Pain and Choice

Fractured Trust

Hamilton had never been so befuddled by thought before. He has no idea how to interpret the facts his men have given him. He's just sitting there, completely silent. The room is pitch black, left at the mercy of the light coming from the table lamp. The darkness of the night, or the lack of light in the room, is exacerbated by a sense of betrayal.

If he has to listen to the recording, he may discover something he does not like, just as it means he believes what his men told him, which is against what he doesn't want to accept as truth. But he is leaning into the sensation that some part of him is asking him to; listening to it might help. He is doing everything he can to place himself in a position that he prefers to believe is acceptable. His chair is closer to his desk than normal because his right forearm is totally supported by it. Attempting to calm himself down by breathing in and out; eyes closed, pronounced jaw line, heavy chest moving up and down, under his black shirt with three top buttons parted, and his hand leaned on the desk with an old tape recorder in his palm.

He gently opens his eyes as he makes a decision, but he slightly bites his lips as he sits, appropriately positioning himself to the desk, fully turning his chair towards the desk as he prepares himself to start playing the tape recorder even if he doesn't want to.

Zeno's voice is stern and evident; he is embarrassed. "I can hardly believe I'm about to do this." Listening to him chuckle makes Hamilton laugh quietly, causing his shoulders to flex slightly. "This is cheesy," he adds, shattering the silence with a roar to clear his throat. "So, this recorder was discovered in my grandfather's house, amid his possessions... yep, grandpa. I'm going to call you Grandpa. I hope this reaches you in some manner. I hope," His final line appears to be agonising, and Hamilton appears to share his emotions. He becomes engaged in Zeno's dialogue with Grandpa, the antique cassette recorder.

Hamilton may not need to listen to the entire tape, but he does need to find out what really happened and straighten things up, and understanding everything that was going on in Zeno's life may help him do so. He is concentrated because Zeno is relying on his comprehension. This time, for the first time in a long time, Zeno is at the mercy of Hamilton.

***

"Some beings are constructed with care," Clare says as they drive past a black Toyota Fortuner parked a block away from their neighborhood.

"And none of our concern," Viola dismissively adds to the man sleeping in his car. She's driving and tries to stay focused on the road, but she appears concerned by what some people do, by what she deems reprehensible behaviour. "It's insane that he has to sleep in his car. I mean," She considers it for a while before speaking up. "What does that say about him?" she didn't mean to question, but she knew Clare would start on it the soon she thought of being vocal about her thoughts.

"It would mean," she pushes her lips together as she searches for the proper term, but she soon smiles. "A handsome man sleeping in his sexy car," she laughs, causing Viola to roll her eyes and smile broadly.

"Or, he done something wrong for his wife to kick him out?" she speculates. Clare frowns for a minute, tilting her head to the right as she looks ahead.

"Maybe, but it could also mean he's a prince looking for his true love," she says, holding her hands in the air to prevent Viola from mocking her thoughts. “Or, he could be here to serenade his life's love," she shakes her chest, biting her lip hard to make a point.

"You know," Viola says as she shakes her head at Clare. She pulls her shawl from her right shoulder and tosses it at her. "I believe that man is none of our concern, but to run one last check," she urges Clare to follow the same routine they've been doing all morning. The constant nagging and checking and rechecking is becoming tediously recital, and this morning feels like it's infecting Clare in such a way that she growls in response to the recital action.

Clare despises seeing Viola agitated. Even though it happens seldom, every excellent night throws Viola into disarray, making her feel uneasy and doubtful about everything the next day. She appears to be an entirely different person than the one she once knew.

"Would you like to know what I know?" Clare asks her as she abandons her plan to go about what she just wants her to reinvestigate.

"That you're bored of me," she responds, returning her attention to the road, which is becoming increasingly congested.

"Oh, no," Clare says, shaking her head. She shuts her eyes and exhales deeply. Every time she sees her, her heart sinks, since she wasn't always this tight. "I miss you," she says quietly, and a surge of emotion washes over Viola; her smile is gone, and she can feel her heart in her neck. "I used to admire you. A lady who is brilliant, eccentric, and free-spirited. You know, I only hope you rediscover your true self." She stands up and walks to the back room, where the kitchen is.

Viola keeps her attention fixed on the road ahead, swallowing hard to keep tears from streaming down her cheeks and her eyes glossy. Not only does Clare miss the old Viola, but she also misses herself.

