Chapter 6
Nick bolted upright in bed, clutching his stomach. He looked down, expecting to see a knife plunging in to his stomach. Instead, he saw the scars that marred his once perfect torso. His fear had come from a nightmare retelling the event that lead to the scars.
Nick punched his mattress thinking about the scars. He had gone to South America, following leads about where Jill might be. It had taken him years to get there, to get close to where he thought she was. But, as time had showed, it was all a lie.
While searching for more information he had offended the wrong person and found himself in jail. There was no lawyer, no trial, no phone call. There was only hell and darkness for almost four years. He barely spoke the language, not to mention he was white, from the U.S. and a law enforcement agent.
A little over three years in to his stay, he was attacked with a knife and stabbed multiple times, resulting in the scars. He had been beat up, tortured and many other things that he didn't want to remember over the years, but nothing as serious as what happened that day. He nearly lost his life, did lose a kidney, and spent months in the infirmary. Afterwards, they threw him out and into the street with only the clothes on his back. But he didn't care; at least they didn't send him back to that hell hole.
Then it had taken years to get back to the States. He shuddered at the thought of some of the things he had to do to earn money. It was almost worse than prison. When he did get back, he spent six months just wondering around the country. He was ashamed to face his parents, Alex, everyone. He spent the next six months cleaning himself up, trying to be respectable again. Then he went to see Alex.
He had done everything for Jill—for Alex and Oliver. And what did he get in return? His daughter's dead. His son, whom he's happy he gets to see, calls another man dad. His wife—ex-wife—Alex, she's married to Greg. Of all people, Greg! Nick couldn't stand the injustice of it all. And Alex wanted to talk about what's fair?
The thought wasn't new to Nick. He'd had it every day for the last month—ever since Alex and Greg decided to allow him to see Oliver. He had to watch his wife, the mother of his children, with his ex-friend. It was like a prison, always seeing the way things could have been, knowing he'd never be able to get them back. Especially not with St. Greg in the picture.
Then Nick had a thought, what if Greg wasn't in the picture? If Greg, somehow, died and then he was there for Alex, would she take him back? The resounding answer from his head was yes. But, the way his life had gone, he wouldn't be lucky enough for Greg to die. Of course he could always kill Greg…
Nick shook his head. He was not a murderer. He had always fought by the rules, for good and for right. But where did that get him? Beat, lonely, broken, poor. Fuck the rules, he thought. He wanted his wife and his son back—and he was going to get them. No matter what, he was going to get them back.