The Deck's Ace

Part oneChapter Seven: Ties That Bind

“Let me guess, there is something wrong with the Ace.”

”Yes madam, have you already been informed?”

“No, but you never call just to chat. What has happened?”

“She was flown to a Denver Hospital in critical condition. Shortly after, Joel Marshal chartered a plane for himself and one for a west coast brain surgeon, orthopedic surgeon, and an OBGYN.”

“What are the extent of her injuries?”

”That is unknown,”

“What do you mean ‘that is unknown’? Are you so mentally handicapped that you are telling me that you can’t get a simple injury report?”

“The storms are not allowing us to implement an operative, and we are not authorized to contact any working member of the project other than the Ace herself. Her family seems to have locked all of her records. We can only retrieve limited information. “

“You are incompetent. Call Luke Morris, he is in Aspen on assignment, inform him of the situation. I will also be flying to Denver as soon as possible, but that may be a few days.”

“Yes Madame.”

“I want this situation contained before information is leaked to other members of the project.”

“Yes Madame.”

“’Yes Madame’ Is that all that you can say, you twit? Call Morris.”

“Of course, Madame.”

*click*


_____________________________________________________________


Torrance bit back scream as a nurse rubbed iodine into her open forehead. Her eyes were shut tight, as if the dark orange juice would somehow get into her eyes and then her brain, sanitizing any memories that she might have left. Of course it was more likely to seep through the giant hole in her head, but clamping her eyes shut somehow made it hurt less. Her right hand found the bedrail and latched on, squeezing the life out of the plastic coated steel.  There was a good possibility that she would damage the bed so much during her stay that the hospital would force her to buy it. 

Her overly cheery nurse must have derived some sick pleasure from preventing infection, because every time Torrance flinched or whimpered, her whistled tune became louder. She removed the excess antibacterial from Tori’s forehead and wrapped her head in a new bandage. “There, all done. See that wasn’t so bad, you just need to grow a little thicker skin.” She said is a merry manner.

Torrance matched her tone perfectly, “And you just need to loose forty pounds, you stupid bitch.”

The harsh words didn’t seem to effect the woman, as she patted Torrance on her healing shoulder and walked from the room. Rae, who was occupying herself with a magazine, smiled at her friend as she wiped the tears from her face. “And you get to do that every eight hours.”

“Yeah, can’t wait.”  Torrance growled, feeling the mix of iodine and her own juices soak into the bandage.

Rae snickered and put down her magazine to focus on her friend, “The doctors chewed me out for telling you about yourself so early. They wanted you to remember things on your own if you could.”

Torrance shrugged, “Eh, it happened, and I don’t think they understand that we are on a schedule.” Both girls laughed at that.

There was a knock at the door jam before Richard Dovolo poked his head inside, “Caio, il mio Angela.” He said. A thick accent flooded the Italian, his voice no longer holding the tone of a southern gentlemen. Instead he sounded like a sexy foreigner that college girls dreamed would whisk them away.

Torrance smiled and, recognizing the tongue immediately, replied, “Caio Papa,”

“At least you still remember your heritage.” Richard laughed as he walked onto the room. His face was red, worn from the weather, and there was a distinct circle around his eyes and nose.  He sat on the bed and pulled his daughter into a gentle hug, “You’re stronger than yesterday. How do you feel?” He asked, rubbing her back gently.

Torrance heard Rachel’s muffled scoff and took it into account. For some reason, the two didn’t get along, and Torrance needed to find out why. Was there something she was missing, or did the two have trivial issues?

The smell of Richards cologne, his strong arms, something about him made Torrance feel safe enough to relax. That was impressive for a girl who needed two security systems, a gun, and a zanex to feel secure enough to sleep through the night. 

She pulled back a little, realizing that she was burying her face into his chest. She laughed at her self and said, “I feel better than yesterday, at least now I know what’s going on. Where have you been today Dad?”