Clare did not go to the rear to repeat herself, but she is hoping to avoid her sister, who appears to be lost in her thoughts at the mention of her last sentence. She is well aware of how much she despises the subject, beginning with anything that has transpired in her life. Clare, unlike their mother, who makes every effort to comprehend her, is expecting change lately. Despite her desire to give her the attention she deserves, she, too, has become tired of the situation. It's almost as though Viola is resisting change because she doesn't want it.

Viola has a life phase she doesn't remember, as if something was deliberately deleted. She doesn't want to remember it because she is afraid of discovering the truth about what happened during the year she was away. She had collective recollections of her last moments, when she was fleeing something or someone. She recalls the terror as if it were happening right now. It's been four years since the incident, but she still wakes up screaming at night in response to a dream she can't make sense of and doesn't want to understand. She knows one thing for certain: whatever occurred wasn't good.

She is aware that she dislikes being touched; anything that would introduce her to a new group of people bothers her. She discovers the food van as an escape plan; she can focus on the cooking, which is improving from day to day, while her sister interacts with clients; this busyness is therapeutic. She likes the unflattering clothing she has to wear because no one looks at her for any reason. She feels secure in her current situation. She may be unrecognisable to others and even to herself, but feeling safe makes it all better, though it doesn't mean she doesn't miss her former self.

Clare remembers how miserable her life was prior to relocating to Miami. They have a typical way of living. Sergio, their father, worked as a nightclub security guard, and Amanda, their mother, was a registered nurse. Most evenings, the sisters were as free as they could be. Viola was a free-spirited girl at the time; she didn't mind going out and socializing, but she would tag her younger sister along, so they got along well. Their parents had no idea they were partying, but having siblings that get along very well was a stress off their shoulders. They would support one another very well.

Because they were a year and five months apart in age, the sisters got along as though they were friends rather than siblings competing for their parents' attention. They used to do practically everything together, but when Viola earned a scholarship to Yale University, that had to change. It was a momentous deal, and she was going to become the family's, the circle to her father's side, first girl to make it. Clare realised at that point that she was becoming increasingly interested in becoming a chef. Their parents provided them with everything they required and possessed.

Viola called her parents one day and informed them that she would be travelling to Mexico with friends. Her costs were taken care of, and she was overjoyed. They were anxious because it was her first journey that far away from them after she moved to the university, and she might have to be gone for days without calling them, but they didn't want to let her down. After all, she was merely notifying them about the phone arrangement; she would call them, but not as frequently as they were accustomed to due to her trips to remote locations.

Days turned into months. They hadn't heard from their daughter, but worried parents began contacting them. Twenty of them have left, but none have returned phone calls. The horror began when many parents began searching for their lost children in Mexico.

For some parents, the cost of the search was easy to cover, but for most, like Amanda and Sergio, it was every dime of their life savings. Sergio had to return to his former ways to offer more, rejoining the gang he had left long before he married Amanda. Clare's growing dissatisfaction began to influence her in every part of her life. The love and serenity they once had in their lives simply vanished along with her sister.

After a year of non-stop search parties launched for twenty of the missing friends, five of them were discovered, disoriented and with no memory of what had happened to them. Four of them have been discovered in the same state, staggering in separate directions and miles apart. One was discovered overdosed and in the depths of the Chihuahua forests with various injuries. The state they were discovered in suggested that they had been in an accident, but this was later proven to be otherwise. The man has cuts from surgeries, a missing kidney, and a bullet wound on his left leg, and the three ladies, including Viola, have signs of emotional, physical, and s****l abuse. They couldn't locate the rest of the missing groups or anything that might suggest what might have happened to them.

Parents were left in the dark about what their children would be subjected to. The only thing they had was speculation based on the medical report from the deceased girl and the four surviving friends.

When Viola returns home with her mother, she discovers that her father is in prison for attempted bank robbery and that Clare has already begun working at their grandparents' (Amanda's parents') restaurant in Miami.

After a month in their former home in Detroit, Viola is forced to relocate to Miami after reading in the news that one of the survivors jumped off the building. It was expected that the change would benefit her, but it did not. Sleepless evenings and the terror of those around her were not consoling her or anybody else. She disliked all of the doctor's appointments and continued to withdraw. She is disturbed by inquiries she dislikes every time a family member visits her grandparents.

