Sometimes your pledges become your problems.

Amit Kalantri

The commotion of the bar irks me, my side feeling abnormally cold. Where is she ? My eyes trail to where I last saw her, Dean's girl, who's sleeping with her head on his shoulder, as he stares at her with some love sick look.

Fucker's got it so damn bad.

"Ay, another round ?" T asks, glaring at Raf who's playing around with the cue stick. I shake my head, averting my eyes when one of the smirking bar girls walk over to us.

For fuck's sake, where is she ?

After excusing myself, I walk towards the washrooms, my hands instinctively checking for my gun. I search the staircase leading to the office, where Opal's fast asleep. Benny's is owned by Dean's aunt. It's where I met Dean, he was in some bad shit when I first saw him, associating himself with one of our targets. I pulled him aside and told him to cut it the fuck out and live a better life for his sister, Opal. Ever since, he's family. Like the white brother I never had.

God, where the fuck is she ?

Opal's only four but she's a genius. She goes to school now, and loves it. I know Mayella thinks she's bad with kids, but Opal already loves her. The little smart ass told me that she wants cousins so she wants us to have kids as soon as possible.

You and me both, kid.

Just thinking of Mayella with our kid makes my bitch of a heart beat so fucking fast. She'd be such an amazing mother. God, a family with her is my only wish. All I ever fucking want is anything, but only with her. Even nothing would be everything if it was with her. Fuck, I don't even make sense.

She's afraid. Afraid that she's going to end up like her own sorry excuse of a mom. Mayella's nothing like that sick lady, and she'll never be.

Where the fuck is she ? My brows furrow when I check the washroom again, before making sure there isn't anyone else in. I turn after a quick scan, my arms immediately coming up to hold still the soft body that collides into me.

"Fuc- Mayella ? What the f-"

"Can we please go home ?" I take in her appearance and my eyes harden, my hands fisting automatically. She's fucking crying. Who the fuck made her cry ? Her eyes are red, her cheeks even redder with a mark on it, looking like she tried to rub something away. I cup her face, checking for any sign of physical hurt.

"Mayella, tell me what-"

"Can we please go home, Dalaric ?" Her beautiful eyes nervously look around as she interrupts me again, her voice weak- something I absolutely hate hearing. My fingers twitch, wanting to hit someone so bad. Someone who hurt her. Calm the fuck down, Ricky.

Don't throw years of therapy down the drain.

I nod, pushing her to my side, away from all the stares. T, Jan and Raf nod when I signal that I'm leaving. Ale ushers me forward,

"It's important, boss." He looks nervous, his eyes shifting unusually to the girl in my arms.

"It can wait. I'll call you." Ale hesitantly nods before I exit the bar, resisting the urge to just force her to tell me. I need to know if she's hurt. I need to know who the fuck dared to hurt her.

She's silent as I buckle her up, her eyes almost emotionless and blank. But I can see through that. She's upset. And I don't fuck with that.

Mayella takes my hand, playing with it. Her tears silently fall on my fingers and I clench my jaw, my anger soaring through my entire body so much so that it hurts. It fucking pains me.

"Baby, talk to me." Mayella hiccups, her sniffles physically weakening me. My hand that's not on her lap rubs against my chest, trying to ease the burning sensation.

Calm the fuck down, Ricky.

"Mayella, please. I'm fuckin-"

"Can we go home, please ?" I let out a sigh, regretting it instantly when she clenches her eyes, letting more tears fall. I don't want her to think I'm fed up. I would never be, not with her. I don't know what the fuck to do. I've never comforted people before. No one before her. And seeing her this way, with no fucking clue about how to help, is killing me.

Once we reach, I rush to her side and pick her up. She rubs her face on my chest, her sobs vibrating against my heart. Kipp pecks her face once we enter, trying to cheer her up by giving her his food. I carry her to our room, taking off her shoes before crouching down beside her as I sit her on the edge of the bed.

She picks both my hands up before giving them a kiss. Mayella speaks, her voice soft yet confident enough to make me move.

