Simply Purgatory (BOOK 1&2)

B O N U S - ALEC

There's no more stars to find

And I'm too far behind

And I'd love to let you go

I'd love to let you go

You're all that's on my mind

I called a thousand times

And I have to let you go

But I love you more and more than you could know

- -

Tyson Joshua Davis' POV:

- -

"Hey, can I help you?" A voice spoke up. My head turned slightly as I saw the girl from just a few days ago.

Her words echo in my mind as I stare at her, completely aware of what hell both her and her family were forced to face.

"Are you Raven's Mom?" The words slip from my mouth before I have the chance to hesitate. I see her dark eyes light up at the mention of her daughters name.

She eyes me carefully, "Rochelle Jensen, but call me Rocky."

I already knew that, but I nodded my head anyway. "My name's Tyson but my friends call me TJ."

"TJ?" She questions, raising an eyebrow. "Tyson Jordan? Tyson Jacob?"

"Joshua." I correct simply, a half smile forming on my face.

"How can I help you today then, Tyson?" She asks, a soft and welcoming grin on her face. Her hazel eyes fitted her small face perfectly, and I knew almost instantly that she was the girl in my mother's photograph.

"I saw your speech at the United Center the other day and I recognised you from somewhere." I explain, "I figured out what it was."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Please share." She leans back on the mantelpiece, studying me.

"You were in a photograph that my mother gave me of my father. I think you were friends with him when you were younger." I continue quietly, lowering my gaze to the ground.

The photograph flashed once again in my mind and I realised that my fathers tanned yet white skin would affect her response to my explanation, especially as I had skin as black as my mothers.

"The police ran a background check on my blood when I was younger and the results gave me his name." I bite my lip, catching her curious stare. "He's called Alexander, Alexander Rossi."

If my words shock her, she doesn't show it physically. Yet her tone shown that of confusion and shock. "That can't be."

"It is. I have a photograph from when he was 16, with you and another boy with ginger hair in it. My Moms told me he went to Juvie at 17. She met one of his brothers once and her names Kaliyah Davis." I knew my eyes showed my desperation but for that moment, no part of me cared. I'd spent 22 years desperate to find my father and my family. This was my last chance. "I know it sounds crazy, Mrs Jensen, but I know it's true. I got my file at 18 and it told me his name and his address from 9 years ago."

"Your file?" She picks up, the question clear in her voice. "From what?"

"I was put in Foster Care when my Moms got ill. It said in the file that my social worker decided against contacting my Pops 'cause it was a protection risk for me. I don't know what that meant and I still don't. I just want to speak to him, please." I swallow visabally.