Black Regrets (A Kelly Black Affair Book 4)

by C. J. Thomas

  Alex was the one who needed closure. The one who could find peace with what happened to her own parents. She didn’t hide from how she felt, and I knew better than anybody else how badly she wished she could have the chance I was about to have.

  “This is where you grew up?” Alex’s eyes widened as she peered out the front windshield.

  The moment the wheels stopped and Alex parked, my eyes followed the cracked concrete pathway all the way to the front door. “Yeah.”

  “I can stay and wait for you.”

  Unable to peel my eyes away from the tiny house I’d grown up in, I began to guess what waited for me on the other side of those walls.

  “Kendra, baby, it’s not a problem.”

  “No.” I sighed. “You go on ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Turning, I nodded and smiled. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “Call me if you need me.”

  Unbuckling myself, I knew that even if things went well with my parents I still had to get on with fulfilling my duties requested by Madam. Alex knew nothing about that, and I wasn’t about to worry her with those details.

  “Thanks.” I smiled and we hugged before I opened the car door, taking one step closer to reacquainting myself with the two people who ultimately failed me beyond forgiveness.

  Alex leaned over the center. “Love you.”

  Latching onto my tote with a white-knuckled grip, I bent down and said, “Love you more.”

  Alex smiled, letting me have this one without telling me that it was impossible to love her more than she loved me. We always wanted to outdo each other with expressing how much we loved the other. Today, it was me with the biggest heart.

  Closing the door, I watched Alex spin the car around and drive away in the same direction we’d come. Sucking back a deep breath, I let my gaze travel over the desert dry yards. Even that hadn’t changed since I was a kid. And though the buildings were now older and more dilapidated than they once were, the neighborhood was essentially the same.

  Turning back to the house, I lifted my chin and rolled my shoulders back.

  It was amazing that I’d managed to break free from the continual cycle of poverty and limited opportunity that this neighborhood was notorious for. I could even smell the general loss of hope that reeked of this area.

  On my next step, Kelly Black hit my thoughts.

  I smiled, thinking how the man managed to open my eyes to what could be possible.

  And the world suddenly looked brighter.

  Then I stepped again and I could still hear the neighborhood kids screaming and singing from so long ago as I made my way to the front door.

  My resolve grew the closer I got, and once I was within reach I didn’t hesitate to jab my finger on the doorbell, alerting my parents to my arrival. With my nerves threatening to get the best of me, Mom answered the door before I could hightail it away from my past.

  We both stood there and stared for a minute without saying a word. Then she teared up, extending her arms out to the sides, wrapping me up in the type of all-consuming hug only a mother could give.

  Even though I hugged her back, I wasn’t sure I was as ready to embrace her the same way as she was me. I still hadn’t forgiven her for what she didn’t do so long ago. And I wasn’t sure I ever could.

  Pulling back, there was immense joy inside those wet eyes of hers. “Come inside, baby. Let me make you some tea.”

  Following her inside, I looked around as if the place was foreign to me. Nothing had changed. It was exactly the same as when I left. From the arrangement of the furniture to the blankets that draped over the back of the couch. Even the smell—sourdough and sugar—was the exact same as I remembered. And though all these things should have made me feel comfortable, all I wanted to do was leave.

  Mom came out of the kitchen fast enough to make me think that she already had the tea made prior to my arrival. She set the mugs on the coffee table out in front and sat on the far edge of the couch, pouring each of the mugs full.

  I followed her lead, taking up residence on the opposite end, quick to reach for my tea. I needed something to do, something to hold on to, to settle my anxiety. I wasn’t good at small talk, didn’t know how to ease into the conversation I really wanted to have with her. So I just sat there staring into her aged eyes, wondering where the years had gone.

  “You look beautiful, Kendra.” Mom smiled from behind the rim of her mug.

  “I’m a woman now, Mom.”

  “Not my little girl anymore.”

  Knowing I might regret it, it was the first thought that came to mind so I said it. “I’ll always be your little girl.”

