Diamond Desire

Chapter Fifteen

There was an incessant beeping somewhere nearby that was driving me up the damn wall. It had been infiltrating my brain for what felt like a thousand years and now I’d finally had enough. My hand reached up, clasping at the dark air around me, and my tired eyes blinked a little too hard as I desperately craved to annihilate the nuisance to my peace.

Granted, lifting my arm felt like I was trying to push a boulder up a hill. But it was nowhere near as shocking as feeling a soft hand grab mine, and a large pair of grey eyes appear before me, blinking down in what I presumed was shock. She might have been high for all I knew. Or just confused.

I was confused. I thought I was dead.

“You’re awake.” Delilah hovered above me, dark circles beneath her eyes, her pale skin even paler.

She needed a good nap or something from the looks of things. Perhaps a trip to a sunny place to relax for a few hours. If she was real, that was. I presumed she was a figment of my imagination, even though I couldn’t work out why I would imagine her and not my daddy or something.

“Delilah?” I croaked.

“Yeah.” She grinned as she placed my hands down against what I was quickly realising was a hospital bed, before she hurried to hand me a bottle of water off a little wooden table on wheels. “Nice to see you awake, Sapphire.”

Blinking hard, I tried to get my bearings, unable to concentrate on anything but the noise and the dryness in my throat. Sure, the noise was from a monitor connected to little pads that were against my heart, checking for the pulse I apparently still had. But I didn’t care to see that I was alive. I just wanted the noise to stop.

I couldn’t handle so much sound after so long with nothing but silence, screams, and sobs. It was too much.

“Where am I?” It was a dumb question; I knew I was in a hospital. But Delilah hurried to let me know it was a local one in Vegas that Raya practically owned.

“It’s safe.” She said. “Don’t worry – there are Red Diamonds gangsters everywhere too, and we won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

I blinked at her a few more times, realizing what she meant a moment later when my sluggish brain connected the dots. She had a red diamond tattooed on her wrist. Fresh, shiny and cleanly done. She had a Glock in the waistband of her ripped black jean shorts. Plus, a thigh strap that held three different wickedly sharp blades – the kind of blades I always enjoyed holding on my body as a backup.

“You joined my gang.” My voice was rough and though I was sipping the water, it seemed I would need a bit of time before speaking became easy again. “Glad to hear it.”

I was glad to hear it, even if being in a gang probably wasn’t what every little girl dreamed of doing instead of being at school with her friends. Well, I had told her she could return to her fancy boarding school when things were safe to do so. But still.

“I blooded in with a shitty gangster – Widow helped me.” She twirled a lock of her newly purple hair around her finger, grinning a little wide for me to think she was saner than anyone else I knew.

Not that I had a problem.

I was insane now.

Plus, I didn’t need to know how she proved her loyalty – she hadn’t needed to show it. When I had offered her a new life with me, however long ago it was, that had waved away her need to show her loyalty with blood and death. I was kinda proud to know she had killed a useless shitty gangster, though. It was far better she take out someone evil inside.

Attempting to sit up, I tried to concentrate on the rest of the clean but bland white room instead of my aches and pains. When my head stopped spinning, I quickly realized there were three people in the room with me, none of which were my men, even if seeing other people warmed my heart and helped my brain come to terms with the fact I truly wasn’t dead.

“Yumi.” The little girl’s name rushed out with delight. Partly because I was quickly realizing I truly was safe and not dreaming, mostly because it meant my new friend had been looked after since our escape.

She looked better. A thousand times better. She was even smiling a little and everything about her screamed clean, fed and well rested. Her long black hair had been cut to her shoulders, her clothes were clean and new, and she had a flush in her cheeks too.

“Sapphire-san.” She bowed a little, then stopped, before she blushed red and straightened herself up, wiping away imaginary creases in her flowy white summer dress. “Sorry – habit. Americans do not bow.”

Delilah ruffled the little girl’s dark hair with a savage grin. “You can bow at me any day, Yum Yum. It’s adorable.”

Yumi scowled and swatted away Delilah’s hand, her hazel eyes flaring. “I dislike this name.”

“But you’re as sweet as one – it fits you.” Delilah kept grinning at the younger girl and for a moment I almost wanted to laugh, but seeing as Yumi was mad, I did my best to stay straight faced.

Yumi scowled harder. “I have killed before. Do you wish for me to kill again?”

