Danny Torent's POV

Have you ever wondered how it would be if you could go back in time? To stop things before they happen and save the incoming chaos? They say you can't hold back certain demons without the right lock and key.

The pain that radiates down my throat is a welcome distraction from the scene in front of me. Two dangerous women are conversing with a short, brown-complexioned man at the other side of the bar.

The hidden anger in Penny's eyes is unmistakable from this angle, and I hope she plans to hide it. My eyes drift to Taryn and stay on her for a moment. Her petite stature makes her look innocent and incapable of doing harm. And it makes it harder to find out more about her.

Looking for the connection between her and Charlie has been as easy as getting Penny to stop using cartoon characters to swear. Chloe won't tell me shit, and Jack isn't on my side anymore after my stunt in the orphanage home.

The striking resemblance between Taryn and the man in front of them doesn't go unnoticed by me, and I narrow my eyes at him.

Who is he, and why have I never seen him before?

The man offers the women a cocky look before slipping into the crowd and disappearing from my sight.

A figure sits beside me and keeps their head facing the bartender.

"I see you've met my protégé, Terry Alden." The figure beside me says.

I scoff and turn around to a smiling Chinaman.

"You know, Shane, your ghost skills get irritating by the day," I tell him and eye the patrons besides us. Save for the group I came with, everyone else is dead drunk or too focused on getting there.

"Mind telling me where the second Griffin twin is."

Shane sighs and reaches for my drink. He downs it before he speaks, "Lola is on the brink of insanity. I've tried talking her out of her plans, but she won't budge, and I promised Peyton I'd protect her no matter the cost. But how can I protect her from herself?"

That's a question anybody who has come in contact with a Griffin asks. A family where they want to save everybody around them for the sake of their own lives.

The rhetorical question hangs in the air like a bad omen. Shane's eyes remain fixed on the glass while I study his thin form.

The man has lost more weight since the last time I saw him. Fresh scratches adorn his knuckles, and knife scars mar his neck. His dark hair looks unkept, and his features look shrunken. He runs his hand through his hair, lost in his own thoughts.

"Is there anything else I should I know?"

He sighs but refuses to meet my gaze, "I've was sworn to secrecy, so I can't tell you what's coming. I can only tell you to beware of the Spanish Mafia."

With a calm face, I ask, "Why should the British Empire be wary of the Spanish Mafia? We've made amends and joined forces against the French Dynasty."

"How sure are you that the Fueretes will keep to their word? You might have saved his children, but Carlos can still cross you if necessary."

I know that Carlos and Shane know each other, but I don't know how well they are and on what terms.

Before I can dwell on it further, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pick it up and see Dinah's name flashing on the screen. I answer the call, and her voice comes out faster than a bat straight out of hell.

"Danny! I need you to find Marci! One second, she's in the car with us, and next, she's walking into incoming traffic. I swear it's like she disappeared-" Her voice cuts abruptly abruptly by a grumpy one.

"Danny, where the hell is my daughter?!"

Before I can process the question, Shane plucks my phone from my fingertips and answers the raging couple.

He grins as he speaks to them, "I can assure you Marci is nowhere near us." He pauses, and despite the loudness of the voices on the other line, his smile doesn't falter. "We will find your daughter and return to you before the night ends. You have my word."

He ends the line and tosses my phone at me.

"Mind telling me why Dinah and Marcel are losing their shit?"

Shane gets up from his chair and tosses a few bills on the table.

"Come with me. I'll explain on the way."

He says and hurries towards the entrance. I look around for the people I came with and find them sucked into their own antics so they won't take not of my absence.

"Son of a bitch." I curse and follow Shane.

We jog out of the club and into a crowded sidewalk. I follow the Ghost like a flea on a dog as we approach an idle blue Sedan a few blocks from the club.

Shane hops into the driver's seat while I get into the passenger's. He brings the car to life and drives us out of the drunken area and into a busy freeway. The car's headlights look angry as they blind me momentarily from seeing the road, but Shane looks immune to them. He jumps from line to line. The car's speed increases as he drives us to god knows where.

"I believe you owe me an explanation." I turn to face him.

His eyes flick from me to the road briefly before focusing back on the road.

