by Amarie Avant
As Charlene fanned her flushed face, Raven glanced at the ground. I have eyes like my father. She almost popped up from the seat. She'd begged and pleaded Damien to be there for her mom. He had been vague, but there he was. She didn't have to hear her nightmare.
“The big rig was pale-blue …” Standing up abruptly, Charlene paced. “I keep thinking about the dreams I had, and I don’t want to tell you something false.”
Stork nodded for her to continue.
Raven forced herself to endure it, to listen to every single word and hold back the bile. Roy had left her mom for dead. Had he attempted to murder her? Was he a murderer, a serial killer, and Char was one of many?
She bit the inside of her mouth until she tasted copper.
“Charlene,” Stork’s voice seized and forced both Shaw women into reality, “take your time and think.”
“I don’t know.” The star’s hands went up in defeat. “What if I tell you something that’s not true? Something th-that I dreamed and …”
Her eyes seemed to be saying, “What if you find him?”
Fuck that, Stork has to find him. Raven licked her lips. She knew her course of action if Roy was ever found.
“C’mon, babe,” Damien said, guiding Charlene back to her seat. “Take your time. Just start with the beginning.”
“I missed the Greyhound. Instead of going back home, I sat at the bus stop to think.” She closed her eyes. “He introduced himself as Roy Timmons and offered me a ride …”
As her mom talked about the friendly truck driver offering her mother dinner while they traveled, tears instantly welled in her eyes. Her mom had been drugged.
“Mrs. Wright, do you know how long you were there? Hours? Days?”
“I woke up a couple of times, but I was tied up. There were no windows.”
“By a rope? Chains? What material?”
“I-I don’t know,” she stuttered, fidgeting with her fingers. “It-it was a rope!”
“How was it tied? Sloppy? Boy Scout?”
“Coiled, like a noose—no, that can’t be right. Let me think.” Charlene’s hand went to her neck, as if she felt for some type of rope holding her hostage. “I don’t remember. It had to be days, though. He tried to feed me breakfast a few times and other food throughout the day.”
“Did he speak to you when he tried feeding you?”
“No, no—yes! Roy said I was different than the others …”
Chapter
“I texted you over a month ago,” Liam began, as he held the phone up, viewing his mother through FaceTime. Liam had been ready to apologize a month before. Yet something in him didn’t want to continue the argument with his mother.
“Oh, I just found out, son. I’m actually in Peru. Funny, I must have arrived the same day you messaged me. Service sucks.”
“Peru?” His eyebrow rose.
“Yes, volunteering in Peru.”
“Why?”
Elise gasped.
“Don’t take offense, Mother, altruism isn’t in your nature.”
“Perhaps to freshen up my karma. Anywho, you lived in Ecuador for a few months after college. Why can’t I assist families for a few measly weeks?” His mother tilted her phone. The screen displayed a dingy hallway. There were cots lined up the narrow space. “See, now do you believe me?”
He smiled. “Great. That’s … I’m speechless. Will I get to see you next week in Santa Monica?”
“I …” Elise stuttered. “There are children here, hungry ones.”
“There’s no doubt about it. But I’d like to see you. I’ve made some big mistakes in my life, and the crap I said to you …” His voice broke somewhat. “The last time I saw you, well, I need to apologize for it.”
“Nonsense, Liam, you’re a Delacroix through and through. Apologies are for sorry poor people.” She winced, glanced around, and then smiled into the phone. “So I’m to assume R-Raven has returned?”
Not returned, she never left. I made the unfortunate mistake of doing so. Liam nodded. Once he was eye to eye with Elise, he’d apologize, regardless of his upbringing. And then he’d request that Elise apologize about the letters she wrote. He loved his mother. So he hoped forgiveness would be easy for them all. Elise, too, had missed out on Royael’s younger years.
A bell sounded in the background of Elise’s call. She promised to attend the Santa Monica Delacroix Hotel grand opening before she disconnected.
***
That evening, Liam let himself into the house. He was prepared to mention that his mother would be present in less than seven days, but he noticed Raven sitting on the settee in the living room.
