by Debbie Civil
Chapter 16
One would think that I wouldn’t notice that no one is here. But the emptiness just closes around me as we enter the house. The lights are on, which means that someone is here to clean. Since the cook has the day off, dinner is my responsibility. Grandmother sees this as a potential problem. Would the woman be scandalized by the fact that Mom and Dad rarely ever cooked? Gasp! I had to take on the role.
“Where to?” Peter asks as he drags the luggage.
“To my room. After I unpack we can order a few pizzas,” I offer. Nathan objects.
“After realizing how Carmen really feels, I don’t think I want anything your Grandmother buys,” he admits bluntly. His dark eyes are filled with a mixture of hurt and disgust. That makes a twinge of regret spread through me. Maybe telling Eliza and Nathan hadn’t been the wisest move. If Carmen and I were ever to make up, it would be awkward whenever we hung out. This can pose a problem in the future.
“We can go to the diner,” Peter suggests. Malcolm and Nathan nod.
“I just want to stay in,” I wine, before thinking better of it. Peter frowns. Apparently, he doesn’t like the idea of being here either.
“Chelsea, Sweetheart, I don’t think I could eat any your grandmother’s food either. It’s clear that Carmen has a problem with us,” he says.
“Guys, she’s in my position. Carmen is a trust fund baby. Why should we care what she thinks?” Everyone looks uncomfortable. Peter nods and Nathan and Malcolm leave without as much as a goodbye. When we are alone, Peter looks at his feet.
“Chelsea,” he begins, before running his fingers through his hair. I start to feel uneasy as his eyes refuse to meet mine.
“What?”
“Look, I love you. You know that,” he pleads. “But I can't be with you. Chelsea, Adam is dangerous and…” Fury pulses to the surface. Adam. Peter is breaking up with me because he’s afraid of Adam?
“So you’re a coward! You’re not man enough to stand up to some street thugs?” Peter never loses his temper. And let me just say, it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.
“Chelsea, it’s not about me. I can’t expect Malcolm, Nathan, and Craig to fight my battles. It’s clear that Adam will hurt anyone related to me. I’m not afraid of him. I just don’t want any trouble,” he snaps in a low controlled voice.
“So, in other words, I’m not worth fighting for,” I shout. Peter’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head. My heart is breaking into shreds. Anger is all I have left. It’s the only reason why I’m not on the floor weeping hysterically.
“You are worth fighting for, Chelsea. But this isn’t about us. This is about my family. Why should they fight for you?” he reasons. And what Peter says is making sense. But I’m too angry to process it. How dare he open me up to love then take it all away? Why is he doing this? At this moment, I’ve never been angrier than I am right now. My hands are shaking and my head is pounding. Without thought, I slap him across the face. Peter has to be feeling what I am. He needs to understand the damage that he has done. How could he do this to me? When I need him most, he dumps me.
“Chelsea, stop,” he orders. He isn’t even yelling. That guy must be a saint. For his softness, I slap him again and again. Finally, he reacts by shoving me against the wall and holds my wrists over my head. His body is warm and his scent fills my nose. He’s so close that our breath is mingling. I have the urge to kiss him. But then reality hits, he isn’t mine anymore.
“Chelsea,” he whispers.
“Stop, don’t talk to me.” The words come out weak and fragile. That pisses me off because I’m stronger than this. All I have to do is knee him and Peter would be flat on the ground. But my angry mind somehow doesn’t have control of my body.
“Peter, I’m sorry. I want to be with you. I just don’t… Adam is much more dangerous than you think he is,” Peter admits.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, wanting to slap him again.
“Chelsea, if he wants your money, he will get it. Then, you’ll give it to him and he will demand more of it. He runs with dangerous people. I… I don’t want my brothers to get caught up in this,” he pleads.
“What about me?” My selfish question looks to have broken through his composure of calm.
“I hope you do the smart thing and ask your Grandmother what to do. We are powerless, Chelsea. Maybe she’ll have other ideas,” Peter suggests. Adam is on probation. If he commits one more offense, it’s back to jail for him. All I have to do is make sure he is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Peter is right. He will get dragged into this if we stay together. Maybe, after the whole plan is set in motion, we can talk about a relationship. But now, he has to leave so that I can figure out how to get Adam into trouble. The obvious choice would be to tell him that I want him back. Maybe, we could throw a party, alcohol will definitely be present. He will drink then the cops will break up the party. Everyone else would get slaps on the wrist, but Adam would go to jail. Now, that sounds like a plan. But, that would mean getting close to the person that I accidentally stabbed with a knife. He would be furious. Adam always had a nasty temper.
