Reign on Me

by Zoe Devereaux

  The phone rang once…twice…three times…His hold tightened on the cell phone with each ring, and the cold sweat swathed his palms.

  On the ninth ring, the caller picked up on the other end. “Parker Clayton Associates,” the receptionist said politely on the other end. “This is Miranda speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Christopher Alexander,” he muttered uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “It’s important that I speak with Mr. Clayton.”

  The receptionist’s tone changed quickly, and he heard the rustling papers in the background. A definite urgency masked her tone. “Certainly, Mr. Alexander. We’ve been awaiting your call. I’ll connect you with Mr. Clayton immediately.”

  He was put on hold for barely a minute before the attorney answered.

  “Christopher, it’s been quite a long while since we’ve spoken. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing important to tell.” Looking across the room, he paused in thought briefly. But, there was no running away now, he realized. “You called and left a message a few days ago. Why? Has something happened?”

  “Yes,” the attorney sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, it’s not a good thing, and we shouldn’t discuss such important private matters over the phone. We need to talk in person. My schedule is clear for the remainder of the afternoon. Are you available?”

  “It just depends.” As if he really had something else to do, but that was beside the point. He frowned against the phone. “What time?”

  “How about a half-hour from now?”

  Was he really prepared to gash open the scars of yesterday in such a short period of time? Rather than voicing that troubling thought, he muttered with a pinched frown. “I can make that. Where?”

  “Romano’s Bistro Café. I’ll be waiting in the CDR section. We can talk there.”

  Chapter 11

  Exactly thirty minutes later, he strode into the café. The large café was packed, and that was no surprise, considering the five-star establishment’s quality service and great food.

  Carefully, he made his way across the space, easily maneuvering past the crowded tables and bustling waitresses. He cut a sharp right before heading in the direction of the CDR section. A small sampling of patrons sat on the cushioned sofas and milled about, speaking in low talk or whispers.

  Finally, several feet away, he spied the fifty-something family attorney, Parker Clayton, lounging casually in the gray upholstered chair. The silver-wire rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. Brows pinched in thought, perusing the thick novel with deep interest, he’d hardly even noticed or heard his approach. His tanned skin was due to endless hours spent in the sun-bed. It was in stark contrast against the starch white business shirt that dressed the black suit pants. A hint of gray tinged the edges of his neatly trimmed black hair, and his face was clean shaven.

  In some case, there was some family resemblance, he noted with reluctance, and stiffened as the attorney looked up. But, like everyone else in his estranged family, his uncle was almost a stranger.

  Parker snapped the novel closed as he stood. A smile crinkled the corners of his green eyes, but a profound seriousness marked them as well. Moving from behind the small oval coffee table, he met him halfway. As he did, he extended his hand in greeting. “Christopher, I regret that it’s been so long since we’ve met. Things have been going well for you, I hope.”

  With a curt nod, he returned his handshake. “I can’t say that I have any reason to complain.” Tensing, he settled in the vacant chair that faced the other one across the coffee table. Falling silent, he watched as Parker returned to his seat before passing him a frown. Then, as they made eye contact, he went straight to the point of conversation. “Now, that you’ve dragged me halfway across town. Why don’t you tell me what’s so important that we couldn’t talk about it over the phone?”

  “As I mentioned before, it’s some rather troubling and unfortunate news that I’m about to share with you,” Parker sighed heavily, and the worry shone in his green eyes. “There’s really no easy way to explain the situation.”

  At the words, the unwanted fear and pain drummed against his chest, the very things that he didn’t care to acknowledge but was secretly forced to. “Then just fucking say it,” he cut in abruptly, gripping the chair arms with hard-knuckled fists. “I don’t have energy, time, or patience for games or riddled words.”

  Parker gave a sad smile. “You haven’t changed a bit, I see---always eager to get straight to the point. There’s no softening the edges with you at all. Very well, then,” he sighed again, holding his gaze, and it was obvious that he was gearing for his gut reaction. “Josephine is dying. Stage 3 lymphoma. It’s advancing at a rapid rate that’s alarming. The specialists have given her nine months at the most, and at this point, they’re only concerned with easing her pain.”

  Though his face was steely and devoid of emotions, his heart dropped and met the floor. All the pent-up loneliness, anger, resentment, and sadness conjoined in a single unit at the emotional impact. While he thought himself prepared for this very moment, he hardly was.

  Before he was even born, he’d lost his father.

  All his life, he’d felt that very void, and there’d been nothing more depressing or defeating than realizing that he’d never know him. Amidst that grief, however, he’d learned that he still belonged to someone.

  Josephine…

  Suddenly, it hurt to even think, he mulled, and the pain constricted in his chest.

  His mother---the very person that he’d longed for his entire life---was being ripped away again in the cruelest way possible.

  But, like before, there wasn’t a damn thing that he could do about it. Fighting to keep his expression impassive, he asked quietly, “Will she be staying at the hospice?”

  “No. Her only adamant wish was spending her last moments at home with her family.” Again, the sadness on his face matched his inner turmoil. “Believe me. No one dared to argue with her. My sister has always had a feisty nature and temper. None of us felt fit to challenge it.”