"If you're not aware, Marcel and his wife, Dinah split up for good at the beginning of this year. It has been taking its toll on Marci, and tonight must have been the last straw on the Camel's back. They had dinner with a family where the adults were trying to gag each other with insults. Long story short, Marcel suggests that Marci should come home with him and Dinah to talk. Our sweet girl decided now was the time to test the patience of the drivers in the Bahamas because she came out of a moving car and headed towards her safe heaven." He says in one breath.

Mulling over his words, I ask. "How do you know where she is going?"

He grins, "I'm the Ghost of our world, remember? It is my job to know everything about everybody. Weakness and strength alike." He stops the car in front of the abandoned playground where I met the second in command of the French Dynasty.

"Which is why I advise you to be careful, especially tonight. Marci is very volatile, and I won't go there with you." He tells me before flicking his head to the side. "Now get out."

I eye the abandoned infrastructure and spot a figure on the monkey bars. Coming from the car, I close the door quietly and creep towards the crying teenager.

I don't know how this place comforts this girl, but tonight I plan to find out.

Marci has her knees tucked into her torso as a tsunami of sadness rocks through her body. Her sobs pierce the night, creating enough noise to distract the nocturnal creatures and draw attention to herself.

"First rule, always stay on guard, even when you cry." Sam's voice says in my head.

I come to a halt in front of her and sigh. Accessing the situation, I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it. "It's not polite to stalk people."

"It's not polite to give your parents a heart attack, either."

She sniffs and keeps her head down.

They have not known me for dealing with people younger than me rationally, which is why I was hardly inside Kid's Paradise when they had customers.

"Marci, you shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you." She retorts and swipes at her face angrily. "Why are you intended to be in my safe space when you are the last thing that keeps me safe?"

Who would have thought she'd be rewording that statement?

I reign in my irritation and take a calmer route. "I'm not your enemy here. You know this place isn't safe anymore. Your parents need you to come home."

"My parents." She scoffs. "Mr and Mrs Wellington."

A hooting owl adds the eerily effect of our surroundings.

"You say it as if my well-being is on their priority list." A dark smile coats her lips, and her red-rimmed eyes connect with mine. "I can assure you, Danny, my parents don't give a damn about me."

I take my time to look at our surroundings while keeping my ear focus solely on her words.

It was almost midnight, and the shadow of darkness won't comfort black cats, but that wasn't the case for the girl in front of me. The only source of light in this place is a lonely street light that wasn't here the last time I was here.

The wind picks up, bringing the smell of rotting wood to my nostrils along with gunpowder.

I spy the bullet holes on the monkey bar above her head, and my eyes harden at the sight.

I will protect your daughter.

"I know Shane has already told you how I ended up here. My parents have had issues, and forcing them to put up with each other for my sake is a fool's paradise. I refuse to live there. So, tell me, Danny, why do you want me to live there? I thought we were friends?"

"We are." I fix my eyes on her. "Which is why you need to leave here and not return. I need you to trust me for your own good. How does this place give you any form of comfort?"

She hisses, "It holds more childhood memories than the house I grew up in. When I see the structures I used to play with and remember the fun I used to have with my parents, it makes me breathe. It makes me remember who I am and what I want."

Parents should be the bedrock of their children, not the bulldozer that will destroy them.

"So, you'd rather sit in the company of rotting wood and rusty iron than be with your parents under the same roof?"

Her eyes waver for a split second as my words register in her head, but the small bit of rationality left in her washes away as her eyes harden, solidifying her decision.

"You'll have to take me kicking and screaming." She tells me.

I kiss my teeth in irritation. "I can arrange that."

I reach for her, but she grips the monkey bars above her head and raises herself upwards. Simultaneously, she kicks me, and I fly backwards. I regain my footing in time to see her on top of the monkey bars in a crouching position.

We study each other, waiting for who will make the first move. The trees sway with the wind like spectators, and the Owl hoots.

Marci jumps off the monkey bars and lands next to a seesaw. I run after her, and she ducks underneath it and heads for the swing set.

If it will be this much of a hassle to get a teenager to come home, then I don't want kids.

She gets to the swing and pushes them to me as a distraction as she darts towards the exit of the place. I manoeuvre around the swinging seats and run after her.

