Desire

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Desire Page 10

by Simone Sowood


  I move, letting it hit the courtyard wall before stopping it with my foot.

  “Have I hit a nerve?”

  I’ve long suspected George’s reason for not selling is because he likes the ego trip of having his last name on a famous company. He probably uses it to pick up women. That, and that he won’t sell just to be an asshole to me.

  I was always the favorite child. Not selling is the best he can do to hurt me.

  George doesn’t say anything, instead he glares at me. I glare back, my chest heaving as I form a plan in my mind.

  “I will run our company into the ground. Not only will the Newbury name be gone, but it will be gone in spectacular fashion.”

  “There is no way in hell you’d ever do that.”

  “Maybe I’ll take it down with a big scandal. Forget kids’ toys, I will start making sex toys. I’ll invest every penny in those sex robots. I’ll even send you one, programmed to tell you what an asshole you are.”

  Newbury will be synonymous with sex and scandal.

  “I’ll think of a good scandal, don’t worry. And somehow it will involve you. George Newbury, the dumb brother who caused the company to collapse.”

  He screams, the noise echoing around the courtyard as he breaks into a run. He lunges at me and I raise my arms in defense.

  I shove him as hard as I can. His head snaps back, but he recovers quickly and throws a haymaker punch that lands firmly on my jaw.

  Ignoring the pain, I start swinging, suddenly wanting to cause him as much physical pain as possible to make up for all the bullshit he’s put me through.

  In defense, George wraps his arms around my shoulders. Our heads knock against each other’s.

  “Sign the fucking papers already,” I growl into his ear, my teeth gritted.

  “No fucking way, never. And the more you ask, the firmer the never becomes.”

  Grunting, I push down on my feet until he topples backwards. I land on top of him with a thud.

  “I don’t need you to sign if you’re dead,” I say, not really meaning it.

  Several hands grab me, and pull me to my feet. A dozen monks have appeared and drag us away from each other.

  My breathing is heavy and I try to catch my breath as I rub my swollen jaw.

  “You must leave now,” one of the monks says, smiling politely.

  “Good, get him out of here,” George says, wiping blood from his lip.

  “You must also leave,” another monk says, his accent thick.

  George’s eyes narrow at me and he attempts another lunge in my direction, but the monks hold him firm.

  “I’m out of here,” I say, “I’ll be sure to send you the very first sex doll.”

  I turn on my heels and stride to my meager bedroom off the courtyard. I only have a few things to shove in my backpack before slinging it on my back and heading to the mountain trail.

  Fuck George.

  Fuck Newbury Toys.

  I’m going to get Grace.

  Five days later, I arrive in a town. From here there’s a road back to the capital, and I can fly out of here and make my long journey back to the US.

  I strip off and stand in the shower, the weak flow of water the best feeling in the world.

  Until I look at my phone, that is. There is cell coverage. As soon as it connects, my phone starts beeping and chiming with four weeks’ worth of text messages and emails.

  There’s only one person I care about hearing from. I click on Grace’s name, and start to read.

  She’s pregnant?

  Holy shit. My heart leaps as I immediately remember the clause that considers grandchildren to be the same as children when weighting their say in decisions.

  Fuck you George, I just won.

  Chapter 22

  Grace

  “When are you going to get your own place?” my mother says, her words slurred even though it’s only three in the afternoon.

  “As soon as I figure out what to do with my life.”

  “Well, figure out faster, this chair is uncomfortable.”

  We’re in my sister Charity’s living room. I’ve been sleeping on her sofa for a week.

  Mini Motivations collapsed the day after Shawna announced she was out of money. No one wanted to work for shares since they’re most likely worthless.

  Anna realized she didn’t have enough money to pay the rent on her own. And I certainly don’t have the money to keep paying rent without a job.

  A day later, Tyson asked her to move in with him and she jumped at the opportunity. I don’t blame her at all. It’s what she wanted most. She’s sure they’ll get married soon, even though he still hasn’t proposed.

  I was left with few choices, and I loaded up my car to accept my fate. I made peace with my situation during the long drive to Tennessee.

  The last time I was here, my sister and her three kids were living by themselves. But my mother moved in with them six months ago.

  It’s a little dilapidated house on the edge of town. There’s three small bedrooms with all three of her kids crammed into one.

  The only space for me is on the couch. Something my alcoholic mother resents, because she normally spends the day sitting on it. She doesn’t like the armchair.

  Or me, apparently. You think she would have more sympathy for her daughter.

  “I don’t know what you’re worried about anyway, you know who the father is so what’s the big deal?” she spews during a commercial break.

  “He won’t contact me is the big deal,” I say, fighting back tears.

  I seem to spend a lot of time crying lately. It must be the pregnancy hormones.

  “Who cares? You don’t need him anyway, just his money.”

  The dam bursts, and tears roll down my cheeks. Leo didn’t date because all women were after his money. I refuse to be in that category. If he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby, then so be it.

  “Maybe he broke my heart, did you ever think of that?” I say through the lump in my throat.

