by Leigh Lennon
Gus begins, “You’re lucky, I normally would let him take care of you himself, but you—my fucked-up friend—are going to lose everything for this.”
Neal’s slimy face reaches mine. “You don’t know everything. I’ll ruin Liz.”
Gus chuckles. “I’m a cop, you crazy son-of-a-bitch. Do you really want to add blackmail to your charges?”
Placing my palms on the table, my face is mere inches from him. “I know enough. I know your father watched as Liz miscarried our baby. I’m aware your father blackmailed her father into you marrying her to keep this secret. I know about Candace being Liz’s daughter. I know about you all having a part to play in the murder of my own baby.” The volume of my booming voice increases as I continue.
Gus and EZ are behind me, muttering, “Holy fuck,” in unison over this revelation.
Somehow throughout all of this, his lips twitch up in a smirk that I’m three seconds away from smacking off his face. “There’s more. A secret Liz never wants Candace to know.”
Of course—he knows it all. “So what, you know who the father is? Candace will get over whatever jacked up piece of shit abandoned Liz when she got pregnant.”
His smile has grown when he stands. “Of course I know who the father is. You’re looking at him.”
I stumble for my footing, although my palms are still on the table. No wonder Liz had planned to take this secret to her grave. Her child’s biological father almost killed her, just as Liz’s own father could’ve killed her when he threw her down the stairs. “You sick motherfucker. How could you ever hurt your own daughter?” I ask.
“I never fucking wanted her.” His face still has a goofy smile plastered all over it. “I never loved Liz. I just wanted her money.”
Gus leans into me. “I’m turning around for a brief second. So is EZ. Have at it.” In one fluid motion, as I bring my arm back to gain as much momentum as I can multiply, I hit his jaw with such force I knock him out of his chair.
Gus turns back around and taps me on the shoulder when he quietly whispers, “I have it from here. Go back and be with your girl, Iz.”
I don’t give that motherfucker another glance. Liz is my only concern and getting back to her is all I want.
I’m in the hospital when my text alerts start going off, one after another.
Lang: Where are you? Where’s Liz’s phone? She’s trying to get ahold of you. You need to get up here now.
All the other alerts are the same and the elevator to the wing Lang has Candy on seems to stop at every level. I’m replying but none of my texts go through. The second the elevator reaches the correct floor, my body takes off in a sprint, ready to get to Liz. Every worst-case scenario plays out in a second. Tearing open the door, Liz is over Candace’s body crying with Lang on the other side, near all the machines.
Lang doesn’t take his gaze off his girl and my own girl is my concern. “Liz, honey, what’s wrong?”
As Liz turns away from Candace’s body, I see the girl that used to hop on my knee, asking for me to play horsey with her, weakly smiling. Liz’s tears are those of joy, pure elation. Once my heart rate levels out, I lean down, kissing Candy on the cheek. She’s groggy and hasn’t spoken. At times, she dozes off. But she has awoken from the coma; more awake than the Doc thought she’d be at this stage.
“Sweetheart, you gave us a scare.” She smiles at me and it looks as though this very function causes her much pain and effort. But with her being awake, it’s a little victory I’ll take. Liz latches on to me, still with her face soaked. Candy watches us intently. So much has happened since yesterday when she was admitted. She points to Liz and me, trying to ask the question her mouth won’t let her form.
Liz caresses her daughter’s hand. “Iz and I are a couple.” Giving us a weak thumbs-up, she turns to Lang, staring at him. Pulling Liz away, barely, I whisper, “Let’s give them some time.” Though this is the last thing she wants, she agrees and we leave Lang and Candy to be for now.
The second we’re back in our private room, she finds comfort in my arms. “Oh, Iz. I know it’s going to be a long haul but she’s awake.”
Trying to dry her cheeks, I’m quiet, content to hold her for now. Pushing away from me for a brief second, she questions, “Where’d you go?”
My hands are free and I rub my face, ready to tell Liz everything from setting Neal up to meet me at my building, to EZ and Gus, and me knocking him on his ass. I wait to share the rest of his confession.
