And then, inevitably, she would ask for money. If Helena didn’t hand it over, her mother would scream, rail and threaten her until she managed to flee in a fit of tears. It was perverse, but even after twenty two years of abuse, Helena still liked to hold out hope that one day her mother would change. That they would be close in a way they never had. Of course, such a thing had never happened.
And it wasn’t going to happen today.
Her heart immediately beginning to pound, Helena gazed over her mother’s haggard form. Her stained white t-shirt barely covered her thin torso. Janette’s daughter could see her ribs poking through the thin material. Her jeans had numerous holes in them – none of which were for the sake of fashion. She wore tattered flip flops on her feet and her ebony skin, once smooth and lustrous, was covered with needle marks and scars. The smile she wore was full of rotten teeth, and at the sight of them, Helena cringed.
She’d gotten worse.
There had been a time when Janette still thought about taking care of herself. She had spent more of her money on her hair, nails and clothes she couldn’t afford instead of her more healthy addictions. However, it seemed as though those days were long past.
No matter how many times Helena faced her mother, it never got any easier. Since she’d started college, their meetings had been few and far between. The young woman spent most of her time on campus and security was such that very few visitors got in unannounced.
It was clear that, somehow, Janette had accomplished the feat.
Clearing her throat, Helena tried to force a greeting past her lips. Even as she did, her eyes darted around, looking for anyone who might see them together. The young woman didn’t have much of a reputation on campus, but many knew who her father was. For the sake of his good name and her own studies, she tried to pretend that she didn’t have a mother most of the time – and it worked.
Or, at least, it had.
“Hi, Momma.” Her voice was surprisingly steady, even if inwardly she shook like a leaf.
“Baby.” Janette Freeman’s voice was hoarse, dry and parched. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been trying to contact you. Did you get my calls?”
Of course she had. And Helena had ignored each and every one of them. It was easier for her to refuse her mother what she asked if she never spoke to her.
“I’m sorry, Momma. I’ve been busy.” She forced the words out before bending to begin to pick her books up from the sidewalk. At this juncture, she was late for her tutoring session, but for a moment, the thought had been pushed to the back of her mind. Of course, her mother didn’t move to help her pick up her things. Instead, she took a step forward, her arms outstretched.
“Don’t you have a hug for your momma? I haven’t seen you in so long, Helena. I miss you.’
More like she missed her fix.
Straightening with her materials in hand, Helena took a steadying breath. She could smell her mother even from three feet away, and she didn’t particularly want to hug her. Doing so would open up an entirely different can of worms that she didn’t know if she could deal with at this juncture. She had an immense test that she had to prepare for and she was already under a lot of pressure. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a rush. I’m late for a class.”
Almost instantly, Janette’s expression turned from warm and welcoming to outrage. Her arms dropped and she scowled, color rushing to her cheeks. “Don’t have time for your Ma anymore, do you? You’re a fancy college girl? Wrapped up in all your books?” In a smooth move, she moved forward to knock Helena’s books from her arms once more, sending papers and supplies flying all over the sidewalk and lawn. “You never did learn respect, did you, girl?” She took Helena’s arm in a painful grip, jerking her forward until the young woman could smell the stench of her sour breath. “All I did for you, all the money I spent raising you right and you run to your daddy. Well, you see how that turned out for you, don’t you?” She shook Helena’s helpless form, as if she was trying to force some sense into her. “He’s dead. You see where all that damn schooling got him. An early grave.”
Janette’s words cleaved deep, drawing tears to Helena’s eyes. She usually considered her skin to be pretty thick, but her mother could pierce it with the ease of a needle popping a balloon. She knew just how to make her daughter feel the most vulnerable, and without her father to stave off her poisonous influence, it was all too easy for her to extort and abuse Helena like she once had.
“Momma, I don’t have any money.” She managed, trying to yank her arm from her mother’s grip. “I haven’t worked in months. I’m trying to finish my degree.”
She gasped as the older woman only tightened her grip on her shoulder. Despite her mother’s skinny appearance, there was a substantial amount of force behind her grip. So much that Helena would probably have bruises the following morning. “You abandoned me, Helena. I need you. You need to bring your ass home and care for your momma. You owe me.”
Her father had used to tell her that he did everything he did for her because he loved her – not because she owed him anything. The short, blessed relationship they had was never give and take. It had been the equality between them that had made Helena feel more appreciated than she ever had – and her mother so easily tore that away from her that she was left breathless as it was stripped from her. “Leave them damn books alone and come with me.”
To Helena’s horror, the woman began trying to physically drag her from the campus. Jesus, why did this have to happen, today of all days? She was far too stressed studying for her exam to have to deal with her mother right now. Even as Helena dug her heels in, physically fighting her mother’s grip, she was buffeted by the emotional war inside her. “Momma, let go of me!” She wrenched her shoulder, wincing in pain as Janette only tightened her grip. “I said let go!”
“What the hell is going on here?”
At the voice of a newcomer, both women froze momentarily. Helena twisted in her mother’s grip, turning to see that her worst nightmare had come to fruition.
