Clean Slate: Diva's Ink

by Liberty Parker

  “I love you too,” I pant out, between raspy breaths. He rolls over to his side and pulls me over to where I’m practically laying on top of him.

  “I’m so relieved that they’ve been caught, but I have this deep-rooted fear that they’ll manage to get away again,” he confides in me.

  “But they won’t, baby, I’ll tell you why I believe this to be true. When he escaped last time, he didn’t have the amount of people watching, and keeping an eye on him, nor her. She wasn’t even a blip on the radar, no one viewed her as a threat. They thought she was misguided and would move on. No one imagined that she’d see him as being right and want to get him out and help him plot his revenge. She’s sick, Marcus. She sees him as some sort of God to be worshipped, she needs help and I hope that she gets that where she ends up. The way she’d look at him, and do his every bidding, isn’t normal—it’s tragic. This time around, though, we will all be keeping tabs on where they are and making sure they stay put where they belong.”

  “I know that here,” he says, pointing to my head, “but here,” he pounds his fist on his chest, “I’m scared.”

  “After everything that’s happened today alone, that’s understandable. But we have to keep living, we have to keep moving forward. Our daughter needs us to show her how it’s done.”

  “Our daughter,” he says under his breath. “I love her as if she is my own, but she’s not, she’s Sherry’s baby girl. I hate that I have to, in a way, take his place. He should be here, alive and raising her. I can’t help but wonder if she’ll feel that loss deeply, or if we’ll somehow be able to soothe that ache that will grow in her chest.”

  “She may not carry our blood in her veins, Marcus. But we’re honoring her parents’ wishes and raising her as if she does. She deserves that, we don’t want to look at her with sorrow, and force her to feel the loss that you feel. We need to let her be a kid, wrap her in our love and guide her the way our parents did us. We’ll treat her no differently than we would if she was our own.”

  “No we won’t,” he agrees. “One day we’ll tell her about them, but until that day comes, we’ll love her hard and she’ll never feel the difference of not having her biological parents raising her. I know I need to stop thinking the things that I do, but I worry so much about how accepting she’ll be once she learns the truth.”

  “She’ll accept us, Marcus, because we stepped up. We never once thought about abandoning her or letting the state place her in a home. For that alone, she’ll respect us and know how deeply we care and love her.”

  “We sure are using and thinking the word love a lot,” I tease her.

  “That’s because our heart is full. There is no stronger word written that describes the way we feel about each other or our family. That one word is what helps people feel. It helps us develop and find our happily ever after’s.”

  “I know I’ve definitely found mine,” I tell her.

  “Ditto, baby,” she says, giving me a wink and suddenly, I find myself hard once again.

  “You ready for round two, Em?”

  “Hell yeah I am,” she says, and squeals when I roll her on her back and attack her with my hands and mouth.

  Chapter 19

  Emory

  The most treasured gift is the smile I wake up to every morning…

  Six months later…

  “In the case of Krista Black, the state of Texas finds you guilty of helping in a prisoner escape, kidnapping and interfering with a federal investigation. Sentencing to be carried out as following, six consecutive years for kidnapping to be followed up with no parole hearing. In the case of helping a prisoner escape custody, ten years will be added for that offense. For interfering with a federal investigation that holds a sentence of five years. This gives a total of twenty-one years to be served. Parole hearing cannot take place until after the initial six-year sentence has been carried out, at Huntsville Penitentiary for Women, and then it is to the discretion of the parole board to decide if you have been reformed.”

  The judge takes a breath then says, “Miss Black, I truly hope, while you’re behind bars, that you take advantage of the services that are available to you. You need the psychological courses, and you need to speak with a psychiatrist or therapist. I’ll even offer counseling services to you. You need help, young lady, this man has you brainwashed, and I hope that you can come to see that one day. He does not deserve your devotion, or your help in any of his escapades. I truly believe you are not well, or I would’ve thrown the book at you, and given you the harshest sentence available to me. I should…no, I will make it a mandate of parole for you to have completed classes, and fifty hours of counseling, or therapy. Your sentence is to be carried out immediately, and no time served while awaiting your court appearance will be applied. I will personally speak to the parole board and let them know of my recommendations and highly give my opinion that you shouldn’t be considered for release unless all of my conditions have been met. Good luck to you, young lady.”

  Then he turns his attention towards Branson. “As for you, Augustus Branson. I find you guilty of murder, vandalism, kidnapping, escape from custody and arson. For the murder of at least ten known people, Carolina Sheridan, Corporal Steven Sheridan, Lieutenant Meredith Leeson, Douglas Reardon, Captain Craig Rashad, Layton Riverdale, Sidney Smith, Corporal Shawn Silver, David Cronick Jr. and Captain LeRoy Donnell. You are to carry out a life sentence in Leavenworth, where you will be heavily guarded. I have been informed you will have no access to a phone, letters…neither receiving or sending. No library time to where you’d have access to a computer, in other words, Mr. Branson, you will have no amenities offered to you. For the arson, escape, vandalism and kidnapping, I combined these charges and have offered a second life sentence, per my discretion. You, Mr. Branson are a lost cause and a drain on society. No parole will be offered to you, you will serve these two life sentences consecutively. You will die a lonely existence, as it should be. Your guards are here to escort you. Sentence begins immediately, and you will not be offered any time served.”

