Bullets In A Cold Winter Breeze

Chapter Sixteen Loyalty Prop

**Dalyla POV** 09/10/2014 (Time Unknown)

"So let me get this straight, Trenton. Cause either you're about as dumb as... It's no either, Trenton. You're fucking stupid as shit! You married a bitch that fucked you after a hour of y'all knowing each other. You let that bitch take your virginity and make you forget about me?" I hiss as thoughts of him being contaminated by a whore erode pieces of my mind while painting a different narrative of Trenton in my head.

Now, he is a scum of the earth for killing Toc, and he's also a punk ass nigga that allowed himself to be controlled by pussy. How on earth would a female that set him up so easily be the same bitch he married? Oh, yeah that's right, cause he's fucking stupid!

"With all that I was going through, Dalyla, honestly, I needed another outlet. Y'all were gone, and I couldn't come back to see you. Of course, it wasn't as easy as you think. I didn't just fall into her lap-" He begins, but apparently, he recollects all the events he's just told me. Either way, I won't agree with him. I'll hit him from an entirely different angle.

"No, you didn't fall into her lap. She had already fallen into yours!" I declare, shaking my head as I imagine how many other niggas she must've given the same treatment. "Okay, so you get with a whore, realize she set you up, and then fall in love with her? Am I missing anything?"

"Dalyla. Please don't speak about my wife like that. As much as she tries, I don't let her talk bad about you." He lies. It's obvious that he's not the backbone in his marriage. If she controlled him at the age of fourteen, she's definitely still doing it now!

Wait for one mothafuckin minute! Did this nigga just ask me not to talk smack about a woman who hoed him twice? She's a hoe, and then she hoed him by selling him out. That's the bitch he wants to take up for? Okay, Trenton, well, by all means! Thanks for showing me exactly how low you have fallen. "Then what?"

"Shit. A lot..." With a smirk of suspected humor, Trenton begins spilling whatever bullshit he has. "Oh, and in case you weren't aware, I survived. Despite hearing the gunshots-"

"I wish you would've died. I wish the scars you got from getting your face beat in were bullet fragments, but you can continue." I assure, raising an eyebrow with the tilt of my head to demonstrate precisely how little I care about him being alive. A view that apparently breaks whatever heart this monster has left over. He looks like someone stole his puppy, football, and parents. Hmm, well, I know one of those is correct.

"Yea. Sure." He obliges reluctantly after the given response. "So anyway, the moment-"

****** (Time Unknown, Date Unknown)

I regain consciousness, I despise myself for waking up. My head feels like it's currently being and has been banged between symbols for several days with no end. My entire body feels like it's bleeding inside and out, and I can feel the liquid inside me swishing about for the first time. It takes a while for my foggy sight to conclude that I'm no longer in the endless pit of darkness; instead, I'm in the pitch-black dungeon of my "home." It's actually not much of a difference. Besides the massive headache, of course.

"Don't stand up too quick. It'll make your head hurt worse." Russ speaks quietly. Nevertheless, his calm speech scares the shit out of me. I can't see him considering it's so dark, but I can feel his presence is way closer than it should be.

"JoJo?" I mutter, not knowing how long I've been unconscious.

"He's straight. He'll be home in the morning. It's not nearly as bad as we thought."

"Good."

"Yeah..." he says, taking a deep breath as he prepares his following words, which make my spirit tremble in nauseating anticipation. Cause what the fuck can be more complex than telling me JoJo's condition? "Thanks for helping me out the other day. You got a lot more heart than I thought. Can't fight worth shit, but I guess I'll have to teach you." He says, releasing the breath he's been holding in.