DAVINA
The sweet smell of the strawberry sauce Grandma made is still strong when I walk into the kitchen, despite everything being clean and disinfected. She said that this is a special cake, because it is part of a large order that she received, and that the money would be used to rent a commercial space to start her bakery. Like an ant after candy, I follow my favorite scent until I trace the clear plastic container, emblazoned with your unique brand logo. That I made myself on my cell phone, on the marble bench that separates the part with the stove from the table we use for meals. I ask the exaggerated pink bow she puts on all her orders, and I read the name written in icing on top of the cake.
Pryia.
The middle sister of the owner of the hill.
I knew she was having a birthday today, I was woken up by the fireworks display that her brother organized exclusively for today, but I didn't know that it was Grandma who was preparing all the sweets and cake, I thought that the order she couldn't get enough of talking was about some rich people she worked for in her time as a maid.
I push saliva down my throat, a failed attempt to get rid of the dryness in the area. Grandma should have let me know, she knows I'm the one who delivers her packages, sand that I hate to go up the hill and talk to those people.
"Davina?" My sister's unsure voice makes me look over my shoulder and check her face with concern, since she started getting involved with one of the dealers, Pryia is no longer the same and lives with a fearful look. "What happened? "I ask when I see the tears running down her cheeks.
"I-I…" She takes a step closer, lacing her hand through mine and kissing the back of it with an emotion I pretend not to notice. A siren whistles in my brain. Something is wrong. Very wrong.
"Whose bags are these?" I question when I notice two bags in the corner of the door that gives access to the kitchen. She sobs and breaks down in sobs. "Pryia? "I call her when she hugs me.
"I'm leaving, Davina. This place is not for me. "I move her body away from mine, lining up our eyes to make sure what she just said is true, or I'm imagining something.
"What you mean? I grip his arms with my fingertips. She shakes her head and tries to pull away. My eyes dart back to the two suitcases." You're not kidding."
Whisper.
She gasps, manages to wriggle out of my grip, and wipes away her tears.
" The decision has already been made."
"We never left here." My voice is low, full of our childhood memories.
Silence.
I look down at the cake still sitting on the marble counter. He looks so dull right now.
"Does mom know?"
I let the question out and catch my sister's eyes. Her gaze contains uncertainty, but not enough to convince her to stay.
"No. " she speaks.
I suck air into my lungs, seeking some balance in a nearby chair.
"My plea for you to stay will be in vain, won't it? " I think of mines parents, especially the woman, who always justified the actions of Pryia as rebellious and fleeting moments of youth." Mom will be devastated. I comment when she remains silent.
" The voo is already marked."
"Flight? You mean you're going by plane?
She lifts the left corner of her lip in a cocky smile.
"Your sister is not weak, Davina I'm going to leave this life of limitations for a palace in Italy. The excitement in his voice made me jump out of my chair.
"Palace? Italy?"
My head got to to hurt.
" I met someone on the dating site, and he sent a ticket to visit him in Italy, but I don't intend to return. I will make this opportunity my letter away from this mediocre life."
There was so much anger in his words that I just couldn't understand. Our life wasn't perfect, but nothing was ever lacking, especially for Mom's favorite. What was she talking about?
" You cannot move to another country without speaking the local language." I argued. "It's not safe, either." Pryia. How do you know this man is not a crook? Trafficking in women is common among girls like us. I pointed at Grandma's house and our clothes, even though I felt a twinge of guilt for using where we grew up and our possessions to talk some sense into her head.
"He's not a crook." He defended the guy, crossing his arms over his chest and giving me an annoyed look.
"So, have you seen him yet?"
Another moment of silence.
"No, but I believe not. My ability to read people. And he is not a bandit."
I snorted.
She was the last personable to use this argument.
"Does your drug dealer boyfriend know you're leaving?" I didn't know the guy's name, I just heard the nickname circulating around the community and used it whenever I wanted to piss her off.
Her mouth tightened, thin lips pressing together.
"He's not a drug dealer!" she yelled, and I rolled my eyes.
"Of course he is. Everyone on the hill says he's in charge of drug production and Blake's right-hand man.
"They are friends." She defended him. " Ghost belongs to a traditional family It is San Diego, his mother is a judge and his father is a successful lawyer.
I opened and closed my mouth in boredom.
"You don't answer my question."
