by Dara Girard
Jessie laughed then gave her a little squeeze before releasing her. “You wouldn’t have been Syrah if you’d thought otherwise.”
They sat in the living room and Syrah showed Jessie her electronic game. Jessie told her about her job at the jewelers and Syrah shared about starting at a new school. Suddenly, Syrah jumped to her feet. “Let me go get Dad for you.”
Jessie stood as well. “Actually, I think I should leave.” She reached into her pocket. “But I want you to give him something for me.” She stopped when she heard keys inserted in the doorknob. “Who else has a key to the house?”
Syrah shrugged. “I don’t know.”
They went into the foyer and watched the door swing open. Eddie walked inside.
Chapter 32
Shock left them paralyzed. Jessie watched Eddie stroll into the room as though she were observing an experiment volunteer behind a one way mirror. He was an attractive young man with teasing dark eyes, firm features and a confident set in his shoulders. His tailored clothes and arrogant gait gave no hint to the demon he was fighting or the anger he could not control. For a moment, Jessie believed the lie he projected, but it was the slight trembling of his hands as he put his extra key in his pocket, that alluded to the truth. Dion growled, breaking the silence.
“You’d better keep that dog away from me,” Eddie said.
Syrah grabbed the dog by its collar. “Come on, Dion.” At first Dion refused to move then he allowed her to lead him into another room and close the door. When Syrah returned, Eddie raised a brow. “It’s time to come home, Ace.”
She didn’t move, a look of terror clear in her gaze. Jessie stepped in front of her. “She is home.”
Eddie shrugged, nonchalant. “I see you’ve gotten attached to her. You can visit some time. Ace, go get your things.”
She still didn’t move.
His tone hardened. “Did you hear me?”
Syrah’s breathing increased, she clenched her fists and she looked up at Jessie not knowing what to do. Jessie sent her a gentle smile. “It’s okay.”
“Ace.”
“She’s not going with you.”
“Yes, she is.” He shoved Jessie aside and grabbed Syrah’s arm. “I said go pack your things. Now do it.” He tossed her in the direction of the stairs. She stumbled and caught herself on the railing.
“She’s not going anywhere with you.”
Eddie spun around his eyes a piercing black. “Where’s Kenneth?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He smiled. “I’m asking because you really don’t want to upset me,” he said with chilling politeness.
“Why should I be afraid of a coward that hits children?”
“What has she been telling you? She likes to tell lies.”
“I always wondered what my brother saw in the Clifton sisters. You’re the one who thinks she’s a man, right?”
“I’m not going to fight you.”
“Good then you’ll stay out of my way.” He turned to Syrah. “I’m not going to ask you again. Go pack.”
“No,” Syrah said in a small voice.
Eddie chuckled. “You always were stubborn.” He looked at Jessie. “You should have seen her as a baby.”
“Why don’t you go home?”
He nodded. “I will once Ace packs.” He looped his thumbs through his belt loops. “I’m through discussing this.”
“Me too,” Jessie said softly. “We both know Kenneth will make a better father than you ever could.”
He grabbed the front of her shirt and shoved her against the wall with such force she saw stars. Fear—vivid and dark—coursed through her. “Let me go,” she said.
Eddie flashed a bitter smile. “Do you honestly think she’s better off here? Do you think Kenneth hasn’t got a temper too? He just hides it better.” He shoved her head back with his forefinger. “You’re not taking Syrah from me. And never compare me to Kenneth again.” He swallowed. “I could never live up to Kenneth’s perfect image. No one could.”
“You’re pathetic,” Jessie said, disgusted. “You took the path already chosen because you were too afraid to fail at something else. I gave you my scholarship, you had a chance and you blew it. You ruined your life because you were too afraid of failure to do anything. Well congratulations, because you didn’t fail. You succeeded in becoming as useless as your father and worthless as a man.”
Eddie tightened his grip until Jessie could barely breathe. She clawed at his hand, dots forming in her eyes.
Syrah rushed up to him. She tugged on his jacket. “Let her go, Dad. I’ll come with you. Please, please.”
“Tell her how much you love me,” he said in a calm even tone.
“I love you so much Dad, I really do,” she said her face wet with tears.
“Tell her how much you want to be with me.”
“I want to always be with you. Forever. Please let her go.”
Eddie smiled. “Did you hear that?”
Jessie nodded. Then she spat in his face. His smile fell. Syrah saw the look on his face—she’d seen it before—and raced upstairs.
She ran down the hall and burst into Kenneth’s room. He jumped to his feet when he saw her and turned off the music. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s downstairs and he’s going to kill her.”
Kenneth knelt in front of her and grabbed her arms. “What are you talking about? Are you watching a scary movie?”
“No. It’s Aunt Jessie. Dad’s got her because of me. You’ve gotta help her.”
A chill went through him. “Eddie’s here?”
She didn’t get a chance to reply. The sound of shattering glass filled the air. He fled down the hall like a rabid dog.
“They’re in the living room,” Syrah said.
Freda met him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Where is he?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry Mr. Preston.”
