Black Rose (Lewiston Blues Series/Black Family Saga Book 3)

by Scully, Felicia X.

  I decide, on the spot, to test a theory. “I’m so tired,” I say. “I know that sounds ridiculous coming from a girl who’s supposed to be on vacation, but it’s true. And I know how much trouble you must have gone through to put this all together, but would you be pissed if I asked for a rain check? I just want to go home and take a hot bath.”

  “I could give you a hot bath.” He kisses my ear and a shiver runs through me.

  “That’s not exactly the kind of bath I was thinking of,” I reply.

  Dash stiffens and I’m almost positive I can see where this is going to go, but instead he says, “Whatever you want, babe. Just call me tomorrow.”

  For the first time ever it seems he’s finally become the guy I’ve always wanted him to be.

  The moment I see him, I don’t waste any time making my way into his backyard. He’s sitting on the first step and I stand in front of him, doing my best to prepare myself for the conversation I know I have to have. Luke offers me a beer, but I decline, wringing my hands in front of me.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “I need to ask you something.”

  He scratches his head. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Do you think it’s possible for people to change?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if someone’s always been one way and you’ve always imagined they could be another way, do think it’s possible for them to get that way—without you making them?”

  He leans back, crossing his arms a peering at me from curious eyes. “I guess.”

  “I don’t want you to guess, Luke. I want to know what you really think.”

  He frowns. “Okay, then yes. I think people are capable of change. Look at my me. Harsh as it seems, I never thought in a million years I’d care whether or not my mom lived or died. But now all I want is for her to breathe another day. I fought for it.”

  “That’s different. She’s your mom.”

  “Different than what?”

  “Well, some people deserve the harsh treatment they get. Based on the things they’ve done.”

  “You don’t really believe that.”

  I drop my gaze. He’s right. I don’t believe it for a second. “I guess not.”

  “The truth of the matter is some people lead fucked up lives. They have to deal with things worse than we can possibly imagine—day in, day out. Doesn’t mean they deserve to be punished for it and it doesn’t mean they can’t change, break the cycle. My mom did. So I guess my answer is still yes, people can change. She became a person I always wanted her to be. Years later, sure. But it still happened and I have to give her credit for that.”

  I nod slowly, my chest beginning to ache it’s tightened so much in the last thirty seconds.

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  I can see he’s already started to put two and two together and I’m starting to wish I hadn’t taken this route. I’m starting to wish I’d tried to sort this whole mess out on my own.

  “You’re staying with him, aren’t you?”

  I pinch my lips together and close my eyes, drawing a deep breath.

  “Coco,” he says, his voice breaking. “Don’t do this. I didn’t mean…” He huffs then rubs his eyes. “Please.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say through a shuddering breath. “But he has changed.”

  “Just like that? Really?” He gets up from the step, turning his back on me.

  “Luke,” I call after him as he makes his way slowly across the porch. Slowly, because I hope he’s at least willing to hear me out, at least willing to let me explain.

  He turns half-way, gaze cast downward but doesn’t say anything.

  “It’s complicated.” It’s the worst kind of excuse but I don’t even know what else to say. It is complicated. It’s completely messed up. I’ve been in love with Dash forever, but what I feel for Luke is turning me inside out. It’s bringing out something I haven’t felt in years. And that night…I can’t forget it. Don’t even want to. I’m not sure what that makes me, but I don’t much care anymore.

  “I don’t want to complicate your life, Puffs. I just thought after everything, you’d see things my way. Kind of like one of those guys in those stupid movies you’re always going on about. I guess this is just some grand gesture shit that back fired.” He chuckles, but it’s forced—fake, the sound of it squeezing my chest.

  “Luke, wait.” Abandoning my post on the bottom step, I hurry up the stairs. “I care about you. I really do. And you’re right, over the past few weeks things have turned into something, but it doesn’t change my circumstance. I’m with Dash. And I can’t just leave him. Not after all this time.”

  “I think maybe you like the pain he causes you, Cocanda. Maybe you enjoy being broken. Either that or you’re just so damn used to it. But the truth is—and I know this because it’s my truth too—you can leave him anytime you want.” His back is still to me as he adds, “Maybe now’s as good a time as any.”

  I shake my head, so stunned I don’t know how to respond.

  Luke just stands there. He doesn’t say another word, but by the way his shoulders are heaving up and down I can tell he’s angry.

  I touch his arm and his body relaxes a little. “I wish things were different,” I say. “I wish they’d changed years ago. But this is how things are now and I have to do what’s right. Dash has made mistakes. I’m not denying that but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a chance. He deserves to be loved.”

  “Sure he does. Everyone does. Even you.” He turns to face me. “Especially you.”

