11. Chapter 6
Evie
Present day
I am who I am, carved from my own shitty life.
Did I ask for this? No. Did Lizzy? Absolutely fucking not!
She’s the innocent one in all of this. I will do all I can to give her everything she’s ever wanted.
Did I run years ago? Yes, because at the time I didn’t know what else to do.
I was young and dumb, and then Lizzy came and my life changed forever.
I will protect this sweet innocent angel with my last breath.
My hair is pulled into a high pony with curled pieces framing my face.
I need my hair pulled back so my sight is in no way compromised.
I carefully pull on a crop top that has my tits on full display.
Pairing it with a black micro skirt and a pair of black thigh high boots.
I always make sure that I can run in whatever shoes I wear, or at least can carry some type of weapon in.
No way am I going anywhere unprotected. Do I look like some kind of damsel in distress? No. I’ll take care of me and mine.
My thoughts have been amped up since I came across Emmit.
I might have changed, but my heart still knows who it belongs to.
I just wanted to keep them safe. My stepfather is my villain and my problem, a big problem I really need to take down.
I have a few stops to make before I can head into my other job tonight.
Being a sitting duck doesn’t pay the bills.
I get lost in thought for a moment. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to live a normal life. One where you have a beautiful house with your dog and a loving husband. One with no fighting, no drug use, no prostitution. Where couches on the side of the road with people smoking off foilies isn't normal. One where speaking your mind doesn't get you a hand around your throat. Where bruises aren’t the norm for women. No, instead I was brought into hell. And the thing in between my legs was always going to make me less of a person. Because in this life, women aren’t anything but an object, a pawn to the big man’s game.
I refuse to be that. I will slit their throat and bathe in their blood before I’m anyone’s game.
For years, I watched my mom making breakfast, well, when we had food.
She would clean and basically crawl to my stepdad.
He made it known that he mentally, emotionally, and physically owned her.
It makes me sick to even think about it, I refuse to end up like her.
You can’t own someone, unless they want to be owned.
I bring myself out of my spiraling thoughts and finish getting ready.
I slide my Beretta into my boot and finish securing my knives.
When you live in my world, in my shoes, you take no chances.
Everyone is your enemy until they prove themselves otherwise.
Gang bangers don’t give a fuck about your feelings.
If you have a pussy they just chew it up and spit it out as if you’re nothing but a dollar sign.
So if you want to keep your dignity, you better be able to fight your way out.