by A. C. Arthur
“I don’t understand why you’re warning me about him,” Amber said. Why hadn’t her aunt showed up to warn her about Billy instead? It would have saved Amber a lot of time and heartache.
“Because I know him and that family like nobody else. I know what they’re capable of, the lying bastards. They think they own this world and they treat people like shit. You’re my blood, Amber. You’re thick, but you’re pretty. You can find someone else if you lose some weight. I told Elder that Zelda was feeding you girls too much,” Roslyn continued.
Amber was too alarmed to be offended by anything her aunt was saying. She turned on her phone and was just about to dial her father’s number when Roslyn quickly crossed the room and grabbed her by the wrist.
“Listen to me girlie,” Roslyn said, her face just inches away from Amber’s.
“You stay away from those Donovans, you hear me? Don’t give them the time of day or they’ll be the death of you. They’ll break you and crush you and then you’ll wish you had listened to me.”
“Let go of me,” Amber said slowly.
When her aunt simply blinked at her looking as if she were trying to figure out where the hell she was and what had just happened, Amber said it again. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”
Roslyn dropped Amber’s arm as if it were a burning branch and took two hurried steps back.
“I don’t belong here,” Roslyn said then. “I have to get out of here. I’ve got other things to do. I have to call Jaydon.”
Amber didn’t know who Jaydon was and she didn’t care. She wanted her aunt out of her house as quickly as possible.
She dialed her father’s number and when his groggy voice answered she said, “Aunt Roslyn’s here.”
#
Brandon arrived in Chicago at three o’clock on Sunday afternoon. He picked up the rental car and drove straight to Amber’s address. There was no one there. That left one other address to visit.
After finding the names yesterday morning Brandon had immediately called Devlin.
“Why didn’t you know that she had relatives?” he’d asked the man when he’d walked into his living room an hour later.
Devlin always seemed to be dressed in black, from his boots to the ban around his wrist, black. His dark complexion, bald head and perpetual scowl gave him a deadly look, which only added to the whole Navy SEAL persona. While Brandon hadn’t seen Devlin or his cousin Trent in action since they’d been in Sansonique a year ago, he knew these two were trained lethal killers. Still, he was pissed the hell off at a trained lethal killer right now.
“Roslyn Ausby has a brother and her brother has children,” Brandon continued.
“And what does that mean to us?” Devlin asked tightly.
“It means we should have known! You and Trent said you’d looked into this woman’s background, that you knew everything about her.”
“We knew everything about her and her son. As we considered her to be working alone, tracing her family tree wasn’t a priority.”
“Well, it should have been!” Brandon yelled and then turned his back to Devlin.
He was spitting mad, so much so that his hands shook. The thought that Amber had been bullshitting him all along was infuriating and painful as hell.
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on and we’ll see what needs to be done about it.”
“Oh, I know what I’m going to do about it,” Brandon told him. “I’m going to Chicago.”
Devlin nodded. “Okay. That’s your plan. Tell me what the issue is and I’ll tell you if it’s a good one.”
Brandon didn’t really want to tell him. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been duped by a woman with a pretty smile and a soft body. It was so cliché and so much like his father he wanted to yell or laugh out loud, or strike someone. He couldn’t figure out which one. But he did tell Devlin. He told the man everything and then he reiterated that he was going to Chicago.
“You should,” Devlin told him. “They won’t expect you to show up or to know about what’s been going on. I’ll get someone to go with you.”
Brandon immediately shook his head. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Devlin nodded. “But you’re getting one. I have to sit on Dane until this DNA thing is over, but I’ve got someone good who can go with you. He just came into town from the Middle East two nights ago.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Brandon insisted even though he knew Devlin was right to want a guard with him.
There was no way to know what to expect when Brandon walked into that house in Chicago. All he knew for certain was that he had no intention of letting Amber or Roslyn get away with this. None at all.
“She showed up at the same time of the bombing,” he said. “Was her aunt at the house trying to kill my father while she acted as a decoy to get me away?”
Devlin didn’t answer, but seemed to be reading something on his phone.
“I let her cook for my father. Dammit! She could have poisoned him,” Brandon continued. She could have stabbed him in the back while he’d been sleeping right beside her. That part he’d kept to himself.
“Calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions. Just get to Chicago and question them. I just sent a text to Len. He’ll be ready when you are to head to Chicago,” Devlin told him. “In the meantime, I’ll get started on looking into the family’s background and I’ll let Trent know what’s going on.”
Brandon sighed heavily that pain that had taken residence in the center of his chest since the moment he’d seen her name—her real name—on that screen, magnifying with each breath he took.
Now, he was in Chicago, moments away from confronting her. He and Len, the six foot four walking battering ram that Devlin had assigned to him, had just pulled up in front of the older Ausby’s home and Brandon cut the engine.
“I’ll go in alone,” he told Len.
“That might not be a good idea,” the man with the cool green eyes and close cut brown hair answered.