"I need to show you something." Her eyes don't meet mine as she gets up, pushing me to sit on the edge of our bed. I can only nod warily, hating how I expect the worst.

Mayella puts both her hands up after she stands in between my legs. My brows furrow in confusion but I lift her shirt up anyways, her soft skin softening my eyes. What is she doing ?

Her hands reach up to her bra strap and my eyes widen, what the fuck is she up to ? She moves closer, pulling down the left strap so I can see what lays below, on her perfect skin.

And that's when my heart stops beating.

There's a lump in my constricted throat when I see it. It's a deep scar, a knife wound that looks poorly healed. I've never seen this before. My fingers curl into a fist, her hands cupping them to relax my urge to punch the fucking wall.

"Who." I glare at the wound. I hate it. This doesn't look like the ones her sick mother left. It looks deeper, more painful. I fucking hate it.

Mayella's eyes water again but the tears don't soften me this time. All I feel is pure fucking rage. Rage because I couldn't protect the love of my damn life. I fucking hate myself right now.

She opens her mouth to speak, her face contorted in what seems to be inner-conflict. A few small whispers escape her, "I'm strong. I'm strong." She repeats to herself. My impatience gets the best of me as I repeat my question.

"Mayella. Tell me." My voice comes out hard and strict, the exact opposite of how she makes me feel. It's what the anger makes me feel, though. The fire that's making me feel an urge I've never felt before. Especially when she takes the name of someone I loathe.

"L-Landon."

"Why the fuck is are you saying that name, Mayella ?" She doesn't flinch when she notices my hardened expression, she only holds back another cry.

"H-He, He did- the day I didn't come to the door, h-he-" She breaks down, falling onto the floor and covering her face with her hands. I have to unclench my fist before I kneel in front of her, pulling her close. Mayella collapses against me, tired of crying.

He touched her. He touched my Mayella.

He hurt her. He hurt the woman I love.

My eyes see red when I think of how many tears she had to cry because of him. How many times she called out for help and no one fucking answered. My rational mind loses the fight, to even think of how long I have not known about this.

I feel a great deal of loathe towards myself, for not noticing it before. The club, his disgusting remarks that made me want to shoot him in the head and his interest in her. How the fuck did I not see this before ? It's my fault. But I have more important things to do than blame myself. Only after I make sure she's safe.

Lifting her up, I put her in one of my hoodies as my hands rub her back in an effort to lull her to sleep. It's only when her soft snores fill the room, and her hands leave their tight grip on mine, do I leave the house to fulfill an urge I have never, ever, felt before in my life.

An urge to kill.

-

"Room 471, Mr.Mikael." I find it hard to thank her, my anxiety heightening with each quick step I take. I promised I'd be there.

I promised I'd be there when it was time.

"No, no- I'm telling you, he'll be here. Just wait." I hear her reasoning words as I inch closer to the room, telling myself to calm down and tightening the bandage on my hands to make sure she doesn't see anything that'll make her sad- or mad.

"Ms.Miller, we can't exactly control your chances of dy-"

"Shut the fuck up."I seethe at the dumb fuck of a doctor, who thinks he can say that shit to Emily.

"Ricky! My son. See ? Told you so." Emily coughs, droplets of blood splattering on her hospital dress. She takes a sniff of the roses on her side-table and sighs before ushering me over.

This can't be it. They told us she had another month. This can't be fucking it. It can't.

"Hello, son. How are you ?" Emily asks, as if she's not laying on her death bed. I clench my jaw, my eyes unable to keep any emotions in. She coughs once more into the bin, an expression of sadness painted over her face, which she tries to cover up quickly.

She's dying.

"I-I don't know how long I'll be able to speak for, Ricky. So-"

"Don't fucki-" She sushes me, tightening her hold on my hands, before continuing.

"I need you to do something, Ricky." Her soft voice imprints itself into my head, the noise of the doctors, machines and emergency carts blurring into abyss. I only nod determinedly, not being able to form coherent words at the sight of my mother in her final moments.

