Blank Slate

by Olivia Saxton

  “I wasn’t sure then, but when I saw that mag online, I ordered the hard copy,” Carter answered. “The online version only gave a short snippet of the article.”

  Everyone was quiet again for a few moments.

  “Keisha is a Mitchell. She’s one of us,” Carter stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Okay,” Ebony said and sipped her drink.

  “What?” Hugo blurted out with bewilderment.

  “I said okay. He supplied the evidence that this child is one of us. If so, we need to bring her home,” Ebony explained.

  “What?” Hugo exclaimed.

  “You don’t believe she’s his?” Wendy asked nonchalantly.

  “Hell . . . I don’t know.” Maybe the kid was Carter’s, but he would feel better if some sort of DNA test was conducted.

  “Look at the pic, Hugo. She’s mine,” Carter said.

  He decided to play along, walking over to Wendy and taking the magazine from her. He examined the child. “Well, her mother is light-skinned, too.”

  “Yep,” Carter confirmed.

  Yes, there is a chance, considering Carter’s reasons, but that doesn’t mean Lana has to come along. “Okay. But her mother is a problem.”

  “No, she’s not. We don’t know how long she has had her memory back,” Carter said. “She was probably dazed when she told those guys her real name.”

  “So you think she’s remembered the whole time?” Wendy asked.

  “Not the whole time, but I believe things started coming back to her sooner than we know. She didn’t contact the FBI,” Carter said.

  “As we know of,” Hugo added.

  “I’ve been in contact with her. I was doing a slow seduction, but since this has become an immediate concern, we’ll have to get a little heavy-handed,” Carter said.

  “Meaning?” Wendy inquired.

  “We need to fetch Lana and Keisha ASAP,” Carter said.

  “What makes you think she still wants to be with you? Shit, Carter, she ran off and contacted the FBI,” Ebony said with exaggeration in her tone.

  “It was my fault. I pushed too hard. She got angry and got back at me the only way she knew how,” Carter explained with a hint of regret.

  Hugo exhaled. He still didn’t trust her, but Carter was the eldest, and he made all the final decisions. Besides, if that little girl was one of them, she should be with them. She was their future. “So what’s your plan?”

  “You, me, and a couple of guys go down to Florida and bring Lana and Keisha home,” Carter said simply as he picked up his drink.

  “When?” Hugo asked.

  “Tomorrow,” he answered.

  “But tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Wendy said.

  “And the day after that is Christmas Day,” Carter said. “The newest Mitchell will be playing with her new toys from Santa here in the penthouse with her mother and father.”

  ****

  Lana and Keisha were at the bank. She had withdrawn as much cash out of her account as possible. Then she asked for someone to let her in the safety deposit box area. The bank manager let her and Keisha in. After they did the double key ritual, the manager left her and Keisha alone in the room.

  She had gotten a safety deposit box a few days after she had visited the gun range for the first time. As the weeks went on, she had slowly piled cash and some jewelry in it. She wasn’t sure why she did it at the time. It just felt like the right thing to do. But now with all her memories restored, she knew she did it out of instinct. Living the on the edge life with Carter had trained her to be prepared for emergencies; enough cash to disappear for a while and a place to go that no one knew about.

  After her total recall episode, she had remembered that she had about ten grand in a secret compartment she had created in her old carry-on. In hindsight, she couldn’t believe that Lacey didn’t sniff the cash out.

  “Mommy, I need to sit down,” Keisha said with a pout.

  She stopped loading the cash in her big purse and picked Keisha up, then set her down on the steel table next to the box. Before she took her hands from around her daughter, she noticed that the lights in the room had illuminated Keisha’s eyes. Lana furrowed her brows as she examined the small flecks of blue in her pupils.

  Her memory was on point about when she ran out of birth control pills and her period being three days late four years ago. Lana smiled as she brushed Keisha’s dark brown hair.

  “What is it, Mommy? Are you smiling because you have so much money?”

