Back To You

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Back To You Page 4

by Fontaine, Bella


  I got a break from it all when Mama asked me to start cleaning the toilets and bathrooms upstairs. It was a most welcomed break because there were two bathrooms and three toilets up there. I’d worked out that if I started with the larger bathroom first I could spend a whole hour there cleaning all the tiles and the windows.

  The guests would be using the downstairs facilities so I would basically be left alone, and that would be my evening sorted out.

  It was after ten when I finished and headed to my room.

  When I got to the corner of the corridor, voices filtered out.

  “What is she doing with this?” Someone asked. It sounded like one of Tiffany’s bitch friends. “Where the hell would she even be wearing something like this?” She laughed.

  “It’s the new toilet look. Got to dress right to clean shit.” That was Tiffany and she was in my room.

  I rushed to the door to see her and Marsha inside. They had my stuff. My fabric and diamantes.

  “What are you doing in here?” I demanded. “This is my room.”

  Tiffany narrowed her eyes at me. “Yours? I wasn’t aware that anything in this house belonged to you.”

  “That is my personal property, put it down.”

  “Is she supposed to be rude?” Marsha asked.

  “No,” Tiffany answered in that snooty manner I hated. “She’s a servant, she isn’t supposed to be anything or do anything unless she’s told.” She tossed her platinum blond hair over her shoulder and stared me down.

  What a bitch. What a fucking bitch.

  “Give me my stuff back,” I demanded, putting my hand out. She was holding my silk cloth and Marsha had the pack of diamantes.

  “Didn’t say please,” Marsha teased. “Maybe you should try using the word.”

  “I will do nothing of the sort. You’re in my room with my stuff, give it back.”

  Tiffany stepped up to me. “I wonder where does a girl like you get money to buy stuff like this? Did you steal it? Maybe from Ryan’s mom?”

  “Give me my stuff back!” I cried. The whole horridness of the situation got to me. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and I just wished they’d give me my things and leave me alone. “Give it back.”

  “Here,” Marsha said but she opened the box of diamantes and threw them all over the room.

  “No, stop it.” I moved to her to stop her from dashing away the rest. I’d gotten just enough to put on the skirt and they would be a mission to find.

  She threw the box through the window and started laughing along with Tiffany.

  “Why do you guys have to be such jerks?” I cried.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Tiffany answered and showed me what a bitch she could be when she held up the material and ripped it down the middle.

  I lunged for her to stop her from doing further damage but Marsha held me back, grabbing my arms to keep me in place. She was taller than me and stronger so I was helpless.

  My heart broke when Tiffany grabbed the scissors from the dressing table and started cutting up the beautiful silk fabric I’d saved up for, for weeks, into tiny pieces. She cut it all up and dashed it on the floor. It was only once the damage was done that Marsha released me. All that bravado I’d previously exhibited was gone and tears streamed down my cheeks. I crumbled to the floor with the material, crying.

  “Pick that up Maid Girl,” Tiffany taunted. “Maybe you can –”

  Her voice cut when someone cleared their throat at the door. I didn’t bother to look to see who it was. No one here was on my side so it could only be another one of them from the group.

  “What’s going on in here?” It was Ryan.

  “We were just messing around.” Tiffany laughed.

  I glanced over my shoulder and noted the stern look on his face.

  “This area is off limits, go back downstairs,” he ordered.

  “Ryan come on –”

  “Get out!” he barked.

  I’d only ever heard him sound like that out on the football field. It was a tone that told you not to mess with him, or make him repeat himself.

  It was also the sort of commanding tone to make you listen and do as you were told, which was what the girls did.

  They left.

  I really wished I could stop the tears but the truth was I’d had enough. I’d had enough and was ready to walk. Leave and go anywhere that wasn’t here.

  Aunt Larissa dropped out of school when she was sixteen and I knew people who did it. I didn’t know what would happen to me if I left school and just left this God forsaken house but surely anything was better than this.

  I looked down at the shreds of cloth scattered on the floor and covered my mouth to hold back the fresh bout of tears that came.

  I’d expected Ryan to leave with them but he didn’t. He was still standing there and I was waiting for him to say whatever he wanted to say to me. More punishment for the other day.

  However, he kept his silence.

  He kept his silence, walked around to face me then crouched down. When he started picking up the shreds of material I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “What the hell’s this for?” He picked up the pieces and allowed them to drift back down to the ground.

  I had half a mind to ignore him but I knew that would only end up being to my detriment. The same thing that barely worked on the friends wouldn’t work with him. Plus, it was different when it came to him since this was his house.

  “I sew… I make clothes,” I answered in a meek voice.

  “Since when?” He prodded and those bright blue eyes that enchanted me from day one bored into mine.

  “Always.”

  He held my gaze, then looked at the material and diamantes over the ground. I geared myself up for some sort of sarcasm but he said nothing.

