Epilogue One #4
Eliminating as many threats on this planet as I could seemed like a pretty good way to keep her safe.
Plus, I was not built to be a stay-at-home mom.
I had spent enough of my life locked away inside a house.
I needed to do more, not just for her, but for myself and all the other victims just waiting to be freed from their suffering. It was my new given purpose.
My mom sighed with obvious relief. “Well, that’s good.
I always worry when you go on those crazy missions, but I understand why,” she said, sympathy lingering in her voice.
She understood the need and eventually grew to accept what her daughter had become.
“Oh, and I already spoke with your brothers, by the way. They’ll be here for dinner as planned. ”
I smiled at the reminder. My younger brothers had co-founded a nonprofit human trafficking charity that specialized in technological advancements to help track down rings and infiltrate their infrastructures using the internet.
Their work was incredible and had given us a huge advantage in the field.
My dad would have been just as proud as I was.
“Perfect. Jordan confirmed with me yesterday that her train gets in at around 6 p.m., so I’ll pick her up at the station around that time,” I added.
“Oh, great. I can’t wait to see her!” my mom replied. “It’s been too long.”
I furrowed my brows at her. “Mom, she was just here last month.”
“Exactly. Too long. Paris isn’t that far from Stuttgart.”
I rolled my eyes, but ignored my mom. My best friend had made quite a life for herself in Paris after Jason warned her to flee the US.
She’d gone to stay with her aunt in France and apparently had traveled all over the place as quiet little tourists, making sure not to stay in one place for too long.
Because Jordan was now so well-travelled, she became an international policy analyst for the French government, specifically in humanitarian aid for war-torn communities.
She’d been at the Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs for the last four years now, and she was thriving there.
It was also helpful to her to have my insight on certain areas and cultures where my version of diplomacy often made significant impacts to those communities.
Combined with the French humanitarian aid, Jordan helped create foreign policies that would prevent human trafficking from resurfacing in those affected areas.
Her work was actually pretty impressive.
But she and I were both in need of a vacation, so she would be staying with us for the next week while her French ambassador husband stayed home with their two young daughters.
The soft clicking of Camaro’s claws on the wood floor caught mine and Marie’s attention as she trotted into the room to bump her nose against my thigh.
“Maro!” Marie called down to her in excitement. She still couldn’t quite say Camaro very well just yet.
Moving farther into the room, I carried my daughter to the couch, and the three of us slumped down in front of the TV while Camaro sat by our feet, panting up at us.
And just like that, I was home.
I had my family. I had my freedom. And I had my life back, though it had been altered forever.
Almost ten years had passed since I woke up in that dog cage, and the memory still haunted me to this day. Darren had been right in a sense that I would never be able to escape him, even in his death.
For the longest time, I saw him everywhere—hiding in the shadows, peering through the eyes of other men, or taunting me in my dreams. But with each rising memory, I reminded myself of the most simple truth—I had killed him.
And I relived that moment every time he sought to creep back into my head, just to remind his stupid memory of what I was capable of.
I watched myself replant those bullets through his eyes and spit fire to his corpse every time.
It was cathartic in a way, but still so damn exhausting to constantly repeat.
I’d never been so grateful for the amnesia I still occasionally experienced, my mind giving me the reprieve I needed to live my life in some form of peace.
But all in all, I was still the victor, and I wore that crown with pride every fucking day, no matter how hard it got.
I’d often think back to all the times I had bolstered myself to take on another day. Even though my soul was slowly being chipped away piece by piece, it was gradually being replaced with a hardened grit I had yet to recognize.
I was no longer the girl who had woken up in that cage, who had been raped, sold, abused, and tormented. No, I was something else entirely. A monster born from the fires of unimaginable suffering, who used her jagged claws to rip apart all the other monsters who would dare challenge her title.
I had earned my reputation in the underground, stoking fear into the hearts of the wretched. And I reveled in it all. I had built my armor out of the scar tissue of my past and used it to reinforce my fortitude every time I stepped back into the field.
In a way, I supposed I should be grateful for all I had learned from Darren.
If he hadn’t taken me, I wouldn’t have the knowledge that I have now, and I wouldn’t have the skills to rescue more victims and eliminate more traffickers around the globe.
And Darren would certainly still be out there reigning terror on the world unchecked.
But I had to give him credit where credit was due.
He made me who I was today, just like his father had made him.
Only I was better. Stronger. Smarter. And after everything Darren had put me through, I was the one with the power he could only dream of wielding.
After all, they say what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger…or some stupid shit like that.