Prologue #2
I gave you crutch after crutch and you kept taking them, never planning on changing who you were.
I don’t deny that you are hurt Amiyah, but so are many others.
The difference is, they don’t just use that shit as an excuse to be shitty ass people.
I noticed a long time ago that you were one of those hurt people that go out of the way to hurt people and I foolishly ignored it.
What I didn’t notice was that I was one of your victims but unlike them, I was a willing one.
I allowed you to use and abuse me and that ends today.
You don’t have a safe space in me anymore and with how ungrateful you are, you barely have a fucking sister in me these days.
You need to stop ignoring those calls and take your ass back to the job that you only have because I was your willing scapegoat.
If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, go lay up with someone else’s man again and believe his sweet nothings until that comes crashing down on you.
Whatever you do decide to do, you need to be gone no later than tomorrow morning!
Don’t worry about leaving the key, I’ll have the locks changed. ” I spat and stormed off to my kitchen.
I ignored the look of devastation on her face because it meant nothing to me at this point.
I had never spoken so aggressively or candidly to my sister, but there was a first for everything.
I hated that the conversation was had this way because I planned on having a serious talk with her this evening, minus the anger.
I never imagined shit would boil over this way, but I was ready to have the real and raw conversation with her that she had been needing.
Her presence here bothered me in ways that I had to vocalize.
It wasn’t that I didn’t miss her or want to see her, it was just that I understood the reason that I couldn’t or at least shouldn’t have been seeing her for quite some time.
I knew that her returning home early was not planned or approved and just like always, she didn’t give a damn about consequences.
I understand that most people would say that her not giving a damn about her responsibilities was on her and that I shouldn’t stress over it, but most people didn’t make the ultimate sacrifice that I had for her.
I had made peace with the fact that I would never become an FBI agent like Amiyah was and I was content working as a Sheriff’s officer instead.
I had even made peace with the fact that Amiyah was really living out my dream because I sacrificed to keep her there at the expense of all of my hopes and aspirations.
What I refused to do though, was sit back and watch her ruin her career because I was sure that I wouldn’t be able to stomach that.
I was absolutely positive that I would resent the hell out of Amiyah if I gave up my spot in Quantico, just for her to fuck it up because she wanted to run behind another woman’s husband.
So, it honestly might’ve still gotten ugly had the issue at the funeral not happened.
I heard Amiyah make her way up the stairs as I pulled out the ingredients, I had already prepped for the dinner I was preparing tonight.
Hearing the shower start up, I couldn’t do shit but shake my head at the fact that she never even attempted to force me to hear an apology.
That was so her and I was crazy as hell for not acknowledging that sooner.
I already knew how she thought this would go, she thought she would allow time to pass, and this would just blow over but not this time.
This time, I was fed up. This time, I actually felt used by the one person I loved more than I loved myself.
It was so crazy because if she was a half decent person, she would have never let me give up my dream for her.
Especially because she didn’t want the shit as bad as I did.
Hell, I didn’t learn until after she graduated that she didn’t even want to be an agent at all.
She only went because she saw how the thought of me going made my father so proud.
By the time I learned that, the deed was done.
However, she could have saved me from the regret from the jump.
Now, I found myself living vicariously through her when I wanted nothing more but to be in the midst of the action.
On the very sporadic times we could privately and safely speak, the conversations were filled with me begging her to fill me in on her assignment.
I wanted to know it all and it annoyed her that I didn’t let her leave anything out.
From the moment I learned that she was assigned to Gangland, the FBI’s unit that focused solely on gang activity, I was obsessed with what her day to day looked like.
I guess she wasn’t in the mood to fill me in on this impromptu trip, because she went all the way against the grain and handed me confidential case files. I knew she could be fired or worst, arrested, for sharing this information with me but it wasn’t like I was gonna tell.
I didn’t get any sleep last night because I poured through everything, twice.
Hell, I hated to admit that the shit only made me jealous that she was really doing something at that level.
Everything about the case excited me down to the fact that my sister was the agent that was actually able to infiltrate the gang.
Even her undercover assignment had me filled with envy because she was able to live amongst the hood elite and spend money like it grew on trees.
As I prepared dinner, I wondered if my jealousy caused me to lash out in her the way that I did.
I didn’t regret anything that I said, but maybe I could have said it better.
After all, I knew throwing my father’s words in her face was a low blow.
Their strained relationship had always been a sore subject, and I shouldn’t have weaponized that.
While the food cooked, I was able to calm down and think about how to move forward with my sister.
Of course, I didn’t really want her to leave and never return, but she needed to know that I wasn’t playing about her getting her shit together.
And on top of that, I damn sure was not playing about her needing to get back to work.
At this point, I would not hesitate to let her know that she had me fucked up if she thought just walking away from all of my hard work, was an option.
With that in mind, I went upstairs so that we could talk over dinner.
“Miyah, we need to talk and I know that you are hungry. I made loaded Cajun pasta, salmon and those Texas Roadhouse rolls that you like.” I called out as I knocked on the door of the spare bedroom.
She had claimed it as hers since I purchased the house.
After a few moments of her not answering, I knocked again.
“I hope you don’t think giving me the silent treatment will make me go away.
We need to talk. I’m coming in.” Although I warned her, I still gave her a few more moments before letting myself in.
Stepping into the darkened room, I noticed her laying across the bed. “Your ass did not fall asleep that…”
Before I could finish my statement, I witnessed Amiyah’s body convulsing as she began foaming from the mouth. It only took me a second to realize that there was an empty pill bottle next to her, so I wasted no time grabbing her phone and calling an ambulance.
“Amiyah, no. It was not this serious.” I cried in between speaking with dispatch.
Feeling her phone vibrate against my face, I pulled it away from my cheek just in time to see a threat come across the screen.
Sanchez was warning her that if she didn’t report back to her assignment by tomorrow, he would have to report her.
Instead of responding, I focused on getting my sister the help that she needed.
Once help arrived and made sure that she was stable enough for transport, I couldn’t help but to consider the situation she had placed us both in.
My job would be more forgiving, but there was no way in hell that she could go back to the FBI after a psych hold would be placed on her record.
With that thought in mind when asked for my sister’s information, I did something that I knew could come back to bite me in the ass.
Instead of listing her under her own name, I listed her under mine.
That one decision would forever change the trajectory of my life and everyone’s life that I would meet, moving forward.