I wondered if she had killed more than the one gangster I’d watched her end before deciding I didn’t care. If my new little friend had slaughtered a few dozen people, then good for her. She fucking deserved it.

The pair descended into bickering for a moment as I turned my attention to the final person in the room; the only one I didn’t know. He was a man, a thing I already disliked. But he didn’t look as dangerous as some men I knew. He was tall and strong, but in a slender way; more like Kody than Price. His hair was golden blonde, his eyes a deep chocolate brown, and his skin held the same pale hue Beauhad. The one that spoke of too much snow and harshness embedded in their DNA. He was also covered in tattoos; even his hands, neck, and a few on the side of his face. It was a fun choice, considering he didn’t look much different in age to me.

I liked the idea of scaring him as much he no doubt normally scared other people in the world.

I glared at him, and he took that as an invitation to speak as he leaned forward a little, in the uncomfortable-looking hospital chair he sat in.

“Hey. I’m Kiril.” His Russian was flawless – he was a native. Not like me.

“Who are you?” My tone was suspicious, not polite, as I finished my water and sat up more, flexing out my aching limbs and attempting a mental calculation of injuries.

I gave up pretty quick. Everything hurt, and I was covered in stitches and bandages. It was probably easier to figure out what wasn’t injured and seeing as I wasn’t dead; I didn’t particularly care about how bad a state I was in. Nothing mattered other than figuring things out and finding the people I loved. Partly so I could feel better and get a hug, mostly because I needed to touch them all to see they truly weren’t dead.

That I hadn’t lost anyone… other than Malone.

Kiril flashed his Red Diamond tattoo at me, which helped my confusion a bit but not enough seeing as I knew all the faces of my gangsters and he had never been one of them.

“Beau’s known me for years and he took me on when you were… gone. He asked me to come here too so I could meet you and work here instead of back home.”He said. “I’m here today specifically because I was asked to make sure the girls were okay whilst Beau stepped out to grab some food.”

Knowing Beau had picked him made me trust the guy implicitly, but I was not in the mood for being normal. I was suspicious, and wary, and a little afraid that some maniac would steal me away again. So it was only right I questioned the stranger further and didn’t just take his word that he was a friend and not another monster out to cage me.

I scowled. “Why?”

“I killed my father and his men; they were gangsters.”Kiril spoke without emotion. “I’m also twenty-one. My mother was a stolen girl like a lot of the ones you know, but my father deemed me worthy of being a gangster as opposed to a whore. I can shoot, but my preference is fighting with my hands; I’m good with stuff like that. And I’m good at killing. My birthday is in January, and I think coffee is disgusting but still drink it because it keeps me awake. Oh, and my favorite color is blue, and I’ve always wanted to adopt a Doberman and call him Tiny.”

He was almost listing his resume to me, except there was no handful of months in a shitty coffee shop. It was his list of kills and all the important things he’d done for the man he called father and a whole heap of random facts that were just enough to make me think he was messing with me a little.

I liked that, even if I was wary about danger still.

“You need protection from retaliation.”It was the most obvious reason for him to be here. “Your daddy had bad men working for him who would be happy to slaughter you. Or perhaps other family that would enjoy it out of revenge?”

“Pretty much.”He shrugged like it was no big deal that a bunch of bloodthirsty lunatics would want his head. “Plus, we’re kind of family. My dad and Beau’s mom were cousins, so like… I guess we are semi cousins too? I don’t know. But we share some blood and Beau thought you might prefer to have me in your gang instead of dead.”

“Family?” I perked up a little at the thought.

Even though it was foolish of me to care, the idea of having a family made me happier. After all, my family historically had only brought death, but it was comforting to know that my bloodline wasn’t completely extinguished. There was a horde of Montana’s now, even if some of them did not carry my surname and most didn’t have my blood.

“Yeah. Family.”

Sighing, I made the choice to play nice. “Okay. I won’t kill you then. Not unless you piss me off.”

Kiril snorted. “Good to hear it. And in that case, would you like me to do anything for you, boss?”

“Find me some food, clothes, and a phone? I need Beau.” I needed my men too, but not yet – first I needed my… I wanted… fuck, I wanted my daddy. But he wasn’t here. I’d desecrated his body. Then his mutilated corpse had been burned by my fire and left behind without a second thought. Instead, I had my other daddy. The one whose nightmare I had beheaded for him and who my mere existence caused him suffering.

