I slide the key in the doorknob and turn it slowly. When I step inside, he’s sitting behind his desk. He looks up from a pile of papers, a wide smile on his face.
“Wow,” I say, locking the door behind me. “I like this look on you.”
“That makes one of us.” Roscoe beckons for me to come closer. “Is that thing locked?”
I drop the keys on the desk as I walk around it to stand in front of him. “Yes.”
He stands and, towering over me, eases me up against the desk, locking me between his arms a palm pressed on either side of me. He’s so close his hot breath steams against my forehead and I shiver. His lips feather against my skin and I bite my lip.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks.
“Uh huh.”
“You look happy.”
“I am.”
“Even with all the bad music you’ve been forced to listen to all night?” He laughs.
“It grew on me.”
“Again,” he says, bowing his head so we’re cheek to cheek and murmuring in my ear, “that makes one of us.”
I giggle. “It wasn’t so bad. It’s a club. It’s Maya. What did you expect?”
“Not this. That’s for sure.” He pulls back a bit until we are face to face. “I liked dancing with you though. Cutting in on that frat boy. What the hell was that all about anyway?”
“Just a little innocent flirting.”
“There was nothing innocent about the way he was touching you.”
I smile. “You’re a much better dancer.”
His gaze drops to my lips. “I wanted to do more than dance.”
My stomach swirls and I grip the edge of the desk as heat rushes between my legs. “What did you want to do?” I ask.
Roscoe bites the corner of his lip and when that barbell clinks against his teeth, I actually moan.
He raises his eyebrows and I can tell he’s fighting laughter. “You a little drunk there, Blue?”
I shake my head. “Off champagne? What do you take me for? A lightweight?” He shrugs and I lick my lips. “Just a little buzzed. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you drunk?”
He laughs. “Do I look it?”
“No, but…” I look away, unsure of how to approach the subject. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all.
“But what?” He frowns.
“I could have sworn you were going to kiss me earlier.”
“Oh, yeah?” He’s focused on my lips again and I can’t stop licking them.
I nod. “Then Maya showed up and called you away.”
“That was unfortunate.”
I waver on my feet and he catches me, his hands settling at my waist like they were made to fit there.
“Can I ask you something?” I stare up at him.
“Shoot.”
“How do you feel?” I swallow hard, then place both hands on his chest. “About me? Do you love me, Ross?”
Surprise flickers across his face and I suddenly regret my choice of words. It’s all come out so wrong and I’m desperate to take it back. I try to pull away, but he holds on just a bit tighter. And when I turn my head, he cups my chin urging me to face him again.
“I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” I say. His gray eyes capture mine and I can’t look away. “Maybe I am a little drunk,” I whisper.
Roscoe opens his mouth to speak then closes it again. His jaw tightens and just when I’m sure I’ve completely humiliated myself, his grip on my waist tightens and he tugs me toward him. I release a soft sigh as our lips meet and hold his face between my hands. He moans as his tongue probes my mouth slowly, tangling softly with my own as though he’s forgotten how I taste.
Grasping my hips, he hoists me up onto the desk, fitting himself between my legs. I wrap them around his waist as he eases me back, kissing me deeper and harder as we go.
It isn’t until the door slams that we realize we’re no longer alone.
Roscoe bolts up off the desk, leaving me cold. “Maya, what the hell? It’s locked for a reason!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. But this isn’t exactly a sock-on-the-doorknob kind of establishment.” Her glare is fixed on me and I slip off the desk, adjusting my dress. “We need to close.” She focuses on Roscoe again, rolling her eyes. “Are those the receipts I asked you to go over?”
“You need to leave.” His nose is flared as he crosses the room to stand in front of her. “This isn’t cool. You have no right to just walk in here.”
“This is a place of business, Ross. I’m not going to sit around doing all the dirty work while you take little tricks back to your office.”
“It’s not like that and you know it. You need to shut the fuck up and get the fuck out.”
“Really, Ross?” She crosses her arms. “What’s it like then? Is she your girlfriend now? Is that it? Tell, how exactly is that going to work?”
I don’t even realize she’s speaking to me until she’s standing directly in front of me, just inches from my face.
I frown, glancing from her to Roscoe.
“Tell me, Little Miss Palouse. Is your preacher daddy going to be okay with you banging a guy almost ten years older than you? And what would your mother think about you in that dress? And your sister—”
“Maya!” Roscoe forces his way between us. “Don’t. You need to go.”
“Oh, no. Not yet. Not until she answers one little question. How exactly are you going to look the brother of the man who’s kids you’re plotting to take in the face every single day?”
My stomach drops, my gaze shifting to Roscoe. “I’m not—it’s not like that.”
But he’s still focused on Maya. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She suddenly looks just as confused and scared as I feel. “Nothing,” she says quickly. “Just hurry up with the receipts. I want to be home at a decent time.”
She turns to go, but Ross stops her, a hand curling around her forearm. “What are you talking about?”
Maya glances at me, then back at Ross. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have…”
The room is completely silent for several moments before he speaks again. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” He turns to face me. “Sheila?”
