“How much longer, Mel?” his voice grated, its baritone octave rumbling louder in the lofty room.
Melina winced, and then stiffened while a glare darkened her face. “As long as it takes for me to be sure that what I tell you won’t send you running off furious after Marc.” She said, losing her courage to confess all now that he stood before her.
“I told you he was gone.”
“And I wouldn’t put it past you to go trying to hunt him down.” She said, beginning to share Josephine’s fear. In that moment, he appeared absolutely livid.
Yohan’s midnight stare sharpened and Melina stilled herself from flinching when he moved close.
“Do you realize, the longer you keep these secrets, the angrier I become?”
Mel’s lips thinned. Of course, she could see that without having to hear him say it. His body was drawn taut with an anger that seemed to hover invisibly around him.
Softly, she cleared her throat and fixed him with a pleading expression. “Just promise me that-“
“Hold it,” he ordered, shaking his head, “don’t ask me to do that. I won’t. I won’t make you that promise, Meli.”
Melina did step back then, watching him as though he were a stranger.
“I’d do anything for you,” he swore, pressing his hand to his chest for emphasis. “I’ll do anything except promise not to go after Marc.”
She bowed her head, able to accept the words that seemed to pain him to speak. “Then promise not to do anything until you hear everything I have to say. Take real time to think over it before you let your anger take over,” she asked.
Yohan took time to respond. He stroked his jaw while pondering her request and finally met her expectant stare. “Alright. Start talkin’.”
Mel ignored the cold shudder that lilted up her spine and began to put space between her and her husband. “Remember what I told you about Johari calling the night after Marc left my hotel room?”
Yohan began to nod when Mel mentioned her cousin. “I remember,” he said.
“Three months later the shock of…your father’s subtle threat wore off and I realized I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving you,” she faced him then. “Leaving our marriage and letting Marc win-it almost killed me Han. I don’t expect you to believe me but it’s the truth,” she sniffled and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I decided that I wasn’t going to let him win any longer. I was coming home,” she said, turning back to stare out over the gorgeous back lawn. “I couldn’t stand it anymore and I was going to chuck it all and head back when I stopped to check my PO Box.” Her slanting stare took on a far away gleam as she reminisced. “It was almost as if he knew I was coming back that very day.”
“Mel?” Yohan called, tilting his head slightly. The absent tone carrying on her voice held a haunting quality.
Mel turned quickly, realizing she’d spoken aloud. “I already told you I suspected Zara could’ve been on that ship after what you told me. I asked your opinion, but I already knew Marc had taken her.”
Yohan’s long lashes fluttered, nearly closing over his deep-set eyes. The rage boiled inside him like a living thing. “How?” he managed to ask.
“That day, Zara sent me a letter. I don’t know how anyone knew where I was so soon after I left,” she smirked and fluffed out her coarse hair. “I hadn’t even told my parents. Anyway, there it was lying in my PO Box. Zara never mentioned Marc by name, but after his…threat everything became crystal clear. What she did tell me, was that she was pros-prostituting herself-“ Her words broke and she began to cry.
“Son of a bitch,” Yohan hissed.
“Said she loved it, that she was being treated very nice.”
“’Very nice’, she was probably rotting on that slave ship,” Yohan pointed out darkly.
Mel swallowed. “That’s what I believe. But it was the way she ended her letter that told me I could never go back to you.”
Yohan simply folded his arms across his chest and waited.
“In her letter, Zara told me I had to stay away from you or her life would be over.”
Her eyes narrowed again, this time Yohan didn’t bother to conceal his anger. The heavy arm chair he stood next to was suddenly turned on its side. Then, his anger redirected towards Melina.
“Why the hell didn’t you come to me with this?!”
Mel could barely see him through her tears. “Things just happened so fast at the cabin and I-“
“Dammit I’m not talking about Alaska! Why didn’t you tell me before? Before you ran off without ever telling me what the hell was really going on!”
