Mare Moody - [blank]

"Your son?" Kane asks. He chuckles lightly. "That would explain the blue eyes."

"Where is he." Noah screams. Noah pushes his elbow into Kane's chest and with his newly freed hand, digs in his pocket. He pulls out a knife.

"Remember this?" Noah growls at Kane. He takes the knife and hold it against Kane's throat.

"Now, tell me where my son is or I swear to God I will slit your throat."

Kane's smile falters slightly. He puts his hands up to signify that he has surrendered. This isn't a good sign. I have known this man for seven years and I know for a fact that he has never surrendered.

"Alright, I'll tell you." Kane puts one of his hands down and grabs the gun out of his pocket. He pushes the barrel against Noah's head.

"No!" I scream. Noah may be able to survive a knife wound to the leg but not a gunshot to the head.

"One for one?" Kane laughs.

I stand mortified as I watch Joseph's potential fathers in a fight to the death. He may never know his real father—whoever that might be.

Noah gets off of him and stands up. He throws down the knife and holds his hands up. He knows that the gun will win over the knife any day. Kane gets up and keeps the barrel pointed at Noah in his right hand. I feel my anger swell up and the fire enter my palm. With all of the strength I can muster, I slap Kane's arm right arm. He hits the trigger just as the barrell points to his left leg. He falls to the ground, a large bullet hole in his calf. Blood flows out of it like a river. He screams and clutches the bullet wound. Noah bends down and gets close to Kane's face.

"Tell me where my son is." Noah demands.

"I'll never tell you, he deserves to die," Kane says maniacally. "Just like his whore mother."

The anger rises in Noah and nothing can stop him now. He lifts his bad leg and stomps down on Kane's face. Kane calls out in pain.

"TELL ME." Noah demands.

Kane spits on the floor while making direct eye contact with Noah.

Noah grabs the gun that laid on the floor. He points it directly at Kane's temple. Kane turns his head and looks at me in the eyes. His deep brown eyes reflect seven years of memories.

"Marry me," he says in a soft, eager tone.

Before I can reply, Noah pulls the trigger and sends the bullet straight through his head. I scream as I watch his face bend and flex to the impact. His eyes bulge out of his skull and his head falls limp on the floor. The white wall behind him painted in brains. I scream, my ears ring and I look down at my white shirt which now has the same pattern as the wall. The unearthly smell of blood fills room.

A huge wound has cut the top of his head nearly straight off. Nausea builds in my system and my eyes grow dark spots. I can feel myself screaming but I can't hear it. All of my panic is offset when I hear a baby screaming from the next room. My maternal instinct goes into full overdrive.

I get up and run towards Joseph's screams. My eyes are still splotched with dark circles but I need to find my son. I see a bedroom in an adjacent hallway. I run through and throw open the door. Joseph lies on the floor, completely naked except for a diaper barely attached to him. He is screaming and clenching his muscles. An empty bottle lies next to him. I pick him up and try to shush him. His diaper is completely full. I hold him against me. Tears run down my face as I shake him back and forth, trying to calm his screams.

Noah runs in, shaking. His face relaxes when he sees his son.

"Joseph!" He calls out. His tone is so hopeful and relieved. He walks over and kisses the baby firmly on the head. "Daddy's here."

The banging on the door stops and I hear the door break through. Noah bolts out of the hallway with me on his heels. He frankly moves to the back of the apartment, trying to find a back exit. Finally, in the set back kitchen, a door is carved out to the side of the pantry. He flings it open to reveal the outside air. A large wooden staircase traces down the side of the building. He starts to run down it. I follow him and shut the door behind me. We sprint down the stairs, depending on adrenaline alone.

At the bottom of the stairs we hit grass. Noah keeps running with me behind him, holding Joseph who has not stop screaming. We walk across the back alley of the bar until hit the next alley. Noah runs down and onto the sidewalk. A taxi sits on the curb, available. Noah and I bolt in and shut the door.

"Newton!" Noah screams.

The cab driver looks back and is mortified. Her eyes trace over our bloodied clothing and screaming baby.

"Get out." She demands.

"Please!" I beg her.

She looks at me with shock and disgust.

Noah grabs out his wallet and pulls all of the bill out. The stack is so enormous that I can't even estimate how much he holds. He hands it to the cabbie.

"Newton. Now," he says firmly.

"Ok," she concedes, takes the stack of money and hits the gas pedal.

We walk through the apartment door. I hold Joseph in my arms. He has already seen more than he should have in his lifetime. His blue eyes are progressively getting more brown by the day. Kane's comment is searing into my brain. I wish I knew if he was Noah's or Kane's. I need reassurance.

But at same time, something in me hopes that it neither of theirs. I cling to my son and watch Noah in our bedroom. The door is open and I can see him slowly pulling off his blooded shirt. I see his back flex and his biceps bulge. I fell so in love with those. His sandy blonde hair reflects in the sunlight from our wide bay window. My heart aches.

He murdered a man. How can I justify that with love? I let Kane drag me around and now my heart is broken because he is dead. Kane is dead. I don't even know how to let that flow through my mind. It doesn't connect. I still love him. I hate to admit it but he was mine for seven years and only my enemy for a year and a half. I don't think I will ever truly be over him. God. Why can't I let go of him.

I take our son and put him on the changing table. He at least tried to take care of him. He obviously didn't have the means but he tried. I know he wanted Joseph to be our son as much as Noah. This tug of war may no longer be physical but it will forever remain internally.

I quickly change Joseph's diaper and dress him in a soft onesie. The cotton fits perfectly over his chubby arms and legs. The rubby ducky's on the outfit bring out his brown hair. He is happy now that I have taken care of him. His cries have been silenced. I swaddle him in a brown blanket. He is my little diamond.

Noah walks out of the room with a towel around him.

"I'm getting in the shower," He says. He walks over to me and smiles down at the little baby.

I look at his face. He beams with happiness after just killing a man. How can someone make a full 180 like that? I grow worried. It reflects the same pattern that Kane developed. Will he start to abuse me? Will I have this happen to me all over again?

He looks up and smiles at me. I think he can see the worry in my eyes.

"I love you," He says smoothly. He walks out of the room and towards the bathroom. I walk him as he walks. Bits of blood as still stuck in his hair. I can't let this happen again.

When I hear the bathroom door close, I grab my diaper bag and walk over to his closet. I grab all of his clothing, pacifiers and bottles. When my diaper is stuffed full, I put my wrap on. I pick Joseph up gently and place him in it. He fits snuggly against my body. I sling the diaper bag around my shoulder and walk into the bedroom. I go the closet and see my old backpack sitting, looking at me.

I always run because running is the easiest thing to do.

I grab it and start to putting clothing into it. I try to fit as much as possible. Tabitha gave me a huge amount and I don't want to lose any of her items. When my backpack is full, I sling it over my other shoulder and walk out. I walk to the front room and look around. I thought I had figured out my life and now I am starting over yet again. I will never win. This is my constant struggle.