{BOOK III}
Michael and Kennedy are back! But now they have a 15 year old son who's more than eager to dabble in the money business that Michael and Janet had started back up despite Kennedy's protest.
With both, Michael and Kennedy, slipping back i...
⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️ Contains violence depression & mention of s*****e
Reader Discretion is Advised
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Vengeance is a desire for revenge—retaliation against or punishment of someone for some kind of harm that they caused or wrongdoing that they did.
Vengeance is mine
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It has been two months. Two months since I buried my best friend and two months since I had to bury my husband.
My husband.
I could still remember the day I found him bloody, beaten and shot in his study in our home. Nigel didn't want me to see him like that but I needed to make sure it was really him and he was really gone. I wish it wasn't him, I wish he had faked it or I at least wish I had been there to hold his hand or beg his killer to take my life and Michael live.
Sitting on the stone bench I had placed at the foot of his grave, I looked up to the sky in an attempt to keep my tears from falling. It was a sunny, partly cloudy day. There was a light breeze that signified the beginning of Autumn was approaching. I managed to push back my tears and I looked back down to Michael's grave. The grass had grown back and he was covered with flowers from head to toe, most of which were from me and his mother. I have been coming to visit him and Clarissa everyday for the past two months like clock work; on time, not missing a beat. I would talk to them both for hours and then I would sit there and wait as if they were going to respond back but the only thing that would follow was silence.
The last thing I remember was Michael insisting that I come back to him in one piece and that I bring Janet back, alive, with me. I promised him I would and I fulfilled that promise. Never did I think I would have to worry about his safety otherwise I would have stayed to fight side-by-side with him. I regret going but deep down I knew had I not gone we would be sitting here mourning Janet and that would've also killed him.
I wiped the tears that escaped my eyes with the back of my hand. I thought by now I would have stopped crying, however, I find myself crying more and more each day. Sometimes I don't even realize I'm crying until I can feel the warmth of my tears caressing my cheeks. It seems instead of getting easier, each day just gets that much harder and I get angrier than I was the day before.
Finally, letting out a sigh, I got up and placed a kiss on Micheals headstone and told him I'd be back tomorrow before walking back towards the car where Nigel waited for me. Usually Nigel wouldn't tag along on my visits, to give me privacy, but today there was some unfinished business I needed to tend to afterwards and he insisted on going with me.
