| |
Breeze was cold. She was freezing better yet. She sat up and looked around. Where was she? Why were her clothes covered with blood?
“Breeze.”
She looked over at the steel bars.
“You okay?” Honey asked.
Breeze didn’t say anything. She just stared at Honey.
“Can you open this?” Honey asked one of the police officers.
“She just killed her best friend. You sure you wanna go in there?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He shrugged before he unlocked the cell. He wasn’t supposed to let Honey inside but he couldn’t tell such a beautiful woman no. He also felt sorry for Breeze.
“You remember what happened?” Honey asked as she joined Breeze on the cold, concrete bench.
Breeze shook her head.
“That’s okay.”
Honey wrapped her arm around Breeze.
“Don’t remember,” she whispered into Breeze’s ear. “I’ll get you a lawyer. Just keep saying you don’t know what happened and that you don’t remember,” she advised.
Breeze let Honey hold her for a while. She didn’t want to move or think. She honestly couldn’t remember what had happened.
She remembered bits and pieces, like lying on Primo’s bloody chest, and Chance saying something about Dior and some money. She didn’t remember much after that.
“Visit’s over,” the officer announced.
“We’ll get you out of here,” Honey told Breeze. “Primo is holdin’ on for you, so be strong for him.”
“Primo? Primo is alive?”
“Yeah. He’s alive.”
Breeze felt like Honey had just given her life. Primo wasn’t dead. He was still alive because he loved her. He didn’t want to leave her.
That’s what she told herself. She didn’t know if they’d send her to jail for killing Dior and she didn’t care. She had tried to take the one person that had truly loved Breeze away from her.
She didn’t deserve to live. Breeze would never have been able to forgive her for what she’d done. She was better off dead.