“You mean, it’s over? Neal is out of my life?”
“Believe me, I’ll be calling in as many favors from the DA to ensure he stays as far away from you as possible. Gus is even talking attempted murder charges.” My voice trails. She grabs my chin, her eyes narrowing in on my own.
“Iz, what aren’t you telling me?” Her voice is shaky and her hands tremble, waiting for my answer.
“Buttercup, I understand now why you’d keep Candace’s father from her.” Her chin hits her chest at the realization of my confession. “After what he did, you don’t want her to have to sift through years of questioning how her own father could hurt her as much as your own father did.”
Her head rests on my chest. “Israel Laita, there’s not a man on this planet that gets me like you do.” Her head stays put, as near to my heart as she can get. “It’s the reason I decided to give up my own happiness. I never want her to know her father hates her, just like Daddy hated me.”
It’s my turn to do the one thing in life that no other man has ever done for her. Whispering in her ear, I start, “Liz, you’re worth all the fortune, and then some, that I have. I gave you up so long ago, not understandin’ the hatred that surrounds you. But you’re the most givin’ and lovin’ person in this world. You would have to be to love like you do.” Tipping her head up to mine, I continue, “I know this is quick but I’m ready for it all—you and me—together.”
“Iz.” She takes her index finger to hush me as I’ve done to her so many times. My heart stammers—of course she’s not ready to be rushed. Her life has been upside down for too long. I drop my head when she begins, “You have always been too long-winded for your own good. If you’re asking me to live the rest of my life with you, just fucking shut up! Because the answer will always be yes.” There’s my dirty, trash-talking Buttercup and I love her more with every filthy word that flies from her lips. I love her with every smile she gives me, and when I think I can’t love her anymore, it continues with her laugh, her walk, the fuck-me heels she wears, and every little Liz-ism that’s her.
Pulling my arms around her, I answer, “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
Wrapping her hand around my neck, her only reply is, “Took you fucking long enough.” Her words are the truth—so fucking true!
8 years ago
Nev has been teething and Kendra’s been gone in Milan for a photo shoot. I guess that’s the life of a supermodel. Our arrangement is easy; she models internationally in my off-season so Nev isn’t left with a nanny. My mama and daddy put me and my sister Natalia first and Kendra and I swore we’d do the same.
I love Kendra and this baby in my arms is my world, but my thoughts are never too far from Liz. I hope she’s happy, it’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.
31
Liz
Iz wasn’t joking. He gave me a week after we both agreed to a life together. I didn’t know if he was asking for marriage, but it didn’t matter. Married or not, I want to be with him, grow old, raise a family, and make love only to his large, strong body.
When I finally make it back to my apartment, I find it packed up. With Iz one step behind me, I turn on my toes, knowing he was behind this. “We’re plannin’ our future together. It starts with you sleepin’ in my bed, or any bed I’m in. You want to stay here, that’s fine. I’ll move my stuff in. And before you get all up in a tizzy, Lang had Candy’s stuff packed and moved to his apartment well before I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“You’
re a fucking caveman.” My attempt at throwing a tizzy at Iz is short-lived because honestly, being taken care of by him is wonderful.
“I see that smile, Buttercup.” His smirk ignites my own. “But honestly, Liz, we can move anywhere. I love my penthouse but you pick a place and I’m there, as long as you’re with me.”
I let the question linger in the air for a minute. “Can I decorate your place?”
“What—out of all the places we can live, you want to stay there?” he questions me.
“Of course, I love it all. Maybe one day we can get a place at the beach for the weekends,” I add, with the understanding it will be a joint venture.
“Fuck, Liz. You want a place at the beach? We can go get one this weekend. Malibu?”
I can only shake my head at him. “You talk like buying a house is like purchasing a pair of jeans. Oh, I need a house. We’ll go get it this week.”
He shrugs with no witty remark. Instead, he brings me close to him. “Liz.” He pulls back while he looks in my eyes. “I’m never here to control you. Hell, I never would. You bein’ Liz Parker is what I love about you. But lovin’ you, providin’ for you, and being sure you’re always safe, those are my priorities.”
