Old Pains

Cold rain beat on the window panes. Lightning flashed across the sky and the sound of thunder breaks through the oppressive silence in the sterile hallway.

A storm was coming.

Yet, it did nothing to calm the turmoil inside me. The tears had ong dried. I am in a state of trance, a soul estranged from the body, watching the horror unfold from somewhere beyond.

I could not pray. I had already said a thousand prayers until my lips had chapped. Georgiana and her wife stood on opposite sides of me, clutching my hands in silent, painful comfort. It was useless yet I wasn't strong enough to push their hands away.

The red light on the word O. T. glowed. My heart thundered as I thought of my little boy fighting for his life on the operation table.

Ethan had personally taken the responsibility to be an attending surgeon at the scene. I was beyond relieved to have him there, knowing he loved him as much as I did, knowing he would not let him go without a fight. The thought of Josh's smile frozen in death was enough to make me want to throw myself off the nearest balcony.

Time crawled by but there was no end to the despair of a mother who had no where to go. Yet, in that moment, all I could remember was failure, failure to be with him, failure to be the mother he deserved, failure to be his biggest champion and it was galling to realise that failure was the only thing I had achieved as his mother. So much failure, nothing but failure. Even God must have turned his eyes away from me in that moment in pity.

As I sniffled silently, it struck me with the weight of a train how much I had lost in the span of one evening. My company had been snatched away from me by none other than the sister of my heart and my son had been in an accident while coming back from school. Tom, our driver for the past ten years had been declared dead at scene of the accident. So much loss. I was choking with it. Yet, none of that mattered when I saw my son being rushed into the ICU covered in bandages and red splotches, his tiny glasses broken, his body mangled in scars. I had never seen a more horrific vision in my life.

The hardest thing in life was for a mother to watch her children suffer knowing that her hands were tied, knowing she was powerless to save them.

As I watched the white sterile wall with empty eyes, I pondered on how life could change in the blink of an eye, how one moment I had had everything and another I had nothing.

I hadn't been this powerless since I had been in the favelas, dreading to go back home without any money because of the beating I was supposed to get. I clutched Georgiana's hands tighter.

"Trust in God, amica. Everything will be fine.", she whispered stroking my hair.

I didn't speak. God was silent tonight. Only the thunder was loud outside.

" Did you know?", I whispered, my head resting against the wall and my legs numb.

"Did you know about Jules?", I asked.

She sighed heavily.

" I didn't. I swear I didn't know. I am on your side, boss. I always was. I always am and I always will be."

I laughed hollowly.

"Don't worry, Georgiana. Even if you aren't I don't care....I don't give a shit."

"Do you remember how we met?", she gently placing a tartarn blanket over her wife as she had fallen asleep on my other shoulder.

" I do. We met as all best friends do, in a strip club. Except you were the one stripping and I was the one paying for it."

"In my defense, I knew what you would be.", I told her.

" And what would I be?", she asked.

"Powerful. You were meant to rule."

___________

10 years ago

I had been watching her for the past week. The girl with fire in her eyes. The seedy club, the enclosing darkness, her bleak future prospects, her abusive pimps- nothing had dimmed the fire in her eyes.

It was the same flame I had been burning in. But, today I was here to celebrate. To celebrate the destruction of a man who I had loved devotedly for the past five years. Whose love had given me souvenirs in the form of bruises. Whose love had nearly killed me.

But that was a tale for another day. Tonight I would celebrate by drowning myself in a bottle of cheap whiskey.

And, then I saw that girl again. Georgiana Rodriguez she was called. I had asked around the club girls. But, she was different.

She was like me.

When I had seen her for the first time in the dim, sparkly lights of the club, hanging off the pole in skimpy black lingerie and spiked heels with the most defiant look in her eyes, I had known. I had known in the depths of my heart, that this was a woman who was meant to be on top. Call it intuition or survival instinct that I had perfected, I could read her like an open book, the way her eyes gleamed with hatred at the leery revelers on the floor stuffing dollar bills into her bra, touching her, making lewd comments. I had seen hatred, known what it was meant to be debased down to the bone and this girl was angry. Unlike the other girls with hollow eyes and empty, plastic smiles.

Anger was good. Anger was better than resignation. Anger meant she was willing to fight.

One look at her and I could see that she was like me, an immigrant brought to this country in lure of a better life and then promptly been shown to strip club to be displayed like an exotic creature.

So, I did the only thing I could. I propositioned her to the back of the club and the words she said to me convinced me that I was right,

"Fuck....off", she said in a heavy throaty voice.

I thrust a wad of cash into her hand because I had been half-drunk that night and she was too beautiful. I wanted her. To help me build my empire.

"I am not for sale.", she said anger and humiliation bright in her eyes. There was a haughty tilt to her chin in spite of her body being on display.