Raven’s gaze was off into the distance, her camera in her lap. Those pretty, pink lips of hers stiff. What was she thinking? Her mom. Raven just visited with her mom today. Though he wasn’t perfect, he’d be damned if Charlene said or did something out of line.
“How was it at your mom’s?” Liam asked, concern evident in his maple eyes. A smile warmed her golden complexion.
“No worries, baby. I think our relationship has come far,” Raven said as he started to take his tie off. She placed the camera on the seat next to her and stood.
“Well, you seem tense.” He took her in his arms.
“Um, yeah, guess I am.”
Liam kissed her, nudging her to continue.
“My stepdad, I guess, I really haven't said that word out loud, wow …”
“Damien? I had a feeling he was a good guy.”
“The best. But he and my mom are kinda on ‘Trinity-speaking-terms’ only.”
He almost said he saw the article of Char and her costar Scandalous magazine had posted. He never read the damn thing, or had a real hand in its production, but decided not to mention it. “They'll work things out. You've got a little sister, right?”
“The cutest little chocolate drop just north of the border.”
“Then things will work out.” Liam's hand slid up her arm, trailed her shoulder, and up her neck. His thumb traced her pouty mouth. He reached over and kissed her breath away.
“Liam … Estella and Royael are in the theatre.”
Liam twirled his tongue over her neck. The act made her knees weak. He picked her up in one quick scoop. “All right, I'll lock you in my room,” he said, to which she giggled.
Chapter 30
Water rushed along the shores of the Santa Monica Delacroix Hotel. Employees hoisted canopies with the gold “D” crest around a stage for the night’s grand opening. Arms resting on the balcony of the penthouse suite, Raven watched the first day of summer unfold below.
She grabbed the towel next to the Jacuzzi, wrapped it around herself, then walked back into the living room of the penthouse suite. Heart heavy, she thought about meeting Pierre Delacroix. She hadn’t seen Jonathan or Elise Lemaître in over five years.
It had been a busy morning. She hadn’t seen Liam since their arrival the previous night, and even on the Learjet, his Bluetooth had been glued to his ear. Ascending the spiral staircase, she went down a long crystal-and-gold-decorated hallway.
Raven walked down the hall to the lilac textured room she shared with Liam. He stood at the vanity, adjusting a satin bowtie. She licked her lips at scrumptiousness-in-a-tuxedo and prepared to sneak up behind him when he turned around.
“Do you like the dress?” His mischievous smile faded. “C’mon, Raven. You’re not ready.”
“I thought we had an hour or so.” That’s what the ultra-glossy invitations read. Besides, she’d planned to be prompt.
“You have thirty minutes.” He looked at her in the mirror, brushing the blond curls in his hair.
She sat down at the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me you brought me a dress? I could have saved hours of shopping with my mom.”
“Wear yours to the next event.” He sprayed on intoxicating cologne and gave one last look in the mirror. Pecking her cheek, he reminded her that after the event, Estella would watch Royael while he, she, and his m
other chatted. Then Liam left.
After a rushed shower, Raven dressed. She rubbed her hands down a butter-soft gown that fit like a glove, falling to the floor with a short train. Her heart drummed wildly as she turned and examined herself in the full-length mirror. The plunging neckline stopped just above her belly button. One false move, and the guests would get a free view of her beasts. She could imagine Granny shaking her head and warning, “You gonna catch a cold, just to get a man to look at you.”
“You look gorg’,” the stylist said as Raven sat on the white chair. The bright lights shined down on an arsenal of hair products. “Since your dress is so exotic, I wanted to put your hair up. Trust me, you gotta show off these earrings.” She ran her hands through Raven’s hair. “You should take off that ring. It doesn’t go with the sleek style or the gold dress.”
“No, I’m wearing it.” Raven turned the ring with her thumbs.
“Okay, what about the bangles? They don’t go, either.”
“I’m wearing those, too. Look, I really didn’t need help getting dressed. I’m not a celebrity.” I know just how I want to look.
“Hey, I get it.” The stylist finished a ringlet of hair with the curling iron and patted her shoulder. “You’re not use to the limelight and being in all of those magazines. Tonight is a big event. God forbid you go out with one strand of hair unkempt, the world will know.”
