Fortress (Forde Family Series Book 2)

by nikki blaire

  He sped out of his driveway then rode the short distance to his mother’s house. As he parked, he realized how he now referred to this house as his mother’s and not his parents’ anymore. The change had come just as swiftly as everything else that had transpired over the past few months.

  A large moving truck sat in the front of the house. It looked so out of place, as he got out of the car and walked to the door. A mover happened to walk through just as he approached. The young man carried a large box and what looked like his father’s golf clubs.

  “Good afternoon,” He nodded, as they passed then went inside to find his mother.

  He stepped inside to the sound of soft music playing, the smell of cleaning products, and the faint murmur of arguing. Marcus looked up to where he heard the voices coming from. His eyes followed the sounds up the staircase to his parents' old bedroom.

  A second later, the bedroom door slammed and his father appeared. He bustled down the stairs, but stoppped once he saw Marcus.

  “What are you doing here?” He started, but was cut short by the sound of the bedroom door opening.

  They both looked up to see his mother throwing things over the staircase onto the floor.

  “Don’t leave a thing, Marcus.” She casually said before noticing her son standing there.

  “Marc, I’m glad you’re here.” She acknowledged him then went back into the bedroom.

  “What in the hell?” Marcus would tend to his father later.

  His mother was the reason for coming over.

  He briskly walked up the stairs, taking two at a time, until he reached the top. He rushed into the bedroom where he found his mother gathering another bundle of items to throw out.

  “Mother, what happened?” He stood in the doorway, just as he did the night his father was packing to leave.

  “Your father. That’s what.” She was moving around, but her tone was still calm and even.

  She looked unruffled in a long linen wrap dress, as she gathered up her father’s belongings.

  “It’s time for all of this to go and I’m not going to discuss it. It just needs to go. He needs to go.”

  “That’s what the movers are for, Mother. Stop.”

  “They’re not moving fast enough.” She looked up at Marcus with a death glare. “So, I’m helping.”

  “Mother, please. Don’t give him the reaction that he wants. I’m sure whatever happened is not worth all of this.”

  He gently grabbed her arm just as she picked up another load to toss. Claudette glared at him holding her, but eventually sighed and dropped the bundle in her hand onto the ground.

  “He asked me if I planned to honor our prenup or was I going to sell him out with that too.”

  She put a hand on her hip and another on her forehead before breathing deeply.

  “I apologize, Marc.” She inhaled. “I’m so glad you came. He really...got me out of character.”

  She wiped her brow and completely regained her regal composure.

  “Please handle this, Marc.” She started, but then changed her mind. “No. I can handle this.”

  She moved Marcus out of her way and then marched out of the room. Marcus quickly followed her down the stairs and caught her just as she neared his father.

  “Claudette, I’m not here for the theatrics. I swear, our daughter really got it honest.”

  “Don’t you talk about my children. You were never there for them. You didn’t raise them. You didn’t do anything,”

  “But provide for them and you. Exceptionally.” Marcus, Sr. snuffed before turning away.

  Marcus watched carefully, just in case his mother decided to give his father all that he deserved.

  “You’re right, Marcus. You have been an exceptional provider. You can keep every single thing that you’ve provided. I’ll get a new house. I’ll get new everything. Here, my love. Take these.”

  She reached up to her ears and tugged off her earrings. Next, she took off her bracelets and other jewelry.

  “You bought this too. Please take it. I don’t want a damn thing.”

  Marcus’ heart squeezed. His mother never cursed.

  “More of this, Claudette? Because I simply asked a question?” He was smug as ever, which baffled Marcus.

  How could a man in his position be so cavalier?

  “You insinuated that I’d be moved by this money. Like I’m the one who’s been investigated for embezzlement.”

  The sharp dig pierced the old man like a dagger. Marcus watched as the color bled out of his father’s eyes.

  “So, take anything you feel that belongs to you, Marcus. I would hate for you to feel slighted.”

  She pulled off her wedding ring and band then held out her hand. Marcus hoped that his father would take it, but when he didn’t hold out his own hand, Claudette let both fall to the floor.

  Suddenly, his father lurched forward. “I loved you more than life, woman!”

  Marcus, Sr. reached for Claudette, but Marcus put himself between them.

  “I gave you everything. Everything! And you throw my ring on the floor!”

  “Right next to our marriage.” Claudette was dismissive, while he watched in horror as his father broke down.

  “Where were you, Claudette?” He bellowed, still trying to get to her. “When I needed a wife, when I told you that the markets were shaky before the recession and that we needed to spend less...where was my wife, Claudette?”

  Marcus’ body tensed, while his father kept yelling. Moments that Marcus had long forgotten rushed to the forefront of his mind. He was a lot younger and just getting into his father’s business after finishing his M.B.A. He remembered whispers of stern conversations and late nights of his father drinking.

  “You were out spending money like it was running water!” His father barked. “But I stayed through that. I got us through all of that shit, Claudette!”

