In a journey for retribution, lines blur between courage, justice, and revenge.
Married since 2005, Erica resides in Las Vegas, Nevada with her four children and can often be found satisfying her sweet-tooth with chocolate-chip cookies and a glass of milk. One day, she hopes to dust off her collegiate rugby skills and dive back into the game.
Facts about the Author
1. I will never forget meeting my first child, Ty. There is nothing like all the emotions and firsts that a newborn brings!
2. The best thing about writing is tapping into emotions and experiences from my past and inviting imagination to bring it all back to life in new light.
She didn’t recognize me, but I figured she wouldn’t.
After seven years, I wasn’t the same scared kid hiding behind locked doors. I would never be that boy again.
Kate had grown up, too. If I hadn’t done my research, I don’t know that I would have recognized her off the street either. She wore make up with deep purple eyeshadow that emphasized her pale blue eyes, and her lips were touched with pink gloss. Her face had lost the childish roundness that I remembered, fading the young innocence of the eleven-year-old I once knew. But I was well aware that the loss of innocence had more to do with life’s cruel blows than mere aging.
Even now, she still carried that protective tension in her expression. I had seen it resurface when I’d been so absorbed with the picture of Luke. I hadn’t meant to stare. But it was crazy to see him so big now—at least, in comparison to the seven-year-old boy I’d known. He must be fourteen now, and even still, I’d caught the fierce change in Kate’ demeanor when I’d held onto the photo too long. She had always been a shield to her little brother. That, obviously, had not changed.
I stepped out from behind the bus where I’d been hiding. Kate had crossed the mall parking lot by now and was entering through the double doors on her way to work. I had every intention of telling her—reminding her—of who I am. But maybe our shared past was not one she cared to remember, or deserved to relive. My plans were set and I would follow through with or without her. But if I could trust her—if she wanted to help—I would tell her everything.
But that would be for another time.
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