Page 18 of Exile & Lula
“I don’t want to come off as pervy.”
“No, you don’t want to come off asweak. If you go there, she’ll know you have feelings. And, when Zodiac finds out where you are, he’ll know you have feelings, too.”
“Zodiac knows I have feelings.”
Nova shrugged. “Yeah, you’re a big softie for me and the girls. But getting woozy over a lady isn’t something he’ll understand.”
“He has the hots for a member of the Crimson Guard.”
“That’s about sex,” Nova said without missing a beat. “You’re feeling something more romantic, right?”
“I hope so. I’d be exposing myself to a lot of ridicule to get my dick wet.”
Nova swooned and sighed dramatically. “Holy, romance, Batman, you sure know how to turn on the charm.”
Wagging my finger at her, I grumbled, “See, that’s the kind of mocking I don’t want from people.”
A smiling Nova shuffled closer until she could hug me. “You’re so afraid to be wrong or embarrassed. I hate to break it to you, but there’s no trophy for keeping your shit contained better than others. Sometimes, you need to put your heart on the line,” she said and looked into my eyes. “Embarrassment is temporary, but regrets will chase you to your grave.”
Hugging my sister, I stroked her back where the still tender scar was located near her shoulder blade.
Nova never blamed me for what happened. No tears or cries of “why.” Nova immediately accepted what happened and adjusted to her new reality.
If Nova fell for a guy, she’d be willing to embarrass herself plenty to claim what she wanted.
I considered Lula in Little Memphis. The last thing she needed was a stranger showing up to feed a desire within himself.What kind of asshole would I look like if I showed up like that?
Despite the many reasons to keep my ass in Baton Rouge, I took Nova’s advice and cleaned up. My nieces were inside by the time I was ready to ride. Lyric wore another one of her hats. No matter how hot the weather got, the three-year-old needed her security beanie to keep her calm.
I smiled at the little face of Stitch looking at me from the top of Lyric’s head. She and Skylar brought me a clean cowboy hat since I never went anywhere without one. Lyric and I weren’t so different.
“Mama said you’re doing something romantic,” Skylar mumbled while tightening the hat’s chin strap. “And you might be sad if things don’t go your way.”
“We love you,” Lyric added. “Even if you cry in baseball.”
I hugged the little girls against me, loving them like they were my own. Watching us, Nova wore a sweet smile. Even if Lula Reed couldn’t see my value and sent me away, I had these three beauties waiting for me at home to fix my bruised ego.
LULA
My siblings brought me home and stuck close during the police interview. Sabrina double-checked the safe room located in the back of my closet. Rowdy examined my security cameras. Vanessa inspected my car for any potential tracking device.
Eventually, my sisters and brother grew restless. The Crimson Guard had been attacked. They wanted to ride around town, talk to snitches, and round up info. After claiming I wanted a nap, I watched my siblings head out.
Dillon was next door with Bebe and the foster kids. She worked better with other people, always wanting to prove herself. There was no glory in acing an assignment if no one was around to applaud.
Rather than take a nap, I walked outside to my back patio and admired the serene lake. Living so close to my parents might have seemed bizarre for a grown woman, but I liked knowing they were close. Deep inside, under my tough bitch, Blair Witch armor, I was still a little girl scared of the boogeyman crawling out of the closet.
Right now, I felt like the monsters won. Cher might never be herself again. Stevie’s identity was linked to her sister. They were permanently damaged because someone went through them to get to me.
“It’s not my fault,” I muttered to myself. “I didn’t make those men attack us.”
The words were the stone-cold truth. I hadn’t done anything wrong. No one blamed me, but I got away with cuts and bruises while the sisters were forever changed.
Reclining on a lounge chair, I replayed everything from yesterday. I lingered on the sight of the dead man in thesafehouse’s hallway. I chose to put all the blame on him. He’d orchestrated the suffering. Now, he was dead.
Did his death set the world right? No, but I still recalled the frozen look of fear on his dead face. It was a small thing compared to so much suffering, but I chose to focus on something positive.
Restless, I considered working, but my head was in the wrong space to do anything productive.