Maya casts me an apologetic gaze, then clears her throat. “Look, Ross I’m sorry. I was in here early looking for the contract from that wine shop in Bellevue. And I…I was in a hurry. I opened the envelope from earlier…and curiosity got the better of me. I shouldn’t have snooped. It was rude and uncalled for. It’s just been such a long night and I’m exhausted. When I walked in here and saw you two…Ross, I’m sorry. I’m going to go.”
Roscoe shakes his head, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
Maya glances at me again, then closes her eyes, placing a hand on her forehead. “You were subpoenaed earlier by the family courts. The Carlsons are suing for custody of Luke’s kids. Their lawyer’s asking you to be a character witness.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Ross
When Maya walks out the door, I want to go with her. Because to turn around and look Sheila in the eye after what I just heard seems damn-near impossible. I’ve spent the last month convincing myself not to touch her, doing my best to help her get to a better place so she can finally go home and all this time…
“Did you know about this?” I don’t turn to face her. I can’t.
“I…I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You either knew they were going to do this or you didn’t. Which one is it?”
“Ross, I think there are some things we need to talk about.” She touches my arm but I brush her off, finally turning to face her and doing my best not to let those innocent looking eyes get to me.
“Did. You. Know?”
She shakes her head, eyes wide. “I knew there were some things regarding the kids—s
ome decisions that needed to be made, but I didn’t think—I had no idea they’d come after Luke that way. You have to believe me.”
“So you did know. You knew something was up but you didn’t say a thing. Instead you looked me in the face every day, asked about Luke, lived in my house, slept in my parents’ room, let me take care of you. All the while knowing what they were plotting.”
“Ross, that’s not true. I’ve been away from home for months. How would I know something like that?”
“You said it yourself. You knew something was up. It didn’t occur to you to warn me? To warn Luke? After the way they treated us?” I turn away, covering my face. “I promised him,” I hiss whipping back around to face her. “I’ve failed him. Over and over. My own brother. I’m all he has and I keep fucking it up. I’m out here screwing the girl whose family is screwing him over. And all he wants to do is see his son. I told him I’d help. You have no right to keep us from them. I don’t know how they found out about the lawsuit. How’d they find out, huh? Did Pete already talk to you? He did, didn’t he? And you told them. That’s why they’re turning the tables on us. I told him not to talk to you. I said I’d handle it.”
“Wh-who’s Pete? What are you talking about?”
“My lawyer!” I scream. “He said having you on my side would help. I don’t know why I believed him. He’s probably just in it for the money like every other motherfucker. Telling me what I want to hear, just so he can make a few quick bucks. Because you’d never actually help me, would you?”
Sheila’s mouth drops open and I’ve realized too late, I’ve said too much. But I don’t care. I don’t give a damn how it makes her feel because I’m not the only one who’s been keeping secrets.
“You were using me?” she asks quietly.
“Please,” I scoff. “Like you don’t know anything about that.”
“All this Get Happy crap and the ‘I only want what’s best for you’ bullshit. What was that? To convince me you were on my side so you could take advantage of me?”
“He just wanted to see his son,” I snap. “And you’re highfalutin family wouldn’t even bother to consider it. It’s been months since he’s seen him last. You know how many, Sheila? Eight. Eight long months. The guys heartbroken it’s all he talks about. ‘How’s Ray? Is the baby out of the hospital’.”
“He’s in jail, Ross. What do you want me to do? Take a toddler to visiting hours?”
“It’s not unheard of. People do it all the time. I’ve seen it.”
“And you actually thought my parents would be okay with that?”
“I knew they wouldn’t. That’s why I was going to take them to court. Sue for custody and access.” I hold my head in my hands. “I can’t fucking believe this. Luke is gonna be—he’s gonna…you know what Shannon said to him—just before she died? She told him to be the best dad he could be. And ever since the day he woke up in the hospital that’s all he’s wanted. It’s where he was going when he got in that accident. To see Ray. To be with his kid. And everyone’s just been turning him into some villain. He made a mistake. He doesn’t deserve to pay for it for the rest of his life.”
“I’m sorry.” She says, her voice shaky. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to use me as your pawn.” Her lip quivers and she blinks a few times. “I’m sorry the only thing in this world that seems to matter to you is your brother’s happiness. I’m sorry everything else is just a ruse to get you there.” Tears are streaming down her face now and suddenly wish I’d bothered to gauge my reaction. I’m angrier than I probably should be, but that doesn’t change the facts. Her family is at it again.
I let out a frustrated sigh and cross the room, getting as far away from her as possible. It’s taking everything inside me not to take her in my arms.
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “That you don’t care about me, Ross. I’m sorry I’m in your way.”
I want to tell her she’s not. That this decision is splitting me in two, I can’t get this whole mess off my mind.
“I’m sorry too,” I say. “But he’s my brother. And I’ve failed him enough for one life time. Now I have to go tell him the worst kind of news. This is going to break him. You have no idea.”
