Forever You're Mine (MINE #4)(14)

“I’m tired,” he muttered and I thought my heart was going to shrivel up and die right there in my seat.

“No,” I pleaded, looking into his eyes. The only trait we shared. We were completely different in every other way. Where my hair was light, his was dark. Where my skin was golden honey, Winston’s was tobacco brown. One of the main reasons he was persecuted when he had his trial.

“Cora, it’s time to accept this. I feel guilty enough for playing into your hope like I have all this time. But I did it because…because I didn’t wanna hurt you, baby girl. But I can’t do it no more. I’ve accepted my fate. It’s time for you to do the same. You find a place to stay yet?”

“I’ve been lookin’ but I…”

“No more excuses. You have got to give this shit up, Cora. Please.” he shouted and the guard gave him a warning look.

“Winston, you know I can’t do that.”

“Listen, I can’t leave this world knowin’ you’re still livin’ under that roof.” He pulled both hands down his weary face with a defeated sigh. “Promise you’ll find somewhere to live soon. Stay with a friend. Something. I don’t give a f*ck, but it’s time to get out on your own, live your own damn life.”

My heart was shattered as I walked from the facility. I hated leaving him behind. It hurt to think about him locked away in a cell waiting to die. It made me angry and sad, and the combination wreaked havoc on my already aching and confused heart.

I swiped away tears from my face as I climbed inside the truck. It was several long minutes and a few gut wrenching sobs later when he softly asked, “You ok?” I nodded before dropping my face to my hands, tears flowing in earnest now from the concern in his voice. “Dammit,” he cursed, pulling me into his arms.

I immediately wrapped myself around him, seeking comfort, strength, and something to hold on to.

Something to make the pain end.

“Shh…it’s ok, babe,” Cannon soothed, stroking my hair and holding me tight.

I cried right there in the safety and warmth of his arms, like I’d done many times before.

Only this time…I never wanted to let go.

When we were back on the road, he reached for my hand. “Wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head, attempting to shake off the overwhelming urge to break down again. “It’s all my fault.”

Silence.

“What’s your fault?”

I swallowed, searching for the courage to say it out loud. “If I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t…” My breath stalled in my throat, his gentle voice, the strength of his touch, it was all too much and not nearly enough. “It’s all my fault.”

“Tell me.”

I’d never told him the whole story, just bits and pieces. I relived it every day of my life. I didn’t want to do it again. But I needed to get it out.

I had to.

“Momma went out that night. Winston had a date, but ended up not goin’ so he could stay home with me. I was thirteen and scared to be home alone. Our neighbors were weird and there was always loud parties and stuff over there. Anyway, we ordered pizza and played UNO before I got sleepy and went to bed. Then sometime later, there was loud banging and lots of yelling. Gunshots. God, I’ll never forget the sounds that night as long as I live. I don’t know how I made my feet move. I was so scared but somehow I made it to my bedroom door, and when I opened it they had my brother on the floor, beating him. I’d never seen anything so brutal. The rage in their eyes was terrifying.

“They were on a drug raid next door. And they were sweeping everyone’s house. They just barged into our home. They didn’t even announce who they were or anything. Winston kept a revolver tucked beneath the cushions of the couch. He thought it was an intruder. Break-ins weren’t unheard of in our neighborhood. The cop he shot bled out on our living room floor.” My heart still ached for the man’s family. “He was a husband, a father. He had two young children. With his mixed race and background, Winston didn’t stand a chance. They sought the maximum sentence. He’d never even been arrested before that night. Never even had a speeding ticket. His only mission in life was to take care of me and get us both the hell out of there.”

“Listen to me,” Cannon raised the back of my hand to his lips where they remained for an unreasonable amount of time. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “He was protecting you. As a brother…that’s his job.”

His words didn’t offer sympathy or judgment…they only offered comfort and understanding.

Something I needed so desperately.

When he pulled his hand away, I found enough strength to draw a decent breath. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one, babe.” he said, making me smile.

Even though I didn’t want to.





Hope is a waking dream.

~Aristotle





Mile after mile took us closer to reality. Closer to the time when I would have to drop her off and go back home.

Alone.

I’ve never had a problem being alone. Being alone meant I didn’t have to share my past. Being alone meant I didn’t have to give more than I wanted to. But being alone right now didn’t seem so appealing to me. I didn’t want her to be alone. I didn’t want her to feel what I felt every single day.