  She laughed, sipping her tea. Her movements were fluid and, though she never said it, I knew she was happy to finally be sitting next to me again. “I’ve been thinking about you lots.”

  My brows raised as I cast my gaze into my tea.

  “Wondering if my little girl was even still alive.”

  I swallowed the mint tea. “Not dead yet.”

  She laughed but it wasn’t meant to be funny. “I’m so glad you called.”

  Lowering my mug to my lap, I kept my eye on Mom. She was older, but I could see she still had her wit about her. Growing up, Mom always was the one to keep us grounded. Never letting our egos get to big or our accomplishments go without recognition. “How is Dad doing?”

  Her face tightened. “He’s in the back.”

  Nodding, I felt my skin flush.

  Out of the corner of her eye she smiled. “He asks about you all the time.”

  The muscles in my stomach hardened. “Did you tell him I called?”

  She nodded as uncertainty flashed over her eyes.

  Straightening my spine, I asked, “What is it, Ma?”

  Her eyes rounded and began to water again. Then she covered her mouth, ducked her head, and started crying. “It’s just that I didn’t think you would see him before it was too late.”

  Moving over to her, I rubbed her bony shoulders with my hand. She felt so fragile, more delicate than what I remembered. Growing up, she was the first to give my bottom a good whoopin’ when I did something I shouldn’t have done.

  Lifting her head, she fixed her gaze with mine. “It’s so exhausting. This disease he has, it’s awful. He can’t do much by himself, barely able to talk. It’s all on me …”

  “I read up on it.” I pulled my hand away, blinking the dry out of my eye.

  Turning her head, she said, “He would love to see you.”

  Scooting away, I mumbled, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ma.”

  My fist clenched unknowingly on top of my thigh as old feelings of hate quickly drowned me. I was still so angry at Dad for allowing my uncle into my bedroom as a child. He knew what was happening, yet he did nothing. This was all his fault. Not mine. Everything that happened—me getting raped, me running away from home, me choosing not to talk with my parents for all these years—it was all his fault.

  “Marvin said you might call—” the joy was back in Mom’s eyes “—if I kept praying.”

  My body temperature spiked. I knew Uncle Marvin was behind this. He always was. I had my suspicions as to why, but I bit my tongue hoping Mom would reveal the motive sooner or later.

  “Which I did.” Mom nodded. “Everyday. Mmm hmmm.” She smiled, glancing to the ceiling as if speaking to the Lord himself. “You know he’s back in the area?” Mom lowered her hand and let her gaze fall back to me.

  She looked happy about my uncle being back. And it made me sick. Feeling used, all I could say was, “I saw him the other day.”

  “You did?!” Mom slapped her hand down on her knee. “I didn’t know that.”

  “He gave me Grandma’s will, Ma.” My tone was reserved.

  Her spine slumped as her eyes blinked.

  My brow knitted. “Why would Uncle Marvin reach out to me?”

  “I didn’t know he did,” Mom muttered. Then she perked up. “Though he
said that if we could find you that you might be able to help.”

  I cringed away from her. I didn’t need to ask what she needed help with. I already knew. But I asked anyway, just so I could call her out on her own flaws. “Help with what?”

  “The costs of Dad’s care,” she said, matter of fact. “After all, it was his parents who gave you all that money.”

  I stared at my mom in utter disbelief. I regretted coming at all. This wasn’t about reuniting, this was about stealing my money in order to save Dad from having to experience a miserable death due to ALS complications.

  Standing, I shoved my fingers through my hair feeling like I was about to explode. “Do you even know what happened to me, Ma?”

  Frowning, she fumbled over her words.

  “Your brother raped me.” A million different emotions hit my heart. In that moment, I felt free, trapped, hurt, sad, angry, and so much more.

  Feeling my chest heave up and down, I watched the lines on Mom’s face deepen. She shook her head and said, “No. That’s not true.”

  “Dad knew about it,” I growled.

