Blackout (Lewiston Blues Series/Black Family Saga Book 2)

by Scully, Felicia X.

  “Where did you work?”

  I swallow, my mind working to come up with a cover story. But as quickly as I do, I change my mind. If I can’t tell her, what does that make me? “For my dad. It was only one time, but I think about it almost everyday.”

  “What did you do? What kind of work?”

  “There was this girl—Sara Chase. I liked her. He knew that. I was so stupid. She was pretty and older and she paid to attention to me. She made me feel different than all the other girls. She wasn’t shy about what she thought of me and she taught me a lot. About everything. I spent all my free time with Sara. Even brought her over to the house. She was my first real girlfriend. Back then, I thought I’d marry that girl. ” I massage my temples. “But she wasn’t really into me, not like I thought anyway. He used her to get to me.”

  “How?”

  “Sara was my dad’s girlfriend. One of them anyway. She’s the reason…” I hold my breath and, letting it out slowly, I close my eyes again.

  “Ross, you can tell me. It’s okay.”

  I only hope it will be. Not that it matters. Not now. Either way, she leaves. But there have been enough secrets between us. Little things that festered and turned us against each other. If there’s one thing I learned from my parents, it’s that secrets blow things up. “I guess he needed to butter me up. Show me what being a part of the family business was really all about. So he used his girlfriend to do it. If I hadn’t have caught them together, I wouldn’t have known. I thought she was just as innocent as me. I felt bad for getting her involved. But, no, she knew all along. She’d do anything for him. Loyal until death.”

  “What happened?”

  “I caught her fucking my dad. Mom was at work. Luke was at school. I cut out early, hoping to invite her over. But she was already there. Spread out on the living room floor, my dad on top of her.”

  Sheila doesn’t respond and I can’t blame her.

  I pull her a little closer, squeezing her and kissing her cheek. “Whatever. Everyone’s got to deal with heartbreak at some point or another, right? Funny thing is, that’s not what I remember. It’s not what I think about every day. It’s everything that led up to that moment. It’s not that she was screwing my dad behind my back, it’s that they both sucked me in. Made me into something I never wanted to be.”

  “What?”

  “A few months after I met her, we went out on a date. Same place we always went. This little place by the pier. What I didn’t know is we were doing a drop for my dad. He asked me to drop off a package for a friend. I had no idea what was in there. But Sara, she knew everything. She was my look out.”

  “A drop?”

  I nod, my gaze holding hers.

  “You mean drugs?” she raises her eyebrows.

  “I was oblivious to the whole damn thing. Pissed when all was said and done. Didn’t even know who my dad really was until that night. I screamed at him for ruining my life. I was ready to call the cops. I just wanted to save myself. But then,” I sigh. “He started railing on me about the life I lived, the house we had, all the things he bought me. Then he threw Berklee in my face. Told me if I wanted to go to some fancy school I had to pay my dues. Dad came into a lot of money that week. Gave me the cut he promised. My Berklee bill was paid. He even set up Trust Funds for Luke and me. So neither of us would ever have to compromise our integrity again. Guess he had a conscience after all. But not Sara. She knew. The whole time she knew. And I defended her. I screamed at him for getting her involved and he didn’t even let on. Just swore me to secrecy. And...”

  “The rest is history.”

  “No one else in this town knew anything about the man he really was until the night Sara died. She was trying to smuggle drugs across the border. The shit exploded in her—killed her instantly.”

  Sheila covers her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.

  “It was two years later. I’d already moved to Boston, so I was safe. No one suspected a thing. And I kept my little secret to myself. Not even Luke knows. All this time I’ve been the good guy. The brother who threw it all away out of the goodness of his heart. But really it was the guilt. I had to make amends. For Luke. If I’d just said something that night this whole mess would be non-existent. Sara would be alive. The Chase’s wouldn’t want to crucify us—”

  “But your dad would still be in jail. Luke would still have needed you. You were a kid. You wouldn’t have been able to take care of him like you did.”

  “It doesn’t make what I did, the part I played in this whole thing, right.”

  “You were manipulated, Ross. You may not have done the right thing at the time, but the right thing when you’re young and dying to live your dream isn’t the same as the right thing in retrospect. You were desperate. We’ve all been there.”

  “But not everyone’s juvenile decisions costs people their lives. Their security.”

  “No?” She scoffs.

  “No,” I say. “You didn’t force Shannon and Luke together. Her death was a freak accident. It’s tragic. But it’s not the same. I’ve got blood on my hands. I could have stopped it. Death, hate, loneliness all of it. But I was selfish. Too focused on my own dreams. And sometimes I still think…” I cast a quick glance in her direction, struggling to keep the words I know I shouldn’t say to myself. “If anyone’s to blame for what happened last year…”

  “You’re not,” Sheila says. She holds my face between her hands, urging me to look at her. “We talked about this, Ross. It’s just your destiny. Mine. Shannon’s and Luke’s too. Whether you asked Luke to go on tour with the band or not, the idea of him and Shannon meeting and falling in love isn’t so crazy. They went to the same school. They fell for each other and nothing anyone could do or say was going to keep them apart. If anyone should know that it’s me. They were meant to be together. Maybe not forever but at least they found each other. And so did we. So we can’t keep punishing ourselves for their fate. We need to live our lives.”

