The Reinvention of the Rose - Christina C. Jones Page 0,43

full-grown to me,” he sneered.

“You stay the fuck away from her,” I lobbed right back at him, stepping fully into his face, not giving a shit about a size or height difference. “She’s thirteen years old. I will kill you myself.”

“You won’t do sh--AYY, what the fuck!” He shrieked, backing up as I brandished a blade in his face. “Yo, what’s your problem?”

“You, and niggas like you are my problem,” I explained, looking at the others too. “Maybe if you’re worried about getting your dick filleted, you’ll learn how to leave people alone.”

“You ain’t gone do nothing with that,” the ringleader claimed, boldly taking a step back in my direction. I didn’t hesitate - I sliced through the front of his tee shirt, giving just enough pressure to touch his skin.

To prove a point.

The peanut gallery all started shouting, two of them taking off running at the sight of the tiny bit of blood I’d drawn.

Pussies.

“You really fucking cut me!”

I shrugged, frowning at the soiled blade. “I really fucking did. You may wanna find some fucking business before I take another slice.”

To emphasize my point, I fake lunged at him, and just like the bitch I knew he was, he flinched, then he and the other fool took off running too.

Predictable.

I turned back to the store to find Kiara staring out the window, having watched the whole exchange.

“Wow. You’re such a badass,” she gushed as I entered the shop, locking the door behind me. “You really are an assassin, aren’t you?”

“Do those guys always bother you like that?” I asked, avoiding the question.

“Not always. I take a different way home every day, so nobody can figure out my routine.”

Smart girl.

“Do you know them?”

“Not really, besides seeing them around the neighborhood sometimes. They’re always saying stuff to me,” she admitted, in a clearly uncomfortable tone as she gripped the straps of the hot pink backpack that matched her braces.

Which really pissed me off.

There was no way to mistake this little girl for anything other than exactly that - a little girl.

Not that “looking older” than her age would make the behavior okay, but the headband, hot pink everything, and obvious youth in her face made it feel so much more insidious.

“Have you said anything to your parents? To…your father?” I asked, propping a hip against a display as I waited for her answer.

“Daddy would kill him. All of them,” she answered, her tone so matter of fact that it almost felt like “duh bitch are you stupid?”

And maybe I was, for asking that question at all, when the answer was far from surprising.

“Well yeah…he’d try to make sure they didn’t bother you anymore.”

Kiara shook her head, taking it upon herself to remove her backpack and take a seat on an empty counter. “He wouldn’t try. He’d make sure.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

“He’d have to go away again, and I like it a lot better when he’s here. When I can see him.”

Oh.

Right.

I’d only known Tristan a short time, so had no experience coping with him being deployed - Kiara and her mother had been the ones managing the care packages and video calls and all that - assuming he’d even been allowed any of those.

They’d definitely had to manage the fear that he might not actually make it back home.

“So you just…take it? Because you’re scared of what might happen if you tell somebody?”

She shrugged. “What else can I really do? They never touch me or anything, and I’ve always been able to get away from them so they can’t follow me all the way home.”

“So you think.”

Her eyes went wide over my correct - but likely terrifying - input. “I didn’t think they were smart enough for something like that.”

“Probably not,” I assured her. “But diligence is important either way. You can’t be too careful. And you should definitely say something to someone. Maybe your mom?”

“You met my mom. She’s more likely to wind up in jail than daddy.”

Yeah, that tracks.

“I get it, Kiara. But… You have to tell someone. In case - God forbid - something happens.”

Her big brown eyes came to me, blinking hard. “I’m telling you.”

I frowned. “No. I’m not… You’re not... I… Your Dad and I aren’t even together,” I blurted. “So... I probably shouldn’t be the person to hold this information for you.”

Kiara raised an eyebrow at me. “Really? I mean I knew he was all sad and stuff, and my mom cussed him out, but I figured everybody would get over it. I thought