Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Icer
I just got back from dropping Elodie off at Riptide’s so Van can homeschool Elodie and so she doesn’t fall behind the peers of her grade level.
When we find her a full time tutor and bring her onboard, my princess won’t have to play catch up and struggle so much and be on even ground with her classmates.
I didn’t grab little G because he’s spending the day with Rip so we’re kid free for the next six hours. And I plan on taking advantage of it.
When I came in, I heard the shower running from the master suite so I ran and jumped into mine, hoping that today, Letti and I could catch up.
I love having my princess here, but I feel like she takes up most of my time dealing with the trauma from her old schoolmates which means I’ve neglected my woman.
As I pass by the master bedroom after the quickest shower I could manage in the guest bathroom, tossing on some comfortable, lounging clothes, I overhear her talking to herself, and what she says has my shoulders deflating.
“You are pretty, Letti. You’re smart, worthy, strong, and capable. Don’t let those who tried to take you down win. You’ve got this.”
I know that trauma. I’ve lived my own version of it.
I know why she’s giving herself a pep talk, but it still angers me.
We may not have been able to trace and locate her siblings, but we did manage to find the rest of her lowlife family members.
They’re a canker sore, a dredge on society that I plan on having removed.
As a matter of fact, Booker’s already got things in the works, and soon, they won’t have a pot to piss in let alone that shack they’ve been holing up in.
I will be the one to huff and puff and blow it down, just like the big, bad wolf in that kid’s fairytale story.
My woman will no longer have to fear them. I’ll be damned if she’s looking over her shoulders because she’s scared they’ll come up behind her. I may not be able to meet her emotional needs but I sure as fuck can eliminate her physical threats.
Walking down the hallway with purpose, I order us some lunch and text Booker for an update.
The sooner I can tell Letti her past has been eliminated the sooner she may be able to put her demons to rest. I know when I took out my dad it helped me tremendously.
I no longer had to sneak around and could walk through the clubhouse with my head held high.
That’s when my papa started passing down his knowledge and training so that I could take my rightful place in the Kings.
I may not be able to do that for my goddess, but I’ll be able to help her in other ways.
Ways that if the shoe was on the other foot would be miraculous to my frame of mind.
I wish others would’ve been able to do the things for me that I plan on doing for my woman.
Fuck knows it would’ve alleviated a lot of my stress and the way I used to either shut down or act out.
I’m nowhere near where I probably should be, but I can have actual conversations with others now, which is definitely an improvement.
I need some advice on how to show Letti that she’s beautiful, both on the inside and outside.
Her self-esteem has taken a brutal hit more than once and now she’s struggling to see her inner and outer self-shine.
I’m not sure my brothers could help me with this task so I put the phone to my ear, step out onto my back porch, and call Van.
I’m wholly convinced she’ll have an idea or two about how I can force my goddess’ hand and make her see herself the way we all do.
“Icer. Everything okay?”
“Why does everybody jump to the conclusion that something’s wrong when I phone them?” I ask her, hating it.
Every single time I place a call, that’s the greeting I receive—without fail.
“Maybe because you never call,” she reasons. “Not even when there’s an emergency, so surely, you can understand my concern.”
I contemplate that for a few seconds before answering, “Guess that’s true.”
“So what’s going on, Icer?”
“I need help,” I admit. “I’m at a loss here, Van. I have no idea what I’m doing and her therapist isn’t helping.”
I hear her sharply inhale. I’m not sure if it’s due to shock from what I’ve said or the fact that I specifically called her for help.
Either could be the likely source for her heavy breathing.
“Letti? I thought we found her the best of the best. Doesn’t she specialize in childhood trauma and sexual assault? ”
“She does,” I confirm. “And she’s good, I’m not saying she’s not. But it’s not helping Letti. She’s lagging in her recovery.” I repeat what I overheard her saying to herself so Van sees the seriousness of this situation. “It fucks with my head every time I hear her try to lift herself up, Van.”
“I don’t think she’s lagging, Icer. And it’s good that she’s working on herself by reminding herself, even if you don’t care for the way she does it, that it’s okay to be perfectly imperfect.
We all are and that’s the way it should be.
None of us are infallible or picture-perfect.
I think the problem is that in her formative years, she was belittled and abused in ways none of us can wrap our heads around.
Time, patience, and understanding are going to be her best friends during this time of recovery.
It won’t happen on her timeline or yours, no matter how quickly you two may want for it to.
I know this isn’t the answer you were wanting to hear, but it’s all I’ve got. ”
“It’s not what I wanted to hear, Van. I agree with you there but it is informative and insightful. Is there nothing I can do to help her see how stunningly beautiful she is?”
“Stunningly beautiful,” she whispers, repeating my words.
“Icer, you have such a radiant soul. Even if it’s contradictory to the way you present yourself.
I wish you’d periodically let others see this side of you.
It would definitely have jaws dropping and that’s a sight I’d love to be around to witness.
You’re good for her, just keep doing what you are and eventually, she’ll see herself the way you do. ”
“How’s Elodie doing today? She had a rough morning, bad dreams kept her up most of the night,” I relay.