  “That’s why you should avoid men, they’re only good for one thing — hard cocks.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “You should, look at your situation. Haven’t you learned anything? I hope he was a good fuck at least. Did he make you come? Like, really come so hard you couldn’t walk straight afterwards?”

  I swallow, not quite believing my mother just said those things to me. Although I do believe it, considering I’ve known her my whole life.

  “That’s enough, Mom,” Charity says as she appears from the kitchen.

  My body immediately lightens, and I smile at her in gratitude. We’ve never been close, but she welcomed me into her already crowded home when I needed her.

  At twenty-five, she’s only two years older than me, but we’ve led dramatically different lives. She has three kids by three fathers, and her oldest is already ten.

  I always struggled to respect her, but being here the past week has allowed me to find that respect. She’s a good mother and daughter. And has proven herself to be a great sister.

  At the moment, she’s the only support I have in my life.

  “Grace, I need your help in the kitchen,” Charity says.

  I throw my tissue down on the cluttered coffee table and follow her into the kitchen.

  “I don’t know what to do about Mom,” I say, sighing.

  “You haven’t had to live with her for the past six months.”

  “I don’t know why you do it.”

  “What choice do I have? She got kicked out of her place for having screaming loud, drunken sex at all hours of the day. She let some guy pin her up against the window while he fucked her from behind, right in the middle of the afternoon. Everyone saw, including kids. But what am I supposed to do, let her be homeless?” Charity opens a cupboard door just to slam it shut again.

  “We’ve got to get her to stop drinking.”

  “Good luck with that, I’ve tried and tried.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t know what to do,” I say, the tears welling again. “I want to stay here to be near you, but I don’t want her near my baby.”

  “You think I want her around my kids? She’s constantly telling my little Brandon how useless men are.”

  “Charity, bring me a beer,” my mother shouts from the living room.

  My sister rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “As if.”

  The distinct noise of a helicopter flies overhead. We both ignore it as there’s an army base nearby and helicopters regularly fly overhead.

  But this one gets louder and louder until the noise is deafening. Out of the window, it’s impossible not to notice the black helicopter landing on the grass outside.

  My mom looks at us with a furrowed brow, her mouth slack. Charity looks worried. I haven’t told my mother or her anything about Leo.

  Leo, who is obviously in that helicopter.

  My heart simultaneously leaps and wrenches.

  During my drive to Tennessee, I wrote down Anna’s phone number on a piece of paper and then cut up my SIM card with my nail clippers and tossed it in a restroom garbage. At the time I felt free, like I was starting over.

  But there is a big old helicopter on the lawn pulling me back.

  I rush out the front door, before Leo can knock and encounter my mother.

  He’s walking in my direction, looking amazing in fitted jeans and a tight navy polo shirt. I wipe the earlier tears from my eyes and resolve not to cry or rush into his arms. Which isn’t going to be easy. I forgot how incredible looking he is in person.

  It’s been more than a month since he left me on my doorstep. A long lonely time in which he ignored every I’m pregnant message I sent.

  Sometimes I think my mother is right about men.

  “Grace,” he says, reaching out for my hand. Hearing his rich voice say my name makes my insides crumble, but I resolve to stay strong.

  “Isn’t the helicopter overkill?” I say, my voice as flat as I can make it.

  “I had to get you as fast as I could.”

  “It’s been more than a month. In what world is that fast?”

  “It was a five-day hike on a mountain just to get to my brother. Each way. Trust me, I’ll never forgive him. For anything he’s done, including keeping me away from you.”

  My eyes bore into his, trying to assess the truth. He seems genuine, but I’ve spent the past month heartbroken and furious at him. My anger won’t dissolve in an instant.

  “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” I say, my voice biting and emotion balling in my chest.

  “Don’t fight me, Grace. We belong to each other. Even more now that you’re carrying my child.”

  Hearing Leo acknowledge the pregnancy overwhelms me. All I wanted since I found out was that. All those hundreds of texts that went unanswered. All the voicemail messages. Everything, answered in an instant.

  Leo pulls me against him, and I can’t resist. He wraps his strong arms around me and my body folds against his.

  No longer able to contain my emotions, tears stream down my cheeks. I’m happy, relieved and steaming mad, all at once.

  Chapter 23

  Leo

  Tracking Grace down wasn’t easy. After my calls and texts went unanswered, I had my private investigator go to her apartment while I was on the next leg of my journey home. She’d already moved out, along with her roommate. He found Anna, but she wouldn’t talk to him.

  I made my way to Anna from Bhutan as fast as possible, but it still took days of travel. I’m not used to waiting for free spaces on commercial airlines.

  Once I got back to Kathmandu, my private jet was waiting for me.

  It took me another two days to get the Tennessee address out of Anna.

  And now, here Grace is, in my arms where she belongs.

  Seeing her again, knowing she’s carrying my child, fills my veins with fire. I fight the overwhelming urge to throw her on the ground right here and fuck her senseless just to reinforce my claim on her.

  “Baby, what are you doing here?” I ask.

  Grace pulls back, and looks at me with heavy, tear-stained eyes. “Where else was I supposed to go? I’m pregnant and jobless, both because of you.”