“I have been…educating your Ski Patrol.” Richard smiled. It was the same smile that Torrance had seen in her own reflection. In a weird sense it was validating, as if the horrible things she had done were sewn into her genetics. She wasn’t a bad person, it was her heritage. That smile made it easier for her to accept that she was not a monster, just another member of a powerful, almost Nietzschean family.

“Wish I could have seen it.” Torrance sighed. It was strange, everyone knew who she was, her reputation preceded her, but all she had were faint feelings from memories she didn’t have. The smell of her fathers cologne made her feel safe, the taste of Taco Bell made her feel almost prideful, as if she had accomplished something, but she didn’t know why. “Everyone has been telling me about who I was, am. Hell, I don’t know. It doesn’t all seem real.”

Richard tapped her IV line playfully, reminding her that it was there. Something about that pissed her off, but she ate it. He was only playing, probably didn’t consider her needle phobia. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. You are coming home with me as soon as we can get you out of this damn hospital.  I am sure that Cisco will be happy to see his mistress.” 

Who is Cisco? Oh right, the dog. Something about the way he said that, mistress, it was weird. It was almost sexual and a bit uncomfortable for Torrance. She tried to ignore the feeling that was building in her gut. It was like a low simmer that built in the back of her stomach, and traveled up her spine. The same feeling was pushing into her forehead. The heat was cool, as if she was being burned by a winter wind from the inside.

The room was suddenly very bright and clear. She could make out the individual eyelashes on Rae’s face from across the room. The smell of her fathers sweat under his cologne. The trickling lymph that soaked her forehead and her heart beating in her ears were all becoming more predominant by the minute. But Torrance ignored it. She was unwilling to let anyone know that there was something else wrong with her. 

“I have to go back to Banfoul. I can’t leave everyone.”  She said, trying to focus on her father. Maybe focus wasn’t the right word. She could focus on him very easily. The way his wolf grey eyes pulsated with his heartbeat, which she could see through the veins in his thick neck. His physical features were easy to watch, interpret, and analyze. The hard part was focusing on him as a person, not a target or a piece of meat.

Richard smiled, oblivious to his daughters mounting mental and emotional change, but there was a pity, almost sadness in his eyes. He rubbed his hand on her cheek and said, “You are in no condition to return to school, maybe next semester.”

Something in Tori’s head shifted. In her mind, Richard stopped being her father and started being a threat. She knew something was wrong, but she could not articulate it. There was no family, no politics involved, just a simple animalistic rage that was starting to crawl through her body. A small voice that must have been Tori’s cognitive thought said, this is why I hate this bastard.  That cognitive voice was the only thing dictating her actions, keeping her calm. It was like she were two separate entities acting as one. Her small voice was like a delicate master, planning the attack that her body would carry out without hesitation. There was no pity, no second thought, just the masters commands and the servant’s automatic reaction. Now this voice kept her body at bay, holding the rabid dog’s leash until the right moment.

Something about Richard made Torrance violent. She couldn’t put her finger on one reason or another, but something deep rooted in Torrance made her hate her father.  She sat up and pushed him away with her good hand arm. “Sorry Dad, I’m going back.”

The force almost pushed Richard off of the bed. He stood to catch himself from fallings and turned back to his daughter with a sneer. Evidently, Richard did not like to be opposed. His mood shifted, changing him from loving father to angry mafia enforcer. Perhaps his own internal reaction was similar to his daughters. But if that were true, then his Beast would be more in control than his Master. Richard was known to slip into a blood lust when even when slightly provoked. There had been several instances when Richard had murdered several people, only stopping when his body was exhausted or there was nothing left to determine his victims as human. 

He balled on hand into a fist and brought back the other as if to slap her. His eyes shifted into an ice blue as he shouted, “I am your father, and until you are an adult you will do what I say.”