Brandon knew Len had been hired to do a job, one that he obviously took very seriously. Brandon also knew that his family was paying Len’s salary for said job. So, at the end of the day, Len would do what Brandon directed.
“They don’t know I’m coming so there’s no way they’ll be armed and waiting,” Brandon said. At least he was hoping they wouldn’t be armed and waiting.
“Roslyn may be in there. Devlin’s report says that Dane hasn’t been in contact with her in about three weeks now,” Len pressed.
“I don’t want you barging in there with me scaring them to death before I can get my answers. For all I know, Amber may have been involved with her aunt on her own and the others don’t even know. I just think it’ll be better this way,” he told Len.
“I’m coming to the door with you and then I’m going to check out the perimeter. I’ll be seconds away if you need me,” the guard said with sort of the same constant frown that Devlin wore.
“Fine,” he replied and then stepped out of the car.
Brandon knocked on the door briskly and presumed it was answered so quickly because they’d heard him drive up and park in their driveway.
“My name is Brandon Donovan. I’m here to see Elder Ausby,” he said to the man who answered the door and did not look to be not much older than him.
“You don’t belong here,” the man replied and Brandon was instantly pissed off.
“I do if you’re involved in all the crap that’s been going on with my family,” he said.
“Your family, your fault,” the guy replied.
Brandon stepped to him without another thought, getting right in this guy’s face. “If that’s the case then you’re equally responsible for the shit your family’s been doing as well.”
“Stop it,” she said.
Brandon heard her voice before he could even see her. When she pulled on the guy’s arm, separating them, Brandon looked into her familiar face. No, he thought sorrowfully, it wasn’t familiar at all. He had obviously nev
er really known her or what she was capable of.
“Amber,” he said her name because he couldn’t resist, and the pain in his chest increased.
“What are you doing here Brandon?”
“Why did you tell me your name was Amber McNair?”
Another man appeared before Amber could answer. “Come inside. The neighbors don’t need to know our business.”
He was older by evidence of the gray curls cut close to his head. His steely gaze that matched the first guy Brandon had approached, said they were all related. Brandon moved inside of the house, looking back to see that Len had been standing close by, his hand tucked into the inside of his jacket the entire time. With a nod he told Len he would be alright and he closed the door behind him. They walked through a neat and homey living space, with family photos on the walls and thick rugs on the floor. It seemed quiet in the space, until they entered a back den where more people were seated.
These were her sisters Brandon immediately thought of the three similarly sized women with faces almost as pretty as Amber’s. The older woman, again he could tell by the thick gray hair that was tightly curled at her shoulders, watched him closely after pushing her glasses up on her nose. There was another guy, tall and lanky, who sat on the arm of the couch and then there was Amber, again. She’d come into the room and had immediately gone to stand near the older woman. Amber wore black and white pants and a long turquoise shirt, flat black shoes on her feet. Her hair was in a ponytail and Brandon thought she looked like a high school girl, all fresh and innocent. But he knew that wasn’t quite true.
“This is Brandon Donovan,” the older man said.
“So it is,” one of the women sitting on the couch remarked in a hushed tone.
“I want to know about Roslyn Ausby,” Brandon stated. “Where is she?”
“Roslyn is my younger sister,” the older man spoke. “I’m Elder and this is my wife Zelda. These are my sons Jazz and Freddie. My daughters Rita, Delta and Fiona. You already know Amber.”
Brandon couldn’t help but ask, “Do I?”
Amber arched a brow in question at him.
“The woman I met said her name was Amber McNair,” he continued.
“McNair is my professional name. Since I knew I would be traveling the world, my face splashed all over magazines and billboards, I wanted to keep some separation between my personal life and my professional one,” she answered.
“Why didn’t you tell me that in the beginning?”
“You didn’t ask,” she snapped back.
“You didn’t want to tell me because you were working with your aunt all along. You were helping her to get close to us. You knew she was going to bomb my father’s house,” he said vehemently.
“I did not,” Amber told him while shaking her head. “I didn’t know any of that.”
“Liar!” he shouted.
“Now just wait one minute young man,” Elder said about two seconds after Jazz and Freddie had stood, most likely ready to rush Brandon for yelling at their sister.
“You will not come into my house and disrespect my daughter. I don’t give a damn how much money you have,” Elder finished. “Now, I know that Roslyn’s got history with your family, so I’m willing to talk about this like adults. But you and your family’s money don’t mean crap to me in my house.”
Brandon grit his teeth, holding tight to the rest of his temper.
“Tell me where she is,” he said.
Elder shook his head. “I don’t know where she is.”
“She’s your sister,” Brandon countered.
“And she’s been diagnosed with a personality disorder all her adult life,” Elder replied.
When Brandon heard those words he thought he’d misunderstood.
“What did you just say?”
Elder frowned. “When we were little my parents noticed things about Roslyn, things that just didn’t seem right. Her rages and the way she didn’t seem to hear or accept any types of discipline or responsibility for what she may have done.”
“So she was a bad child,” Brandon stated. “They have a specific label for that now?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Amber said and it was Brandon’s turn to frown.
