Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“Not true,” English reassured her. “I’ll be back.”
“Anyway, I’ll try to make it up to you soon, if you’ll let me. At least make you some rolls that ain’t burnt.” She laughed mirthlessly. Before English could respond, the woman stormed off.
Chapter Twenty
I wanted her shades of gray. I wanted her angelic wings, and evil horns—dull, scorched, and black. I wanted her broken glass and twisted vines. Her bitter wine, and melted chocolate. All of that darkness and disaster was mine. She was mine. Including the rest of her, all of her wrapped in layers of gold, from the inside out. The bits of her that were wild, vast and free, which she only showed to a select few. She was a free spirit, with a conservative soul. A complicated woman with beautifully simplistic approaches to life.
I wanted her crunchy, dried leaves, and deadly black ice. I wanted her venomous snake bites, wasp stings, and excruciating shark attacks. I am not just here for the summers and springs. I don’t sit here only for the glow of a new day, and the rainbows that color the sky. I wrap myself around her stratums of gold, and cover her in my tainted, splintered wood. I protect the valuable parts of her, with the ugly parts of me. I let her enemies toss their stones at me instead. I protect her at all costs. Because her love has protected me from myself—now, things are reversed…
I don’t like being wrapped in her warm gold, beamed on by the early dawn, and then told more vibrance is to come after the storm. I don’t believe in fairytales, happy endings, knights on horses, or damsels in castles who sing melodies or spin thread into gold. I am used to blocking out the light by turning off the sounds, but how can that continue when I’ve fallen in love with the blazing sun herself, and her rays are so damn loud?
“Axel… do you hear me? Are you listening?”
English’s voice dragged him from his thoughts as he gripped the steering wheel, headed to the Department of Corrections. He reached for his pack of cigarettes, but she snatched them from his hand.
“Nuh uh… I’ve been speaking to you for like thirty seconds straight, and you’ve said nothing in response. Now listen, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours right now, but you have to talk to me.”
“Talk to you about what?”
“Axel.” She sucked her teeth, leaned back in her seat, and crossed her arms. “You and your father have a complicated relationship. You’ve told me about how he wasn’t around, cheated on your mother, neglected you and Dallas. Your mother gave even more details today, to let me know just how messed up it all was, but you are going to have to address this. This may be the best time, now that he’s at your mercy.”
“Address what? Nothin’ can be done about any of that, English. He is who he is, and he’s done what he’s done.”
“Did you hear what your mother said?”
“Which part? She said a lot.”
“See… you’re actin’ up. Don’t do this. She said one day he’s going to push you too hard, and you’re going to do like Tammy and fall, only you’re going to fall right on top of him.”
“That’s not exactly what she said.”
“Stop playing these games with me. They won’t work. You’re going to blow up on him if you don’t have the tough conversations, Axel! What are you afraid of?”
“English, stay the hell out of this.”
“What did you just say?!”
“You’re not deaf. You heard me. I am sick and tired of you, Dallas, and my mother trying to pretend to know what’s best for me. You don’t! This was a bad idea, bringing you along.”
“I don’t believe this. I can’t believe you are talking to me like this!”
“You just kept going on and on! I tried to ignore you and be polite, but you insisted on havin’ your say in something that doesn’t concern you. I can drop you off at home because I’m not in the mood to sit on your couch and get counseling like you’re some headshrinker. You’ve got your own problems—seems you’d be more concerned about making sure Master leaves you alone instead of fixating on my deadbeat father.”
“You raggedy piece of shit… listen here, boy. I’m not stayin’ outta nothin’! Not a damn thing, motherfucka!” She pointed her finger at his face. “Did you stay out of it when you sicced Channey’s Miami Vice ass on me? Had her babysit me without my knowledge? Did you stay out of it when you told your homeboy all of my personal business?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Legend’s felonious, crazy behind with his 200 AK-47s, wicked right hook, and killa dogs—and that’s according to you and Melanie—is runnin’ around here loose, knowin’ all my trauma, which was none of his damn business in the first place, since you want to sit there and act all righteous and indignant. I don’t know that man from a can of paint! Did you stay out of it when you called the police behind my back, and told them that if they don’t find that car Master was riding in, there’s going to be trouble? You out here threatenin’ police officers and shit, sportin’ your White man privilege on account of me, making things worse! Let my Black ass say some shit like that to them… You’d be bailing me out too, right along with Tommy, for threatening a police officer. Don’t you sit there and tell me to mind my business again, sir, when this right here,” she pushed her finger into the side of his head, “as it pertains to me and mine, and you’re mine, ALL MINE, IS my business!”