Our Unscripted Story

by L. A. Fiore

  “Are these my family’s files?”

  “Yes.” I patted the sofa next to me. “The legend Callum shared with us about the green diamond, do you believe it’s real?”

  He settled next to me and I handed him the photograph of one of his ancestors, an image he likely was very familiar with since the original was life-size and hung in the portrait gallery of his home.

  “I don’t know, but my ancestors believed in it.”

  “The diamond is here in his sword and in these…” I pulled out two photographs of Ratcliffe women who were wearing the diamond, which had been crafted into a brooch. “Why only two of your ancestors and not every Ratcliffe woman?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do.”

  His eyes found mine as a grin curved his lips. “You are enjoying this.”

  “I am. I’ve always loved a good story, and Greyson, you have an incredible story in your ancestry. The diamond became a sort of testament to love. If a Ratcliffe man was marrying for love and not duty, on their wedding day he gave his betrothed the diamond.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. It’s kind of sad. All the generations of Ratcliffes and only two unions were love matches. Duty bound to continue the bloodline the rest of your ancestors chose the continuation of family over love. I get it. I mean, it’s incredible to have a lineage that dates back to the thirteen hundreds, but I guess I never realized to maintain a lineage like that there has to be sacrifices.”

  Greyson studied the images of his ancestors. “What happened to the diamond? Have you read anything in those papers?”

  “No. After the fire, the diamond went missing. I could just be filling in reality with fantasy as I have a habit of doing, but what if the fire was started as a diversion so someone could steal the diamond?”

  “Sounds feasible.”

  “I believe it’s real. I believe all of it. Had I not met you, I might not have been inclined to believe in a love like that, but I’m living it.”

  He touched my cheek. “The bedroom is done.”

  “What?” I jumped from the sofa. “It’s done and you let me rattle on. Come on.” I grabbed his hand.

  He stood, but instead of heading to our bedroom, he yanked me close and kissed me hard on the mouth. And only after my legs turned to noodles and my insides to mush did he lead me upstairs. As soon as I saw our walls, I was transported back. Not just to Mendocino, but to the past…our past. It was the bluff; every detail lovingly recreated—the crashing surf, the rock cliffs, the sea grass blowing in the breeze, the spray of the water. Even the gulls.

  The swell of love had my voice a little rough when I said, “It’s exactly how I remember it.”

  “Not exactly,” he whispered.

  He pulled me down to the floor and covered my body with his. “Now, it’s exactly how I remember it.”

  “We need furniture. I love my futon, but it doesn’t work in here.” Greyson and I were lying on said futon, my back to his chest, watching television. We hadn’t left the apartment since he arrived. It had been two weeks of nothing but loving, eating and sleeping. The best two weeks ever.

  “You told me once you’d show me your city, do you remember that?”

  “Yes.” And I loved that he did too.

  He glanced down and grinned. “So show me your city.”

  We’d been to the Statue of Liberty, The Met and The New York Library. I offered to take him to the American Girl store, but he declined. Instead, he wanted to see Coney Island, but first we stopped for lunch.

  “Do you trust me?”

  He grinned at the memory. “Yes.”

  I ordered two Nathan’s hot dogs and two lemonades. “No toppings needed. Trust me.”

  We ate while we walked. “You’re right. These are fucking delicious.”

  “What do you want to do first?” I asked. He didn’t answer, just took my hand and pulled me along.

  “I’m going to be sick,” I held my stomach. Going on a rollercoaster after eating a hot dog was not smart.

  Greyson was like a kid in a candy store. The dude was an adrenaline junky. “We have to go again. Are you really feeling sick?”

  I hadn’t seen this side of him even when we were kids. I loved it, totally worth the upset stomach. “No, I’m good.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. I didn’t know you liked amusement parks so much.”

  “I’ve never been to one.”

  “So this is a first.”

  “Yeah, and it’s fucking awesome.”

  It was, more so watching how much he was enjoying it. To think we had a lifetime of firsts. The need to pinch myself was back. “I look forward to sharing more firsts with you, Mr. Ratcliffe.”

  He jerked his head to me, then pulled me close to kiss me senseless and I was fairly brain dead when he finished.

  “Rollercoaster,” he said against my lips.

  He could have led me anywhere and I would have gone happily.

  We rode the rollercoaster three more times before we decided to head to the Empire State Building. On our way Greyson said cryptically, “We need to make a stop.”

  A tattoo parlor was our stop. Inside, the guy behind the counter called Greyson by name. “Perfect timing, Greyson. We’re all set up.”

  “Set up for what?”

  “I’m getting a tattoo.”

  That was news to me. “You are?”

  The artist, Tiggs, took a transparency and pressed it to Greyson’s left arm, the inside near his heart. It was a seagull in flight holding sea grass and the sea grass spelled my name. Us forever inked on his skin.

  My bright eyes met his. “I love it.”

  He brushed my lips with his thumb then settled back in the chair. “All right, let’s do this.”

  For the next hour I watched as Greyson branded himself for me.

