Author's note: This is my original work and the characters, story, and other unique content are mine. Others are not permitted to use or replicate any of the material in this story. This includes copy/pasting and/or scraping for any personal use (to include, but not limited to, placing my work into Ai bots of any kind).

TW: This story contains mention of assault, domestic neglect, as well as other adult themes.

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Walking through the cemetery I felt no sadness nor longing, only the vague familiarity that came with returning to the place I once visited often as a child.

My heart has long since healed from the loss of my mother, and now I focus only on the good memories she left me - the only remaining tie to my past I still claim. Even the name she gifted me has long since been set aside, dying the night those that should have protected me left me to bleed out the loyalty of blood ties.

In my heart she is my mother, but nothing remains as proof beyond my remembrance of the anniversary of her death - a day when the others that should be here to pay their respects forget where she lays.

I know they've forgotten each year I've been away the moment I stop at her grave - over grown and never tended in the years since that horrible night.

"Mongrels," I grumble, crouching down to clear the headstone with gentle tugs at the weeds and soft brushes along the dirt-filled letters.

It doesn't take long to reveal her name and photo where once it had been buried beneath the grime of time.

She is the only reason I have returned at all.

I saw the notice posted to the website for the cemetery warning that the sites were being moved due to a city construction project. Those left unclaimed would be moved without ceremony to the new plot the city had chosen.

My mother remained unclaimed until the last day when I chose to step in.

I've come to arrange for her movement to my new home where I will visit her frequently and tend to her grave myself. She was forgotten just like I was, and so she will come with me to my new life far from here where she will be appreciated. If my biological relatives didn't care enough about her to protect her, even in death, they don't deserve to know what is happening with her.

I notice, of course, the grave site beside hers that bears a familiar name and a photo that acts as a reflection of a face five years younger than the one I now possess... but I ignore it entirely. That girl died long ago, and her grave can remain for those that bother to visit it.

It, strangely, is maintained and fairly clean. They cared for it more than they ever cared for me when they believed I was alive.

A gasp behind me didn't go unnoticed, but I ignored it even as I dusted my hands and stood - stretching my back slightly. I pulled my phone out casually, dialing a number and putting my phone on mute just in time to slip it into my pocket before a brutal grip closed around my upper arm.

"Are you fucking serious?!"

I hissed involuntarily at the pain from his hold, glaring at the man before me with all of the hate and loathing I can force into my gaze.

It brings me pride to see his eyes go wide in shock.

"How dare you?" I asked lowly, pulling my arm away and succeeding in the motion as he stands frozen, "Don't you ever touch me. I find your very presence filthy."

Turning on my heel I moved to walk away, still needing to finalize the paperwork with the groundskeeper before I make my way back to the hotel. I didn't make it two steps before the same grip around the same arm yanked me back.

"I thought you were fucking dead, Mars! Dead! Do you know what that did to me?!" his voice got louder and louder as he glared at me, roaring out the final words as if he were the victim.

As if he were the one left to bleed to death, pinned under the frame of a car on the side of the road.

"I don't, and I don't care," I grit, pulling my arm and not managing to get free a second time, "You told me to die and never bother you again. I did. Now let go of me!"

"Do you really think this act will work?" he spit, making me blink in surprise and look at him with a furrowed brow, "Five fucking years, Mars. You faked your death and let me think you died for five fucking years! That's not a damn tantrum anymore. I don't care how much you beg or what you have to say-"

"Are you insane?" I snapped, smacking him across the face to force him to release me and taking a leap away, "You came after me at my mother's grave and then have the nerve to act like I'm the one pining? Get over yourself Lukas, you are nothing to me. You stopped meaning anything to me the day you left me to die while you married someone else. Stay away from me, or so help me I'll call the police and have you arrested for assault."

I turned and ran with everything I had to the groundskeeper's office, darting into the door of the building in the hopes that I'd have a witness if my lunatic ex-fiancé decided to follow me and try something else.

Luckily for me, he did not.

"Mrs. Ester," an older man bowed slightly in greeting when I finally caught my breath and looked toward the desk, "I've been expecting you."

"Mr. Roger, the groundskeeper, I presume?" I asked breathily, trying to feign a level of composed I did not feel at all.

I subtly reached into my pocket and hung up the call. I will need to call him properly when I leave here, but he should have heard that I made it to the groundskeeper and know I'm safe - for now.

