Page 485 of Savage Bosses

Tears sprang from Deja’s eyes. “Oh my god, that was you?”

“Surprised?” he asked as he slammed the glass on the table. “I need to get out of here. I will…,”

Deja sprang from the sofa and blocked his exit. Her tears were flowing so heavily that it clouded her sight. “Wait,” she said as she stood in front of him. “Please, we need to talk about this.”

“There isn’t shit I need to say to you about that day.” He pushed past her and headed towards the door.

“Stephen, it wasn’t me,” she yelled, then repeated it softly.

Stephen turned to face her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It wasn’t me,” she whispered through her tears. “It was my sister.” She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “That was my sister who hurt you. Please Stephen, can we talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?”

She ran her hand softly down his arm. “Please, Stephen.”

He had to admit that her touch calmed the rage that was building inside.

“Please, we need to talk,” she pleaded.

She touched his hand, and he melted under her touch. They walked back to the sofa and Stephen sat as Deja grabbed the bottle of bourbon and filled both of their glasses.

“I need to tell you something.” She took a gulp of her drink and turned her body to face him. “I remembered when that happened. I was a year younger than my sister. She was in tenth grade, and I just started ninth grade. One day I came home, and my mother was yelling at my sister, asking her what did she do. She said it wasn’t her, it was the guys from the football team. She told my mother that they paid her to befriend you. One of the guys on the football team was jealous of you because you were smart, and he felt like you slighted him in a class by answering a question he couldn’t, and the class laughed at him.

“I don’t remember that.”

She gave him a slightly sympathetic smile. “Why would you? It was so minor, but in the mind of a teenage jock who barely made the grades to stay on the football team, it was a big deal and he wanted to get back at you.” She shrugged. “They were high schoolers; it didn’t have to make sense. Anyway, they paid my sister twenty bucks to get you behind the school that day.” She took another sip of her drink. “She felt bad about what happened to you.”

“She never fucking reached out to apologize,” he said through his teeth.

“My mother put her on punishment. She was only allowed to go to school and come home. When she was finally able to admit her part in your attack. She tried to call your cell phone, but it didn’t work. She tried to get your address from the school, but the school said you moved away, and they wouldn’t give her any more information on you.

Stephen clinched his jaw but remained silent.

The next year, she was killed in a horrific car accident. My mother couldn’t take being in Philly anymore, so we moved to Chicago with my aunt.”

Deja’s tears were flowing freely, and Stephen felt like a jerk. He rubbed her back as she continued to cry.

Now it made since why the last name matched up, but he remembered a different first name.He thought that was another memory he blocked. “I’m sorry Deja,”

“No, I’m sorry for what Asia did to you,” she took another gulp of her drink.

Asia, that was her name.

Stephen listened, his expression stoic but attentive.

“I had a hard time dealing with my sister’s death, so my mother home schooled me for the rest of high school, and I didn’t go to college right away. I couldn’t seem to get myself out of bed. I missed Asia so much, but everyone kept telling me I needed to snap out of it and move on with my life, but I couldn’t. She was my best and only friend.” She looked up at him with glassy eyes.

Stephen pulled her into a hug, and she began to cry again. He held her tight as she cried. Eventually, she pulled out of his embrace. “I’m sorry. I haven’t cried like that in several years. I also hadn’t thought about her death in a while.” Her lips quivered as she tried to hold back more tears. “I miss her so much.” Using the pads of her fingers, she wiped her tears. “I’m sorry, I know you went through a lot with being hospitalized.”

“It was more than being hospitalized.” Stephen shook his head as he took a gulp of his drink. “I understand more than you know about the pain of loss,” he whispered. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “When I was 16, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. We tried everything - chemo, radiation, experimental treatments. But after two painful years, the cancer spread. Our only option was to continue the treatments and pray for a miracle.” Stephen's voice grew hoarse with emotion. “That day when I met Asia behind the school and was attacked. It was the same day as my mother’s chemo treatment. Instead of being with her, I was in the hospital. She came and stayed with me all night. She slept in the chair all night and never woke up. She just slipped away. My last words to her were 'I love you.'“

He paused, taking a shaky breath as he relived the painful memories. “After she died, I was lost. Angry at the world, at God, at your sister and the guys who put me in the hospital, but mostly at me. After my mother’s funeral, I went to live with my aunt in Florida and went through a reckless phase that nearly ruined my life.” Looking up at Deja, Stephen gave her a sad smile. “Losing someone so close changes you. It leaves a hole in your soul that can never be filled. I know the pain you carry, because I carry it too.” He reached over and ran his hand along her cheek. “But I need to let my anger and pain go so that I can move forward.”

Deja closed her eyes and leaned into his touch before resting her head on his shoulder. She held his hand as they allowed the silence to calm their mood as she felt the first stirrings of peace. Not the absence of pain - that would never fully fade - but the comfort of having someone to share it with. Someone who understood.

A tear rolled down Deja's cheek and she was the first to break the silence. “Afterwards, I was consumed with bitterness. Angry at life's cruelty. I shut everyone out, nearly shut down completely. If not for my mother's support and strength, I don't know how I would have survived those dark years after losing her.” Deja met Stephen's eyes. “Losing Asia left a hole in my heart. A piece of me died with her. But sharing this with you - it helps. Helps to know someone understands the depth of my pain. Maybe someday we can find a way to heal, to feel whole again.”

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