“Be honest. Is it a marijuana pop?” His smile grew. “I won’t put you under arrest. It’s just the only thing that makes sense. Unless you actually are three years old.”
Veda rolled her eyes, and then she pulled the sucker from her lips and held it out over the center console, offering him a taste. It gleamed with her saliva, and she fully expected him to rear back in disgust.
His eyes fell to the bright green sucker, then back up to hers. He held her gaze for a long, still moment, and then he leaned down and drew the glistening green ball into his mouth.
Veda’s eyes fell to his thick lips as they wrapped around the stick, a lump rising in her throat. She gave him a moment to get a good taste, and then yanked at the stick, trying to reclaim it.
But he trapped the stick between his teeth, cheeks sinking into suction cups, sealing it in his mouth as he sat tall, changing gears when the light turned green. He moved forward while pushing the sucker into the corner of his cheek, making a mountain in his jaw.
“Hey!” Veda cried, flying back into her seat when the car pulled off more quickly than she’d been ready for. “That’s mine. My last one. Did you not hear me when I said it was my sanity?”
“Sucker or no sucker, if you honestly believe you’re capable of sanity, you’re beyond help.” He chuckled around the stick, making a turn that led to her apartment.
If only he knew how deep her insanity ran. She was reminded that, just a few weeks ago, he’d almost learned. She thanked God, for the millionth time, that she’d gotten rid of that cow-print manicure in the nick of time.
She crossed her arms tight, pouting. “Well? Do you taste pot, officer?”
He came to another stoplight and moved the sucker from his cheek, swirling it in circles with his tongue. “Nah.” He squinted at her from the corner of his eye, the stick softly muffling his voice. “It’s sweet.”
Veda’s chest swelled as their eyes locked across the console, and after a long moment, she forced her gaze away.
A silence fell and hung on. Neither jumped in to fill it as he continued the drive back to her place.
When Linc reached out and turned up the volume on the music, a smile bloomed on her face. “I can’t believe you listen to old school R&B. When I climbed in this car and heard Joe playing, I nearly had a stroke.”
He tilted his head to the side and smoothed his goatee. A smile teased his lips but didn’t meet his eyes.
Veda’s voice rose. “And it wasn’t even a predictable Joe song, either. An R&B beginner would’ve been listening to I Wanna Know. But you were blasting All the Things Your Man Won’t Do? What?” She whooped. “That song. Instant panty dropper, right there. Most white boys don’t even know it exists. Especially not the long-haired ones like you.”
He licked his smiling lips, turning the wheel with one hand. “It was all my mother listened to growing up. Rubs off.”
“I fully expected you to be some heavy metal head. God only knows how many other surprises you’ve got hidden in your big box of tricks. Next you’ll tell me you’re going to the Masquerade Ball next weekend.”
He smirked, which was confirmation enough that he’d rather eat glass.
“I’m going,” she said.
He nodded.
Veda sighed at how hard it was to hold a conversation with him sometimes, letting another silence fall in, hoping he remembered to drop her off a block from her apartment.
He did remember, slowing to a stop next to the curb. The street went empty. Quiet as a mouse.
Veda went to open the door, froze, and then looked at him over her shoulder. “We’re not giving up,” she said. “Right?”
Instead of answering, he sighed, cradling his hand on the headrest of her seat. “Please text me once you’re inside so I know you’re okay.”
With a soft pout, Veda opened the door and hopped out onto the sidewalk. All she could manage was a tight smile and an even tighter nod before swinging the door shut behind her.
She didn’t look back, but as she walked the short block to her complex, she felt his eyes burning into her back the entire way. The soft rumble of his truck’s engine was never far behind. He didn’t pull away from the curb until she’d unlocked the steel gate that led into her apartment complex.
By the time the roar of his engine had completely disappeared, she’d already made it to her front door. She stepped into her foyer and pulled out her phone.
Just as she pulled up Linc’s number, a text came through.
Linc: Are you okay?
