Page 3 of His Secure Embrace
“Thank you, officer. Can she have a few more moments with the body?”
The body.
Anger filled my body as I glared at James. “Fuck you! She’s more than a fucking body. She’s my best fucking friend, you insensitive jerk.”
“I didn’t mean?—”
“Leave me alone. This is all your fault.”
He frowned. “You’re looking for someone to blame, and that’s okay. I’ll be your punching bag while you grieve. However, I didn’t pull the trigger, so this is not my fault.”
Before I could curse him out more, the paramedics made their way over to us. They did their routine before solemnly placing a black bag next to us. It all happened in a blur as they bagged my fucking best friend up and placed her on a stretcher. Her blood stained my clothes and covered my hands.
“Ma’am, we need a statement?—”
“I can give you a recount of what happened. She was with me when gunfire began. It wasn’t until police were on scene that she found the bo—her friend. I was off duty at the time, but I know both shooters were standing near the stage. I’m not sure which of the dead bodies up there are responsible, but both men I saw in the altercation were hit.”
The female officer nodded and thanked him for his statement before she and the paramedic walked away. I sat back on my heels and stared blankly at the retreating stretcher with my best friend inside.
“Brielle.” James said my name once again. His eyes were soft. He’d removed his vest and claimed the spot beside me.
“I . . . I can’t breathe.” I clutched at my chest as my lungs burned.
“I’m going to wrap my arms around you, okay?”
I nodded as I clawed at where my heart was beneath the skin. Each scratch of my nails burned my flesh.
“I’m here. I got you.” He wrapped his large, muscular arms around my body and rocked me gently until my lungs could expand with a deep breath. As I exhaled, all of the emotions hit me at once. I cried in this man’s arms. I released every gut-wrenching sob until my eyes were dry.
My best friend was gone. How was I supposed to live without Jana in my life?
Six MonthsLater
Loud music blasted through the pill shaped Bluetooth speaker. I loved to work with a mix of genres as background music—neo-soul, R&B, rap, pop, hip hop, and country all shuffled through my playlist.
“It’s a low stock in the notebooks and pink pens,” I called out to my assistant, Jaria. I folded the glue edge of the bubble mailer and smoothed the shipping label horizontally over the package. Then I placed the sealed package into the bin of completed orders and crossed the name off my list.
“Got it. I’ve marked it low on the website and will add it to the cart of our bulk shipment. Is there anything else we need to add right now?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Nah. I don’t think so. You’ve already added the T-shirts and hoodies, right?”
She nodded. “Yep.”
“Then we should be good to complete the shipment. This was the last order on my list, so we can clean up and head out.”
“This is why I love working for you,” Mikale informed me. Mikale was an employee of mine who helped with shipping and packaging. He was a cutie patootie but would skin me alive if I ever said it aloud. Mikale stood all of five feet, four inches, shorter than me, but packed a fierce personality in his small build. He was a great asset to the team and always kept a fun atmosphere when we worked together.
It was so wild to reflect on my life over the last six months. Jana’s death shook me to the core. In the beginning, I hardly ate or slept. When exhaustion finally forced me asleep, I would wake up in a deep sweat from my mind replaying the moment I held her lifeless body in my arms.
It took maybe a month for me to kick the grief to the back of my mind. The revelation came when I was watching an old video of ours. The video was us out at brunch. We were talking about our goals and where we saw ourselves by the age of thirty. I realized I still had a lot of work to do and wanted to incorporate some of Jana’s goals into my life.
As a result, I’d created Jana’s Jewels. I went around the state to find hidden gems and Black-owned businesses to support. Besides highlighting places and people, we sold merchandise. We had clothes, notebooks, pens, lanyards, stickers, and sold digital eBooks. In the first month, I made five hundred dollars. I thought it was so amazing to see the support, but in the second month when I hit five thousand dollars, the support blew me away. In just four months, I’d garnered over twenty thousand dollars doing what I loved. It was amazing because I could give adecent amount of money to my assistant and employee. I prayed that by the one-year anniversary I would see six figures.
As I placed the last bin in the trunk of Mikale’s car, my phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans. I pulled it out as I walked back into the building to get my purse. I saw a message from the group chat with Tava and Lynae.
TAVA:
Bri, baby we miss you, Stinkabutt.