The sound of gunshots has her freezing in her place, mere metres away from the exit. I catch up to her and place her behind me while scanning the area for the sound's origin. Reaching for my gun in my waistband, I swear as the realisation of the stupid thing rests on my dresser in the penthouse.

I look up to see golden eyes that shine brighter than the lonely street light approaching us. They hold many stories in them from afar, but a promise of revenge rests in their depths. Her heels crush the gravel beneath her feet as she strides towards us. An easy smile rests on her face, and it gets wider when she is within speaking distance.

"We meet again, Danny."

"Aunty Valentiá?" Marci's confused voice sounds from behind me. "What are you doing here?"

The crazy Nurse directs her gaze from me to her niece. "You haven't told her yet?"

The conversation Penny and I had with Marci weeks ago rings in my head, and I wonder if Marci is feigning ignorance or if she has truly forgotten how weary she should be of some of her relatives.

I feel Marci shift from behind me, and I tighten my grip on her. She nods feebly at Valentiá, "I'm aware. But I didn't believe that you, of all people, would want me dead."

Tapping the gun on her chin, Valentiá grins at the frightened teenager behind me. "Sweet of you to assume that hidden threats are passive. I don't plan to only kill you. I want to drop your head on your parent's doorstep."

"Woman, I advise you to bite your tongue," I warn her.

I half hoped that Marci would have listened and never walk alone, but the god dammed teenager is as stubborn as a mule.

My brain racks up different escape routes, but none end in my favour with my absentee weapon and the glinting gun in Valentiá's hand. I inhale quietly to calm my being and go for another way.

"If you spare us tonight, I'll lead you to Joey."

Valentiá scoffs, "Killing Joey would be too easy. I want to make all of you suffer for what happened to me."

I pinch Marci's upper hand and shift her further backwards. Hoping that she'll get the message and move away, but the girl stared at me blankly and remained rooted to her spot.

I turn my attention back to Valentiá and continue to speak. "Do you really want everyone to suffer? Or is that the woman that Kasie wanted you to be talking?"

She sneers, "Funny, you speak about her. Last time I checked, she's in your custody, and I want her head as well, but you of all people should know how beneficial it is to work up the ranks."

"So, if you wanted to kill Marcel, then why didn't you finish the job?" I raise a brow and tighten my hold on Marci.

The mention of her father's near-death experience isn't putting me in her good books, but I'll worry about that when we are both out of harm's way.

"Killing Marcel would have been too easy. I want him to suffer the way I suffered. Losing my entire family to a war out of my control, gaining a new one only to lose it again."

Her golden eyes glisten in their depths as the scenes of her youth play in her mind. Haunting her about the many scenarios if things didn't go down the drain. The gun in her hand reminds me of a venomous snake waiting for the owner to unleash it on the world.

"But the same way Marcel healed was through the Lealtads. If you let them, I believe they could help you heal."

The hue of her eyes flickers as the fight for good and evil overcomes her. The woman she wants to be and the one they made her to argue for dominance, and the fight reminds me of all the times I've watched traitors beg for their lives that hang in Sam's hands.

Not every fight between one's soul wins with reason

My words pass through her ears and force her to shut her eyes and commit her entire being to think over her choices, while I thought over mine.

There was no way Marci would reach the gate in time to escape a bullet, training or not. I have to fight this woman tooth and nail if mind fuckery didn't work.

I shift my head towards Marci while keeping my gaze pinned on Valentia. Turning my back on her is a mistake I can't afford to make again.

"Marci, I will explain everything. Just cooperate with me and follow my lead."

I don't give her a chance to reply as I turn my attention back to Valentiá.

The woman is smarter than I give her credit for because she sees through my plan and says, "Last time you and I met, I left you in a crumbling heap on the ground. What makes you think you will leave here alive, let alone with Marci?"

She got into my head last time; like a Siren singing her tune to lonely sailors on stormy waters. I tighten my jaw and weigh out my options.

Marci must leave alive, and this woman fights dirty. I wouldn't put it past her to not play mind games with the girl behind me. If having emotions has taught me one thing, is that they are the biggest weakness in this cruel world.