A warm smile lifted her lips.
Veda: I’m okay.
16
Every corner of the Blackwater mansion was giving Veda posttraumatic stress.
The living room, which hadn’t changed a bit, where she’d looked Todd Lockwood in his eye for the first time, had stopped her heart on sight. The staircase that he’d forced her to climb, tripping over her drunken feet the entire way thanks to whatever he’d put in her drink, had taken her breath away. The door to the master bedroom, which was visible from the first level—the same bedroom where his nine friends had eventually come to join them—had nearly made her empty her stomach.
Even though the Blackwater dining room hadn’t played a part in the ongoing nightmare that played on repeat in her mind, somehow, it still managed to make her stomach sick.
The floor-to-ceiling windows made the vaulted ceilings seem ten times higher. Beyond the windows, the black cliffs that had given Shadow Rock its name nearly disappeared into the starry night sky, but the yellow moon beamed just enough light to expose their rickety presence, giving them a haunting look. A cruise ship floated in the distance boasting the family’s moniker—it’s white body booming against the black sky even brighter than the moon itself. The crash of the ocean waves was only faintly audible, just enough to make Veda yearn for more.
Half an hour into the dinner and her stomach remained in knots. Not even the warm feel of Gage’s hand enveloping her thigh from the seat next to her, squeezing every time his mother shot Veda a sour look—and there had been plenty—was enough to ease her.
Celeste Blackwater was just as Gage had described her. Tall, lean and delicate, with pale skin that nearly melted into the white dining chair behind her, she wore a black wrap dress that hugged every inch of her body, and a smile that never unglued itself from her face.
Veda had never realized how many emotions a smile could actually express until she found herself across from Celeste, watching hers go through every last one: anger, annoyance, impatience and near disdain. Never welcoming. Never happy.
Gage squeezed her thigh harder, and Veda looked to her right, meeting his eye. When she saw how nervous he was, she covered his thigh as well, saying a silent prayer of thanks that this shit was almost over when the family chef cleared their appetizers. Not a moment was wasted dropping the main dishes, all encased in a mixture of sterling silver and fine china. The pleasant scent of lamb filled the air.
But Veda couldn’t appreciate it. If she didn’t promptly throw it back up the moment she swallowed it, it would be nothing short of a miracle.
She could only pray that there wouldn’t be dessert.
Her eyes danced to the head of the silent table where Gage’s father, David Blackwater, was going out of his way to pretend Veda didn’t exist. Since the moment she and Gage had arrived, he’d yet to look her in the eye. His hair was shock white, eyes icy blue, wearing a designer suit just as perfectly tailored as Gage’s always was. Veda could see where Gage had inherited his spit-shined ways. Perfectly controlled, always aware of what his body was doing and how it reacted to the stimulus around him.
Even Gage’s grandfather, Pierce Kincaid, who sat directly opposite David at the other head of the table, was flawless and completely in control of the vibe he emanated. His head was perfectly bald, just pointy enough at the top to dodge cone-head territory. His gray goatee had been trimmed to perfection, and his eyebrows were gray too, shadowing a pair of beautiful eyes that Veda
swore were turquoise—the most beautiful eyes she was sure she’d ever seen. Even with a heavily lined face and wrinkled, sagging skin, big ears, wide nose, and thin lips, Pierce’s was the easiest face at that table to look at. The kindest eyes. The most genuine aura.
“So, Veda,” Pierce smiled at her as the rest of the table dug into their meals.
Veda raised her eyebrows at Pierce, thankful for the distraction from Celeste’s ice-cold eyes.
“Gage tells us you’re an anesthesiologist.” Pierce’s voice wasn’t overly deep, but proper. So smooth and sure, Veda found herself waiting for an English accent to slip through.
Up until that point, she’d been doing a great job just shutting the hell up. That had been her strategy. Not to try to win over the people who were bound to hate her. People who would never accept her. But just to make it clear to Gage how much she loved him. That she’d do anything for him.
