She Was a Friend of Mine 5: Death Pool by Jasheem Wilson

Author:Jasheem Wilson [Wilson, Jasheem]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Delphine Publications
Published: 2016-01-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 63

I told him everything and I mean everything about my past.

For a second we were good, we were cool. Even though he was asking questions and being intuitive throughout my long, long story. When I’d gone through my murderous years with Spin, he remained silent, but I felt we were okay by the time I was through telling him about Africa.

I told him about when I came back from Africa and found Dr. Richards in my house.

“You look a mess,” she kept telling me after she wore me out. I’d just driven home from the airport to find her in my house waiting for me. She dumped my luggage out and re-packed my luggage and me up.

I stayed there haunted by my life, when she surprised me with the trip to Jamaica.

I’d told him everything and brought my story full circle. I told him about the trip to Jamaica, which led to us meeting and why we were there. Now, he understood what was going on and why I was acting the way that I was acting when he met me.

I thought it was okay, because of his body language. He laughed and he smiled at the end. However, when I started rambling nervously, he stopped me.

“Shi,” he said.

I looked up at him with expecting eyes.

“What happened the night you were shot?” he asked, stopping my heart. “You weren’t at the shop, were you?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I didn’t want to tell him what I was doing and where I was. I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him I’d just murdered the woman that had a child by my ex-husband. It didn’t matter if she broke into my shop and put Biscuit in the hospital, because I didn’t know that when I killed her. I couldn’t tell him there was still something going on that I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand it, so I couldn’t drag him into all that.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t keep it from him either, so, I closed my eyes and told him what happened.

He looked shocked. He stared at me and then told me he had to digest it. He told me he needed a few minutes, before he said anything to me.

I couldn’t read his face. It was a blank stare, which I knew was masking his hurt. It didn’t matter what I did and to who. It didn’t matter what was done to me. He got up and left me sitting on the bed, listening to his exit. He left me all alone in the room with my thoughts and yes, as usual, they began to work a number on me.

I mean, the truth was supposed to set me free.

This however, was not freedom.

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