She played the hands up as if he didn't believe my words.
"Of course he doesn't know. Ghost would never allow that I traveled to find another man, maybe he even tried megastar when to find out." the revelation sent shivers through my body, his own voice an octave lower and darker. How could I let her go after she told me all this? I couldn't trust that the guy from Italy was different from that Phantom, her rotten finger wouldn't allow me to believe.
"Please, Pryia. Do not go." I begged, the first tears filling my eyes.
She sighed, but not out of place.
"I'm sorry, Davina, but I've made my decision, and I'm not going back. My relationship with Phantom is toxic, and he will never come out to his parents."
"You can find someone better. Here. A rich guy."
One more turn, she denied.
"No one will change my mind, not even you. I deserve a better house, designer clothes and financial stability. I know you believe you can have a different future if you study, but trust me, that's not enough. It takes luck. The moon doesn't shine for everyone, but we can be smart like her and steal a little bit of that shine for us. Goodbye, Davina, Tell Mom and Dad I love them."
The tears were already falling, but I wasn't going to cry, I allowed myself to take a step towards her as she picked up the bags from the floor, but then she looked over her shoulder at me, shook her head and left. A part of me wanted to scream at Pryia, tell her that her choice was selfish and that it wasn't fair to leave me alone to tell our parents everything, but it was no use, she wouldn't listen. She never listened.
I lost track of the time I spent staring at the door, but it had been minutes. Many minutes.
I wiped my tears, took Raven's cake and made my way to the devil's house.
The fear I usually feel when I walk past armed men who guard the way to Blake's house it wasn't there as usual, my senses were numbed from what my sister had just done. The sweets Grandma had made had already been delivered, along with the cupcakes. And savory, so I didn't have to make more than one trip. However, the person who was supposed to receive me was not there, and I had to ask my childhood friend for help.
The last person in the world I wanted to talk to right now.
Timmy.
DAVINA"Are you crying."It wasn't a question, yet I denied it."I have to go. " I said as soon as I received the rest of the money."I know you, Davina " Timmy gripped my arm gently but hard enough to make me stop and look at him." Your impression. I muttered, already regretting having asked for his help.""I doubt.""We were friends, remember? I know every part of you. " One of the guys who was passing by and overheard the last bit of the conversation, let go The lascivious laughter, whistling and joking. I get angry and pull the arm.Without looking back, I leave Timmy talking to himself. Got enough shit in my truck to worry about your feelings today, who knows, never. I go down the slope running, almost tripping over half a dozen balls of plastic scattered across the floor, balancing me at the last second."It has to be Davina "one of the boys growls, I think it's the son of a bitch madam Sirilla, the grocery box where grandma buys most of her ingredients. I shoot him a look that
GUTEMBERG (Ghost) Every government has laws. Every crime has a purpose. Every society has rules. It's pure logic, we're just so obsessed with the idea of freedom that we don't see the obvious. We are still the same. Turns out it's so much more, It's easy to pretend there's no control. The laws in the criminal world are simple, but here there is a crown, a prickly and bloody, an ammo belt under the head, and each decision is minimally thought out to cause the smallest impact. Which also means that the king's orders must be obeyed. I clear my throat, scratching the back of my neck as Timmy cleans his pistol. As if last night never existed. "Are you well?"he asks with a smile provocative on the lips, glad enough to make me opine how many times has he participated in torture. Many must be the answer. For someone like Timmy, born and raised in the community, episodes of violence come naturally. But no for me. I try not to look like I'm about to puke just looking at all the blood al
GUTEMBERGI slide the gate bolt slowly, checking over my shoulder to see if any lights have come on since I locked the front door, when I realize they haven't, I let out a sigh of relief and look down. I stare at my bare, dirty feet, then scenes from last night explode inside my head and the smell of blood hits me.The blood is stuck to my clothes and skin, a clear note of what I've done.In my right hand, my phone vibrates non-stop.I crush the urge to answer the call and throw the device away, it hits the wall and falls to the floor.My parents have an important place in society, a place inherited from my father's family, a place my mother will never relinquish, a position I have never had the option of denying. To all the important people in San Diego, I am Gutemberg Ramsey, a promising lawyer with a penchant for dangerous sports, fast romances and a born activist. To the underprivileged part of West City, a place we call the Hill, I'm the right-hand man of the local drug dealer.