  Mom stood and squared her shoulders. “Lies!”

  My eyes flooded with tears. Spilling over my cheeks, I started crying. “And neither of you did anything!”

  Mom’s mouth snapped shut. But her challenging eyes never left me. “Then that explains it.”

  “Explains what?” I yelled.

  “Why you’re in your current profession.” She frowned, a look of disgust weighing her cheeks down.

  I vacantly stared at her.

  “I know what you do, Kendra.”

  “Then why did you ask me the other day?”

  She gave the same stern look of disappointment she used to give me as a child. “Escorting? The skin trade? I didn’t raise my daughter to be a whore.”

  Her words were like a sledgehammer hitting my chest. All the air was knocked out of me. In a split second, she had brought me to my knees. I couldn’t breathe. Didn’t know how to react. If I should fight or just let it go, knowing I would never win with her. She knew about my life secrets even before she knew where I was.

  Taking a step back, I started shaking my head.

  “I promised not to judge.” Mom’s lips pinched. “The good Lord will be the one to do that.”

  Then it hit me.

  My uncle told her.

  Told her everything he knew about me. I’d let my guard down and he got past my gate. And, because of it, this was what I got. “If Dad wasn’t sick, would you have even wanted to see me?”

  “You left the family.” Mom stomped her foot. “That was your choice.”

  “I left because I wasn’t safe.” I gritted my teeth and looked around. “I’ve never felt safe in this house.”

  Mom’s face softened. “Your father needs you.” She stepped closer to me. “We both need you. Family comes first.” Her lips tugged to her ears as she softened her tone. “Isn’t that right, baby? You understand. I know you do.”

  Turning away, I dropped my head into my hands.

  “Look, Kendra,” Mom rested her hand on my arm. “I don’t care where your money is coming from.”

  Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I bared my teeth. “You just want it?”

  “We need it.” She smoothed her clamped fingers down my arm. “We need you to come through for us. You’re all we have.”

  Brushing her hand off my arm, I turned to the couch, gathered my things, and marched to the door.

  “Where are you going, Kendra?”

  “A girl’s gotta work,” I said, grabbing my pussy. Glancing over my shoulder, I narrowed my gaze and hissed, “After all, that’s how I pay the bills, right?”

  27

  Kelly

  After receiving Maxwell’s call, I had to see it for myself.

  Kendra couldn’t be gone.

  I’d explicitly told her she couldn’t leave. But Kendra had a mind of her own.

  All I could think about on my way back from Parker’s was how, if anything happened to her, I couldn’t live with myself. She was opening my heart to things I hadn’t felt for so long. I needed her as much as she needed me. And it destroyed me to know there was too much going on around us for me to guarantee her safety. But that didn’t mean that she would listen.

  With control and a little bit of hesitation, I opened the front door to my apartment with a racing heart. Casting my gaze to the floor, Kendra’s heels were in the doorway, kicked off to the side.

  I bowed my head before stepping further inside.

  Her opened tote bag rested on the kitchen island counter and relief swept over me when I found her sitting quietly on the couch.

  Shutting the door behind me, my dick hardened and pressed against my zipper I was so happy to see her. Immediately turned on, I wanted to make love to her for the rest of the afternoon, taking advantage of every minute we spent together. I wanted to feel her body pressed against mine, taste her lips on my tongue, forget everything that threatened each of our existences.

  Not bothering to remove my shoes, I moved further into the house. Kendra never once turned to acknowledge my arrival. It was like she was deaf, lost inside her head and paralyzed by her thoughts.

  My mind raced through the possibilities. Anything could have happened since I’d seen her last. The Madam. Angelina Davis. Sylvia Neil. Oscar Buchanan. Timothy Parker. Anyone one of them could have gotten to her—filled her head with lies.

  It wasn’t until I passed the dining room that I realized she was hugging her knees to her chest, nursing a glass of white wine. With my blood pressure still high from my conversation with Parker, I didn’t know what to think of Maxwell’s warning.