"What's it going to take?" I decide to let her pick the terms of the deal.

She taps the gun on her chin. "I want Kasie, Joey and Megan."

This is not part of the plan.

"If I take you to them, you will leave the Wellingtons alone, especially Marci."

She tilts her head and chuckles. "Now, where's the fun in that? Danny, I believe that suffering is something everybody should experience. Losing a loved one is a kind of suffering. One that I like to deliver."

She cocks her gun and aims it at me. "You are in no place to make demands, so step aside, or I'll blow your brains out with hers."

There's this feeling we all get when we're about to die. For most, it's the flashing of their lives, but for me, it's the unspoken words that play in my mind. I have one too many secrets to uncover to go down this way. I'd rather die by the hand of Sam than allow this woman to take my life.

I can't allow Marci to die, either. She was never to be in the middle of all of this, and it will only worsen as she grows older. Her father's enemies will come after her once word reaches home about the missing Wellington spawn.

Food poisoning, my ass.

I inhale and make my decision. Turning my head slightly to Marci, I speak. "Marci, no matter what happens tonight, I need you to go back to the penthouse and stay with Peyton. Stick with her till your dad comes to get you. Am I clear?"

"Aww, isn't that cute? You think she'll make it out of here alive?" Valentiá mocks us.

I square my shoulders and prepare myself for what might be my last fight. Her golden orbs twinkle as her fingers press down on the trigger.

The exact moment she releases the bullet, a metal boomerang knocks the gun out of her hand and carries it away.

I push Marci in the opposite direction as I launch myself to her whilst ignoring the pain in my rib cage.

We fall to the floor. I waste no time restraining her hands with one arm, and my feet hold hers in place. She glares at me and spits in my eyes. The move doesn't have the effect she wants, so she digs her nails into my wrist and headbutts me.

The weight of the impact has me doubting the bones in her head because I'm forced to release her hands and cradle my nose.

She bucks her hips upward and lands two punches into my jaw before freeing her legs from my grasp. Crawling away from me, she goes for her gun, but an unknown figure joins the fight.

The small guy kicks the gun away from her while she stands up and goes for his ribcage. He blocks her moves and lands a hit on her stomach. Valentia doubles over, but that doesn't stop him. He kicks her knees, making her drop to the floor, and grips her hair.

She struggles against his hold, but he steps on the back of her knees. Reaching for her hair, he grabs it and twists it, eliciting a cry of pain from the Nurse. Reaching for his wrists, she digs her nails to draw blood and free herself. Terry doesn't flinch as he pulls her hair, and blood drips down from his wrists and mixes with the one on her scalp.

The moon illuminates the growing evil smile on his face as he drags her hair harder and punches her in the face. I try to move, but the pain in my ribs screams in disapproval.

I knew I wanted to stop her, but not with this amount of violence, especially when a minor is in the vicinity.

"Enough!"

The words in my mind are out, but not from my mouth.

We stop our movements and turn to a shaky Marci. Her face glistens with tears, and her movements are uncoordinated as she takes in the scene before her. The gun in her hands shakes as she gulps and points the gun towards Terry.

I say to her, "Marci, I need you to calm down and drop the gun."

It's one thing to be an emotional train wreck from family issues, and it's another thing to take someone's life. With the proper knowledge and training, Marci wouldn't be guilt-ridden after she pulls the trigger. But she isn't, and that wasn't even my biggest mistake for the night.

Time slows down as she looks from me to her aunt and to the man holding her aunt's hair. The reality of the situation dawned on her, and a fresh set of tears drop from her eyes.

Her eyes harden at his grip. "Terry, let go of her hair."

He flashes her a white smile. "If I do that, then you'll let go of your life."

You can't protect the person trying to kill you.

He tightens his grip and tugs for good measure, making the nurse cry out in agony. Marci flinches at the sound, but her grip on the gun remains.

"Marci, he's hurting me." Valentia coughs up blood and hunches as far as she can go. She reaches for Marci with tears in her eyes. "Help me."

When you watch a loved one get hurt and are powerless to help them, it creates a new form of trauma. A kind of trauma that shocks Marci to her core as she absorbs everything like a greedy little sponge. Even though the woman wants to kill her, Marci can't help her actions to save the woman.

