Page 9 of Dali: The Demolisher

Kassadee

Later that Night

I knew exactlywho was coming into my home in the middle of the night. Despite my request for time and space, Kennessy wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew I was okay. Since Siri couldn’t talk him out of coming over, she’d called and warned me that he was on his way. I quickly wiped away the tears that had slid down my cheeks. It didn’t matter how much time had passed—nights like tonight always triggered me and took me back to the night my college roommate was brutally murdered.

My brother’s steps were heavy as he stepped inside of my bedroom. It wasn’t hard for him to find me, since this was the only space that had a light on. I was seated in the egg chair on my balcony, looking out into the picturesque midnight sky and mountain view.

He took the empty seat next to me and cleared his throat. “I can’t rest until you do, sis.”

“I told you I was fine.”

I saw him look at the side of my face out of the corner of my eye. I’d been home long enough to shower and wash my hair. It was my plan to drink a bottle of Port and pass out, but thoughts of Camila had temporarily paralyzed me. All I’d been doing was sitting here crying.

“We might not be twins, but we’re close enough for me to feel your energy, Kassadee. I know you’re not all right.”

That was true. He was three years older than me, but our birthdays were in the same month, and our personalities were similar. I think all siblings went through that phase where they hated each other, especially brothers and sisters, but when we got past that, Kennessy and I became inseparable. Even when I wanted to hide things from him, I couldn’t. He wasn’t just my big brother; Kennessy was an extension of me. An extension of me that made my life so much better.

Licking the corner of my mouth, I fought back my tears.

“I know I can’t fix this…” His head shook and hung. “I can’t take away that pain. But I’m here, Kas.”

Sniffling, I wiped away my tears and released a shaky breath. “I just… feel like I should be over this by now. Like… Why is this still bothering me? How long is it going to take before I feel normal again?”

Kennessy didn’t respond right away. He took my hand into his and rubbed it with his thumb.

“You are normal, sis. It’s normal to grieve and be triggered. What you saw… that could break and taint even the strongest of people. You might not ever forget that situation, and that would be absolutely okay.” He paused and released a heavy breath. “I won’t apologize for defending you, ever, but I do apologize for triggering you. In that moment, I wasn’t thinking about Camila. I saw that nigga violate you and I wanted off with his fucking head.”

“I know, and even though it messed with me, I really do appreciate y’all. I’m blessed to have people in my life that look out for me. That’s what makes me feel even worse. I shouldn’t be sad because I was protected, but all I can think about is her. Then I think about Brandon and hate him even more. He ruined me that night and it feels like there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Before I could stop them, my tears started to pour even more rapidly.

Camila was one of three girls I shared an apartment with on campus my senior year. Siri shared the apartment with us along with Tiffany. We all got along well and built a genuine friendship. We had our catty moments here and there but the only thing that ever caused serious issues was Camila’s toxic relationship with Brandon. They spent their days fucking and their nights fighting. It got so bad that we sat her down for an intervention.

Nothing we said or did worked. Camila was blindly in love, or at least that’s what we thought. And maybe it was love… but it was fear too.

It was during our spring break that we learned their relationship had taken a violent turn. The rest of the girls and I had planned to go to Florida for the week. We missed our flight and decided to drive the next day, so we went back to the apartment and heard the grunts, screams, and smacks of Camila’s body against the wall.

We went to break it up immediately and Brandon left. She swore that was the first time it happened and that she was done with him, but that wasn’t true. We tried to convince her to press charges against him, but she didn’t. While Tiffany and Siri wanted to change roommates, I wanted to keep Camila close to ensure her safety.

For a while, Brandon was on his best behavior. A couple of months later, bruises on Camila’s ribs and back appeared. Thenit was a busted lip and black eye. At that point, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I told her if she didn’t press charges against him that I would. That enraged him. He was upset with her for putting me in their business. Brandon beat her to the point where she was barely recognizable, and only then did Camila realize how unsafe their relationship was.

I felt so guilty.

Even though I knew it was for the best that she be away from him, I hated that he’d hurt her so badly because of me. Still, I figured the worst was over. She’d broken up with him and pressed charges, and Brandon was arrested.

Unfortunately, we didn’t realize how tight of a hold Brandon had on Camila. While he was awaiting his trial, he was writing Camila and talking to her on the phone. It took sixty-three days for him to see a judge, and on that day, Camila testified and said he wasn’t the man that attacked her. The charges being dropped put a battery in Brandon’s back. He got cocky and convinced himself he could do just about anything and she would stay with him.

By the end of the year, the beatings had stopped but he’d been cheating like crazy. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she broke up with him, and that’s what took him over the edge. I walked in on him literally beating her to death. I tried to stop him, but he was too strong. He ended up hitting me and knocking me out. By the time I came to, he was gone, and Camila was dead.

For years, guilt consumed me. It didn’t matter how much therapy I had or how many pastors my parents made me talk to. Them telling me I did all I could and it wasn’t my fault meant nothing to me.

Dali ended up going pro and I could barely stomach his matches because they were so triggering. As much as I wanted to support him, I eventually had to stop going. If I didn’t havea physical reaction, my anxiety flared. It became too difficult for me to separate what he did professionally from what happened to Camila. When I saw him in that ring, it wasn’t him and a willing opponent—it was Camila and Brandon as she literally fought for her life.

I think that was what angered me the most. Losing Camila hurt like hell, but I felt like Brandon had taken Dali from me too. I couldn’t be with a boxer because of the abuse I saw Camila endure. I couldn’t go to his matches and support him. I couldn’t tend to his wounds without seeing hers. It became too much, and I started to withdraw from the one man that had always been the safest space for me. It didn’t matter how softly and gently Dali handled me… if I saw him angry or aggressive, or any man for that matter, it triggered me.

It was a different kind of torture allowing the past to have this kind of power over me. The kind of power to keep me away from the first man I ever loved romantically. Cursing under my breath, I stood and leaned against the railing.

“You know there’s nothing he can ever do to hurt you or any other woman again, right?” Ken reminded me. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, sis. I’d die before I let that happen.” He stood and made his way next to me. “I would literally give my life for you.” Slowly, he turned me to face him. “I can’t get into your heart and mind, but if you tell me what I can do to help you, I promise I’ll do it.”

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