The weight of his hand on her thigh was the only thing keeping her glued together.
“I am,” she said. “A few months into my first year of residency.”
“What medical school did you attend?” Pierce asked.
“Stanford.”
His eyes shrank into small slits as he smiled. “How extraordinary.”
“Not as extraordinary as John’s Hopkins…” Celeste jumped in, smiling warmly while batting her lashes across the table at Veda. “Or Harvard, or even Washington…”
“Mother,” Gage jumped in, trying to keep his voice level.
Veda patted Gage’s thigh, ensuring him she had it under control.
He patted back, shooting her a proud look. “Veda was born and raised on the hill, broke through every barrier in her path and fought her way into one of the top medical schools in the country. She graduated second in her class.” He moved his eyes to Pierce. “You’re absolutely right, Grandfather. She is extraordinary. She’s overcome incredible odds, and she’s an incredible woman.”
Celeste jumped in less than a second after Gage finished as if she’d been on the bleeding edge of interrupting his praise. “Veda, I’m so curious… why Shadow Rock?”
“Why not?” Veda raised her eyebrows. “Shadow Rock is my home.”
“Surely a girl from the hill doesn’t have much to come home to. I’d assume a woman who’d broken free from that area would leave this island and never look back. Especially when faced with the plethora of opportunities that were surely allotted to you at Stanford.”
“Mother…”
Celeste widened her green eyes at Gage, feigning innocence.
David remained quiet as a mouse next to her, enjoying his dinner, even as heat crept up his sunken cheeks.
“Well, I’m simply getting to know her, Darling,” Celeste said. “Can’t I get to know her? Of all the illustrious hospitals in the world, Veda, you chose Shadow Rock. It just puzzles me is all.”
“It puzzles you that I’d choose to work for a hospital built by your family?” Veda asked. “I find it interesting that I seem to have more faith in your family’s company than you do.”
Celeste’s icy grin spread. “While I’m deeply proud of every company that bears the Blackwater name, I’m under no illusions that our hospital can compete with the caliber of a hospital that undoubtedly pursues a Salutatorian at Stanford.”
Veda tried to swallow, but a blockage had taken up space in her throat. She could feel her pulse ebbing over every inch of her body, including her lips, which twitched.
“I missed home,” Veda said.
“Does your family still live here?” Celeste asked.
“No.” Veda cleared her throat. “My parents left a few years ago.”
“I can’t imagine what on Earth you could miss so much, if not your family.”
Veda looked at Gage and saw the tightened jaw and the heated look he was shooting his mother. When she squeezed his thigh this time, it did nothing to erase the irritation growing more potent on his face by the moment. “Gage once told me that there’s something about Shadow Rock that gets under your skin. That you won’t even feel it happening until it’s already entered your bloodstream and taken over your body.” Veda took a deep breath and looked back at Celeste. “I suppose I must be suffering from a chronic case of Shadow Rock-itis. There must be something in the water.”
Only Gage and Pierce smiled.
Celeste rolled her eyes, making sure Veda saw it as she brought her champagne glass up to her lips. She took her time taking a swallow. “In all honesty, Veda, as I live and breathe I never imagined seeing the day my son fell in love with a girl from the hill. Perhaps there really is something in the water.” She chuckled softly.
Veda looked at Gage’s father, who’d still yet to meet her eyes, but had now shown the first hint of a smile. Veda’s body heat up, and she found herself unable to bite her tongue.
“Since we’re all addressing our curiosities, Celeste, I’m so curious how you manage to look so gorgeous and fresh-faced? I can only pray that, when I’m your age, I’m anywhere near as youthful and perky.” Gage’s hand tightened on her thigh, but this time Veda could tell it was a squeeze of pleading, not comfort. It was a squeeze that begged her to take the high road, but she was well past that, her heart slamming against her chest. “You couldn’t be a day over forty.”
Celeste’s teeth tried to bare through her smile. “I’m 39, and I won’t regale you with how rude it is to bring up a woman’s age in mixed company. I suppose they do things differently where you’re from.”