  I offer a faint smile. Every ounce of me wants to ask her to help me, to ride off into the sunset maybe even do what I’ve been imagining all these weeks and taking care of Luke’s kids together. It’s not the worst idea in the world. In fact, when I think about it, things are turning out exactly the way I wanted to. Maybe even better. She’s going home and we’re still connected. But I can’t bring myself to say the words. Not after the way I treated her last night. Not after the things I accused her of. Besides, I need to stop struggling. Even though putting up a fight for my family is second nature, I need to let it go.

  “I wish you would have told me what your sister asked of you.” She stiffens a little and I run my fingers up and down her arms. “I understand why you didn’t though, why it was so hard for you. And I’m sorry for everything that went down. But you know what I think? I think you have a chance to really make your mark. The tattoo you got is sweet. Symbolic and all that shit, but no one gets an opportunity like this, Sheila. It’s a real opportunity of a lifetime.”

  For the longest while we just lie there and I revel in every second of our time together. I’ve been itching to hold her like this for weeks, forcing myself to stay on the other side of the line. I stroke her hair, dropping a kiss on her bare skin every so often and breathing in her scent. Eventually, I find myself drifting off, her face the only thing I see as I close my eyes.

  “About Berklee,” she says lazily. My eyes flutter open and my heart rate kicks up a notch. “Sounds like a pretty big break.”

  How the hell does she know about that? I haven’t told a soul. I’m still struggling to believe it myself.

  “I guess it’s technically not an opportunity of a lifetime, seeing as in one lifetime they’ve come calling on you twice.” She kisses my chin and smoothes her hand over my chest. “That’s pretty impressive, Ross. What are you going to do?”

  I shrug, unsure of how to answer. With everything that’s happened, I haven’t even considered the possibility that…it could be a possibility. Bu
t right now, I don’t want to think about it. All I want to do for the next few hours is make up for lost time.

  I roll onto my side, gazing into her eyes. “Tired?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “Good.” I don’t give her a chance to respond. I scoop her up and roll her on top of me. We stare at each other for a long while, before she finally inches forward her lips grazing mine.

  “I’ve missed this,” I say.

  “Me too,” she smiles, deviously before nipping on my bottom lip. “But this time, I’m in control.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Sheila

  The strip of grass, warped from the frozen ground, has yet to settle and the rectangular seam breeds an looming sense of doom. I’ve seen it so many times before and had the same dark thought: Someone’s in there. Someone’s life is over. Someone’s death has begun. So has someone’s grief.

  Something cold brushes my hand and my gaze darts first to the manicured fingers lacing with mine, then quickly up to her face.

  “I knew you’d come around.”

  I look away from those beaming blue eyes and back at the ground. Her hand is warm now and I close my eyes as I speak, desperate to shut out her jovial air. She’s not supposed to be happy about this. There’s nothing good about this.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I wish you’d gotten a chance to enjoy it all. Him. Them.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. You fell in love and God snatched it away. He snatched you away. You’re gone.”

  “And you’re here. So be here, Sheila. Let it go. Let me go.”

  I wake up slowly, even though my heart is slamming against my ribs. I throw the covers off and swing my feet over the side of the bed. I’m breathing so hard my mouth is parched and when I rub my eyes I realize they’re damp.

  Shannon.

  The dreams of her have always seemed real, but I always chalked it up to my sadness. My desperation. The inability to let her go.

  Let it go.

  This time, I’m sure it’s her. She’s somehow contacted me, as crazy as it sounds and without actually saying the words, she’s confirmed what I have to do. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.

  I step out into the hallway and linger for a moment, listening to Ross busy himself in the kitchen. Then I head to my room to pack. During my twenty-minute shower, I prepare myself for the speech. What I’ll say. How he’ll react.

  He’s waiting in his bedroom when I return and by the way he’s pacing back and forth along the foot of the bed, I can tell he knows what’s coming. He watches me, as I close the door behind me. As much as I want to, I don’t move from the spot, feeling the need to keep as much distance between as possible until I get out what I have to.

  He’s nervously licking his lips, as he waits for me to speak. Before I do, I take a deep breath and paint on the most genuine smile I can muster.

  “Thank you, Ross.”

  He bows his head, his shoulders dropping. But he quickly composes himself, glancing back up at me with a smile. “You’re welcome, Blue.”

  “You got me happy,” I say.

  “I’m glad.”

  I shrug. “Truth be told, I’m still a little sad.”

