A Kingpin Love Affair: The Complete series(53)

Jared pulled away from me, placing his cell phone in my hand. I cast my eyes down toward it as it weighed heavily in my hand. Could I do it? Endure the pain, open the wounds of the past, and push forward?

“You’re only as big as your biggest fear,” Jared whispered as a reminder to me. I headed toward the patio door, giving him a short smile as I shut the door behind me. I slumped down into one of the chairs and punched in the digits to dial out of the country and block Jared’s number. Once I had entered those correctly, I dialed the number I knew by heart. I wasn’t sure if they would answer or not, but I hoped they would.

I pressed the send key and waited for the ringing to sound on the other end. There was a long pause of just air filtering through the line, which caused my heart to pound harder. Then the ringing sounded and I started to calm a bit. The phone was slippery in my hands as I pressed it to my ear, the ringing continuing.

“здравствуйте.” A meek voice answered on the other end. I was so choked up, so unsure of what to say that at first I said nothing.

“здравствуйте?” Someone snatched the phone from someone else, the voice on the other end sounding much older, much more known and held an authoritative tone.

“Momma!” I cried out, unable to stop the emotions from coming forward.

“Izabella?” Her Russian was thick just like I remembered. She seemed stunned, even displeased.

“Yes, Momma! It’s me.” I spoke to her in English as tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t even know—had no idea why I was crying. It’s not as if they cared about me when I was there. Maybe it was the idea that I needed a small piece of home with me.

“How...” she questioned, her voice growing very quiet as she too spoke in English, “you’re not supposed to call, child. Your duties have been done.” Her admission caused my heart to split in two.

“Is that…” I stumbled over my words, taking a deep breath. I didn’t want her to know just how much her words hurt me. “Is it true? I mean—was this all you ever had planned for me? I’m calling after all this time to let you know I’m okay, and you tell me my duties have been done?” I was hurting, my heart wide open just like the day she let them take me.

Her breaths filled my ear. “Isabella, your sacrifice for your family was all we ever needed.” Her words were final. It was as if she didn’t even care. How had I thought for some reason she would? That she would say she was sorry, that she loved me and didn’t mean for it to happen? All those things had been false hopes. She wasn’t overjoyed to hear my voice, to know that I was still alive.

“How…” What did I want to say? Wasn’t this about closure and allowing those wounds to scab over?

“How is Marcy?” I asked. I could hear her sighing over the phone as the line grew quiet for a brief moment before her reply came through.

“She is so quiet. Don’t talk to any of us much and when she does, it is a simple yes or no. She is just as much a burden as you were.” Her confession caused my blood to boil and I found myself snapping.

“Let me talk to her!” My voice was strong, not one trace of weakness in it. Marcy was the youngest of my siblings, yet at the age of six, she had more morals than most. We always had a special bond, since the moment I held her in my arms. I felt as if we were one in the same.

My mother sighed heavily into the phone once again, before yelling for her.

“здравствуйте.” The quietest voice I had ever heard met my ears.

“Marsi?!!” I questioned in Russian, almost screaming her name as I allowed the happiness of hearing her voice hit me.

“Да?”

“I have missed you so much,” I cried out, switching between languages. In my old house, this was nothing new as our father spoke to us in English. Even though he could speak Russian fluently, he only spoke to our mother in her native language.

“Isabella?” she screeched, asking in English as well. Had it been that long? Had time passed that much that she had forgotten what I sounded like?

“Yes, Marcy. It’s me. It’s Sissy!” I could hear her voice filling with emotion as she huffed a sob into the phone.

“I…I missed you…” I could all but see the tears falling from her eyes. “Momma doesn’t do my hair like you did or take me for walks. She doesn’t care, Isabella.” Anger racked my bones. How had a six-year-old been able to gather all of this?

“I know, sweetie. I know… and I wish…” What did I wish? “I wish you were here with me. I miss you so much. You know that, right?” I prayed she knew it.

“I do... “ Seconds passed before she spoke again. “I want to go wherever you are. I want to be with you, Izzy. I hate it here.” More emotions swarmed her as she sobbed uncontrollably into the phone.

Through Marcy’s heavy breathing, I could hear my mother screaming, her Russian sharp, which told me she was pissed off about something, which wasn’t really all that much of a surprise.

“Momma is mad, I have to go…” She cried harder into the phone.

“подождите, Маrsi… I won’t leave you there. I will do whatever I can to bring you where I am. Okay? Don’t give up. Just stay strong. Let me talk back to Momma. I love you.” Her sobs seemed to stop as she realized what I had said.