Lewis, ignorant of Michelle’s presence inside the suite, unwittingly confirmed his association with Charlie. Both she and Charlie had been disturbed by her father’s menacing ramblings from the other side of the door. She remembered Charlie rubbing her stomach, and this belly was certainly absent. Michelle would not have believed there was any type of relationship between them had she not heard it for herself. Much to her dismay, she soon learned he had many partners, as it were; one of whom was Lisa, Michelle’s twin sister’s adopted mother. His untimely death left him unable to obviate, forcing Michelle to inescapably accept most of what she heard as gospel.
Now this woman made herself available for the reading of his last will and testament. She stood a few feet from Michelle, speaking with her mother, Sophie, like they were old friends. Michelle seethed. Here this woman was, staking a claim in the inheritance that her father left for his children, politely holding her round belly, professing that his DNA mingled with hers to form that bastard child.
Her very presence in Sophie’s home was nothing short of contemptuous. Not only had she shown complete and utter disrespect for Sophie by bedding her husband, but she sauntered into her home, adding insult to injury. Michelle left her fiancé, Armand, seated on the couch, allowing her mounting displeasure to force her legs into action, quickly moving her toward the source of her rising anger.
Her torso tightened as a recollection of the accusation pitted itself in her lower abdomen. Her father’s last words to Charlie replayed in her mind, insinuating the truth of Charlie’s claims. No one disappears with anything that belongs to me. As far as Michelle was concerned, the truth was irrelevant. Charlie had no right to be there.
“Get your ass out!” Michelle’s words cracked the air like the tip of a whip. Her mother may have been willing to play nice, but she was not. She could see Brianna, her twin sister, watching from the corner of her eye, appearing a bit amused by it all.
Sophie damn near broke her neck turning to see Michelle at her side. “Michelle Kaye!”
Though Michelle had not spoken to her mother much over the last month, she was not about to let this trick disrespect her mother in her presence. She ignored her mother’s beleaguered stare, keeping her eyes trained on Charlie, who had yet to move. Michelle’s body grew rigid, her fists hanging like hammers at her sides.
“Didn’t you hear what I said? Leave my mother’s home. Now!”
“I have a right to be here! This is your brother, and he—”
POP!
Before Charlie could complete her sentence, Michelle rammed her fist into her open mouth. Charlie’s thin lips swelled as blood filled her mouth. She stumbled back in shock, careful not to fall.
Sophie watched the scene unfold in horror, stepping in front of Michelle out of reflex. She draped her arm around Michelle’s body in a crescent moon. Entrapped by the moment, Sophie wedged herself between Michelle and Charlie, trying to clasp her hands together behind her back. She kept Michelle behind her as she continued to hurl profanities at Charlie.
“Bitch, why would you disrespect my mother like this? Get out!”
Michelle’s eyes were like lasers, sending the sensation of legions of spiders scurrying up her arms. Charlie’s fear-fraught eyes revealed that she realized the mistake she had made with her decision to come. Michelle watched as she frantically scanned the room for a friend, finding none. She had no intention of fighting Charlie, especially in her condition, but she would not allow her to stay.
Charlie regained her balance and walked toward Sophie. Permitting her open hand to connect with Charlie’s face again, Michelle, who stood a few inches over her mother, stretched her arm over her shoulder fairly easily.
SLAP!
“Damn whore! Let me go!” Michelle tried to wiggle free of her mother’s grasp. Her body, long since surrendering itself to the maddening rage, jerked impulsively. “Let me go!”
Sophie held onto Michelle as best she could. She didn’t want her daughter getting into any trouble over this slut. A winded Sophie stared wildly at the whore.
“Why won’t you leave? Are you trying to cause trouble?”
Hearing the distress in her mother’s voice, Brianna sprang to her feet to assist Sophie in corralling Michelle. She closed the distance between them in seconds, stepping in front of Sophie but facing Michelle. She attempted to deescalate the situation by communicating with her twin. Brianna lifted her hands like goal posts into the air, motioning for Michelle to relax. She maintained eye contact as Michelle momentarily stopped trying to get free.
“Chel, it will be okay. Calm down. We—”
At that precise moment, a sharp pang in Brianna’s back propelled her forward onto Sophie, causing the three to stumble away from Charlie. The impact was from the one and only punch Charlie would have the opportunity to throw. Brianna winced at the slight pang in her lower back, then turned and immediately swung in retaliation.
This time, it was Brianna’s fist that connected with Charlie’s nose, causing a fresh river of red to flow, but Brianna did not stop. She kept swinging until Armand grabbed her and dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the kitchen.
Fortunately for Charlie, Michelle had begun pulling her toward the door, away from Brianna’s jabs and out of harm’s way. The sharp prick from Michelle’s nails digging into her shoulders was mild compared to the bruises she would have had if one more of Brianna’s punches had gotten her.
Charlie did not have time to offer a word of thanks, though; Michelle opened the front door and dragged her sore, swollen body outside.
“Don’t ever bring your ass back to my mother’s home.”
Charlie gasped audibly as she looked up at Michelle and saw that same evil in her brown eyes that she had once seen in her father’s. Michelle went back into the house and slammed the door, locking it behind her.
