Journey's Revenge

by Simone Kelly

Genres: Thrillers

Synopsis

After a chilling encounter, Journey Salazar and her father, Ty Carter, will never be the same.
 
Ty Carter has to come to grips with reality . . . his trouble is far from over. He is now under suspicion for a crime he didn’t commit. Marlon, Ty’s best friend and business partner, wants to see Journey pay for her evil wrongdoings. With all of the stress of being under the watchful eye of the media and the police, Ty does his best to make the peace between everyone involved. Journey, his estranged daughter with powerful psychic gifts, doesn’t want to face the music of her sins and twisted tricks of manipulation. Does she even have to? 
 
Journey awakens to a life that is no longer her own. While learning to deal with her own karma, she is befriended by Dominick, who is not only handsome, spiritual, and charming, but he also sees her for who she is. He’s fascinated by her talents and becomes intensely protective of her. He's happy to do whatever she wants to keep her satisfied. 
 
As he tries to keep his paranoia under wraps, Ty is under extreme pressure. Lucky for him, he’s supported by two women who love him. His grandfather, Papa is concerned about the family's secret psychic gifts causing harm to others and takes the steps to make sure the past doesn’t repeat itself.  
 
Will Journey’s jealousy create more havoc within the family? Can Marlon and Ty finally escape her venomous wrath and protect their reputations? Will Papa be able to protect the family legacy before Ty's children lose control?  Find out the answers as this psychic thriller unravels in Journey’s Revenge.

 

Release date: October 24, 2023

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Journey felt like she had been heavily sedated. Tick tock. Tick tock. Her body felt so weary. Tick tock . . . tick tock. The clock’s ticking sound was so loud in Journey’s ears. Her mouth was dry and felt sticky as if pasted with rubber cement glue. Journey slowly struggled to open her eyes that felt sealed shut.

Then she heard a soft whisper of a girl’s voice say, “Wake up. You’re missing out on life, sugar.”

Was she dreaming? She wondered where the hell she was. Her eyes slowly focused on a teenage girl, maybe about 17 years old, lying in the bed across from her. The room was white and light blue. Journey was freezing. Her vision was blurred. She could make out a girl sitting across from her. The young girl had sickly pale skin. She pushed her long, fluffy auburn curls behind her ears.

“Heeeey, Sleeping Beauty.” The girl’s blue eyes sparkled, and she smiled wide, revealing a small gap.

Although her skin was pale, Journey could see she was so full of energy. Journey wanted to reply, but her mouth refused to open. Her eyes followed the girl as she jumped out of her twin-sized bed and sat on the edge of Journey’s. She felt so lost. She wondered if she and the stranger were friends. She also wondered if she had finally gone crazy and ended up in a mental ward.

“I’m Francesca.” Her face was sprinkled with honey-colored freckles to compliment her hair. She pointed to the whiteboard near the edge of Journey’s bed that revealed her name.

Journey Salazar

“I see that you’re Journey. What a bad-ass name.” Her accent was strong, definitely not a city girl. Francesca had a serious twang when she spoke, a real Southern belle.

Journey’s brows crinkled as she struggled to speak.

“Take your time, girl.” Francesca encouraged her. “You probably just need some water, sugar.”

Journey glanced down at her body. She had bandages on her arm and neck. Francesca pointed to the water bottle near Journey’s bed.

Her voice was a raspy low whisper. “Thank you.” Journey took her time to move her arm. It felt weighed down with a sandbag. She couldn’t do it. She searched her unfamiliar surroundings, and a cyclone of fear enveloped her. Journey’s heart beat faster as the panic set in.

The chart on the door.

The intrusive beeping sounds from the machines.

The Get Well balloons.

The sterile smell of rubbing alcohol was smacking her in the face, alerting her that something terrible had happened to her. She felt like she just came out of the desert after walking for miles. “Hey, Fran . . . Fran . . . cesca. Where . . . Where are we?”

“Emory. Emory Hospital. We were in the ICU together and now, we’ve been moved. You’re stable now after your operations and all. Helloooooo . . . So wait, you don’t remember anything, huh?”

“No.” She looked at her wrist and noticed the hospital bracelet. Journey tried to move her arm again, but the IV restricted her. She also realized how her nails were longer than she kept them and painted a beautiful aqua color. The beautiful peacock tattoo sleeve on her arm was wrapped in bandages and peeking out at her. The peacock used to seem fuller and almost alive, but now it stared back at her, almost mocking her. Her arm had much less muscle tone as well.