Xavier Thompson was staring at them from about three yards away, his expression guarded. Even as precarious as her situation was, the first thought that entered Helena’s mind was how absolutely gorgeous the man was. Today he wasn’t wearing his glasses and he’d cleaned up the rugged stubble on his face and neck so that he looked more polished. Either way, his visage was enough to make her heart stumble in her chest; that was, at least, until she realized what things must look like to him. Helena’s eyes widened as shame reddened her face and weakened her knees. How much had he heard? How much had he seen?
“You go on to class now, boy.” Janette was reckless. Even their new audience didn’t stop her trying to stake her claim on her daughter. “This is between me and Helena.”
Before the young woman could say anything on her behalf, Xavier interjected. “Maybe it needs to be between you, Helena and the police. You seem to be hurting her.” His eyes flickered to the place where Janette’s ragged fingernails were digging furrows into her daughter’s arm. The elder woman’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she just stared hatefully at the young man who had interrupted them.
Then, abruptly, without a word, she released Helena before turning on her heel to stalk off in the opposite direction.
The moment her mother let go of her arm, Helena bit back a soft sound of relief. There were already red marks forming there that promised to turn into bruises before the day was through, and her shoulder ached something fierce from being wrenched around. It took everything she had to repress her tears. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she knelt on the grass to begin to gather her books. “Thank you.”
While she could say the words to Xavier, she certainly couldn’t look at him. That would be too humiliating. Had he been watching the entire encounter? That would be just her luck. Now the school’s poster boy and resident rich kid would spread her business all over campus. As she piled papers into the front of her Organic Chemistry book, the last thing the young woman fel
t like doing was attending the study session she was now ridiculously late to. She felt more like fleeing back to her dorm room and allowing herself to cry the tears she was holding back.
“Hey.” Helena jumped at the sound of Xavier’s low, sinuous tenor perilously close to her ear. She turned in shock to see that he had joined her and was helping her pick up her things. It was the second time in a week and, this go-round, he had no reason to assist her. He wasn’t the one that had screwed up her evening. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.” Her answer was short- almost sharp- as she hurried to gather up her things. She would not let this man see her cry. She couldn’t.
“Maybe you should have the nurse take a look at your arm? It looks a little bruised-”
“Leave me alone!” When he reached out to touch her, Helena jerked away, the movement sending her off balance and onto her behind in the dirt as her books escaped her grasp once more. It was the final straw.
Heedless of who was watching, Helena let the first of a deluge of tears slide down her cheeks as a soft sob escaped her. Without another word, she rose to her feet, sprinting for the cover of the nearest building.
Why did she have to fall apart like this?
You’d think that after a lifetime of her mother’s abuse she would be used to it by now. Still, somehow, the woman always knew how to utterly and completely humiliate her. Now, she’d done it in front of the only man she’d encountered in her entire life that made her heart race and her breath catch.
As she made it into the art building, her books forgotten, Helena collapsed on a bench in the deserted front lobby before burying her face in her hands and letting her sobs break free.
**
Xavier hadn’t wanted to spend his entire evening in the library coding. For once, he was tempted to use his own computer simply so that he didn’t have to leave his apartment. He’d settled in for the night and was expecting a call from his sister when a client contacted him with some emergency work.
Of course, it meant money for his startup, so he bit.
He was on his way through the deserted campus, envying the students done with class for the evening, when he came across a very unsettling sight.
There were two women locked in a very precarious looking game of tug-of-war. One of them Xavier immediately recognized as the illusive, lovely girl from the library that had fled his advance a week ago. The other woman looked like she had stepped straight from a halfway house and onto the campus. Her clothes were ragged, teeth yellow, and her dark skin pockmarked with signs of drug use.
If they were talking, Xavier didn’t hear what they said. He was too busy homing in on the bedraggled woman’s grip on a student. How had she even gotten onto campus? Security was usually pretty tight, and if you didn’t have a student ID, you weren’t admitted.
Even still, he might not have intervened if his mystery girl hadn’t looked so obviously in distress. The look of intense concentration he remembered had utterly disappeared from her face – replaced by a very unhealthy measure of panic and fear. Her expression, coupled with the supplies strewn around her, were what had urged him to step in.
He had to admit that, whoever the elder woman was, she was fearless. Xavier’s presence wasn’t enough to slow her down. It wasn’t until he threatened to call the cops that she finally made her exit – and by then, it was much too late.
He was intent on helping the young woman who’d been her victim. Helena, her attacker called her. Despite the apparent gravity of the situation, Xavier couldn’t help but be elated that he’d discovered her name. The moment she dropped to the ground in an effort to pick up her books, he rushed to assist her – only to have her brusquely refuse his help.
Xavier scowled, intent on pushing his suit, only to be met with a gaze so full of sorrow and embarrassment that his heart twisted. The young woman’s eyes filled with tears and she dropped her books where she knelt to spring to her feet and rush towards the nearest available building to cower.
