Her heart raced the moment she pulled into the Port Of Los Angeles. Even the scent of seawater didn’t calm her down. Gypsy knew something would happen tonight, but the unknown had her entire soul on edge. Grace was coming home tonight. That was her only goal. Little did she know, tonight would change her life forever, but would she ever be the same again. Probably not.
“Marco, get that fucking brat ready. The plane leaves in an hour, and I have a fucking score to settle,” Frank barked. Since the moment Angelina disappeared, Frank felt as though he had lost property. Someone took away what he bought the day they were married. You don’t fuck with a man like Frank and live to see another day.
Amelia forced herself back on the chair. She was shaking like an alcoholic coming down from a binge. For the first time in a while, tears rolled down the older female’s face. The one thing she knew was that she loved her sister. Mary was even named after her, though Spencer said it was after one of his relatives. He never bothered to ask Amelia why she insisted on that name.
“What have I done? I took the life of someone just like me to save myself. I am no better than the men who hurt me,” she cried out as she listened to the tv. It was the first time she realized for every action there is a reaction. At eighteen, all Gypsy thought of was keeping herself out of jail. When the name of the girl was released, she would make sure she had a proper burial. Asking Frank who she was would prove to be damaging, and she wouldn’t bother with upsetting him even more.
The same man that handled Angelina had just taken care of Spencer. By the sounds of the screams that came from within the room, it was probably in the same way. She would not ask, nor did she want to know what he had done to the older man. Whatever it was, he had it coming, and then some. The reign of terror was over. Spencer had signed his confession, and he would never recover from what he did to his daughter. One more disclosure was needed, but that wouldn’t come till Gypsy was present to hear what he had to say about her husband. Nicolette knew, but it had to come from the man himself.
He stole her kisses in the sand, and she fell in love for the last time. This boy, man, love of her life, took her heart, and she never resisted. If you’ve never known what love was, it will catch you off guard and take your breath away. Gypsy Kennedy was in love with that boy, and her heart would never be the same. Sometimes God gives you a grain of rice, and on the hull, you paint the story of your life.
She paints her lips with arsenic, a trail of victims lost along the way. Her words drip syrup, intoxicating each who consumes. A taste is all she offers, none will get it all. Like the lady with the candy house, beware of what you ask for. Nothing is what it seems. Your throat will tighten, eyes roll back in your head as you choke on your pleas for more. Her laughter is all you hear as she buries another victim to her crimes.
Frank Paloma wasn’t a nice man. Overall, he was one of the biggest wastes of air still walking the planet, but he had something going for him that Gypsy needed—his family. Notorious for cleaning things up, the Paloma family could make all your problems disappear. Gypsy was banking on that the moment she realized what happened back in that hotel room. She stabbed the man, but it wasn’t in self-defense. She came there willingly and to make money. Even her family name couldn’t help her with this one.
(I don’t normally write in first person, but it was needed here)
The day you learn your worth can make or break you. Some people will never keep you, but they will revisit as long as you allow it. There is a small group of people in this world that we call disposable. Today I learned I was one of the few that no one needed, but when 2 am came, they were wanted. I cried for a moment and then used it to my full advantage.