  “Harder, please Greyson, harder.” We never made it to the Empire State Building. We hadn’t even made it into our apartment. In the foyer off the elevator, I attacked him. I wanted to kiss his tattoo, that had to wait, but being pressed up against the wall as Greyson drilled his cock into me was fucking fantastic.

  I grabbed his hair and yanked his head to mine, my tongue pushed into his mouth, my hips following his lead as he drove us both wild.

  I came on a scream, muffled by Greyson’s tongue in my mouth. He came right after me. His powerful body went still as a moan burned up his throat.

  He dropped his head on my shoulder. “I need to catch my breath.”

  “We need to do that again,” I countered.

  Pale eyes lifted to me. “I’m taking you like the tattoo.”

  “I love the tattoo.”

  His big hand covered my breast. I pressed into his touch and bit my lip as pleasure coiled in my gut. He looked wicked when he said, “I’m ready for round two.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Greyson asked while we waited at a stoplight. We were on the way to see my mother. I was born in the Bronx, lived on Earley Street for the first two years of my life. On the way to the cemetery we were driving by my old house. The place where I believe I had been happy, loved, the place where my mother had died protecting me.

  “Yes.”

  He reached for my hand and though I knew he had his reservations, he didn’t push his will on me.

  “Thank you.” He glanced over. “For being here, for letting me see this through, for having your opinions but not forcing them on me.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet. I know what else is going on in that head of yours. Seeing your house, your mom, I get. Poking a fucking tiger, I’m not going to be as accommodating.”

  I wanted to see my father’s clubhouse or whatever it was called. Hoped I’d get a glimpse of the man in my photo.

  “We won’t get out of the car.”

  “From what I’ve read about your father’s gang or club or whatever, they’re criminals. I’m not talking stealing cars and shit, I’m talking trafficking in drugs, murde
r. If the rumors are to be believed, they are not people you want to know.”

  I couldn’t believe that of the man in my picture, but after losing everything he loved I supposed it was possible he chose to live recklessly if he believed he had nothing left to live for.

  “If we believe he left you to keep you safe, you showing up right in the middle of his fucked up world is not going to win you any points with him.”

  “He doesn’t need to know we’re there.”

  “People living in his world, they have to know everything as a means of survival. Hell, he probably already knows you’re living in New York.”

  The idea my dad had kept tabs on me over the years had my heart hammering. Despite what he had become, a man would only do that if he cared. “You think he’s been watching?”

  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “But you think he’s kept me on his radar.”

  “Yes, if for no other reason than to keep you away.”

  My focus shifted outside. Greyson’s words were meant to discourage me, but I wasn’t at all. I was going to know my dad, whether my dad liked it or not.

  My house was a little brick house with a covered porch sitting on a postage-stamp sized lawn. It was a happy looking house on a happy street, marred by violence that changed at least three lives irrevocably.

  I stood on the street in front of the house and tried to picture my parents walking over the threshold after they married, sitting on the porch, Mom ripe with me as Dad touched her belly talking to me. I was using my imagination but somehow I knew it had been like that. Love, between them, for me. And then I thought of the bullets that ripped through her as she stood protecting me. All that love, all that promise over in a blink of an eye.

  Greyson wiped the tears from my cheeks then pulled me close, silently offering his strength.

  “I’m ready,” I offered after a while. This wasn’t my house; it was a memory, one that I could tuck away and recall when I wanted to remember.

  He pressed a kiss on my head then led me to the car. We drove in silence to the graveyard. I was mentally preparing myself. Seeing our house had been hard, but I was going to my mom’s grave. She was there, physically, but maybe her spirit roamed the graveyard, restless because she had unfinished business. Maybe this reunion would put her at ease, allow her to move on. I knew it was what I was hoping to get out of it.

  For the city, the cemetery was quiet. Big oak trees and hills of green spread out before us as we drove along the curving road to the caretaker’s office. Greyson kept the car idling while running in to get her plot location. My focus was out the window, my fingers twisting together. There was a weight in my chest that grew heavier the closer we got. It would make it real, seeing her name etched on the stone. Her final resting place.

  Greyson pulled the car to the side of the road and shut it off. I reached into my purse and pulled out the very first journal I ever wrote, the one that told the tale of my imaginary friend Emily. I wanted to leave my mom something of me. I thought it fitting to give her the very first stories I ever wrote.

  Greyson insisted on photocopying the journal; he took the book to the library and photocopied it himself. It was the little things, the small acts of love that left me breathless.

  I climbed from the car, Greyson reached for my hand as I came around it. Silently we walked to her stone. I held his hand tighter when we reached a stone of an angel resting over the top of a heart. The inscription was the last straw, my legs crumbled under me as I sank down next to her grave and silently wept.

  Sade Owens-Levy

  1962-1982

  Beloved Wife and Devoted Mother

  You were an angel among us

  but now you’re home

  Greyson’s strong arms came around me. My fingers twisted his shirt as a lifetime of heartache broke free. She loved me. I didn’t appreciate the gravity of that until seeing her grave. She was so young when she died, younger than I was now. She had only been at the beginning. I don’t know how long I wept at her graveside. Greyson never let me go, held me until I cried myself dry. I pulled from the safety of his arms, glanced up into his compassion filled eyes then turned to my mom’s stone.