I begin to kiss him, but he stops me. “So, baby, I’m just gettin’ started.” Reaching in his pants, he pulls out a little velvet box. “I had this planned in a more romantic way but we’ve never done things as planned.” I nod, unable to take my eyes off the box he’s holding. Pulling back the top, I’m face-to-face with a simple but huge ten-carat solitaire diamond ring, set atop a platinum finish. “Buttercup, the second…”
“Just fucking shut up! Yes. I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you tomorrow. I’ll marry you at the dump. Fuck, I’ll live at the dump as long as I’m with you. When you asked me forever, I wasn’t sure if that meant marriage but fuck—it’s all I want.”
His hands are finding the zipper to my dress and my own find their way to his belt. “Wow, Buttercup, you really know how to mess up a good proposal.”
“Oh, fucking shut up and kiss me.” I pull back before his mouth can pounce on my own. “Now that I think of it, shut up and fuck me,” I dare.
“That, my sweet Buttercup, I can do.” In a split second, he has me up against a wall and that is exactly what he’s doing.
Iz has always been a force of nature, storming in my life and never leaving it, even when we were physically apart. With us making up for lost time, our physical relationship mimics the sex of our youth and when I’m near him, my body is in a constant state of arousal and wetness. My stomach is flush with the wall, his luscious lips working down my spine.
Thinking of the phrase Candy once said to me, my words surprise even me with pure lust when I whisper, "Want to slip your pigskin into my end zone?"
It’s a good thing I have a dress on. His reply is in his actions. With one fluid motion, his arms tug it with brute force over my head. The only barrier now seems to be my bra and underwear, though his strong hands rip my undies from my body.
“I’m running out of panties,” I whisper.
“That’s good,” he groans. “It means I’ll buy you more, my choice.” He hates my cotton panties and keeps on having lacy undies and bras delivered to me daily at the office. “You love my presents, right?” His timbre elicits a groan from me and soon my breasts are free and the wall is face-to-face with my nakedness.
“I love everything about you,” I start, then decide to make him harder as I reach for his erection through the barrier of his jeans. “What I’d really love right now is for your rod of pleasure to pound into my channel of love.”
The faint sound of metal against his belt is heard as his pants drop to the floor. “I can fix that right fuckin’ now, Liz Parker.”
With Iz, he never thinks of himself. It’s always about my pleasure first and foremost when he drops to the floor, opening the lips of my pussy with his tongue. I reach for his head for support as the orgasm that Iz induces makes me pool into putty in his arms. With a swipe of his tongue in the circular motion Iz is famous for, and two fingers within me, I scream his name, hoping no one is within earshot of our mid-afternoon sex-capade. Oh, fuck, it actually doesn’t matter. It makes me even hornier thinking of someone getting off from my moans at the hands of Iz.
When he slides up, pulling me in for a kiss because I love feasting on his tongue after he feasts on me, he questions, “What’s so funny?”
I laugh when his erection is fucking hard and ready for me when he brings me into him, saying, “Ah fuck, Liz, with you in my life it’ll never be boring again.” The truth is the opposite; with him, my life is worth living finally.
8 Years ago
A year with Neal is like an eternity in Hell. He calls the shots, or so he thinks. The manipulative sadistic bastard thinks we’ll share a room but the night of our wedding, I found the guest room farthest from him and set up camp there. I even decorated a room for Candace, though the evil step-witch of ours claimed I needed to concentrate on my marriage. Anyone at the wedding had to have known my tears were not of joy but of utter humiliation.
“She’s your daughter,” I said when he ordered me out for a night on the town when I’d promised Candace a sleepover. “Neal, she’s everything wonderful in this world. Please, get to know her,” I’d beg. On that night, he’d taken Candace and me out for dinner and for a split second I thought of us as a family, a mom and dad enjoying their daughter.
