Pursuing The Plug 2 Read online

  Contents

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  Synopsis

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Let’s connect!

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  © 2019 Royalty Publishing House

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  Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the author or publisher. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 16+ only.

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  Synopsis

  For the first time in life, Heavy, for the Jones’, is an understatement.

  Heavy hearts.

  Heavy loads.

  Heavy thoughts.

  Heavy losses.

  In the second and final installment of Pursuing the Plug, discover the depths of pain after losing everything you love. There hasn’t been a single situation that someone amongst the entire clan didn’t have a solution to. That was up until now. Up until the heavy hearts, loads, thoughts and losses. Join the first family as they begin to piece together the life that’s left within them with hope of a better tomorrow because almost anything is better than their yesterday.

  To my day ones, this one is for you. Enjoy.

  Prologue

  Silence filtered into the room with each excruciatingly agonizing second that loudly ticked by on the old wooden clock in the corner. It merged itself into the oxygen molecules as if it belonged there. It had become their comfort—their solace—although it was a horrible idea considering the inner turmoil each suffered through on a daily basis.

  Years passed but the pain was fresh. There was not a day lived after the tragedy where she wasn’t thought of. Hampsher began to only correlate the feeling of pain with her mother because that’s what she felt without her there with her. Years had passed indeed, but for her young daughter you couldn’t convince her that the terrifying images that replayed in her mind didn’t occur recently. The pain was fresh. Like earlier that morning fresh. No matter what her grandparents said or did, nothing moved their granddaughter.

  A look was passed between the two as they did their usual, which consisted of worrying about Hampsher more than they worried about self. She was all they had left. After being in their custody for so long she was just as much theirs as she was their daughter’s. Hampsher was their all and the lifelessness within her was horrifying to say the least. Leeriness lingered with loneliness as they reflected on how deeply they missed her mother.

  As stated silence had become comfortable. It felt okay to be wrapped up in your emotions in your own mind. They could grieve in peace without feeling like their sadness increased Hampsher’s. By the darkening of her eyes and the poor posture she’d developed it was the last thing she needed to see. It’d only encourage her to travel deeper into her own personal hell.

  “How do you like the food, Momma?” Baby questioned as the sound of forks scrapping across porcelain plates shook her to the core.

  Hampsher’s eyes glided up to admire the beautiful aged features of her grandmother. Even at her age one would think she was merely approaching her prime. Time had only contributed to making her more beautiful. More like how Hampsher imagined her mother would look if she hadn’t been stripped of the very essence that ensured she was alive. Hampsher frowned as her thoughts darkened. Just that quickly she’d lost all interest in holding a conversation with her grandmother. It hurt too much to look or listen. Everything about Baby reminded Hampsher of what she’d lost.

  “Momma?”

  Hampsher sighed heavily, however she kept her eyes down at the plate that was as heavy as she felt. “You did well,” Hampsher complimented with little to no enthusiasm. She’d barely touched the prepared meal; however she knew her grandmother was a beast in the kitchen. It took no effort to bank on a bomb meal even if she barely tasted it.

  Hampsher suffered more than others knew. Just the thought of savoring a meal challenged her. She’d wonder why she should enjoy food when her mother couldn’t. Her thought process was all the way fucked up and nothing she did improved her mood. Only when she entertained the idea of avenging her mother was she able to breathe as she was created to do. Only those moments made her mind clear and settled her soul. It was dangerous because every day Hampsher became more codependent on the thought of avenging her mother to assist her in feeling alive. Not even breathing did that for her. Hampsher felt it was the only way. She had to do it.

  The issue lied in the fact that she had no clue on where to begin. She was no femme fatale by nature, but loss offered to turn her into one. Though she was raised in her grandparent’s loving home, Hampsher without a doubt believed she would become a femme fatale. And not just any but the best to do it. She yearned to be a savage.

  Hampsher’s free time was spent online researching weapons among other things. She was consumed with using her undeniable beauty to listen to the rumblings of the underground. No fish had paused to bite yet, but Hampsher was hopeful that she’d find what she sought most. It was the way of the world.

  “May I be excused?” she questioned in a quiet voice. She hardly ever spoke louder than necessary. No one could remember the last time they’d seen her smile. It was missed—like Hampsher missed her mother, and since there was no way to bring back the dead, it seemed as if there was no way to return her smile. All was truly lost.

