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Fire In The Water

Page 8

by Janice Ross


  "Yes, really."

  "I've never had an issue with the Marlowes, not once." Pulling my fingers through my coils, I shook off the doubt.

  "Baby, I've heard his Mom. Shhh ..." She squeezed along the length of my arms. "Let me finish."

  It was at the tip of my tongue to blast what might've been the coming lies, but I bit back my own words. I held my tongue and chose to listen, for once.

  "Every event. Every function. Every opportunity. I can't stress how often I've heard them, specifically his mother, brush over your relationship with Zach. In her own words, 'Zachary will eventually get over this thing and settle down with the right girl.'"

  My insides sunk, like an arm had suddenly caught hold of my throat and was gripping like hell. Never once had they given me an ounce of doubt. "Are you sure, mom? You might not have heard her clearly."

  "Trust me, I heard every statement as if she was talking directly to me."

  "I'm not giving up on Zachary that easily. Mom, he's my knight in shining armor."

  "I know you feel that way, but what if he's not?"

  "Have you ever doubted Dad the way you try to make me doubt Zach? Real love stands up in the face of doubt. It shuts down all opposition."

  "Chanel, of course I've doubted my relationship with your father. Things weren't easy when we started dating, but the opposition didn't come from our families. Every outsider seemed to have a voice. It was perhaps the most disrespectful time of our lives. But your Grandma Bissett became the driving force behind our relationship and eventually our marriage. If it wasn't for our families, I might've said to hell with us." Mom had never opened up to me like this. The level of vulnerability and fear ejecting from her actions brought tears to my eyes.

  "So, you love Dad?"

  "Chanel, I don't know how to not love Steven. He's more than the only man for me. He's the perfect man for me in every way. That's your father and me, however. Let's turn this away from your dad and me, for the time being."

  Knowing where this was shifting, I prepared for the kicker. I took in a ridiculous amount of air and let go of even more until my head became light. I needed this comfort, the closeness of a mother-daughter bond, so I didn't blow up. Instead, I made an attempt to listen with my heart, mind, and soul.

  "Baby, as good as the years have seemed, I'm not entirely sure Zach is the one for you." She paused to allow the statement to penetrate the walls I'd always kept up. Little did she know, something had already started picking away at the one thing I'd held onto with so much pride.

  "Mom," I cried out without knowing how to proceed. If I dared mention the encounter with Rhys and the very real feelings I'd experienced from a complete stranger, this would only add fuel to the fire. "Oh, Mom." I had to hold on, hold back and bury that shit away because it was the right thing to do.

  "I've paid attention to you guys. Baby, I don't doubt your love for him, but don't be blinded by what you think is pure. Mrs. Marlowe isn't going to allow you to have her son so easily."

  "Mom, I can't worry about anyone else. He is my concern, and I'm sure he feels the same way." Running the palm of my hand down from the crown of her head along the side to rest at her chin, I felt the need to continue. "Me and Zachary made a promise a very long time ago. We're gonna ride this out to the end."

  "I don't want you to get hurt."

  "I won't."

  "I might remind you, every now and then, to find yourself," she teased, taking my fingers to her lips. I let her have that much.

  In the distance, a thin line formed along the horizon. A new day ahead, I determined to refocus on the thing that should matter. This time with my mother quickly becoming the most valuable in a long time, we sat there in silence in anticipation of a peaceful daybreak.

  One week later...

  XIII.

  Rhys

  ~

  What others called heartbreak, I saw as an ongoing nightmare. Being young enough, or like some might say–inexperienced–they thought I didn't know any better. So, after getting disappointed by the only girl I'd ever taken seriously, for a time, I rejected my friends or anyone that reminded me of my fake relationship with Maggie. They had to know I’d figured this out when they all reached out to me after my feelings were shredded, without me even saying a word.

  New York and its residents no longer called out to my soul. I wanted to head back out across the sea, find some far off place to get lost in all over again. On the other hand, this wasn't realistic. I couldn't let Maggie run me away from here, not yet at least. Instead, I embarked on a journey to discover who I really was. Yeah, what a journey of self-discovery.