Just fun things, you know.

Kiril came toward me and chucked a black duffle bag onto the bed, showing I had clothes inside, slid his own phone next to it, and headed off to find something to eat for me. That meant I could concentrate on other things; mainly the two girls who were still ribbing each other, which wouldn’t have been anything of note in the slightest except for one minor detail.

“You could die without witnesses. There is nobody on the ride home but us and Kiril – he wouldn’t care if I started stabbing you to death.”Yumi hissed at Delilah, her eyes burning with the temper I just knew she had.

Delilah laughed even harder as she spotted what I was doing, and hurried to open up my bag, yanking out clothes for me to pull on.

“That’s the spirit. Keep up that anger and you’ll get really far in life.” She replied something to Yumi in the same language the little girl spoke, much to my surprise.

“You speak different languages? I thought just Polish.” I yanked a T-shirt over my head, ignoring the twinge of my stitches for one reason and one reason alone.

It was Price’s shirt. The material was big and worn and comfy. It had his scent, his aftershave, and his undeniable aura – it had the words alpha male on it in massive pink letters, right in front of a rainbow and a fluffy ginger kitten.

I instantly burst into tears the moment it covered my body and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.

Delilah gently squeezed my hand, but lovingly pretended I wasn’t having a meltdown as I sniffed a shirt. I appreciated her.

“I’m fluent in Polish, but I know enough Japanese to talk to her. That’s why I’m here so Yum Yum can feel a little less confused about all these weirdos you have around whilst she was in hospital, too.”

Wiping my eyes with my hands, I tried to get a grip on things so I could figure out more details and work on the next steps of what the hell I was supposed to do today.

“You learn in school?” I asked.

“Nah. I learned from anime and manga. I’ve watched far too many since I was little. Tanner loves it, so I kinda sorta copied him.” Delilah waved her hands around with the same flair that Henley often had and my heart tightened further, wondering where my friend was and if she was okay, too.

God, I needed to see everyone – I wanted all the people I cared for around me until I could make sure they were real and okay.

“You are suspiciously talented, Delilah Hendrix. I am almost jealous.” I snickered a teary laugh as I stumbled to my feet and leaned on the bed a little too hard, so I could yank a pair of loose fitting pyjama pants on.

I didn’t give a damn about wearing real clothes or even a bra. But my brain knew I just wanted to cover up a little and feel anything other than that nasty ass dress I hoped had been burned into ash by now.

If it wasn’t, then I would do it. Then I would find a way to make my hair different from the black braids I could feel on my head. The ones that were both heartwarming, because I knew Logan had done them even without seeing it, and sad about because my hair was still dark.

Delilah held my arm softly as I shoved some fluffy bed socks onto my sore feet and tried not to flinch too hard at all the cuts on them. Without her help, I probably would have fallen onto my ass, so I was very glad she was here, even if I wasn’t sure how to form the words to say it.

“Actually, it’s Montana now. The paperwork for my new identity came in and you are now officially my new sister-mom. Well, legally Beau adopted me and the others because you weren’t here when the paperwork needed signing. Plus, he offered to let me change my first name and stuff if I wanted to. But I don’t – I think Delilah Rose Montana sounds cute.” She sounded far too happy about being a Montana and I wondered if she realized all the negatives that came with such a surname.

All the monsters who could come for her just as a way to make their mark in the world we lived in.

I supposed they were better than the monsters who had come for her when she was a Hendrix.

“The sister mom thing sounds hot in a taboo porn sort of way.” The door had opened again in my sock quest, another pleasant sight quickly heading toward me in the form of a tatted up foolish gangster with too bright a smile on his tanned face.

“Widow.” I grinned through my tears as he came to a stop beside me. “You are not dead!”

I was so fucking glad he wasn’t. It would have sucked to lose one of my friends too, and I had worried about him and Kellan after the crash, and not knowing what happened to them. I knew Angel had been fine enough with his vest on, but on the video my stalker had shown me, I had not seen a lick of Widow or Kellan leaving their car. For however long I had been gone, concern for them had been rife. Widow was an alternate reality me and I didn’t want his life to suck any more than it already had. I didn’t want any of them hurting over a fight they had been pulled into by me.

