Finding Forgiveness

A few moments later, she appeared to jump off the wooden seat and was launched across the plain of green.

I called out to her but my voice had little effect.

Her tiny body soon disappeared into the distance leaving me alone and lonely by the swing and nothing else.

I gazed out to where my daughter had disappeared to, unable to move my feet. She was gone and I had pushed her.

Something then began to emerge out of the whisps of low lying cloud. It was big and it was holding something in its arms. Like a man and a small child.

A weight lifted from my heart when they got close enough to be recognised.

My mate and in his arms, Lili- perfectly happy and unharmed.

I watched as he got closer to me and handed our daughter over to me.

“He’ll always catch us, Mommy,” she said. “No matter what.”

I smiled at Leo and reached out to him but he didn’t seem to be really there. Just a construction of the mind. Soon enough, Lili was too. And the swing and the plain of green and the mist.

My eyes soon began to focus on something else. A warehouse-like room filled with boxes with a thick musky smell and so much dust it itched my eyes.? The effects of whatever drug I had been given to get me here from the diner, a journey of which all was a blur, were beginning to wear off but I was still unable to kick against the ropes holding me to a small wooden chair.

“I thought you’d never wake up,” a voice said from only a few metres in front of me.

“I was having a nice dream,” I grumbled as my eyes set on him: a young looking man in a smart black suit and tie.

He stood tall and broad with dark hair and even darker eyes that held a disconcerting stare.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“And who are you?”

He stifled a laugh.

“I am the boss. I hear you’ve been meddling with some of my guys?” he asked in perfect English yet still with a fairly strong accent.

“You’re younger than I thought,” I said drowsily.

“And so are you. How old are you, Blanca?” He asked.

Blanca? As in white?

“Older than you,” I replied. “Can you loosen these ropes? They hurt.”

He nodded to his men and they hesitated for a moment.

“Ella no es una amenaza para nosotros. Haz lo que digo,” he replied in a deep voice, almost a growl.

The men instantly rushed forwards and hastily loosened the ropes.

“My men are worried that you are a threat to us,” he replied after noticing my confused expression. I hardly spoke a word of spanish and Italian was not similar enough to understand.

“However, I don’t believe that is so,” he added.

I gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Now are you going to tell me how old you are or what?”

“Guess,” I said.

“My mother taught me better than to guess a woman’s age.”

“Did she teach you to tie one up in a dirty warehouse too?” I asked.

He narrowed his eyes and stood up stepping closer to me.

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it, Blanca,” he said running his finger down my cheek before bringing his lips to my ear. “Twenty.”

“You lose,” I replied with my most flagellant smile.

“Can you give me a clue?” he asked tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Hmmm,” I hummed. “It’s a factor of 408.”

“Math, huh?” he said.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” he said stepping away from me. “Twenty four.”

I smiled.

“You’re smarter than you look, amigo,” I commented.

“Watch it,” he warned.

“Yes. Now let me guess yours,” I said as he stood with an amused smile and his arms folded across his chest.

“Nineteen.”

I saw his men, that were stood either side of him, exchange worried glances.

“How did you know?” he asked his expression changing.

“Lucky guess,” I said innocently.

“How?” he repeated in a deeper tone.

“Smooth, deep freshly broken voice of a teenager, light stubble that couldn’t be described as a beard and perfectly straight teeth fresh out of braces,” I replied as an angered expression swept over his face.

“I am not a boy,” he stated deeply.

“However you have clearly been in your post-puberty body long enough to build a high amount of muscle, you know how to dress like a man and your phenomenal mathematical and English skills are that of someone who has inhabited this earth for longer than someone only just nearing their twenties.”

“Nicely recovered, Blanca,” he replied with an amused smirk. “Now I have a few more questions for you before we get to the real reason you are here. The mark on your neck, who does it belong to?”

“My mate,” I stated.

“An Alpha?” he asked.

“No. We are rogues.”