Resurrection

Flashback

I held the picture frame in my hands. Tears were threatening to leave my eyes as I stared down at the picture of both of us. He had an arm wrapped around my shoulder and his head was tilted to the side so that it was touching mine. My lips were on his cheek and I was holding his hand that was on his lap. We looked so happy. I looked so happy.

I didn't want to leave him, not when he made me feel so happy, but things had changed between us. When I had joined the family business, I saw things that no teenager should ever see. It made me view the world differently, and it made me view my family differently. I couldn't be the happy girl that Louis wanted me to be anymore. I felt empty and alone. I couldn't tell him about any of this because it was dangerous. If my family found out, there was no doubt they would kill him in an instant. I couldn't leave the family business either because they would have blamed it on Louis. I don't know what I would with myself if I ever put Louis in harm's way.

My parents constantly told me not to start a relationship with him. They didn't like him because he made me a better person. My parents were afraid that he would take me away from them, that I would drift away. My brother agreed with my parents. He agreed with everything that came out of my parent's mouth.

That's why I convinced my parents to move back to America. They were more than happy to because it meant being away from Louis.

I never told him I was leaving. I never said goodbye. He called me multiple times for months, and one day he just stopped. The pain was unbearable.

I heard the front door downstairs opened and slam shut. There was the sound of my dad laughing with his buddies. I gently set the frame down on my desk and slowly made my way down the stairs.

My dad was sitting on the couches with two of his friends and they were watching a football game on the television while drinking beer. I walked into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich when my dad entered in his drunken state.

"Hey Ava," he waved with a laugh leaving his mouth. I rolled my eyes as he sauntered over to me, "I need to ask you for a favor."

He put a hand on my shoulder for support, and I grimaced at the smell of alcohol that entered my nostril whenever he talked.

"Sure."

"Good!" he grinned happily, "My friends out there hasn't slept with anyone for a very very long time, and they're willing to pay. You know our family needs the money right now."

I stepped away from him and stared at my dad in disgust.

"No! I am not going to let those men touch me!" I took another step back as he stepped towards me.

"Why not? It's not a big deal," he rolled his eyes, already getting angry. He hated when someone said no to him. Add that to list of many things that made him angry.

"No," I said firmly and he frowned.

"No?" His eyes narrowed down as he took threatening steps towards me, "No?!?"

I kept on backing away from him until my back hit the counter behind me and I was trapped. His bloodshot eyes were huge as he glared at me with so much anger that frightened me.

"Dad please," I pleaded, "Please calm down."

He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the counter. A scream left my lips when I felt the pain in my lower back. He did it repeatedly and slammed a fist into my cheek. I pleaded repeatedly but he continued to slam me against the counter. I could already feel the multiple bruises. My hand went to the knife that was beside me and I gripped it tightly in my hands.

"Please stop," I croaked but he didn't listen.

"You have no right to say no to me!" he yelled in my face, "I am your father and you have no authority over me!"

He sent another fist in my face.

Everything that happened after that became a blur to me. I blinked repeatedly, trying to convince myself that I was having a nightmare, but this was really happening.

He was lying on the ground with the blood oozing out of his chest. He was staring back at me.

Betrayal, disappointment, anger, and hatred.

Then he stopped moving. He stopped breathing, His opened lifeless eyes stared back at me. I fell down to my knees and stared at his pale, lifeless body. My eyes moved to my bloody hands and a sob escaped my mouth.

I pulled out his phone and called the police. I've seen my family kill and I've seen other people kill each other, but I've never kill anyone before. I vowed not to kill, but I did anyway and it was my father who I murdered.

The two men had left immediately and my mom and brother had walked through the door a few minutes later. My brother stood at the entrance, frozen in shock and horror. My mom had pushed me away and cried on her husband's non-moving chest.

The police arrived and took me in for questioning. They ruled it as a self defense, but that didn't make me feel any better. I had just killed my father and my mom blamed me. My brother tried to convince me it wasn't my fault, but I didn't feel it. I could barely sleep, let alone eat.

That's why I left.

I couldn't live in the house with my mother blaming me for everything that went wrong in the family. I couldn't live with brother, knowing that I had killed our father, taking away the only man and father figure in his life. Even if he tried to convince it wasn't my fault, I know it was.

That's when the CIA entered my life, and changed it forever.

"Naomi!" A voice shouted and I felt my shoulder being shook.

My eyes shot open and I grabbed the gun that was under my pillow. I flipped the person onto the bed and used my forearm to choke the person, not hard enough to kill her though. I pushed the gun to her temple, and she froze.

"Na-omi, i-its me Alex," she struggled to speak. I focused my eyes through the dark and sure enough, it was her that I had my gun pressed to.

"Alex?" I said, shocked to see her here in my hotel room...in London.