"Indeed," he confirmed, studying me with a quizzical look, "You know, if I didn't know you were Mr. Ester's daughter I'd swear you were Marcy Logan. You are the spitting image of the woman whose grave sits beside Mrs. Logan's. Are you intending to have them both moved?"

"I am not," I deny, shaking my head slowly and walking toward him as I reach into my bag and pull out the envelope, "I am here only for Mrs. Lila Logan. The grave beside her means nothing to me, and the family will need to claim it if they have thoughts on the matter."

I handed him the brown envelope filled with all of the documents he required, including the check for payment to ensure that the process hit no hiccups.

"Ah, I understand," Mr. Roger nodded, "let me get this filed and your receipt then Mrs. Ester. I have a few loose ends to wrap up with you and then you'll be able to be on your way."

In less than an hour it was finalized and completed, and I was able to sigh in relief that my mother's grave would not be disturbed without the proper rights and ceremony to keep from torturing her soul.

She was tortured enough - no reason to add desecrated remains to the list.

"I didn't forget you mother," I murmured as I slipped the paperwork into my purse and exited the building, "even if everyone else did."

Sighing I swung back by her headstone to linger for a moment longer, then turned to head back to the rental I'd left at the foot of the hill. I'm already anxious to leave, and if it wasn't already so damn late I'd consider adjusting our flight so we could leave sooner.

Having a run-in Lukas was not on my to-do list for this little venture, and now I'm on edge as I slip into the small car anxiously and lock the doors instinctively. Even the drive is nerve-wracking - not that I've been great with driving ever since the crash. I've improved enough to handle short drives, but the truth is that my husband and adopted brother have spoiled me these last years. I haven't had to drive myself hardly at all since I recovered.

I let out a breath as I step out of the car, quickly making my way to the sidewalk I've parked along and making the short hike toward the hotel. I think a long bath and some room service are in order - a bit of pampering on a husband-free, child-free night after the unpleasantness at the cemetery.

My planning is quickly interrupted by squealing tires, and I've hardly had the time to look to see the black car that's skidded to a stop at an angle beside the sidewalk before the backdoor swings open and I am yanked inside with a startled cry of surprise.

I'd barely cleared the door before it was slammed and locked, my body thrown against the door opposite.

I groaned in pain, yanking on the door handle even before I managed to open my eyes in the hopes that I could jump out before we set off.

"Stop acting like a child," a cold voice had my attempts to open the locked door freezing in place, "Your behavior is already beyond unacceptable. Quit with the dramatics."

Turning slowly, I felt the disgust make its way to my face as I found a man that held the title of brother only because we both came from the same womb.

"You just kidnapped me off the street and you want to pretend like I'm dramatic? Let me out. Now, Nicholas."

His eye twitched, and I flinched instinctively - not that it stopped the way his hand connected with the side of my face and made lights flash in my eyes.

His eye always twitches right before he hits me.

"I see you're as sharp-tongued and insolent as ever," he said lowly, grabbing a wet wipe from his pocket and wiping the hand he smacked me with, "I foresee quite a bit of discipline in your future if you don't grow up quickly, Marcy."

I turned to look at him, blood dripping from the corner of my lip, and I smiled. He froze at the look, and then I did something I never did in the history of my youth when he 'disciplined' me.

I shot my leg out and kicked him in the chest with absolutely everything I had.

"OOF!" he grunted, thrown into the door beside me.

I reached for my phone in my pocket and dialed the police, kicking out again and landing the next one on the side of his face. I watched his entire body slump down the side of the car unconscious, and I breathed a short sigh of relief.

"Police, what's your emergency?"

"My name is Maria, and I've been taken against my will by a man named Nicolas Logan," I rushed, "The car is locked and I knocked him out with a kick, but not before he started beating me. I can't get out and I don't know how long he'll be unconscious, but the driver hasn't stopped the car. I don't know where we're going."

"I understand, ma'am," the person on the other line said seriously, "We are tracking your phone now. Try and keep the phone on, even if you need to hide it and mute it. We'll be to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you," I breathed, noticing Nick was already shifting, "Fuck! He's waking up!"

"Mute the call. Hide the phone, preferably on your person," the person said immediately, "and just hold on!"

I nodded knowing she couldn't see me, and did as she said - sending a quick text before finally slipping the phone into my pocket. 

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