Francesca slapped the hard mattress. “Girl, you are lucky to be alive! It was not your time, that’s all. You must have a lot of living left to do.” She had an old soul, sounding like someone’s Black grandma. Francesca lowered her voice. “I heard the nurses gossiping about you when they thought I was asleep. They said you tried to take yourself out.”

Journey examined the IV hooked up to her. Francesca’s hand brushed against her arm.

“You had a laahhht of broken bones, internal bleeding, brain injuries.... You a miracle, girl. You better thank God and baby Jesus.” She fell back and laughed. “You got a second chance. Them angels ain’t finna take you with them just yet.” She narrowed her eyes and whispered closely, “Suicide is a sin, Journey.”

A shiver ran through Journey’s body. She nodded slowly. “What? Suicide? I . . . didn’t . . . didn’t try to kill myself.” Her memory was foggy, but she knew that could not be right. She would never try to kill herself. Journey loved her life. She searched her mind for clues but had none. She had no idea how long she had been in this hospital.

“Well, it was all over the Atlanta news channels. You didn’t land on the bottom floor like you planned, or you would have definitely been dead. Splat!” She slapped her hands together. “You only fell a couple floors down on someone’s patio.” She laughed. “Them angels caught you, sugar! They said, nope not today, Satan!”

Journey was not amused by Francesca’s callus way of describing her near-death experience. A chill came across her body, and she felt an intense fear come back to her. It was a faint memory that she needed to escape to somewhere fast. Was she being chased? Did someone attack her? Journey swallowed as she felt chills go down her back. A burning house. She heard the roaring flames.

“Fiiiiire,” she mumbled. The fear of being trapped in a burning building resurfaced. “Fire. In the news, did they . . . did they mention the fire? Did anyone die?”

“Fire? Um, no chile. They said you were fighting with the people in the apartment. Causing a whole commotion. Arguing and stuff.” Her speech was rapid. “You was acting crazy, got mad, and jumped. I pray you get help, ’cause they might put you in the crazy house when you get outta here, so you better act normal and apologize. They said you kinda snapped. A psychotic episode. Do you take meds?”

Journey said, “What? No . . . no, that can’t be right. I remember seeing the flames. I felt the heat from the fire and all. I remember . . .”

Francesca gave her a look of pity and shook her head. “Journey, Journey . . . just feel your head. Was you high?”

Her arm was so stiff, as if she hadn’t moved it in years. She took her time to raise it and felt her forehead. She slowly slid her hand across her cold scalp. The hairs on Journey’s forearms rose. “Where’s my hair? My hair! Are you serious? Who did this to me?” She teared up as she felt a short buzz cut. Although it was gentle to the touch, soft like velvet, she felt violated. “Who the fuck cut off all my hair off?” Her heart raced.

“Relaaaaax. Hair grows back! They had to shave it for your brain surgery. You had two of them. You dived off of a damn building, girl. Would you rather have a lot of hair and be brain dead, or be bald now and heal later? They said you had swelling of the brain or something. If you could have seen how many doctors came in here to study your ass like a lab rat. I told you; you are a miracle. They even had med students in here learning. I could barely get any sleep myself. Like them raggedy li’l’ curtains block out the noise. Tuh!” She shook her head. “It was like you were a celebrity. You had a lot of visitors too.”

As she pointed around the room, Journey noticed the cards and flowers on the counters and shelves. Her eyes gazed up at the colorful Get Well Soon balloons in the corner of the room.

“It was hard to get some privacy. I’m so happy you woke up, though. Now, I can finally have some company. It’s been lonely up in here.” She shook her head. “But let me stop complaining.” Francesca slapped Journey’s leg and laughed. “Oops, sorry.”

Journey didn’t feel anything. Not one thing. She looked down and noticed her legs were like long poles under the white sheet. She looked malnourished. She used to have nice legs, not these long poles. This had to be a nightmare. She wanted to wake up from this terrible dream.

Francesca said, “Oh, yeah, you probably can’t feel that. Your spinal cord took a beating in that fall, they said.”

Journey tried to move her legs. Fear gripped at her heart. “What? Am I . . .”

