Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“There’s this part of me who knows all of this wasn’t for me, Davina. I have this life and this fame because I wanted to prove that motherfucker wrong. A lot of what fueled me was heart and passion for the game, yes, but what really got me going was the rage. I’d see my opponents on the court, and all of them had one face: my dad’s. I’d run circles around them. I’d prove my point, I’d win, and I’d walk away.” I felt my eyes getting hot, burning from the unshed tears.
“My mom managed to get him off of me and call the police, and this time he was locked up for a while. It was only eight years, but it was enough for us to uproot. When he was out, she divorced him, and I thought that would be the end of it. I thought we’d never have to see his face again, but here we are. About to have Thanksgiving with this motherfucker.”
“My goodness. I can’t imagine how scared you were or how much pain you were in over your brother, Deke. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I get why you don’t like talking about it now,” Davina said.
I shrugged. “The pain never left, honestly. Just got easier to manage.”
Her throat bobbed, and her eyes were lined with tears. One blink and they’d fall.
I huffed a humorless laugh. “The worst part is that, to this day, I don’t know if I’m angry at my brother for leaving me back then or envious that he escaped that hell.”
The tears dripped down Davina’s cheeks. She pulled her hand away to swipe at them, and I stood up, taking her hand and leading her to the couch.
I held her in my arms, and the emotion in my throat thickened. I was so close to crying, myself. I hadn’t cried about my brother in years, and didn’t want to start now. I wanted to be strong for Davina. I told my story, and now she knew. It was up in the air and off my chest, and frankly, I was relieved.
“Don’t cry for me, D,” I whispered in her hair. “I’m past all that.”
“No,” she muttered. “You’re not, Deke.” She sat up to look at me. “Listen to me. You’re an amazing person, okay? Your life is yours. You built this for yourself. You are talented and handsome and smart. Everyone loves you, Deke. Everyone wants to be you.”
“Yeah, but what they see isn’t the real me. That’s just a front I put on to prove I’m okay and to tell myself that my past will never define me.”
“It doesn’t have to define you, but you can’t run from it either. I see the real you, and I know your heart. You’re worthy, baby. You’re so worthy. Don’t let your dad or anyone else in this world tell you otherwise.”
I felt a hot streak fall down my cheek, and I closed my eyes as she used her thumb to swipe it away.
When I opened them again, I said, “This is why I could understand you and why I wanted to be patient with you. Because I know that pain. I live it every single day, and I know how hard it is to let people in when you’re hurting. It took me a while to step out of my shell when Damon died.”
“Thank you for that. Seriously.” She laid her head on my chest and was quiet for a few seconds. “Is that why you don’t like to be called by your real name? Why you corrected me every time when we first met?”
I had a feeling she already knew the answer to that, but I responded anyway. “Yeah. That’s why. When anyone calls me that, all I can hear is my dad shouting my name down the hallway. All I can remember is his hands around my throat, my brother’s blood on the mattress. You wanna talk about triggers? That fucking triggers me.”
She tilted her head back, peering up at me. “You can’t let him have your name. He took enough away from you. You were born with that. Don’t let him keep it.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “My mom says the same thing.”
“See? And if she raised you, I’m sure she’s a wise woman.”
I gave her a peck on the cheek before consuming her lips. When our mouths parted, I hugged her tight, because there was nowhere else I wanted to be than with her. Outside of my family and a few people who knew Damon, no one else was aware of his suicide, not even Javier. I’d purposely kept it buried when high school was over and never wanted to revisit it again, because when my dad was in jail, I worked on becoming a new man.