Written in Ink

Twenty-three | Alonzo

I'm so frustrated and exhausted. Though the meeting had to occur, I wish they could have dealt with it on their own. Yes, I'm the leader, the boss, the regulator of the business... but I hire people to do their jobs, expecting them to do it right dammit! All I asked for was a damn vacation- but instead it's being interrupted and ended because of suspicious activity with our banking accounts.

It's suspected someone is taking what is being stolen and giving it to another vendor that we converse with, and transact with now. A fellow friend and weapon company we frequently buy from. Far too much money is being sent to them.

We will have to head back on the private plane tomorrow morning. I hate to have to end this so soon, but I have to get back to work. I've been off for a long time, too long.

On top of this I have to plan a damn gala. I have no interest in going, I hate galas in general. I bet Reagan wouldn't want to go either. But it's really the only reason we had the ceremony as fast as we did.

We are "the sickly in love newlyweds" that everyone wants to meet. The new family branch everyone is excited to see.

I speed back to the hotel so I can just crash for the busy day tomorrow. When I arrive, I notice all the lights are off, all of them but the light coming from the television. Sitting upright in an uncomfortable position, is a sleeping Reagan. Around her are Lorenzo and Buchanon with the remote still in her hand.

I chuckle slightly when I notice she is wearing my shirt as well.

Buchanon and Lorenzo's heads pull up, looking to see me. I'd rather they stay at the door so they can be on guard. Instead they are half asleep, snuggling with Reagan. I could have been anyone and the dogs would have just leaned over just enough to see who came through the door.

With that thought, I bolt the door, locking it in two places. I wander back to the bed, stripping until I'm just in a pair of shorts before sliding into bed. I lay on my back with my hands behind my head and look over at Reagan.

She got all pamperd today, I bet when she wakes up with a sore neck she'll be disappointed. So to be a gentleman or whatever, I sit up and grip her from behind the knees and sneak my hand behind her back pulling her down to where her head rests comfortably on a pillow. She stirs slightly, turning to her side, faceing me. Her lips part slightly and she lets out a breath. I turn onto my stomach with my head facing her direction.

For some reason, I want to put my hand out and bring her closer. To protect her. All day she was in the back of my mind. I must have sent her guards messages to check her utmost thirty times throughout the day.

I didn't like not being near her I guess. I like to know she is safe and will be. It's all so strange. Never have I cared for a person's whereabouts non professionally.

I was all pissed off when I got home but as soon as I saw her all my tensions melted away. It confuses me.

Usually when I'm mad, I stay mad for a long time. I'm the type to not-so-silently hold grudges. Anger fuels most of my actions.

That's how I've always been. My father would be mad all the time. I'd hate how his anger would terrify my mother. She is scared of him, and hates him for everything he does.

Whenever she'd disobey, he'd hit her. He'd beat her and invade her to where I'd find her curled in a ball in the corner of their room crying so much she'd throw up. Even when she was scared for her own life, she would hold me when I was scared.

Whenever my father would catch us just holding one another, me would slap her and rip me from her grasp, screaming at me. Told me to grow up and stop being so weak and pathetic.

After a couple of times, by the time I was nearing fourteen, I distanced myself from my mother so she wouldn't be hurt on my account.

That's when I finally started to "man up". My training began to matter, and got very difficult to keep up with. Every day I was in the gym and the training room to become the best. I learned all sorts of fighting styles.

I had to be the best of the best so I can always come out on top. So I can never be defeated. I'm still undefeated. I still train. I continue to work my ass off to keep the legacy.

Keeping up with legacy is a lifelong job with no way out.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to get all the PTSD-ish thoughts banished from my mind. I scoot down the mattress, putting my head into a large pillow. I close my eyes, praying for sleep to come quicker.

Thankfully it does.

Thoughts?