Introduction
Beloved,
We’ve reached the end of the Kalim Brothers and boy has it been a ride. Out of all three brothers, Amell holds the crown for being the hardest story to write. The amount of spiritual warfare I endured, especially towards the end, God pushed me through. I promised the book in April but I needed these additional months to deliver a stellar conclusion to the men we have fallen in love with.
I warn you now nothing about Amell’s story is cotton candy and roses. He’s an enigma. He’s dark. Some parts will make you cry. Some parts will make you wanna throw the whole book across the room. But this I promise you; the journey is earth-shattering and worth the ride.
You wanted to know Amell. You wanted to understand who he is. You wanted to know his backstory. I delivered a work of art that I pray you digest and savor in its entirety. It does not start off where Cassian’s story ended. I refused to do that because so much needed to be said. Needed to be explained. If you have not read Atlas and Cassian’s story, I ask that you do so before entering Amell’s world. To understand him is to love him, and before you take this journey, I need you to become familiar with the man who tested all levels of my sanity and creativity.
There are scenes of cruel inhuman violence. Scenes of murder and gruesome heartbreak. Scenes of child abuse and a glimpse into rape. If ANY of that is NOT your cup of tea, please skip this read. Amell’s story is dark and I don’t want anything told in this fiction story to be a trigger for anyone. Again, this is a fiction story crafted from my imagination.
It may take you a few reads to fully digest all the gems in this book, and that’s completely okay. Grab some wine, a box of tissues, and open your mind.
P.S.
If the ride gets too bumpy, slide in my DM’s and I’ll help you get through it.
P.P.S.
Oh, yeah. I brought along some old faces to help me.
XOXO,
Chelsea Maria
Amell,
I dedicate this poem to you, my love.
In and Out of Time by Maya Angelou…
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance...
our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor, I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honeybees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honeycomb there
Mmmm... God how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens... loudly screamed...
Trying to change our nightmares into dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out in and out in and out
of time.
Back in time…
Let’s go back. Way back. Back into time… Amell 13 years old
“They’re your kids. You wanted them, so take care of them. Sign the papers and stop being ridiculous. I’ve moved on with my life and you all need to do the same.”
I counted all the way to ten before the begging and pleading started. It was the same cycle; she called demanding that he signs the divorce papers and then he would start crying. My dad had changed and not for the better. Before he lost his job and we dropped down from a blue-collar family to poverty-stricken, I admired him. Looked up to him as a man and wanted to be like him. His love for numbers became my love for numbers.
It was because of him that I enjoyed going to the library and reading books on wealth and knowledge. It was because of the influence that he had over me that I skipped two grades and started high school this year as a freshman at thirteen years old. My smarts and intellect came from him. He always told me that the most feared man in the world is an educated black man. I saw how strangers reacted to my father. Most feared him because of the color of his skin and others feared him because of the knowledge between his ears.
Along with reading the same books he read I learned his mannerisms. Most weren’t required of me to learn because I had them. He and I were silent thinkers. Silent doers. We thought before we acted. We calculated before we decided. Dad told me if I perfected those skills, I’d be a dangerous man who would have all of his desires in the palm of his hand.
“Why should I have to suffer with these kids by my damn self? We can give them to the state and go on about our lives like we planned. Remember those dreams, Gail? Remember how much we loved each other, baby?”
Knots formed in my stomach hearing my dad’s feelings spoken out loud. The nights he cried for her, I cried too. The nights he beat me because he was frustrated and needed to release his anger, I took those beatings with no hate in my heart because I felt like it was just as much my fault that she left. Mom claimed that the lifestyle my dad promised her had been a lie. He’d always spoil her with nice gifts and trips. Up until she left us I admired their display of love. It made me smile. It made my brothers smile.
Dad losing his job not only ruined her fairytale but also my perception of a happy marriage.
When my friends would talk about their families and how they only had one parent or their parents argued too much, I always smiled internally because I didn’t know what unhappiness looked like. Either my parents did a great job of hiding it or I ignored it.
Before dad lost his job my mom and I were distant. I always wanted to have a close relationship with my parents. Dad and I bonded naturally as father and son, but when it came to my mom, I saw the underlying distaste for me since I wore Spider-Man undies. I was probably no smaller than Atlas at five years old when it all began.
My grades were superb, and I stayed out of trouble. Report card days were my favorite. I’d rush home and shove the bland crumpled yellow paper in her face so she could see that I got all A’s for her. Always excelling for her. She’d smile, kiss me on my cheek and tell me how proud she was, but then I’d find her with a tilted head peering at me as if she despised me.
When Cassian came along the looks weren’t my own to receive. Then came Atlas. I don’t know what shifted when they were born but I started feeling the same way towards her. My brothers were my brothers. My best friends and I’d do anything to protect them from her and dad.
Part of me felt relieved when she left. I had a sudden joy that the dark clouds in our home would become bright skies and we’d be happy again. Dad and I would become best friends and he’d teach me everything. Everything I needed to learn to be like him. None of that happened. What happened left me sore in the mornings and lying to my teachers about why I had black eyes and bruises.
Wiping my face free of tears, I leaned back against the wall and continued listening to their conversation. If dad knew I was sitting outside his bedroom eavesdropping on his call he’d beat me for it. He found any reason to hit me and attempt to hit Cassian and Atlas. Though Cassian sometimes deserved it with his slick mouth and constant need of pranking people, I’d never let anyone hurt him.