  Marcus refused to hear anymore. He needed both of his parents to be civil for his sake. He was still their son and this was having an impact on him. He had just found a semblance of peace and stability in his life. He would not let either of them ruin it.

  “Stop!” Marcus shouted so forcefully that both of them stopped in their tracks. “Stop this shit. You both look incredibly crazy. Fuck!”

  He had enough, as he picked up his mother’s wedding ring off of the floor. “This is not who you both are...or maybe it is.”

  He shook his head and then handed his mother her ring back. “Get it figured out. Forty-five years ends like this?”

  He sighed. “I just can’t believe it. I’m disappointed.”

  Marcus gave up and decided his time was better spent with the movers. That was what he had actually come over to do. Not referee his parents. Eventually, the movers were able to get all of his father’s things out of the house without more ruckus from his parents.

  Marcus, Sr. didn’t say a word to him before leaving. He simply followed the movers to the truck and then got in his car before pulling out of the driveway. His mother was just as mute before disappearing upstairs to her room.

  Standing in the empty living room, Marcus looked around at the walls that had just held family pictures and mementos of his father’s accomplishments. They were now replaced with white space. It hurt.

  He let himself stand there in the quiet house, while his mind raced through memories of happiness and warmth that had taken place in this exact same room.

  Every bit of the facade that both of his parents had created was shattered. His mother wasn’t a patron saint and his father wasn’t formidable. They were both just two people.

  Two people who had been in love, but fallen prey to life’s challenges. No one was perfect and no one was to blame. Things just fell apart.

  Marcus wiped away the single tear that fell in reverence for his parent’s lost love and marriage. He had been everyone’s strong tower during this ordeal, carrying every single one of their emotions, without ever expressing his own.

  �
�It’s over.” He hung his head and let out a deep breath.

  But as he inhaled again, he was overcome with a tranquility that he couldn’t quite describe. It was the same feeling that he felt while lying in bed holding Charlisse. It fell over him and cooled every over extended part of his body and mind then rushed back over him with comforting warmth. He was free.

  Really free.

  this feeling was the exact opposite of what he had felt while standing out on the balcony at Vanessa and Brandon’s wedding. Looking out over the city, he had felt powerful, yet trapped. Drowned by the high expectations of the life that had been laid out for him. He remembered that feeling so well, but now, it was gone.

  Marcus wrestled with his conscience over whether he should follow his mother upstairs, but he decided against it. He had tread enough of everyone’s else’s water. He finally had his own life to tend to.

  Marcus left the house and got into his car. Once inside, he called Charlisse just to hear her voice.

  “Hello,” She picked up and a smile immediately locked in place on his face.

  “Hey, beautiful. Are you still at my house?”

  “No, but I locked up like you asked.” She didn’t sound like herself.

  “No problem. I was just hoping honestly, but I know you have things to do. You okay?”

  Charlisse sighed, but didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m fine. I think I’m just, I don’t know. I just don’t feel like myself.”

  “You really should go to the doctor then, baby. I know we kinda joked about it the other day, but,”

  “Speaking of that,” It sounded as if she walked away from the phone for a moment. “Do you wanna go with me to get tested next Wednesday? My doctor has an opening in the afternoon.”

  “That day sounds familiar for a reason,” He checked his schedule on his watch.

  Sure enough his assistant had blocked off Wednesday for his Sports Illustrated interview.

  “It’s the same day as my interview with Sports Illustrated, I can’t do that day. You’re gonna miss it?”

  “I shouldn’t miss it completely,” Her voice trailed off.

  He wanted her there, so he almost protested, but stopped short once he realized how immature that would be. He wasn’t a child. He could handle this by himself.

  He had gone his entire adult life without Charlisse, so he didn’t get why all of a sudden not having having her there was so crushing. It was just hard to imagine his big moment without her.

  “It’s okay,” He started.

  “I’ll be there before it’s over. I promise. The photoshoot alone will take half of the day.”

  “No, really, it’s fine. Come when you can. Don’t rush. You can help me prep though, right?”

  “Of course.” He could hear Charlisse’s smile through the phone.

  He pulled into his own driveway a little solemn that he would be spending the night alone. He and Charlisse had been between each other’s places for the past few weeks, but he figured that they could use some actual rest for a night. Plus, it seemed like she wanted the space, which was understandable.

  Usually, he was the one vying for time alone.

  “Good. That’ll be good enough for me. I’ll take you any way that I can have you.” He walked into his house and tossed off his suit jacket.

  “You’re home?” She asked after hearing the sound of his front door close.

  “Yeah, I’m in for the evening. I could go back to the office, but after what happened with my parents…”

  “Something happened with your parents?”

  “Yea, but I’ll tell you later, baby. I want you to enjoy your night alone without my shit going through your head. For once.” He chuckled, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes.

  Charlisse gave a small laugh, but it was half hearted. He could tell that her mind was heavy, but he would wait for her to open up to him about it. She would when she was ready. Unlike him, she was an expert at communication.

  “Marc,”

  Oh, here it comes.

  He sat down and readied himself to intently listen to her.

