****
Turnup for this book is so poor like not encouraging at all, where did everybody go. 😣😤😢😨

***
"Grab my hand I'm drowning
I feel my heart pounding,
Why haven't you found me yet?
I hold you so proudly,
Traumas they surround me.
I wish you'll just love me back" Trauma by NF

****

Jason has always liked his life easy or so he thought.

"Ah!" he exclaimed with a tired sigh while dumping all his military tech gear on the table in the situation room. They all just returned from Istanbul, Turkey where the mission landed Hameed in the hospital. It was a light bullet graze to his upper arm and all he wanted to do now was have this debriefing meeting and breathe.

The moment he switched on his personal line he saw the mail, suddenly all the anger of waiting hours for her at that mall didn't seem to matter so much anymore. He found himself wondering if he could see her face as she read the mail.

Slow down homie.

Quickly replying her mail, he was drifting from the lecture Colonel was giving. Once again found himself waiting for her reply, one of the perks of being a tech guru was he loved to chat, he preferred phone conversations to real ones, the screen was his haven.

All of a sudden she stopped responding and he tapped his feet impatiently against the floor board as thoughts creeped  into his head.

He wanted to know more but he knew very little and she was no more answering his mails.

He killed his phone screen putting it face down and tried to concentrate on what the Colonel was saying.

Pictures from the projector on the electric board about their next target looked like a blur to him. He drummed his fingers on the table and tried to concentrate but after failing again he checked his phone screen for another notification but received none.

After the debrief ended and he exchanged peasantries with the guys who all went home. He set up his laptop in front of him.

"Elizabeth Serena Brown" he echoed as he typed her name in to search.

This girl was like a ghost. The earliest social media Last seen was 3 months ago.

Does she live under a rock or what?

There was almost nothing about her on general search. No one was this clean and aloof except someone wanted it to look that way.

Mysterious girl, I like.

In the spur of the moment before  his sense of reasoning could take over he entered her name in the FBI database.

Jason knew he shouldn't have done what he was about to do. It  was wrong yet he knew there was no going back.

The thing with information is that, you think you're safe but ordinarily signing up for an account was putting up so many details about you online.

He flipped his wallet open where he kept her hospital ID card close to his and stretched his fingers. He ignored the guilty ass feeling sitting in his chest. He found himself wanting to know her more and doing it the only way he knew how.

He was about to cyber stalk and hack all her records.

Twenty minutes later and a lot of prints later, his exhaustion was tripled and all his team members left already.

"9 year old Elizabeth Serena Brown stabs her step father multiple times to the abdomen after 4 years of constant abuse."_ The newspaper headline read.

This particular news was deleted barely few hours after the post was up.

Holy shit!

He knew he should stop right now, but he found himself reading through her hidden records only one newspaper carried the news.

He also found out that she was from a wealthy London family who buried the news as much as they could. Celebrity stylist and Designer mother who herself came from old sugar mill money. Her family was the one percent of London, born out of wedlock at 19.

Jesus Christ!

All these information was making his head ache and his heart hurt. To know that someone so young has been through that, rage was slowly filling his veins.

Paedophiles deserved to die a slow miserable death, what do you look for in the body of young children?

How does it arouse you?

Is it the fear in their eyes?

Or their muffled screams?

Suddenly feeling the weight of all he read he found his head spinning, cutting the only picture online he saw of her off the print he found himself wanting to help her, hell he just wanted to hold her hand.

Jason tucked the picture into his wallet, he found it strange how much he had already. An old picture, ID card and a stocking.

.
.
.
.

One year later.

New Jersey.

Liz.

"Hey bebe" once the call connected.

"Liz you need to take these twins from my hands a little while, I need to sleep. I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted" Pamela exclaimed.

I chuckled a low laugh. All hail the drama Queen.

"Not today sister. They are your children and you decided to be a chicken and leave your husband in Nigeria so leave me out of your problems." I replied clicking my tongue against the roof my tongue.

Hissing loudly, "What a supportive friend you are."

"I know dear, I am awesome."

"Do you know the meaning of sarcasm or you just don't care?" her carefree laughter rang out followed by a crash which must have come from one or both of her kids.

Those children were trouble, last week Daniella had emptied my make up kit on her face all shadows of colours.

My always white wall was filled with marker stains. I made the mistake of giving t them candy last time after they bribed me.

Those children were mini terrorists. They only had to turn their eyes that turned her into muddle puddles on her and boom she was eating out of their hands.

I exhausted my self trying to calm them down from the sugar high they got which wasn't funny at all.

"Did you know last time your daughter told my new neighbour he looked scary and ugly? She also ruined my make up kit. Daniel had this idea in his head to fly his plane on my walls, they emptied juice on my white couch. Do you know how much it cost to have that stained removed?" I asked.

A small laugh followed "was the man actually ugly?" She asked.

"So that is the only thing you got from my last statement?" I shook my head and smiled too because I know Ella got her smart mouth from her mother.  To be fair he had so much tattoos and piercing with long dreads he dyed blonde.

He did look ugly, but she was wrong to have walked up to him and told him plus how did a child of barely 4 know what ugly means?

"Alright fine. Anything your kids break you are definitely going to pay." I said sternly.

"Super story." She responded laughing and ended the call.

Super story indeed.

I got up and plugged my ears with my headphone allowing NF's song Trauma wash over me. Filling up my tray with an apple, vegan lasagna and a bottle of water I settled down to eat.

