Where’s the fun in keeping it all to yourself, when you can’t brag about it?

Now, the police have come and gone, I find it interesting there’s no mention of anything linking William to his dark past. No mention of the little bitch, no mention of any tapes. She has to have had help. His home must have been wiped clean.

How fucking convenient.

She got the upper hand.

Who else knows she was there?

I do not mourn him. The only thing I will regret is my monthly footage to watch of that little beauty. I was paid in cash, so there’s no link to me other than I’m his law-abiding lawyer. But then, I’m a lot of people’s lawyer. There was nothing strange about my working relationship with William Dupré...to the outside world.

Sitting down in my office chair, I put my feet up on my table, hold William’s file up, and can’t help smiling to myself. He really was a sick fuck, but a very organized one.

It’s time for me to play William’s last cards. I have some detective work to do first, and once that’s done, I will get out of Dodge for a while and lay low.

The orchestra is going to play William’s last song, and he is the conductor.

In other words, the shit is going to hit the fan.

William sure knew how to keep me entertained.

3 Months Later

I’ve spent three solid months at Miss C’s. Life has been quiet, peaceful, and there has been no danger lurking in the shadows waiting for me. I remain a secret, living under the town of Connard’s nose.

My superhero never came for me, but that’s okay. I feel better knowing it was all up to me in the end. I made the right choices and found people who I call family.

My past life is now locked away deep inside me. I only want to think about the present and how I have miraculously been granted freedom and a happiness I never knew was there for me.

To keep myself busy, I made a large vegetable garden for Miss C. It was something I knew how to do and it made me happy. I fenced it off and made a gate. Linc wanted to help me, but I needed to work the soil with my own hands and make it my own. Hard work never hurt anybody, and it was a soothing balm for my chapped and blistered mind.

Miss C would bring out freshly made lemonade for me while I worked away from morning to nightfall. Boxer and Linc got me the seeds I needed, and I became quite obsessed with filling that soil with them and caring for them. I made a flower garden for her as well.

I landscaped her backyard until I had no more room to dig and plant. It was therapeutic to my soul. It kept the boxes in my mind locked down tight. Soon, I will be able to start picking the fruits of my labor for her to enjoy.

I may not have had much more meat on dem bones, as Miss C calls them, but they are strong bones now. I have muscle, I’m tanned, and I work off everything Miss C tries to fill me up on.

I wanted to give something back to the old lady who has done nothing but care for me. She’s very special to me.

Boxer has taken on this father-like role. He is a good man, a loyal man. If I understood love, I think what I feel for Miss C and Boxer is on its way to being that. I want to be able to voice that one day to them. It upsets me if I can’t lay eyes on the both of them every day, even if it is just for a half-hour with Boxer. I can’t lose these two people who have made my life worth living.

They saved me, treated me right from the minute they laid eyes on me, and my respect for them has never been challenged.

Lincoln has become my friend. He makes me laugh. I could see how much he wanted to help me landscape Miss C’s property, but he also knew it was my thing that helped to keep my demons at bay. He watched me struggle with the fence posts, and I watched him having to hold himself back as I got blisters from stabbing the earth with my shovel and hammering every single post in by myself. I saw how proud he was of me when he dropped in to see how I was progressing.

Miss C would often sit on her back porch swing and watch me while she shelled her peas, rocking back and forth, an understanding look on her face. She knew I had to keep busy, and she knew I had to exhaust myself each and every day so the nightmares would be too tired to seek me out at night.

Miss Catherine got me to meet with Dr. Evelyn Castille for a check-up not long after I had arrived at her home. Dr. Castille came to the house because I couldn’t get in Boxer’s car to go to her. I tried, but the panic was all-consuming.

I had never had medical attention before, so I didn’t know what to expect. She wanted to take me for x-rays, but the most I would allow was blood to be taken. She got to prod me while she hummed to herself and made notes. I just lay there like a scared rabbit on my bed. She wasn’t too invasive; it was just a basic check-up. I wouldn’t have agreed to anything more at the time, and Boxer had told me she would only examine what I agreed to. I didn’t want to know if I had been raped. It was easier to lock it all down tight until I was ready. She hummed louder when she saw my lower back and the scarring left from William’s beatings.

I haven’t been able to set foot outside the perimeter of Miss C’s property, and I haven’t wanted to, but today is the day I will be taking that big step. I have gotten used to the comfort and safety her property has awarded me. I knew this day would come eventually, but I needed this time to myself, and now I’m ready.

Today, I’m going out with Boxer and Miss C to be shown around the town. I don’t have to get out of the car if I don’t want to. I’m not up for meeting people today, but I’m happy to find out about the place I live in and just drive. Miss C has packed us a lunch, and we are going on a ‘road trip,’ as she called it, for me to see a bit of Louisiana.

I’m putting on a face for these people who care for me. On the inside, I have to work every day to keep my past life tucked away. I know they all watch me for signs of any mental disturbance, but I’m not about to get locked away in an asylum.

I take every day as it comes, and look at the positives and ways for me to deal with my own anguish myself. I can’t change it. I’m trying to be well adjusted.

What’s done is done.

I have a future to look forward to.

5 Months Later

My bastard of a father is dead.

Thank fuck for that.

My hands shake a little as I read the letter from his lawyer, my rage for the man pouring out of my fingertips.

I was brought into this world by that bastard, who taught me how to grow a set at a young age. I’ve not seen the man in nearly twenty years. I had often thought about finding him and showing him exactly who I’ve become, but that’s no longer relevant.

I was lucky because I got out from under him when I was eleven years old. The bastard was blackmailed into releasing...

But that’s another story.

Over time, I’ve learned the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in the end. That seed was apparently already sown, or I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did.

His death had happened eight months ago, and it’d taken them a while to track me down. I’m surprised they found me because I sure as fuck didn’t want to be found. Now, some bitch named Whisper has my fucking shameful inheritance.