by Skye Turner
Cupping his cheek, I lean in and kiss him. His lips are firm and unyielding, but I leave mine on his and brush them back and forth. His lips soften and he kisses me back gently. Smiling against his mouth, I lean back. “Oh, I want it. I want you.” His light eyes search my dark ones. “But, I don’t want to spook you.” His brows furrow again. “Cruz, you are not used to this. Until a few days ago… I’m not certain you ever would have made a move on me. I made the move. I want you. I care about you. So much. I don’t want to freak you out with my feelings, but I also want you to understand I am not going away. You can push me away. You do push me away. Frequently. You are so damn confusing and frustrating.”
He frowns and says, “Hey…”
I put my finger on his lips to silence him. “You are, because for whatever reason, you don’t let people in. I know that your mother and what happened to her have something to do with that. I can’t imagine what you’ve had to deal with from people your entire life. People can suck. They can truly suck and can be mean and hateful.
“I know this. I see some of the darkest things imaginable in my line of work, but I also see some of the most beautiful and amazing.
“I know that you know I have money. I come from money. BUT… you know me. I’m not the name. I’m not the person who will ever judge you. Judge anyone. I don’t do that. And I care about you.
“You… you’re special, Cruz Edwards. You mean something… to me. And you can push… you can try to run… but I’m not letting you.” I smirk at the complexity of the emotions in his beautiful eyes. “You messed up.”
He exclaims, “I messed up?”
I nod. “Yup. You did. You told me you wanted me. You just showed me you want me. You tried to push me away because you were worried you weren’t good enough.” Leaning my forehead against his, I mutter as I look into his eyes, “That shows me you’re good enough. You’ve always been good enough. You messed up. You told me you cared. And I care too, so that means… you’re stuck with me.”
He stares at me and I hold my breath. Groaning, he grabs the back of my head and pulls me the rest of the way into him. He kisses me until my toes curl.
When we stop and come up for air, I take a long deep breath. He’s quiet again.
“You ok?”
He props a pillow behind his back and sits against the headboard. He pulls me against him and I rest my head against his hard chest, listening to the rapid beats of his heart.
His voice rumbles in his chest as he says, “There’s more. To the story.”
Turning my head, I look up at him. “Ok, so tell me. If you want to. I’m here.”
He nods and looks down at me. “Ok.” Taking a tortured breath, he starts, “The man who fathered me is a rapist. I told you that.”
I nod but stay silent.
“He’s been in jail since he was convicted. I’m twenty-five years old. He’s been in jail for that long. He beat and raped my momma and staged it to look like a robbery. She got pregnant and kept me. She raised me all by herself. She doted on me. The baby from a man who assaulted her. It’s always just been the two of us. It wasn’t easy. She was a young black woman and I’m a mixed child who came from a rape, but she’s never held that against me. Even when people were horrible to her, she tried to protect me.
“About a year ago, I got a call from the prison. He was coming up for parole. I was told that he had been a model prisoner for years and had found Jesus and was remorseful for his crimes. They said he’d served his time.
“I didn’t care. I don’t care. I don’t buy it. I’m sorry, but I don’t.
“A little after that, he started contacting me. He’d send letters and every few weeks, he’d call. Now, he’d never, not once, contacted me before. I answered the call the first time. I don’t even know how he got my number. It’s private and unlisted. I hung up when he said who he was and that he wanted to meet me.
“He kept calling. He’d leave messages on my machine and he kept sending the letters asking for me to please meet with him. He claims he wants to meet his son. Only, I’m not his son. He’s not my father. I don’t have a father and I have no desire or intention of meeting him. As far as I care, he’s dead.
“So, he contacted my momma.”
I gasp. He contacted Cruz’s mother?! How is that even possible? Why is that allowed?!
He laughs. It’s harsh. “Yeah, can you believe that!? He called my momma and asked her to please talk to me and get me to meet with him. He called the woman he RAPED because I don’t want to have anything to do with him.