  He bangs his gavel and calls out, “You are dismissed.” He raises from his chair and walks through a door that was behind his bench. I’m assuming that is where his chambers are.

  “Remind me to send him a basket of baked treats,” I lean over and tell Marcus.

  “Sure, baby,” he says, but his eyes aren’t on me, they’re on Branson as he’s escorted out. Branson notices Marcus’ eyes trailing him, and he gives him a sadistic smile. “I hate that son of a bitch,” Marcus says.

  “Me too,” I say, as I notice Branson’s eyes have now traveled to me, and the kiss he blows my way has my entire body shivering in disgust.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Rainey says to us, “that guy gives me the creeps.”

  “Here-here,” Ariel states. I smile at my sisters, thankful that this has been put to rest, and we can carry on with our lives.

  We get in Marcus’ truck, but I notice we aren’t driving in the direction of home. “Where are we going?” I ask him.

  “I just need to see it with my own two eyes,” he answers.

  Confused by his statement, my brows and nose crunch up, but I soon understand what he means when we pull up to the back bay, and watch as Branson is put in, rather roughly, causing me to squeal out in delight. His eyes light up with my sound and we watch as two separate vans drive away, one holding Krista and the other one Branson.

  “Come on, baby, let’s go home,” I say to him, squeezing his hand with mine.

  Marcus

  Three weeks later…

  Two weeks ago, Shyann’s adoption was finalized. She carries my last name, and her birth certificate now reflects me as her father, and Emory as her mother. It was both heartbreaking and gave me a sense of relief at the same time. To have Sherry’s name no longer show up made me need some time alone, to which Emory gave me gracefully. That day, I was thankful that I gave in and signed the guardianship paperwork that Steven and Carolina asked m
e to. At the time, I never thought anything would come of it, but now that it has, I can’t imagine my life without her or Em in it. They are my rock, my salvation, and I can’t be happier than on those mornings I’m home and wake up to their shining faces.

  Today it’s just me and Shyann having some father and daughter bonding time, seeing as her mother is finalizing the final touches on our wedding, which happens to be tomorrow. I decide to take her to the park to expunge some energy, she’s eight months old now, and I know that may still be too young to take to the local park, but I want to walk her around the trails and maybe push her in some swings. They have the swings for toddlers that have holes for the legs to go through…good enough for me. She can hold her head up and is stable while doing so, I’m excited to find out if she enjoys swinging in something other than the one made for the house.

  We pull up to the park and Shyann is babbling away in the backseat. I look back and am filled to the rim with love and joy at how happy she is. You’d never know that she suffered at the hands of a madman. She’s full of smiles and laughter and I couldn’t ask for anything more than that. I get out of the truck and pull her stroller from the bed of the truck, it takes me awhile, but I finally figure out how to set it up and I get her out of the back seat and sit her in it and buckle her up. I doubt she’d go anywhere, but you never know, and I personally don’t want to explain to Emory any boo-boo’s she may receive from my lack of checking things out completely. She’s a mama bear, through and through, when it comes to our baby girl and her well-being.

  We leisurely walk the trails, and a sense of peace overwhelms me. I feel like I should be doing something, anything, other than taking a day off. But then again, I’ve never had a chance to sit back and just enjoy a peaceful day with my daughter. Something I am willing to take advantage of, because when we leave for our honeymoon, we won’t be taking her with us. Which is why our getaway will consist of three days only…Emory’s insistence, not mine.

  Once I’ve made my way around the entire length of the trails I walk us over to the swings. Once she’s settled I begin to lightly push her and she laughs, she catches me off guard because I’ve never heard her laughter be this strong and loud. I soon find that it’s contagious and join her. My girls are the only ones who could ever get me to laugh in this manner. I know she’s just a baby and doesn’t understand the words I’m fixing to tell her, but for some reason, I feel the need to say them to her.

  “Shyann, I just wanted to tell you, that even though you aren’t biologically mine or your mom’s, we love you as if you were. I promise you that when we begin to have more children, they won’t be any more loved or cherished than you will be. You will never experience a loveless upbringing. One day, when we tell you about your parents, I hope you’ll still love us as much as the day before we reveal that information to you. I promise you that I will be the best daddy you could ask for, I’ll probably spoil you just a tad too much, but never enough to make you selfish or overly spoiled. You’re daddy’s princess, baby girl, and that will never change. I know you don’t understand a word I’m saying, but I’m hoping you can feel the joy in my voice, because that’s what you bring to my heart on a daily basis. You and your mom are everything to me, you’re the reason I wake up every morning, the reason I work as hard as I do, and the reason I find myself laughing more than I ever did. I love you, Shyann.” I hope that Emory’s generous heart and love shine bright upon this little girl, and she becomes the best that she can be.

