The Lone Dove #1
Love and Trust are two very important ideals, but what happens when the moment you lose the two most important people in the world and are left with an inheritance, and a company you find you cannot trust anyone else with. That is P...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⚜️ DIANA'S DEVOTION ⚜️
PROLOGUE:
Through thick and thin, that's a bond of a rope that tightens and tightens against the strain of one's heart until there is nothing left but deceit and undecided secrets tamed by the woman I have known almost my entire life...yet I still don't know at all.
I was intimidated by Poppy Parker, I'll admit that. She's beautiful, she doesn't know how people still look at her when we're not all forced to watch the Royal Elite strutting their ignorant high tops and expensive heels down a polished floor where janitors worked day and night for a job that is not worth it in the end. I know of my wrongdoings, of the whining in my voice, of the demands people glare at me for, at the dirty looks I perhaps receive when my short-tempered hide explodes with the surface of my apparent mood swings.
I know that.
Am I working on it? Yes, I sure as hell am working on it, but put yourself in my simple adidas canvas shoes for a split second and tell me what it's like to always be left in the dark, told to wait, to be patient, she's tell the group when she's ready. Calm your small breasts said Carter. That was the first time I saw Trevor really shove a fist towards the hidden doctor of the group.
So, I made a decision.
To make ourselves known.
But I knew, deep down...that this was only the beginning.
I would change...once she shares a truth I've been begging years for to know and be a part of. Because Poppy Parker pulled me out of my shadows and made me leader of this group when we all know...she wears the crown.
CHAPTER 1
All I ask is that you listen. Or god forbid, put yourself in my shoes.
She died that day. Four years ago now, I was dumb and thirteen-years-old, not understanding an unimaginable reality that slid in the window and slapped me across the face, harder than I could squawk at the momentum. Her eyes were dried, but it wasn't just the eerie lost glow she had. She appeared nostalgic. Even when I grumbled at her absence, feeling the loss of my friend without feeling the loss of her forever. As I said, I was a dumb thirteen year old who shattered the second my closest friend told me why she had gone missing for weeks on end and left no word. I yelled, she stood. I growled, she stared.
Her eyes-what use to be beacons of utter mischief had dried and crisped to the glacially cold reality-she lost the two most important people in her life and I stood like a coward, I believed I begged for forgiveness-when even I knew I didn't deserve it. But I didn't, I wrapped her in a hug only a best friend should give and cried for her loss when she lost her tears long before I even knew she lost her family.
Thump.
I blink.
Trevor throws a pristine pillow against my back, "Are we studying or not?" He asks me, I begrudgingly place the photo frame back on my wooden set of drawers Mom bought carelessly from a vintage shop she found fascinating. The scratches on it got me grounded a few times and while Trevor-freaking-Gunner was lounging on my bed right now with his head focused on the seven-kilogram classics textbook in front of him.