Torrance’s own anger flared as that wild part of her liked a challenge. It shot adrenaline through her blood stream, tightening her muscles and giving her a boost of courage, and possibly stupidity.  She ignored the pain screaming through her shoulder and the machines as they gave off agitated warnings about her condition. With her mind suddenly so clear, the questions began to fill her head, flooding her thoughts. She wanted answers, and Richard was going to give them to her. She nearly ripped the IV from her arm as she yelled, “I don’t have to do shit. For some reason, I found it necessary to emancipate myself so that you couldn’t dictate my life. And seriously Dad, if you were so concerned about me, why would you send me to a boarding school in the first place. Fuck, then a military school?  How did Mom die? Huh? And why the fuck do you need me out of the way so badly?”

Richard took a step back and sighed, as if he were forcing himself to remain calm, “I sent you away to protect you.” Richard said, lowering his head. It was as if he didn’t look at her, didn’t have to meet his little girl’s eyes, his eyes, he could stay in control.

Rae scoffed again as she watched from her chair, her magazine now forgotten on the table. She had seen Torrance go into this spree to many times to not recognize it. Torrance was out for blood. She also knew how to deescalate the situation, but she kind of wanted to see Torrance finally confront Richard. 

It was easy to see where Torrance got her ruthlessness, hatred and anger from. Her father not only passed it down to her, but he seemed to be a catalyst for it. Rae hated Richard more than most, only because she saw what he really did to his daughter. Maybe things would have been different if Tori’s mom was still alive. But Rae suspected that Richard would have gotten tired of her like he did all of his other ventures.

“Bullshit.” Torrance sneered from her bed. She was about to go into another long list of questions and accusations, when she was cut off.

“You don’t talk to your father like that.” A young woman almost shrieked as she walked into the room. She was maybe old enough to drink, and wore white fur covered boots with a mini skirt and a long sleeves shirt with a white fur vest. She looked like she came from a winter Abercrombie and Fiche photo shoot, or couldn’t make up her mind weather she was hot or cold.  Her hair was unnaturally blond, close to perma fried. Her makeup was too thick, too bright, and all around too tacky. There was a distinct aroma that billowed from her like an invisible gas cloud, almost acridly sweet; meth. No, playboy bunny wannabe was too good for this one. This was just a better looking hooker who wasn’t showing the effects of her drug use yet.

Torrance raised an eyebrow, utterly shocked that someone this young and this obviously trashy would speak to her in such a way. “Who the fuck are you?” She yelled.

“I’m your step mother, young lady.” Bethanie yelled back, matching the tone.

Torrance forgot about her anger momentarily, as disbelief washed over her. Her beast looked back to its Master for some direction, but the Master was just as shocked. She turned to her father and asked, “Seriously?”

Richard nodded, and Rae shook her head. This was about to get real ugly, real quick. Rae’s hand was resting on her night stick. She wasn’t planning on attacking anyone, but she may have to use it to pry Torrance off of Bimbo Barbie.

Oh this is just too much. Tori’s rage flared again, allowing her to zero back in on her father, “I may have lost my mind, but I’m not a dumbass. Whenever Rachel makes a sound around you, it means that I am being fed a load of shit. Now, everything falls into place. You don’t want me around because you don’t want to remember Mom. You don’t want to remember you’re a Dad while your fucking Playboy bunny rejects,” Her head snapped to Bethanie, who was about to say something when Torrance cut her off, “Don’t say a word Crack Whore Barbie, I am not done with you.” Turning back to Richard, the youngest Dovolo laughed, “Oh my god, how could I be so stupid to believe that I might actually have parents that cared about me?”

Bethanie pushed her finger into Tori’s face, pursing her lips as if she were about to get into a getto fight with another street corner whore, “Your not even part of this family. Your mother-“ She was cut short by the sudden presence of Giovanni and Antonio Dovolo.

Giovanni, who was usually quiet and pleasant, stepped forward, slapping Bethanie across the face. The smack was hard enough to send her to the ground, and no one dared give her a hand up. The old mans voice was harsh, and for once, completely understandable, “She is more Dovolo than either of you. Richard, you have caused my granddaughter enough pain, take your whore and leave our sight, you will be dealt with later.”