Digging through the side compartment of the leather case, the stylist pulled out a couple of magazines and placed them into Raven’s hands. As her hair was being curled, she scanned the pages. Though the articles hadn’t bashed her physical appearance, she’d been given the title of Liam’s “baby mama” and was labeled an “on-and-off again fling over the years.” One magazine suggested that she’d gotten her claws back into him when he moved to Dallas.
“Playboy settles,” Raven said under her breath.
***
Raven felt like she and Royael were extraterrestrial beings—the little creepy ones with small bodies and balloon-sized heads—as Pierre Delacroix sat across from them at a round banquet table. Too bad the bouquet of orchids in the center weren’t taller. He sat next to Elise. Raven tried not to gawk, thankful that Elise kept averting her eyes. Only one of her enemies hadn’t showed. Why wouldn’t Jonathan be here for his son? She tuned in every time a round of claps commenced while a few of the board members of Delacroix Corp gave speeches.
When Liam stood up, Raven whispered, “Good luck” as he kissed her cheek. Stomach full of imaginary pop rocks, a few bites of house salad, and a sliver of filet mignon, she watched him venture to the stage. His confident stride turned the heads of Delacroix Hotel’s most exclusive investors and guests, the super wealthy that could buy her a gazillion times over.
“Don’t worry,” Estella said into her ear. “He’s an old dog! They’re more bark than bite.”
Raven’s eyebrows scrunched until realizing that Estella was attempting to comfort her after the introductions with Pierre. He appeared polite enough, but something about him just didn’t sit right with her. Maybe he was a posh vessel—an empty body. No organs. No heart. She gave Estella a weak smile and listened as Liam began his speech, making sure her spine was straight. She hadn’t slouched since arriving. His ambitiousness enticed her, along with half of the other female dummies batting their lashes. Raven’s eyes trapped Elise’s green ones for a splinter of a second, and she was caught off-guard when Liam mentioned her name. Instantly, she felt guilty for not focusing. Once again, she diverted all her attention to his speech, trying not to think about how out-of-sorts she felt. When the attendants came around with silver carts of dessert, Elise excused herself.
“Daddy, I wanna go to Disneyland. This is boring!”
“We’ll go later,” Liam replied.
“Yes, Mickey Mouse seems like fun,” Raven added.
She then smiled, stood up, and hastened toward the double doors. Raven had to slow herself down while pushing through them. She peered down a hallway with mermaid and sea-creature gold-marble statues and gazed around at the guests in ball gowns and tuxedos. Just like her, but not just like her. She looked toward the restroom; maybe Elise had gone in there.
Before Liam mediated an apology, Raven wanted to have a heart-to-heart with his mother. Not because, if Raven were more easily persuaded, there’d have been no Royael, but because this woman had made her entire life torture, even as a child. Raven recalled the moment Elise glared at her, making her feel like nothing. It would be embarrassing to mention as much in front of Liam.
Slipping into the powder room with gold-textured walls, she sighed. Aw, shit!
Camille threw daggers of hate. “Hello, little girl.”
“Good evening, Godzilla.” Raven tried to pass toward the stalls. Cognitively speaking, she was still attempting to collect the words to say to Elise. Getting along was a must. Not for Liam, but for Royael. The woman was her grandmother, for Christ’s sake.
“Sit with me.” Camille grabbed her arm and plunked them both down on a silk chaise.
Jesus, help me out here. This is Liam’s event.
“I love that tacky ring of yours, it’s so … you.”
“How cute, you’re still stuck on me. My bad. I assumed it would be easy for Miss Camille Kerr to nab a new sugar daddy.” Her heart started booming again, and anger rose like waves. Light gray. She saw Camille as the punching bag in Liam’s house, could feel the euphoria of pummeling her face. Dark gray. Not now, I can’t feel this anger now. The sort of hatred that Roy has to feel when doing only God knows what. Breathing in and out like her therapist had taught her, she calmed herself back to light gray.
“Not tonight. Where would my manners be, since Liam invited me, you silly goose.” Camille giggled, leaning over to pat her shoulder.