* * *
Sophie was still standing in the same spot Michelle had left her when she came back into the living room. The lawyer who had read the will seemed to be frozen in place by the hoopla, too. Armand and Brianna were missing in action. Michelle started to go and find them when Sophie called out to her.
“Michelle . . . can we talk a minute?”
Michelle still did not want to talk to Sophie. She was her mother, and she loved her, but she had not figured out how to forgive her, though a day rarely passed without Sophie asking for it. Charlie needed to be checked. Although Michelle was upset with her mom, she was not about to let anyone disrespect her like that.
“Please, Number One.”
Michelle decided to oblige her and took a seat on the couch. Sophie sat down beside her and motioned for the lawyer to give them a minute. The gesture freed him from his trance, and he quietly left the room, signaling that he had to make a phone call.
“Michelle Kaye, what was that about?”
Michelle looked at her mom, incredulous over the question. Surely she was not referring to her kicking out her husband’s mistress after she had boldly waddled her ass into her home like she had an invite.
“Mom, you know what that was about.”
“Michelle, you assaulted a pregnant woman.”
“I hit a bitch. The fact that she was pregnant was not lost on me.”
“Michelle!” Sophie lowered her voice and spoke sternly, like the change would usher in some understanding Michelle had yet to realize, in an effort to drive home some important point. “That is not the issue. Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Michelle shot Sophie a questioning glance.
Sophie shook her head in frustration. “She has grounds to press charges against you. Do you get that?” She paused to allow her words to register. “She could have you locked up over this.”
Michelle stared blankly. It was not that she didn’t understand; she simply didn’t care. Let her try. I have a few tricks of my own.
Chapter 2
“Brianna, you need to calm down. What were you thinking, hitting that woman?” Armand sat on a stool at th
e kitchen island, watching Brianna pace back and forth across the black-and-white tiled floor.
Brianna rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. “What are you talking about? Your fiancée started it, not me!”
Armand shook his head. Brianna’s head was as hard as limestone. “I know that, but you attacked that woman.”
“After she hit me! It was self-defense.”
“Brianna—”
Brianna stopped pacing and looked at Armand. “Why are you even in here talking to me? Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with your future wife?”
Armand’s body stiffened a bit. He rubbed his hands over his face to calm himself. “Look, I am just trying to look out for you.”
“Well, don’t. I don’t need you.” Brianna spoke the words, but she knew she was lying. She wanted Armand to care. Needed him to care. Since the kidnapping, being with him was the only thing that gave her peace. But each time he left her . . . she was reminded that he did not belong to her. He never would.
“You are living too reckless, Brianna. Taking unnecessary risks.”
Brianna knew he was referring to Javan, the monster who had kidnapped her a month before. Armand had rescued her from that nightmare—some real cowboy, guns-blazing type stuff. He had stormed in to where she was being kept, grabbed her, and scooped her off to safety, but when he returned to the house to finish the job, Javan was nowhere to be found.
He had made her his personal responsibility. He even moved her into the new house that he and Michelle had recently purchased. He spent time with her every single night, if only for a few minutes. He tended to her even more than Michelle did.
Brianna could not lie; she was terrified. Everything scared her. She had to fight to function. This was not her fault. The numbness she resided in was the result of her being afraid of absolutely everything. She found it was the most effective means by which she could attain some semblance of a life. Brianna knew it was not the healthiest way to live, but it was the only way she could for now.
“Javan is not coming back, Armand. You kicked his ass, remember?”
Armand’s thick eyebrows furrowed, and she knew her sarcastic indifference had not gone unnoticed. Sarcasm fared better than the truth.
“Brianna, I never found him. He’s still a problem until I do. It is better to have a definite no than a probable yes, especially in this situation.”
“Yes, yes . . . I know. But I’m not worried. As long as you are around to protect me, I have nothing to worry about, right?”
Armand stared at Brianna sincerely. He ran his hands through his curly hair and took a deep breath. “That’s right. I’ll be around to take care of you.”
There was a real love smoldering for her within him, and it was plainly visible to her. As long as she needed him, he would be there, pure and simple. Michelle was his world, his life partner, but Brianna knew her stock increased a little each day.
Chapter 3
Shit. The look on Michelle’s face foreshadowed the storm headed in his direction.
Ignoring Brianna, Michelle walked past her, stopping just inches away from him. “Where were you, Armand?”
Squinting his eyes and biting his bottom lip, Armand cut his eyes at Michelle. He glanced at her for a mere moment before picking a spot beyond the island, the breakfast nook, and through the French doors, to a spot in the backyard to focus on.
“Clearly, I was in here, Michelle.”
“That is obvious . . . isn’t it?” Michelle cocked her head to the side and lowered her face to his, intentionally interrupting his line of sight. “Why are you in here?”
Armand threw a subtle look in Brianna’s direction, catching the smile plastered across her face. There was nothing amusing about this situation to him. Using the island’s counter to force himself upright, Armand staggered back until he felt the hard edge of the large steel country-style sink cutting into the small of his back. Folding his arms across his chest, Armand tried to rest against it comfortably.
