Locked Up

Chapter Nine

Kehlani "Delicious" Jackson
The next day
I was anxiously tapping my fingers against the steering wheel as Twain and I drove in silence. I was extremely nervous about telling him about my past and how he would judge me. I've kept it buried for so long and with it finally coming out into the open was a lot for me to handle.

Twain reached over and set his hand on my knee. "You know you don't have to do this. You can tell me when the time is right," he sighed. Here's your chance! Back out!

"No I want to do this. I-I'm ready as long as you're there with me," I said softly. He grabbed one of my hands and kissed my knuckles.

"Alright baby. How much further?"

"We have about another hour until we're there," I sighed. He continued to hold my hand as we made our way to the one place that I thought I would never return to. Once I saw the sign indicating that we were in my home town, I started to get tense. What if I saw his family? Would they speak? Would I speak-

"Kehlani unclench your hand," Twain said. I looked to see my hand bawled up into a fist. It was so tight my fingers had gone pale. I released my fingers as I took a deep breath. "That's it. I'm right here K," he smiled. As I came to a stop in front, I hesitated before climbing out of the car. One look at Twain gave me enough courage to pull the door handle and exit the vehicle. I took slow, agonizing steps to the rusted old metal gate. Twain stood beside me and grabbed my hand tightly.

"A little girl grew up in this place. Just her and her druggy mother. She used to play right here in this yard while her mother would be inside handling her "business." She would just run all around, back and forth chasing her own dreams through the grass. She was so free, so innocent and filled with wonder.

"When her mom was away one day, she was playing in the yard when they got some new neighbors. She saw a moving truck and a young boy playing around with a basketball. One look and she was done for...

The little boy walked up to the young girl by the gate. He smiled, his dimples evident. "Hi. What's your name?" She said nothing as he waited for a response. "Not much of a talker huh? How about I start? My names Malachi. What's yours?" He grinned. Still no response left her lips. "Okay well how about a nickname? I'll call you Flower..."

"She was his Flower, and he was her Smiley. Though she only called him that in her head. For weeks she didn't speak to him. Not one word. He did most of the talking when they played together but neither of them minded it. She loved hearing him talk. He fascinated her in every way possible. He amazed her, and the same went for him.

"So finally she builds up the courage to tell him her name. After a month of being friends, she told him her name was Lily. Like the flower. Years go by and the two remain friends. Best friends even. Now, it's high school. She's of course madly in love with him like any other corny story. But she would never admit to it. Then just one day, everything changes..."

Running. Just running. Lily pushes herself until her legs start to burn and the adrenaline is pumping through her. To her street, past her house, straight up to Malachi's door where she knows he is home alone. Furiously she pounds on the door screaming his name so the street could hear. The door flies open and there stands her best friend confused more than ever. "What the hell Lil why you poundin like you the police?" Without hesitation she falls into his arms, sobbing violently into his chest. Closing the door behind them, they both sink to the floor as her cries filled the air. "Lily what's going-"

"She's dead Mal. She's dead," she screamed.

"What happened?" He asked quietly. She tried to compose herself so she could tell the story.