by Skye Stone
Invisible
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This book is work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.
©2020 Skye Stone
Invisible
Hikkomori
Amara
Jasmine Hill 4 years ago
Bianca Anderson
Amara
Amara
Now-The Assassin
Governor Scott Anderson
Jaxon Price
Dante DeSilva
Liam O’Sullivan
Jaxon
Amara
Jaxon
Bianca
Liam
Jaxon
Amara
Dante
Amara
Barbara Anderson
Scott Anderson
Liam
Dante
Amara
Jaxon
Jaxon
Amara
Dante
Amara
Dante
Books By Skye Stone
Hikkomori
The Japanese use the word Hikkomori to describe a condition where a person withdraws from the world. This withdrawal from daily life might have been gradual or quick, but one day this person stopped wanting to go outside.
Soon, they disappeared from daily life.
For those Hikkomori who have family, they are still seen by someone. For those Hikkomori without family, they soon become invisible because who is to know that they’ve withdrawn from the world?
Amara
I turned on the t.v. a couple of hours ago. My window was open and a light breeze came in cooling me down.
Blowing down, I watch my coffee moved as I tried to cool it down. Today was Inauguration Day for the great state of California. And, I like millions of other people, was watching the festivities.
Normally, I wouldn’t be interested.
This time I had a personal take in what was going on and it felt strange to see the man that I’d never met before but was connected with on a personal level that was strange to consider.
My father was the newly elected Governor of California, Scott Anderson. He was called the heartthrob of politics. He had those movie star California good looks that Californians loved.
Gorgeous white teeth, muscles, and healthy dirty blond hair. He’d just turned 50 the week before and had been selected as People’s Sexiest Man Alive.
His wife Barbara “Jewell” Anderson, pop singer, was standing next to him looking perfect. Gorgeous blond hair styled without a hair out of place.
She looked like she was in her twenties instead of almost 50 as well. And they had two adult children: Bianca 25 and Taylor 23.
I was 24. Awkward.
My mom and Governor Anderson had an affair and I was the result. And, from the beginning of my birth I was used to being invisible.
My only memory of Governor Anderson, I didn’t think of him as my dad, was a hazy one. I was four years old and he’d stopped by to talk to my mom. He’d picked me up and twirled me around while kissing my cheek and handed me a teddy bear that soon became my favorite thing in the world.
I carried it around so much that its eye fell out and my mom had to replace it and she had to reattach his arm during an “operation” to save his life.
My mom was crying silent tears as they spoke quality, glistening against her brown skin. I was too young to understand that moment for what it was. It was goodbye.
Governor Anderson was known for being socially moderate and fiscally conservative.
His rallies were filled with people screaming his name and they couldn’t get enough of him.
Finally, I decided to shut my laptop and stop watching the festivities. Why was I even doing this to myself? It would change anything.
It wouldn’t change that my mother was dead, I was alone, and that I would never have him in my life.
I’d made my peace with that a long time ago. Because there’s nothing worse than being the half-black illegitimate daughter of a major political figure who wanted nothing to do with you.
Amara 4 Years Earlier
My mother’s condition was rapidly deteriorating. She’d been diagnosed too late with stomach cancer and there was very little we could do about the situation.
I was 18 years old when she was first diagnosed. Fortunately, I’d decided to attend a local college and was able to help her with her many appointments, picking up medicine and all of the things that come with managing cancer.
It was always just she and I against the world and soon it would just be me. I tried not to imagine what that would look like.
I fought the urge to ask her about who my dad was and what he did. I just knew that he was white, which accounted for why I was so fair. If you were to ask, people said that I had a complexion similar to the new American Duchess.
When I was little I was teased about my looks, my color, my mom, and how much money we had.
All of the petty concerns that I’d had from before seemed so trivial now as I looked at my mom lying on the bed. Her skin was ashen from the sickness and I hated to see how frail she looked.
“Sweetheart, we need to talk because I’m going to be leaving you soon.” My heart clinched with fear as she said those words, but the truth was the truth, I was going to lose her soon.
“Mom, just rest.”
“This can’t wait. It’s time to talk about your dad.”
“I don’t have a dad, I just have you.”
