The Frequency Of Compulsion/GXG/ Grip The Series: Book One

THIRTY-FIVE

NB!
Just know the longer the update takes to happen, the longer the chapter will be.

And this one is very long.

I hope you all enjoy it, thank you for the support, every vote, read and comment. I really enjoy reading y'all thoughts on the book.

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T H I R D P E R S O N

The morning was still, with the sky above painted free of clouds as the sun began to push its head up, and while the sun took its time to arrive, the cool atmosphere remaining from the night took its time to leave. The morning was peaceful—not without noise, but peaceful. You could hear the melodies of birds singing without the many prideful sounds humans created, present to overshadow them.

PEACEFUL

And it was something that Keys greatly appreciated as she drove with the windows down, inviting in all the sounds. It reminded her of down south—it was the only time this place reminded her of it. She knew though that in about an hour nature would be blocked out, and chaos would suffocate every drop of peace like clockwork—like every morning.

The peace was probably right up there with things she missed the most about down south—her home.

She lowkey needed it.

The peace was what helped her the most when she left the army.

All that time on her grandparents ranch with mornings that were quiet enough that her mind was forced to mirror it.

CLOCKWORK

She used to spend her weekday mornings working on cars in her body shop, nights working at the club, and weekends on the farm. One thing Keys never minded was some work, she loved using her hands, found peace in it more than she did weed.

CLOCKWORK

As much as she liked peaceful, it wasn't something you got up here like that, people were too busy to be still enough to invite in peace or even let peace be free enough to live, and pretty soon it would be something she couldn't find down south too with the way Tyrone was carrying on down there.

Only last night another two died.

She was only made aware this morning after calling her car connect down south to make sure the parts were still there waiting. It broke her heart a bit to know the place that healed her was now being ripped to shreds, to know one day peace might not be able to last past seven in the morning no more.

The sound of the indicator began to click in her car as she drove, and soon she was pulling into the parking lot of Mr Gerald's shop. The move had her eyes landing on Compulsion standing at the shop's entrance with a bag in hand, deadass tired, and Keys couldn't help the smile on her face at the sight of P.

The sound of the car pulling in sounded in the quiet of the morning as Compulsion looked at the vehicle, then it came to a stop in front of her.

Compulsion reminded Keys of the south—felt like it. To Keys she was hard to those who didn't understand the value of consistent work, gentle but rough enough that you had to respect, held heavy manners and values, and melanin just like the southern sun. Pulsion also carried the same amount of blackness in her aura that the south carried in its homes.

SHE FELT SOULFUL

Keys had a lot of trauma; trauma you couldn't see because she didn't let it weigh her shoulders, even now as she walked around her car to get P's door. You didn't see that weight but she got her heart broken in relationships—romantic and platonic, but compared to the trauma of the war—of where she grew up...the journey of love was the least of worries.