Black Rose: A dark romance thriller (Obsession Inc. Book 3)

by Dori Lavelle

  “Are you okay?” Curtis asks when we’re alone again. His already deep voice is even deeper. I can see he’s also trying to contain the shock of what he heard. He doesn’t reach out to touch or comfort me. I guess he doesn’t know how to react in this situation. Maybe I should have agreed to talk to the doctor alone.

  “I’m not really sure.” I bite down on my lip. “But I think I want to keep it—the baby.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Curtis asks cautiously.

  “I think I am.” A trembling smile creeps up on my face. “I think I have to.” This baby survived trauma and it’s still here, refusing to leave me. Right now, I’m not even thinking of it as the child of a murderer, just my baby. My innocent, miracle baby. I won’t be alone after all. “I hated Dax with everything in me. But the baby is innocent.”

  Curtis blows out a breath and places his hand on my back. “You are one of the bravest women I have ever met.”

  “I’m not being brave. I’m only doing what my heart is telling me to.” It will be a challenge to raise my child without remembering the horrors of the past, but I’ll do it.

  “Whatever you need, I’ll be here. I’ll support you in every way I can.”

  “As a friend.” I need to say it. “Only as a friend, Curtis.”

  In this moment I cannot promise anything to anyone. The only promise I have is to my unborn child. I promise my baby that I’ll do my best to heal so I can be a good mom. Thank God I have several months to get used to the idea.

  Curtis takes a long pause before responding. “Whatever you want,” he says.

  “Thank you.” I take his hand. “Curtis, there’s something I want to tell you.”

  “I think I already know. You don’t want to return to Hollywood, do you?” There’s a bittersweet smile on his face.

  I shake my head and wrap my arms around my stomach. “I don’t think I can. Too much has happened.”

  “So you’re firing me, is that it?” There’s no hint of criticism in his voice. “I’m kidding. I fully understand. I’ll be here as your friend.” He gives me a bittersweet smile. “Do you know what you want to do after this?”

  “Yeah. As soon as Christa and I are discharged, we’re going back home.”

  Curtis nods. A cloud of disappointment touches his features, but he quickly smiles to hide it from me. He’s too slow, though. I know him too well, and it breaks my heart that I’m too broken to give him what he wants.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Seven months later

  The pink and white cake is shaped like a baby bottle. It’s so beautiful that I regret having to cut through it. But everyone is cheering me on.

  A glow of warmth spreads through my chest as I look up to smile, then return my attention back to the cake. I watch as the silver knife with a pink ribbon on the handle sinks into the soft icing. I place the first slice on a clean paper plate.

  “Take the first bite,” Christa calls out over the excited giggles in the room.

  The baby shower was a complete surprise. I was so focused on having a healthy pregnancy and writing my book that having a baby shower never crossed my mind. It wasn’t even important to me.

  In the months after the tragedy, I have hardly made contact with anyone, spending hours of my time inside my new cottage by the beach.

  When we returned to Mistport, Christa and I sold the house we grew up in, both of us needing a new start. My priority was to create a beautiful new home for my baby.

  Christa had met a wonderful man named Dennis—a psychologist—at our weekly group therapy sessions. After only a few weeks of dating, he proposed.

  At first, I was nervous about her relationship, urging her to take her time first to get to know him. But she assured me he was the real thing. She also said that the cancer and the kidnapping had shown her that life is too short and can be taken away anytime. To calm my nerves, I had to remind myself that not every man is like Dax Pierce.

  I gaze past the other faces in the room to find my sister’s face. She looks so happy, happier than I have ever seen her before. Even though I don’t have a man of my own, her happiness is contagious.

  As I look around at the rest of my friends, some new and some old, I’m grateful. I cannot say I have reached the place where I’m truly happy, but I’m on my way.

  The past seven months have been crazy with paparazzi chasing me everywhere, publishers approaching me with book deals, and producers with movie offers. Curtis was wonderful at keeping most of them off my back. Even though I don’t pay him as my agent, he’s still in my life as a friend, like we promised. We haven’t seen each other since he came to see me at the hospital in Stonebay, but we speak on the phone from time to time. I don’t call him as often as he says I should. I need the time to rediscover who I am.

  Even though I didn’t plan on it, writing my book has helped me heal in many ways. I have spent so many hours on it and now I’m almost finished.

  Some people write books for years, but I’m desperate to get everything down on paper so I can move on. I’m still unsure what I’ll do with it once I’m done. I know there will be publishers wanting to snatch it up, but I can’t think about that right now. At the moment I’m writing it for me, not for the money. I’ll decide what comes next after I write “the end”.

  Thankfully, I’ve earned enough in my short years of acting to have a small cushion to fall back on for a while. As Dax’s wife, I had also been entitled to his assets, but I donated everything to the Obsession Inc. Organization that helps women in abusive relationships.

  The one job I do a few times a week is volunteering at an abused women’s shelter.

  The rest of my time is spent reading on the beach, writing, and trying to get back to myself.

  I stay away from reading the papers or watching the news when I can, because my story usually always pops up.