I picked up the napkin to wipe the cutlery clean and the edges of the plate. I was a low key Germophobic which is weird cause I work in a hospital.

Lunch was a slow affair of me eating, playing my NF album and ignoring everyone around me. I made small talk with some few nurses when the stopped by my table but that was all. I preferred my peace and quiet anyway

The journey back to my office was cut short when I heard my name "Elizabeth," the voice called out.

A long time ago she used to call me moon pie but it was so long ago now, she never called me Liz or beth it was always Elizabeth to the beauty queen.

"Mother." One word that left a bitter taste on my tongue.

"We need to talk!" She exclaimed, adjusting her channel bag around her elbow.

Veronica Brown was truly beautiful and the years have been kind to her. Her one mistake was having me so early for her black boyfriend and bringing down the wrath of the Brown empire on her. For a while she struggled trying to raise me up but finally gave up and left me for grandma.

Four years later she was getting married to famous Hollywood director Tom Adams. By then she was suddenly ready to raise me again. It didn't matter that he was 11 years older than her.

He changed our lives or perhaps she did after she close him over her daughter.

"This is my place of work mother did it occur to you that I'll be busy?" I replied in a clipped tone. I stared at her coldly after all the ice queen gave birth to an ice princess. Unlike her pale white skin mine was tinged with my biological father's colour whom I never met.

Her eyes raked my form taking in my attire, Palazzo trousers with a white sleeveless chiffon top which I tucked in. She looked impeccably put together in her dress with noting out of place, She was truly beautiful.

"What else do you expect me to do? You won't pick my calls or return them. I've left dozens of voice mails, mails, messages. You have made it clear you want to have nothing to do with me because to you I'm the woman you hate the most anyway." A simple shrug followed her statement and for a quick second I saw pain in her eyes.

"Can we at least go somewhere to talk? Please Elizabeth" She added the last part almost guessing my answer then tried to reach out to me and I flinched backward quickly.

Opening my office door and ushering her in I took in a large breath.

This is killing me.

How can she look at me like I'm the one hurting her? This woman destroyed my life.

"I want you to come home, you moved from London here. I m so tired Elizabeth, I want to try, I want you to try to have a relationship with your half siblings."Mother fiddled with the brooch of her dress as she spoke now, something she usually did when she was nervous.

Tears stung my eyes and I tampered down the emotions "Come home to where?"

Oh, I forgot to add that a year after our lives changed  she got married again. She supposedly fell in love and when I needed her the most and dumped me with my grandparents to start afresh in her new home after all I was spoilt goods.

Even my mother didn't want me.

I laughed a loud sarcastic laugh " You are fifteen years late mother. You remember how when we left the court that day you said I always trying to break your home it was my fault for being too attractive and for ruining your life and coming too early?"

Tears were streaming down her face right now "I am sorry Liz, I was hurting and I lashed out. I want to take the words back but I can't, I just want to try. I thought after he died things will get better thing between us, but you moved miles away." Her makeup was ruined now.

"My name is Elizabeth to you mother not Liz. Go back to your kids and your husband to your family, Grandma was my last family before she died. " .

I kept up my mask till she left and after excusing myself from the office by telling the new resident who was assigned to me to reschedule my appointments for tomorrow I walked out.

I walked down the streets for hours and hours till it became dark and I wondered into a bar.

In time pain may get longer or fleeting depending on its magnitude.

Thankful for my wallet and phone which I grabbed when I went to get lunch I wasn't stranded.

"Whiskey, neat" I ordered.

The bar was dimly lit and country music blared. I sat on the bar stool down and slumped my shoulder.

God I was exhausted!

One call, one visit one tiny mode of communication from my mother and just like that, all the walls and emotional preparation goes down to the drain.

In Pamela's voice, I was physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally exhausted. I am tired of all the pain crushing my heart, every time I try to breathe it keeps pulling me under.

I stared into the brown liquid not taking a sip.

How does it feel to be happy day in day out? Do I deserve that?

Swirling the bottle in my hand so that the liquid danced around in the bottle. Alcohol and drugs was never my scene.

I've never even understood the science behind it. People take alcohol when they are happy then go back to it to drown their sorrows, like can you just pick a side?

"If you are not going to take a sip of that whiskey what's your poison then?" A raspy voice called out. Immediately I raised my head to see who that familiar silken drawl belonged to, it was strong enough to pull me from my self pity or hatred.

In the bars dim light I could see  the ceremonial US army uniform. I couldn't make out his face as he sat farther down to my left. Something was tugging me to answer, maybe it was the bass of his voice or how calm it washed over me I found myself telling the truth.

"Pain. I'm addicted to the pain." I replied loud enough for him to hear me over the music.

Scrapping sound could be heard as he got up and moved towards me a little into the light.

"Shit" I murmured lowly.

Double shit.

It was blue eyes airport stranger in uniform. I let my eyes wash over him, I'll remember that proud jaw and eyes even after a whole year.

There is something about men in uniform coupled with his blue eyes,  that made you immediately know he was of mixed origin and chocolate brown eyes. His voice was softer than our first meeting and husky voice enough to compel me out of my pain haze.

"Hello," he drawled out again sitting so close to me now.

*****
Now let the drama begin *insert GOT theme sound*😀😁😀

I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I'm about to turn up some heat in the next chapter I know you'll like it.

Have you voted yet? Did you leave me a comment ? Are you following me? Did you share my book link?

Oya go and do all of the above please ehn

Love and light
Orex