Taboo Love

DAMIEN’S POINT OF VIEW I was in my office making arrangements for the opening of my new nightclub when there was a knock followed by the door opening, and soon after, my mom entered. “Baby, your father wants to talk to you.” I nod, then, with a heavy sigh, I stand up and follow her. I take a deep breath before I enter his bedroom, open the door reluctantly, and then go and sit next to him, on the chair next to his bed. “Yes, sir?” “Damien, I want to tell you that I talked to a good friend of mine, and he will--” His sentence is interrupted by a fit of coughing. My father has terminal cancer. I can’t say that I will shed a tear because he isn’t a dad to me, and for him, I’m not his son. I’m his soldier, and he always treated me like one. He never hugged me, never bought me ice cream, but instead, criticized me at every step. I was never good enough, never man enough for his standards. “He will take my place as your right hand.” I take a few seconds to calm myself down and do my best not to show my anger, then do my very f*****g best to keep my voice low. “I don’t need a right hand. I can manage just fine by myself. I’m 30 years old. I don’t need a babysitter.” He considers himself my right hand, but that can’t be further away from the truth. I have to admit that he was someone in the old days but he didn’t catch up with the times, with the technology, and because of that I had a lot of problems and I had to bribe a lot of people that didn’t need bribing, but tell him this and he’ll raise Hell. I was trained ever since I started to talk to show no mercy, and have no empathy towards anyone. I think I knew how to hold a gun before I knew how to hold cutlery properly. I was trained to fight ever since I started walking, and not in a fun, Karate kid-way, but in a way that left me bruised, bloody, and most of the time unconscious, but that stopped bothering me after a short while and I always gave my best because I wanted to be the best, and I became the best. I took the business to another level, I expanded it, and I’m ashamed to admit but, I used to do it to also get a f*****g “Good job” from him, but it never came. I don’t give a s**t anymore. “Damien, this is not up for discussion. If you don’t obey, I will talk with Arturo, and he will stop supplying you.” The bastard wants to control me even from his f*****g grave. Arturo is the main supplier from Colombia, and he respects me and knows that I’m a better businessman and also better at being a heartless motherfucker than my father ever was, which in our business is the best quality someone can have, but he’s loyal to this bastard because he once saved his life, so, I clench my jaw to control my need to kill him on the spot, -even though the idea is very f*****g tempting right now, but I want him to live for as long as possible, to suffer and perish slowly-, and look at Mom, who is giving me a small, sympathetic smile. “Yes, sir.” I miraculously manage to agree through gritted teeth. “Good. He’ll be here tomorrow.” “What?!” “You can get out...” He tried to shout, but the fucker is too weak to raise his voice, so it sounded like a gruff, barely growl. I need to go to the gym. “Daddyyyyy!” “Daddy!” My anger dissipates at the sound of my twin babies, Cataleya and Noah. My kids and Mom are the only people I love and care about. The only people I hide my dark side, my ugly demons from. I had a few encounters with their mother, who now is my wife, also thanks to my dear father, who insisted on me marrying her. At first, I was angry at myself for not being careful enough, but as soon as I saw and held them in my arms, I was hooked. Linda and I don’t have a relationship. She has her room, I have mine, she has her life, I have mine. I can’t stand her, and I have two damn good reasons. Firstly, she doesn’t get involved in our kids’ lives, and secondly, I am more than positive that the pregnancy wasn’t an accident. She’s the daughter of a good friend of my dad’s, and it happened right around the time when my dad was insisting on me getting a family. Because I know for damn sure that I wore a condom. But, as I said, it’s a mistake that now I love more than anything in this world. They both come running, and I lower myself to their level and pick them up in my arms. “Where’s the fire?” “Daddy, Noah ripped my doll’s head off.” Cataleya puffs and looks angrily at Noah, and I suppress a laugh and act all serious. “Noah? Why did you do it?” I ask in a serious tone and raise one eyebrow at him. “She broke my car first!” He straightens his back and points at her with the same amount of anger Cataleya has in her small body. God, I love these creatures. “Yes, but he pushed me.” “Noah, why did you push her?” “She pushed me first!” God, this is endless. I put them down and take both of their chins between my thumbs and indexes, making