I turn my back on her and walk through the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sheila
I climb into the passenger’s seat of Dave’s car and lean my head against the rest. My head is pounding, from the champagne overload, but mostly from a morning full of tears and screaming. At myself. At my family. At him.
He didn’t come home again. Just like after our last fight. He’s probably still in his office. Or worse, being comforted by Maya. I wanted to leave, to pack my stuff and run, but I’m still here. Maybe because I’m not sure what will punish him more—me leaving without a word or staying and forcing him to look me in the eye.
He was using me. This whole time he just wanted my help and instead of just asking for it, he tried to manipulate me. Just like my parents are trying to do now. He never really cared. He just wanted me gone, so he could get what he wanted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask in a hoarse voice.
“Tell you what?” Dave’s holding out a cup of coffee, but I don’t accept it.
“You could have called. Left me a message. Given me a heads up. Instead you let them ambush me. Ambush him.”
“Sheila, I have no idea—”
“My parents, Dave! My fucking parents! Why are they doing this, huh? Is it t—to force my hand? They can’t let me make one decision by myself? I’d already decided to come back. I—I’m going to do it. I made up my mind and I was going to call,” I say. “This is so typical. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I don’t know why I thought things would be different.”
“Sheila,” Dave soothes. “Just tell me. Tell me what happened.”
The tears are falling again, the heavy ache in the center of my chest getting worse, growing bigger, like each memory, each thought is fueling it. “They want to take Luke’s kids away and I know why. It’s because of me, isn’t it? They wanted me to commit. They thought they could force me to. But instead, they’re ruining everything. Destroying other people’s lives just to make me come home.”
“He got the papers.” Dave sighs. “I would have called but, to be honest, I didn’t even think you’d care. I thought you’d made your decision the last time you left.”
I shake my head. “I just needed time to think.”
“You ran out of time, Sheila.” Dave closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Mariah’s being released from the hospital. With Shannon gone and Luke incarcerated, the courts have the power to place her in foster care. Ray too. They needed a decision. Now.”
I turn to gaze out the window, wiping the tears away. “He said he was helping me come to terms with everything. That once I accepted the fact that she was gone, moved on with my life everything would be better. But this whole time…” I sniff and swallow hard. “He just wanted me to leave. He wanted to use me to get to them.”
“Who’s using you?”
“Ross. He was going to take Mom and Dad to court. For weeks he’s been manipulating me—making me think…he could have just asked. Why didn’t he just ask?”
“I think there’s more to it than that.”
“More to what?”
“A few weeks ago, he asked me about taking Ray to see Luke. It caught me off guard and I may have given him the impression asking your parents would result in a definite no. Then when I got back to Palouse, your grandmother was griping about how some tattooed heathen was snooping around the hospital and manipulating the nurses.”
“Ross?”
“Apparently he was visiting Mariah for weeks. He even paid her hospital bills.” Dave shrugs a little. “She had him banned anyway.”
“Oh, my god.” I sniff. “And now he thinks we’re trying to take them away,” I whisper.
The look on his face last night said it all. He was devastated and, once ag
ain, I made it all about me. He wasn’t using me at all. He was just being Ross—the guy who takes care of everyone, no matter what.
Dave places a hand on my arm. “Sheila, you should know it’s not what it looks like—the custody suit. It’s what Luke wants.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s giving them up, Sheila. The kids I mean. He’s agreed to give them up.”
“Visitor for Luke Black.” The female guard strides forward, clipboard in hand, her pleated dull uniform clinging tightly to her hips.
The moment I get up from my chair, she gestures for me to follow her and I do—mutely and almost fearfully down a narrow hallway. We reach the other side of the door and she leads me down a row of cubicles. In each one is a plain clothed person, like me, settled in a chair, a telephone receiver held to the side of their face as they peer at men in bright orange jumpsuits on the opposite side of the glass.
The guard stops abruptly and I nearly crash into her. She gestures toward the booth to her left and I freeze up when I see him. He looks worse than I do—his only saving grace being that he’s not as wiry as I’ve always known him to be. His dark hair is even longer now and he’s pulled it back into a slick ponytail. His face is scruffy, like his brother’s. But on Luke it just looks…sad. His gray eyes are sunken in and a sullen expression litters his face. They brighten slightly as he picks up the phone and watches me take small steps toward the chair, settling in across from him.
“Hi,” I say into the receiver. The action is awkward, so unnatural I’m beginning to regret coming here. “I…wanted to…how are you?”
He peers through the thick glass in my direction and his lips suddenly part, his eyes glazing over. He sits back in his seat and lowers his hand, the receiver resting on his shoulder. I gaze back at him, observing the way he closes his eyes, his brows knitting together. For several minutes, he just sits there, motionless, until I finally have the courage to call his name.
“I’m sorry.” He holds the phone against his cheek again, his eyes still closed. His breath hitches as he breathes in. “You just—you look so much like her. You have no fucking idea how much you look like your sister.”
Blackout (Lewiston Blues Series/Black Family Saga Book 2) Page 23