  Roscoe sits on the edge of the bed and beckons for me to join him. I make my way slowly across the room and perch beside him.

  “I think you should take that job,” I say.

  “I think so, too.” He laughs. “I hate that club. The music, the people. It’s not me. There’s nothing more I can do for my brother and with my mom back…”

  “I know.” I take his hand. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “You’re going to be a mama.” He strokes the tops of my fingers and I smirk.

  “Eventually. When I’m ready. But I’ll need all the help I can get. So I’m going home. For good this time.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll see.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “So Boston, huh?”

  “I’ll give it a go. For all I know, I’ll hate the East Coast—or they’ll come to their senses and realize I’m not the right guy for the job.”

  He has no clue what his mother’s done for him and part of me wants to tell him. Part of me wants to redeem her in his eyes, but I know it’s not my place. I squeeze his hand. “You’re the right guy, Ross. Even after all these years they still want you. That’s saying something.” I swallow hard. “Do you think you’ll be back?”

  He crooks a finger under my chin and tilts my face to his. “I’d be crazy not to come back.” Then he leans down to kiss me, lingering softly, his fingers twirling the ends of my hair.

  When he pulls away, my heart wrenches and I take a deep breath through my nose, forcing myself not to cry. “I wanted to stay,” I say. “And for you to stay. I wanted…us.”

  “There’s still an us, Blue. There’s always gonna be an us. It just might take a little longer to get there, that’s all.” He kisses me again, hooking his arm around my waist and holding me tight. “We’ve got years ahead of us and shit to do. That’s all this is.”

  I roll my eyes. “Call me a cynic, but I’m starting to think this love crap is a farce. First, Luke and Shannon. Now us. Does anyone ever get to just enjoy it?”

  Ross smiles and kisses my nose. “You don’t have to be a cynic to know love doesn’t conquer all, Blue. It only makes things easier to deal with. Sometimes we just have to do what’s right. Not just for us, but for the people that matter most to us. So I’m going to let you go. You’re letting me go. Not because it’s easy or fair, but because we should both be what we need to be right now, not who we want each other to be. It’s called sacrifice. And I think that’s the best kind of love there is.”

  Epilogue

  Eight Months Later

  Sheila

  Dave was right about those diapers. Which is why I’ve probably been counting on him more than I should to pick up the slack. The house permanently smells like shit, or baby wipes, or spit up. Not to mention, I’ve breathed in so much baby powder my lungs are probably damaged for life.

  But it’s all been worth it. Every second.

  I lean over the crib, sliding my fingers underneath the cooing baby. She’s still so tiny half the time I feel like she’ll break. But I can’t help but hold her. I’m always holding her. Mom says I’ll spoil her that way, but I don’t care.

  I sit in the rocking chair by the window, allowing her to settle in my arms before I begin rocking back and forth and singing her favorite song. I know I can’t sing it like her father, or her uncle. I’ll never be able to make the words come to life the way they do, but I sing it anyway. Whenever I do, her ocean blue eyes light up and it’s almost like she can see right through me. So I keep singing the same words, the same slow and lazy tune over and over again, until she falls back to sleep.

  Love don’t last forever.

  Best friends they part ways.

  Life ain’t worth the living,

  If there ain’t a little bit of pain.

  We all know the earth won’t grow

  Without a little bit of rain.

  So let the storms come in

  Let them do their worst

  When the fire burns

  Let them quench our thirst

  Let them turn our hurt

  Into the thing we need

  To live our lives in a state of peace.

  Of peace…

  Of peace…

  In peace…

  In peace…

  Let me live in peace.

  In peace I’ll rest until the end.

  Let us live in peace.

  In peace we’ll rest till the end of time.

  Mom appears in the doorway, just as I put Mariah down again. “What is that song anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”

  “Luke and Ross wrote it. Years ago. It’s the first thing they sang together.”

  “It’s a beautiful song.” She steps inside the room, joining me at
the crib. When she rests hand on my shoulder, I instantly lean into her. “How is Ross?”

  I shrug a little. “He loves his job. I’m so happy for him.”

  “And what about you? How are you?”

  I turn to look at her, blinking away the sadness. “I…miss him.”

  “I know.” Mom squeezes my shoulder.

  “Have you heard anything about his mom?”

  She drops her arm, a shadow coming over her expression. “Dr. Chambers thinks she should be admitted. Of course she refuses.” Mom sighs. “Because she’s Ellie. Nothing’s ever simple with her.”

  “She was in jail for ten years, Mom. Maybe she just wants to enjoy the freedom a little while longer.”

  “But if she would just try the chemo…” Mom sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to worry you.”

  “Has she told Luke and Ross yet?”

  Mom shakes her head.

  “He’s getting out in two days,” I say. “Luke, I mean. And I promised him—he want’s to see the kids. He doesn’t want it to be a big deal, but he wants to see them. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable not telling you where I was really going—not with them in tow. I’m meeting him at the cemetery.”