  Even though I probably should, I don’t back up when Luke’s hand cups my face. And I don’t put up a fight when he pulls me closer. When his gaze refuses to relent, I’m not the one who decides to break it. I just let it happen. I let him kiss me. I let him own all of me for those few beautiful seconds. I even take a little of him. Because I’m not exactly sure I’m capable of leaving it all behind.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Luke

  Two Weeks Later

  I tried to find a new addiction. I tried so hard, I failed. And now I’m right back where I started—sitting at home, alone, and feeling sorry for myself. I haven’t slept—which considering the amount of alcohol currently flowing through my system should be considered some kind of miracle. I tip a bottle to my lips that seems to weigh as much as all the disappointment in my life and lean my head back, staring up at the stars. Wishing I could get as far away as they are. Wishing I’d never bothered with all this change in the first place. And there’s only one person to blame—my damn mother. I know it’s not really her fault, I know the decisions I made were my own, but she’s the one who really convinced me in the end. While I should be sitting here—not alone—and celebrating our rekindled mother-son relationship by spending time with the girl she all but talked me into winning over, I’m sitting her hating her all over again.

  I was cocky. Over confident. I thought my bond with Coco, the one that simmered for years, was stronger than anything she could possibly have with him. What I wasn't counting on was that the amazing person she is would play a role in destroying a relationship that could be just as amazing.

  I feel like I want to cry, but the tears just won’t come. They never come. They just get lodged in my chest, forcing their way up my throat and strangling me until I’m left breathless.

  “Luke?”

  I sit at attention, wrestling to gain my wits. “Puffs?” No matter how hard I try to disguise my current state, there’s a pronounced slur in my tone. I rub my face and sit up even straighter, squinting into the night to ensure I’m not hallucinating.

  “You’re drunk.” She’s suddenly at my side and it seems like the world is tilting on its axis. “You didn’t hear the doorbell.”

  “You always come through the back.” She’s holding onto me, the scent of her sending me into a tailspin. “You’re back. You came back.”


  “You have to get up, Luke.”

  “Let’s just stay here.” I hold her face between my hands, hoping for a kiss. As though it’s the only way to really be sure I’m not dreaming. “Let’s just stay here and talk.”

  She’s shaking her head. I can feel it moving back and forth between my hands. “Get up,” she says. “It’s important.”

  I oblige, allowing her to hold me upright as we make our way into the house.

  “I thought I lost you forever. But I knew you’d come back.”

  “Luke,” she pleads. “You need to snap out of it. You need to get up.”

  It’s only then I realize I’ve sunk to the floor, my head to my knees.

  I watch her retreating footsteps, bleary-eyed. The front door opens and I hear voices, but I can’t decipher any of it. I’m finally falling. Finally giving in.

  “Get him in the shower,” I hear someone say.

  Some guy. But it’s not my brother. Lucky bastard’s still locked away in that goddamn hotel with his girl. Enjoying her the way I should be enjoying mine. I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t even know where mine is anymore. And she’s not even mine.

  “Coco?” I call out.

  I smell her before I feel her arms around my waist, helping me to my feet. “Maybe if you tell him,” she says.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Whoever he is, it better not be Dash Martin. Because I think this time I won’t be able to stop myself from squeezing that thick neck of his until he never says another word again. “Luke,” he asks. “Where’s Ross?”

  “Getting laid,” I replied. “Lucky fucking bastard.” I slump back down on the floor.

  “Luke, you need to get up now. Let your friend take you to the shower.”

  I scoff. “She’s not my friend,” I say. The bitterness of our situation suddenly taking over. “I’ve got enough friends.”

  “Stop it,” she snaps. “Just stop being a dick and listen to him.” She tugs at me, standing me upright again. “It’s important.”

  “What could be so goddamn important?”

  When she wraps both arms around my waist, squeezing me before she leans her head on my chest, I feel like I might explode. She shouldn’t be touching me like this. She shouldn’t be touching me at all. Especially if I’m not the one she wants.

  “It’s about your mother,” she whispers, never letting go.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Coco

  I haven’t left his side. He didn’t put up much of a fight when I led him upstairs to the bathroom. When I helped him out of his clothes, stripped him down to his boxers, he watched me, but I don’t think he actually saw me. Not really.

  I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as close to me as possible. His bare skin, radiated an intoxicating heat through my sundress. The thoughts I had in that moment went against everything I’d decided. Everything I thought was right and just like that I was wrapped up in fantasies of the past. In a reality that was right at my fingertips.

  Luke held onto me, but I don’t know if he felt what I did, or if he was simply grasping at some kind of stability. All I wanted to do was give it to him. I wanted to give him all of me, if it meant he’d be okay.

  I led him into the bathroom. I tried to help him into the tub, but instead he sat on the edge of it. It’s the same place he’s been sitting for the past hour, staring past an invisible veil. He hasn’t said a word or moved a millimeter. His drunken ramblings came to a halt the moment Doctor Chambers shared the awful news about his mother. News that seemed to crush him from the inside out.

  I sit next to him, hooking an arm around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder. I want to tell him it’ll be okay, but I know it won’t. Even as a toddler the death of my mother affected me in ways I can’t describe. It changed me, ripped something out of me that will probably never be replaced.

  I rest my free hand on his bare thigh, stroking him gently and letting out a heavy sigh. It’s all I have to offer. It isn’t much and it’s definitely not enough, but it’s all I have.

