Rodney was dead.
I’d paid my debt to society.
I deserved to live.
Thursday night reminded me of that. From sitting in that bar with two people I considered friends to the impromptu visit to the tattoo parlor, I was reminded that I wasn’t where I used to be. I thought it would have been harder to open up to anyone again, but Londyn made it easy, and Killian…well, Killian knew me when I was innocent.
I smiled to myself as I thought about him. He, too, had gotten a tattoo last night. Where I’d gotten mine on my arm, he added his to the chest piece he already had. When he took his shirt off, I had to look away. I felt almost ashamed to see him without it. It wasn’t just the fact that I’d only ever seen him clothed, but I felt an attraction that I hadn’t even fathomed to be possible.
Rodney had successfully turned me off from guys, but Killian wasn’t just any guy. He’d always been so nice and sweet to me. I felt safe with him around. Days that he came over to study, I took comfort in knowing that I wouldn’t be touched while he was there. By the time he left, Kennedy would be home from work, and those were the nights Rodney left me alone.
Rodney hated when he came over.
He would find every reason to come into the kitchen where we studied. He put on an award-winning act in Killian’s presence, but from afar, he glared at me with threatening eyes. He silently dared me to let him touch me, and I never did…he never did. That’s why Killian admitting he had a crush on me threw me for a loop. All that time, I just assumed that he was being nice.
I guess I was wrong.
I shook the thoughts from my head as I finished up my morning journaling and prepared to start my day. Today I had a meeting with my parole officer, Ms. Vera. We were set to meet every other week until she felt like she could trust me fully. She said once I showed good behavior and progress, she would recommend it be dropped to once a month. She was a nice older woman who didn’t do too much. I’d heard horror stories from my bunkies about their parole officers being the bane of their existence. Thankfully, she wasn’t like that.
I got up and showered then dressed in a pair of jeans, a graphic tee, and a pair of sneakers. After packing my crossbody with my essentials, I left my bedroom and went into the kitchen. Aunt Penny and Uncle Clive were sipping their morning coffee. I greeted them both with hugs and kisses to the cheek.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning, baby girl.” Uncle Clive eyed me. “You look like you’re in a good mood.”
“Must have been that late night she had,” Aunt Penny said, smirking.
I giggled. “I was in before my curfew.”
“Yeah, but you never stay out late. You and Londyn must have had a good time.”
“It was fun. We ran into Killian, and somehow, he and I ended up at a tattoo parlor—”
“You got a tattoo,” my aunt exclaimed.
I held out my arm for them to see. She smiled as she ran her fingers over it.
“It’s befitting. I’m glad to see you finding yourself.” She gave me a slight side eye. “Killian, huh?”
“We’re just friends, Auntie.”
She held up her hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say anything. It’s good you rekindled a friendship and made a new friend.”
Uncle Clive chuckled. “Londyn didn’t really give her a choice.”
“She didn’t, but it’s okay. I think she’ll be a loyal friend.”
“I know she will. Anyway, I meant to ask if you needed a ride to your parole officer.”
“No, sir. I’ll take the bus and just walk from there. It’s not too far.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive. I’m heading out. I don’t wanna be late. Love you guys.”
“We love you too, baby,” they both said.
I kissed them goodbye and left the house to make my way to the bus stop. It was loading as I approached. After swiping my bus pass, I settled into a seat in the back. The bus pulled off shortly after.