  Baby looked to Papa with sadness in her eyes. She often spoke her concerns aloud and he prayed for ways in which he could fix it. Each time left him even more lost. As the man in the family it was his duty to show Hampsher what strength was. Her father was no longer around, unable to live with the guilt of that dreadful night. He was the only man she could trust. Because of this, he attempted to push his weight around with her. It never worked. Hampsher may have been sad, but she still had a mind of her own. She knew what she wanted and the dinner Baby prepared wouldn’t change her mind. If it contributed in any way, i
t was merely to delay the inevitable.

  “Yes,” Papa answered in a defeated tone. Baby’s eyes swelled with moisture as it dawned on her that this would be Hampsher’s last meal with them until only heaven knew when. They’d felt her drifting away long before the announcement was made about her departure. No amount of arguing made her see life through their eyes. They only could live with the remnants of knowing that they tried.

  Hampsher gave a single nod, shot to her feet, then towards her bedroom. As she pushed the door aside to step in everything looked the same. It was fully furnished. Complete wardrobe in the closet and personal items scattered about. Hampsher’s chest rose and fell right before she got to work.

  An hour later, she’d cleaned the space spotless. The room looked just as it had the day she moved inside. Every single trace of her was gone. Hampsher stood in the doorway trying to rummage her mental rolodex for some connection to the room to emerge. All she was met with were the distant sounds of her cries. Night after night she broke down between those four walls. Despite this, she never grew tired of the purging of her soul.

  She’d been experiencing the longest dark night of soul known to man and she’d found her way out. Nothing about her out was normal. It fit her shapely form like a second skin considering Hampsher had never been normal. Even when her mother was alive and she had her father around she didn’t live like the average child. She’d been given more than her little hands could hold and filled with more than just food. Truthfully, Hampsher had it made; until she didn’t.

  With a small shake of her head she backed out of the room and began to venture down to the front door. She felt like Dorothy must’ve felt as she followed the yellow brick road determined to make it back home. Though they both traveled Hampsher wasn’t looking to go home. She didn’t feel as if she’d had one since everything she knew was ripped away from her. No, Hampsher was destined for a different path. The Wizard of Oz she searched for high and low had been found. New York was the place and Hampsher couldn’t wait another day. Her restlessness was driving her mad. If she didn’t leave she would surely die by either her own hands or her body shutting down from the neglect. Either way Hampsher had to get lost. Destiny was calling and she was ready to pick up the phone.

  Her grandparents had finished dinner and retreated to the living room where they waited while holding hands. When Hampsher emerged they both grew excited because she appeared as if she’d changed her mind about leaving. Hampsher had made no such decision and the couple learned merely seconds after their faces stretched wide from smiling.

  “Momma, you’ve decided to stay?”

  “No, I am leaving,” Hampsher spoke softly. Only then as their smiles faded away did they notice the lone box sitting by the front door. It was neither big nor small. It just looked lonely.

  “You’re not taking anything else with you?”

  Hampsher paused thinking over her grandmother’s question. She could surely take a pair of socks, a brush or something. However, she opted out of it once again. She felt it would be best if she simply left with her body, her mind and her burning desire for revenge. That was all she needed to get by.

  Hampsher motioned to the box with a tip of her head, “Everything that I need is there.” Inside the box lay her most precious memories of her mother. Next to it was her violin. Baby and Papa felt as if they could breathe again when they spotted the case. The violin settled their nerves, for they knew she would not be alone. She would have her music. As long as she had her music she had an outlet. That was all they wanted for her. To have a way to escape and allow herself to just be. “I will see you soon,” Hampsher kept the affection that she wanted to give to herself. She didn’t feel it was the right time while she was unsure of who she was or who she’d become. She owed her grandparents that love if only for a second, yet she was still unable to deliver.

  With her items in hand Hampsher walked out of the door and paused feeling the arctic air swirl around her face. Her train from Philly to New York was leaving soon so she didn’t have much time to rethink her decision. Hampsher planned it that way. She didn’t want time to doubt the journey she was about to embark on. All she wanted to do was get it done. Tucking the box underneath her arm Hampsher left the safety net of her grandparent’s home behind. She kept her eyes straight ahead. Even as she felt the distance ripping away the last resemblance of normality that she had she continued to put one foot in front of the other. One step at a time, Hampsher coached herself until she was nearly minutes from the train station.