Richards’s anger suddenly cooled. He knew better than to say anything against his father. Instead he bowed low, as if he were a beaten dog, begging his master for forgiveness. The gesture disgusted the Don. He swore in Italian and spit in his son’s face. If he were about ten years younger, and there were not ladies in the room, he would have kicked his sons face in. But any ill action by the Don Dovolo was usually a bad omen of things to come. Richard had finally gone too far, and he would not be able to make amends easily.

Richard looked up to his father, his eyes flashing the dangerous grey color that the Dovolos were known for. For a moment his anger burned, but then Richard ate that rage, pushed it into a deep dark place in his soul. This was remarkable, considering how many times lesser offenses had set him over the edge.  He wiped the mucus from his cheek and forehead and grabbed Bethanie, pulling her roughly to her feet.

Bethanie whimpered and looked to Richard for justice, but she wouldn’t get any today. If anything, Rich would be taking his anger out on her later. There would be a report in the tomorrow’s Denver Post about a street whore beaten and strangled to death and then left on her corner. She would be unidentifiable, and Richard would start looking for his next wife.

He dragged her, rather roughly, from the room and down the hall, towards the elevators.

Richard thought that Torrance’s memory loss would allow them to reconnect, give him a second chance. Her mother had been able to calm his rage, control him, comfort him in a way that no one else could. After she died, he searched for someone else that could give him what she did. He knew that in doing so, he sacrificed his daughter’s childhood, eventually pushing her away so that she could not see his hate. But she had developed his rage, his hurt and anger.  The small glimmer of her mother was smothered by the darkness of her father’s hate. His daughter may as well have died with her mother that Tuesday fourteen years ago. In his efforts to return them to a normal happy family, he had alienated his last connection to Susan Dovolo; their only child. Perhaps one day Torrance would find the one that would bare her anger and sooth it. Perhaps she already had. It really was for the best that they parted ways. Several years from now, they may be able to patch things between them, but for now the wound was to bare, too fresh. 

Torrance watched her father and his whore leave the room, but the rage didn’t leave with them. The Beast still wanted satisfaction, preferably in blood form. The master was too weak to control it, so it didn’t try. The Beast started searching for new victims in the room, someone weak to pick off.

Rae was now out of her chair. She knew that Torrance had been triggered and she needed to release her anger before she killed someone or had a heart attack. Usually there were only two ways to calm her Beast; sex or violence, and neither was readily available. But Rae was a veteran when it came to containing the Dovolo curse. She took the few step to Tori’s bedside and slipped in behind her. The ordeal with her father left Torrance sitting in the middle of the bed, straining against the cables from the machines and her IV. Rae scooted in, placing her legs on either side of her friend. She snaked one hand under Tori’s good arm and wrapped it around her chest, pulling them together. She nuzzled the hair off of Tori’s good shoulder and rested her head there.

While Tori saw everyone else in the room as either a threat or a victim, Rae was different. Even in her aggravated state, she saw Rae as an equal, a friend in the fight. She didn’t fight as Rae pulled her back, she didn’t resist the gentle kiss on the neck, or the calm whispering in her ear.

“Close your eyes, baby, and breath with me. There’s an animal inside of you, and I know  it’s easier to let it run loose then feel those emotions, but I need you back. ” Rae whispered just loud enough for Tori to hear. She rubbed her cheek against Tori’s neck and cheek, engulfing her senses. Rae knew that the more physical contact she had with Torrance, the easier it was to sooth the beast.

The light in the room dimmed, and Torrance found that she could no longer see like a hawk. Her vision had returned, but along with it the pain in her head, arm and shoulder. “It’s working.” She said, leaning back further into Rae.

Rae took her easily, tightening her grip over her chest. She felt Tori’s body shake as the beast started to recede and the effects of stress and trauma set in. “Good, push the Beast back down, and the master will follow. Now calm down. Feel my chest rise and fall with yours, relax your muscles. Breath with me.”