  “I’ll talk to you later. ”

  “Okay.” He looked at the phone puzzled. He hadn’t expected that. “Talk to you later.”

  Charlisse hung up without another word.

  Sixteen

  Another morning of feeling queasy hit Charlisse when she opened her eyes.

  “Thankfully, I’m going to the doctor today.” She looked down at her phone, while the alarm sounded off.

  She crawled out of bed and went to her closet to find the easiest thing to put on. Some of her clothes were starting to feel too constricting.

  What’s wrong with me?

  But she wasn’t referring to her finicky stomach. She was used to its ups and downs since becoming a vegetarian. The slightest meat product or grease could send her stomach into a tailspin.

  She had chalked it up to something that she ate a while ago and moved on. No, her question to herself was about the emotional rollercoaster that she had allowed herself to ride on with Marcus.

  Ever since they met, Charlisse’s logic and emotions had been caught in a battle royale. One moment, she was sure of everything, but then insecurity would rear its ugly head.

  “Uggh!” She tossed the outfit that she had just pulled out onto the bed.

  She was so frustrated with herself. “I’m making things complicated.”

  She knew that was the truth, but she also couldn’t ignore her feelings no matter how much she tried to parse through them. Even worse, her therapist was on vacation, so she couldn’t stop in for a quick session to unravel her tangled web of anxiety.

  Charlisse flopped down on her bed then laid out on top of it.

  “His mother.” She scoffed.

  Last week’s interview with The Post looped in her mind again. She was tired of seeing it, hearing it, remembering it, but she just couldn’t shake her disappointment.

  Marcus had basically said ‘no’ when Terry asked him if he was seeing someone. And it devastated her. Even worse, she couldn’t quite figure out why.

  “He did the right thing.” She reminded herself, her mind and emotions at war again.

  Marcus had responded exactly how she would have prepared him to. Her agony over their privacy and the impact that their relationship would have on her career was constant. How could she even expect Marcus to divulge information like that to the press?

  But, still, she had wanted him to. In that moment, when she thought that he would, the sky didn’t fall like she had thought. In fact, she felt loved. She felt seen. She felt acknowledged, all of which were emotions that she never knew that she yearned for from him.

  “Maybe you were so adamant about not sharing your relationship because you thought he never would?” She tried to psychoanalyze herself since her therapist was unavailable.

  “Maybe you were trying to beat him to the punch. Prevent the disappointment.” She rolled over onto her stomach and stared at the abstract painting that hung over her bed.

  Initially, she had bought it because the jumble of various colors and shapes made her think of the city’s hectic pace. But now, it reminded her of her insides - a mess.

  “What are you really afraid of, Charlisse?” She blew out a long breath then let her head fall onto the comforter. “What? What is the problem?”

  I could be wrong again.

  She knew the answer. She had always known. It was the real reason why she hadn’t taken anyone seriously since ending her engagement. She didn’t want to be wrong about another relationship again.

  Charlisse had built a reputation for being right, for making sound decisions. Yet, and still, her love life showed otherwise. Making decisions for others was a piece of cake, but making them for herself was an entirely different story.

  “The irony.” She sighed then sat back up. “You won’t get past this if you’re not honest with yourself.”

  Honestly, she felt a lot of pressure to be the r
ight choice for Marcus because she believed that he was that for her. Even when they weren’t supposed to be messing around, being with him always felt right. Still, he was Marcus Forde, Jr. and to make matters worse, he was the CEO of Forde Financials, Inc. now. He was wealthy, powerful, and had the entire world at his fingertips. Was she the right woman for that or was someone like Vanessa better suited?

  Like she had been better suited for Brandon.

  Charlisse was behind the scenes, she was a strategist, not a trophy wife or a socialite. Marcus saw so much good in her now, but would he feel that way when she wasn’t hosting scholarship banquets and luncheons?

  How would her work be affected by being with him? Would he be unfaithful like his father? He had been a little salty about her missing part of his interview today. How would he act if she missed something bigger because of work or something else?

  And if she chose him, but lost her career, would it be worth it?

  So many questions surfaced, but these were things that only time could truly tell. The problem was that she felt like she didn't have time. She needed to figure out if she was willing to let go and let Marcus love her now.

  She swallowed hard because she already knew the answer.

  Her phone began to vibrate and she wasn’t going to answer until she looked over and saw that it was her father.

  “Hey, daddy.” She scooped the phone up just before it went to voicemail.

  “Bebelle, good morning. I don’t have anything to say. I was just calling to chat.”

  “Is that so, Daddy?” He lifted her mood enough for her to get up off the bed.

  “Yeah, I happened to have some free time this morning, so I thought I’d give you a ring before my law clerk comes in here babbling about whatever.”

  She smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “And guess what I found last night?”

  “What Daddy?”

  “My wedding album. I got to looking through it and man, that was something.”

  Charlisse stilled, just as she was about to pull on her clothes. She tried to assess whether her father was happy or sad, but let him continue before she said anything.

  “It was a good trip down memory lane to see that. It really was.”