by Maryann Reid
If I only knew that was all I had to do, Blake said to herself as she shook her head.
“So you ain’t gonna tell me?” Kenton still eyed her curiously, inching closer to her.
She inched back. “Nope,” she said, picking up her bag. She gave him a light kiss on the lips. “I’m gonna say good-bye to Lionel. Then,” she said, brushing his neck with her fingers,” when I see you tomorrow, you’ll forget these silly questions, and I’ll forget to answer them. Okay?”
He nodded and looked at her like a puppy in distress. “Good,” she said, planting another kiss on his lips. This one was decidedly more intense than the first. She wanted to stay, in his bed, but she wasn’t quite ready yet.
“Good night, Lionel, I’ll see you next weekend,” Blake, said, creeping her son’s bedroom door open. She walked in and hugged him tightly.
Lionel looked up, tight coils of hair covering his head. He put his pen down, hugged her back. Each time his hug got a little tighter. He smiled widely and nodded, “Good night, Mommy,” he said, and turned back to his book.
Mommy. Blake’s heart warmed as she closed the door softly and stood there like she never wanted to leave.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
October 5
Miami, Florida
“Will your phone ever stop ringing?” Margot laughed as she sat in Blake’s Miami Beach office.
“What can I say? The world is happy that I am back in business. But it sure as hell wasn’t without a cost.” Blake put her phone back in her bag, but no sooner had she done that when a text message came through. She reminded herself to check it later. She had been receiving a flurry of texts, too, from old and prospective clients. Everyone was ready to do business with her again.
“I lost money. Time is money in this business,” Blake said, leaning back on her chair. “But that means nothing to me. I’m glad to have my name back, and all. However, I did have some time to think. I need to reinvent myself. I don’t want to be in this business forever. You see, the wolves come at the door every so often, and I am tired of fighting the wolves—”
“Not you, Blake,” Margot said, shaking her head playfully. “Ms. Queen of Fixing. You are more than equipped to handle this.”
Blake stayed silent and rested her chin in her hands. “Maybe, but does that mean I should keep doing this? I can use those skills in anything. Damn it, instead of buying up the real estate on a Caribbean island, maybe I just want to lie on the island?! Can I lie on the island sipping a Mai Tai on the beach, Margot?”
Margot laughed at Blake, who smiled sarcastically imagining herself lounging on a beach chair. “Well, honey. Come to think of it, you don’t take vacations. You are the hardest-working woman I know. So, what’s the plan, then?”
“I don’t know yet. I may finish up this Wishman Spears deal now and think about that later. Margot, since we haven’t spoken, there is a lot of stuff you missed.” Blake looked over Margot’s shoulder and signaled to her assistant to hold any calls. “I have a son.” Blake filled Margot in on Lionel, his recitals, visiting him in secret, and her “growing” friendship with Kenton.
Margot’s mouth hung open the entire time.
“I want to get to know Lionel, like a mother, and—Kenton too.”
“So you’re a mommy?” Margot smiled warmly.
“Not a real mommy, but a mother. I want to be a real mommy.”
“You are, dear.” Margot touched her hand. “You are.”
“I fought to keep my empire together for me, and for Lionel. This is my legacy for my son. I won’t let anyone rip that away from me.”
“And Kenton?”
Blake blushed.
“Ooh, girl, did you sleep with him?”
“Not yet,” Blake gushed. “He is handsome, kind, sexy, and the adoptive father of my son. I mean, I couldn’t make this up! The powers that be brought us together somehow for some reason.”
“Well, the reason is obviously for you to be back in Lionel’s life.”
“Right, I just didn’t expect a man to come with the package, you know?”
Margot sighed. “You got a two-for-one deal. Not many women would complain.”
“You know my track record with men. Brett? Lang? Not good,” Blake, turning down the corners of her mouth. “Bad.”
“This is different,” Margot said, raising her chin. “Maybe this is your chance to fix those wrongs. I say give the man some!”
Blake laughed out loud, as Margot sat straight-faced. She was serious.
“And you and Thomas?” Blake asked.
Margot waved her hand like she was batting a fly. “That chick took that check quicker than a crackhead taking a five-dollar bill.”
Blake eyes widened, and she said, “I’m not gonna ask how much.”
“She was cheaper than I thought.”
“Hmm.” Blake nodded, surprised that Robin didn’t push for more.
“We have an agreement that we can raise the child, no visitations. She was more than willing to comply. But I’m not surprised, I knew she was a coldhearted bitch.”
“I’m proud of you, Margot. Has Thomas moved back in yet?”
“We’re working on it,” she said, slowly. Then her eyes lit up. “I hired an interior designer for the baby’s room.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Blake said, hearing her phone buzz again for another message.
#
Later, Blake and Kenton were walking on the lawn surrounding her home under the warm evening glow of the moon.
“Dinner was bad, as in good,” Kenton grinned as they climbed the steps to go back inside. “How did you know I love seafood?”
“What Black man doesn’t,” Blake laughed, her hair slightly damp from the humidity. She tucked it behind her ear.
