Shield Me

Valiant Williams could only remember that her life has been of chaos and utter tragedy.

FLASHBACK: AGE 3 - Author's POV

A housefire burns wildly at the old house on a hill, destroying everything in its path. Pictures and clothing and toys for a girl toddler. A little red wagon sits untouched in the dirt front yard as the firemen work to control the inferno. Valiant watches on with curly brown pigtails and tears in her deep brown eyes.

"God dammit," her grandmother spits to Valiant's mother Phylicia, "you bastards are going to be the death of me!" Zenobia watches as her house burns and her other grandkids along with neighbors and passers-by are littering the sidewalk in amusement because this is nothing new.

"I have been trying to help out you worthless children, and you just keep destroying your lives! I deserve better children than this. At least one of my nine children made something of themselves!" She's referring to Joan, the eldest child and most successful.

Zenobia was twice married and had nine children with three men. Joan was a legit bastard as her father hadn't married her mother, but she was fortunate and had accomplished what she set out to do. She'd gone to college, joined a sorority, opened a business, and began dating a senior non-commissioned officer (NCO) at the local military base. She was the pride and joy in the family.

Phylicia was the seventh child and the most vulnerable to harassment and mistreatment from her mother. She had a fragile mind and a big heart. She loved and did for others, but she kept falling into traps that took her too far from reality. She was the black sheep.

"Momma, I won't even he-ya when the fire broke. Why you always blame me for bad thangs? I ain't had nothin' to do wit dis," Phylicia said, defeated and verbally bullied. Her southern speech was difficult at times to understand, especially to newcomers.

The years of stress, heavy drinking, and hard drug use billboards her face and body, making her look decades older. "I jus' want my pictures, I hope they can save 'em." She looked up to see the progress made on the fire and the crackles that once populated the atmosphere no longer gave prominence.

The house was partially destroyed, but it left the family homeless. It was a sudden prophecy for the little girl; she would have to come out of the fire and shine bright.

This was a memory that Valiant remembered when people asked her about her childhood. The day her life had been set on fire and burned her with searing pain. There was no turning back. Her life would present obstacles, but it was as if the heavens knew when she was named that she would prevail.

AGE 19 - Valiant's POV

The swampy Georgia air reminded me of the childhood and consequences of decisions I'd tried to leave behind. I was only back here to give closure to a nightmare that created voids in me so deep that light could never go there.

He'd been extradited on a warrant for his arrest and brought back for trial on a case that was still open. A few years ago, Zayvion, my youngest brother, had lied in an investigation that gave him a walk while pinning charges on my then boyfriend and current fiance, Roman.

Checking my wristwatch and phone in an alternating manner, I waited for my name to be called so that I could make my visit quickly. I was due back to the airport in a few hours heading westward again. I was going back to a promise that was made to me.

My mind began translating the various conversations around me in the waiting room. The deep southern drawls, the long strings of lazy words forming idiotic sentences and street slang meant to keep informants from snitching littered the air, I shuddered in anxiety.

Looking around, I was at least grateful to the bastard incarcerated for helping me see a better life for at least a little while. The dingy, dark county jail was no place for me, and I had to stomach it all until my time was up to see the imprisoned selfish aşshole.

The timing couldn't be any more perfect, I scrambled to my feet at the call of my first and last name. I prayed silently that no one would know me and that a brawl wouldn't break out, causing a lockdown.

"Valiant Williams? Is there a Valiant Williams here to see Driggs?" The pudgy sheriff stood proud at the junction between the dark waiting area and the brightly lit service counter with a clipboard in hand.

I stepped up to him, placing my items on the metal detection belt, and announced my presence. "I'm here. I'm Valiant Williams." I smiled politely at the older man. He smiled back, probably grateful he encountered someone who looked like they had some sense.

I allowed him to have my driver's license, and while I waited for him to enter the information into the computer, I noticed that he had burns on his hands. The scars were bright red up against his pale white skin.

My mind flashed back to the time many years ago before my troubles began with the house fire that threw me into forbidden abuse and permanent trauma. I contemplated how things would have been had I had perished.

"Aw-righty ma'am! You're good to go. Just step through the metal detector with your arms hanging loosely by your sides." He took a pause as i signed the paperwork, "I hope that man in there gets his act together. You sure are a beautiful one."

I smiled back and pushed my wavy tresses behind my ear, "Thank you, sir, have a good day, and be safe. Don't work too hard."

He replied back, blushing, "Thank you dear, good day!"

I was led back to a demarcated room where there was a stainless steel rimmed shatterproof plexiglass separator that housed two-way telephone receivers and bolted in place hard plastic chairs in sets on either side.

"Driggs is in stall number nine. You have thirty minutes with him." A female officer spoke hurriedly to me then turned on her heels to leave.

I walked with determined steps without an ounce of pity or hesitancy. When I saw Roman Driggs sitting in his orange shirt and pants, I rolled my eyes, easily annoyed and pissed that I didn't make the better decision when I had the chance to.

This man had conned me, my heart, and the opportunities he took from me for his own selfish gains. He smirked at me and winked. I reminded myself that going to jail for any reason was not wise.

I picked up the receiver, not caring about sterilization, I needed to say the shịt on my chest and get out before he had a chance to poison me again.

"You look like death warmed over, I bet you wish you had my cooking right now." I spat fluently in my viciously sharp tone. My eyes never left his.

"It's good to see you, Vee. You're looking good, but then again, you always did. That's how you trapped me." I sneered, and he licked his lips, most likely remembering how I tasted.

"Anyway, it's been months, and it took you long enough to get here. How's my son? Can I see a picture of him?"

He was too calm and conceited. But I was about to change all that.

"Unfortunately, for you, I've come to share with you some important news. So I'll be quick because I have a flight to catch."

I rummaged through my structured leather bag, pulling out a folder, sitting it in front of me.

"Yeah, I know you won't be sticking around, but to be clear with you, I don't want my son around that man. My lawyers are preparing to fight you for custody."

I snapped.

"You ruined my life but that much you already know. I trusted you, and you misused it. You chose to take my vulnerability to exploit me, and that is the worst. So I don't feel bad to let you know," I held up a picture of my son, "he's not yours. We don't have any children together."

His face dropped, looking at the little boy and then back at me. Roman saw it and he knew better. He had questions and I had answers.

"You fūcking bịtch! You lied! You lied! You let me believe he was mine! I can't believe you!"

He became unraveled at the revelation, and I just sat back waiting for the next opportunity to let the hammer fall. I needed to crush the rest of his hope and dream of us.

I held up the next item, the baby's birth certificate, and watched the madness. I smiled wide, taunting him.

"You shouldn't be so upset, Ro. We're even now. There's nothing attaching me to you or your millions, whatever is left of it. And, I'm going off to the Air Force soon. I have emptied the house as it's been seized and sold the car. I will mail your mother your engagement ring and the proceeds from the car. It might help you with some expenses."

With that, I put all my documents away, preparing to stand and leave when I saw him crying.

"Val, I would have been content not ever knowing. I know it's too late, and I've made some bad mistakes. If I could take it back, I would. This hurts, today, I have lost everything. You win, you win."

"This might be the first time you've ever spoken a truth. Your last sentence is my respite. Have a good life, Roman."

I hung up the receiver and walked back the way I came feeling empty and like I hadn't won anything. A little over a year ago, I could've survived without ever meeting this man and his "friends," but here I was pleading with God for hope.

Except there was one that set fire to my being. I loved being ablaze for him. He could only do it.