"Everyone has a sell price.", I whispered drunkenly. "I am a businesswoman, querida. If I can't buy you then I am not offering the right price."

"I m not for sale.", was the only thing she repeated in her strange thick Portuguese-accented English.

"I will pay you a hundred grand for a night. ", I offered her. She was a stunning woman with mocha skin and black feline eyes that oozed wrath. She could have tempted a saint.

I was no saint.

She refused still.

Damnit!

I didn't want her body,I wanted her fire. I wanted her grit. She would make a good addition to our menage-a-trois.

"I know what you want.", I declared.

She understood but did not speak. Her eyes would have shot me dead, had I been another weak-willed girl.

I pulled my jacket off and placed it on her shoulders and closed all the buttons. The world swayed around me but I stood my ground with grim determination.

"All your life, men have stripped your clothes off you, have touched you without your permission, have taken and taken and taken what you weren't willing to give. I am giving it back to you. Your dignity. That is your price isn't it? What if I told you, that no one will touch you without your permission after tonight, nobody will disrespect you, nobody will dress you, cheaply, make you bend to their wishes, will you not come with me?"

Her eyes flared, pride warring with common sense. I had offered her everything but she had seen life enough to know that nothing came without conditions.

"What is the price I have to pay?", she asked, her eyes shining in the dark or perhaps I was having hallucinations. Was she crying? But, I ignored it. I was here to close a deal.

"Everything and more. I demand everything from you. Your loyalty, your devotion, your service and your respect. I will demand your waking hours. I will be merciless. I have an empire to build. But, I won't take anything without consent. That much I can tell you. Will you come with me?"

"What is your name?", she asked.

"Sana Bianchi. You should remember it. Nobody knows it yet but soon the world will know."

She kept silent.

If she said no, she would never see me again. I was offering her everything she could ever dream of and I was taking everything she had to offer. It was a fairly balanced deal.

She deliberated for some moments, her black eyes probing uncomfortably into my head.

"It is not often that mysterious women come and offer to get me out of this life right after propositioning me for sex.", she said arching an eyebrow.

Weirder things had happened with me.

" You may be making  a deal with the devil. Who knows? But this is the only chance you have. Perhaps, I am worse than those men back there. At least with them, you know what to expect. With me,anything is possible.", I told her honestly.

"I am not sure this is real.", she breathed, naked hope shining in her eyes. Hope and despair that it was all an illusion. I got it. I really did. If someone had come to the favelas with an offer to take me out of there and give me a better life, I would have been suspicious about it. Girls like me, like her weren't granted miracles. But luckily for her, fate had smiled down on her.

So, I pinched her hand and she pulled it away.

"See! It's all real."

She gave me a tiny smile. A tiny, tiny, microscopic tilt of her lips. But, I could hear her resolve crumbling. I sensed victory on the horizon.

"You will make me powerful, yes?", she asked.

"And rich beyond your dreams. I want to find girls like you and empower them. I want to make them proud. I have a vision for all of us."

"I am too jaded to believe in miracles."

"I am not offering you a miracle. I don't believe in them. I believe in deals, binding contracts with fair terms.", I countered.

There were no miracles in business. I hadn't been granted any. Her eyes fell on my blackened shoulder, where my jacket had been. Her eyes blazed.

"Who did that to you?", she asked, her fingers trailing with feather light softness on the skin.

"A man.", I whispered smiling hollowly.

" What did you do to him?", she asked.

"I destroyed him."

"Is that why you're here today? To celebrate?"

"To celebrate. To forget. To drown. ", I agreed.

"I never forget.", she whispered.

" I never forget either. I won't. People who forget make the same mistakes.",I agreed.

"Ask me again if I will come with you?", she said coming close to me till our noses are touching.

"Will you come with me?"

"I will follow you everywhere you go. You gave me this jacket. This is more than anything a thousand men have given me in a lifetime. I will die in this jacket. It will be my burial shroud."

I smiled and kissed her forehead.

She lowered her head.

I chucked her chin upwards.

"Heads up, soldier. We're going to war."

And she had followed me out of hell to the ends of the world.

____________

Present day

"Did you help Jules betray me?", I asked.

"You saved me.", Georgiana whispered. " I don't forget it."

"I have nothing now. Will you follow me?"

"Wherever you go, I will follow. I will be your knight, I will protect you.", she whispered.

I took in the force of that promise. The somber look on her face. She would go to hell with me, if that's what it took.

It comforted me for a moment, a blink of a moment before reality came crashing in.

The doctor walked out of the O. T.

"What happened?! Is my son okay?", I asked in panic at the blank look on his face.

"The surgery was a success."

I nearly sagged in relief but Jules held me up.

"But, I'm afraid your son may not be able to walk again."

__________

Hey, people, it's Della here. For those who read my story Boss Lady, this is the second installment. Hopefully, I can do justice to Sana in this book.

This will cover some hard topics. So be prepared.