Muffle: A Love like Luna's

By Laikyn Meng

All Mum's The Word Books can be read as Standalones.

This gripping story begins with a mother's desperate sacrifice for her daughter's life - a chilling twist of fate that has the power to tear apart the lives of those closest to her. Asher's fists are clenching his hair, screaming into the phone, a parade of scared no's aimed

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Orange 9 Publishing Company LLC
• Release date: Jul 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781088190906

Book preview

Prologue

by Olallie Lovett-Krause

Idon’t speak any language except silence.

This is my mother's story. When I could not speak, she was my voice. Every time I turned to hear someone, she listened for me. In these chapters, I hope to do the same as she did for me. She let me be heard. So, if you can, open your heart to listen.

My name is Olallie Lovett; Luna Lovett was my young mother. Within her, the universe existed and I was born. These are the pages she lived. Here, she thrived; here, she survived, ultimately where her demise was cataloged.

This is dedicated to my true mother, one who saw past my silence. Let the perseverance be real, that you were always the angel, and I was the mere mortal.

CHAPTER 1

LUNA

14 years old.

It was a number everybody thought was in between child and adult. I tried to find myself at an age so young. My ears bled sound; the music rocked the powerful eardrums I wished to destroy.

14 was when I realized being different from my sisters, from my deaf parents, wasn’t a blessing.

That’s how I met Lennox Krause. He had elusive blond hair that tempted even me. Not that I was a prize, but sometimes, the unattainable becomes wanted in the worst kinds of ways.

I wasn’t shy about speaking up. In fact, I swore at a teacher the first time she threatened detention. I was a punk, to be classified. To my mother, I was a shake of the head. To my father, I was a short standard to look over. My 3 sisters were in college, and by that time, they didn’t care to discipline me. They avoided trying to handle me; both sets of grandparents were hearing.

Maybe they didn’t want to deal with the chaos I bathed myself in, the tantrums and loud melody. The older sisters thought I was bratty and immature. They signed to me horrible things, and I cussed back at them like slaps in their smooth Ivy League faces.

My grandmother was a rebel, and her husband was 20 years older. I saw what beautiful connection they shared, and I wanted it. Not to fall in love with an elderly man, but to bridge the gap to have a companion, a loyal friend.

Knox knew two things about me. I was a radioactive spitfire, and I couldn’t be tamed. It wasn’t the challenge of killing the flame I forever would burn inside me. It was a similar spirit where he ingested as much excitement in me as I found in the vacant space. He distracted my anger toward the world with the scent of marijuana.

My first sexual experience with a boy wasn’t with him, but he introduced me to the temptation of touching girls. I got bored early on in life and lost some sort of holy virginity. Though many would complain and point the finger he did this, and I was young; he pressured me. If you knew me, I was the one who pushed people into doing things.

Desperate, not even close. Curious, there wasn’t a time I wasn’t. So, I slept with a king, and together we conceived a princess. Knox was 18 on the verge of 19. Something we didn’t tell people, to this day, my parent's sour mouthed scowled, and my declaration had them rolling their eyes.

Look what Luna has done. First, my father signed it, flicking his hands, not meeting my direction. My sisters’ careers were the highlights in my mother’s and father’s achievements.

Eloise was a lawyer, Kaydree, the entrepreneur, and Alita, a professor. They were made of wisdom and substantial appeal. Their common bond was having the world on mute.

You could hear them exhale; I know they couldn’t acknowledge how it would affect me. Still, I heard it; when everything else was a shuffle of silverware, I remembered the deep sigh of disappointment—the name they took and transformed into a proper channel. There was me, a teenager who got knocked up because she spread her legs. Maybe it was the point of having another daughter that made it uncomfortable, or the fact that she would not bring them much praise, being able to listen in a community where silence was a community pleasure.

There we sat at a dining room table with glass that sang and sparkled.

I wonder if only after the baby was born, they would realize another daughter had entered the world. One that was gifted their dilemma. It seems they saw a daughter who had been given to the wrong person. In the adolescent years, I gave up Olallie to Leslie and Ruben Lovett.

I sometimes look down at my hands and remember the weight of my newborn infant, foreign in my palms, as I passed her from my personal space into theirs; I plea with her to forgive me.

Random. Sporadic.

Knox didn’t come to the hospital; at this point in his life, he’d already fathered 3 children before Olallie. Kalonie and Calhoun; twins a year before her day of birth. Leonie, four years before that, and a toddler with beautiful strands of innocence. Rebecca, her mother, may have been the only woman to ever be kind to me and smile at me with sincerity. She was right when all I saw around me was wicked, she let Knox run wild. Even if she loved him, she always was thankful he gave her their daughter.

It was tragic, her slipping from life so quickly without effort. Soon the twins’ mother tried to stand next to Knox, gaining a throne in the wake of a fallen queen. Rebecca removed herself from the world, and I think we were all in shock of not witnessing a shred of sadness on her face. She always smiled; her light shined like an unwavering lantern in the open wind.

How could I control that tragedy? This woman I had been hanging out with since middle school removed herself from this world. I wondered if that was how easily pain came and went. Finding myself with the older the crowd, the closer I felt to freedom.

CHAPTER 2

ASHER

In a cold sweat, panic jolts me awake. I blink slowly, trying to make the images and memories fade. A hand raises to cover my busted ear. I turn my head away, feeling the warmth of another’s blood dripping down my arms.

Where are the others? Shouting, shouting, and the numb circles of a headache. As I let the terror control me, I sit in the middle staring at the ceiling, not knowing if danger is outside the door or not.

Ash? Asher? Denver calls from the living room. But I don’t move, hold a breath that is trying to run away from my fear.

Give me a minute. He does, not even knocking, and I turn to my side and place my hand to the wall. Remembering that my silence is a gift after a rogue explosive misfired.

We got to head back to the base. I nod and get up. I get dressed and stare at myself, and I want to punch the image. Breaking the glass, shattering the hopes of women who think they can fix me, heal my broken spirit by riding my dick or sucking the cum out of it.

For good measure, I smack a massive grin on my face and flip myself the bird.

Well, what’s taking so long? Let’s go, asshole! I think you forgot to put on your eyeliner today, Denny. I smack his shoulders, and he flexes in his suit.

Still got those dildos shoved up your ass, Rainer? Don’t you know you need to take those out and sanitize? Damn, I still do not know how you do it. He locks the apartment door, and our neighbors, who are in lingerie, lowkey check us out.

We’re gay, no, thank you. Smacking his butt as I flip my shades down over my eyes.

Asher, are you ready for this meeting? The doctor has his professional voice on, and I try not to throw a fit.

We both know it was going to happen. Denny. I flex my fingers out and let the tatted ink on my hands stretch to full-lengths.

Be prepared, we will have to decide how to move forward.

You mean how I need to move forward. All you need to worry about is renting out the apartment. Got yourself set up somewhere in Texas, huh? Tell the old man I say hello. His jaw locks, not permitting another word.

Flat roads laid out before us; the numbing buzzing in my