“Paralyzed? I don’t think so. They been testing your reflexes and stuff. I heard them say you weren’t. You might be able to walk again. It’s just gonna take some time. You got enough fight in you, Journey.”

Footsteps were approaching. Francesca looked toward the door. “Oh, shit. He coming.” Francesca jumped back into her bed and pretended to be asleep.

A tall Latino man with sky-blue scrubs walked in. No, he glided in. His long strides were smooth and graceful. He had a low haircut and very neat goatee. Journey thought he had the most beautiful eyebrows and alluring hazel eyes. They opened wide when he saw Journey. He stopped in his tracks when their eyes met.

He came close to her and said in a soft voice, “You’re awake? Oh my God. You’re awake? Journey?” He put his fingers in front of her eyes, and Journey’s eyes followed them as he moved them from left to right. He laughed and then yelled toward the door. “She’s awake!” He ran out, and Journey thought he was the doctor or a nurse or something. He got some more people to enter the room, and everyone started cheering and clapping.

She looked to her left and saw Francesca lying in her bed, smiling, peeking from under her covers like a child who was up way past her bedtime.

He sat down next to her. “Hi, Journey. I’m Dominick, your medical assistant. Can you hear me? Can you understand me? Squeeze my hand if you can understand me.”

She tried to squeeze but was so weak. She felt a light twitch. That was the most that she could do.

“That’s it. Good job, Journey.”

She thought he was so fine. Not really her type, but fine nonetheless. His long, dark lashes drew her in to examine his handsome face. Dominick’s right hand had a dramatic tattoo on the fingers that extended all the way up to his forearm. They were streaks of lightning bolts in hues of purple, red, and black. She stared at it, amazed by the detail. He had a work of art on his body.

“I’m so glad to have you back.” His voice was so soothing. It was deep and calming. She knew that voice. She remembered hearing him in her dreams. Dominick. Yes, she thought, he tells me stories. He talks to me. He plays me music. In my dreams? Or was it real? Dominick. Just hearing his name made her feel safe. She relaxed, realizing that he was one of the people who took care of her. Journey tried to smile.

“Oh my. What’s that?” He banged on the tray table over her bed. “Is that a smirk, Journey? Are you smiling? I feel your hand squeezing. It’s gentle, but I felt you. You’re doing great, mama. That’s it.” He almost looked like he was tearing up.

More people entered the room. He looked up. “Dr. Amadi! Thank God you’re here. She’s awake!”

The doctor came in with two nurses. Dominick quickly got out of the way. Dr. Amadi was a short man, stocky, with deep chocolate skin with glasses. He had a soft African accent. “Is it easier to blink? Just blink twice for yes.”

Journey opened her mouth slightly. For some reason now, when she tried to speak, nothing came out. Francesca had heard her just fine, but nothing worked with them. She blinked twice, but felt so helpless. She felt so lost not being able to put the pieces of her memories together.

Who are all of these people?

After all of the clapping and cheering, the doctor said, “I’m going to alert her mother.”

Journey just wondered, Why isn’t she here? Why would she leave me here with these strangers?

A female doctor came in, cheesing so hard. “Hi, Journey. I’m Dr. Alexander.” She was a slender, tall black woman with cat-rimmed glasses. She had a beautiful pyrite crystal around her neck, hanging from a gold chain that looked like a big gold nugget. It sparkled when the light shined on her. She had style. Journey liked her energy a lot. She started to shine a tiny flashlight in Journey’s eyes and started examining her.

“We’re just checking your vitals to make sure you are okay. You’ve been asleep for a long time, my dear.” Journey could hear a slight Southern twang in her voice, but it sounded as if she were trying to cover it with a more proper accent.

The doctor put the stethoscope to Journey’s heart. “My, my, you’re just as excited as we are. Can you take a few deep breaths with me, Journey?” Dr. Alexander then took a dramatic deep breath. Her chest heaved as she tried to show Journey what she wanted her to do.

Journey tried to copy her but could not fill up her lungs as powerfully as Dr. Alexander had.

“That’s it, that’s good. You’re doing it.” The doctor encouraged her as she patted her hand.

There was an audience of the medical team behind her. Journey was so confused and afraid, but the doctor had a motherly energy that soothed her. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Journey felt all these eyes on her, and this sudden shame came crashing down on her. They were judging her. They were pitying her. She was furious, since she would never try to kill herself. A psychotic episode? That was not her!