“You have a dad and one day you may need him when I’m gone. I took away that choice when you were younger, he and I both did and it was the wrong thing for you.”
What do you say to something like that? It was the truth.
“Your father and I had an affair. I’m sorry to say that it’s like the cliché story that you read about out there. I was his secretary and I never in a million years thought that a man like him would be interested in someone like me. And, he was married. I never thought I would be a home wrecker. But, I was.”
“Did you love him?” Because at least that would make this whole situation a bit better.
“Yes, I did.”
“Did he love you?”
“Yes, he did, but he also loved his wife and we were wrong to do what we did.”
“Did you tell him when you found out you were pregnant?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because there was no moving forward with him. He was married and had another family.”
What could I say? Especially to a woman who was dying. There was no point in being angry with her. She was an incredible mom despite everything. With a sigh, I let it go.
“None of this matters mom.”
“Yes, it does. I feel like I’ve denied you your family. In my room I’ve put together a memory box with everything that you need to know.”
“What’s his name mom?”
Looking at me with tears in her eyes, she looked uncomfortable.
“His name is Scott Anderson.”
Holy Shit.
If it was the Scott Anderson that I was thinking of he was the oldest son of billionaire Charles “Hank” Anderson, a self-made man who had built up his empire when he lost everything in his forties and had to reinvent himself in order to feed his wife and kids.
My mom was looking at me with an amused smile.
“Yes, that Scott A
nderson. Now do you see why I decided to hide my pregnancy? There was no way that family was going to acknowledge you.” My mom’s voice was weak as she looked at me with something akin to pity.
It hurt to hear the truth, but she was right. There went the hope that I had to be acknowledged by my father. I knew how this story went: Illegitimate half-black daughter from a hick town and no money showing up looking for her long-lost daddy.
He had legitimate kids who would inherit everything. I just wanted a dad and that was never going to happen.
I didn’t want to waste my last moments with her talking about what could have been. It didn’t matter anymore. All I could do was focus on now.
That night, I found the box that she told me about. It was a wooden with intricate fold filigree decorating the outside of the box. Opening the box with shaky hands, I was entranced by what I found inside.
There were photos of my mom and her parents before they died. There were even pictures of her and Scott during the time that they were together. The pictures didn’t lie, they had been in love.
I just wondered what happened and why she decided not to tell him about me?
Jasmine Hill 4 years ago
I only told Amara part of the truth. I remembered the day that I discovered I was pregnant. It was a chilly and rainy, unusual for Los Angeles and everyone was complaining about the cold.
That day I was wearing a bright yellow sweater that I’d wrapped around me with a fanciful notion that I was wrapping sunshine around me. Waving my pregnancy test around I continued to dance in the bathroom as I waited to see what the results would be.
But, there was no doubt in my mind that I was pregnant and that my life was about to change in ways that I’d never even considered.
A knock on the door distracted me from my thoughts and I made my way to the front door and looked outside.
The Universe just opened up a can of cosmic whoop ass for me and I deserved everything that was coming because I was sleeping with a married man.
His wife Barbara “Jewell” Anderson was standing outside.
Opening the door, I said nothing. What was there to say?
My lover’s wife walked into my home quietly and I waited to experience her wrath. My mama had always talked about karma being a bitch. I never thought she meant it literally.
Pulling out one of the chairs around the kitchen table, she sat down while arranging her things in front of her and taking a deep breath, like she was grounding herself.
“Would you like something to drink? I noticed that you aren’t driving.” Her limo was parked in front of my place like a giant beacon and her bodyguard stood next to the door watching everything.
“Do you have gin?”
Nodding my head, I confirmed that I did.
“If you have the ingredients for a dirty Martini I would love one.”
I mixed it quickly the irony not lost on me that she was having me make her husband’s favorite drink.
Taking a slow sip, she took me in with cobalt blue eyes perfectly framed with long eyelashes.
“This is Scott’s favorite drink but I imagine that you already know that. I introduced him to it during our honeymoon in Maui. Our marriage was arranged, a business deal, as is normal for people in our circle. But, I wanted more. I wanted love too. And, Scott was easy to love from the beginning. So, imagine how I felt when I discovered that he was fucking someone else who wasn’t me?”
Again, I stayed silent.
