The Saints' Trilogy: Book Three
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟
Katya Markova had her innocence ripped away from her and then her life was destroyed. It all led to her developing the dangerous addiction that is steal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Thank you." I say to the young lady with a smile.
I then walk out the place with people staring at me, but I don't actually care.
I woke up missing my parents today and then thinking about my aunt.
Realizing that I didn't have my bracelet with me anymore and that I never will again, I went searching for my mama's coat. Her bright hot pink coat that made her so happy. I then decided to put it on and go walking into a part of the city where there are ice cream shops near the beach.
I guess nowadays it's weird to see people wear bright colors.
I just came out of the ice cream shop with some cookies and cream ice cream. It's a basic flavor and not my favorite but it was my papa's, and this is now my way of feeling close to him. It actually tastes better now that my father isn't here.
I feel a sudden presence behind me just as I see an empty bench a few feet away.
"Can I help you, officer?" I call out to him as I make my way to the bench.
He stays quiet and continues following me. It's not until I sit on the bench the I finally decide to turn to look at him.
"You followed me last night too." I state with a smile because it's clear by the look on his face that he didn't realize that I saw him.
As a thief I have to be very aware of my surroundings at all times. He was in my surroundings.
"Why haven't you arrested me if you have witnessed me do and say so much?" I question after eating a spoon full of my ice cream. I think it has just turned into my favorite.
He stays quiet staring at me, and I pat the spot beside me lightly indicating that I want him to sit with me. He seems hesitant for a moment but then sits down.
We both look out into the ocean and stare at the unsteady waves. It's cloudy today and a bit cold. Definitely not the weather to eat ice cream but I really don't care. I continue eating my ice cream as we both stay in silence. I don't know what I am supposed to talk to him about. I really don't know him at all.
"Ms. Markova." He speaks lowly to grab my attention toward him.
I stare at him in a way that is indicating for him to continue with what he wants to say or ask.
"I apologize in advance for asking this, but what exactly happened to your parents?" His sudden question does catch me by surprise. We should have just stayed in silence.
I look away from him and my whole mood worsens. I was already thinking about my parents since the moment I woke up and now he wants me to reminisce their death.
He must really hate me.
I take a big scoop of ice cream into my mouth to earn more time as I decide whether I should tell him or not. He's an officer and I'm sure he already either knows or will find out himself if I don't say anything. I think I should just let him know because it's better if he hears it from than from some stupid criminal records.
A sigh escapes me before I look back at the officer who is still staring at me as he waits for an answer.
"They had the biggest heist in their lives planned that they were going to do. There was this guy that they had a little disagreement with which I still don't know what it was about." I start the story from what I remember but I obviously am not going to be fully honest.
"The guy somehow found out about the heist and their whole plan. On the day of it he was the one who disrupted everything and called the police. Then obviously they got caught right when walking out and they were going to get arrested." I am leaving major parts out because I'm not letting him find out about what Boris did to me.
"I had followed them because I had a horrible feeling about that heist. They saw me there when they were getting arrested and for staring at me and not listening to the police, they were killed." I try my hardest to push back that horrible image that is unfortunately going to be stuck in my brain for the rest of my life. I can still see their eyes and the way they looked empty the moment the life left them.
"Right in front of my eyes they were killed. It was quite scarring and traumatizing to be honest." I stare down at my half-eaten cup of ice cream.
"You don't seem to be so hurt." He states but not in a bad way.
I look up at him and something about him brings me some reassurance which I doubt he would actually give me.
"It does hurt and very badly. I've just cried enough tears and I don't think crying anymore will bring them back to life." I inform him before staring down at the sleeves of my mother's coat and then at the small cup in my cold hands once again.
"I don't even like cookies and cream or wearing hot pink." I state out of nowhere as I try my best not to let tears fill my eyes.
He stares at me but then at my coat and cold cup in confusion.
"Doing this makes me feel like my parents are hugging me. This was my mama's favorite coat, and this was my papa's favorite treat." I stare into his dark eyes that seem to become soft.
"I also only have a jacket that belonged to my father." He tells me in a way to make me feel better, but I can see that he wants to continue talking about him.
"What happened to him?" I decide to put my hand on one of his in a reassuring way that he can talk to me. I just did so why can't he?
He seems to tense a little at my touch and I'm about to pull my hand back when he takes it in both of his hand in a secure way.
"He was unfortunately an alcoholic. He just was around the wrong people, and he completely ruined his relationship with my mother and tried not to do the same with me. He was a great guy, but he fucked his life up." He sighs rubbing his thumbs against the back of my hand.
"He regretted everything and apologized when it was too late. He ended up getting liver cancer from all his drinking and he died." It's clear in his eyes that he had a lot of love and adoration for him.
"I'm sorry." I tell him genuinely because I know perfectly well how it feels to lose your parents.
"I'm sorry too." He tells me back but I'm not sure if it's toward himself or toward me.
I only stare at his attractive but sad face and his dark eyes that now seem lost in thought. He is still holding my hand and rubbing it as if it gives him some sort of comfort.