When we got home and Candace fell asleep, I see his ulterior motive play out. “Now, I took your brat out for dinner. It’s your turn to please me.” I’d cut off his dick before I’d let him insert it inside of me again. We lived that way for almost eight years, until Daddy died and I was able to get Mama’s inheritance. Candace and I never looked back.
32
Liz
Four months later
I still pinch myself, sitting on the back deck with Nevaeh and Iz, watching the ocean from our Malibu home. Iz had convinced Kendra to move closer, where he can see Nev more often and that, in and of itself, has leveled out the anxiety she once had, now living with us on a more regular basis.
Though we spend a vast majority of our weekdays at our downtown condo, Malibu is my happy place. Nev is curled up in her dad’s arms as she reads a book but my eyes are trained on the ocean, my mind always on Candace and the news I’ve not yet shared with her.
We’re listening to “Play it again” as Nev sings along with the lyrics. Much to her dad’s dismay, I’ve turned her into a country music lover. With a tap on my shoulder, I twist my head. Candace is standing over me. I can’t help but spring to my feet, embracing her as my daughter. She’s moving in with Lang this weekend, finally being released from the short-term facility she’s been recovering in. Again, there hasn’t been an expense that’s been spared with Candace’s recovery. I’m privy to all of Iz’s financial ventures and now I understand Lang is a millionaire several hundred times over, thanks to SOFIE.
When we bought our oceanfront home, I fought against SOFIE moving here with us. It’s bad enough she’s still in our house in downtown L.A. but at the beach house, I refuse. It’s a hurdle Lang won’t let me forget.
Candace’s speech is almost back to one hundred percent. She still stutters at times but it’s only noticeable to those around her. “Candace,” I fuss. “We were coming your way later, honey.” It doesn’t stop me from throwing my arms around her, welcoming her to the house that Iz and I will be saying our nuptials at in just a week.
Iz gives me a little kiss on the forehead, pulling at Nev after she gives Candace a big hug. She, too, has fallen in love with my daughter, though no one knows this as the truth, besides Iz. “We’ll give you some time to talk, Buttercup.”
Sitting at the little table on our deck, Candace begins, “Lang is suffocating me like a tick on a hound dog.” I’ve come to love her one-liners since the accident. “Anyway, there’s something I can’t get out of my mind. As I’m trying to sort it out, one image or
vision keeps screaming at me but it’s silly. I mean, it can’t be true; no matter how much I want it to be.”
Her face whitens when I caution. “Let’s go in, honey, this heat isn’t good for you.”
“Stop it, Liz, I’m fine. I need the fresh air and I’m so fucking over people treating me like an invalid.” She pounds her fists on the patio table.
These outbursts are common but in her tone and words, she hits me with the truth. I’m sitting across from her when I say, “Okay, little sister, shoot.” Of course she’s not my sister but I can’t call her my daughter, out loud, not yet. “What is this premonition that’s been with you?” She hasn’t been well enough to take the hurdle of me as her mother. It’s something I’d planned to talk to Lang and her about tonight, with Iz by my side.
“I’m not sure how to ask or say this or even start the conversation.” She rubs her temples like she may have a migraine hitting her.
Leaning forward, the unknown is more devastating than her brain injury, if it hasn’t improved. I brace myself for the news, something I know I can’t survive if Candace doesn’t endure this. “Just tell me, we’ll face it together.”
I’m waiting for the devastation to hit me when her mouth forms the words I’m not prepared for. “I remember you talking to me, your voice is the only thing that permeated my coma.” She struggles saying the words but perseveres through it then continues, “Fuck. I know it’s not true. Is it?”
When she cocks her head to the side, narrowing her gaze my way, I ask, “What, honey?” She’s confused which leads me to more scenarios that are running rampant in my overly vivid imagination.
Reaching for my own hand, her question is simple. “Are you my mom?”
The coma, the hours I sat at her bed, telling her I was sorry for her childhood, and how she deserved a mom stronger than me—one who would have protected her from the step-witch and my daddy. These are the words she remembers. I’m only left with a smile that paints not only my mouth, but my answer, too.