Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 5 (Kylie)

Ten years later

Washington

We all have our growing points, defining moments that shape us into who we become. Some take a

ride on the wild side just doing whatever the hell they like.

Maybe it's car racing, hiking, sky diving, drugs, anything to feel that pulse losing rhythm.

The outcome can go two ways, addiction or death, but hey, we're born to die any way, might as well

speed it up.

Others go through loss, that major kind, like their parents dying, sisters getting raped or brothers Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

getting murdered just because they tried to be men and walked through that forbidden dark corner. The

list goes on.

Those people take you to emotional levels most wouldn't even have nightmares about.

If you’re lucky enough and you love them, there is no passion greater than what they’ll give back to

you.

No matter how dark that road you walk on.

Then there are people like ME, who never searched for the freedom of choice, who was never burned

with the taste of death.

But one time in their life it all came crashing down and turned them into that soulless, jaded, ice cold

being. Until they were unrecognizable but for the sins they scorched on this earth.

“Kylie, we going to be late,” Diamond screams, but it's not louder than her fist going to war on the door.

Who knew she'll TURN into a banshee when I told her I’ll take her to the Catelli house.

My butt is glued to the edge of the bed.

I'm slipping on my white Prada shoes when her patience runs out and she comes barging in like a

princess on steroids.

Looking up I stare at my best friend since second grade as my black hair brushing my shoulders

reminds me I'm due for a cut.

I always keep it short in the summer. The ends curl wildly in the morning, and I'm too darn lazy to iron it

out every darn day.

My Grandma used to say, tame the tongue, smooth the hair, keep those fake smiles when needed

because it’s only going to give you wrinkles, and never forget to carry your boots.

“And I said we’ll get there when I'm ready since when did bitchiness ever rhyme with Diamond,” I drawl.

Her brown eyes spark.

Blonde hair now two shades darker swishes along her lower back, as she puts a hand on her hip

glaring at me,

“Since now and just because you have issues with your brother doesn't mean that I have to suffer, I

want to see Ren. Who knows when I’ll see him again Kylie.”

Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I fail miserably.

I stand up to my now full six foot three inch frame after the added four inch custom made designer

shoes I received as a gift from David last week and smirk,

“You saw him yesterday, and you are going to see him today, and most probably tomorrow and the next

day.” Watching as her face cracks, I continue,

“And the next day, and probably the day after that and the..”

Diamond bursts into a fit of teenager giggles, hands in the air surrendering,

“Okay, enough, you got me, I get the point, bitchiness and me are a no go.”

Smiling at this small glimpse of the teenage girl that peeps out of my genius friend every blood moon,

I pick my clutch off the hotel bed. My mood is lighter than it was five minutes ago.

The Stone Heart Palace hotel in Washington where we’re currently staying this weekend belongs to my

brother, Michael.

He bought it for basically pocket change three years ago, and has since turned it over into the best

hotel in Washington State using what he calls ‘Air energy’, and his impenetrable ‘lock n key’ computer

program, that is basically controlled over voice.

Once you book a room, your voice becomes activated to that room for the length of your stay.

From the shower running to pre-ordering room service, it's all managed by voice command. Pretty cool

and genius, but to Michael, it's not perfect.