Mel was crying frantically now. “I knew Marc would-“
“I’m not afraid of my father, Mel!”
“But I was!” she cried, slapping tears from her face. “I believed and still believe he would’ve killed her.”
“Ah Mel, my father used Zara to scare you into doing nothing,” he cast off with a wave of his hand. “Damn I wish you had just called his bluff.”
“I would never have done that,” Mel told him simply.
Yohan shrugged. “And Pop knew it.”
The distinctive screech of car tires rang out and all conversation ceased. Yohan and Melina ran out of the living room, arriving on the front porch just in time to see a black Sedan spreading down the white brick driveway leading from the house.
“She wouldn’t listen! She just wouldn’t listen!” Rita Hotchkiss ranted, her brown face appearing puffy in the wake of extensive crying.
Melina and Yohan joined the hysterical woman on the bottom porch step. “What happened Rita?” Mel asked.
“She wouldn’t listen. She just wouldn’t…” Rita continued to moan, as though she hadn’t heard Melina’s question.
“Miss Rita?” Yohan called, taking both the woman’s hands and squeezing them firmly. “Miss Rita, who? Who wouldn’t listen? Ma?”
Rita blinked. “She’s gone.” She told Yohan, looking directly into his eyes.
“But why, Rita?” Mel urged.
“She’s had these plans for months. Plans to leave,” Rita confided looking away from Melina and Yohan’s shocked expressions. “I thought she’d changed her mind after your father left,” she glanced at Yohan, and then shook her head. “I guess she hadn’t. She ran upstairs and told me to get the suitcases already packed in the closet while she called for the car.” Rita quickly explained, her chest heaving frantically beneath the crisp black uniform.
“Miss Rita, where’s she going?” Yohan asked, taking the woman’s arms in a gentle hold.
Rita shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her brown eyes pooling with tears once more. “I’m scared, I’m so scared,” she admitted, crying into Yohan’s shoulder.
Mel walked over to rub a reassuring hand across Rita’s back. “Shh….” She urged.
Rita pulled away. “You two don’t understand. Josephine is not a well woman. It was one reason I insisted on staying here with her fulltime instead of coming in each day.
Mel exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Yohan. “Why was that necessary?” she inquired slowly.
Rita looked toward Yohan as well, before she buried her head. “She tried to kill herself. More than once and now she’s gone God knows where with no one to look out for her.”
“Han,” Mel gasped, growing as unsettled as Rita.
Rita began to tremble and Yohan pulled her closer. “Miss Rita will you be alright here?” he asked, prepared to close the house and take the woman back to her home in the city.
Sniffling softly, Rita managed a nod and cleared her throat. “I’ll be fine.”
“Can we take you home?” Mel asked.
Rita shook her head. “No child, I’ll wait right here. Someone should be here in case she calls,” she cast a lingering look back at the house.
“You know you don’t have to do that. We’ll get on this,” Yohan promised her, “We’ll find her.”
Rita patted his chest. “I know baby, I know. But I need t
o be here. I’ll go crazy with worry at home.”
Nodding resolvedly, Yohan kissed her cheek, and then turned away to find his cellular. Mel pulled Rita into a hug.
“You call if you need anything,” Mel whispered.
“I will, I will,” Rita promised, “I hope they find her,” she added, watching Yohan as he spoke on the phone.
Mel nodded. “They will,” she promised, then escorted her across the few steps to the front door. “You get inside now and don’t worry.”
Mel waited for the front door to close behind Rita before allowing her own worry to resurface. She’d known Josephine was upset-so was she. But to run the way she had… Mel shook her head and told herself everything would be fine.
“Let’s go.”
Forgetting her worry, Mel turned to Yohan. He’d finished his phone conversation and stood watching her with a closed expression.
“Go?” she parroted, glancing towards the house. “But we can’t just leave with everything that-“
“We can’t do anything from here and we’ve got a conversation to finish.”
The look in Mel’s eyes mirrored the surprise in her voice. “You can’t be serious. What about your mother?”