Is it just me, but does Marci share more qualities with the Griffins than a Wellington?

The scene reminds me of when Sam made Penny, and I watch him torture the French Spy. They may be from two different worlds, but Marci will repeat Peyton's actions and who's saying she wouldn't do it worse than the former?

Terry scoffs, "Save your bullshit for the next nigga. Not today, woman, so not today. Get on your feet and slice your throat with your own hands."

He goes on with his threats, ignoring the crying girl caught in the middle of it all.

Marci continues to shake as the tears pour down her face like a broken faucet. She gulps and aims the gun at Terry.

"Let her go." She drawls.

He pauses his mouthing to turn to her and laugh. The sounds echo through the quiet night, but it does nothing but add fear down Marci's veins.

"I should let the woman who wants your whole family dead go? I know common sense doesn't kick in for everybody at the same rate, kid, but you should know that if I loosen my grip by just a fraction, she will kill you. And there's no going back after that."

I join the conversation with a sigh. "He's right, Marci. She's the reason Peyton and I came to the Bahamas."

She turns to me with liquid chocolate eyes fuelled with rage. "Family doesn't kill each other."

Valentiá laughs. "Marci, do you know who your family is? And more importantly, do you know who your father was?"

"Valentiá-"

She cuts me off. "Your father has killed many people, and some were his family members. Now if your dear old dad can kill his cousins, what stops me from killing you?"

Those were her last words.

No one knew that the golden-eyed war survivor was stronger than the fight she put on for all of us.

She took a knife from her boot and sliced the hair attached to Terry's hand off her head. Before Terry could stop her, she stabbed his calf with the knife and twisted it.

Terry's face contoured with pain as he reached for his wound, while Valentia darted upwards and made a beeline for Marci.

The gun wound on my chest ached as I threw myself onto her path, trying to prevent the inevitable. She tries to punch on my open sore, but I block it and land a punch on her head.

She gives me a bloody smile and spits out a tooth before ducking and swiping her legs towards mine. I jump and use what's left of her hair to throw her away from Marci.

Valentiá flips in time to dodge another metal boomerang. The boomerang slices through the air and returns to Terry's hands.

She rolls her eyes and looks from me to Marci, calculating her next move. My breath stills with her next course of action.

The Nurse brings out a wooden flute from behind their back and shoots tranquillizers at Terry and me.

The numbness seeps into my veins the moment the needle breaks my skin. The poison rushes through my body like a snake in their element, going from organ to organ, looking for how to shut my system down. I cry in agony and fall to the ground.

The second dart lands in Terry's calf, and he groans in agony and tries in vain to pull the knife and the dart out simultaneously.

Valentiá grins, satisfied with her work and turns her attention to focus solely on Marci.

She flips her hair-or what's left of it- behind her ears and walks towards Marci. Her steps are calm and calculated as she approaches the scared teenager.

"Be a dear and drop the gun," Valentiá tells Marci with a flick of her head.

Marci shakes her head sideways with a terrified expression. "No."

Valentiá frowns at the disobedience of her niece, "If you do as I say, I promise you only a spanking."

"Aunt Valentiá, I want answers. Why are you doing this?"

Valentiá tuts and walks closer. "Did I teach you no manners?"

Marci frowns, points the gun at her aunt and takes a step back. "Don't come any closer. I'll shoot."

Penny ran into her grandmother's arms for comfort, but Marci did the opposite. She didn't have a choice.

"When you were younger, you always had this spunk in you. You'd display all the sassiness in the world like your mother. And I wish I had killed you while you were still in the womb. It would have saved me all the hassle." Valentiá shrugs, "Left for me. I'd have killed you the moment I saw Danny enter the park, but I wanted to make your death memorable."

Every soldier has a role on the battlefield. Some are better off with firearms, while others have a way of words. A weapon will kill you from the outside, but words can cut deeper than any knife or bullet. And when planned properly, they can kill even the strongest of men.

"I don't know what illusion you have of family, but you ought to wake up, hmm." Valentiá pouts. "Family is the weakest form of self-preservation. They can turn on you at a moment's notice. I'd advise you to rethink your view on it, but you're not going to stick around long enough to dwell on it."