  Rupert Colburn's legacy would likely be known for centuries. He was self-proclaimed New York royalty, which I couldn’t say I didn't buy into as well. As much as I wanted to distance myself from the privileges of a life in his coattails, I'd gotten used to it all.

  With nothing to do but contemplate the next stage of my life since I'd already complete undergrad at NYU, I couldn't decide what next to do with my future. I'd left my mom's an hour ago, but I didn't want to bother her with all of this future talk, especially after her ordeal. The best she could tell her twenty-three-year-old son was don't rush any decisions. For crying out loud, I was twenty-three and without a future. Thinking back over the past four weeks since we'd gotten back from traveling, I felt useless, like life was racing all around me. Everything and everyone was progressing forward, yet here I was standing still. I’d had all the ambition in the world when Maggie was a part of the equation, but no more. Either I'd truly lost all hope, or I just couldn't see past what was in front of me.

  I needed something real, to hear some hard-hitting truths that would nudge me forward. This could always be found on Wall Street.

  "What are you doing here?" Rupert didn't take too kindly to surprises, which was the reason I'd decided to show up at his office without notice. The bastard did little to hide his annoyance. A thin line spread from one end of his face to the other. Three grooves spread along his forehead as he made awkward movements behind his desk. "Rhys." He pressed to the back of a black, high-backed chair. A glistening, white button down squeezed his shoulders.

  "Rupert," I returned his blunt tone, adding a nod to one up on him.

  "Have you decided on your future?" Two fingers from his left hand flickered on a navy-blue tie, while he released a stream of air between pursed lips. His gaze reached up to reveal icy blue gray pupils, similar to mine, though his were steely. He mainly had a way of avoiding real contact with me. I wondered if I'd somehow made him uncomfortable. This was the only time he really looked me in the face; whenever he discussed my aspirations. "A role is already lined up..."

  Unbelievable! After all the crap I'd just gone through, he was still trying to force me back to the same stuff I needed out of my life. These phony ass friends of his and their twisted brats could all go to hell. Just because I was there didn't mean I wanted to be part of his world. Why couldn't he just be a father for once instead of an adviser, so distant and cold?

  "What's your problem?" Honestly, I needed to know. I grabbed two fists full of hair and yanked, not caring if I pulled any out. "Dammit."

  "Wait? What's my problem? Son, I've achieved some form of success." The smug bastard pushed up from the seat, stuck his hands out sideways and walked in an exaggerated circle. He wore the perfect navy blue tailored suit with matching tie and a white shirt. There was no doubt or question. Rupert, with cropped sides and a slightly fuller sandy-gray crown, carried his title in every manner of life. From the words he spoke to the minor actions he carried out, from the bold steps he'd always taken with clients to the cutthroat transactions of securing aggressive dealings, he earned the right to be arrogant. "Am I wrong to want you to be successful too?"

  "Successful? Me achieving anything is more about your success as a man. Your wife is miserable, but you don't care. Your son is tired of putting up a front. But no, you wear the badge of honor for the world alone. And you're good–"
>
  A beep cut into the room. For a second, the corners of his eye sockets tinged with annoyance while his administrative assistant's voice chimed in. "Excuse me, sir?"

  He held up his hand like she could actually see that move, then responded into the line. "I'm busy now, Melissa."

  "Bradley is requesting your presence in the meeting. The clients will only take your word. They said it shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

  I prepared to leave, but he grabbed my elbow without apology. We paused for a second or two while tossing testosterone back and forth.

  "Wait, I'm not done."

  "I am." I yanked my arm. His fatherhood consisted of burning flames, ready to consume those closest to him. For a man to justify his wrongs in the face of his own, he had to be twisted. Nothing was good or sacred unless he gave his blessing, but I understood him better now in this new detail. He projected his darkness onto others by belittling who they were. He formed a society out of the innocence of man in order to rob those of their light.