“I love it when you do that. Let me help.” He tucked the hair on the other side behind her ear, tracing his fingers down the nape of her neck, until his hands gripped her in an embrace.
She took a deep breath.
“I can fall in love with you, Ms. Bertrand,” Kenton whispered in her ear.
She hit him playfully, swinging her head back. “I thought you already were!”
He kept a serious face. “I am.”
“Am?”
“I love you,” he said, his eyes watering slightly. “Sorry, don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“Too late for that.” Blake said against his lips, inhaling his vanilla-scented cologne.
“I love you,” he whispered repeatedly in her ear.
She walked Kenton inside her home, and still holding each other, they giggled like school kids as they misstepped to the bedroom.
Blake closed the door and laid Kenton down. She slipped off her turquoise silk maxi dress to reveal nothing but skin underneath. There was just enough light in the room to touch her curves. She stood there letting Kenton’s eyes canvass her taut, fit body. She completely owned the moment, and his lips formed a smile. Finally, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed his clothes to the side.
Blake studied the gift that saluted her, and finally climbed into bed with him. She led his hands to her breasts. He kneaded her nipples between his fingers and brought them to his mouth. “Mmmm,” he moaned like a child digging into a moist chocolate cake. Blake collapsed on her back, and Kenton lowered his long, lean body on top of hers. His lips lingered around the edges of her neck and shoulders. He took his time inching down to her breasts, closing his mouth over her hardened nipples. He moved down to her soft stomach and inner thighs, brushing his tongue against her moistness. Then he mounted her thighs around his shoulders and lost himself between them.
Blake pressed her hips into him, feeling her insides soften and melt in his mouth. She gently grabbed his head with one hand. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begged him until she erupted with the kind of pleasure she only had in her dreams.
“Jezzzus,” she called out as he filled her up, sliding inside her with a thrust that landed perfectly. Their bodies slick with sweat, the ma
ngled mix of his cologne and sweat in the air, Kenton rocked her with a gentle steadiness. He didn’t want it to end, and neither did she. They kissed as he moved inside her, holding his body up with his hands and burying his hips into her. He didn’t take his eyes off Blake for a second as she gripped his muscled shoulders. A tattoo on his upper arm, with a symbol that looked like a weapon of sorts with the words “God’s Angel,” stared back at her.
Overwhelmed, Blake was. She didn’t know what to expect from Kenton anymore. But one thing she was sure of. He was no angel in the bedroom.
Chapter Forty
November 9
New York, New York
The following month, Blake headed back to New York. She brought her mother with her for company. She still was getting used to flying alone without Suki and the rest of her team. She missed them.
In the living room of her condo, she watched her mom finish a light work of Pilates.
“Two months ago, I couldn’t lift my leg to get in the shower. Check me out now?” Her mother put her arms out and did a slow turn.
Blake clapped from across the room as she handed a towel to her mom, who was no Pilates expert. But she was still relieved to see her perform the subtle moves the physical therapist recommended.
They sat at the dining table, and Blake made her mom a plate of smoked salmon, fried eggs, and toast. Blake was skipping a full breakfast this morning.
“You know, mija, you should think of doing the Pilates,” Jacinta said, chewing on a piece of toast. “You don’t sweat.”
Blake laughed and said, “I like sweating when I work out. In fact, I’m going for a run in the park after I finish this banana.”
“Eww, and you come back all sweaty and stinky?” Jacinta held her nose.
Blake rolled her eyes. “Sweat detoxifies the body.”
“Well, I’m clean, I don’t need detox. You kids come up with the craziest things.” Jacinta cut into a delicate slice of smoked salmon as she spoke, and as wrong as her mom was, she was just happy she was there.
Ten minutes later Blake was out the door, on a jog she hadn’t done in months. She was determined to get her stride back. With Kenton and Lionel in her life practically full time, she needed to keep her space and meet her own needs when she could.
She ran about a quarter mile, inhaling the crisp cool air and whisking past the trees, strollers, and pedestrians, who mostly seemed to be going in the opposite direction. She recognized no one. Years ago when she started jogging, she’d look forward to the familiar faces on her path. It told her she was on schedule and part of something that was improving her life. I have to do this more often, Blake told herself, slowing down her pace when she heard her name called from behind. She stopped, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and spun around.
“Think you’re the only one who cares about looking good these days?” Lang said, dressed in gray sweats.
Blake began running again. She wanted to disappear from Lang’s sight, but he strode right alongside her.
“Can we talk?” he asked, looking at her in between breaths. His hair was matted from sweat already, and it had only been a few minutes.
“Hell to the fucking no,” Blake said, calmly, changing directions, hoping he would get the hint. He disappeared. Blake hopped back on her usual route that led to her apartment. She dug in her fanny pack for her phone to call and check on her mother, when she realized she forgot it.
“Oh, damn, shit!” Blake shouted. She had only gone without her phone twice in the last seven years. “Shit!” Her runner’s high diminished as her long, graceful strides turned into sputtered steps. She took a few swigs of her water, looked around, and decided to walk home. It was only fifteen minutes away, she thought. The crinkly leaves beneath her feet made her smile, and she relaxed into her new walking pace.