  Lana laughed. “Under normal circumstances, that’s what I would be smiling about. But today, I’m smiling because I have such a special little girl.” She kissed Keisha on her forehead.

  She finished her business at the bank and loaded Keisha in her car seat. Then she got in the driver’s seat. Her cell chimed that she got a text message. Lana looked at it. Her breath caught when she saw it was Carter.

  I’ll be calling you in a few minutes. Get somewhere where you can answer, Carter.

  She wanted nothing to do with Carter. The FBI probably still wanted him, but it was more than her at stake now. She had a daughter. And Izabella was along for the ride, too.

  “God,” she breathed as her head fell back on the headrest.

  Her cell rang. She was afraid to answer it, but she was more afraid of what might happen if she didn’t. “Hello?”

  “Hey. How are you?” Carter asked.

  He sounded strange. Lana knew him well enough to know when he was up to something. “I’m fine. I got your text. It seems like you really needed to talk to me.”

  “I do. I’m on my way to Tampa. My flight is about to take off now. You have until ten o’clock tonight to meet me at the country club hotel. I’ll leave a room key for you at the front desk.”

  “I can’t meet you,” she said quickly. “I . . . we shouldn’t see each other. I’m married.”

  “I know you have remembered . . . at least some things . . . Lana. So let’s stop pretending,” he said seriously.

  Her mouth dropped open. The amnesia was the only protection she had against Carter. If he thought she had no memory, she was no threat to him. “Lana? What are you talking about?”

  He laughed so loud that she had to take the phone away from her ear. “That’s cute, but playing dumb was never your specialty. Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. It’s your choice, baby.”

  A cold shiver went up her spine. How did he find out so quickly? She had just remembered who she was that afternoon? She had just told Lacey about Carter, and she wouldn’t betray her. Izabella didn’t know how to contact Carter, and she wouldn’t have anything to gain by working with him. Lana had treated her well. Unless Carter had connections at the INS — no, Izabella had never shown any guile. The guys who were at the storage unit had looked like thugs; that’s why she had asked Lacey who they were. They could have been following her.

  Shit, it was them.

  Carter didn’t mess around. He had a way of making fast connections. And if it wasn’t him, it was Hugo, his right-hand man.

  “Are you still there, Lana?” he asked.

  It was no use to keep playing dumb. It would only piss him off. “I’m still here.”

  “Good. Pack the essentials for you and our daughter and meet me at ten.”

  “Our daughter?”

  “I know Keisha’s my daughter, not that milk dud you married, Lana. It’s time to come home so we can be a family.”

  She was surprised by what he said, but she shook herself out of it, realizing that it was the only leverage she had against him. The only way to protect Keisha was to let him believe that. If he allowed his mongrels to sell dope to kids, she wouldn’t put it past him to kill one outright. “You want to take us back to New York tonight?”

  “Yes, I have chartered a jet. The girl will love it, I think.”

  “Maybe. She’s never been on a plane before. This is sudden. What about Damien?”

  “What about him?”

  “She be
lieves he’s . . . you know,” she said remembering that Keisha was in the back seat.

  “We’ll explain all that to her on the way back,” Carter said.

  “You’ve only given me a few hours. I can’t—"

  “Just pack the essentials, leave a note for the idiot or tell him in person, then get to the country club — whichever you prefer.”

  Damn. He wasn’t going to let her stall him for twenty-four hours.

  “Look, I know what went down with us four years ago was nasty, and I take full responsibility. I’ve changed, and I’ll prove it every day for the rest of our lives. The reason I’ve changed is because of you . . . and our little girl. I’ve missed you, Lana.”

  She didn’t miss him, and she wanted him gone forever. “I’ve . . . I’ve missed you, too. I was afraid to . . . to tell you that . . .”

  “You got your memory back. I understand. Yeah, I was pissed that you ran to the FBI, but now I know you did that to protect yourself, and you were angry. I’m willing to put it behind us.”

