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“And you succeeded in learning it,” Jay added in awe.

I nodded, placing my phone back on my lap.

“Well, the job we are proposing is that you teach others here how to sign. Once you are comfortable with that, I’m sure we could find more work around the center for you too, to fill your time, help us out.”

I gave her a small smile, appreciating all she was doing for me.

“Would you like that?”

Picking my phone up again, I typed out a single word that I had been trying to get answered for years. No one knew the damn answer but hopefully Jay could at least answer it for this situation.

Why?

She went to the couch by the far wall and patted the spot beside her.

I moved from the hard chair and joined her.

Jay turned toward me, giving me her full attention. “I know you’ve had it hard and are trying to make a life for yourself. I’m not even going to pretend to know what you’re going through but I’m offering to help in any way I can. That’s what we do for everyone who comes here. We don’t close our doors on anyone. Even when it’s someone who just needs to get away because the demons in their head are too loud. You don’t have to have experienced recent trauma for us to take you in. It could be a childhood experience or a current experience. It doesn’t matter. Our doors are always open. As you know, we have quite a bit of trained staff who deal with all sorts of mental health conditions, trauma, PTSD, and more. Now that The Dove Project has gotten quite successful, we’re able to get doctors, therapists, psychiatrists and everything else that we require to help those who need us, but some of our residents still need to find their voice, or may want to learn a new skill while they are here. For this reason, the other owners and I have sat down and would like you to be part of the staff here. Offering ASL would be a wonderful addition to the team, and you are the only person we feel is right for the job.”

I tilted my head, searching her face for any indication that she was lying. I had learned over the last few years how to read people. That was what happened when you had nothing else to do and had to remain silent instead. You kept quiet, listened, and watched. Everything.

“You’re probably wondering why we want to hire you.” Jay laughed lightly. “In addition to your knowledge of ASL, you’re young and I think you can relate more to the other survivors here. They’ll see that there is a chance for a normal life. All of you are strong.” Her voice cracked, her eyes welling.

A part of me wanted to reach out and console her but I didn’t know how. My emotions were locked up tight. I wasn’t even sure when the last time was that I cried. And laughing? That was almost non-existent anymore.

Thank you,I signed.

Jay smiled.You’re welcome.

My lips twitched, a tiny smile forming on my face at the fact that she had been trying to learn ASL.

For me.

While we filled out the paperwork, I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened to me if I hadn’t been introduced to The Dove Project. It was owned by Jay and her friends. They started the company years ago after they had worked with their husbands and brought down a human trafficking ring. I didn’t know their individual stories, but I did know that they all experienced their own personal trauma. Some more than others. I could see it in their eyes and the eyes of their husbands. They tried masking their pain with whatever vice they could and even though it had been a long time, it was still there. It would always be there.

I was thankful the center had grown as much as it had and that I was handed information for the center from the social worker at the hospital. I couldn’t stay in that city. I couldn’t even stay in that state. When I first wrote down my need to leave, my social worker did her research and returned with the information on The Dove Project. I agreed that it was the place for me and she set it up.

I wasn’t sure what would have happened to me if that raid had never occurred at the brothel. The only thing I currently knew, as safe as I thought I was, someone was likely looking for me. Maybe someone would always be looking for me.

I also knew that one day, the monsters would come. Whether it be the ones in my head or the ones lurking in the dark corners of my room. It was only a matter of time before they came to collect. I just didn’t know who would be first.

The ones in my head.

Orhim.

Cyrus

Ididn’t usually visitmy parents’ gravesite by myself, but my brother was off doing who knew what, and I didn’t feel like waiting for him. He typically joined me, was the first one to arrive most times, but not today. For whatever reason, pussy was more important to him. That was the excuse he always made anyway but I knew that it went deeper than that. He missed them. Both of us did but their deaths affected us in different ways.

Our parents had been gone for over twenty years, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Both shot and killed within a year of each other, the agony over losing our mom and dad when we had been so young, would forever be etched on our damn souls.

We had different ways of coping with that loss. Sammy fucked through anything he could stick his dick into, and I fought. I also drank a bit at times but fighting was better and helped me deal.

Glancing at the headstone one last time, I took a deep breath, swallowed my sorrow, and headed back to my bike. It had belonged to our father. Even though it was old, the machine purred like it was brand-new. Keeping up on the maintenance helped and I would ride it into the ground if I had to.

My phone took that moment to buzz. It was later in the afternoon and while most were getting dinner ready, I was itching for more. Something else. Something different. Something I never had before.

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