DAVINAThe blanket I chose earlier today, the same one I've been using since I was thirteen and welcomed as a favorite after Grandma confessed that she sewed it herself, barely covers the bed, leaving a third of the mattress exposed. The thing is, I refuse to change the blanket and get a new one.Even with the bedroom door locked, I can hear my parents arguing, every day they find a new reason to fight, even if the reason is something silly like leaving the orange peel in the sink. It's nonsense, we all know that Mom blames Dad for Pryia's departure. Another piece of nonsense. My sister has always hated this place and was going to leave sooner or later, it just happened to be soon enough to drive Mom crazy.I throw myself back on the bed, drowning among the lined pillows. My sister used to tease me about this as a child, pointing out how strange I was for having so many pillows around me that there was no room left for me on the mattress.The memory makes me look away, at her empty, t
DAVINA'' Mrs. Carter? One minute, please.''I freeze in place, my breathing wavering when I hear his footsteps behind me.He shouldn't be talking to me here, not when we're alone. Someone might notice.'' What? '' I ask, but my voice is so low and hoarse that it's more like a grunt.Tom looks around before closing the distance between us, then when he's sure there's no one near, his fingers touch my cheek and lips.'' I missed you this weekend." His tone is sweet, so sweet that I want to smile, but I can't. He and I aren't going to happen anymore. It's not going to happen anymore.'' And your fiancée? '' a wrinkle appears between his eyebrows and his body tenses, but all he does is shake his head. I still hoped he would deny it.'' I don't love her.'''' She's expecting you, baby. '' I accuse, pulling away from his touch.'' Yes, she set me up. I'm going to marry her just to give my daughter a family. ''I wrinkle my nose.'' Fine, then go back to her and stay away from me.'''' No,
GUTEMBERGMy eyes flick towards Timmy and I focus on the tattoo on his neck, it's just a number, an eight, but he's never explained the meaning to anyone. The two of us are having yet another argument over it, his little protégé and my newest obsession.If he only knew what I know about his little darling."You're the one who keeps talking about her. "I reply, and his jaw clenches. He's one step away from hitting me in the face, the only thing stopping him is his weakened state.I was having fun with our little debate until he started talking about my other name, not the real one, the one no one here should hear."Shut the fuck up! There is no Phantom here, only Gutemberg." Remember that, no one can know about my other life.I'm sure he can see that he's crossed a line, but there will be no apologies. I can see in his eyes that he will do anything to get me away from Davina, including blackmailing me. Likewise, I need to think about all my future steps from here. I still want to make
DAVINA I shouldn't drink. At least, I shouldn't drink anything alcoholic before I was the right age. The thing is, I needed a drink. A lot. The conversation I had with Timmy three days ago in hospital both terrified me and created a certain hope, which is crazy, since he made me promise to stay away from Gutemberg Ramsey under threat, yes, Gutemberg Ramsey, I say his full name because he's not there, in fact, I've repeated his name countless times since I found out, and I don't intend to stop. He could also be a Ghost, considering I'd never seen him before that day in the hospital, and I've never been so scared in someone's presence. Scared and on all fours. I nearly had a heart attack when he opened the bedroom door and I fell to my knees on the floor in the most humiliating position. Urgh. Unbelievable. I rest my eyes on the three blinking dots on the cell phone Sissy has been typing on since I told her about my sister's ex leading a double life. I wasn't sure I was going to t
Gutemberg (Ghost). "Ghost, wake up." Someone nudges my arm and by the firmness of the touch, I can tell it's not a woman. I mutter something and pull the sheet up, covering half of my face." Wake up! Here is notmotel, no.Wait, maybe it's a woman.This voice…"My husband is coming, you need to go!" I pull the sheet down, spotting a pair of legsturned and feminine,Lucky me, rising the look capturethe short shirtand thenthe front commission.Fuck it! Othe two melons aresofed upthat are almost jumping in my faceand demanding a bite. Oh! They havemarks ofbikini.I love these marks."Are you married, beautiful?" I open an indecent smile, passing my tongue between my lips without deviating from the beautiful pair of breasts." Ok… joking with my face?" She says, acquiring an annoyed expression that makes me want to roll my eyes,but I stay neutral, just staring at her and waiting for an answer." Serious?"Speaks, with both eyebrows raised." What's serious, honey?" The brunette makes a sound