  “I am, too.” Lana wanted to vomit after she said it. The only thing she didn’t regret was going to the feds for help. This was a waste of time, and she needed all the time she could get. Lana decided to end the phone call. “I’ll come, sweetheart, but I won’t be able to do it until midnight. Can you wait until then?” She wanted to buy herself a few hours just in case.

  “Why midnight?”

  “Damien will be gone by then. He has to work the graveyard shift at the hospital. I don’t want a scene.”

  “Daddy?” Keisha inquired.

  Lana turned around and put her finger to her lips to indicate for Keisha to be quiet.

  “All right, midnight it is. I love you, Lana. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  Oh god. Her insides bubbled with disgust. “I love you.” Alec.

  The line went dead.

  Lana put her phone in her purse.

  “Mommy, was that Daddy?”

  “No,” she answered a little too sternly. Then she turned around in the seat to face Keisha. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t to mean to sound so sharp. But, no, that wasn’t Daddy.”

  “Are we going to see him now?”

  Not exactly.

  “No, honey, remember Daddy is working.”

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  “We’re going to get Izabella and then we’re going to talk to a friend of mine.”

  Chapter 41

  Damien had been able to come home for a quick bite to eat with his family before going to the hospital for a few hours. When he had walked through the door and saw the word Memrose spray painted on the living room wall, he had never been so shocked in his life.

  Somehow, someway, Layla had gotten her memory back. If that wasn’t bad enough, she knew that he had used Memrose on her. He had groaned with agony when he discovered half of Keisha and Layla’s clothes were gone.

  “Damn it!” Damien roared with anger and frustration. He didn’t know whether to pack his own bags and head for the airport or try to find them. He knew what he did was illegal, and his medical licenses would definitely be revoked. However, he loved his family, and he wanted them back.

  He plopped down at the top of the stairs and buried his face in his hands. Layla had been acting differently for the past few months. He thought it was the pressure of fitting in with Tampa’s social class. And Keisha. Layla had taken her and run off, probably thinking he was insane. So what if he wasn’t her biological father? Damien loved that little girl more than his own life.

  Scrambling to his feet, he went into his office. He searched his drawers. The keys to his storage unit were gone. “God! How did she figure it out? Who else did she tell?” Layla had all day to contact the Florida State Medical Board. She could have even contacted the police. There could be a warrant out for his arrest right now.

  Damien fought through the panic of the fear of what might happen. He looked at his watch. He should have left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago. It would be the first place they looked for him.

  He raced back to the bedroom and pulled out his burgundy rolling suitcase. The thought of him not packing his own clothes for three and a half years plagued him as he raced around the room for his things. Whatever he forgot he would buy if it was necessary. Damien ran back to his office and opened the bottom cabinet on his desk. His hands trembled as he pressed the buttons on his safe. He grabbed his passport and a thousand dollars in cash. Leaving the safe open, he went back into the bedroom. He stuffed the cash in his carry-on laptop case and the passport in his pocket.

  Looking around the room to make sure he got what was absolutely necessary at least, an idea formed in his mind. What if Layla had left a clue to where she and Keisha were going? Damien went to Layla’s side of the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand. There wasn’t anything in it but a romance novel, a notepad, and three pens. Leaving the drawer open, he walked over to her vanity table. He haphazardly pulled out drawers and went through the contents, throwing some things on the floor so he could search thoroughly. Damien pulled at the center drawer. It was locked, but he had seen a small key in the bottom drawer. He took the key and inserted it in the small hole. Thankful that it worked, he yanked the drawer open. His dark eyes widened as he gazed on the silver gun with the long barrel. There was also a box of bullets and a purple, felt-covered journal in the drawer.

  She must have bought this for protection just in case something happened, and I was at the hospital.