  "Please Rhys..." Rupert actually sounded like he wanted me to stay. Instead of barking at me this time, his pitch evened out. His eyebrows lost their arch.

  I shrugged and took a seat close to the wide desk just as he left. In the distance, out of the fifteenth-story view from the full-wall window, I couldn't help but marvel at the vast structures out in the open. When you've surrounded yourself in a city of dreamers, you had no choice but to join in. No matter the profession, Corporate America made many envious of the thrill. Money, power, and success were capable of pushing an innocent dreamer into the race. And who or what did they chase down? The man, the lifestyle and the ideologies of Rupert Fitzgerald Colburn.

  To hell with that. I chased nothing and no one.

  The room was too quiet. It forced me to think about everything I'd kept hidden under noises swarming through my subconscious mind. I feared the path ahead. Being a Colburn held certain assurances that I'm not sure I was capable of owning up to. I could leave, disassociate myself from my roots. Yet being hopeless or having a future that led nowhere was fucking depressing too. I don't care how much more you had; if you're broken, you're fucking broken. Hell, if you're sad, you're fucking sad. If you're empty, you're god-damn empty. Money would only mask that. And with a father like Rupert, he wouldn't let me live down any of that shit.

  An electronic type noise caught my attention followed by a vibration. At first I couldn't tell, so I followed the buzzing to the opposite side of the desk. I opened the left side drawer to see an old model smart phone.

  The vibration stopped.

  After ten seconds, it started all over again. On the screen, "Sarah" flashed, and there was a picture of a blonde with a big smile and two young kids. Their eyes were bright. I spent the time admiring the family until the buzzing stopped again.

  This time I called back. My mind told me this was beyond questionable.

  "Helllloooo?" A cheery female voice sang into the line.

  I yanked it away from my ear and cut it off. Who the hell was that? I mulled over the thought. But when the phone vibrated in my hand shortly after, I finally answered.

  "What's going on, sweetheart? Wait. Don't answer that. The kids just wanted to talk to their dad. Here... Here…"

  Kids?

  Dad?

  Heat rushed over my body, burning wild inside of my gut. The sun almost doubled in effect as it rushed through the vast corner office window. The object nearly slipped from my fingers. Images of the past day–Lisle's pleading orbs, echoes of my life–Rupert's blaring condemnations. The puppet master was a fucking fraud! There's no other explanation.

  Rupert had a secret phone.

  Check.

  Rupert was someone's sweetheart when he was already married to my Lisle.

  Check.

  Rupert was someone else's father when he was only supposed to be a father to me.

  Check.

  And to solidify things even more, the kids giggling into the other end of the line were young. Dammit, I'm talking maybe just past bottles and training wheels young. I couldn't be entirely sure about an age, but they weren't anywhere close to mine. Shouldn't I have known if my father had younger kids? Shit, come to think of it, there shouldn't be any younger kids!

  What the fuck is this?

  I tossed the piece of crap phone down on the desk and headed for the door. He appeared as my hand reached for the doorknob.

  "Rhys, I asked–"

  "You're so up on your shit, aren't you?" I screamed out, shaking so much that the blood vessels in my head started throbbing like hell.

  He forced his way in, turning back to look at his associates who were all ready for action at this point. His hands went to my shoulders. He actually tried to handle me by wrapping fingers along my shoulders and pressing down.

  I shook, thrusting completely out of the grip.

  "Are you on something?" My deceptive, piece of crap father spat out the words, all self-righteous and shit. Looking into his eyes was like staring into my own. I hated to belong, or be close in anyway. But here I was, having to come to terms with a self-righteous bastard who reigned down judgment on everyone else, even when he was riding a high horse to hell.

  "Am I what?" I took a giant step back, then spread my hands out. "You–"

  "Mr. Colburn, we need you again." His assistant pushed into our conversation. From the way her usually porcelain cheeks blinked red, I had a feeling this might've been his getaway card.

  "Give me a couple of minutes, Melissa." He waved her to the side. His voice pissed me off more than ever. It pained me to hear him control others like this.