  Certainly, that was true.

  In their fragile relationship, he’d learned that much about her. Yet, why hadn’t that same feistiness been strong enough for her to fight for him all those years ago?

  His bitterness returned in a flash, and it was easier to deal with than the profound devastation that filled him now.

  Finally, his thoughts fell on track with his uncle’s words again.

  “Being with family and friends is the best medicine that she could get right now,” Parker retorted and met his gaze head-on. “She was hoping---well we all were hoping---that you’d considered spending more time with her. Of course, this request isn’t an easy one. But, there’s been enough tragedy in this family to last a lifetime. It’s time for the healing to begin. By closing the door on the past, we all can do just that.”

  A deafening silence followed.

  Heal?

  Spend time with her…them?

  After all of these years, they finally wanted to let him be a part of their inner circle? That was a huge surprise since he’d been their dirty little secret to the entire world for most of his life.

  Hell, he literally was sin.

  A lingering product of an illicit and scandalous affair between two individuals from different worlds---blue blood and poor white trash…

  The bastard son of his mother Josephine Clayton and Oliver Johansson, a man that her southern blueblood clan had shunned years ago…

  Josephine Clayton was a beautiful southern belle from Richmond, Georgia and cherished daughter of Thomas Clayton, a prominent hotel magnate known for his ruthlessness and sharp business sense. Naturally, his grandfather had high hopes for his daughter. But, as always, his carefully planned course for her had been altered greatly.

  At the ripe age of sixteen, Josephine had fallen headfast in love with Oliver Johansson, a streetwise kid from King’s Drive on the east side of Richmond. They’d met by chance at a po
pular but secret teen hangout one hot summer, and their innocent flirtations had begun there. Then, it’d transcended past that. Secretly, they’d begun meeting and spending quality time together.

  They’d fallen in love.

  Their relationship had only flourished further once Oliver had taken summer employment at one of her father’s local hotels. But, their union had been cut short once her father had caught them red-handed having sex in one of the honeymoon suites.

  To say that Thomas Clayton had been livid was an understatement, and he’d made his anger known in more ways than one.

  His mother and father had been forced apart.

  According to story, they’d been equally devastated. Then, fate had intervened and set them on separate paths.

  Josephine had eventually married Randal Wilkes, a well-respected and prominent banker from a wealthy family. Oliver went off to the military and joined the marines.

  Initially, Josephine fell easily into the lifestyle as a young banker’s wife. Her husband, Randal, was exactly the kind of man that her father had always envisioned her with. Their marriage had been a good one to a certain extent, and they’d started a family. After five years of marriage, she and Randal welcomed their first child. Things were perfectly fine until fate intervened again and forced Oliver back to Richmond as a wounded war hero.

  Oliver had taken employment as a security analyst at a local business, and somehow, by chance, he’d crossed paths with Josephine again. Like most, they’d fought against their dangerous attraction. But, fighting the lure of temptation is a difficult thing. Soon, they’d fallen back on their mutual habit of yesteryears and had begun meeting secretly again. Their passionate love affair had spiraled out of control, and they’d been discovered by her father like before. Afterwards, more than one horrible event had transpired and dangerous choices had to be made. His father had died young, and that meant he’d lost any and all opportunity to know him.

  Thirty-one years later, however, he was the living memory of them, he mulled, finally forcing his mind back to the present.

  “…and with all hope, you’ll consider visiting soon,” Parker trailed on and was obviously oblivious to his earlier mental ramblings. “It’d mean so much to your mother---”

  “She’s not my mother,” he said abruptly, feeling the resentment swell inside of him again, and suddenly, he felt so cold. “Never refer to her as such.”

  The color drained from his uncle’s face. “Regardless of past circumstances, she is your mother. Surely, the current situation is cause enough for you to disregard your past anger and think about someone other than yourself.”

  He looked at him in disbelief.

  Past anger?

  No, it was hardly a dead issue.

  In the dark hours of the night, when he was alone, the nightmares of his violent childhood still plagued him. The lingering physical and mental scars were proof of his unfortunate upbringing.

  While his so-called “mother” was strong to a certain extent, she hadn’t been when it came time to stand up against her aristocratic domineering father and a divisive society.

  No, she’d done something else.

  Something wickedly horrible---

  Even now, years later, he was paying for her dark sins in more ways than one.

  “My anger is hardly a point of conversation, and actually, it’s never been,” he said bitterly, and tasted the nasty bile in his own throat. “So, why in the hell is it so significant now, dear uncle?”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re really playing every beat of your adaptive unscrupulous nature, aren’t you?”

  “I suppose I am what I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t expect me to apologize for it.”

  “How can you be so cold?” Parker demanded angrily and jabbed a finger in his direction. Now, his outburst was causing some curious looks in their direction. “I tell you that your mother is on her deathbed, and this is all that you can muster? Being a whore has obviously numbed you to any and all feeling!”

