Authors note: Hello everyone. The last chapter was from the brother's point of view, and this chapter will be predominantly from the girl's point of view. As a warning, I am letting you know that the first part of this chapter overlaps with the last chapter but is from Marcella's POV and therefore will deviate from Noah's thoughts. I am as always grateful to David and Kate for being my second sets of eyes. I hope you continue to enjoy this series. ~ellie.
*****
There were very few times that the guards let the five of them interact together. They were the bad girls in the facility. Guarded day and night for crimes against their families as they were indoctrinated back into the way of life that made the Twelve Tables so successful. Each of them had been forced here against their will, but of the five, Marcella was the only one who didn't have to do time in the drying-out facility, before starting rehab. She didn't have a drug problem, even though she had been accused of it by her father and the family doctor, her uncle. He was the predator who preyed on her, ruthlessly. He was the reason for all her troubles now, and it had been his injection of the contraceptive rods into her arms, once he had moved beyond simple molestation to full penetration, that had sent her father off the deep end again, after keeping to his bargain for so long not to harm his family.
During her time at the Battaglia facility, Marcella had lived for the interaction with the other bad girls at meal times, when the guards gave them a little bit of space to talk like normal people. Not that they ever did talk like normal people. Nik was the leader of their little band of misfits, and she ruled them, even during these small times of relative freedom.
"I'm leaving soon," Nik whispered during one breakfast. "But first, I need help with a few things," she whispered. Then, with malicious glee, as she pointed out her arch enemy, a short, curvy woman sitting a few tables away, who she called the 'fat cow', she told them of her plans for the woman, without the details of when she would put her plan into action. Marcella had thought it was all just talk. They had no rights, no freedoms, no privacy in this place. There was no way that Nik could attack another woman and escape the facility.
"What happens when you escape?" one of the other older girls asked. "They'll track you down easy enough. Our last names ring bells everywhere." She rolled her eyes at the total lack of privacy that belonging to one of the twelve families afforded them.
"I have a whole new identity already in place, passport, money, credit cards... It's in a safe deposit box under that name, too. I just have to get to the bank, and abracadabra, Veronica Donati disappears, and I get to plot my revenge on the people who did this to me."
"Shit! Seriously?" another of the girls asked.
"I have access to the computer lab for school. I can set up email accounts for us all under assumed names. Then, when we get out, we can just change the passwords to claim them, and Nik can give us some tips on what we need to create a whole new life away from the prying eyes of these clowns," another said.
Marcella couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she wasn't about to let the opportunity pass her by. On the spot, she came up with a name, and for the following few days before Nik made her attempt at freedom, and all hell broke loose, she had fantasised about Stevie West, who she was and what she would do with her life, with the freedom that she craved so badly.
Stevie would be the free spirit that she had never been able to be. Stevie would grab every opportunity she came across and live her life to the fullest. Stevie would travel the world, seeking adventure and fun. Stevie would not get stuck protecting her mother and sisters or working hard to emancipate herself from the archaic laws that had put her here in the first place. It was a futile thing to try to do, and Stevie wouldn't bother. She would just pack a bag and disappear and let everyone else look after themselves, like she should have done a long time ago.
Except Marcella hadn't done that. Once created, and perfected to be a real living identity, Stevie had lived in a padlocked courier bag for the last four years. Now, however, because of that advice, when she needed Stevie the most, she could take on that identity and live that life she had created for herself. She could walk away from everything wrong in her world and never look back. Only she couldn't, not yet. Even as Stevie, Marcella had one last thing to accomplish for her sister. She'd already sent a message to Vinnie that she wanted to renegotiate terms, and she needed to make the rendezvous time with the second messenger. If she could find Hermione's and confirm Olivia's story, that would be great. But if she could also take down the Mistress, and maybe some of the other sadistic bastards who had frequented the place at the same time, then her work here would be done, and she could escape into a carefree life as Stevie. She wouldn't have to care about anyone but herself, and what adventure she wanted to go on next.
She looked at herself in the floor-to-ceiling, mirrored cupboards of her hotel room. Stevie definitely didn't care about corporate image or impressing people. She wore what she wanted. She showed off her scars with pride, instead of hiding them to avoid questions. Stevie also read trashy romance novels. She grinned and picked up the paperback that she'd purchased while doing a little shopping first thing this morning. Stretching out on the couch in the cool air-conditioning, she relaxed and sighed at having the freedom to do what she wanted when she wanted. The chlorine from her earlier swim had gotten to her and made her sleepy, however, and she was almost in a doze when the door to her room was flung open and she swung her head around to see the last person she had expected to be standing there.
"Hello Stevie," Noah grinned at her.
Breaking free from the lazy haze that had surrounded her, she made a break for the balcony door to escape from his condemnation for leaving the hospital when she had promised to stay. If he thought she would go with the Battaglia quietly, he could think again! He caught her in a few large strides and bound his arms around her, despite the fact that she was fighting against him with all her might. Her feet left the ground and she kicked back at him, but he might as well have been made of stone for all the reaction he had to her attempts to hurt him enough to drop her.
"Not even a hello, when I've gone to so much trouble to find you and make sure you're safe?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke in low, calm tones.
"Let me go, Noah!" she hissed, his arrogant, teasing tone infuriating her all the more despite his breath on her neck. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?" she spat, still struggling against him, albeit only a token gesture because she knew she couldn't win a physical battle against him.