Yohan pulled keys from his pocket. “We’ll find her, but we need to finish this.”
“Why can’t we talk here?”
Yohan’s smile was not reassuring. “I have a better place in mind.”
Mel decided not to argue further. Casting one last look at the house, she shrugged and turned to head for her rented Acura.
“I’ll have it sent back to the Montgomery,” Yohan offered, extending his hand for her keys.
Stunned that he even knew where she was staying, Melina nodded. Absently, she dropped her car keys into his palm. Her ears filled with the sound of her heartbeat, the instant his hand cupped her elbow. She remained quiet, focusing on the birds singing in the air amidst the rustle of wind in the tree leaves. Unfortunately, the soothing sounds did nothing to diminish the nervous rumbling in her stomach. Finally, she gathered her courage to ask the question screaming inside her head.
“Where are we going?”
Yohan said nothing. He continued to lead her towards the mammoth-sized olive green Hummer; parked diagonally along one side of the wide driveway.
Melina braced herself, refusing to take another step until he gave her an answer.
Accepting her stubbornness, Yohan simply leaned down and neatly drew her across his shoulder. Mel was so stunned, she couldn’t even gasp. Opening the passenger side door, Yohan deposited his wife on the seat.
“We’re going home,” he informed her quietly, then slammed the passenger door shut.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once Yohan had angled his Hummer into the driveway, Melina just managed to open her door. Beyond that, nothing happened. Her voice had jaunted off for parts unknown and her slanting stare had stretched as wide as it would go. There before her was the house-the home she left eight years ago. The beautiful gray brick dwelling; with its deep porches, man-made pond in the center of a gorgeous horseshoe drive was a place created for comfort. It was the mark of two people who adored being home-alone.
A wave of dizziness overcame Mel as she recalled almost every intimate moment. The days and nights inside the spaciously cozy ten bedroom house, had been filled with more than its fair share of love, laughter and passion.
Her eyes were still devouring the gargantuan trees that provided graceful privacy, when Yohan came round to escort her from the SUV. He was silent as well-knowing how affected she had to be by the sight of the place. He was just as affected. Not a night went by that he hadn’t envisioned the day when she’d be there again. Back in his life-as his wife. His lips twisted into a cold smile, they were a far cry from that he acknowledged. There were still secrets remaining between them-secrets he silently admitted he was terrified to hear her reveal. Still; he understood that until they were uncovered, a life-any life together would be a vain hope.
A growl of aggravation was forcing its way up inside his chest. Massaging his neck, Yohan closed his eyes and ordered himself to be patient. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her-well more than he already had. As anger-filled as he was toward his father, it would take all his strength to abide by her request that he hear everything she had to say before he flew into rage.
Melina tensed as they approached the front door. They would be there alone for hours at least. There would be plenty of time to tell him everything. Even about Crane? A voice inquired. There’d be no interruptions and she could get it all out in one fell swoop.
She knew she wouldn’t tell him about Crane. That wouldn’t happen, she decided with a resolving smile coming to her mouth. Knowing how on edge he was…in spite of the fact that Marc had disappeared…someone needed to be there. Fernando and Moses would have to be present-anyone aside from just herself. Besides, she wasn’t ashamed of the fact that she hadn’t the desire or the courage to tell him on her own.
Unfortunately, that only left her with one story to tell and it was just as devastating-maybe more so. Yohan’s cellular rang just as he was pushing open the door.
Mel’s lashes fluttered close as she celebrated the interruption. She uttered a relieved sign and walked deeper inside the house while he handled the call. Her lips parted as they often did when ever she studied the lofty ceilings that still managed to fill the rooms with a distinct sense of intimacy. She’d missed her home terribly. Here were all the touches-the personal attentions that made a house a home. No matter where she lived nothing-no place would ever instill completeness the way this place did.
~~~
“Man, what the hell is this invite from Stef Lyons about?” Moses was asking his youngest brother.