This can't be it.

"Take care of him. Take care of Landon, Ricky. Please," A tear leaks from her eye and I take a deep breath in, knowing I will promise this no matter how much it displeases me. He's not even here.

Her coughs intensify, the doctor pushing me out of the way. My back hits the cold wall and my eyes stay on hers, the life in them slowly draining away. She whispers her final words, the nurses huddling around to do the best she can. My mother doesn't panic, she only waits. Just like she's been doing for the past six months. Waiting.

The only person who's ever cared for me is dying, right in front of my eyes. And there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can fucking do about the fact that I will end up completely and utterly alone.

The panicked voices of Carl and her distant cousins fade into nothing when an unfamiliar wetness welcomes itself on my cheeks. Each tear drops in sync with the final beats of her heart, the thin green line on the monitor fighting to stay up high. My eyes still stay on my mother's almost lifeless ones, thankful that I didn't miss the last words she would ever whisper to me.

"You are loved, Ricky."

And then the line goes flat.

This is it.

-

My mind can't differentiate between the past and the present as I look at him, laughing around with his friends and having a beer. Just hours after hurting my girl.

Rage blinds me as I enter my club, my eyes only focused on the one I want to unleash my pent up anger upon. He notices me and I scoff as his eyes go wide. My hand reaches into my waistband, grabbing a hold of the G43 I plan on using.

The crowd dwindles when I shoot. Only the bullet doesn't go through Landon's head. It hits the empty air, scaring everyone enough to run away. He gulps when he's left alone. I smirk. Landon backs up into a wall when I walk forward, my fists clenching and unclenching consistently.

"Hey man, now, we can talk this out-" That's when I land the first punch.

"Take care of him. Take care of Landon, Ricky. Please,"

And then the second.

"Take care of him. Take care of Landon, Ricky. Please,"

And the third.

"Take care of him. Take care of Landon, Ricky. Please,"

The fourth.

"Take care of him. Take care of Landon, Ricky. Please,"

The fifth.

"Take care of him. Take care of Landon, Ricky. Please,"

Just until he's unrecognizable.

His begging falls to deaf ears, the only sound audible enough is the thumping of my heart. It's been a long time since I let my anger out through my fists. My phone rings incessantly. Jan, Raf, Fatima, Ale and her.

I don't pick up, only calling the janitor to clean up the bloody mess. Landon spews incoherent words when I crouch down beside him, looking at him with all the disgust and distaste one could hold for someone so vile.

"Touch her again, and on God, your mother won't be holding me back." His eyes roll back, his body limp. Checking his pulse to make sure the fucker's alive, I exit through the back door. I almost roll my eyes at the scene as Dan sends me a disappointed look with three police cars surrounding him. I shake my head, ignoring his calls as I get into the car. My hands taint the steering wheel and that's when I lose it.

"Fuck. Fuck!" I lean my head against the wheel, my voice strained.

I failed her. I broke the promise.

I broke my mother's dying wish.

Those thoughts repeat in an endless cycle until I enter the house, a soft body grasping onto mine.

"Y-you left. You're okay, right ? Did you hurt yourself ?" Her eyes scan my form, my arms by my side. She flinches when she looks at my bloody hands.

"You...you didn't do anything stupid, right ? Right, Dalaric ?" Mayella's hugs the blanket closer to herself, eyeing me warily as she takes out a tissue before reaching out to my hands.

I step back.

"Is this your idea of love, Mayella ?" She furrows her brows, but my emotions overcome me too much to clear her doubts. I broke the promise.

"When were you planning on telling me ? That he fucking stabbed you? That my own fucking brother, assaulted you ?" I raise my voice, not rational enough to regret it when she flinches. I'm so fucking angry. I broke the promise.

"I-I was afraid. I didn't think-" She stutters, inching closer towards me. My body reluctantly moves backwards. One touch and I won't be angry anymore, I know it.

"You didn't think I would believe you ? For fuck's sake, Mayella, I love you. Don't you fucking understand that ?"