them look at me. “Very good then. I see that you don’t get along. I want the both of you to go to your room, and don’t come out until you’re ready to apologize to one another. And, no tablets.” They both look at me as if I just told them that all the puppies in the world have been killed. And let me tell you something, puppies are gods for them. I just want to eat them alive, but they have to learn to respect and love each other. “You just had to come and snitch. Are you happy now?” Noah snaps at Cataleya as they walk away, but she sasses right back, putting the blame on him. I suppress a laugh and look at them going to their rooms and bickering. They are only seven years old, but they are smart. Maybe I’m biased because they are mine, but they are the most beautiful children I have ever seen, and luckily, neither of them inherited Linda’s character. I go to the gym, and my father’s words start echoing in my head. I pour my anger on the punching bag for god knows how long, and by the time I finish, sweat rolls down on me, my arms ache, but I feel better. Not much. Just a bit. Fuck him! I take a cold shower, then go downstairs to the dining room, where Mom is setting the table and the kids are playing with the silverware. “So, I get it that you made up?” I ask, and they both look at me with big smiles on their faces. “Yes!” “Yeah.” “Did you apologize?” They both nod, then resume their playing. “Mom, have you seen her?” I never say Linda's name because I don’t want to upset the kids. “Not since this morning.” Even though Linda is absent in their lives, they still love and miss her. “Just great.” She sighs heavily but doesn’t say anything else. As usual, the food smells heavenly, and on a normal basis I would have eaten two plates, but now I can barely swallow due to the thought that I’m forced into having a right hand. I’ll f*****g go insane before Marco dies. ROMAN’S POINT OF VIEW I was at home, watching TV and enjoying a glass of whiskey when my phone rang. I look at it and I see Marco’s number. Oh, no. I take a deep breath then swap my finger over the screen, and answer the phone. “Hello, Roman.” “Hi, Marco. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Not really pleasure, but... “I need a favor.” We have known each other for more than 20 years, and we helped each other many times, but he’s the kind of man to whom you give one finger, and he takes the whole hand. I’m not a dealer, I have a legal security company, and most of my men are honest, working men, and whom I don’t involve in this world, but I have a few who know all about it and are more than thrilled to do these kinds of jobs because it pays a whole lot better. So, last time, I was the one who helped him by lending him some of my guys for a few months, so there’s no way in hell or heaven that I’ll do him any favors. “I’m sorry Marco, but--” He interrupts me. Of course, he does. He always does. He’s lucky that I’m a calm man. “I’m dying, Roman. And I need you to come and be the right hand of my son. He needs someone. He is stubborn and childish.” Oh, f**k, damn! He starts coughing, and I sigh in defeat. One last favor won’t kill me, right? “Isn’t he old enough to handle his business?” “On his birth certificate, yes, but otherwise, no. And besides, the businesses expanded. More clubs, more… you know what. Please, Roman, you’re the only one I trust.” “When do you need me there?” “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow? No. I need time to find rent, I need to--” “We have more than enough space here. We have a big guest house. You can stay there. I don’t know how long I’ll…” And he starts coughing again. Damn it! “I’ll be there.” “And Roman, please be patient with him. He’s not so thrilled about this.” Well, that makes two of us. “I will. You know me. But, until when do you need me?” “As long as possible.” That’s accurate. “Okay. And Marco?” “Yes?” “I’m sorry about… you know.” I’ve dealt with death more often than I would have liked to, but I still don’t know what to say in cases like this. I was in the Marines and after a few years I was transferred to the Navy Seals because of my high performance, so I’ve seen and done s**t in the name of my dear country that no human should see or do. Especially not for a country that disposes of you like you are nothing if you’re not good for them anymore. It didn’t happen to me, but I saw enough cases to make me turn them down when they offered me a promotion. I chose to open my own business, and well... do side jobs when it suits me. For example, I’m always up to killing rapists, abusers, etc., and if I’m getting something else besides satisfaction out of it, even better. “Me too.” And, he hangs up the phone. Yeah, goodbye to you too. Well, I saw the kid once, but he was like 10, and as far as I can remember, he wasn’t sociable at all. Have fun, Roman.