  Instead he surprised me by grabbing the wastepaper bin and gathering the shreds of material from the ground to toss inside. He gathered the whole bunch and left.

  With him gone I sank back against the wall and cried myself to sleep right there.

  When I woke the next day there was a bag next to me. One of those couture looking bags I’d seen Mrs. O’Shea with.

  I straightened, wondering where it came from. Usually me looking in bags resulted in seeing something that terrified me.

  When I peeked inside the bag I didn’t know whether to scream or cry.

  I reached in and pulled out what looked like yards of silk fabric the same cerise color as what was destroyed last night. Inside too was a big bag of diamantes.

  One hell of a size I would never have been able to afford and it was the good stuff.

  It all brought a smile to my face but damn, as I thought of who could have bought it for me my heart squeezed. The only person who’d have the heart to do something so nice for me was Mama.

  But… the only person who had the means to do this for me and knew I needed it was the guy I thought had no heart.

  Or… maybe he did.

  I got dressed and went outside to the garage. On Sundays he would always be out here working on one of his cars, or his bike.

  There he was.

  He was in the garage working on one of his old cars.

  Looking amazing as always, with that bad boy image he was so good at. A cigarette was tucked behind his ear as he looked under the hood of his car. He wore a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles and Levi’s that hung low on his hips.

  Ryan looked up when I approached and stared at me, giving me that flat expressionless gaze.

  I looked back in curiosity.

  He wasn’t known for doing anything nice, and not to me. What could have changed?

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  I wouldn’t have normally gone any closer than I had but I did. I walked right up to him.

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  The corners of his mouth lifted in that sexy half smile that made him look more alluring and the vision was enhanced when he tilted his head to the side and a
lock of his slick black hair fell over his eye.

  “What for?” he asked.

  “The material and stones,” I said pointedly.

  “What if it wasn’t me who got them for you? You just assume it was me?”

  “It was you,” I answered and he straightened up.

  “What are you making?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

  “A skirt.”

  “Where are you wearing the skirt?”

  What an odd question. “Out.”

  His gaze hardened and when he stepped forwards I stepped backward. He did it again and so did I. The wall prevented me from going further. He sneered and blocked me in by placing his palms either side of me on the wall.

  Then he moved closer until he was inches away from my face. So close his warm breath tickled my nose.

  “Out …with who?” he demanded.

  I widened my eyes at him, looking at him in complete disbelief.

  “No one, I told you I make clothes.”

  His gaze lowered to my top. It was a little camisole top I’d made last summer. I liked the way it fit me. My lips parted when he lifted the hem and tugged on the ends.

  “You make this?” It was the way he was looking at me - something darkened in his eyes, darkened with desire and my breath hitched when the tips of his fingers brushed over the bare skin of my stomach.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  Instead of the flutter against my skin he pressed his finger into me, all the while holding my gaze.

  The emotion that coursed through me awakened my senses, and sense of awareness. I didn’t know what alternate dimension I’d just walked into but this couldn’t be my reality.

  Closer… he came closer and I almost thought he was going to kiss me. I almost felt his lips on mine.

  Almost, and never.

  The kiss was a breath away but he leaned near to my ear, slightly brushing against my cheek.

  “It’s nice,” he whispered and I forgot what he was talking about.

  I only remembered when he released the hold he had on the top and moved back, away from me.

  Feeling momentarily stunned I wasn’t sure what to do, so I moved to leave.

  “Lana.” He called after me.

  I stopped and turned back to face him. “Yes.”

  “Make sure you show me this skirt of yours when it’s done.”

  I raised my brows. “You want to see it?”

  “Want to see you wearing it.” He gave me a devilishly handsome smile.

  “Okay,” I replied and it felt like the first time we truly connected.

  Something changed and I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something that piqued my interest.

  Chapter 5

  Ryan

  Present day…

  I hated sleeping on the plane and going into work straight after a flight.

  Today it was a necessity. I had back to back meetings from nine o’clock and I needed to speak to Dad about what was going on with the police.

  It was him they’d contacted first to set up a meeting to talk to the family.

  That was two days ago.

  Only two days ago, and it kick started my wrath.

  We weren’t really given much information, just contacted by Detective Gracen. I’d gone to the house to visit and got hit with the news. News that sent Mom to her bed. She was already frail as it was after that last round of chemo a few months back. That last round did her in, weakened her immensely. It was scary because I truly thought it would take her from me.

  The sight of her frail appearance was what made me get on that plane.

  After a busy morning I made my way to Dad’s office at lunch time.

  He was sitting behind his desk looking haggard and drained with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Days ago when we got the news he seemed more in control, but maybe it was his worry over Mom that gave him this presence.

  “Hey Dad,” I said as I walked in.

  “Hey kid,” he breathed. He still called me kid, and still tried to keep up that positive appearance he’d always sported even when he was troubled.

  I sat in the chair before him.