They inhaled and exhaled together until Tori could control the shaking and her own thoughts.

“Its gone.” Torrance, said, back to her normal self.  She hesitated, not sure if she should pull away from Rae or not, because she did like where she was, but she was afraid of making Rae feel akward. “What was that?” She asked.

Rae laughed and kissed her cheek, “The Dovolo Curse. I’ll explain later. Love you.”

Rae kept her arm around Torrance, not giving her a choice as to if she needed to move. But with her father and the curse now gone, Torrance was able to think about what was actually bothering her.

All she wanted was to be accepted, loved by her father, her family. She wanted the normal life that everyone but her seemed to have. What had she done that was so wrong? Why did she not deserve the things that everyone else was given.  Everyone here wanted her to be strong, brave, some hero. She couldn’t cry in front of them, she had shown too much weakness already.

Giovanni noted his granddaughters silent battle with herself and he smiled, sitting down on her bedside and taking her hand, “Torrance, I love you.” Giovanni said, and then chuckled, “But you are not like us. You are so much more than anything any other Dovolo will. I am deeply ashamed of your father for what he has done to you. You have been from us for so long, that we do not know you, and you no longer know us. It does not mean that you are any less Dovolo, No, you are what our ancestors envisioned when we came to this country. New Orleans is our kingdom, but the world, the world my child will be yours. You understand, little one?”  He looked up at Rae and smiled, “You see that girl, you take care of each other, and you will be fine. She does for you what your Mama did for your Papa. I see the curse in you, the old anger. But keep this one happy, and you will be fine.” His voice suddenly changed, his perfect English now gone, replaced with the broken mix of English and Italian. “You and your Uncle were named after your ancestor Don Torrance Antonio Dovolo; he made our familia in Na’lans. Your father, your brother, all they will ever be is another Don Dovolo. But you, you will be greater than any one imagined. Like our ancestor Caesar Augustus, you will make the world your Rome, yes? Come here my Angel, let your grandpapa give you a hug, I love you.”

“I love you too Grandpa.” Torrance said, leaning forward into the old mans arms. He was careful of her injured arm as he rubbed her back and cooed. Somehow his words made things better, the pressure in the back of her cheeks was gone. She could breath without the fear or sobbing or shedding a tear.

Joel, Logan, and Ryan, who had evidently been hovering at the door since Richard hauled his tramp away, finally made themselves known. Ryan let out a quiet polite cough, and everyone turned.

Tito smiled and ushered the boys in, “You have good friends, keep them close to your heart. Now get some rest. We will see you in the morning, I will make your aunt bring you some good food, none of this hospital crap.”

Giovanni and Antonio said their goodbyes and left as the nurse came in to inform everyone that visiting hours were almost over. As all of the friends were staying the night, they didn’t pay much attention.

“Well that was…anyone else hungry?” Torrance said, still recovering from the ordeal with her father. 

“Yeah, I think we all are. There’s a twenty four hour Mcdonald’s by the Taco Bell down town. You want to go with me Rae? I want to run an OR by you.” Joel asked, glancing back at the boys, who both nodded.

“Um, yeah sure. You okay, babe?” Rae asked. She wasn’t too keen about leaving Torrance, even for a few minutes, but truth be told, she hadn’t been out of the hospital for more than an hour in the past three days.

“Yeah I’m fine, you need to get out of this room almost as bad as I do. Just get me my usual.” Torrance smiled, pushing her friend to go. She was beginning to realize how close she and Rae actually were. Rae was the closest thing she had to family, to a sister, Rae understood her, and that was extremely comforting.

“Quarter pounder, no pickles, a coke and a hot fudge Sunday.” Joel chuckled. The confused and strange expressions of the group caused him to explain further, “It’s in her OR file.” It was true that Torrrance’s file alone took up twelve gigabytes of memory. Everything from her sleeping and eating habits, to her grades, psychological reports, older Over rides, networks, financial dealings, and her ID tracking logs were in that file.

