Page 26 of The Prodigy 2: Rise of a Queen

10

Malika

Iwenttomyknees in the brush, not caring at all that I was ruining my $300 jeans. I was in a daze, like the world had shifted around me and I hadn’t caught up to it yet.

The things Jakari had just said to me…it didn’t seem real. I saw his mouth moving, and I heard the words as they came out, but it took me several minutes to understand.

Nobody would joke like that. Right? That would have been preferable, though. I could have forgiven him for such a sick joke. Eventually. But this?

This was different.

This was unforgiveable.

He was right behind me, leaning his back against a tree as if he couldn’t support his own weight. I was on my knees in the dirt, right in front of my mother’s grave, apparently. A tear rolled down my cheek as the weight of it came down on me.

She wasgone.

Dead.

And not naturally.

She was taken out of this life. Taken from me. And my sister. And my father. And the thief was someone I knew. Someone I was now related to.

How the fuck was I supposed to process that?

Time passed right on by. I sat there until my knees ached, then I pulled my legs out from under me and sat on my butt directly on the dirt. It was my mind tricking me, I knew that, but I felt myself being pulled down, maybe by my mother’s spirit. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea, letting myself be pulled under. Because the pain I felt was unbearable. I wanted to die, too. Then maybe I’d see her again.

“Malika.”

I heard him just fine, but I didn’t move and I didn’t speak. I barely breathed.

He waited a while before approaching me. I tensed when I heard his footsteps, but strangely, I melted right into his arms when he wrapped them around me.

So muscular and strong. I felt safe at first, and then I remembered that these were the arms that picked up my mother’s body and placed it in a trunk. These arms dug a shallow grave in the woods thirty miles from her home, then heaved her in and covered her with dirt and rocks.

How many more signs did I need to tell me this man was dangerous?

I pushed his arms from around me. He backed up a little and watched me.

“Go back to the car.” I closed my eyes as a fresh wave of tears welled up. “Give me some time by myself.”

Without a word, he turned and walked away, his footfalls marked by the crunch of the leaves beneath them. Once it was quiet again, I stared down at the flowers and the mound of dirt that covered my mother and said a silent prayer that she was at peace and that she didn’t suffer. Then I told her about all the things she missed, and that I loved her.

It was peaceful out here, all things considered. Maybe…maybe her soul was resting. A grave is a grave, I think. But either way, this wouldn’t do for forever. The thought of leaving her out here made me ache.

Once I was sure I could stand, I climbed out of the dirt and balanced on unsteady feet. Somehow I made it back to the car where, despite the heat, Jakari was waiting for me at the passenger side door. Sweat poured down his face, and his hands were shaking.

“You ready?”

I nodded.

The ride home was completely silent. He didn’t even play any music, which was very much unlike him. But it was fine. I wouldn’t have heard it anyway.

Back at the apartment, it took every ounce of strength I had to climb the steps to the second floor. At the door, I leaned against the wall while Jakari fumbled to get his key in the lock. My head was still swimming. My heart still hurting. My soul still shattered. I was almost scared to go inside, because the way I was feeling at this moment…I might have gone searching for Jakari’s gun. Or guns. I briefly wondered if anybody had ever used two guns before. One at each temple. Bang. Pain free.

The creak of the door jarred me out of that thought. Kari raised his arm to tell me to go in, and I peeled myself off the wall to do just that. The air was on full blast, so it was chilly inside. I wrapped my arms around myself and made my way to the bedroom.

I had tunnel vision. My only goal was to make it to the bed without having to talk to Jakari. And thankfully, he seemed to understand that. He followed me, but not too close. He waited in the door while I undressed, but didn’t cross the threshold. And when I crawled under the covers and put my pillow over my face, he simply turned off the light and closed the door, leaving me to do what I had to do.

Grieve.

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