  Emory

  My sisters, mom and myself have just finished decorating for the reception. I didn’t want a big wedding, only our family and a few close friends in attendance. I did, however, give in and give my approval for a big reception. I’ve never been one to enjoy being thrust into the spotlight. I’m not big on fanfare, but for my family and friends I’m willing to do so, for an hour or two—tops. I’m trying not to sacrifice my wishes for this and didn’t allow them to go too much overboard with decorations and such. Which is why I had to be here to supervise, if I’d left it up to them, the entire place would look like it vomited lace.

  “Let’s go grab something to eat, I’m starving,” Rainey says.

  “I could eat, but first I need to pump. My breasts are sore and full of milk,” Ariel informs us.

  “Too much information,” I reply. “I do not need to know this, it’s just creepy as hell.” I shiver at the thought of those torturous devices stuck to her boobs.

  “Are you against breastfeeding?” Mom asks me.

  “No, not at all. But the thought of having that machine suck my nipples as far as they can extend, and then extract milk, just hurts thinking about.”

  “It’s not painful, I swear it isn’t. Maybe a little uncomfortable at times, especially when they’re full. Otherwise, you barely realize it’s happening.”

  “I call bullshit,” I tell her. She smiles at me and walks off towards the bathroom with a bag in tow.

  “Well, I guess we’ve gotta wait around for her to empty out,” Rainey says, causing me to snicker. Mom gives us her motherly glare and we both stop dead in our tracks. That look came with many groundings and spankings while we were growing up. I’m pretty sure she thinks she still has the authority to bend us over objects and whip our heineys good and raw. Makes me want to rub my backside at some of those memories.

  “Don’t forget we’ve got an appointment with Stacey in the morning to get your hair done, Emory.” I nearly whine out loud at her statement, I am not like the typical every day woman, I don’t like people messing with my hair. It’s long, shiny and black, all one color. My natural color and I don’t want anyone changing a thing about it. I cry when I have to go get a trim, and my mom wants me to get some kind of up do or design. I’d prefer to just brush it out and let it hang, Marcus likes my hair just as it is, and why mess with perfection anyways?

  “Can’t I just wear it down like always?”

  “This is your wedding day, Emory dear. Let your mother have her day,” she says, Rainey and I look at each other and I can tell she’s thinking the same thing as I am. Her day? I thought it was mine!

  “Now, message me on where you’re having dinner and I’ll meet you there. I need to go pick your dress up and grab your bouquet.”

  “Wait a minute, Mom? What dress? I have my outfit hanging in the closet ready, so please explain to me what dress it is that you’re talking about?”

  “You are not wearing jeans to your wedding!” she says, gripping her chest as if her heart is breaking or attacking her from the inside out.

  “Why not? They’re white and new! Marcus is wearing jeans. I even went out and purchased a nice top to wear.”

  “A white top with a pink skull is not something I want to share with my grandchildren one day when we’re looking over your wedding album. Trust me dear, you’ll thank me one day,” she says, gathering her purse and walking out the door. I guess this discussion is over with.

  “The fuck?” I ask Rainey.

  “You’re asking me? This is the first I’ve heard of it or I would’ve told you.”

  “Which is exactly why she didn’t say anything to anyone,” I huff out. I guess I’m wearing a dress, I hate dresses!

  Ariel comes out of the bathroom and stops and looks at us. “What? What happened?” she asks, worriedly.

  “Mom!” I shout out.

  “Enough said, let’s go get a margarita. Where is your mother anyways?” she asks me.

  “Mine? Why only mine?”

  “Because when she does something stupid or interfering, I don’t claim her,” Ariel says, on a chuckle.

  “Rainey’s the youngest, she can claim her. And to answer your question she went to pick up my dress.”

  “What dress? You hate wearing dresses.”

  “Exactly!” I call out. See my sisters know and would never try to change me, even for a day.

  “My mother?” Rainey is just now catching on, “I don’t freaking think so, y’all aren’t strapping me with her
crazy ass while y’all go about living your lives. Oh hell to the no!” We all head out of the banquet hall, arm in arm and laughing hysterically. I love my sisters!

  Chapter 20

  Marcus

  When I fall in love, it will be forever, at least until I draw my last breath…

  Last night was God awful, the girls decided they’d all stay at a hotel so the guys all camped out at my house. I don’t know if they were afraid I’d flee or what, but I’m here to tell you the thought never crossed my mind, not even for a moment. We sat around playing poker, drinking beer and watching the fishing pros championship. Fish landing violations, that’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard of. They’d have to sit out for two freaking minutes if the fish touched the boat in any fashion. I’d be sitting on my ass for the entire event if I was competing! Anyways, any time one of the men had one, we took a shot. We ended up drunker than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  Then the bad part of the evening happened, I had to go to bed without my girl at my side. I miss her when I’m at work, but I’ve never had to sleep without her in our own bed for goodness sakes. I crawl out of bed, literally, with the world spinning, and make my way to the bathroom for my shower. I am barely upright when there’s banging on the door…and then I hear, “Two hours asshole, that’s how long you’ve got until we have to meet the women at the courthouse to get you hitched!” Dillon calls out, and I want to growl at him, because he’s the one who had the bright idea to add shots to the night’s agenda. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be feeling like a normal person instead of waking up with a hangover from hell on the most important day of my life.