“She told me, but she also said that they’re not as bad as they used to be, so there’s that I suppose.
At least there’s a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel.
I’m not a violent person and I don’t believe in any sort of abuse no matter what form it’s issued, especially when it’s against kids because they’re all precious and should be protected, but I’d like to shove a bar of soap into their mouths and make them bite down on it and eat a suds sandwich.
And I’m struggling with that thought because it’s wrong on all platforms. It makes me sick to my stomach that I even had that thought. ”
I grunt but don’t say what’s running through my mind.
Like her, I’m a protector of kids but that doesn’t mean their parents couldn’t use a lesson or two in manners.
“I can understand and even relate to your thoughts, Van. Even if that makes me an asshole. But it’s not the kids at fault here even if they hurt my princess, it’s their parents’ influence and teachings that are steering them down the wrong path.
Those are the motherfuckers that are going to answer for their kids’ sins against our girl. That’s a goddamn guarantee.”
“I think these are the most words you’ve ever strung together when having a conversation with me, Icer.
I think I’ve gotten to know you more over the last five minutes than I have in all the months we’ve known each other.
I always knew you were a good man, but now, I admire you for the strength and devotion you have toward those you call family.
” I grunt again which has her laughing. “Still not a conversationalist, huh?”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t like to talk to hear the sound of my voice. When there’s something important to say, I say it, but otherwise, I’m not a fan of talking because there’s nothing better to do.”
“Listen, I have something you could try, but if you do, you need to tread carefully because it might backfire on you, Icer.”
“I’m all ears, Van. At this point, I’m willing to try anything. She’s worth the effort, even if it’s not something either of us are comfortable with.”
“Here’s my idea–” I listen, and even though it comes with a few risks, I think it’s something worth trying.
“Hey,” Letti says, greeting me as I step back into the house and find her in the kitchen, unbagging our food and putting it on paper plates.
Neither one of us are fans of doing the dishes so we still use throwaway utensils and plates whenever we order out, which seems to be more often than not because we both also hate cooking.
We’re capable in the kitchen but simply don’t care to stand over a stove.
I plant my hip on the counter, swipe my thumb over my bottom lip, and watch her to see how she’s doing behind that mask she wears nine-tenths of the time. Unlike others, I can see straight through it and I’m not liking what I’m seeing. Not one fucking bit.
She glances up at me as she dishes out the food and her face drops. “I’m okay, Viking. I promise, it’s just been a rough day so far.”
“Why?” I ask, leaning my upper body toward her so I’m in her face and she can’t ignore me. “What happened to put that look on your face, Letti?”
When she glances up at me, I see mist shining in her eyes. She’s holding back tears because she doesn’t want to seem weak. Again, I don’t like it. “I had a nightmare. A memory surfaced last night. One that I’d almost forgotten since I shoved it to the back of my mind.”
“Wanna share it with me, baby? I’m a good listener. I may not be any good at comforting you or giving you solid advice, but I’ll help you carry the weight of the burden so you can get it off your chest and release it.”
“I don’t, not really, but I will because I know it’s for the best. If I don’t, it may plague me for the remainder of the day,” she concedes.
I grab the loaded down plates in my hands that already has the dinnerware stuffed into the food, along with the ripped squares of napkins from the roll she placed underneath the plates to act as a placemat and nod my head toward the living room.
If she’s going to lay it out on the table and expose her demons, we may as well be somewhere comfortable.
She gives me a quivering smile before grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge and following me.
Once we set up the trays and I put our food down on them, I pull her into my arms where she buries her face in my chest. She sniffles and uses my shirt as a handkerchief, but I’m not squeamish unlike my brothers.
I remember that I’m washable and so are my clothes so I don’t let it gross me out like they would—the pussies.
“Do you want to talk about your dream or the event that took place to cause it?” I inquire.
“They coincide so I guess it doesn’t matter which one I begin with,” she admits. “My dream was an exact replica of that day’s events.”
“Take your time, beautiful. You don’t have to rush it out, absorb it if you need to before you tell me about it,” I suggest.
“I’ve been absorbing it for almost twenty years, Viking.
A few more minutes won’t make a lick of a difference.
I told you how my mother kept me but sold off my siblings.
What I haven’t told you is that I had a brother she kept.
God, she was fucking horrible to him. She treated him worse than me, if you can believe it.
She did horrible things to him, things you wouldn’t think a person was capable of doing.
The endless torture was way too much for his little body.
She killed him, and the way she did it was cold and heartless.
Since there was never any trace of his birth, he never saw the outside of the house, nobody knew to look for him.
It’s been her dirty secret for so many years.
I saw it all, I was there, holding him when he drew his last breath. It was my worst failure as his sister.”
“You didn’t fail him, baby girl, your mother did,” I insist. “She should’ve been spayed once she hit her birthing year.
But you’re not responsible for her, but with saying that, I firmly believe that those who helped her and supported her, are.
And if you ever believe anything I say, believe this, they will pay… every last one of them.”