  Standing in line to check in the world buzzed around Hampsher. She’d been cooped up so long that she forgot life went on. No one cared whether or not she was sad. People died every single day. People lose people they never imagined living without. And life just goes on. Being around so many people had a way of making Hampsher feel small. If it weren’t for the weight of her box and violin case she wouldn’t have felt grounded. Hampsher was floating somewhere between reality and fantasy. It was a dangerous head space but she’d been levitating there so long it felt right.

  The clerk at the counter checked the emotionless woman in. She’d attempted to smile at her but got no warmth in return. Hampsher’s face was as smooth as marble and permanently frowned like a statue made of stone. After realizing there would be no reciprocity she quickly completed the task at hand and sent Hampsher on her way.

  Hampsher was the first person in line as the train attendant announced the arrival of the soon to be departing train. With no time to waste she made her transition from outside into the cab painless for the attendant by having her documentation in hand.

  “Have a nice trip ma’am.” The attendant wished Hampsher well as she left him behind to search for her designated seat.

  It wasn’t until she was seated comfortably that her shoulders began to slowly relax. They dived even lower when the train took off with no one coming to occupy the same part of the cab as her. With no clue as to what lie ahead, the train ride was the perfect time to get her mind right, and that’s exactly what she did as her train moved from the windy streets of Philly to the cold streets of New York.

  “Last stop Grand Central Station New York, New York,” boomed over the intercom, removing Hampsher from the trance she’d fallen into on her journey to the big apple. Hampsher gathered her box and violin then made a bee line for the doors being opened by manmade mechanics.

  One foot landed on the ground and suddenly Hampsher was alive. She hadn’t traveled for no reason. She wasn’t there for the scenery. Now that she’d touched down in the city she had a purpose. Truthfully one that scared the crap out of her, but she was determined to get it done. Her determination would be her uprising.

  Glancing at the watch that adorned her wrist Hampsher confirmed that she was ahead of schedule as planned. Being a newbie to such a vast city caused for her to include extra time to ensure she made it where she needed to go. Hampsher was turning over a new leaf. The last thing she wanted to do was appear unprofessional by being tardy.

  Nearly an hour elapsed before she’d successfully made it to her destination. Before erasing the distance between the street and the front door Hampsher’s eyes swept the street from top to bottom. After feeling as if it were secure she ventured inside.

  Upon entrance a handsomely tall chocolate man pocketed his phone halting his stance on the wall. Hampsher could feel the lust rolling off him in powerful waves but she paid it no mind. She had bigger fish to fry than him. Had it been another time, another place and she’d been another girl, she’d happily entertain the lust in his eyes. Hampsher knew better though. A woman on a mission had no room for love and lust. Perhaps down the road when she felt comfortable in her new role hooking up would be possible. For the time being it was as dead as her insides. He had nothing to offer her except for the resident lodging behind the door they barreled towards.

  A key was inserted into a lock, turned, then pushed aside as access was granted to the wide open space. “So, this is-”

&
nbsp; Hampsher’s eyes took one sweep of the place before she was cutting him off with the words, “I’ll take it.”

  “Wha-what? Are you sure?” the realtor questioned, looking bamboozled. He was certain that he would have to damn near sell his soul to get Hampsher to agree to purchase. The finality in her eyes clued him in on how serious she was. Internally he was aggravated with how much talking he’d done from the building’s entrance to the place they stood between the hallway and the threshold. He was skeptical because she hadn’t taken one foot inside, yet she wanted the space. He wanted to inquire more but didn’t in fear that he’d run her off. “Okay, well great.”

  Hampsher nodded oblivious to his smile. Just as their eyes connected she told him, “I will also take the others.”

  “Others?”

  “Yes. This space, the one next door, down the street and around the corner,” Hampsher nodded her head firmly. “Each space you prepared to show me I want.” On the way to meet with the realtor, Hampsher had made a pit stop. It’d been necessary for the exchange to be possible. Tossing the duffle bag full of newly printed bills Hampsher waited for him to agree. “That’s what you would’ve charged, plus more, the sooner you can guarantee me the rental spaces.”

  Unable to help himself he bent down to siphon through what seemed like endless bills. He made good money as a relator but never that much for the properties he was showing to Hampsher. They were the furthest from upscale and should’ve sold for less but if she was offering to pay him double the worth then he wasn’t fool enough to turn down her offer.