  Control.

  His world.

  Those were the two things he stood for and we were all at his mercy.

  "Actually, the client isn't willing to wait." Melissa stuck out a leg through the doorway. She wore a light gray, knee-length skirt suit, seeming bolder than I'd ever noticed before.

  "Rhys, take a seat. We need to finish this conversation."

  "Finish this conversation?" I'd gotten my fill of him, his conversations, and any remote connection to Rupert Colburn.

  "Yes." He left and shut the door behind him without waiting for my reply.

  I didn't hear it when he was still in there, yet the damn vibrating had started again. My insides were on fire. I wanted to trash the office, starting with the damn phone.

  Shit, my mom believed she wasn't good enough for this bastard. I refused to let things pan out to where he'd get a damn happily ever after.

  So I snatched up the phone and saved the number in mine. Rupert came back in just as I was trying to put the phone back into his desk.

  "What are you doing?" He secured the door behind him. His face burned red.

  "Actually, Dad–" I grabbed it from off the drawer and stormed over to shove it in his face. "What are you doing?"

  The way his entire face changed confirmed everything. Gone was the pompous snarl. He now sported an out of the norm, goofy blend. He had always been the puppet master, in charge of everyone's past, present and future. But now, finding out that the master of everyone's universe was a lousy piece of crap did something to me. Honestly, how does anyone cope knowing that they had been deceived by the most important person in the world to them? He had emotionally ruined my mother, and now this. No...no, I couldn't stand for this to happen. He wouldn't get to break my mother and not reap any type of consequence. I needed to take the strings of control. This puppet master's strings were getting clipped.

  XIV.

  Rhys

  ~

  I knew I shouldn't hate her, but I did. Maybe my father wasn't straight up with things or maybe she didn't know he had a real family. No, it was premature to hate her right away. She took up a spot in my mind. One I'd reserved for peace. In a way, hating Sarah suddenly became my therapy. I let go of my Maggie hatred in exchange for a new mark. It rode me for about three days, then I started investigating the phone number and tracked her down to a luxury building only
minutes away from Maggie's, in the city.

  In the morning rush, I observed for several minutes until this perfect chick exited the building. I had to admit, although the picture on the phone had hinted at her beauty, she was drop dead gorgeous. She had soft eyes, which she easily flashed at everyone who greeted her. This was New York, but this chick moved through the place like it was her domain. The way she held her kids' hands, walked like eggshells covered the ground, or how just about every guy had no choice but to crave...Sarah appeared perfect.

  After dropping her kids off–twins, a boy and a girl–at a local center featuring activities and music, I followed closer along. The wind carried her fragrance to me. Yeah, I was that close. Never imagined myself to be a stalker, yet here I was creeping behind Rupert's slut.

  Then she took off jogging through the crowds. Her form was immaculate with muscular curves and flowing hair. Would’ve been too obvious to trail her by running just then, so I turned around. Every thought, every emotion rode the hell out of me. My parents had raised me to be strong, but damn. I felt beaten, like I could literally just take off running like that home wrecker had just done. Without even realizing it, my speed picked up. I was headed in the opposite direction, far away from the bullshit.

  Warm, harsh breezes slammed into my face as my Nikes smashed onto the pavement. I had to dodge through and around city goers. These bastards were going about their day like not a damn thing was going on outside of them. Shit, to hell with me. My mother's heart was about to be broken over this bullshit. Yet these fuckers in their expensive suits, pretentious expressions and important roles were too selfish to see the hurt breezing by them right there.

  I didn't have an aim, didn't have a planned destination, at least not until I arrived, right there, midway up the block. I slammed down my foot one last time, doubled over and allowed my breathing to settle. The veins pulsed so much that I could hear them contract. When I stood up straight again, my heart pounded at the sight of Maggie's building. It was no longer mine. I hadn’t gone back there since the episode. Doubling back over, I wanted to drop to the ground and lay there so that when she came out, she'd see how much she'd fucked up my life.

 

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