Always Been You

~Candice’s POV~

I pulled the trigger, and I shot June Blackwood out of anger, but what drew my attention was the sinister smile that Dante Monroe gave me at the moment of the shooting. It doesn’t make sense. It just doesn’t. After giving it a lot of thought, I came to the conclusion that I had been tricked. Was that enigmatic, horrifying man sent to me by Dante? No! Dante is far too easygoing. I took a look at the pool of blood that had just been caused by me. I was supposed to be nowhere near Dante and his family. Despite this being stated in the protection order that was issued against me, Dante and I had a perfectly normal conversation today, but why?

Wait…. He knew of my plans. Where the fuck is Mason Blackwood? As I was still pondering about Mason Blackwood, the man who gave me the silver gun walked in with Mason Blackwood in a wheelchair, mouth wide open, as though he were gaping for air, except he wasn’t. The man was drooling, and one could tell he couldn’t do anything for himself.

For how long has he been in that wheelchair?

Mason’s eyes traveled to my hand; I was still carrying the gun. Then his eyes landed on his lifeless sister. Tears started to come out of his eyes, but he couldn’t talk, scream, or move; he was just there. The man pushed Mason, left his wheelchair next to where I was standing, and went to sit down with Dante.

“I’ll have a Bloody Mary; it’s very bloody in here,” The man said as he looked at Dante and smiled. Then the two men were staring at my pathetic self. The police arrived just as I was about to run away from the scene, and they caught me before I could get away. Blood. Blood was everywhere, and I began to regret my actions. Dante played me; he knew I was obsessed with him and knew how far I would go for him. He made me kill. I tried to run, but I was too late; the police had already arrived.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Candice Murray, you are under arrest for the murder of June Blackwood, for a conspiracy against Mr. Monroe and his family, and for violating the protection order that was issued to you,” said the officer. My hands were cuffed while I was pinned against one of the tables.

“Ma’am, I was played; they made me do it.” The woman did not pay attention to what I was saying; all she did was drag me outside while I watched Dante, and the man who had given me the gun grinned devilishly at me.

I did what they wanted me to do, and I am paying for it because of my anger issues.

~Lola’s POV~

I sat on top of my bed thinking of how Mr. Monroe makes me feel. I want everything he does to me with those burning hands of his every day. Ever since our make-out session the other day in his study, I have been going to his room every night, wanting more of what he did to me that day. Call me crazy; I still remember nothing, but I want him. I want this. Antonio has already left, and I have been feeling a little better, though some might say I’m trying way too hard for my own good. All I want is to remember. It is imperative that I recall him along with the children. Right now, I know he is my husband and that the kids are ours. At least, now I know I have kids and have been trying my best to be their mom. After hearing a gentle knock at the door, I invited the person standing on the other side of the door to come inside, and then Mia entered the room.

“Hey Lola.” She starts.

“Hey, baby girl, are you ready for today?” She nodded. Since Antonio had left, Mia and I had been engaging in our own private sessions. Antonio advised me not to try too hard because everything would fall into place at the right time, but I am desperate; I want to love everyone around me the way I ought to. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but right now it seems forced because I can’t remember them. Mia has been telling me stories of how I used to treat them and what I liked. She gave me a photo album while flashing a friendly smile at me. After that, she sat down next to me and smiled while she waited for me to open the album, which I eventually did. The first picture appeared to be a snapshot from the moment I learned that I was carrying a child. The second one appeared to be the moment that I realized there were three, which was then followed by pictures documenting every stage of my pregnancy. My head started to hurt, and although I wasn’t sure what was causing it, I didn’t want to stop. Whatever it takes for them. Then I saw a picture of myself on the hospital bed carrying two children and Martha carrying one. I looked at that picture way more than I should have, and tears started coming out of my eyes unknowingly. I kept staring at the picture, and I got way too emotional.

“This is me, this is Tyler, and grandma was holding Kai.” Mia spoke, and for some reason it seemed as though I knew who was who. My headache continued to worsen, and blurred pictures appeared in the back of my mind. I then fell out of bed and hit my head very hard on the floor; the last thing I heard was Mia screaming for help.