I’d pleaded with the doctors to let me see her, but she’d left strict orders not let anyone into her room.
After three days, I finally went home to shower, and by the time I returned, Race was gone.
I called and I texted.
I even left messages at her work, but she hadn’t reached out to me.
I sulked for the first week, got pissed by week two, and by the time week three rolled around, I could barely eat.
The only thing that made me get out of bed each morning was my job. The guys were great to me, constantly reassuring me that she’d come back.
I jumped when my phone rang. “Hello?” I said, feeling butterflies in my stomach.
“Yo. Where the fuck are ya, cousin?” Mike asked as he chewed something.
I sighed, feeling a knot form where the butterflies just were. “I’m not in the mood today, Mike.”
“Dude, your ma said you better get your ass over here or she’s coming to get you.” He covered the phone with his hand. “I told him,” he said.
“Tell Ma I’ll see her another day. I’m just not into family time.” I stretched out on the couch, barely able to keep my eyes open.
“Oh shit,” he blurted. “Now, my ma said she’s coming with her. Expect company, man.”
I cleared my throat, throwing my arm over my face to block the sun out. “Tell them to stay there. I’ll be there next week.”
“He said next week, Auntie Fran.” He paused. “Yeah, I’ll tell him. Your ma just said she ain’t taking no for an answer. You were warned,” he said, and then the call disconnected.
I sighed, dropping the phone next to my head onto the couch.
I wanted to be alone.
The only person in the world I wanted to see was Race.
I pictured her smiling face, the smell of her skin, and felt the warmth of my fingers gliding across her flesh as I dozed off, losing myself in her.
I closed my eyes, wanting to dream for the first time since I’d been released from active duty. She came to me in sleep. I’d sleep my life away if it meant seeing her.
Chapter Thirty
Fran DeLuca
Race
The cutsabove my breasts were mostly healed, but they’d never go away.
I ran my fingers along them, feeling the difference in the skin.
I grimaced, hating how they looked.
The skin was pinker and there was a glossy sheen where she’d cut me.
I couldn’t let him see me like this.
He’d called twice today and texted me three times.
No matter how many times he tried, I just couldn’t answer the phone.
I wanted to hear his voice.
