never saw us coming, because he was too busy showing off the deadly soldiers he’d taught us to be. We didn’t kill him. We set it up so that he was caught in Russia with cocaine and a bloody knife that had killed the son of a Russian mob boss. He is rotting away for the rest of his life in Petak Island Prison in White Lake, Russia.”
I lifted a brow. “I’ve heard about Petak and I’ve even watched a documentary on it. It’s like the Russian version of Alcatraz and depending on who you ask, a step up from hell.”
Arjen’s smile was laced with pride. “He’s been there for seven years now. We have recordings of some of his beatings, and my birthday gift to Khane one year, was a recording of him losing his left eye.”
He tucked me into his embrace, and I held on tight, returning the caress. I was learning my husband well enough to know that he was done talking. After a long while of us locked in a tight hug, he placed his lips to my forehead.
“Your turn, wife. I’m dying to know what foundation you were built from.”
His words made me go still. Was I ready to share the damaged pages of my chaotic life-script with Arjen?
29
Arjen
Mecca’s blank stare was focused on the wall, no doubt contemplating how much, if anything, she wanted to share with me. While nestled into me, she had gone rigid at my request to know more about her past. Her deep inhales and exhales had me squeezing her tighter, hoping she was preparing to tell me something.
“I ended up on Raymond’s doorstep a few months before I turned four. I don’t think the transition of where I had come from was bad even though, I don’t have anything but a hand full of memories of that time. Desiree and I were a few months apart in age, and I remember sharing a room with her. The first thing she did when I arrived was give me a hug. No matter how young my mind was, that was a memory I’d never forget, and one that makes me smile every time I think of it. I remember that we had bunk beds, but she would always crawl into the bottom bunk with me at night.”
The smile at the memory of her and her cousin made me smile. It didn’t take but a second of seeing the two together to know that they were close.
“My male cousins were a few years older, and for the most part, we all got along. Despite how he is now, Raymond actually tried to be a good father. He made sure there was always a decent caretaker with us while he worked. He took us to the park, made sure we were clothed, and fed. He’d even sit with Desiree and my cousins and help them with their homework. He didn’t have that same caring spirit towards me as he had with my cousins. There was no helping me with my homework and no kind of extra attention. His lack of attention seemed to make me try harder to prove to him that I didn’t need his help. He was closest to Desiree. She was always his little advisor, reminding him about things he’d forgotten.
“Raymond had a way with me that always made me feel like an outsider, even though my cousins treated me like I was a little sister. He was tough on me. I figured his behavior was because I wasn’t his biological child. Even though I was the youngest, Raymond drilled it in my head that I was responsible for protecting my cousins when he or the help wasn’t around. It was like he knew I could take the harshness of his attitude, the pain of an ass whipping, and any other emotional trauma that went along with being the protector.”
He was turning her into his soldier. The lack of showing her emotion and care was the number one sign.
“By the time I was seven, I was peddling crack, modeling myself after the bigger dope boys. I never received parental guidance or shared any emotional connection with Raymond other than him teaching me how to become a success at the dope game.”
She paused, and I could tell by the heaviness in her gaze that the weight of that world, past and present, never stopped pressing down on her.
“I went through every phase, cooking and cutting, packaging, selling, collection, and distribution, and