Page 57 of Widow Mayker

Disbelief also rested in the pit of my stomach. It had nothing on the fire blazing through me, though. Like a tidal wave, guilt swept through me.

“Is there a suspect in custody?” I questioned over the deafening sound of blood rushing through my head.

“She was found in another county, and the investigators claim they have no leads.” She sighed and shook her head. “Whoever it was, they left her like she was some trash on the side of the road.”

Swallowing the bile that rose in my throat, my head swam with fury.

“Okay, thank you for telling me,” I said to Heir.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Of course. I’m going to call Von and see if he can find out any information.” Iyana’s murder wasn’t in his jurisdiction, but she was a resident of Pensacola. The public would want answers that I was sure Von could get.

Heir clicked the television off and came around to hug me. “I hope they find who killed her and put them underneath the jail. She was so sweet.”

“Yeah… Right.” I returned Heir’s hug, then waited for her to leave my office before I collapsed out of my chair. Crumpling to the floor, I clutched my chest and resisted the urge to scream in hysteria.

“You ready to learn how to protect ya’self?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied to Adir.

My past rushed in like a four-hundred-pound linebacker, seizing my chest.

“Which gun do you wanna work with today?” Poppa asked.

“The thirty-eight,” I said. For some reason, I loved it the most.

“I want you to hit ya target on the first shot. Can you do that?” Adir quizzed.

“Yes, I can,” I told him.

Tears dropped from my eyes down to my hands that palmed the area rug beneath me, jolting me back in time again.

With determination I felt in the depths of my bones, I attacked the punching bag, pretending that it was my father’s face I pounded. Much like the way he put his hands on my mother, I wanted to put my hands on him. He was dead, though, and so was my beautiful mother.

“This can’t be happening,” I cried to myself. I saw the warnings loud and clear but chose to walk away. Now, Iyana was dead. She was dead because of me. She was dead because I chose to walk away from the woman who’d always protected me and other women. The woman who was perfect at ridding society of the evil muthafuckas that ruined women like me. Women who just wanted to…live. Women who were bubbly, sweet, and kind. Women who wanted to love and be loved.

There was always someone ripping lives apart for absolutely no good reason other than their need to control someone. Abuse was a disgusting animal that needed to be put down like an infected rodent. I had no understanding for those who wore such a title. I wanted them all dead!

I’d made an oath to myself that I was about to break in the name of retribution. I tried. I really tried to walk away from it all. For a split second, I believed it was possible to simply let go. I was stupid to believe that I could leave it all behind me.

However, this moment was where the cards fell. Either I was going to rise to the occasion or let Iyana’s death haunt me for the rest of my days. The police claimed they had no suspect, but I knew who was at the top of my fucking list. He was going to suffer for killing Iyana.

HEIR

As lunchtime neared, I completed another report and placed it to the side for a second thorough scan I would do later in the day after my eyes rested. Crunching numbers all day was exhausting and sometimes, it left my brain feeling foggier than usual.

Placing my fingers on my temples, I worked them in small circles. A headache crept on the horizon, and I didn’t have time for it today. In a few days, DJ would’ve been turning another year old. With each passing year, I thought I’d get used to not caring about such things. My father and DJ’s betrayal cut deep, leaving me with lasting scars that seemed to worsen over the years. Maybe it came with aging. The older I got, the more I hated my father and DJ for what they did.

They stole a piece of you.

Therein was my issue. My father and DJ stole the piece of me that hoped for a love like I witnessed Adir have with Coco and their children. I was raised around men like him, who doted on their wives and spoiled their children. Out of all the Bell men, I couldn’t understand why my father and brother were the ones who ended up defecting.

It ate at me so often that sometimes, I consumed myself with the what ifs and whys. Because of them, I had no chance of having the love I once dreamed of. My lack of trust in a man would be a complete turn-off and cause more harm than good. Our relationship wouldn’t last past the bedroom, and who wanted a relationship like that?

Sighing, I wished I could bounce back from the trauma of my past. I was once the woman who talked my mother into moving on with her life and not allowing what my father did to keep her from loving again. Now, here I was, unable to give myself the same advice. Iyana’s death seemed to open the wound again, and I didn’t even know her like that. Just the thought of someone killing and discarding of her the way they did broke my heart. And, surely, Maja felt the same way. We’d both been through too much.

I choked back tears, hating that I gave any of my energy to the men who broke my heart. My feelings were all over the place, and I could only contribute it to exhaustion and that time of the month nearing…Heart stopping in my chest, I snatched my phone off my desk and rifled through the apps for the calendar.