There is nothing wrong with me, she thought. She had so many questions. Who did this to her? How long had she been there? She had to remember. She wanted her life back.

Journey fell into a deep sleep and woke up to a warm hand holding hers. She heard soft sniffling and crying. “Jesus! Thank God you’re really awake. Nini, my baby. I thought you slipped back into a coma. You had us so worried.” The woman kissed her on her forehead and caressed her face. “Thank you, God!”

Her mother looked different from how Journey remembered her. She had gained some weight in her face. Her normal black bob had streaks of silver as if she had forgotten to dye her hair.

She thought, How long have I been here? Journey felt like she had been transported into a damn time machine. She wondered why she couldn’t speak. She could blink, but nothing would come out of her mouth. She had this sudden urgency to leave but felt so trapped.

Journey looked behind her mother to see Francesca making eye contact. Maybe she could ask for her help in translating, since Francesca could hear her loud and clear, but her curtain was closed now. Maybe she was sleeping.

Her mom rubbed Journey’s legs, and she felt something brush against her. It was a very light sensation. Her legs still couldn’t move. She blinked rapidly to let her know she was fully awake.

“Can you try to speak? Can you say something, Nini?”

She tried to open her mouth slowly, but nothing came out.

Dominick came back in. He said softly to her mother, “Como es ella?” He leaned over Journey. “How are you doing, mama? Are you in any pain? Blink twice for yes, once for no.”

She blinked once.

“Do you know why you are here?” her mother asked.

She blinked once.

“You were with Ty. Your father. You had us all worried you fell from—”

Dominick touched her shoulder softly and whispered, “Maybe don’t go there just yet.”

Her head snapped back. “Can you please give me some time alone with my daughter, Dominick?”

Journey knew that tone all too well.

He nodded quickly. “Sure, sure.” He left quietly, looking back with a smirk.

Her memories were blurry but coming back slowly. She remembered going to Ty’s apartment. That’s where the fire was. Tyler Carter, sperm donor #1544. Her father. She remembered there was a scuffle, a bad fight. Journey blinked, trying to wash the memory away.

Was I the cause of the fight?

Her mom interrupted her thoughts. “I don’t know why on Earth you’d want to hurt yourself. You have a wonderful life that any girl would dream of. I gave you everything you ever wanted, Nini. I’m so glad you didn’t succeed.” Her eyes got misty. “You almost left me alone. You better never try this shit again.” She started to blow her nose. “I’m going to get you top-notch therapy and help you get back to your old self again. I might even hire Dominick to help us when we bring you home. You’ll see. It will all work out.” She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.

“Maybe your sister Elizabeth can come back to visit longer and stay with us for a bit. She did mention she would be willing to help since she does her schooling virtually. I think her doing Reiki on you last week is what woke you up. She is very talented. That was her birthday gift to you. She’s such a kind soul.”

Her sister Elizabeth? Journey suddenly got excited at the thought of her sister. She was amazed that Elizabeth had come all the way from Cali to see her. She was disappointed that she didn’t even get to meet her in person after all this time video chatting. They had met through the sibling registry for the New Life Fertility Group.

She thought that Elizabeth was still mad at her. Journey had withheld the truth about meeting their father Ty for over a month. Elizabeth was very upset with her secrecy and felt Journey was hogging Ty all to herself. Journey had to admit it that she was being selfish. She had wanted to build the strongest relationship with Ty and be his favorite. Journey had been the first to contact him, so in her mind, she deserved to foster the closest relationship with their father. After all, it was only fair since out of the siblings that she knew, she was the only one without a stepdad in her life. However, her greediness had backfired, and now she felt that all of her plans had failed.

Her mom’s voice was hopeful, as if she were trying to convince herself. “You’ll be teaching yoga again in no time. And you’ll register again for college, so you can finish your degree.” Her mom rubbed Journey’s bony knee while she looked up at the ceiling and squinted as if trying to hold back more tears.

Journey screamed in her mother’s mind.

“I did not try to kill myself. I didn’t do this to myself, Mommy. I don’t need help.”

Her mom jerked back as if she had heard her telepathic message, but she didn’t say anything.

Journey still didn’t know how long she had been in that bed and was frustrated. She wanted to scream until the entire hospital heard her. Her chest heaved in frustration.