  More details about Dax have emerged. Apparently, he had killed at least ten people, mostly women. The bodies of six of his female victims were found buried under the basement floor of the villa where I first discovered his dark side. A corpse was buried underneath the floor of each room, except two. I’m guessing one of the empty rooms was the one belonging to the Magnolia Girl since he had killed her outside the villa, in a faked suicide, and the other room was meant for me.

  It sends a chill down my spine knowing that when he was showing me those rooms, he knew the corpses of those women were buried underneath.

  I return my attention to my baby shower, amazed that people who once looked down on me are now showing me so much love and support. Even though I was distant emotionally, the moment I stepped foot back in Mistport, I was welcomed with open arms. It’s ironic that I had run away in search of my freedom only to find it here in the end. This is my home, and these are my people. I feel safer here than in Los Angeles.

  I lift my cake to my lips and bite into it, enjoying the sweet chocolate center. Christa comes to me and pulls me into a hug. The baby kicks between us. We both laugh.

  “You look so beautiful pregnant,” she says. “I can’t wait to meet the little princess.” She places both hands on my belly and the baby kicks again.

  In a way, I was relieved when I found out the baby is a girl. I was afraid I would get a boy who resembles Dax. I feared he might grow up to be like his father.

  Everyone gets some cake and we drink sparkling apple cider, but after two hours and too much excitement, I’m exhausted. While my guests continue partying out in the small garden outside, I relax on the couch, alone in my living room.

  A feeling of contentment washes over me when I place my hands on my tummy and feel my baby moving.

  I’m about to fall asleep, when Christa comes back into the house.

  “There’s someone at the door to see you.”

  I blink my sleepy eyes. “A late guest?”

  “You can say that.”

  “Okay.” I sit up straight. “Bring her in.”

  “It’s a he.”

  “A
man?”

  “It’s Curtis, sis.”

  My breath hitches. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Maybe you should ask him yourself.”

  “Okay.” I’m still confused when Curtis walks into the room, but the moment our eyes meet, I realize what had been missing from my life, the last piece of the puzzle.

  He’s wearing blue jeans and a crisp, white shirt. “Hey. What. . .” I swallow hard. “What are you doing here?”

  “A few weeks ago, your sister told me she was planning a baby shower for you. I know it’s only for the ladies, but I hope you don’t mind me showing up.”

  “No, of course not.” I struggle to push myself to my feet. “It’s good to see you.” I hadn’t realized until now how much I missed seeing him. Even though we haven’t seen each other in months, it feels natural having him around.

  “You don’t need to do that. Sit, please.” He comes to join me on the couch and pulls me into a hug I didn’t know I missed. Then I pull back and gaze into his eyes. “Why did you come all this way? I have a feeling you’re not here for the party. You missed all the fun anyway.”

  “Actually, I wanted to see you pregnant.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You are so beautiful.” He raises a hand over my belly. “May I?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. My emotions are spinning out of control. I want to blame the hormones, but I know they aren’t entirely at fault.

  He lays a hand on my stomach. The baby does not kick this time, but the warmth from his palm radiates through my skin straight to my heart.

  “Curtis, why are you really here?” His effect on me is more intense than I had allowed myself to believe. As I watch him, heat curls its way down my spine.

  “Because there’s no place for me in Hollywood, not anymore.”

  “You’re quitting the movie business?”

  He looks deep into my eyes and goosebumps form on my skin.

  “Yeah, it’s time. I think I had a good run.” He lifts his hand from my stomach. “The thing is, after the Dax scandal of him stealing and killing his way into the movie industry, I realized there’s so much dishonesty there, too many skeletons in many people’s closets. It’s not a place that brings me peace anymore.”

  I pluck at the hem of my skirt. “What do you want to do with your life now?”

  He leans back on the couch and stretches his legs out. “I’m thinking of buying a house someplace quiet and spending my life fishing. . . or something.”

  “Really?” I laugh. “I can’t imagine you spending hours fishing. You’ll be like a fish out of water.”

  “That’s true.” He rubs his chin. “Unless I have someone to do it with me.”

  I know where he’s going and I don’t stop him. I suddenly long to hear everything he has to say to me.

  “Emma, I know you’re in a different place in your life now, and you’re not ready for more than friendship. I’m aware that the wounds are still fresh, but I also know that there’s nobody I would rather be with.”

  “I’m pregnant, Curtis.” I hesitate. “I’m pregnant with Dax’s child. He will always be around me even when he’s dead.”

  “That baby you’re carrying is yours too. I can help you raise her to be a beautiful little girl and an amazing woman like you are.”

  “What are you saying?” I push a hand through my layered pixie haircut.

  He places a hand on my cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to marry me. . . yet.” He gives me a mischievous grin. “Not unless you want to, of course.”

  Consumed by my emotions, I don’t respond, so he continues.

  “What I’m asking is your permission to be your neighbor.”

  “My neighbor?” My head snaps up. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m interested in the cottage next door. All I need to hear from you now is a maybe. Then one day when you’re ready, I’ll be here for more. I’ll be next door.” To my surprise, he pushes a hand into his pocket and comes out with a small jewelry box. “I bought this ring for you. You don’t have to wear it now. But keep it until you know.”