  “We both know that’s not the truth,” he said icily, leaning forward in the chair, and suddenly it felt like his face would break from the pressure. In fact, his entire body was stiffened like granite. “No, counselor, we have our sweet Josephine to blame for my stunning lack of character. Unfortunately, my freakish nature is also due to my dark and sadistic childhood---the very one that you all casually dismiss.”

  “You’re right,” Parker admitted and his face colored a bright red. Even he couldn’t mask the look of shame. “Believe me, I’m not making light of the tragedies that transpired during your childhood---”

  “Actually, you don’t even have the fucking right to speak of them.” The crippling anger unfurled within him like a cracking whip as he stood. “All of you---you shun me my entire life, and then think that you have the right to demand something of me. Well, fuck you.” Suddenly, the suffocating feeling in his chest was unbearable, and he nearly capsized the small oval table as he turned. “We’re done here.”

  Parker rose to his feet. “No, we’re not finished. While we’re on the subject, it’s high time that you accept responsibility for your part in this.” A new desperation filled his tone. “The times that we’ve reached out to you, you’re the one who pushed us away---”

  “What in the hell did you just say?” he muttered as he whirled around, and his words were an angry growl. “And please don’t say anything to me about responsibility. I don’t owe any of you a damn thing.”

  “Don’t turn your back on us. Your mother needs you---we all need you…we can’t suffer through this alone and neither can you.” Finally, his uncle’s carefully composed features cracked. “Damn it, Chris. You’re a part of us---we’re family---”

  “Family?” A sheer look of disbelief crossed his face at the use of the word. This time, it was him that pointed an angry finger. “That’s not fucking us! A real family doesn’t turn their back on someone just because they’re different. They don’t pretend that you’re worse than the scum of the earth.” He forced himself to maintain eye contact, but still, the naked hurt nearly blinded him. “We’ll never be family.”

  With those words, he walked away.

  “We’ll never give up on you, son,” his uncle called out to his retreating form. “Even if it takes a lifetime, we’ll right every wrong that we’ve done to you. That’s a promise that we’re going to live to.”

  Several seconds later, even when he was far from his uncle, he was still haunted. One thing was for certain. There was no escaping the truth.

  “Well, all the life has gone out of you, and not to mention the fact that I just spent nearly $10 just to let you go flat,” she murmured with a frown, eyeing the cold mug of cappuccino, and then pushed it aside. Then, picking up her cell phone, she read over the visitor’s information on the website. “The aquarium may be a good idea, but I’m sure that it’s incredibly crowded at this hour of the day.” She snapped her fingers amidst her solo conversation. “I know! How could I forget the zoo, especially since they have an exhibit with exotic animals?” She bit her lip in concentration as she looked at no certain point across the café. “But, that’s five blocks away and too far of a walk from here---”

  Her words ended abruptly as Christopher came into her field of view. He was several feet away across the crowded café, and his attention was geared straight ahead. Yet, there was no dismissing the fact that he was extremely agitated. His features were tensed, and it was apparent that he was enmeshed within an emotional struggle.

  Just what’d happened?

  She thought to call out to him, but held her tongue. Sure, they were sex partners for the week. But, did that really give her the right to intrude upon his private life, she mulled, sitting higher in the seat and watched as he strode towards the café’s exit door.

  But, just before he reached it, a crowd amassed and blocked his path. With the utmost politeness, he waited as the patrons milled about and headed to make payment for their meals.

 
She bit her lip.

  Well, he was upset, and she was a good listener.

  And, she mulled triumphantly, she was a minister’s daughter, and that meant that she came from a natural school of counselors.

  But, more than that, he’d been gone in a few seconds, and she wanted to help him.

  It was the only encouragement she needed.

  After hastily tossing a fast tip on the table, she sprung from behind the bench before scurrying towards the exit. By the time she reached the exit area, she was nearly out of breath. But, at least now, he was within earshot.

  “Christopher.”

  Once she spoke, he stilled immediately before turning around to face her. In a split second, she saw his discord before he masked it. As usual, he was dressed handsomely. A white polo shirt stretched along his broad chest and fit perfectly with the gray trousers. The dark sunglasses rested on his head amidst his natural curls, and they lent him an added air of sophistication.

  Suddenly, she felt shabby in the thin-strapped floral sundress and flats. Not to mention the hastily put-up bun at her nape and her freshly scrubbed face.

  But, for once, things weren’t about her, she quickly reminded herself, stopping before him.

  While he attempted a smile, it didn’t quite resonate. “Hayven. How are you?”

  Whatever it was that was bothering him, it was pretty heavy. For when had he ever avoided looking at her?

  “I’m fine.” Then, she innocently placed a hand on his arm, and the simple gesture finally made him look at her. Now, a torrent of raw emotions swam in his hazel green orbs. “But, you, it seems not so much. You seem upset. Is something wrong?”

  “The entire fucking universe is wrong,” he said bitterly, but, at least his ire seemed to be cooling. Sighing hard, he ran his gaze over her face. “But, there’s not a damned thing that we can do about it, is there?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” she agreed, and her brows pinched together in careful thought. “Yet, we have active choices in how we approach and react to situations, no matter how bad they are.” Her voice softened further. “We can talk. That is, if you want to.”