“Maybe,” I say. “I understand why you have to keep your distance. But…” I choose my words carefully. “Do you really have to break up with me?” Peter’s dark eyes fill with indecision. He doesn’t want us to be over. That much is clear. He sighs and presses his forehead to mine.
“Chelsea, I have the feeling that you are about to do something reckless,” he mutters. And that’s why I love Peter so much. He knows me so well.
“I’m not going to let Adam take you away from me,” I tell him softly. Peter releases my hands and does something that is so out of character. He kisses me with passion so hot, I feel like I’m going to combust. My arms wrap around his neck as his lips move from mine and he trails gentle kisses from my cheek bone to the side of my neck. He makes his way back to my lips and he slides his tongue into my mouth and slowly engages me. His hands are on my hips and he’s as close to me as possible. But it’s clear that he wants to be closer. For the first time, I think about how nice it would be to feel that close to someone. Adam didn’t treat me so gently. So it never occurred to me to take the next step with him. Besides, Mom and Dad were strict and never let me come over Adam’s house without being certain that Mr. Smith was home. But now, we have a mansion all to ourselves. Peter loves me. That is obviously true. But, he doesn’t have any attachments to me. Even if I get rid of Adam, what’s going to stop him from dating someone else? He’s emotional. There is no way that he would be able to forget me after something like that.
“Chelsea,” Peter gasps as he pulls away. For some reason, it is then that I see the hand print on his beautiful face. On instinct I step on my tip-toes and kiss him right where I had slapped him. He shutters at the contact.
“Why did you stop?” I ask. Peter rubs his head and groans.
“Chelsea, I…” “Chelsea, have you ever…”
“No,” I say quickly, making Peter sigh.
“Me either,” he confesses. That causes me to giggle.
“Seriously? You’re a guy.”
“A guy that had cancer. I had more important things to worry about, like living,” he points out.
“Oh,” I say feeling foolish.
“Chelsea, I don’t want to give you up. In fact, I want to figure out how this can work. Just call your grandmother and figure something out,” he says. “Because no matter how much we beat Adam up, he’s desperate for your money. He will do anything,” Peter tells me before kissing me lightly on the lips.
“You’re heading out?” I ask.
“Yes. I’ve kept them waiting long enough,” he laughs. I wrap my arms around him, feeling glad that we’ve resolved things. Then, he kisses me one more time before leaving.
I don’t want to call Grandmother. After all, she’s the reason why I’m in this mess. That’s what I decide as I make myself a salami and cheese sandwich with extra mustard. The
kitchen is huge with granite counter tops and too many appliances. The towering black refrigerator is stocked well. As much as I itch to use the stove, fatigue begs me to just make a sandwich and pilfer a bag of chips from the pantry, which is the size of a walk in closet.
After eating, I rush up to my room and notice something odd. My Mac is missing. It had last been on my desk. That is beyond frustrating. Maybe Eliza borrowed it. I dig my Iphone out of my purse and dial her number as I prepare my bath.
“What’s up,” Eliza sings.
“Hi. Did you borrow my Mac?” I hear a pause and somehow feel relieved by that. Maybe she’s afraid of answering yes.
“You’re what?”
“My MacBook,” I say.
“Oh, I thought you said you’re ax,” she giggles.
“No, I said Mac,” I reply, sounding a bit testy.
“No. Why?” Her response doesn’t really bother me. Out of everyone, she is the most likely to borrow and ask later. However, that doesn’t mean that Carmen or Danny hadn’t borrowed it.
“Can you ask the girls if they borrowed it?” I ask. She says she will then we hang up. I have just settled in the nice hot bath when the phone rings. I look at it and see Eliza’s name pop up on the display and answer.
“None of us borrowed your Mac,” Eliza says. She sounds a bit concerned.
“Maybe I lost it,” I offer weakly. That's not even logical considering the computer hasn’t moved from my desk since the first day Uncle Eric had placed it there.
“Maybe one of the maids stole it,” Eliza suggests pointedly. “Think about it, Chelsea, with us out of the way, it’s much easier for them to steal,” Eliza reasons.
“I…”
“Just check our rooms to make sure nothing is out of the ordinary,” Eliza suggests.
“I won’t know if anything’s missing,” I argue.
“Just check. I’m sure you’ll notice if something’s out of the ordinary,” Eliza muses.
“Maybe. I’m taking a bath, though. Maybe afterward,” I say.
“So, are you all right?” she randomly asks. I frown at the bathroom wall as if it was the one that asked the question.
“What would make you think that I’m not?” I slowly ask.
“Nathan told me about the fight. Are you going to give him the money?” Eliza demands.
