No matter how many times the doctor tells me I’m healthy, that I’m healing.Even after they gave me my discharge papers today, he’s still there.Still watching.Still protecting.Still loving me.
I told him about Jonah when I woke up the next day.He was stunned, unable to comprehend the depths of Frankie’s depravity.He was sad that he never got the chance to know thegoodtwin.
Pope was skeptical when I told him about seeing Jonah that day in the warehouse.He has reasons for his disbelief, and I’ll never try to persuade him any differently.
It’s been hard to accept that all the times I swore there were two versions of Frankie, there actually was.I thought there was something wrong with me for the longest time because I cared deeply about the good parts of him.Once I understood those parts were just Jonah, I chose to give myself grace.
My room has been a constant state of visitors, as everyone needed to see for themselves that I’m okay.
Cyanide and Valkyrie told me about the guys finding Shae.They explained the state she was in, how our names were the ones she recognized when Pope told her who he was.I still don’t know how to feel about her, but after everything I’ve been through, I don’t think I want to push another innocent person out of my life.
It’s not Shae’s fault that Dad couldn’t stay faithful, and it would be unfair of me to hold it against her.
Gavel has brought the twins to see me every day.They cry when it’s time to leave and beg to stay.It breaks my heart every time Pope has to explain to them that it’s not helpful to my healing if I have to worry about hiding my pain from them.
The doctor brought in a therapist for me and, although I wasn’t too receptive to her at first, her patience won me over.She’s been by to see me every day, and with each piece I unload to her, the lighter my shoulders feel.
I was worried about what I could say at first until Pope reassured me that she’s on the club’s payroll.
She gave me her card after my session with her this morning and asked if I’d consider continuing to see her.I only agreed if she would find someone who specialized in childhood trauma for my kids.They need it as much as I do.
It’ll be good to see if I can get Coco to make an appointment with her, too.Pope said she’s withdrawn from everyone.She’s locked herself in their house and refuses to come out.Scorch is the only person she lets in, and that’s only because Pope threatened to have a wellness check done on her if she didn’t.
He told me she just wanted to have Monster cremated.She didn’t want to hold any kind of memorial for him.I think she should because regardless of who he turned out to be, she loved him.I have to believe that there was something good she saw inside him.She’s refusing to see or talk to me, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s ashamed or if she blames me for what happened.Either way, I’m going to be here when and if she’s ever ready.
Pope was pushing me out the hospital doors in a wheelchair when my therapist rushed out to us and handed me another card with her recommendation on it, along with a scheduled meeting already set for us.
I’m resting my head against the window, watching the scenery pass by, when Pope speaks.
“You have a decision to make.”
“What do you mean?”
“Frankie is chained up in the cellar at the clubhouse,” he states bluntly.
My shoulders tighten, and I whip my head around to stare at him in horror.“He’s still alive?”
“His life isn’t mine to take.”
“Then whose is it?”I ask incredulously.
He nods my way.“Yours if you choose.”
“No, it’s not.”
Pope shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road.“Fine by me.I just needed you to make it.I promised I’d never take such a big decision from you again.”
I bite my lip as I consider what he said.Do I have it in me to take another person’s life?Even someone as evil as Frankie?
Just the thought makes me sick.
But how can I be sure it’s truly over if I don’t?
I peer over at Pope, running my eyes over his face.To his thick tatted arms, and the way the muscles in them bulge when tightens his fingers around the steering wheel.The ‘Born Free’ inked over them, draws my attention.
Is anyone ever truly born free or are we born already shackled by the blood that runs through our veins?
“Do you trust me?”