Valentiá launches at Marci and wraps her hands around Marci's throat.

The scene has me forcing my body to cooperate with me, but it refuses to bulge. I look to Terry for help, but the man struggles in vain to clean his wound and prevent the poison from spreading. My lips mumble a small prayer of their own accord.

I wasn't in for surprises this evening, but I'll take anything as long as Marci leaves past tonight.

Marci struggles against the woman until she does what I didn't have the balls to do in the hospital.

She pulls the trigger.

The Owl graces us with a hoot as Valentia exchanges words with Marci one last time before landing on her in a lifeless heap.

Marci lies on the floor, still as her actions slowly register in her head.

Killing people is one thing, but killing someone you considered family is another ball game.

Terry finally removes the knife and dart from his calf with a sigh and walks toward me. He offers me a sharp look before scoffing and dropps down to his knees. He brings out a small bottle and a piece of wood.

He holds out the wood to me while rolling up his sleeves. "Bite down on this."

I eye him but allow him to put the wood between my teeth. He pours the alcohol onto my gun wound and uses the knife to dig out the bullet. It must have been deep within my muscles, or he was purposely using the knife to scrape my flesh.

I groan as he drags the sharp bullet out of my body and pours more alcohol into the wound. He props my neck upward to pour a bitter substance down my throat.

"That should help you recover from the paralysis on time." He says before walking over to Marci.

He sighs and removes Valentiá's corpse from Marci. Helping the teenager up, he hugs her to his chest, and the girl bursts into a fresh round of tears.

I broke my deal with Dinah. I couldn't protect her daughter from her husband's past, not when his past might be my future.

While Marci cries into Terry's chest, he walks her over to the swing set and makes her sit on it. They have a one-sided conversation and I can't make out the words from my place on the ground. I focus on regaining the feeling in my system while staring into the empty eyes of Valentiá.

Even dead, her eyes still glow with the moon. I hate to admit it, but Valentia was a victim, just like the rest of us. Dragged into a world she knew nothing about, they forced her to survive while losing herself and family members. The thought of how she would have been if she didn't meet people like Joey and Kasie made me frown.

This only reinforces my resolve to protect Charlie from Mr Li's past, Penny from the Empire, and Lola from herself. It shows me why I need to uncover all the secrets kept from me so I can stop more bloodshed from innocent people....or what's left of their innocence.

Seems like a family meeting between father, mother and son is needed.

After they finish their conversation, Marci stands from the swing and bolts out of the playground.

Now she listens.

Terry kicks rocks away from his path as he approaches me.

"How come you weren't affected by the poison?" I ask.

"Because I have a high tolerance to toxins." He tells me before lighting up a cigarette and inhaling it. He lets out a puff of smoke before speaking.

"You and I have a mutual friend who made me promise to keep two of you alive. Apologies. My anger gets to me from time to time, and I couldn't resist the urge to beat the shit out of Valentia. The woman has pissed me off one too many times." He answers and examines the blood on the knife.

"Where I'm from, if a person saves your life, you owe them a debt that can't be repaid." He pauses and helps me up. "You and I must talk before you leave."

I nod in agreement. He helps me up and leads me to the swing set. He holds up a cigarette stick towards me, but I shake my head. I believe a clear head is needed for this conversation.

He shrugs, flicks it to the ground and says, "I told Marci to head straight to her parents with Shane who was waiting for her outside the playground."

"Thanks for helping us," I say.

"I know you want to know the connection between Taryn and Charlie. Charlie is my cousin, while Taryn is my twin, and we are from Africa. Our elders need us home for a family business. If we don't show up, they will come here and take us back by force. The trouble that follows them isn't something you need. I'm telling you this to convince your girlfriend to come home."

"So, Charlie needs to go home."

The motor neurones on my neck kick into action, and I lift my neck to observe Terry up close. Sweat and blood matt his hair and dust covers his clothes as he looks around the abadoned playground.

They have not known me for trusting people at first glance, especially if they miraculously come at the right time.

Who's saying Terry isn't playing an angle?

"I'll talk to her only if you allow me to leave with Valentiá's body and you ensure Marci doesn't come here again."

"Deal."