“I told her no. I’m not doing that. I don’t want to and I’m scared that if I do, I’ll fly into a rage.”
I take his hand and hold it tightly. He looks at me and his eyes are full of pain.
“He hurt my momma, Tif. She endured so much shit because of what he did and then because of me. It’s his fault. I don’t want to meet him. I don’t want to know him. I don’t get why he wants to know me. I don’t buy it.”
I can completely understand why Cruz doesn’t want to meet the man who fathered him. My heart is aching for him and his mother. I wish I knew what to say or what to do. Is there anything I can do?!
But the thing I’m really not understanding is if he thinks this new information is supposed to change anything. I love him. He doesn’t know that, but I love him.
I’m going to be here. I love him and I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for him and all of his demons. They don’t matter to me…
Chapter Fifteen
Cruz
I’ve just spilled everything. I told Tifanie everything. She’s so quiet. Is she going to walk out? Is she going to say anything?
I’ve never told anyone about that stuff. Just Dade. The guys know about what happened to my momma and Clove knows because we grew up together and she was always a friend, but I’ve never shared that information with anyone other than them.
This is a first… I wish she’d say something.
Eventually, she lifts her head and stares at me. She smiles. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I am so glad that you did.”
Is that it?
She presses a soft kiss against the cross tattoo on my bicep. That tattoo is for my momma for everything she’s done for me, for her unwavering faith in both me and the higher power she’s taught me about my entire life. My heart swells as I feel the light pressure from Tifanie’s lips against the one thing that reminds me every single day of the sacrifices my amazing momma made for me.
Laying her head back against my chest, she murmurs quietly, “I can understand your hesitation about his intentions. I happen to agree with you. If what you say is true, then he seems to be pushing. If he genuinely wanted to get to know you, then I would think he would respect your boundaries and the fact that you are not reciprocating. I agree that it seems as if he has ulterior motives.”
That is such a relief to hear someone else agree with me. My arm snakes around Tif and I flip her onto her back. She looks up at me with surprise. Leaning down, I kiss her as my hands trail over her thighs and start to push up my shirt.
She grins. “Again, Superman?”
I can’t help it. I grin back. I feel suddenly lighter. “I do have something that feels like steel right now.”
She laughs and her legs wraps around my waist.
For the next hour, we lose the ability to speak and the only sounds in the room are breathy moans and uttered shouts before we eventually fall asleep entwined in each other’s arms.
An annoying sound wakes me from my relaxed slumber. What is that weight on my legs?
Opening my eyes, I see the wavy brown hair on the pillow next to me. Sleepy hazel eyes are watching me and the weight on my legs is removed. The sound comes again. Tifanie groans and stretches. “Ugh, I think that’s my phone. What time is it?”
Rolling, I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Is that the time?! “Is it really 10AM?”
She mutters, “Shit!” and hops out of bed to search through the clo
thes on the floor. She comes up with her phone and grimaces as she checks the caller ID. “Hey. Sorry, I’m running late… Yes, I’ll come grab you… No, I’m not at home… Yes, I’m at Cruz’s… Shut the hell up. Don’t be an ass… Yeah, I’ll call you when I’m on my way… Shut up!”
Her cheeks are pink as she hangs up. Who the hell was on the phone?!
Looking at me over her shoulder, she says sheepishly, “Ty.” My brow arches. Why is she going to go get Ty on her day off? What the hell?
She looks at me for a minute and then slyly says, “What are you doing today?”
What am I doing today? What the hell? “Nothing. No plans. Why?”
She purses her lips and stares at me. She looks nervous. She walks across the bedroom and plops onto the bed. “Well… Ty and I are heading to Chateau du Bellaforte.”
My eyes widen and my mouth drops open. “Ok…”
She clutches her chest and says really fast, “So, do you want to come with me? I know it’s crazy and we aren’t like together or anything, but Ty is coming too, as a buffer because my family sucks for the most part. They throw rich men that my father thinks are suitable husbands at me left and right. No matter how many I blow off, there are always more. But, it’s my grandma’s birthday and I do love my grandma. She’s the best. So, do you want to come?”