  Slowly, I sauntered over to her, cautiously approaching her as I thought about what might have happened. My gaze moved over the messy bun she had tied on top of her head, down to her shoulders covered in one of my bathrobes. Her hair was damp from the bath she must have taken and she smelled of fruity fragrances that did little to calm my arousal.

  When I saw what she was doing next, I came to a stop, holding my breath with fear.

  I wanted to say something. Tell her to stop. But all I could do was stand there and think, not her, too.

  Over and over, Kendra followed the red line on her skin with her sharp fingernail. Her pulse ticked in her wrist, but the intention and thought were there. One slice. One cut. And she’d bleed out, never to come back again.

  I understood the all-consuming darkness better than anybody. I had been there many times myself. Feeling like it was the only way out—the only way to stop the unbearable pain that followed you wherever you went.

  But I couldn’t allow her to go through with it. I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed her. And she needed me. We were meant to be together.

  Drawing back, I was being unnaturally quiet as I thought about the root of her challenges.

  Maybe that was what Maxwell meant by Kendra being gone. Gone inside her head. She wasn’t herself. Because Maxwell wasn’t one to usually call unless it was something serious. And the fact that Kendra hadn’t yet turned to acknowledge my presence was cause for concern, in and of itself. The world around her meant nothing. What she was doing to her wrist was enough to make me believe that she was thinking about actually doing it. And it was my duty to let it be known how much she was needed by me.

  “Bella, baby.” My fingers stretched as I let my hand drift down to her shoulders.

  Kendra flinched upon contact.

  Agony hit my gut. Her rejection hurt. Badly.

  I stared with round, wide eyes, listening to my shallow breath wheeze past my parted lips. I was past feeling worried. She wasn’t herself, and I needed to get her to talk before she let this get too far.

  Feeling the negative energy surrounding her, I said, “Kendra, it’s me.”

  Without turning to look me in the eye, she dropped her chin and hid her head inside her hands. Not long after that, she started to cry.

  It was difficult to not l
et my own thoughts turn inward and relive past events. But as I hurried around the side of the couch, that was exactly what I did. Falling into the same cushion she filled up, I wrapped her in my arms. She didn’t fight me. Didn’t resist. Her muscles were loose as I pulled her head against my chest. Her body trembled against mine and I couldn’t help but feel that this was somehow my fault.

  She was broken. Perhaps more broken than I was. And I wanted to heal her. Find out what happened today to make her lose all hope. As hard as it was for me, I remained quiet, letting her shed the tears she needed to spill.

  I didn’t speak for the longest time, and it wasn’t until she eventually calmed when I finally ask what happened—fearing that the danger I knew she was in had come to visit her today.

  Her sobs grew louder, and soon she had her nose nuzzled deep into my arm.

  “You need to tell me what happened,” I whispered, feeling my shirt grow damp from the tears cascading down her cheeks.

  Sucking back a breath, she said, “It’s awful, Kelly.”

  I had never seen her quite like this, but there was enough similarity to make me think that maybe her uncle found a way to approach her again. Fearing that she would relapse and I would be the cause of another trigger, I was afraid to ask. Her uncle always seemed to find a way to her when I wasn’t around. Grinding my teeth, I felt like I had failed to protect her.

  “Did your uncle find you? Did he come here?”

  She latched onto my arm tighter. Shaking her head, she wiped her nose.

  When I closed my eyes, Sylvia’s face flashed behind my lids. Like a movie reel, the events of the last 72 hours played on my mind. First the note—Look what you made me do. And then the second letter, the one Parker sent me home with. They both were specifically targeting me—threatening all that I loved, including Kendra. And that was why I couldn’t stop thinking about that one specific line. The sentence that said, The next one might be someone close to you.

  I pressed my lips against her head. Her hair was soft and smelled amazing. Squeezing her upper arms, my hands traveled her body, needing to feel every inch of her before tangling my fingers in her hair.