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Several months later ~

It was Micah's birthday. He would've been 30.

    I was on my way to his gravesite, knowing that my two siblings might be around. So I snuck away, and stayed out until I was sure that I wasn't being trailed, and chose a time to visit that my siblings would most likely not choose.

    I hoped that they had moved states like I'd urged them to in my note. But they would surely be back to visit our brother's grave site.

    A small part of me wanted to see them, but I mostly never wanted to be involved with them again. After years of the opposite, reality had finally smacked me right in the face.

    I was a threat to their safety.

    Anyone who I got close to was in danger.

    I wouldn't allow it again.

    I pulled into the driveway of the small, discreet graveyard. It was in the country, under old, rotting trees and most of the stones had crumbled or were covered in moss or weeds, long forgotten.

    Since we'd buried Micah ourselves, and didn't want the law involved, he was here. Our mother was in a different graveyard, which I never visited, but knew that Joe and Persia visited once or twice yearly.

    I didn't see any cars around, so I walked through the trees, enjoying the small spots of sunlight as it bathed my skin, and feeling chills roll through my body as a cool breeze blew by, ruffling my clothes and hair.

    Micah's grave.

    I stood in front of it, staring down at it.

    "Hey, bro," I whispered, feeling my gaze and posture soften as it always did for him. I crouched down, letting my knees touch the ground, feeling the coldness of the earth seep through the fabric of my pants, chilling my skin. "I miss you."

    My fingers grazed over the headstone.

    He's gone.

    He's really gone.

    I clenched my jaw, feeling my eyes get wet. "Shit, why does this always happen?" I gasped out, shaking my head. No matter how hard I pushed, the tears started to fall, and I sat down, crossing my legs, my hand still attached to the headstone like it was velcroed on or something, my tears dripping onto my pants.

    "I just...really miss you," I said, choking on the words. "You were my...best friend."

    Fuck.

    This hurts.

    Footsteps. My eyes widened as I heard footsteps coming up behind me, and I dashed behind a tall, crumbling headstone, my back against it, breathing heavily.

    "Are you stupid, Asa?"

    I froze, stopping my breathing.

That's Joe's voice.

    "We saw you. Come out."

    Persia.

    I blinked a few times, then slowly stood up, coming out from my hiding place. Joe and Persia were watching me with unimpressed expressions on their faces. I scratched the back of my head, flashing them a sheepish grin.

    "Hey," I said lamely.

    "Don't hey me," Persia scoffed, plopping down on the ground by Micah's grave.

    Joe regarded me with his arms folded. I noticed that he was wearing an expensive trench coat, and he was letting his hair grow out. I glanced at Persia. She looked great. No bruises covered her face, and...

    "You're pregnant," I deadpanned, staring at her stomach.

    "I'm pregnant," she confirmed, smiling softly.

    "And we moved," Joe said.

    I stepped forward cautiously, listening.

    "We're in a different state now," Persia said. "Together."

    I nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me. "You shouldn't come back here. Ever again."

    "We'll always come back on Micah's birthday," Persia snapped.

    There was a stretch of silence between us as Joe said down next to Persia, and I stood where I was, behind the headstone. None of us were looking at Micah's grave anymore. We were looking at each other across it.

    "I'm glad you split me and my ex up," Persia confessed softly, her hand touching her belly. "This baby is his. But I'm seeing someone new. He's a good man."

    "He is," Joe nodded.

     I said nothing, glancing between the two.

    Time to go.

    Joe seemed to sense what I was about to do. "Asa...how - how are you?"

    I looked away from his face. "It doesn't matter."

    All that mattered to me was them staying safe, and staying away from me, for the rest of their lives. I had to go.

    I never want to see them again.

    "It does matter," Persia piped in. "What happened to you that night? Where did you go? Why did you leave us?"

    I ignored her questions, striding past the headstone, letting my fingers touch it once more, and walked past my siblings on my way to my vehicle. I heard them scramble to their feet behind me, and I gritted my teeth as I quickened my pace.

    Persia's with someone new.

    Joe's wound has healed.

    They're both safe, in a different state.

    "Asa, WAIT!" Persia called after me. "Please!"

    "Explain yourself, Asa!" Joe yelled. "Are you really just gonna leave, huh?"

    I could hear the fear in their voices. They knew. They knew that this was the last time they were ever going to see me.

    This is my life.

    I'm still doing what I want to do.

    I'm an assassin now, for a notorious crime lord.

    And the ones I love are far away.

    As it should be.


I couldn't hear their footsteps anymore.





They had stopped running after me.








Good.

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