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“Pathetic!”
I choke and shake my head, my heart rate faster than a speeding car.
“You can never escape me!”
Before my brain can catch up to my body, my eyes fly open and I wail, grabbing the gun from his hand and pointing it at the target. Pulling the trigger before Kingston can stop me, I unhinge and lose myself.
“No!” I scream, pulling the trigger over and over again, my vision blurring through my tears. I don’t see anyone around me, just the target ahead. I have lost his touch, lost the voices, lost everything but the goal of fighting for my life.
When the gun empties and the clicks of an empty magazine sound, I take deep, chest-caving breaths and stare at the now damaged target. Joel fades from my mind and I feel every ounce of blood pumping through me, hot and steady, like lava fresh from an erupting volcano. I am that steaming, lava-pouring, and damaging volcano.
My breathing begins to even out and my surroundings come back into focus. Kingston’s tatted hands close around mine, and he slowly pulls the gun away from me. Turning with steady movements, I face my parents and Kingston, who all wait silently for me to speak.
I blink a few times, and as if I was possessed, I feel something leave me, a darker more brave side of myself that I never knew existed. It all hits me too fast, and I become an emotional wreck.
“Kingston,” I cry, falling into his arms and sobbing into his chest.
“You are strong, Lana James,” he coos, petting my hair and whispering in my ear. I can hear my mother crying alongside me, and I feel my dad’s hand on my back as he sniffles. I even made him cry. And little do they all know, even though that terrified me, it also revived me. It awoke a stronger side of me that never had the courage to defend herself. It awoke the Donovan in me, and God, does Kingston have any idea what he has done for me?
I want to be his. I want to be a greater version of me. I don’t want to be Lana James, the scared, abused victim, but instead Lana Donovan, a better version, a stronger version, a fighter in her new skin.
As I peer up, Kings holds my cheeks and whisks away my fast-falling tears with his thumbs. His eyes search mine and I see how afraid he is, how unsure over what he just did to me. In attempt to soothe him and make him release the breath lingering in his heavy chest, I whisper, “Thank you.”
Kingston smiles, but it never reaches his eyes, and I assume he is just coming down from the high of it all. That was the most intense situation he and I have ever been in together. We wandered into dangerous territory, but came out liberated, washed clean from it all—at least I know I did.
My dad doesn’t say much, and my mother keeps to herself the entire car ride home. Everyone seems put off by what happened, except me. I want to speak out, but I can’t find the appropriate words, because I still feel outside my body.
We may have been doing that to prepare for Joel’s return, but if that day never comes—which I pray it never does—today was the day I faced my demons and defended myself. Took upon myself the revenge I’ve silently wished I had all those years ago. I was vindicated.
“Where do you guys want to go for dinner?” I finally break up the cloud of tension.
“Wherever you want, baby girl. You pick,” my father answers, coughing through the frog in his throat. God, is it really that bad? I thought they all felt what I did, but I guess I was way off.
Reaching out when Kingston doesn’t even budge, I touch his thigh. “Kingston? Want to go anywhere special?”
He keeps his eyes forward and his lips drawn in a tight, straight line. Lifting his shoulders, he puts the choice back on me.
“Um, maybe we can go to that nice steak house on Fifth? Downtown, we can meet Trey and Shayla there? We just need to go change. It’s a bit upscale.” I look over my shoulder at my parents, and they both nod.
“Sounds wonderful. I love steak,” Mama answers, slowly coming back to the here and now with me. Let’s hope Kingston and Daddy get the memo.
As I look over at Kingston one last time, he stays concentrated on driving, shutting me out for the rest of the car ride.
I watch everyone chat at the dinner table, but I’m in an alternate universe up in my head. I feel sick, my hands feeling dirty, even after Lana and I showered to get ready. These hands wrapped around her neck in a way they shouldn’t have. An act of disgrace, instead of lust and passion. My intentions were to help her, when really they fucking betrayed me, ended up backfiring and working against me.
She looks stunning tonight, small and delicate, fragile and elegant in her white off-the-shoulder dress. It hits her knees, but has a large slit lining the side of her leg, stopping mid-thigh. The form-fitting attire is striking against her tan. I look boring in comparison to her, with my nice dress pants, white button-up top, and thin tie, ending with my black suede shoes. Lana is enthralled in the conversation everyone is having at the table, but her hand never leaves my thigh as the other one occasionally takes residence on her lemon water.
The upscale restaurant is lit with dim chandeliers and intricate sconces along the walls, the elegant setting worthy enough to surround my queen. Our son sits next to Lana, his hand in his mouth as he sucks on his fingers covered in banana. Shayla and Lana are in conversation, as Trey looks busy chatting up her parents and Kathy.
I don’t pay much attention to anyone else, other than Lana. My fingers touch the skin of her exposed neck, thanks to her curly, messy, yet sleek ponytail, clearing me a path. I watch the motion of my thumb lightly tracing over the faint, soft blue veins under the thin column of her neck, and I almost lose myself, replaying the image of my hands gripping her neck again in my head.
I couldn’t stop the torture on my own, and almost don’t even attempt to, but then she speaks, turning and smiling at me. Her fancy earrings make a sound, and the smell of her flowery perfume hits my senses. “Kingston? Daddy asked you a question.”
Looking at her with a haunted expression, I wait a moment while my brain plays catch-up.
“Sorry, what was that?” Blinking a few times, I give my attention to Jeffery.
“I just asked what time you and Lana were going out tomorrow. I was thinking of picking up some pizza and having a night in with Becky and Prince.”