“Michelle, can we not do this right now?”
Michelle did not move an inch. She stood so still he wasn’t sure she had even taken a breath. She didn’t bother to look in her sister’s direction, but it was painfully obvious who she referred to with her next request.
“Give us a minute, please.”
Good luck, Brianna mouthed to Armand before vacating the kitchen.
Satisfied that they had the space to themselves, Michelle picked up their conversation.
“Why are you in here, Armand?”
Armand sighed deeply, already seeing where this banter was going. He didn’t want to answer, but his silence would only prolong his torment.
“I grabbed Brianna and brought her in here, Michelle, but you knew that.”
“So, you chose to help her again?”
“Michelle . . .”
“You chose her over me . . . again?”
“Don’t do this shit right now. I am begging you. She was fighting a pregnant woman, Michelle. Do you know how much trouble she could get into if that woman presses charges?”
“Yes! Probably about as much as I could get into since I hit the bitch first. Or were your eyes too fixated on my sister to notice?”
Armand dropped his arms to his sides and walked toward Michelle, his eyes wide with disbelief. His voice ballooned into a loud whisper as he struggled to keep his voice at a respectable volume in her mother’s home.
“You are bugging the fuck out! What is wrong with you?”
“You didn’t come to my rescue. Didn’t rush in to protect me.”
“Stop with the theatrics. This is fucking stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“Stop talking like I left you in a dark alley or something. I left you, temporarily, with your mom. Brianna didn’t have anyone. She doesn’t have anyone! I am just trying to look out for her.”
“She’s a grown damn woman. You are supposed to have my back, Armand! Mine!”
Armand felt his patience thinning. Michelle was being completely unreasonable. “You should be glad that your man cares about your family, your sister.”
“Don’t do that, Armand. That isn’t what this is about. Of course I’m glad you care, but not at my expense! You proposed to me, Armand, but you act like you’ve got the wrong twin.”
Armand threw his hands into the air in frustration. “I cannot believe you went there. That is straight bullshit, and you know it, Michelle. You are the only woman I have ever loved, besides my mom. You’re jealous over nothing.”
As she folded her arms across her chest, Michelle’s face conveyed her disbelief. “I know what I see, Armand.”
“What you think you see, you mean? I know the woman I fell in love with over two years ago, and she is not this jealous little girl standing in front of me now.”
“She is not the only one that needs you, Armand.”
“So, I’m not here for you? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, you are not, evidenced by your behavior today.”
“You are making me fucking crazy. Seriously.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Shaking his head in bewilderment, Armand decided to end this battle. “Whatever, Michelle. I’m going to check on your mother, if that’s okay with you?”
Accepting her silence as consent, Armand left the kitchen to find Sophie. Michelle was losing her mind, but her words still cut him. He didn’t want her thinking of him that way. He loved her, no matter what. He loved her, and that should not be something she was still questioning.
Chapter 4
The sea of blood surrounding his wife sent Frank crashing to his knees, crying out to no one in particular. Lisa’s body lay still, covered in her life’s liquid after collapsing on the floor just below the bar. There was so much crimson that Frank could not tell where the self-inflicted injury had occurred. He crawled to his wife’s side, visually checking for any signs of life. Though his eyes failed to locate any, his heart refused to con
cede to her departure. Reaching for the cordless phone on the bar’s surface, the catalyst for this tragic event, with shaky hands, he called for help.
“Please state ya emergency.”
“Please, someone help me.” His words, echoing his distress, were barely audible as tears continued to fall from his eyes. “My wife. She needs help. And I can’t . . . I can’t help her.”
“Sir, what’s ya name?”
“Frank.”
“Thank ya, Frank. Help is on the way. I need ya to answer a few questions.”
“My wife. Please.”
“We are sending help to ya wife. What is ya wife’s name, sir?”
“Lisa.” Frank continued sobbing, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Are ya calling from Le Petit Hotel, sir?”
Frank nodded, thinking he’d answered the question.
“Sir? Is that correct?”
The repetition of the question jolted him out of his haze. “Yes.”
“Thank ya, Frank. Can ya tell me what happened to Lisa?”
Frank began heaving heavily. His body shook with grief.
“Frank, Frank . . . stay wit’ me, sir. I need ya to stay calm. Help is coming. I need ya to tell me what happened.”
“That bitch! She did it!” A yell stretching from the deep recesses of his soul suddenly came roaring out as he realized Charlie was to blame. His deep, baritone voice raggedly poured through the walls of Lisa’s suite and down the hallway of the chic hotel.
The operator strained to hear his words through his incessant cries. “Sir, I am sorry. Could ya repeat that?”
“She killed my wife!” Frank continued to cry into the phone.
“Who, sir? Who killed ya wife?”
Frank, teetering on the edge of sanity, could scarcely speak. “Charlie.”
“Charlie killed ya wife, sir? Am I hearing that correctly? Is this Charlie in the room, sir?”
The emergency operator dispatched the ambulance and the police.
“Can you describe Charlie, sir? Did ya see her harm ya wife?”
“No, but . . . but she did it. It’s her fault.”
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