“Camille Kerr, you will not behave this way in my hotel.” In a lace gown, Elise embellished the doorway of the sitting area.
The dinosaur scampered out of the lady’s room.
Raven looked at Liam’s mother. Bristling, she was unsure if the woman had taken up for her, or just saved Liam from Camille.
“I thought that only in movies or other forms of mass media the underdog wins,” Elise sneered.
Raven’s throat clogged as Liam’s mother glared at her in much the same way she’d done as a kid.
Elise twirled her finger through a string of pearls. “Oh, and this is a wig, just so you know. Though my hair has grown back, I’ve taken a liking to them, since you broke into my house and put hair removal product into my shampoo. I’m still appalled that the wrinkled, old man sweet talked the Sherriff—”
“Actually, that wrinkled old man, Grandpa Otis, had a nice talk with my father.” Raven smirked. Black overwhelmed gray as her eyes narrowed. “Wait, wait, Jonathan isn’t my father, now, is he?”
Elise shrugged as her lips curled, then she pivoted on her heels to walk away, but Raven stepped in her path.
“I suggest you move. Otis can’t save you anymore.” Elise stepped closer and pearly-white teeth came out to play. “Aw, he’s dead. This is not the little town of Bellwood. You’ve fooled a few with that designer gown, but I know trash when I see it.” Her nose crinkled as she stepped closer. “When I smell it. There will be no more of your shenanigans, Miss Shaw.”
“Thank you, Elise. I love you so much,” she began, and almost laughed when Elise’s face paled. “I have to be the dumbest woman on the planet to believe you and I could talk cordially. But you, man, you never change. I admire that the most about you. You keep it real when it comes to envying people beneath you.”
“Me?” Elise pointed at her chest. “I envy you?” She stepped toward the exit and locked the door. “Enlighten me.”
Raven nodded. This conversation should have revolved around the seriousness of Elise’s deception. And yet, Raven found herself sneering and sad for this woman. “You’re so disgusting. I have done virtually nothing for you to hate me.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong, R
eRe.” Elise used her nickname for emphasis. “You broke my heart the day you entered my son’s life! You got your little claws in his shoulders, little black bitch while batting your little blue eyes!”
“Fuck you, and your son! Yeah, I said it. Liam is human, I love him, but right now this isn’t about him. I could have murdered Royael because of the letter I got from Liam.” Raven’s voice never rose. They were amidst gilded marble, even the liquid soap was worth its weight. The affluent. She hated it all.
“Yes, as you just said, you were so stupid! Too stupid to get rid of that little girl, that daughter of yours is blood related, but no family of mine. I knew you’d be back one day. You don’t just want child support, do you now? And yes, this is about Liam. The day you set your sight on him, is the day I lost him.”
The hairs on Raven’s forearms prickled. The old Creole woman who'd crashed into her in New Orleans with Liam. Those words she hadn't heard in years flooded her mind in a flash. In that very instant, Raven could murder Elise with her bare hands.
A small gasp wracked through Raven’s body.
“Elise, do you remember when I’d get into fights as a child? I’m sure you do. That’s one of the reasons you wanted Liam to stay away from me, right? Except you don’t know besides fighting my battles—the name callers and gossipers about my mom—I fought Liam’s battles, too. The people who called him fat.” Raven paused as Elise placed her hands on narrowed hips. “What you also don’t know is that I’d feel a sense of exhilaration. It felt oh, so good. I’d blackout. Beat the shit out ’em until Liam or someone else could pull me off. Now, I haven’t fought in a while. As a mother, I let shit ride. I hold it in—my anger. Remember that the next time you cross me. You’ll see just how much I’ve been holding in.”
“Hmmm, is that so?” Elise beamed brighter than the sun. “I’m thoroughly insulted. I’ve known you since you were a wee baby. It hurts my heart that you would resort to threats.”
Raven gave her a sideways glance. “No. Not threats. Promises. I promise the next time you fuck with me—God save your soul if you touch one hair on my daughter’s head, I’m going to beat you until my heart overflows with joy, in the name of Jesus!”
