Pierce Your Heart (Jealousy book 3)

Chapter 22: I'd die a thousand times

Destiny

I'm in a hotel room, surrounded air conditioned breeze, noise from the tv in the living area where mom was and my phone buzzing from all the social media gossip I'd been missing.

The last headline I read was about my husband awaiting his court date for forcing Louis Keenon and Jeremiah Ernest out of their business by gun point.

I looked at it for what felt like hours, awaiting some form of feeling to take me over, but I was numb.Like, my body has no strength to react anymore. 'I cannot be shocked it seems . I've had my lifes share of surprises and pain.' I thought to my self.
But not long after I put the phone down, I could not stop the the weight that landed on my chest.
The heavy realization that my husband could be incarcerated for this... this stupid shit! These greedy, murderous men!
The tears came and then came my cries as I started flipping on the bed like a fish out of water.Fighting air, and hoping that those two fuck heads can feel my wrath from here.

I cry and I cry some more.

"I'm so tired."I cry. "Stop this please God, just help me stop this painful cycle."

Ive been praying everyday, and I don't if God mad at me or my family, or something, but he don't seem to be tryna hear a sista out, and I need him to act.I have faith that he will, and I know he's always on time.But would if be too much to ask for that time to be now?

Is sigh heavily, letting out my last croak as I wipe my eyes and fall back on the bed, my hands at either side of me like I was being nailed to a cross.My thinned hair in a low pony tail on my shoulder.

What can I do?

Im not sick anymore, and everyday that passes I'm getting my strength back...so there has to be something, some way. ...
Brandon won't like it, but as usual he doesn't see that we are a team, and it's not just him that has to sacrifice for this family.

"Mamita?" I hear mother at my room door.

I swallow hard and turn mt head to face her.
She stood in a yellow dress, with floral patterns all over it, and her hair in deep drop curls to her breasts.Her olive toned, Puerto Rican skin, dusted with wrinkles that were not there before I got sick.

I sigh. .

Even my mother is tired.

"Mamita do you need anything? "She asks, leaning on the door.

I look up at the ceiling, pretending it was my mind and I was trying to find what I wanted. ...more than anything else in the world, right now.

I turn to face her again, and she stood patiently waiting.

"I want to see my kids."I croak, the tears coming back again.

Mama looks at me and I can see her the blood rush from her face as she takes on a face of sadness and worry.
Walking over to me, she gets on the bed And eases my head unto her lap . She strokes my hair as I cry into her thighs.

"Shhh, I know, I know..."she says soothingly, rocking my head back and forth.

Does she know?
Of course she does....she knows what it means to miss your child...
She knows.

"But we can't go to Atlanta baby girl."she sighs." And the kids cant go either, and they-"

"They could come here then."I cry, looking up at her, as the tears stream into my hairline.

She looks into my eyes and kisses my forehead.

"Its not safe mamita."She says. "No where in the states...they could find us as easy a Brandon found us."