"N-No I do, I-I thought he was gone and-he- and then he came ba-" Mayella tries to explain. My eyes sting, the thought of Emily's disappointment disheartening me. I can't hold myself back when I pull her close as she sobs. Mayella cries into my shirt, holding onto me like I'll disappear. She chants, 'I'm so sorry.' over and over again.

"It's not your damn fault." She's the victim. I take a deep breath once more, trying not to think about the other things he must have done, things she hasn't told me. Things I won't ask her to relive. Mayella nods into my chest, subtly wrapping a towel around my scabbed fists.

My heart burns when I look at her, and the only thing I can see is how disappointed the woman I consider to be my mother must be. I did the exact opposite of what she said to do.

And I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself.

It's not Mayella's fault. It's mine. I never noticed. It's my fault, which is why I can't bear to look at her without hating myself even more.

I scoop her up after she's done wiping my hands clean and disinfecting them. Mayella tries to pull me into the bed with her but I shake my head, finding it the hardest thing to do. It's as if I can hear the crack of my damn heart, when she tries to pull me close.

"Babycakes ? Y-you're not going to sleep ?"She asks, fluffing up our only pillow even though she rests her head on my chest. I take a deep breath, letting it out before sighing.

"I need space." The silence that follows is almost deafening. I accidentally look into those damn eyes and my eyes sting again. Mayella's brows furrow before she looks to her side. She picks up one of the penguins and sets him on the side-table, before muttering an apology to him.

She moves closer to the edge, pulling off the covers so I can lay with her, and ushering me forward. I grit my teeth at how much it pains me when she notices my look.

"Oh." Mayella's face falls. Fuck.

"Space from me." She whispers before she nods to herself, positioning herself to get off the bed. I push her back on it, shaking my head.

"B-but this bed's more comfortable. I can just take the guest-"

"Stop. Just..." I just need to think. I clench my eyes when she fiddles with the sheets, hiding her eyes from me.

"I love you." But I disappointed Emily. Mayella whispers it back, with a hopeful gaze that vanishes as I walk towards the bedroom door. I bite my fist, my thoughts racing at a hundred miles. I need time. I can't- I can't even look at her without thinking of Emily on her death bed, holding my hand and begging me to take her of her actual son.

I just need space.

My hands continue to rub at my chest when I enter one of the spare rooms, throwing the gun on the bed. My phone rings again.

"Speak." I mutter, my voice under emotional strain. Ale nervously replies.

"Boss, I saw Landon at Benny's. And he was with yo girl, you should check it-"

"Shut the fuck up. She's not like that." I hang up, already making a mental note to apologize to him for my rude ass behavior. Mayella would never.

The phone rings again and I sigh with exhaustion.

"Dan." I acknowledge, my head hitting the uncomfortable pillow. The bedsheets are cold and unfamiliar, missing one person.

"Ricky, what the fuck. Your brother's in the damn hospital ! Are you out of your goddamn mind ? Do you how much shit I had to explain ? They say he needs fucking surgery! Do-"

"I'd do it again." Dan sighs at my honest response, scoffing.

"Right, of course. Maybe you'll care about your suspension. Oh ! And your hearing with the government officials that are getting here soon. Good luck ending that contract, Ricky. You're either stuck killing. Or you're in jail. I'll call you tomorrow. Get yourself cleaned up." Dan murmurs with disappointment. I hang up with no reply, my hands rubbing down my face.

Would I do it again? Even after knowing I'd face this self-conflict ? My brain tries to rationalize my decision, telling me that I should've handed it over to officials, or better yet, 'talked' it out.

But my heart, my bitch-ass of a heart, says fuck yes. I'd do it a hundred times over for her. For the pain she had to go through.

Even if it means being stuck in a job I hate.

Even if it means not being able to look her in the face, without being reminded of the promise I broke.

I'm sorry, Emily. But I'd do it again.

Even if I can't forgive myself.

_________

3359

Howdy,

Hope everyone had an amazing day today. Just like you deserve.

Love always,

-.