A/N; Hey guys! Hope you are all still with it. Not many comments on the previous chapters. Wondering if I'm doing something wrong. Lol. Let me know what you guys are thinking of the story. Message me if anyone has any ideas or request for this stories or anything else. I'm opened to anything. Leave a review, let me know what you all think! Hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!
One year later…
One year had passed since Punk was taken away without any notice what so ever. Everyone close to him, from his girlfriend to his next door neighbours, were told that he had died with fatal injuries. It was pretty horrific, but he was just as good as dead if he continued to stay in Chicago like he wanted to.
He'd been living in Spain for the past year, trying his best to get by the best he could. It was tough as tough could be. Knowing his family were out there, believing he was dead and gone forever was heartbreaking. Being without them for the year was the toughest thing he could have possibly gone through.
He'd been using a fake name and shortened his hair, not having it in its normal slicked ways. He was updated with weekly pictures of AJ and the twins, who had grown so much. The pictures he received of them were normally of them smiling, chuckling to themselves or annoying one another. It was wonderful to see, but the snaps of AJ, they were heartbreaking. She looked like a walking skeleton. Her used to be tanned, caramel skin was white, almost green. Every picture he seen of her, she looked like she was on another planet. He just wanted her to know he was ok, and that he'd see her soon. Which he would.
He'd tried his best to get on with his life under the protection of Sam and his crew, but it was just too hard. Not a day went by where he didn't think of his children, or his girlfriend, who should have been his wife round about now if everything went to plan that night he was taken.
"Paul is coming over to visit tomorrow." Sam said whilst inviting himself into the house Punk was living at. He'd gotten used to Sam or the other guys just walking in and letting him know the latest information.
Sam had hoped that Punk would have settled a little better. The house they had given him to live in was still untouched. All Punk really done was sleep in it and cook, if he was hungry that was. He'd been spending a lot of his time going out walking or running, clearing his head from everything. Sam knew he felt like he was prisoner, but they were doing their best to keep him happy. But he knew that was impossible when they had ripped him from his family.
Paul had visited Punk a few times throughout the year. The first time, he received a hard punch to the face, which Paul took pretty well. Punk just needed someone to blame, and take his anger out on, and Paul was the closest.
"With good or bad news?" Punk asked, sitting at the kitchen table as Sam joined him.
"It's just a visit." Sam said, "Nothing exciting." He explained as Punk nodded.
He'd felt himself get lifeless over the past year. It was still hard to actually believe a full year had passed. He would have missed so much at home, especially regarding the twins. They'd just turned one a few weeks ago. Pictures could never do them justice. He wanted to hold them, and speak to them, and just protect them, like he set out to do. Like he promised them and AJ he would. He'd never had such a tough year in his life like this year. It had been truly tragic. If he wasn't being given useless information by Sam, he was alone, left with his own thoughts.
"That all you came to tell me?" Punk asked.
No one had told him anything. He was a cop, and he was being told nothing about what was going on. He had no clue if the Albanians had given up on finding him, or if they were still searching to hurt him. Sam always said he wished he could tell him things, but as part of his job, they couldn't. Punk had given up at this point though. He couldn't even care about what was going on with anything else. All he really cared about was AJ and the twins.
"They're finally down." Sean entered the kitchen after putting a lively Harleen and Caleb to sleep in their cots in their rooms. It was always a fight at bedtime to put them down, but they'd eventually go if he stayed long enough.
"Thank you." AJ nodded solemnly whilst running a kitchen towel along the counter, drying it off after cleaning up, taking the opportunity to do the dishes and tidy the kitchen whilst the twins were being dealt with by their helpful uncle.
"I'm gonna shoot off. Kerry is doing night shift so I need to get home to watch TJ." He explained as AJ nodded.
"Ok. I'll see you later." She forced a smile as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her the same sympathetic smile he'd been given her the past year, leaving the kitchen and the house all together as AJ continued to tidy up the kitchen.
Sometimes it was the loneliness that hurt the most. Just pausing a listening to the silent house. She really couldn't believe it had been a year since Punk had passed. Sometimes it dragged in, other times she'd blink and it was already the next week.
When she was told that Punk had been killed, she immediately wanted to know how, but then she paused and figured what difference it would make. She was still alone and cold. He was still gone and she was still a single mother at the end of the day.
Paul had helped her out a lot. He identified the body and helped her with the funeral. Sean and Kerry had also been great. Sean came round almost every night, just to help out with the twins, just to take a little pressure from AJ. He'd sometimes take them for their baths, or he'd help out at dinner time. He'd been wonderful, and she knew he was hurting just as much as she was. She'd lost her boyfriend, but he'd lost his brother. He had no family left, besides his own and the twins.
At first it felt unreal. She thought she was going to wake up out of the nightmare she believed to be having, but life kept going on, and it began to sink in that he was really gone. She got to say no proper goodbye. She didn't get to feel her lips against his one last time. He was just savagely taken from her.
If it hadn't been for the twins, she would have fallen apart. Definitely. Each time she felt like giving up, they were the reason not to. Punk might have been gone, but a part of him still lived on in the twins.