“Hey, beautiful.” He gently traced his tattooed fingers on my cheekbone, wiping away some tears. “You look like you went ten rounds with Sugar Ray Robinson, but don’t worry; we can still get platonic married, and you can be my sugar mommy. I’m not interested in you for your looks, just your bank account.”

“Is he a friend of yours?” I sniffled a little harder, trying to stop myself from being emotional as Delilah burst into laughter and Widow’s mouth gaped.

He spluttered nonsense for a moment before he sighed. “No. He isn’t a friend. But speaking of friends, mine and yours left twenty minutes ago to sleep and stuff, but I can give them a call and let them know sleeping beauty finally woke up.”

“No.” I shook my head as I picked up Kiril’s phone from the bed, weirded out that he didn’t have a passcode or anything. “Let them sleep a while then they can come; I wish to speak with Beau and things first. I need to get my bearings and stuff.”

It wasn’t just for my men’s benefit that I wanted them to have a nap. I needed a moment to come back to reality and actually believe I wasn’t dead before I saw all of the people I loved and all the emotional things that came with it. Sure, I was talking with those present, but it was different with them.

They were friends, recent ones at that in some cases.

They weren’t the loves of my life who I wanted to kill myself to be with like a fucked up Romeo and Juliet.

“Beau only left for a few minutes. He should be back any second if you wanna just wait for him? I can give you a quick rundown on the basics you missed whilst you were gone.” Widow said.

I nodded and placed Kiril’s phone back down. “Fill me in quickly, please. I know some things. Like that I… that Mal… I saw video of the explosion. It was real, yes? He is gone.”

I knew Malone was dead. It wasn’t just because I had watched him explode on a video, but because I could feel it. There was something deep in my bones that made me sure that the video was not fake – my uncle was gone. Not to mention that I had been held captive for so long without rescue. The man who had saved me from the dark before had been taken from me and I knew that without a doubt the second he hadn’t rescued me again.

Not that I needed saving in the end.

I’d done what every heroine ought to try – I had saved myself.

Widow’s sad smile clued me in before he said, “I’m so fucking sorry, Sapphire.”

“It’s not your fault.” My knees went a little weak, and he grabbed me, keeping his arm around my waist. “Mal was brave, and he was a warrior – even in the end he was the kind of man I loved him for being, and there is no better way for him to go than that.”

He was with Maggie. I knew that even if I didn’t believe in any sort of God. I just knew my unclehad been reunited with his first love, his unborn child, and my parents. The lot of them were somewhere pretty and safe, living the lives they ought to have had.

They were at peace.

It was just me who was left behind. It was me, and Lincoln and Misha. Retta too, and the others. It was the rest of us who had to deal with the pain of their loss, and we would take it. We would deal with the agony of their absence because it meant they were at peace and what else could we wish for, for those we loved?

Widow nodded and a second later, after Delilah took Yumi off to give us some peace, I had a rundown version of everything that had gone on. Even the worst bits. The kind of things I didn’t think I would have handled half as well had I not spent too long – weeks from the sounds of things – being tortured, driven insane and having the worst sort of sick fantasy occurring around me.

“They are dead?” I blanched. “All of your family and the girls? Fuck. Please tell me Henley made it out? She is okay? The stalker lady told me she was gone too – she showed me horrid things but I… I didn’t know if they were real. I hoped they were not real.” I wanted to hit something, but I could barely walk.

Even leaning on Widow didn’t help much, as he led me to a squeaky blue couch on the other side of the room. So I could eat the bowl of hospital soup, bread roll, and fruit that Kiril silently came back with before he too left and gave us more peace. The food was vile compared to the cooking I was used to from my Kody, but seeing as I hadn’t eaten properly in way too long, I didn’t care. I would have taken a plate full of slop and was glad to be eating things again.

“Henley came back to us three days ago.” Widow’s smile had dropped, his hands clenched into fists as he sat on the nearby armchair, playing with his switchblade. “The entire thing was just so Rocky could get to her – so he could take her.”

The soup almost came back up again. Almost.

I knew what Rocky would do. What he had done. If Henley had spent anything more than minutes in his company, she would be… she was…

Fuck.

“No.” my head shook harder, hands shaking. “Please tell me she is okay. I… just…”

Widow ran a hand over his face, cursing to himself a bit before he replied.