Her mom stroked Journey’s soft peach fuzz on her head and stared at her. Journey closed her eyes, and a tear cascaded down her cheek. “Oh, don’t worry, Nini. Oh, my poor baby. You will heal, my love.” She wiped her tears. “You will be able to speak and walk again soon with therapy. The doctors are hopeful. You passed many tests so far. Everyone has been rooting for you these last two months.”

These last two months.

These last . . . two months?

She was frozen with that new revelation. Two months? She couldn’t believe it had been that long. That freaking long? Her eyes scanned the room and noticed some Christmas decorations pinned up over the whiteboard. A Santa and some reindeer cut-out designs were on the door. Last she remembered, it was September. She missed her twenty-third birthday. Sadness took over. Her chest felt heavy.

Her mother rambled on. “You are sooooo loved.” She waved her hand across the room, and Journey’s eyes followed the display of flowers and cards on the windowsill once again. She showed Journey a photo on her phone. There was a beautiful Latino girl that stood out first. She had shiny ebony curls and wore a hoody with baggy pants. Her honey-colored eyes and lashes were long, just like Journey’s. Two boys embraced the girl in a loving sandwich. One was very tall and lanky with deep chocolate skin and a low haircut, almost bald. The other boy was a little shorter and stockier with long blond dreads and very pale skin, almost a little sunburned on his nose. Although they all had different skin tones, they resembled one another. The eyes and lips were similar: almond-shaped eyes and curvaceous lips. Their eyes lit up, exuding so much joy.

“See, your sister and brothers came to see you. Do you remember them?”

Journey blinked twice, realizing who they were. OMG, THE FANTASTIC FOUR! Her crew, her siblings. She’d only met them on video. She was so sad that she had missed them in person. Robbie, Zack, and Elizabeth.

Her throat got tight, trying to hold back the roar of sadness from missing everything. Tears came down uncontrollably now. Journey’s cries were loud, like a tortured animal. The loud sound frightened her mother. A nurse peeked in the room to make sure everything was okay. Her mother waved her away to let her know everything was fine.

“Oh, it’s okay, baby. Yes, they were so happy to see you too. You are so loved.”

She kissed her daughter’s hand. “Elizabeth worked on you daily, doing Reiki and other interesting stuff. She had crystals on you. Was ringing bells and rattles. The nurses thought she was a bruja! It was hysterical.” She laughed. “But that magic works. Look at you, you’re up. You’re up! Some people are in a coma for years. We are so blessed. God gave you a second chance, my love. I’m going to let you rest some more.”

Journey knew she had unfinished business to handle, but it was still a bit foggy to her. For now, she would milk this time for what it was worth until she could plan her next move. She knew one thing; she had to get better and fast. This bedridden life was not for her.

To Ty’s surprise, Journey had survived her tragic jump from his building. He knew for sure now—she had to be a witch. No wonder Papa was so concerned about her being a danger to the family. It was a miracle to have fallen two floors and not be totally brain dead or paralyzed. Eyewitnesses saw her dive off the balcony as if jumping into a pool. He still couldn’t believe it.

It had been two months since his world was flipped upside down. There had been a few rumors and lots of speculation about what really went down, but Ty has tried his best to stay away from it all. He figured it would just go away because he really didn’t think she was ever going to wake up from her coma. That was, until he got the call today.

Claudia yelled ecstatically, “Ty! Ty! She’s awake. She’s awake!”

“Wow, she is? That’s . . . uh, that’s great news, Claudia.” He pulled up the collar on his jacket to shield his neck from the winter chill. He was happy that it wasn’t a video call, since his face couldn’t hide his disappointment. Ty saw his reflection in the building’s glass door, and it was a look of pure fear in his eyes. He fidgeted with his construction hat and took a deep breath to hear the full story. He was at work observing the updates on his latest building in downtown Atlanta.

“Is she alert? Talking yet?” There was something deep down in him, telling him that she would deny everything that had occurred or just straight up lie. Journey was the type to twist things and not take responsibility for her actions. A real manipulator. He thought she probably woke up with an evil vengeance. She was probably just as obsessed as the day she had caused all that havoc in his penthouse apartment.

Claudia rambled, almost out of breath. “Yes, the doctors say her vital signs are strong, and it’s amazing after what she’s been through. She’s not talking yet, but she responds by blinking or squeezing your hand. Her eyes follow you. I can tell she’s struggling to talk, but it’s not time yet. She’s been crying a lot too.” . . .