His mouth slightly parted in shock, he gazed after her, utterly confused. Who had the woman been who was attacking her? Should he have called the cops anyway? Funnily enough, his most prevalent emotion was anger. Whoever the hell she’d been, she’d made his mystery girl cry. When he’d first met her, the young woman had so effectively staved off his attentions that he’d been left helpless in her wake. She’d come across as strong and capable, if not the slightest bit interested in him.
Seeing the lovely eyes he’d imagined for the past week filled with tears was…disturbing, to say the least.
It didn’t take the dark-haired man long to come to a decision. He finished the task she had started, picking up all of her books and the papers that lay over a wide swathe of the ground, stacking them as neatly as he could. Then, gathering his courage, he followed her. What had just happened might not be any of his business, but whatever it was had upset her.
The least he could do was make sure she was alright.
Xavier found her in the lobby of the art building. She’d drawn her knees up into her chest where she was perched at the edge of a bench and her shoulders shook with the strength of her sobs. She was very visibly upset, and he’d come upon her in an exceedingly personal moment. The smart thing to do would have been to walk away.
What Xavier did, however, was take a tentative seat at the other end of the bench, gingerly placing the stack of her books down between them. Lowly, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.”
Inhaling sharply, the young woman lifted her head to stare at him, her gaze incredulous. Quickly, she dashed tears from her wide, utterly hypnotizing eyes in an attempt to make herself presentable. “You-” She managed in a hoarse tone, before swallowing. “What are you doing here?”
Call him crazy, but at that moment, all Xavier wanted to do was take her into his arms and let her cry. He had no idea why she was so wrapped up in her sorrow, but despite the fact that he didn’t know her, he was drawn to comfort her.” I, um…I brought your books.” He tried lamely, gesturing to the pile between them. “You forgot them.”
“Oh…” Her eyes darted to the materials before she hiccupped lowly, blushing as she cleared her own throat. “Thanks.”
For a moment, the silence that waxed between them was awkward- almost uncomfortable. Xavier was no dog, but he also wasn’t one to overlook an opportunity when it passed. Right now, this woman needed someone to lean on, and it seemed he was the only person around. It was funny, he realized, that he would run into her now, when she’d been on his mind literally the entire week.
“Your name is Helena, right?”
Her gaze turned wary as she locked gazes with him. “Yes...”
“Look,” Xavier set about trying to explain himself, which was hard when he hadn’t been so tongue tied over a woman since his teens. “I’m not trying to be creepy or anything. You looked like you needed help. Do you want me to call the cops or something?”
“No!” Her exclamation was forceful, making him jump with its intensity. The moment she realized her tone, however, Helena lessened her intensity. “I mean, no. That won’t be necessary.”
Xavier arched a brow. “Are you sure? No one deserves to be harassed on campus, and those marks look like they’re going to turn into some pretty wicked looking bruises-”
“It was my mom.”
And just like that, Xavier was struck absolutely dumb.
Her…mother?
It didn’t seem possible.
The ragged figure he’d seen just twenty minutes before couldn’t look more different than the young woman beside him. Helena’s body was lush and curvy, clad conservatively in a pair of dark sweatpants and a camisole. Her hair was dark and gleamed with health, and her eyes, despite their wary pain, were a particularly arresting shade of gray. If the trespasser was her mother, there was no familial resemblance.
There was that, and the fact that the woman had been physically hurting her. Her own daughter. It was a lot to ab
sorb, and quite honestly, the young man found himself at a loss for words.
“You don’t have to say anything.” It was like she could read his mind. Sighing, Helena ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it back from her forehead. “Just promise you won’t tell anyone about what you saw.”
Even if she hadn’t asked, the thought wouldn’t have crossed his mind. “Of course.” Another very long moment passed in which Xavier’s mind worked overtime to try and break the very tense atmosphere between them. Extending his hand for her to shake, he tried a small smile. “I’m Xavier. Xavier Thompson.”
To his surprise, she chuckled softly. The sound was like music after walking in on her literally crying her eyes out. Helena took his hand in hers, shaking it firmly. “Everyone knows who you are.”
He flushed, a bit perturbed, in that moment, that she knew him by his reputation when he knew close to nothing about her; save, perhaps, the fact that she and her mother had…issues. “Well, damn. I feel slightly at a loss here.”
“Why?” A well-manicured brow shot up at his statement.
Xavier shrugged. “Well, you know everything about me but I don’t know anything about you.”
Another laugh escaped her, this one with a cutting edge. “Why on earth would you want to know anything about me?”
Didn’t she know? Jesus Christ, she was one of the most startlingly beautiful women he’d ever seen, even with her eyes still red from crying. He refused to believe that no one on campus had ever approached her for a date – or something more carnal.
He certainly hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since the first time he’d seen her. To admit that would be suicide, though – and so he tried something a little more subtle. “Well, this is the second time we’ve run into one another in a week. Gotta be some kind of sign, right?”
Helena stared at him for a moment, her gray eyes filled with confusion. Then, all at once, her lips parted in surprise. The young woman gave him a long once over that made him feel acutely self-conscious. “Oh my God.” She breathed the words incredulously. “You’re hitting on me.”
A Kiss of Color: A BWWM Interracial Romance (Book 1) Page 3