  I hear a car door slam next door and though my senses perk, my body doesn’t move. I’m sure it’s Dash. He’s been in celebration-mode ever since his announcement. Taking me to dinner every night, buying me jewelry, chocolate, roses. Red and absolutely gorgeous roses that are beginning to take over my dining room table. But of the dozens of flowers I’ve received in the past two weeks, none of them have had the impact of the ten black roses Luke sent. None of them have stayed with me. I can’t tell one from the other and none of them hold any real significance.

  I should run next door, explain the situation. He wouldn’t be happy, but he’d have to understand. He’d have to know that right here, where I am right now, is where I need to be. The truth is so potent, I can’t even bring myself to leave him alone for a second, let alone the twenty minutes it’ll take Dash to finally give up and go home.

  His horn blares and Luke flinches. I peer up at him, pressing my palm against his cheek.

  “Are you okay?”

  He looks down at me and when a single tear trails down his left cheek, my heart splits in two. It’s followed by another and another, until my boy next door is a sobbing heap in my lap.

  “Luke,” I whisper, stroking his hair. And because I don’t know what else I can possibly say, “Luke.”

  I don’t know how long we sit there, his arms locked around my waist, my hands in his hair, but he finally looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

  “Coco…” Whatever it is he has to say slips into the crack in his voice, gone forever.

  I help him to his feet and out of his boxers. My gaze lingers and I’m not at all ashamed. If it’s wrong to watch him this way, it doesn’t feel like it. In fact, it almost feels natural. As much as my instincts are leading me to remove my own clothing, I stay robed in the thin cotton dress and reach over to turn on the shower.

  He steps inside with no fuss this time, the hot water rolling over every hard edge and every soft curve. When I finally have the sense to look away, he’s watching me. And when I move to close the shower curtain, he grabs my hand, gently tugging me forward.

  “I just need you to hold me again,” he rasps.

  I should say no. But I convince myself that he really does need me and not for the reasons he’s likely implying, but because he’s been drinking. A lot. He shouldn’t be in the shower alone. Anything could happen. Anything.

  I step over the edge and into the tub, dress and all. He doesn’t make any kind of attempt to disrobe me. He just holds me at arms length for a moment, watching as the water suctions the white material to my skin. I blink against the stream, pushing my hair out of my face with both hands. And when he turns halfway, bracing himself, palms splayed against the wall, I do as he’s asked. I duck underneath his arms to stand in between them and step forward, linking mine around his solid waist and resting my cheek against his firm chest.

  Luke lowers his arms and plants one firmly across my back, holding me in place. The other hand slides slowly up the nape of my neck, lingering beneath the fall of my hair. His fingers press into my flesh and I tilt my head upwards, just as he lowers his.

  Kissing him again feels like I’ve been thirsty for days and, no matter what I’ve consumed, it hasn’t been enough. Molding my lips with his reminds me of all the reasons I ended up in his arms in the first place. As the kiss deepens and the tips of my fingers sense the rapid beating of his heart, I slowly begin to forget why I’m here. Why I ever left. Why I’m still wearing this dress. Where I even am.

  The only thing keeping me here, in the now, is the feeling of his skin beneath my own. The contours of his body slipping beneath my fingertips, the nipping of his teeth on the inner flesh of my mouth. I’m suddenly boiling in this dress, too constricted to be remotely comfortable. Luke’s hands roam to the hem, as if he’s reading my mind. As the sodden fabric moves up my legs, I lean back against the tile taking him with me, my fingers tangled in his hair. His length against
my bare stomach has me completely undone. Ready to throw in the towel, to take what I now realize has been mine for all these years. To give him what has always been his.

  With a hand on either ass cheek, Luke hoists me up and I lock him against me with my legs, my body grinding instinctively against his. My most sensitive parts bursting with anticipation.

  My dress is still in the way, barring a connection I’m craving so badly I think I might scream. I do my best to work it the rest of the way upward, over my waist, up my chest. But I can’t bring myself to pull it over my head. Not if it means this kiss has to end.

  Luke pulls away first and the whimper of disappointment that tumbles from my lips should embarrass me, but instead I quickly discard my dress and grasp for him, hungry for more.

  But he leans his head back. “You should go.”

  His words take a moment to reach me, my body still working to catch up. “What?”

  “You should go,” he says again without hesitation, easing me back to a standing position. “And so should I.”

  “Luke, I’m—”

  “Where’s Ross?” he reaches forward and shuts off the faucet.

  “What?” I hug myself, the responding chill instant.

  “My brother, where is he?”

  “I—he’s with Sheila, like you said. Doctor Chambers is trying to track them down. You didn’t say what hotel so he wasn’t—”

  “They’re in Pullman.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, he gave me his pager number. So I’ll just—”

  “I should go. You stay here in case he comes back.” He hands me a towel and steps out of the shower.

  “But you’ve been drinking. Maybe I should drive.”

  He wraps a towel around his waist, his gaze not meeting mine. And, for the first time, I notice there’s still a significant bulge. I force my gaze up to meet his steady one. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”