Veda shrugged. “I’m simply getting to know you, Celeste. Can’t I get to know you?” Veda was sure Gage was one good squeeze away from breaking her thigh in half. Her eyes zoomed to the ceiling as she twirled one of her curls around her pointer finger. “Gosh, I didn’t graduate from Harvard, and numbers are really hard, so my Stanford math might be a little off, but if you’re thirty-nine…” She pretended to count off on her fingers, not unaware that Gage was now shaking her leg under the table, silently begging her to stop. But she couldn’t stop. She poked her lips out as she pretended to count on each finger before leaning forward and throwing Celeste her wide eyes. “That would’ve made you… thirteen years old when you gave birth to Gage?”
Celeste drew in a deep breath. Her eyes went alight. The champagne glass in her trembling hand seemed seconds from shattering.
“Frankly, it seems like you’d fit right in with most of the girls I grew up with on the hill.” Veda smiled, but it was gone in an instant as she swallowed heavily, sure her heart was seconds from jumping up and out of her throat. “Unlike those girls on the hill, however, you were free to endure your life’s stumbles and learn your life lessons without facing discrimination and persecution from people who assume they’re better than you. Even if those people have made the exact same mistakes. Man, thirteen. It must’ve been nice to endure such a challenging life lesson without the weight of the world’s judgment coming down on you and crushing you like a bug. The same world that will crush you like a bug and then turn around and blame you when your guts spill out and ugly up the sidewalk.” The sarcasm in Veda’s voice nearly spilled from her lips and filled her champagne glass. “But I suppose the girls on the hill have to live by a different set of rules, right? I suppose your mistakes were more forgivable since you made them in a white stone mansion and not a run down shack on the hill.”
“Excuse me,” Celeste slammed down her napkin and stood, breezing away from the table. Her heels clicked on the wood floors long after she disappeared around the corner.
Veda sucked in a breath when the hold on her thigh disappeared. She snapped her eyes to Gage just as he cursed under his breath, stood and left his seat, following after his mother.
David stood from his seat as well, matching the trail Gage and Celeste had left, without looking at Veda.
Pierce was the last to stand from his seat, taking a moment to wipe his mouth with his black cloth napkin before clearing his throat and leaving the dining room as well.
And Veda was alo
ne.
Yes. She’d totally lost her cool.
Yes. The argument she’d have with Gage that night would probably be one for the books.
But it’d been worth it.
So very worth it.
17
Grace Hill chuckled as Linc shoveled the food in his mouth mere seconds after she’d spooned a third helping onto the white paper plate before him. Her own plate sat half eaten on the other side of the folding table in her tiny kitchen. She hurried back to her lime green stove, pushing her dirty blonde hair—full of split ends and desperate for a cut—behind her ear. She quickly grabbed another paper plate entirely, piling it with a mountain of fried pork chops, corn bread and macaroni and cheese, hearing Linc nearly grunting as he annihilated the plate already in front of him. She smiled at the way his huge body barely fit into the folding chair he sat in, the flimsy legs probably one false move from caving in under him, as she made her way back to the table.
She set the second plate down in front of him and tucked a piece of his brown hair behind his ear before reclaiming her seat. She seized her burning cigarette from the ashtray in the middle of the table and took a quick drag, watching him from the corner of her eye.
From the open window above the sink, ocean waves rolled, only slightly audible over the house music pumping from the club across the street.
“Whenever I miss the days you use to live with me, I always remind myself that I could pay a mortgage with the money I spent feeding you.” White smoke billowed from the edge of her pink lips as she butted out her cigarette and lifted her own plastic fork, smiling when he didn’t even look up from his plate. “Come up for air anytime, babe.”
Linc took a big swallow and met her gaze under his hooded eyes. He nodded toward the window where music was pumping in from the new bar across the street. “How long does this go on?”
Tingle (Revenge Book 2) Page 16