“She’s in rough fucking shape. I’m not gonna lie. The bastard tortured her – he tortured her and he… he cut her. He carved the word mine into her fucking skin, amongst other things. And he fucked up her eye, and the doctors have done their best, but they don’t know if she will ever get her full sight back – they said that eye might be stuck at like, half blind or some shit… and he… he…” Widow couldn’t keep talking about it and I didn’t blame him.

My tears were back, and Henley was just my friend. She was his family. Nearly the only one he had left.

“Is she here?” I had eaten half my soup in our conversation and a few bites of bread. And though I could have eaten more, I was feeling too sick to risk it and had places I would have rather been. “Take me to her please – if she would not mind.”

Widow did exactly as I asked, taking me to the room next door to my suite and was identical. It was full of light. Windows open wide, lamps on - the big light too. Not an ounce of space was left in the dark, nor was it occupied by one person. It was obvious that Widow had been sleeping in the room too, perhaps Delilah, by the looks of things, with some of her clothes and makeup lying around the chair. And curled up in the middle of a bed, sleeping hopefully without nightmares, was a very dishevelled and scarred Henley.

“Lilah, Kellan, and I crashed with her, so she wasn’t alone.” Widow confirmed my thoughts as I remained in the doorway, not wanting to disturb his cousin. “Yumi was in the next room being checked over, but she’s not too bad beyond superficial shit and a load of trauma. The doctor would have signed her out the first night she came but she wanted to stay until you were closer to waking up – I don’t think she wanted to be at the house without you, and I can’t say I blame her, even if she isn’t anywhere near as scared as the other women were. You are the only one of us she knew, even if it wasn’t for very long.”

The dead women were rattling around my brain like nails being stabbed into my flesh.

The ones who I had promised freedom to and had not delivered.

They’d been slaughtered in my house. My fucking house.

Henley had been taken.

Delilah had been bruised and forced to risk death so that Darius wouldn’t die.

Darius had been shot; almost killed.

The McCormacks had died. All of them nearly.

Retta had been injured.

Yeva had been hurt a little; she’d stained her hands with blood, too.

Diamond had been terrified, and I had promised her she would never be scared again.

I promised the bad men would never come back, and they had – they had come back, and they had…

“Whatever the fuck you’re thinking about, stop it.” Widow grabbed my arm, ordering me with his best stern gangster voice that did nothing to me, even if the thought was there.

“I think of nothing.” I lied as I ignored my trembling hands and the aches in my body as I stared at Henley and wondered just how long it would take me to make things right with her – to apologize for what I had inadvertently caused to happen to her.

“You look guilty, and I promise you’ve got nothing to be guilty over. We could have done loads differently, but we didn’t. There is no point living in the past of feeling guilt we don’t deserve — we should just concentrate on ending things. And on making sure Rocky fucking Mercer dies a very painful death.”

Widow kept insisting I had nothing to feel sorry over, and eventually I relented and changed the subject as I pinched the bridge of my nose, pretending to be calm as I watched Henley sleep, making sure her chest kept rising and falling. “Did Yumi told you her story? Do you know exactly what happened, or would you like to hear from me what I know?”

There was no fucking chance I was telling Widow what I had been through. Not now. Maybe not ever. I needed my uncle, my men, and my teddy. They were who would get to hear the truth, and they were who would know the depths of my pain. Nobody else could. I wouldn’t handle it. But I could speak about Yumi a little without going into anything to do with me and that was better to my brain – helping her out gave me something to focus on.

“Some. She didn’t wanna talk about it all and I can’t say I blame her. But she did tell us about where you guys were and how you got out. As well as some shit about her family being dead and having nobody else.” He squeezed my hand harder. “I don’t need to know about anything else you did or went through. Your escape alone was so good and you are a fucking bad bitch. I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it even harder – you’re so damn strong, I’m jealous. I would have given up ten minutes in and offed myself.”

A part of me wondered if I should admit to nearly giving up before I decided it was better off kept secret. At least from Widow.

I wouldn’t lie to my men – I would tell them everything.

“But I am not strong.” I laughed without humour as I stepped back, wanting to go back to my room and leave Henley in her peace. “I am just spiteful and stubborn.”

Widow laughed too, refusing my point with far too many compliments as he led me back to my bed, helping me onto the covers again. The moment I was situated against the pillows, I grabbed his arm, holding on as tight as my weary body would let me.

