Abbye Kovacevic’s #SundaySnips *2*

This is week two for me in Sunday Snips. This is also an unedited part of Demolition Mafia (which may end up being the series name and book 1 may take on a different title within the series).

*contains profanity*

“Jarvick, are you serious right now?” My arms were crossed over my chest as I paced back and forth in my small law office. It wasn’t huge and the window view sucked. But I was only an intern, so I was grateful to even have one at all. “How does this make me look? How do I explain this? How will I ever be credible as a lawyer?” I was almost screeching by this point and my brother was not enjoying it. I was relived he had remembered to close the door when he came in. “You and Daddy have turned my entire life, my entire education, all my hard work – into a fucking joke.”

My brother remained silent as I bitched and bitched at him. Still, I wanted to punch him right in the jaw. “Do you really have nothing to say? Not even a hey, Gracie, fuck you. It was easy to ruin your life? Well, at least you were right. I see it now. I didn’t know everything you two did. I also completely understand why the two of you forced me into college. But couldn’t someone have convinced me not to pursue law?” I let a horrible sounding laugh escape. It was ironic. “How will I explain to future employers why I have this pricey Harvard degree and don’t – wait – can’t use it?” By this time I was so angry, I kicked the side of my desk.

“Gracie, we didn’t want to tell you. It’s why I told you to go away. To forget this life. To get a better one. To leave us all behind and never look back. I wanted better for you.” Jarvick, for a rare moment, showed a streak of emotion on his face. Sadness? Hurt? “Trying to push you from becoming a lawyer would have taken too much explaining. It would have involved you too far in what we really do. You’d have wanted to know why and only the full truth could have explained it.” He moved over to stand against the window sill with both hands in his pockets as he spoke.

“So this is better?” I was almost screaming. “Am I not involved now? Did you think my being a lawyer would never put me in a position such as this? But now, I still don’t know the full story, and it’s cost me years of my life in education and it’s going to cost me my internship – which I’m almost done with – and my future career.”

“You didn’t know what we were doing. You still don’t. There’s been no full disclosure, Gracie. You should be safe. It’s on us.” Jarvick shook his head. “If you’d have just stayed somewhere else. Why did you have to come home?”

“I missed my family. I wanted Daddy to be proud of me. In any case, no full disclosure likely isn’t going to matter. I can’t prove I don’t know.”

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Abbye Kovacevic’s #SundaySnippet

Not only does my blog have a new face-lift for today (I’ve been told on many occasions that it’s too plain – seeing how I can barely manage to blog-not since October of last yer, as I can’t think of anything to say, I thought it didn’t make a difference), but I’m also trying out Sunday Snippets this week.

Here’s a small part of Demolition Mafia this week.

At eighteen years old…
           
            “Daddy, I know what you and Jarvick do. I’m old enough to make my own choices. I’m a woman now. You’ve said so yourself. And I’ve decided I want in.” I stamped my foot on the living room carpet, reverting back to being six years old while protesting to be a woman.
            “No. No you do not know what we do. You believe you know, Malisa. Nor will I allow you to make the choice to be in. This is not some simple college entrance application.” My father looked tired, so it was difficult for me to determine if he was angry, sad, or simply too tired. Over the last four years it was as though he had aged twenty.
            At eighteen I had long black hair, slightly past my waist, and piercing green eyes. My father’s hair, my mother’s eyes and build. I was not petite, nor was I an amazon. My parents had gifted me with great genetics. At five foot nine, with curves in all the right places, I’d learned early on to use my looks – or my father’s name – to get me what I wanted.
            Unfortunately, looks didn’t work on Jared or Jarvick Pavlovic.
            “Gracie, listen to reason.” My brother was almost pleading with me. “An MC isn’t for women. The only place you have is as of the old lady of some man. He’ll boss you around and you’ll be expected to do exactly as he says. We both know that doesn’t work for you.” Jarvick ran his hand through his hair. “Go to college, Gracie. Get a degree and a real job. Leave this to us. This is your chance to get away from it all. Take it.”

            I had been accepted into Harvard. It had been a complete surprise. The application I had filled out just so my parents would get off my back actually got an acceptance letter.