  He’d been in meetings too since I got in. His schedule was crazier than mine. I had a lot of little things going on with different cases, but he had a big tradesmark dispute case that had gone on for months.

  We both specialized in the same areas of law because he wanted to keep the management of the business in the family. So while we had a few other attorneys working for us, we were the senior partners. Me being as specialized as him helped when Mom got sick.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He released a heavy sigh and sat forward, resting his hands on the surface of his mahogany table.

  “No. I’m not okay, kid.” He shook his head. That answer there was the opposite of what he’d usually say. He’d sooner tell me he had things in hand than admit to not being okay. “I think I need to get Johnson to finish up the work on this case.”

  I frowned. Johnson was good at what he did but he always expected far too much in return, like we should be grateful or like he was doing us a favor. He was already on a higher salary than all the other attorneys and he was a junior associate. He just happened to have the expertise we needed for the more difficult intellectual property cases.

  Dad considering enlisting Johnson’s help also showed the situation was serious. He would never get anyone to help him or finish up his work if he didn’t think it called for it.

  “Ryan, don’t give me that face. I’m going to need help so Johnson is it. If he’s running the show on this case I won’t have to worry.”

  “I get it. I’m just pissed because it’s come to this.” I was more than pissed and still in two minds about whether or not it was Lana who’d contacted the police. I didn’t want to look like a prick who didn’t care or understand why she did it if it was her, but I saw what it did to Mom.

  “Ryan, you shouldn’t be pissed about that. I… also know you practically breezed down to L.A. yesterday, and I know you saw Lana.”

  I tensed. I didn’t know how he knew but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. For a start he knew I found her six years ago in L.A.

  He knew because I’d told him. But what I never told him was the back story. However, my father was my father and didn’t need to be told all that much to figure anything out. He could look at me and tell.

  The same way he looked at me two days ago when he told me the police wanted to reinvestigate Amelia’s death and in the same breath warned me away from seeing Lana. He’d just known what I was thinking.

  “Dad, it’s suspicious and completely out of the blue. It’s clear to me that someone requested the reinvestigation.”

  “It wasn’t her,” he answered pointedly and I straightened up. “Had you stayed you would have known that. But… I guess you needed an excuse.”

  He intensified his stare and I felt like a child again, the same boy who couldn’t hide anything from his father.

  Like my art when I was twelve. I tried to hide it because painting was so out of character for me. Him finding out about that was the first time I realized I couldn’t hide anything from him.

  Rebellious and wild as I was, he knew, always knew what I was up to even before I did it.

  “Excuse?” I could still be stubborn and hold my own.

  He held out his palms. “Sometimes it’s what you don’t say that speaks louder than words. Six years ago you told me you saw her in LA. I saw you sitting by the pond at the mansion just staring into space like someone died. When I asked what was wrong with you, you said you saw her and she was fine, designing her clothes. That was it…no elaboration. Just enough for me to deduce that she made it to where she wanted to be. I sat with you for an hour in silence and I only left when I realized you were so cut up that you couldn’t talk. You couldn’t talk and haven’t said anything about her since. I’m still here if you need me, but know this, I am a hundred per cent cooperating with
this investigation.”

  I didn’t want to talk about Lana. Not to anyone, although the best person to speak to was Dad.

  I just wanted to forget and maybe yesterday was the first step in doing so and truly moving on because I got the chance to give her the tamer version of a piece of my mind.

  “What happened yesterday?” I asked bringing back the conversation to what we should be focusing on.

  “I went to the station and spoke with the captain. He said there’s some new evidence that’s come to light. So the police just want to speak to us about it. Amelia lived with us. We were the closest people to her.” He glanced down at the table and ran his hand over his beard when he looked back to me.

  He’d always had the same look when the subject of Amelia came up. It was sad and it was like he’d lost something.

  I’d been going through the shit I was going through at the time with college and I just wanted to leave everyone. Take my girl and go.

  Even I noticed however that after Amelia’s death, Dad wasn’t the same.

  “It’s just a matter of formality,” he added. “New evidence they need to investigate.”

  “Like what?” I had to know.

  “It’s a missing part of the autopsy report that was found.”

  I bit the inside of my lip. That did not sound good. I’d been in the legal world far too long to take something like that as anything besides serious.

  “Dad, you can’t sit there and tell me you think this is just a matter of formality.” Now I wished I’d stayed, I would have most likely gone with Dad to the station, and gotten this info. I would have looked into it a little more because it sounded even more serious than I’d previously thought.

  Maybe though… I was really looking for an excuse to see Lana.

  “I know, but I’m just going with what they said. Ryan, Amelia was such a happy person. There was no real inkling of whatever caused her to take her life. None. There one day with that good natured everything. Then gone the next day.” He stopped and sadness filled his eyes.

  It was a sadness that was still very much alive in me. “It still grieves me, Dad.”

 

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