“Rocky and the Jackals will pay for what they did to your family – I will start with Kalvin and-”

“He’s dead.” Widow interrupted. “Beau found him and killed him a few days ago; Kalvin fucked you over for a deal with John O’Malley, not just with Rocky, and Beau wasn’t waiting for you to come home before he got revenge.”

Relief and delight burned through me like a tidal wave.

“I thought it might happen one time. I just did not think it would be like this,” I said as I leaned back into the cushions and Widow handed me another bottle of water that he kindly took the lid off so I wouldn’t have to struggle.

He was such a sweetheart, and I just knew when he eventually found the perfect woman — the one he could break his ridiculously cute female-abstinence bet with Kellan for - he would make her exceptionally happy. He was kind and truly kind men were rare and I was glad to call him a friend.

“It’s not your fault. He was a pussy and John threatened him. There was nothing you could have done and your original deal with him was sensible at the time you made it; my dad would have even made the same choice, and you know he’s a dumb fucking bitch with everything except gang shit.” Widow sighed as he grabbed a seat on the couch again, as we waited for Beauto arrive back.

I nodded as I drank and pretended my head wasn’t hurting or that the voices in my head weren’t still present. Weren’t still begging me to just give up and die already.

“How did Beau kill him?” I wondered.

“Very, very violently.” Widow replied. “There was a lot of your usual torture stuff, but he also thought it would be poetic to, um… well, to use rats.”

I burst out laughing. “Because Kalvin was a rat.” I could already picture what happened and, as fucked up as it was, I found it amusing. “He set rats on Kalvin?”

“Yeah, he tortured him a while until he bled, then tied him to a post in the middle of fucking nowhere, cut his intestines out until they just hung there, and then waited for these rats to come and eat him alive.” Widow shuddered. “Remind me not to piss Beau off. Ever. Like I would rather piss off every single one of your boys first before even thinking about making Beau mad.”

The images were making me happy, not grossed out, but it wasn’t Widow’s fault that he didn’t carry the same sadistic glee my uncle and I shared.

“Did Kalvin scream and beg?”

“An awful lot until the rats took his tongue.” Widow’s smile dropped a moment. “It seems a fitting death for rats and I presume that’s the fate that anyone who betrays you will meet.”

“Good.” I laughed harder, almost a little maniacally. “That is good to hear, hermano. I am happy with this, even if I would have enjoyed doing it myself.”

“So am I, even if it would have been nice to take a pound of flesh myself.” Right before Widow went to tell me in graphic detail all the things he would have enjoyed doing to Kalvin, the door burst open and I was greeted with another pleasant sight, even if it wasn’t Beau.

“Oh, pet. Look at you!” Retta rushed into the room, eyes teary, smile false as anything. “I just came to check on you again and Delilah said you were awake!”

She was by my side in an instant, ushering Widow to get me various things and instantly filling the room with her love and motherly care. It was enough to choke me. More than enough for the tears to keep fucking coming, like they were trying to drown me or something. And it was safe to say I didn’t want to be drowned.

I hadn’t even been able to shower before getting dressed, and was glad someone had so obviously given me a sponge bath or something, even if it was weird to think about someone bathing me whilst unconscious.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” I didn’t usually swear at Retta – it wasn’t polite, and I knew she scolded the boys for it. “I’m sorry about my tío. I did not mean for him to die; I would die before him, but I wasn’t able to do anything, and I will regret that forever.”

She grabbed my hand, tears falling too. “I don’t want to talk about it now. We can deal with him later, okay? Right now, I just need to see that you’re alive and get you feeling like yourself again.” To emphasise her point, she gently grabbed a lock of my dark hair, holding it up a little. “Want me to redo your hair? It suits you.”

She was lying to make me feel better, and I really appreciated it. Sure, I was heading for the nearest hairdresser the second I could get out of here, but for the moment it was nice to pretend, and I was glad to have Retta here to do that with me as I nodded my head, letting her coddle me and redo my braids even if they were fine.

Widow returned with the bag she asked for and took a seat in the chair. He didn’t stop smirking his damn head off as Retta spent an age brushing and braiding my hair, removing it from my face and line of sight.

He didn’t stop smirking at all as I waited with a woman I loved more than anything, a man I was glad to have as a friend, for my uncle to come to me. For my family to finally be back and with me – for me to no longer be alone.