Clare suspected Viola was calmer when she was busy, based on her sister's placid demeanour in the kitchen. She spent her life savings on an old school bus, and they worked tirelessly to transform it into the paradise it is today. They began to take advantage of the chance once Viola found the labor therapeutic. Meanwhile, Amanda completed the sale of their home and was transferred to a hospital in Miami. Amanda's daughters opt to move in with their mother when she obtains the condo since it is better for them. After all, they wanted to learn more about their father without their grandparents' disapproving him from the start, and Viola needed to get away from the curious eyes that wanted to know about her predicament while she was away.

Clare had to speak about Viola today for the first time since they began living a steady life and years after what happened to her. She must be sick of the situation, and Viola is starting to notice it these days.

As she returns to the present, she pushes her lips together as she parks the bus at its normal stop. They're opening late today because they awoke late from last night's family reunion on their father's side.

Viola rushes to the kitchen as Clare steps out and begins spreading yellow giant umbrellas and arranging chairs with tables beneath them. It appears that they are attempting to avoid each other.

"Good morning, ladies. I hope everything is well with you girls," an older man, a regular customer, greets Clare as she arranges chairs and a table by the sister's bus. He takes a seat, exhaling.

"Doctor," she smiles as she walks to him. "We had late visitors last night," she explains to him as she walks towards him. "Is it the usual or would you like to go for something different?"

"Since you opened late, it would be wonderful to spice things up a little," he says, winking at her, and she giggles.

"It's on me today," she says as she walks back to Viola.

***

Everything they've been working on for the previous three days is for today. Unfortunately, Zeno had fallen asleep in his automobile with the tape recorder in his hand, fatigued from all of his hard work. He is startled awake by the sound of his phone ringing, and he clears his throat and rubs his eyes. He dropped the tape recorder when waking up and gave it his full focus to pick it up before checking his phone.

He pulled his pistol from the glove compartment and checked the time on his phone after placing the recorder there. It's nine forty-five. He is known for being an early bird, but it is clear that he has succumbed to exhaustion today.

"f**k," he says, shaking his head at the notion of missing driving Viola and her sister to their working placement. "Frank?" he shrugs, astonished at how many times he'd called and missed him, but as he scrolls down, he realises Hamilton had texted him good luck. "Today is going to be difficult." He leans to the left, thinking aloud, and calls for Frank.

"Where have you been?" he yells from the other end of the phone, and Zeno shrugs.

"What is the point of this?" Zeno is taken aback by the treatment he has just received for an issue he is unaware of.

"Men, you're late," Frank says, leaving Zeno puzzled. "We've arrived at the new location, and she's waiting for you."

"Mrs. Turner?" Zeno inquires, pausing to consider why he should be meeting with Hamilton's aunt.

"Yes," Frank responds. Zeno can hear the tension in his voice, but he wants to be certain.

"Why would she be waiting for me?" he wonders, but he suspects she might want to know something about tonight's celebration before everyone else.

"I'm not sure, but she's been bugging me all morning to contact you. She seems determined to remain till you arrived." He explains it to him.

"OK," he says carefully, nodding. "I'll be there in a few moments. " He gets off the phone. Zeno licks his lip moist as he mulls over the scenario. He grabs his phone and prepares to notify Hamilton of the situation, but he reconsiders. What's there to inform him about? Zeno wants to be certain about what he is going to tell him. After all, she is Hamilton's aunt and a member of his family. Zeno's list of suspects placed her second in line to eliminate him. He's looking for anything tangible to inform Hamilton. He starts the engine and drives to the new location.

He arrived in about an hour because the rod was already busy, and they were waiting for him, as Frank informed him. He noticed her Mercedes parked and Frank standing outside.

Zeno walks up to the car and sits beside her to her right in the back seat, looking from left to right.

It seems her attempt to hide her face behind the peach pink scarf has succeeded. She twists her right foot in her stiletto that matches her black pants every now and then. Her hands are massaging her nose, and he can see she's trying to show him how much the scent of his cheap cigarette bothers her. She doesn't want to turn around and look at him even once. It's clear to him that if this isn't essential, this isn't even the last place she'd want to be.

"I’m sure you didn’t miss me. I have no time to waste sitting here," Zeno interrupts the stillness after making an insightful remark.

"Well, I can tell what my husband admires about you," she finally begins, rolling down the window and turning to face him, her cat-eye huge sunglasses obscuring her cheekbones. "Straight to business always fascinates him, though it makes me question the attitude of a person." Her dry lips are stretched sideways in a forced smile. He simply frowns and looks at her tiresomely. As she looks ahead, she clears her throat. "I have a proposal for you."