“No,” I say, knowing that she probably won’t be the one to come up with a good plan. Carmen is the sneaky one. It’s too bad that we aren’t speaking right now or else she would have given me good ideas.
“Then, what are you going to do?” Eliza asks. I sigh.
“Tell Grandmother. She’ll know what to do,” I say, knowing that she’ll probably report back to Nathan.
“She will. With one of her connections, Adam will back off in no time,” she assures me. It seems like Eliza is relieved that her boyfriend won’t have a run in with one of Adam’s friends. I’m pretty sure that Nathan could handle himself in a fight. Though, I do get why hearing that someone that she cares about has the potential to be harmed would put her on edge. I at this moment am worried about Peter.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say.
“I won’t. Grandma will take care of everything,” Eliza assures me. I want to tell her that she shouldn’t have so much faith in a woman that abandoned her own son, but the argument would only fall on deaf ears.
“I’ll talk to you after I check the rooms,” I assure Eliza. She tells me that she loves me and hangs up. After my bath, it’s evident that the room explorations have to happen tomorrow. I’m sore, exhausted, and anxious. Despite Peter saying that he loves me, he doesn’t call to say goodnight. Instead, he shoots me a text. Is he ignoring me? Maybe he hopes to put some distance between us. Does that boy really think that speaking to me less would reduce the amount of feelings that he has? He’s surely mistaken, I decide as I slip into bed.
My phone wakes me up. I want to ignore the call but decide against it when I see that it’s an unfamiliar number. Deep down inside, I know that it’s Adam. It’s odd the new effect he has on me. My hands shiver as I hit answer.
“Chelsea?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Listen to me,” Adam pleads. “I need you to bail me out of jail.” So Adam is in jail, how touching! This is the best morning ever. One minute, he's threatening to hurt Peter, the next, he’s behind bars.
“What happened?” I ask sitting up.
“I… Nothing… Chelsea, do you still love me?” Adam asks.
“No. I love Peter,” I confess. And I’m being perfectly honest when I say that telling him the truth feel satisfying.
“Listen, I’m in a lot of trouble, right now. I’m sorry for what I did yesterday. I’m desperate,” Adam pleads. “So is Ivy. The twenty-five thousand dollars isn’t going to help me anymore. I need more.” I won’t help him. After what happened yesterday, the idiot has to know that. But I have to be careful about my answer. Those guys could attack Peter.
“Adam, I can’t bail you out of jail. I don’t have a car,” I say, thanking God that my car is currently sitting in the car dealership parking lot.
“Oh. Right. Well, I’ll see if someone else can bail me out. But when I’m out, we need to talk, Chelsea,” Adam assures before hanging up. Well, now, let’s deliver the great news to Peter. Right before I call Peter, Eliza texts me.
“Hey, girl, don’t forget to check the rooms.” Of course, that chore had slipped my mind. Figuring that I could talk to Peter and walk at the same time, I slide out of bed, put on a pair of flip-flops and make my way down the hall.
“Chelsea… I…”
“I have some great news,” I say as I walk over to Eliza’s room. Surprise, her room is spotless and I have no clue if anything is missing.
“What?” he asks.
“Adam is in jail. And no one is going to be able to bail him out. He isn’t going to cause trouble for us anymore. Well, I hope.”
“That’s too bad,” Peter mutters.
“What?”
“Chelsea, Adam’s in jail. That’s rough. First he lost his father, now he’s stuck behind bars. That must blow,” he tells me. But I can’t bring myself to feel guilty. Adam tried to coerce money out of me. Who does that? Seriously, all he had to do was ask. If Adam had told me what was going on, maybe, I would have lent him the money.
“He’s in prison because of the choices he made, Peter. I can’t feel bad for him,” I say as I walk into Carmen’s room and pause.
“Chelsea, you used to love him. Don’t you feel the least horrible for how his life turned out?” Peter asks.
“No!” I shriek.
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I just…” The stench is overpowering. The sight makes me want to vomit. I can’t feel my legs. Literally they give out from under me and I crumple.
“Peter!” I cry softly.
“Chelsea, what’s going on?” Why? Why did this happen to someone as lovely as Amy.
“I found my Mac,” I tell Peter softly.
“Your Mac book was missing?” he asks. Tears blur my eyes as I take it all in. Carmen’s room is a disaster with drawers torn out of the dressers, clothes and papers everywhere. Someone had sliced the mattress in a few places. Her beautiful aquamarine- colored comforter is balled up on the ground right next to the lifeless decaying body of Amy, the one servant that had been so warm to me.
“Amy’s dead,” I cry into the phone. “Oh Peter, Amy’s dead.”