“You’re beautiful you know. The complete opposite of the type of girl he’s dated before and I’m not saying that because you’re black. He loves all kinds of women. But, you’re wild in a way that his typical woman is not. With your long braids, nose ring, and scented oil on your wrists. You’re untamed and wild and free and represent the opposite of what I am. Freedom. You’re probably working this boring 9-5 job to make your parents happy or to pay off a bill before pursuing your real passion. What is it?”
“Art and dance. But, mainly art.” It unnerved me how easily she read me and took me apart.
“Scott probably believes that he loves you too, it’s possible to love more than one person at a time. But, sometimes the other person has to let them go so that they can be the person that they’re supposed to be.”
“Who is it that he’s trying to be?”
“Scott’s father is a king maker and Scott will one day be a king. But, he won’t become a king fucking some woman on the side. You won’t ever be at his side you’ll always be hidden, an embarrassment. And, now I’m in your home and I’m here to ask you to do the one thing that he won’t be willing to do. I’m asking you to let him go, to leave and never come back.”
The silence between us stretched for minutes as I said nothing and thought about what she said.
“I will give you $500,000 to leave and never come back. He doesn’t know about some of my offshore accounts. That’s a lot of money for an artist. I’ll give you the money by this Friday-you just have to be gone by Monday. Say your goodbyes, don’t let him know what you’re planning to do and disappear.”
Standing up, I made my way to the bathroom and shut the door. I splashed cold water on my face and looked at the pregnancy test.
Pregnant.
My heart broke for what I was about to do, but what choice did I have? I’d just found out that I was pregnant with a married man’s child and his wife was offering me the financial lifeline I needed to take care of you and pay for your college. The truth was that he was never going to leave her for me…even if he loved me.
Walking back into the room, I slowly sat down. Pretending to sip on my gin and tonic I swirled the deal around my brain slowly. If he ever found out he would hate me.
I hated me for considering it. Let them think that I’m a gold digger. If there was one think I knew how to do, it was to survive.
My parents had died in a car accident when I was 16 and I went into foster care. I was too old and hurting too much for families to deal with. Once I aged out I was on my own. Maybe that was why I didn’t fight hard enough against the attraction that I had for Scott…even though it was wrong.
“I need a contract.” There was no way that I was going to take her at her word. I wanted it in writing that I was going to get my mom.
Barbara looked surprised and pulled out a card. “Here’s my private number. Create a new email address and text it to that number. My lawyer will be in touch with you.”
In a surprising move, she knocked back the rest of her drink and walked out the door followed by her bodyguard.
My body was shaking as I fought off tears not wanting her to see how my heart was breaking. Running to the door I locked it before sinking down and sobbing.
The happiest day of my life was also the saddest day of my life. I lost track of how long I laid there crying, waking up the next day in the same position cold and stiff.
Getting up slowly, I made my way to my room. Thankfully, this was a pre-furnished home. I had very little to pack up and all I could hope for was that Scott would stay out of town until Monday like he’d said.
For the next couple of days I packed and purged while waiting for the contract. She was true to her word and I sent it back. Finally, it was time for Barbara to wire me the money.
Scott called me the night before and it was so hard pretending that everything was ok when it wasn’t. He could tell that something was wrong.
“Babe, what’s going on, you don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine, I can’t wait to see you next week.”
The lies slid off my tongue so easily. Finally, he stopped questioning me and we eased back into our comfortable banter until the end of the call.
“I love you Scott.” I had to make sure that he heard those words.
“I love you too. See you soon.”
For the next hour I deleted all of my social media feeds, email addresses and changed my phone number. Even with all of his money, it would be hard for him to find me, I was good at
hiding. I’d done it before.
The next morning I got in my car and drove away from Los Angeles heading north until I pulled into Playa De Aire, a small town near the Redwood forest.
There was no way he would find me here. And, he didn’t. Not for four years.
Bianca Anderson
Dad, for all extents and purposes was a bit of a dick to every one who wasn’t family. When you’re the heir to billions, political royalty, and possessed movie star good looks, it’s hard not to be a douche.
But recently he’d been acting strangely. My parents had been fighting for the past couple of months. These fights were different from their usual fights about politics and power.