"I think I should notify Mr. Hamilton." She shakes her head as he takes out his phone.

"Did you tell him that you were about to meet me now?" She inquires, and he remains silent, smirking as he listens to her. She smiles as she is about to respond to her own question. "My guess," sucking her lips in to emphasize, she turns to him and then away. "You didn't do it. You want to be more than just a lap dog."

"And let me guess," he replies, smiling and biting his bottom lip slightly. "You are the only person who would do that for me."

"Why not?" she asks, smiling at him. "I want you to consider this. Give yourself some time, and I'll make sure you get the attention you deserve."

"In exchange?" Zeno inquires.

"I'd like to get ahead of your employer. Who gets first and where in business is everything. I'd like to know what he intends to do with this property, as well as his other intentions."

Zeno remains perplexed as he glances at her for a moment. He assumed she wanted to take over Hamilton's empire. But her interest is all about business and thriving, and she only wants to make hers bigger than Hamilton's. This eliminates her from his consideration.

"So?" she asks as he opens the door, and he laughs slightly.

"Don’t ever contact me again. I'll see to it that you live to regret it," he says as he walks away, her lips gaping in surprise. He simply walks into the building to run his first routine check at this site.

He walks back to his car and drives downtown to his apartment after talking with the construction workers. He walks to the elevator and then stops to contemplate and look around. He then enters and ascends to the fourth story.

"Hey, handsome," a female says, and he comes to a halt as he scrutinises her figure from head to toe.

"Dressed to kill. Are you going somewhere?" he says. As she goes backwards, he takes considerably closer steps towards her, biting her lower lip as she makes eye contact with him.

She comes to a halt as she leans against a wall, his right hand over her head, his left hand going around her west, drawing her closer to himself.

"Tell me," he says softly, leaning in closer to her. "Where are you going?"

"I thought there were no borders between us?" she asks, closing her eyes.

"I believe this is the boundary we both like." He responds with a smile, inspecting her flawless pale face and trembling pink lips. She blinks open her grey eyes, revealing a half-smile.

"I'm going to be late. See you tonight if your new toy doesn't keep you entertained." He smiles as she walks away with an attitude.

He shakes his head as he considers the likelihood of him being with her. She'd know how to drive him mad because she's always dressed well and going out. Her character would make him feel insecure, and he would most likely be preoccupied with killing those around her. But, no. His Viola is unique. He can trust her, not because no one wants her, but because he knows she would never put herself in a situation that would jeopardise their relationship. Unfortunately, she has never met him. In fact, he has imagined everything he could think about her.

He walks into his flat, shaking his head from the thought. He breathed in and cleared his throat as he closed his door behind him.

"Welcome home, Zeno." His AI greets him, and he smiles as he nods.

"Play music," he orders his Google assistant.

"Playing music," she proceeds as he begins to unbutton his shirt. As he walks to his bathroom to undress, an instrumental song begins to play through the house's amplifiers.

"Viola, change music, play ‘you put a spell on me’." He places his order while thinking about Viola and her unexpectedly pleasant attitude to last night's dinner with her family, as well as her smile and laughter.

"Changing music," the assistant he named after Viola, starts processing the order. "Playing, you put a spell on me."

***

"No, don’t do this. Don’t go in. f**k!" George hits the dashboard of the car he is in. Just as he opens the door to the car, William holds his arm and stops him.

"No. Let's wait," He implores him. "You know, we can’t face a man like Zeno," he reminds him.

"He’s my homme…"

"That’s why he let you in on this?" he asks, making George hesitate before approaching him. "This isn’t the first time I saw him with her. or Dr. Miller. I think he wants to catch the bigger fish. Something's wrong," William suggests to George, making him bite his lower lip hard. "If I wasn't entirely sure you had nothing to do with this, I wouldn't have come to you. Hamilton needs someone he can trust."

"He doesn't roll like that," he says quietly as he reclines in the automobile. "There has to be something." George is only expressing his thoughts.

"You can believe that. But if this isn’t what I think it is, I know he would have come to pick you up. He didn't even ask. The new boss knows what he had to do, if it wasn’t for that. Prison, I mean, maximum security prison, would have been your new home." He keeps peering over at the irritated George, wondering how deep his plantation could be working between the pals. "I say let’s talk about this with Hamilton, before he makes him do something stupid tonight," he says.

"Yes," he hastily nods, as he thinks, looking at Zeno taking his time in the car to their boss’s aunt. "All right, let's get this party started," he adds as he starts the engine.