  Damien picked up the weapon and opened the chamber. It was loaded. He stuffed the gun in his pocket, and he emptied the bullets out of the box on top of the vanity. Grabbing handfuls of the ammunition, he stuffed them in his other pocket. Then he flipped through the diary. From what he picked up from his quick skimming, Layla had gone to a shrink behind his back. Dr. Victoria Samuelson. He had heard of her during his time developing and perfecting Memrose. She was renowned for her expertise in helping amnesia patients. How did Layla hear of her? How long had she’d known what he’d done? And how long had she faked being a happy housewife and mom? He knew nothing about the person that she was before; the gun, the aggressive sex, heavy makeup, and provocative clothes had to be remnants of her old personality.

  You’ve overstepped your bounds, Victoria Samuelson. Who do you think you are, messing with my life and the life of my family?

  He should have gotten a call from the psychiatrist right after Layla’s consolation. He was Layla’s husband and his money paid for her visits. HIPPA laws be damned.

  You better hope we never meet face to face, you meddling bitch.

  The journal also revealed that Layla was slowly getting her memories back. Some things made sense to her and some things didn’t. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time to read it thoroughly now.

  ****

  Lacey was in the kitchen throwing away the Chinese cartoons that she had emptied for dinner. Corey had just told her that he expected a home-cooked meal for dinner on Christmas Day. She wondered if she could call a personal chef to prepare a meal in advance on such short notice. Layla wasn’t going to be there to cover her butt again.

  The doorbell rang.

  Corey was in the living room, so she didn’t worry about getting it. She had thrown the silverware and glasses in the dishwasher a few minutes earlier.

  “Hey, Lacey,” Corey called. “Can you come in here for a minute?”

  I hope it’s not those damn Jehovah’s Witnesses again. Corey liked to troll her when they showed up, calling her out front and letting them talk to her as he slowly slipped into the living room. Lacey turned on the dishwasher and started making her way to the foyer.

  When she went to the foyer, she was surprised to see Damien. Of course, Lacey knew it was a possibility that he would come over to question her when he discovered that Layla was gone. However, she didn’t expect to hear from him tonight. Layla had said that he wouldn’t get home until late because he had to pull a last-minute shift at the hospital.
/>   “Lacey, did you see Layla today?” Corey asked seriously.

  “Yes.”

  Corey and Damien looked at each other. Then back at her like they expected her to give them more information. She wasn’t unless they pried. So she added, “Why?”

  “You know why,” Damien said in a deep tone. “She’s gone. She took Keisha, packed some clothes, and disappeared.”

  “Lacey, did Layla tell you that she was leaving Damien?” Corey asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Corey asked with confusion.

  “It’s okay, Corey,” Damien said quickly as he stared at Lacey.

  Yeah, you son of bitch. You know I know.

  “I just need to know where they went,” Damien said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “If she told anybody, it would have been you,” Damien said as his skin started turning gray.

  “She didn’t tell me – wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Liar!” he yelled.

  Lacey jumped at his shouting. She had known Damien for over a year, and she had never seen him angry or ever heard him shouting.

  “Hey, man!” Corey warned in a deep tone as he stepped in Damien’s personal space. “I understand that you’re upset, but that’s my wife. Now, she said twice that Layla didn’t tell her where she was going. You might be better off calling a PI or just be patient and wait until she contacts you.”

  “You’d be better off getting out of my face!” Damien shouted and shoved Corey so hard that he stumbled backward toward Lacey.

  Luckily, she had stepped out of the way, or else Corey would have toppled on top of her. When she looked back up, Damien had a gun in his hand. It looked like Layla’s Python. She immediately put her hands up.

  Lacey bit her bottom lip. Her gun was upstairs. She couldn’t run to get it without going past Damien. She could take the stairs in the kitchen, but she didn’t know if Corey would follow her. She couldn’t leave him. What if Damien shot him as she ran?

  “Okay,” Corey began in a softer tone. He had his hands up. “Damien, put the gun down. There’s no reason to have it here. We are no threat to you.”