Yohan frowned, glancing across his shoulder at Mel strolling towards the living room. “No idea-I didn’t get one, thank God.”
Moses uttered a chuckle. “Hmph, not yet. I can’t understand why I’d get one. I’m not involved with Ramsey that way.”
“You got me, man,” Yohan said.
“I got too much on my plate to be attending some stuffy business party anyway.”
“So what’s up? Any more news on Pop?” Yohan asked.
Moses signed. “Hell no, it’s like the man just fell off the damn face of the earth. Probably just as well anyway.”
“Nah. Marc’s got too much to pay for.” Yohan argued, strolling slowly in the direction he’d seen Melina headed.
“What’s that tone about, man? Somethin’ else popped off that I need to know about?” Moses questioned.
Yohan’s hand clutched reflexively around the thin phone. He couldn’t tell him about Zara anywhere but in person. “We need to talk, face to face.”
“Just name the time and place, man.”
“Later. Right now, I need to tell you about Ma.”
“What about her?” Moses asked after brief hesitation.
“Disappeared. According to Miss Rita, she’s been plannin’ it for months. She says Ma’s tried to kill herself…more than once. I want you to put someone on it. It’s probably nothin’ to get crazy over-“
“You’re right. So you’ll understand if I don’t waste any of my man hours on it.”
Yohan closed his eyes, having expected the reaction. “She’s your mother, man,” he noted softly.
“Mmm and I’m sure she would’ve changed that any day of the week.”
“Mo-“
“Hell man, don’t try to act like she’s treated me with anything but contempt and coldness. All because I looked like Marc-what kind of crap is that?”
Yohan had no response.
“I’m sorry,” Moses groaned and then laughed shortly as though he couldn’t believe he’d gotten so carried away. “Just please forgive me if I’m not all upset and worried because she’s run off in some emotional stupor.”
“I understand, Mo,” Yohan whispered, knowing the hurt and possibly the hate between his brother and mother ran deep. The seeds were pos
sibly planted before he was even born. “Just do what you can, Mo. For me,” he urged and then ended the call.
~~~
Melina was still inspecting her home-or more accurately, Yohan’s home. It was clearly a man’s lair now. Every square foot was beautiful and dark like him. All the chairs were gorgeous and monstrous-large enough to swallow her. Mel smiled and closed her eyes, admitting that she’d relish being consumed by the exquisite luxury of each cushiony, black armchair, sofa or recliner. She peeked into a den that housed the most impressive movie collection she’d ever seen. One complete wall was stocked floor to ceiling with DVDs. He’d also acquired several older movies which were on reels for the screen and projector she knew he owned.
She looked into the reading room-still the same as she remembered. There were probably only a few more hundred books and magazines littering the place, she acknowledged with a whimsical smile. The room was still full of beanbags and futons. Her contentment settled warm and sweet within her heart in response to the erotic memories that rose to the surface of her mind. Clearing her throat hastily, she hurried from the room before more of the lusty memories rushed forth.
Her tour led her to the ground floor which housed Yohan’s gym, sports bar and Rec Room. In spite of their love for privacy, Melina could recall several Saturday afternoons there with Yohan, his brothers and cousins enjoying a strenuous workout session, then drinks and a televised ballgame. How many women would pay good money to see the Ramsey gods sweaty and half-dressed? She often mused.
Her steps slowed as she approached what looked like some sort of punching bag meat rack. There had to be at least eight of the towering black bags hanging from the ceiling. Her gasp resounded in the room as her inspection revealed the slaughtered appearance of the equipment. The stuffing poked out from the various slices in the sturdy material. In some areas there were full sized holes. Unsettled by the grizzly condition of the scene, Melina backed out of the punching bag forest, until she bumped to a stop.
Turning, she found Yohan right behind her and a soft laugh escaped her. “I guess I know what you need for Christmas-new punching bags,” she teased. “Lots of frustration to work off, I guess,” she cleared her throat.
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