The tears in my eyes stung so bad as I tried to hold them back. It was no use. Before I could stop it, I was in full-blown tears. My knees weakened, failing to hold me up as I fell to the floor and cried. All I wanted was to see two of the four people who’d ever really loved me. I wanted to hold them and hug them and tell them how much I thought of them every single day for the last ten years.
I wanted to tell them how sorry I was that I’d committed such a vile act while they were present—that I’d done it to protect them from suffering the same fate I did. I accepted what I’d done, but I was a victim. If I hadn’t done something, Rodney would have preyed on me until I was no longer desirable to him. If it wasn’t me, there would have been some other helpless little girl, and I’d be damned if it had been my sisters.
“Come on, baby,” Uncle Clive said, helping me to my feet. “Let’s get you to your room. Maybe you should lie down for a bit. Today has been a lot. You get some rest and then come eat dinner with us.”
I allowed him to lead me down the hall. We came upon the bedroom I’d slept in as a child. When he opened the door, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they had completely transformed it with new furniture fit for a woman of twenty-eight. There was a black queen-sized bed with matching nightstands and a dresser. The bedding held a pretty black, white, and gold pattern.
The white walls had a few pictures with positive affirmations on them. In one corner of the room was an oversized white papasan chair. In the other was a black desk and bookshelf combo. The bookshelf was filled with all kinds of books I couldn’t wait to read. I smiled, remembering telling my aunt about all the time I spent in the prison library. I’d always loved reading, but prison only deepened that love.
“Do you like it?” Aunt Penny asked.
“I love it.” I turned to face them. “Thank you. I love you both so much.”
I went into their arms, the one place I’d always felt safe. If I had to start over with anybody at my side, I was forever grateful that it was them.
Chapter 6
Killian
“Remind me again why Pops couldn’t come to the grocery store with you,” I said to my mother.
It was Sunday, which meant we were having Sunday dinner. It wasn’t unlike my mother to wait until the last minute to come to the butcher’s section to grab whatever meat she planned to cook for the day. She claimed she liked to get it fresh so it would be at its best.
“You want to eat, don’t you?” she sassed me.
“I’m just asking, woman.”
“Mmm-hmm.Well don’t ask. If you must know, your father went by the nursing home to see your grandparents.”
“And Bridget?”
My mother stopped walking and placed her hand on her hip. “You got something better to do, son?”
“Nah, I don’t.”
“Good.” She dug into her purse and shoved a piece of paper into my hand. “Go get the things on this list and meet me at the butcher’s.”
I sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
She patted my face before walking off. Looking down, I saw that the list was a mile long. Shaking my head, I grabbed a cart and started walking up and down the aisles, collecting the items on the list. I turned down the baking aisle and stopped in my tracks. There stood Alayah with her aunt. They spoke softly for a moment, before her aunt walked off and went down another aisle. Alayah busied herself with examining something on the shelf.
She looked so beautiful with a fresh face. She wore a simple pink maxi dress that hugged her curves and a pair of sandals. Her mass of curls was wild and free. I stood still, contemplating if I should say anything. She hadn’t seen me, so it would be easy to back off the aisle and come back later. Apparently, that thought didn’t register to my feet as they started moving in her direction. They had a mind of their own as I moved around the cart to stand next to her.
“Alayah…” I said softly.
She turned to face me, a stoic expression on her face. “Killian.”
“It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re home.”
“Yeah… Me, too.”
She turned back to the items she was previously looking at. That should have been my cue to walk away, but I stood there awkwardly, still talking.
“Um…how has it been?” I asked.
“It’s not prison.”
“Right. Well, are you adjusting? Do you need anything?”