“That’s what I thought at first,” Elder continued. “But Roslyn was different than any other disobedient child. Disobedient children can normally be corrected through punishments or even spankings. Not Roslyn. Whatever she did, whatever punishment my parents dished out, didn’t stop Roslyn from doing the same thing again and most times to an even more dangerous extreme. She never talked about what she’d done or apologized, just went on to do something else. Finally, when Roslyn was fourteen my father told my mother that she either had to get Roslyn some help or they would have to put Roslyn away. Mom opted to find help. It came in the form of therapy because medications that are normally used to treat some mental illnesses were only likely to further enrage Roslyn’s particular condition. The therapy worked for a while and life was good. Then my parents died when Roslyn was seventeen. She refused any more treatment after that. She graduated from high school and went off to college, where she met your uncle, Henry Donovan.”
Brandon’s head was thudding with all this information, all these pieces that seemed to be fitting perfectly together now. He continued to scowl, his hands fisting at his sides.
“Roslyn loved that man. She called me every week talking about how handsome he was and how rich he was and that he had promised to marry and take care of her. He was going to love her forever, she said over and over again.” Elder sighed heavily, a pained expression coming over his face.
“I loved my sister, I truly did, but I had to wonder what type of man would fall in love with a woman like her. I’d heard of the Donovans while I was in college. I went to Duke on a basketball scholarship. Gabriel Donovan, your cousin, I believe, he went to Duke as well.”
Brandon nodded. Gabriel was Aaron Donovan’s only son. Aaron Donovan was one of his grandfather’s brothers who had died ten years ago from an aneurism.
“All the women loved Gabe. They loved how he looked, how stylishly he dressed and how much money his family had. I watched them falling and tripping over themselves to get Gabe’s attention and then I watched them wanting to tear each other’s eyes out in jealously when he preferred one over the other.” Elder shook his head then.
“It was a painful thought to think that my sister could be somewhere acting this same way over another man in this family. I tried to tell her to slow down, to wait and see how things panned out after they finished school, but she wouldn’t listen. She was deliriously happy and I really wanted her to stay that way. I just knew that she wouldn’t.”
“My uncle broke up with her just before graduation,” Brandon said, knowing this part of the story all too well.
“She was twenty years old, untreated and all alone, or so she thought,” Elder told him. “She lost it. I knew when I saw her and she couldn’t talk about anything else but becoming a Donovan one day and the wedding she was going to have, the babies, and the house, I knew she was taking a turn for the worse. This was all after she’d written me a letter telling me that Henry had ended their relationship. I tried to remind her of that letter but she just brushed it off, telling me I didn’t know what I was talking about. That’s how she is, you know. She can only focus on what she wants, what she needs. Nothing or nobody else matters. It can’t. Her mind is just not made that way.”
Brandon didn’t know what to do with this information. He didn’t know how to feel about what he’d just learned. There was no sympathy in his heart for Roslyn Ausby. There couldn’t be. She’d probably been the one to run his mother off the road, dammit! He could not feel anything for this woman.
“She’s out of control,” he said quietly. “People are dying.”
“You’re calling my aunt a killer?” Jazz asked as he took a step closer to Brandon.
“Back off, Jazz,” Elder said solemnly. “We have no idea how far she’
s evolved. I haven’t seen her in about twenty years.”
“I think she killed my mother,” Brandon told them, looking directly at Jazz. “There have been other deaths over the years and some incidents in these past months. She’s really angry that none of my uncles claimed to be the father of her son.”
“She has a son now, yes,” Elder said. “Amber was just telling us all of this.”
“She never mentioned him this morning,” Amber said. “Not one time.”
“Because this and everything else is about her,” Elder reiterated. “Everything she does is because she must get what she wants. It doesn’t matter how she gets it.”
“Then you know that she’s dangerous,” Brandon stated. “Why haven’t you tried to do something about her?”
“What would you have us do?” Zelda spoke up this time. “We cannot have her institutionalized if we don’t know where she is. We can’t show that she has problems if we don’t know what she’s doing, because we don’t know where she is. So just how much responsibility do you want us to take for what she’s out there doing now?”
Brandon didn’t know the answer to that question. All he knew for certain was that his world was spinning out of control.
“You should have told me,” he said to Amber. “You shouldn’t have lied to me.”
Brandon turned then because he was ready to leave. He’d gotten the answers he’d come for and didn’t feel one damn bit better about it. In fact, he actually thought he felt worse, if that were even possible.
#
“I didn’t lie to you!” Amber yelled after him and Brandon stopped.
He was halfway down the walkway when he turned to see her standing in the door.
“I never lied to you about anything,” she repeated, because it was imperative that he know that.
“You didn’t tell me who you really were. You sat there and listened to me go on and on about what this woman and her son were doing to my family, but you never said a word. Come to think of it, you and Jenise are friends and she didn’t say anything about who you really were either,” he recited as if he were reading a statement of charges against her.