  I ran my fingers over her name. “I’m here, Mom. I found you. I love you. I’ve loved you my whole life. I kept you close and I always will.” I placed the journal on her grave. “A piece of me.” I wiped at my cheeks. “One day we’ll meet again. I love you, Mom.”

  Greyson

  My fucking heart was breaking. Alexis’ focus was out the side window. She’d been quiet since leaving the cemetery, but seeing her weeping at her mother’s grave, holding her body as it shook with sobs, was so damn hard knowing there was nothing I could do to ease that pain.

  She wanted to meet her dad, but I wasn’t on the same page. He lived through the loss of his wife; he cut his daughter from his life to keep her out of his world. He knew the dangers and as much as it hurt Alexis to lose her parents, I respected the man for having the balls to give her up. I hoped I would have the strength to do the very same if ever my lifestyle put the ones I loved in danger.

  “I want to see him.”

  I could hear the tears in her voice.

  “We won’t get out of the car. I just want to see a part of his world.”

  I didn’t like it, but I acquiesced.

  Lucifer’s Warriors clubhouse wasn’t much to look at, a brick, single story building. There was a detached four-car garage at the back of the lot and a fence that enclosed the entire property. Motorcycles were parked in the front and muscle cars and newer model pickups in the parking lot that spanned the side. Two flags hung from the pole, the American flag and just under that their club’s flag.

  She didn’t pull her gaze from the window, hoping for a glimpse of her father.

  “Are you a bad person if you do bad things?” she asked.

  “Depends.”

  “Do you think my dad is a bad person?”

  “He gave you up to protect you, he loved your mother, honored her even in death. No, I don’t think he’s a bad person.”

  “But he’s dangerous.”

  “Yes, as is the world he lives in.”

  She reached for my hand and linked our fingers. The sadness in her eyes was so prominent but she tried for a smile. “I’m ready to go home.”

  I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss in her palm. She held that hand in her other, curled her fingers around my kiss. I couldn’t give her back her parents, but I could give her a family. One that stemmed from the kind of love her dad had for her and her mom, a selfless and powerful love. Now wasn’t the time, her heart was broken; I would do everything in my power to mend it and then I’d put my ring on her finger.

  Alexis

  “You seriously aren’t buying furniture? You’re keeping this sea of bean bags?”

  The twins moved to New York after their graduation. Their apartment was a loft in Soho. It was a great location and a great building, but they insisted on decorating like they were still in college. I loved they were here. Having family close helped ease the pain of losing my mom that still lingered and I suspected always would.

  “Why spend money on furniture. I’d rather use it for gaming systems or computers,” Dylan stated as if it were obvious. Spoken like the geeks they were. “Besides your place is so fancy, we’ll just hang with you.”

  Greyson made a sound in the back of his throat. He liked the twins, but he didn’t want them popping over whenever they wanted. We were still christening the apartment.

  “I haven’t seen your face at the checkout counter lately. What’s up with that? Did you get tired of the spotlight already?” Dominic asked.

  “Bugger off,” Greyson grumbled. “My agent wanted me to do those shoots, wanted the press. I’m done with that now.”

  “So you don’t like having beautiful women stuffing their numbers in your pocket.”

  “The only beautiful woman I want is right here.”

 
; I grinned. Good answer.

  “Yeah, yeah, we get that, but proximity my friend. You don’t want them, Dylan and I are willing to take one for the team.”

  “You’d want a woman that forward?” To me, the women seemed a bit desperate.

  “Not to marry, but to roll around in the sheets, hell yeah.”

  I stood and started for the kitchen. I was hungry. They had to have something and hopefully not shelves of Pop-Tarts. “I’m happy you have such high standards.”

  Dominic called after me, “We can’t all land a hot celebrity.”

  “Bullocks,” Greyson swore but it was drowned out by Dylan’s laughter.

  Alexis 2003

  Greyson and I were heading to Ireland. I was going to see Callum and his home, the portrait gallery and the paintings I had studied the copies of, but first we were heading home. I hadn’t seen Paige and Grant since I graduated. They were worried about me after my call to them when I first learned about my parents. I was dealing. It had been five months and each day it hurt less. They wanted to visit, I had encouraged them to, but Grant insisted Greyson and I needed the time. We’d been apart for so long, the first few months should be just us. I was glad he insisted because those months had been the happiest of my life.

  Greyson sat next to me on the plane sketching. I had yet to see that spiral ring from all those years ago, though I knew he still had it because I had seen it amongst his things when we unpacked his studio.

  “Are you ever going to let me look at the spiral ring?”

  Greyson looked up, but his mind was still on his sketch. His concentration shifted gears. “Which spiral ring?”

  “The one you were constantly working in your senior year.”

  He smiled then, a secret little smile. “Oh, that spiral ring.”

  I waited for him to say more, but instead he grinned like a fool.