Free Damaged Love (Bound Series Book 2) by Layla Stevens

hits the elevator button. I hear it ding and then going up.
    I walk over to the edge of the parking garage and see the city of Seattle. It is around eleven at night so there is a brisk breeze blowing in the air. This city is so impressive at night.
    In the distance I can hear the soft music coming from one of the many organs at St. James Cathedral. I catch myself walking in that direction. The soft music is soothing. It doesn’t take long before I am standing outside the massive doors. I walk up the steps and pull open the big wooden slabs. It feels like a higher power is gliding me across the black and white checkered floor. I see all the candles that have been lit for those who are needing prayers. I stop and light one not really knowing who I am praying for, but it just feels right.
    I dip my hand in holy water and place a cross across my body.
    I make my way to the front of the church. I look up and see all the beautiful stained glass. Each one cascades a different light.
    The lights are dim and it’s creating a soft glow around the cross.
    We are in the season of Advent so the reds and gold’s are perfect shades.
    Up in the choir loft I hear the sweet sound of Christmas music, and I know immediately that it is the children’s chorus. They are singing Oh Holy Night, which is my all-time favorite Christmas Carol.
    I make my way to the third row which is the one I always sit at. I pull down the small bench under the pews for prayers.
    It is not long and I feel at peace. I get back up in the pew and just think about my life and where it is going. Can I actually have a relationship with her? Could I do what she did? Have a baby and just walk away? I know she had her reasons, but why not tell me as soon as she suspected? Was there ever a clue? I have asked myself who am I?
    I close my eyes and I pray. I say a prayer that I used to say when I was trying to kick my old habits.
    Lord,
    I commit my failures, as well as my successes into your hands, and I bring for your healing the people and the situations, the wrongs and the hurts of the past. Give me courage, strength, and generosity to let go and move on—leaving the past behind me, and living the present to the full. Lead me always to be positive as I entrust the past to your mercy, the present to your love, and the future to your providence.
    In your name I pray,
    Amen
    I guess I nod off because the next thing I know, I wake up and Patrice is right beside me. She has tears in her eyes.
    “Kayla, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but if you will listen to what I have to say, then I will leave you alone. Will you at least listen to me?”
    “Yes, I will.” I wipe a tear off my face and she grabs my hand, and I don’t pull away.
    “Kayla, can I tell you about my past and then you can make your choice?”
    I nod my head yes.
    “I was raised dirt poor. My dad was lower class and did not have a pot to piss in. He was a good man when he was not in a chemically induced state. He was much like you when I first met you, I swore that you looked just like him. My father had a lot of problems. I was told that he was a manic depressant and was bipolar. But he also had a drug problem. His drug of choice was Meth or some street terms that you would know are crank, chalk or speed. When he was high, he was meaner than a rattlesnake. He would say hateful things. I remember one night he was so messed up that he made me undress and stand in the kitchen on a bed of rice, because he thought I had lied about where my mom was.”
    “You see my mom passed away shortly after I was born. Everyone says that she died from complications of child birth. I have no memories of her at all. I stayed with my grandmother the majority of the time. She did her best but she was aging and when she passed I had no choice but to live with him. When I was a teenager and had my fill of the verbal abuse, I left. I did not have two wooden nickels to rub together, so I knew I would not get far