“Where is he?”
Her voice shook when she spoke. “I called the police.”
“Where. Is. He?”
She took a step back. “He’s in the kitchen...with her.”
He gave a terse nod and walked past her. “Take Ace with you into your room and lock the door.”
She nodded then took Syrah’s hand and left. Kenneth stormed into the kitchen with gathering fury, but nothing prepared him for the scene he saw. He’d seen the same scene once years ago. He’d walked into the kitchen late one night and found his mother on the floor with her blouse ripped open, while his father saddled her waist and slapped her until she was as limp as a rag doll. He’d wanted to grab a knife and kill him. He grabbed that knife now.
When Jessie saw him, she widened her eyes. “Kenneth, don’t!”
Eddie spun around then leaped to his feet. He stumbled back when he saw the rage in his brother’s eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Kenneth replied softly, taking a menacing step closer.
“Shit, Kenny. Put the knife down.”
He shoved Eddie against the wall then lifted him off the ground.
“Don’t Kenneth,” Jessie said, trying to reach him through his anger.
He couldn’t hear her. He was a little boy with the strength of a man, finally holding his father captive so that he could instill the pain and fear that had tormented him for years. He tightened his grip. “You knew I could forgive anything but that.”
“I can’t breath,” Eddie squeaked.
“Don’t worry,” he growled. “It won’t matter in a minute.”
“No,” Jessie said, seizing his arm, feeling the power. “This isn’t the answer. Stop it.”
“He shouldn’t have hit you,” he said in a distant tone that made her shiver.
“But I’m okay. Look at me. I’m okay.”
He slowly turned to her. No, she wasn’t okay. Half of her face was swollen and blood seep from a cut on her mouth and above her eye. But it was the look in her eyes that stopped him. Right now she was
n’t afraid of Eddie. She was afraid of him. He’d become the monster. A fierce pain pierced through him that he’d finally revealed the side he’d never wanted anyone to see.
He looked away and pushed Eddie towards the door. “Let’s go. Ms. Rose called the police and we need to get our story straight.” He spoke to Jessie though he couldn’t look at her. “Stay here,” he said then followed Eddie out the door.
Jessie slid to the ground with her back against the wall and drew her knees up to her chest. Every part of her ached, but she fought back tears of relief. Syrah was safe; she’d succeeded. It was a victory she would never forget. Minutes later Kenneth entered the room. She stared up at him as he stood in the doorway soaking wet with grass and mud smearing his clothes. The tears she had fought so hard against now fell from her eyes.
He knelt down in front of her and tilted her chin with his forefinger. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when she noticed the first aid kit in his hand.
“You’re getting good at patching me up,” she said desperate to fill the silence. He didn’t reply. He looked composed—too composed as though what had just happened was an unfortunate diversion. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay and he knew it too, but she didn’t wish to point that out to him. “Where’s Eddie? Did the police take him?”
Kenneth brushed away her tears then gently patched the cut above her eye. “In a way,” he said vaguely.
“What do you mean ‘in a way’?”
He applied antiseptic on a cotton ball. “They called for an ambulance.”
“So he decided to check himself into a program or something?”
Kenneth glanced at her then the cotton ball. “No...um...I lost my temper.”
“You didn’t.”
“I’m afraid I did. I accidentally broke his right hand, maybe his arm too.” He dabbed the scratch marks on her cheek, his voice low. “He hit you with his right hand, didn’t he? It’d be a shame if I accidentally broke the wrong hand.”
She nodded woodenly.
He tossed the soiled cotton ball aside then nodded too. Once he finished cleaning her wounds, he sat down beside her, drawing his knees up and rested his arms on them. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I don’t know why you came back, Jasmine. My life is not the same now.” He sat up and looked at her. “You don’t know what it’s like. Although I still have my position at the company, I’m not as admired as before.” He rubbed his chin, trying to make light of the situation though it still hurt. “You could say my value has dropped.” He shrugged. “My value has always been an illusion.” He hung his head then said in a low voice. “I scared you, didn’t I?”
“No.”
His head snapped up. “Don’t lie to me, Jas. I saw the look on your face.” He briefly shut his eyes. “I’ll never forget it. You shouldn’t have come back.”
Jessie wrapped her arms around herself, but she couldn’t stop from trembling. “I had to,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Why?”
“Because I love you Kenny Chevalier.”
For a moment he didn’t breathe, he only stared at her. He never thought he’d hear those words. She loved him. Him. Kenny Chevalier. Even though right now he was coarse, dirty and wet. She still loved him. It was a joy so painful he couldn’t believe it was real.
“Before I was so terrified that I would fail you.” She continued quickly before he could speak. “You had suffered so much and I didn’t want to be another disappointment. I thought you had settled for me because you felt I was all you could get. No, don’t say anything. I know it’s not true, it was just my excuse—my mask. I was focusing too much on myself. But my love for you is unconditional. You don’t have to do or be anything it is always there.” She dug inside her pocket and pulled out a velvet pouch. “BJ wanted me to show you this. Hold out your hand.” He did and she spilled the contents of the pouch into his palm.