As she approached the Ramble that led to the side of the park closest to her apartment, Lang appeared. He blocked her path.
She took a step back, jaw and fists clenched. A metallic taste grew in her mouth. One two three. What would Suki do? One two three. She thought that there was no way she could muster up in seconds what took Suki years to master or go toe-to-toe with a two hundred–pound man.
Lang stared at her with hollow, cold eyes. His nostrils flared with each hefty breath.
Blake whirled around to run back, but he grabbed her by the neck and stopped her breath.
“Bitch, I’ve been wanting you all to myself. You think you can get rid of me, do you?” Lang stared into her eyes.
Blake still couldn’t breathe. Her hands grasped at his around her neck, scratching him so hard, he bled. He let her go and pushed her to the ground, but Blake wasn’t giving up. She remembered a move Suki had taught her about the correct way to stand after a fall with the least chance of getting hit. She put her foot on the ground, the other knee down, and lifted her arm to guard against Lang’s wing at her head with his foot. She lifted her hips up and threw the hardest kick she could get out into Lang’s knee. With Lang bent over in pain, she put her arms up for defense.
Lang pulled out a knife, grabbed her, and traced it down the bridge of her nose. “After I’m done with you, you’ll never want to look in the mirror again, bitch,” he said, spit gathering at the corners of his lips. He threw her to the ground and climbed on top.
Tears flowed from Blake’s eyes as she lay frozen. With her free hands, she dove her fingers straight into Lang’s eyes, remembering that Suki had told her to “think of digging dirt.” The pain caused Lang to drop the knife as he brought his hands to his face. She got up to run, but he grabbed her by the leg and pounced on her again, busting her lip open.
“I still see you got that fight in you. But what if I told you something that would make you wish you were dead?”
Blake’s face was matted with blood, and her body was pressed into the dirt by his weight. Her heart raced as she thought about what to do.
He grinded his hips into her and whispered in her ear, “Lionel.”
Blake cried out. “Don’t you fuck with him!”
Lang pressed his lips into her ear. “Remember that night I took you in the dark? When am I gonna see my son, bitch?!”
Blake didn’t know what came over her, but she wrapped her legs around Lang. With all her might, she managed to flip them both over. She rolled off him, but he reached for her again. Kicking him in the face, she rose on her feet. She wasn’t running anymore, she thought. “You raped me! It was you?!” Blake felt her mind draw black. Everything turned off. Lang, hobbling back and forth with his bloody face. She in the woods, with her world crashing down on her.
Lang charged at Blake until they both rolled on the ground. He pinned her down, and as she kicked and spat at him, he pulled out the knife again and swung it at her. She moved her face quickly enough, grabbed a loose rock, and smashed his head. He rolled over in pain, still calling toward her. Blake still crying, saw a gun.
Blake found another rock and pounded it into Lang’s head until he stopped moving.
She looked up at the sky, fell on her knees, and screamed the loudest she could from her soul.
Chapter Forty-One
November 10
New York, New York
Blake lay in the hospital, wrapped from head to toe. She was being cared for in the psychiatric section. When she looked up from her bed, she saw all the people who mattered to her. Kenton, her mother, Lionel, Margot—even Suki.
“I wanna die,” Blake cried, her body in such pain she could barely move a muscle.
“Honey, no,” Margot said. She put her hand on Blake’s forehead. “You will be fine, Blake. What happened to you shouldn’t have happened to anyone. You will get past this, we all will.”
“I wanted to kill his ass, but you beat me to it, Boss,” Suki said, straight-faced as everyone shifted their feet at the iciness in her voice.
Blake managed a grunt of acknowledgment, then it dawned on her. No one could really look at her, not even her mother.
“
He’s dead?” Blake said in a low, tired voice. “I killed someone?”
Kenton leaned in close to her. “Don’t speak. We are taking care of everything. Don’t try to remember anything. No charges will be filed.”
“Charges?” Blake said, looking alarmed. She looked at Jacinta, who sat in a corner of the room, rocking her body back and forth while she said the rosary in Spanish.
Everyone’s eyes landed on Blake.
“Lang passed away a few hours ago,” Kenton said, plainly.
“Lionel,” Blake said, feeling the full impact of the moment as she brushed her son’s face with her hand.
She closed her eyes again, as if she wanted to disappear and never return. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“That’s why it’s self-defense. You were protecting yourself.”
Blake felt empty. Dead inside herself. Something told her that Lang had taken enough from her, and he had almost taken her with him. She was still alive, her second chance to make things right in her life again.
“God forgive me,” Blake cried out. “Please forgive me!”
Lionel sat quietly, looking at Blake. She stared at him, searching for words.
“Do you want him to leave?” Kenton asked.
“No, he can be here. He should know what happened.”
“Lionel,” Blake said, doing her best to sit up in the bed with Kenton’s help. “Lang was your father. I’m sorry,” she said, reading the saddened look on his face. She took a deep swallow. “Lang raped me many years ago, and you were born. You are my greatest gift, and I hope you—”