What did she say? She wants me to go with her to a family event? At her family’s mansion?! With her family? That girl from the elevator? As what? She just said we’re not together, so what the hell?
I mutter, “What? Why do you want me to come?”
She looks at me through her lashes and bites her lip. I’ve never seen her nervous before. “Well, because I care about you. You don’t have to. I know you’re not like my… beau, but well, if you don’t have plans… You could come.”
“Sometimes, you speak very… rich. Did you know that? Do you want me to come?”
She frowns and nods as she chews on her lip. “Ugh and I do. I would love it if you’d come.”
This is it. The moment of truth. What am I going to do? Am I going to take a chance with her or am I going to do what I always do and push people away?!
The truth is, I’m scared to death. Tifanie and her family are rich and powerful. I’m rich too, but it’s not the same thing. I took a chance last night and she and I ARE in a relationship. We’ve been in a relationship. Yet, now I’m wanting to take the chance. I want to be in a relationship… with her. She fights for me… She pushes me… She makes me better. I want to take a chance for her, but more importantly, I think it’s time I take a chance for me.
I make the choice. This is the start of a whole new chapter. Rubbing my jaw, I watch her watch me. Finally, I nod. “Ok, then I’ll go.”
Her shock is palpable. “You will?”
Chuckling, I pull her to me. She falls across the bed. “I will.” Kissing her softly, I pull back and look at her. “Oh, and Tifanie?”
She squints at me and asks quietly, “Yeah?”
I mutter against her mouth, “I am your beau.”
She jerks back and almost tumbles to the floor. I grab her arm at the last second and laugh at the look of complete and utter shock on her face.
“Careful, there. You almost fell off the bed.”
Nodding, a smile lights up her face. “You’re my boyfriend?”
Standing up, I pull her with me and set her on her feet. “I guess so. Since I can’t get rid of you and all… So, what am I wearing to this party?”
Her smile warms the whole room and my chest feels full.
She helps me find clothes and we shower together before we head to her house so she can get ready and change her clothes.
About an hour later, we’re heading down Highway 1 in West Baton Rouge, on the other side of the river, where Chateau du Bellaforte is located and has been for the past two hundred years.
We stopped by Ty’s on the way out and picked him up. To say he was surprised to see me in the car is a bit of an understatement. His mouth hit the ground before he slapped me on the back and chuckled as he climbed into the back seat.
Tifanie and Ty are giving me a lesson on her family on the drive. We’re driving down the road and I’m looking at all of the sugar cane fields. I’m not used to seeing so much cane. I didn’t think there were still fields this large anymore. We pass an old sugar mill and the smoke-stack looks to be freshly painted. Cinclaire is in bold black letters against the pristine white. It’s so pretty out here.
Eventually, we turn off the highway and cross the train tracks; we’re on a private road that is made of dirt and limestone. I’m just starting to wonder where exactly we’re going and if this road actually leads anywhere when tall, majestic gates come into view.
My head is spinning with all of the information I’ve been given on the drive over. I’ll never in a million years remember this shit.
Ty sees me messing with the collar of my button up shirt and laughs. He mutters, “Just remember, they’re all snobs and won’t like you anyway, no matter what you do, so as snobby as they are, act twice as indifferent.”
My eyes fly to him and Tif softly smiles. “He’s right.” She reaches for my hand across the console and squeezes. “Seriously, don’t even worry about them. They won’t like you. They don’t like me. They like puppets with money. If you’re not like them, they don’t like you. It’s really that simple and ridiculous. I don’t care. So, you don’t care either. Screw them.” Bringing my hand to her mouth, she kisses my fingers and laughs. “Seriously, fuck them. They’re all snobby idiots.”
