CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE #2
And Tracy, because she was my mother’s caregiver and managed the other Petals who help take care of my mom. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second as I decided which code to use.
Code Petunia.
Petunias were beautiful flowers. Unfortunately, they also symbolized conflict and emotional strain. The moment my team saw those words, they'd understand that nothing had happened yet, but something serious was unfolding. I quickly typed my message.
BLOSSOM: CODE PETUNIA. Meet me at my cottage. You three know the passcode to the gate. Come on in. We need to meet and discuss our current predicament.
I hit send and waited. Kelly’s reply came first.
KELLY: I'm on the way. CODE PETUNIA? I'm nervous. Are you okay, Blossy?
A second later, another message appeared.
DAYANA: On the way. Are you okay, chick? Can you call me?
Then Tracy chimed in.
TRACY: I'm heading that way now. I was already in the area, shopping. Should I come in ready to kill?
Despite everything weighing on my heart, I couldn't help but smile at their responses. I’d chosen CODE PETUNIA to lessen their worries. Yet look at them, worrying anyway. I quickly sent another message.
BLOSSOM: I'm safe. I'm alone. There is no immediate threat. Kelly, don't be nervous. I just want us to prepare for the worst. Nothing has happened yet. Dayana, we'll chat when you get here, chick. I'm okay. I promise. Tracy, nothing is going on, but I love how you stay ready.
After sending the message, I lowered the phone onto my lap and sat there for a moment. Knowing those three were already on their way made me feel a little better, a little less alone.
No matter what happened next, I wouldn't have to face it on my own. My gaze drifted down to the oversized t-shirt I'd thrown on after my shower. I should probably put on some real clothes before everyone got here.
Setting my phone on the bed, I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a black sports bra and a pair of black leggings. After changing into them, I grabbed an oversized black one-shoulder shirt and slipped it on.
The shirt dropped to mid-thigh on me, making it perfect for lounging around the cottage. Next, I headed into the bathroom. I combed my hair up into a high ponytail, secured it with a hair tie, then slipped my feet into my house shoes before leaving the bedroom.
The ladies were probably going to need a drink after hearing what I had to say. I headed into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I grabbed the Coke before reaching into the cabinet for the rum.
I lined up four glasses on the counter, filled them with ice, then poured each of us a drink, going heavy on the Coke since everyone still had to drive home afterward.
Once the drinks were ready, I arranged the glasses on a serving tray and carried them into the living room.
I set the tray down on the center table before picking up my own glass.
I took a long sip, enjoying the burn it left in its wake. I’d needed that. Glass still in hand, I sat down on the couch and waited. The cottage was quiet. Too quiet. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.
Most days, I loved the peace of living alone. These days, I missed my chats with Rome. Talking to him, even through messages, had relieved a little of the loneliness I hadn’t even realized I’d been experiencing.
Sighing, I took another sip of my drink, trying to take my mind off our past... situationship. No matter how hard I tried to keep him out, that man stayed on my mind. I hated that he'd become this constant presence inside my head.
About ten minutes later, my phone chimed. I leaned forward and picked it up from the center table. It was a security notification. Someone was entering my gate. Opening the camera feed, I zoomed in on the image.
A smile tugged at my lips. Kelly and Tracy had arrived at exactly the same time. I set my glass back onto the table, stood, and walked to the front door. After unlocking it, I pulled it open and remained there, watching the two women make their way up the walkway together.
The moment Kelly saw me in the doorway, her eyes lit up, and she hurried toward me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug when she reached me.
"I was worried," she admitted. "I know you said you were okay, but I needed to see it for myself."
I hugged her back.
"I'm fine," I told her.
When we pulled apart, my gaze drifted to her hair. She'd pulled it into a ponytail today, and two decorative Asian-style hair chopsticks held it in place.
"I see you're wearing your hair chopsticks," I said.
She only wore those when she was in fighting mode. Kelly smiled and pulled one free, showing it to me. The end of it was sharp as a knife.
"I've been wearing them more often," she admitted. "You know... just in case."
Her mom used to do the exact same thing. Kelly’s mom had been what some called Blasian. Half Black and half Asian. Her dad had been Caucasian. We’d lost them both years ago while they were out on a mission that went wrong.
Kelly had been a toddler at the time. After their deaths, my mother had wanted to take Kelly in and become her legal guardian since her mother hadn’t had a family. But her father’s parents had wanted to raise her.
Since Kelly’s parents hadn’t left behind a will, the court ruled in what they called the best interest of the child and gave custody to her grandparents. The court wasn’t always right. And family wasn’t always blood.
Her father’s side of the family had mistreated her in so many damn ways. They'd spent years treating her like she didn't belong in their world. They’d never wanted Kelly's father to marry her mother in the first place and had made sure Kelly knew exactly how they felt about that, too.
They’d called her hair unruly and kept it cut very short because they said it was unmanageable. They hadn’t come to her defense when kids teased her about her appearance and instead told her to toughen up.
We’d learned this from her when she ran away from there at fourteen and found her way back to us. She’d only found us because sometimes Ivy and I would sneak off to the side of town where she lived.
We’d wait for her in the park, where she often played alone. Over the years, we’d go there and spend time with her, becoming the only friends she’d had, the only family she had. We’d done that so she wouldn’t forget us.
We’d also told her that if she ever wanted to run away, she could come to us. We’d been young too, unruly teenagers who hadn’t known what kind of trouble that could cause. But years later, when she showed up at our cottage, my mom welcomed her with open arms.
And after Kelly told us how she was living, my mom and the older Petals had been ready to go to war for her. So, when her grandparents and uncle came looking for her, those Petals made sure they knew to never try that shit again.
I could still remember my mom yelling, “Fuck the court and fuck your custody claim. Come near this child again, and I’ll kill you all before you have time to say the word judge.”
Of course, Ivy’s mom had ended up killing Kelly’s uncle a few days later after Kelly told us he’d started looking at her the wrong way, which was why she’d decided to run. She’d been with us since then, living with her mom’s best friend and fellow Petal until she was old enough to live on her own.
But the damage her father’s family had done to her still had its grip on her. They’d beaten her confidence to a pulp and taught her that speaking up for what she believed in, for what she wanted, was a punishable crime.
They’d made her feel like she had no voice. Made her afraid to say what was on her mind. Which was why she’d done as my mother told her to with the Marcel case. She’d been afraid to go against my mother’s wishes.
She’d been afraid of being kicked out of the fold. I was still trying to get her to understand that there was nothing she could do to make us turn our backs on her. Even this mistake wasn’t something I was willing to let her take the blame for.
I would shoulder it for her. Her young shoulders were already carrying enough burdens. I’d bear this one for her and for my mom. That’s why we needed to have this meeting. That was why I needed to leave the state for a while.
It was for Kelly, who’d already suffered more than enough. And for my mom, who was lost in her own mind, unable to stop reliving the mistake she’d made.