“I think I may want to see that file.” Torrance said.

Joel shrugged, not seeing any real problem with showing Dovolo her file. He had shown it to her before when she asked. He unzipped his laptop bag and removed the computer. He flipped it open and turned it on before laying it on Toris lap, “Have fun.”

“We’ll be right back.” Rae laughed as she and Joel left the room. Rae waited until they were almost to the elevator before she spoke again, for fear that they would be overheard, “We need to buy her more time.”

“Don’t worry, we have a plan, I’ll tell you in the car.” Joel said as he hit the down button. The door opened almost immediately, but the two had to wait for a pair of paramedics with a stretcher to exit.  Rae swapped a smile with one, and momentarily entertained the idea of swapping phone numbers.  Joel saw this and rolled his eyes, pulling rae into the now vacant elevator.

“Do you have any cash?” Rae asked as the elevator doors closed.

Joel raised his eyebrow, who on earth used cash anymore? “No just plastic.”

“Me too, I hope they don’t card me, because I’m using Tori’s wallet.” Rae smiled.

Joel rolled his eyes, “She is going to be broke before she gets back to Banfoul.”

“Na, Tori will never be broke, Remember when we went to Manchester and Tori borrowed a twenty from you?” Rachel asked, watching the numbers in the elevator light up as they passed a particular floor.

Joel remembered. Last year during a school tournament hosted by Manchester, all of the schools ATMs and credit card machines went down. It was actually the ORs fault, but Tori took  the heat off of them. It had always been amazing to see her manipulate a crowd of angry people.

With the credit card machine down and Torrance out of cash, she turned to Joel for her monetary needs.  She borrowed twenty dollars, which was repaid the same night, at three A.M,  “Yeah and she came back later with a wad of cash and a black eye.”

“It was fighting money. She does it almost once a week, her trainer turned her on to it after she beat him. I have only been with her a few times, but she’s pretty good. She wins most of the time, and there is money in the bigger fights.”  Rea said, remembering when Luke and other members of the Deck took her to one of Tori’s fights.

The fight club was loud, dirty and gruesome. The tourniments were usually a series of eight to ten knock outs, with the main event being between the two remaining opponents that fought their way up the ladders. The final fight was usually a knock out fight, but the winner seemed to pull in more money if they killed their last opponent. The bloodier the better as far as the crowd was concerned. Torrance had made it through seven fights, but was knocked out on the last fight of the preliminaries. Still, her performance was impressive.

After watching her in the cages, Rae knew why Tori was so formidable in Banfoul. She wasn’t afraid to fight, to really fight with the understanding that she might kill. There were bullies at Banfoul, even a few black belts, but no one other than Torrance had killed someone with their bare hands. No one but Torrance knew what it was like to punch someone so hard and so many times that their skull cracked and their brain splattered on your knuckles.

Rae had killed before, committed murder, but she shot her marks, so it seemed less personal. It was easy to point and pull a trigger, almost automatic. But the knowledge and will that it took to take someone life with sheer force was not something that she could stomach.  In McMannis, Rae watched her friend murder the man that raped her.  Rae still remembered the sounds of the man screaming as Torrance broke his legs, and then drove a knife into his chest, tearing the blade down to his navel. She remembered the wet crack of his ribs as Tori violently parted them to get to his vital organs. His screams were cut off as Torrance held his throat, possibly so that she could have a handle, or maybe it was so he couldn’t breath. She clawed into his body, using her nails to rip open his thoartic sack, and then crushed his lungs and his heart one by one.  It was so horrific that Rae had dreams about it, more so than the sexual assault, for several months to come. Torrance seemed to be unphased by it, only saying that it was something that had to be done.

Joel sighed, “Like she doesn’t have enough ways to get cash.” Ever since he met her on the paintball field, he assumed that Dovolo was just another one of his pawns, but she had manipulated everyone to suite her purposes and they were none the wiser.