It was hard work raising the twins. Sometimes it was unbearable actually. After the funeral service and the realisation that she had to get on with her life, it sunk in that she was raising the babies all by herself. Some nights she'd sit up, banging her head against the wall in her bedroom whilst both twins lay in her arms screaming. It was hard, but she had learned throughout the year how to cope with everything, and how to handle the twins by herself. She didn't really have a choice actually.
It still didn't seem real that Punk was really gone. She didn't think it ever would. She could still remember standing at the grave, watching the coffin get lowered into the ground whilst she sobbed into her mothers shoulder. It was unbearable. It still was.
She went back to work a few months after the death of Punk, but she just couldn't do it. It was too hard. Her job desired her bright personality and her smile, and she'd lost them. All of Punks money had been inherited into her bank account. Everything he owned, she now did. So it wasn't like she and the twins were in trouble. She kept on top of her bills and the mortgage. She didn't need any more stress put on top of her.
She headed upstairs, walking into the twins room with two piles of washed, dried and ironed clothes, smiling over at them both sleeping in their cots. They'd grown so much. Just turned one a few weeks ago. She knew Punk would have been so proud of them. They'd been picking up on words now, and were both pulling themselves up from the ground, of course falling back down in a fit of laughter though. Walking would eventually come. It was just so sad she had to share those type of moments with the fresh air.
She put the washing away in the drawers in the twins room. Once finished, she looked over them, smiling as their little chests raised and fell in rhythm. They were both perfect. Caleb had come such a long way. She could still remember him lying in the little incubator with breathing tubes keeping him alive. He looked just like Punk. The same messy, whispy hair, the same smirk and evil grin that she missed so much. Harleen was just as perfect. She was beautiful. Her smile, Punk would have melted over if he could see it. She knew she did. She also looked like Punk, only much more innocent.
She had good days and bad days. Some days, she just wished for Punk. She wished for him to be here. To be looking after the twins with her, just like they had planned. And other days she was ok, surrounded by those who still cared for her like Sean, her mother and friends. Those days, she tried to be positive, and remembered she still had her babies, who were always going to have a part of Punk inside them. She seen him when she looked at them both. Sometimes it was a good thing, other times it was a bad thing.
"Sweet dreams." She whispered, cupping Harleen's cheek, pressing gentle kisses on her head and her brothers, leaving the room and shutting the door over.
It had been tough. In fact, it had been torturous. But she was getting by. She had to. For her babies.
The next day, Paul had indeed took a trip to visit Punk in Spain. It was hard for him just like any other person involved. He hated the fact that Punk was restricted from his family, and he really hated that he had to tell AJ that Punk had actually died. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. Coming from a cop, that was a big thing.
He knew Punk was frustrated out here in the sun. Any normal guy with nothing to lose or miss would have loved it. The sun, the girls, the free accommodation, but he knew Punk, and he knew how much his family meant to him. But it was all to keep him safe. If he was to stay in Chicago, he'd be dead. And not the fake kind.
"You seen April lately?" Punk asked, sitting outside at a café on a main strip of local shops, bars and cafés.
"I stopped by on the twins birthday to give them presents." Paul said, "She's doing alright." Paul nodded.
"Yeah? Cause from the pictures I get every week, she looks like she hasn't slept since I apparently died." He said, "I'll never forgive myself for going through with this." He shook his head.
"You had no choice, Phil. It was either that, or you died, for real this time." He said, "I didn't want to do this, Sam certainly didn't, but I know you. You're a stubborn asshole when it comes to being a cop. You would have wanted to take on these guys, and I know you wouldn't have stood a chance. I needed you away, and having April with you wasn't in the equation because everything had to be realistic." He said as Punk just rolled his eyes, "I wasn't going to let you die."
"Probably would have been less painful." Punk grunted.
"You'll see April and the twins again. Sooner now, rather than later." He said.
"And what? You think my life will just fall back into place again? Are you stupid? I've missed a year of my kids lives. I know nothing about them. I've left April to deal with everything. She… she's gonna hate me when I walk back into her life. She won't forgive me." He predicted. When he did see April again, and the shock of it all died down, he knew that she wouldn't forgive him for all of this. Why would she? She'd been made to believe he was dead all this time.
"She'll forgive you." Paul said, "In fact, the girl is so lost, she'll probably take you back without even asking what happened." He said.
"Do you know when I can go home? I'm actually getting sick of this. Physically. I'm tired. I miss my own bed. I miss my family. You… you gotta let me go home, Paul. I can't do this anymore." Punk shook his head in desperation. Wasn't a year enough? Even at that, he'd barely survived it. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't live off of pictures and thoughts.
"A few weeks." Paul said, "We're gonna do a double check. Make sure it's safe." He explained as Punk nodded, turning away to quickly wipe the welled up tears that had formed in his eyes. He couldn't help it. He felt like he was a prisoner out here, "You ok?" He hated to ask.
"Do I fucking look ok?" Punk turned back around with now red, puffy eyes, "Just get me out of here, Paul." He shook his head, standing up, the chair legs screeching on the ground. He walked away, down the street that he had ran and walked down countless times whilst thinking of those who he loved and missed. He just wanted to go home. He couldn't let AJ suffer in pain any longer. He'd had enough of this bullshit.
10 REVIEWS = New Chapter.