My Family, My Life "Sequel To His Butterfly"

Chapter 22: Protecting Myself

Avery's POV...

I was so tired of swapping cars to the point I was just about ready to change my mind about learning to practice today altogether. First I left the house at 7:30 a.m with my dad then we stopped at “Joe's” gas station where I walked out of the private exit in the back into a small hideaway parking lot and got into Brendan's black Mercedes-Benz.

Brendan then drove us to a small café called “Zy's” that was approximately ten to fifteen minutes away from our last destination. The café was quiet and the staff mostly consisted of people of color that ranged in all ages. Their beautiful smiles made the atmosphere in the place feel warm and inviting along with the vibrant decor of the establishment.

Brendan and I walked up to the counter saying nothing at all to each other. “I need to speak to Zyarria Lockhart,” Brendan says to a light skin freckled-faced young man that had black, curly hair with honey blond tips and a large gap in his teeth standing behind the counter.

The young man walked towards the back of the café and reappeared minutes later with a beautiful, tall Caramel-brown skin female who sported a head full of red, thick, healthy hair that was styled into a large puffy Afro right behind him. She and Brendan exchanged a warm and friendly greeting before he introduced her to me by my first name only.

“It's nice to meet you, Avery.” She greets me with a dazzling smile and her right hand extended towards me.

“It's nice to meet you too Mrs. Lockhart,” I responded with a smile also.

“Zy, I need for you to sneak her out the back to the car that is waiting to pick her up like we planned last week,” Brendan instructed the beautiful redhead. Without any hesitation, she beckoned me to follow her in the direction she had come from only moments ago. We walked down a semi-dark corridor then passed through a big, glass back door into an empty parking lot where Tyler stood out back beside the passenger door of his gray F150 pickup truck. He helped me to get into the passenger seat then buckled me in.

“Have a safe trip.” The young woman says right before Tyler drove out of the parking lot heading down a narrow road that leads out to the main entrance.

“Tyler, how long do we have to drive for this time before we get to our final destination?” I asked him as soon as he got on the main highway.

“Sister in law you have to swap cars one last time before heading to your final stop.” He answers while tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “We will be at our next stop in about ten minutes though.”

“Why are we making all these private stops or whatever you want to call it instead of taking me directly to where I need to be?” I asked him.

“Because it's for your protection.” He says nonchalantly with no further explanation and just focused his attention on the road. I felt like there was more to the reason why we were taking these drastic safety precautions than what he was telling me. This time we pulled into “Gwendolyne's De'Zigns” an upscale clothing boutique painted in a tan color with tall spotless windows.

The inside was just as spectacular as the outside with pearly white walls and black shiny floors. One side of the room held dozens of racks of top-notch, name-brand clothes made by well-known fashion designers while the other half was filled with gorgeous shirts, pants, evening gowns, purses, boots, and stilettos with the name “Gwen's” written on the tag.

Tons of people of all ages and ethnicity were milling around the quiet and serene first floor. I spotted a few men talking together as they stood close to three women who were sharing light-hearted laughter while searching through the high-priced clothes racks.