Ty claps my shoulder. “Honestly, man. Unless you are exactly like them, they’ll look down at you. Just don’t let them get to you. Or be like me and do everything you can to piss them off. I love that shit. They hate me anyway, so why not?!”
I look at him as Tif drives down a road between trees through ornate gardens that seem to stretch a mile in either direction. “You’ve been to a lot of these with her?”
He grins. “Quite a few. I never send her to these by herself. They throw rich tools at her left and right. I’ve always been the buffer. Well, for the past few years anyway.” He laughs. “Now that’s your job. I’m just going to hang out with Ms. Clarabelle and soak it in as she pisses people off.” My look of surprise makes him laugh even more. “Seriously, she’s awesome. Tif takes after her, which is awesome! She doesn’t filter at all and she’s old and rich so no one dares say anything to her. It’s greatness. You never know what’s going to come out of her mouth.”
He whistles and I turn. He mutters, “Check that shit out.”
My mouth hangs open. I blink, but nope it’s still there. Holy shit. That’s a house?!
I’ve never seen a house like that in my life. I’ve been to plantations before, but holy shit. Tifanie lived here?! Her family lives here? The grounds are insane, but the house takes the cake. It’s huge and breathtaking. It screams money. I’m immediately ready to tell her to turn the car around.
The house is a crisp white with lots of white columns set under towering oak trees. I don’t even know how many sets of French doors and balconies I’m looking at. The porch area in front of the house is the size of my entire house and my house is not small.
Jeez…
Tifanie stops to the side of the driveway and pulls under some trees. She grimaces as she turns the car off and says, “Ok, y’all ready?” She squeezes my hand one more time. I turn away from the house and look at her with apprehension. She can read the distress in my face. “It’s just a house, Cruz. It’s gorgeous though, huh?!”
She thinks this is “just a house?!”
I nod. What else can I do?! I’m here now, too late to leave. The porch is packed with people standing around drinking out of what looks like crystal glasses and flutes. The front door opens and even more people come out of the house. Everyone appears to be staring at the car. The men are all in dress coats and slacks and the ladies are in dresses. Are they wearing hats?!
What the hell di
d I get myself into?
Tifanie smiles reassuringly at me and opens the door. As she stands up, she leans back in and says, “Welcome to hell. Otherwise known as a Saturday with the Bellafortes.”
Ty laughs heartily and calls out, “Where’s the alcohol?”
Taking a deep breath and wondering what in the ever loving hell I’m even doing here, I get out. Under the unblinking stares of everyone on the porch, the three of us head to the house.
Tifanie stops. I stop with her and she places her hand on my face. She leans up and brushes her mouth against my lips gently. Then, linking her fingers with mine, she pulls my reluctant body toward the house and says with a forced smile, “Ready to be judged?”
Chapter Sixteen
Tifanie
As we get out of the car, the family and guests pile onto the porch and I can clearly see them staring, gesturing, and whispering. I can’t imagine what they’re saying about Cruz. It automatically pisses me off and I kick myself for subjecting him to the hell he’s about to encounter.
What was I thinking asking him to accompany me here? These people are hateful and shallow and stuck up.
Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this to him. This is my family. I HAVE to be around them occasionally, but he doesn’t, and I brought him straight into the lion’s den… like fresh meat on a platter… Son of a bitch.
Ty just strolls up the steps and heads straight to Grandma Clarabelle in her chair. He kisses her cheek and she reaches up to hug him as he says something that makes heads turn sharply toward them. Then, they both laugh and glance at Cruz and me. Ty winks and snags a glass of what looks like bourbon from a passing tray. He downs the entire thing and signals for the waiter to hand him another one.
Good thinking, Ty. I want one, too. Or ten.
Cruz mutters under his breath, “Everyone is staring at me. And your sister is glaring.”
I look to the right of the porch. Yup, AnnaBeth is indeed glaring and the scowl on her face is almost comical. The perfectly pressed idiot next to her is glaring too and I don’t miss the clenching of his hands at his sides.