Kenneth’s eyes widened at the beauty facing him. “The pendant. You got it back.”
Jessie sighed. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain it another time. I just wanted you to hold it. I wanted you to be part of its history.”
He didn’t ask why because he didn’t care. He held the pendant with reverence and ran his fingers over the chain and the sapphire center. He understood her loyalty to it and her father, wishing for a moment that loyalty could be his. Then he glanced up and his heart stopped. She wasn’t looking at the pendant, she was looking at him. In her eyes he saw love. He mattered. Her loyalty was his.
The rush of emotion he felt was too much—tightening his throat, moistening his eyes. He clasped his hands and rested his forehead against them, the pendant dangling from his fingers. It whispered to him, drowning his father’s voice and his mother’s bitterness and replacing them with a new mantra. He looked at her and the mask shattered, there would never be that barrier between them. There were no more demons to chase away. He held out the pendant and watched as Jessie placed it back in its pouch. She’d seen a side of him he’d been afraid to let anyone see. She knew about his scars, his past and his flaws and yet she still loved him. Just as how though bruised, red eyed, and trembling, he thought she looked beautiful.
“We’ll have a big wedding,” he said. “BJ will walk you down the aisle and you’ll have a beautiful gown and lots of family and friends around us.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not doing a big wedding. I want something nice and quiet.”
“We’ll have a symphony.”
“No we won’t.”
He stared out in the distance lost in thought. “We can hire the Garden catering company and rent an old mansion with a large garden.”
She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “I’m not doing a big wedding.”
He smiled, one of the special smiles he reserved just for her. “Is that a bet?”
* * *
They had the biggest wedding Randall County had ever seen. It happened on a day when the sun was merciful, the sky clear and everything that could be bright and lovely was. The mansion where the ceremony and reception was held welcomed and echoed the shouts of cheer and good wishes, reverberated with the love of family and friends and also, in rare quiet moments, offered forgiveness to those who could not yet forgive.
And as the evening settled with a gentle darkness, it was said later that the stars had never looked so bright.
Epilogue
Late 1800s
Markus Jahne read the note left where his pendant should have been. I stole your heart, it said written in Sonya’s bold script. He shook his head, unable to stop a smile. He glanced out at the cool Jamaican morning inhaling the scent of the sea and the ackee and saltfish waiting on his table.
He could feel no anger towards the woman who’d left him while he slept. He would always remember her and how she looked at twilight.
He replaced the floorboard and stood. She was right. She’d stolen his heart. He’d left it there for her to find.
The End
Excerpt from
Table for Two
by
Dara Girard
© 2003, 2011 by Dara Girard
Chapter 1
Cassie Graham knew the moment of impact would be painful. She was certain it was impossible to have more than six feet of well-muscled male fall on top of her without suffering a few lasting bruises. She landed with an undignified ooof! on the grassy turf of the park with any belief that grass was softer than concrete forgotten. The impact knocked off her glasses, turning her world into an impressionist painting of hazy trees and buildings. She briefly wondered if all the nineteenth-century masters were just myopic.
"Are you all right?" the man asked. His voice was unusually kind, which it had no right to be since she was the cause of the collision. His concern made her feel even more foolish.
Cassie glanced up and two meltingly rich golden brown eyes came into focus, gazing at her like a medieval charm that had the a
bility to put someone under a spell. She was not sure if it was the expression or the color that brought heat to her face, but something made her cheeks grow very warm. She opened her mouth to say that she was fine and assure the poor man that there was no reason to worry, but words caught in her throat when she glanced down and realized that he was half naked. He was shirtless, proudly displaying his Brazilian nut skin in the summer heat. He hovered above her like a large cat, his solid arms on either side, trapping her as if she were some unfortunate prey. She knew that she was in no danger, but the image of his powerful arms and torso made her wary.
"Is she okay?" an impatient male voice asked.
Another spoke up. "Where did she come from?"
Cassie transferred her gaze to stare at the blurry faces of a small semicircle of mostly half-naked males. She briefly shut her eyes and groaned. Could the day become any more humiliating?
"I'll handle this," the man above her said. He tossed the football to one of the men. "Start without me."
The first man stared at the ball and began to protest. "But—"
"I said start without me," he repeated, his voice firm.
The group of men mumbled among themselves and left. Cassie kept still. Perhaps if he thought she was hurt he would not be angry.
She heard the man softly swear as he moved off her with the agility of the athlete he obviously was. Cassie breathed a sigh of relief now that she was free of him and his speculative gaze. Suddenly, his hands were all over her, expertly searching for broken bones or torn flesh. She gasped when his sensitive fingers slid down her side like a series of butterflies. She sat up, grabbed his hands, and bit back a giggle. "Stop that! I'm very ticklish."
He smiled, flashing brilliant white teeth. "That's good to know." He had a pleasantly deep voice like marmalade on toast. She also recognized a soft musical lilt that suggested an island birth. It reminded her of her extended family back home in Jamaica.