  “I may be the reason you are pregnant, but I have nothing to do with you losing your job.”

  She stares at me, and shakes her head. “It was all Shawna.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You don’t need a job anymore. I’m going to take care of you and our baby,” I say, gripping her hips in my hands.

  “I only need child support, you don’t have to be responsible for me,” she says, her shoulders slumping.

  “Of course I’m going to be responsible for you, and not just financially. Grace, I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you. When I found out you’re carrying my child, I jumped for fucking joy. I’m excited about the baby.”

  “Well, I’m not. I’ve had sex exactly once in my life, and I’m pregnant. How is that fair?”

  “Don’t worry, you’re young, there’s plenty of time for me to make your body sing.”

  “You can’t just turn up here in a helicopter and say these things. You are pretending the last month didn’t happen,” she says, taking a step back.

  I plant my hand firmly on her belly, imagining my baby growing underneath my touch. The image of her belly swelling sends a shiver up my spine. I cannot wait for this child to be born.

  “I can’t help the past month. Trust me, I did everything I could to get to you as fast as possible. But I’m here now, and that’s what matters. I can say that over and over, as many times as you want or need, but it’s always going to be the same. The fact is, this is my baby, and you are my woman. Everything is fine, now the three of us are together,” I say, my voice firm.

  “I was so scared,” she says, her voice a mere whisper.

  “I know you were, but everything is okay now,” I say, stroking her cheek with my thumb.

  “I don’t even know what to think right now.”

  “Don’t think anything, just feel,” I say, drawing her against me.

  Grace gently sobs against my chest. I hold her tight and let her cry. It’s understandable, given how sudden my arrival here today was.

  I glance around at my surroundings. The tiny house is in disrepair, and the yard riddled with junk. The flowerbeds are overgrown, but at least the grass has been cut.

  Something tells me we won’t be staying the night. I need to get her to leave with me now.

  “Who the fuck are you?” a woman screams from the doorway. She is wearing gray track pants and a stained, white T-shirt. She sounds drunk. Very drunk.

  Grace jerks away from me, and says, “Mom, this is Leo.”

  “Is he the one who knocked you up?” she screams.

  Heaving a great sigh, Grace says, “Yes, he’s the father of my child.”

  “Fuck me, and he turned up in a helicopter? My daughter’s done something right for once in her life. You hit the jackpot.”

  Grace winces, and I draped my arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

  “Should we go inside?” I ask.

  “Do we have to?”

  “Mom, get your ass in here and leave them alone,” another woman yells from inside the house. She grabs Grace’s mother and pulls her inside.

  “That’s my sister, Charity. This is her place.”

  “And your mother lives here too?”

  “Unfortunately. She got kicked out of her place because of her drinking and my sister took her in. Even though she’s a single mom with three kids and no money.”

  “Doesn’t the father pay child support?”

  “Three fathers, you mean. Although she doesn’t know who any of them are.”

  Grace’s decision to stay a virgin well into her twenties suddenly makes sense to me. I now understand what she meant when she talked about not being like her mother and sister.

  “Come on,” I say, taking her hand and leading her to the
house. “You have to pack, the sooner we get to New York the better.”

  “New York?”

  “Of course. You are going to move in with me.”

  “I am?” she says, stopping dead in her tracks.

  “It’s where I live, and now where you live too. At least until we figure out somewhere else. The city isn’t exactly an ideal place to raise kids.”

  Grace’s brow is creased, and her lips pursed. She better not be planning to resist the idea.

  “Baby, you are having my child. I need you near me. Hell, even if you weren’t having my child I’d want you near me. I told you I was coming back from you and I meant it.”

  “Do you mean it? I mean, really, truly mean it?”

  “I never say or do anything I don’t mean,” I say, practically growling.

  “Well, my mom does want her seat on the couch back.”

  “You have been sleeping on the sofa?”

  “Not everyone has ten bedrooms,” she says, placing a hand on her hip.

  I ignore the comment, and lead her the rest of the way into the house.

  The sooner we leave this place the better. I want her in New York with me. Naked, in my bed.

  “It’s about time you brought him in here to introduce him to me. Charity, get us some beers,” Grace’s mother says.

  “Mom, can you leave us alone, please,” Grace says.

  “Hey, this is my house, don’t you tell me what to do,” the mother says, her words slurred and her eyes glassy.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Leo, the father of Grace’s baby,” I say, extending my hand.

  “Where did you get a helicopter from? How much money do you have?”

  “I rented it, and I have about two billion dollars.”

  She stares at me, her drunken brain trying to compute what I just told her. A glass shatters, and I look up to see Charity staring at me, her jaw slack and glass shards at her feet.

  “Mom, Leo came to take me to New York to live so he can be near the baby,” Grace says, squeezing my hand.

  I’m glad she’s just agreed to move in with me, but I can’t help thinking it’s as much to get away from her living situation here as it is to be with me.

  “But first Grace wants me to tell you that I’ve secured a spot for you at the Betty Ford Center in California. You get to go hang out with all the stars.”

 

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