  A smile creeps up on my face, warming my entire body. I reach for the box in his hand, but I don’t open it, don’t look at the ring. Not now. But I wrap my fingers around it and give him his answer. “Maybe,” I whisper.

  A lot will happen between now and forever, many celebrations and many struggles, but when Curtis leans into me and presses his lips to mine, I know deep inside me that he’s the man I’ll one day come home to.

  Epilogue

  “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world tonight.” Curtis lifts a hand from the wheel and places it on my thigh.

  I raise my left hand to admire my engagement ring, a simple diamond that means so much. “Thank you for not running away.”

  It’s been two years since Curtis showed up at my baby shower with the promise to wait for me. As promised, he had given me the time I needed to heal. Even though we shared a kiss that day, it never happened again until the night Ella was born.

  I had been so overwhelmed with joy from the experience of bringing my baby into the world with him holding my hand all the way, that when he congratulated me with a kiss, it felt right. He was the one. I had to go to hell and back to see that.

  I gaze at the dark road ahead, thinking about everything that had happened after the kiss that confirmed our love for each other. The best part was watching my beautiful baby grow. She’s so beautiful. Even though she has Dax’s amber eyes, I see more of me in her.

  Every time my mind takes me back there, back to the dungeon, I look at her and remember that beautiful things can be formed from broken things. Broken Things was the perfect title for my New York Times bestselling book. It just seemed fitting and honest.

  I could never have anticipated the success of my self-published memoir. I was completely blown away when I woke up the morning after I hit publish to find it among the top 100 bestsellers. Since then, it went to top 10 and stayed there for weeks. Phone calls started coming in again from traditional publishers and movie producers promising to make me famous again. Each time, I politely declined their offers. I was honest with them. Fame had left a bitter taste in my mouth. I was not going back there.

  “Are you happy?” Curtis gives me a brief glance.

  “Right now, in this moment, I am.”

  “Well, I promise you many more moments like this.”

  “I can’t wait.” I press my hands to my flushed cheeks. “I look forward to forever.”

  Curtis parks the car in front of his cottage and we walk a few steps to mine, hand in hand.

  We kiss on the porch underneath the yellow light from the lamp on the wall, then I unlock the door.

  The lights are on downstairs, but Sadie, the babysitter, is nowhere to be seen.

  “Maybe she fell asleep in Ella’s room again. I’ll go and check. Go to the bedroom. I’ll join you soon.”

  On my way to Ella’s room, I pull out the pins that had held up my updo. I love the feel of my shoulder-length hair falling free. I run my hand through it, appreciating the silky touch.

  I drop the pins on a small table in the hallway. In front of my daughter’s nursery, I stop to smile, then push open the door and freeze.

  Ella is where she should be, sleeping soundly in her crib. I had expected Sadie to be sleeping in the armchair with a storybook on her lap, but she’s not there. Someone else has taken her place.

  A woman with stringy hair and black clothes is sitting where Sadie was supposed to be, watching my baby sleep.

  “Who are you?” Fear showers my back like icy water. I reach for the nearest object that could be used as a weapon, a heavy album on the table nearest to the door.

  The woman turns around and blood drains from my face. The face. The eyes. No, it cannot be. It’s not her. It’s not Dax’s mother.

  “I had to come and see her.” Her eyes are sad, pleading.

  I clutch the edge of the table for support. �
��You are. . . —you’re—”

  “I’m alive. He thought he killed me.” She glances at her shaking hands. “He hit me on the head and threw me into the water. But God wanted me to live. I was barely conscious when I washed up on shore and someone found me.”

  “Get away from my baby.” I tighten my hand around the album. “Get away or I’ll call the police.”

  She nods and pulls herself up, but she’s so weak, she sinks back down. “Sorry,” she says with tears in her eyes. “The shock of everything my son did to you. . . to other people took a toll on my body.”

  “How did you get into my house?” I cross the room to stand between her and the crib, to shield my sleeping baby.

  She drops her gaze to her shaking hands. “The babysitter. I told her the truth, that I’m Ella’s grandmother. I said I would take care of her.”

  As relieved as I am that she, too, survived Dax’s tortures, I’m shaken that she wormed her way into my house, into my life. What if I came home and she had taken the baby? The thought makes my stomach hurt. “I need you to leave.”

  “I will. Just. . . please let me look at her one more time.” She tries to look past me at the crib, but I don’t let her look at Ella.

  “I said leave.” I could call the cops on her, but something inside me won’t let me. She may have survived the horrors of the Black Mamba, but there’s no way she would survive long behind bars. She looks too weak and broken.

  This time she manages to stand. As she takes a few steps toward the door, I notice that she’s swaying.

  She turns to look back at me. “Before Dax got rid of me, he asked me to put the pills—the abortion pills in your drinks. He told me what they were for. He wanted me to do his dirty work. I couldn’t.” Tears roll down her face as she leans against the wall. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but I couldn’t kill my own grandchild. I flushed the pills down the toilet. I lied to him.”

  “Oh, my God,” I say, sinking into the armchair. “You—”