by Amarie Avant
“Liam,” she stretched his name with a pout, holding out her hand. He placed the cupcake in the palm of it.
“Thanks, mud pie boy.”
“We’re going there again?” He started tickling her. She placed the cupcake on the quilt and fell back with him on top of her.
“Puh…leeeeez…”
“What’s my name?” He let his hands tickle against her rib cage.
“Mud…pi…puh leeeez stop, okay, okay.” When he let up on the tickles, Raven asked, “So what’s in the middle?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Picking up the cupcake, she turned it over and took a big bite from the bottom. Then her eyebrows raised, her head cocking to the side. Liam stared, waiting for the stamp of approval, but he wasn’t going to get one.
“Was that a gooey gummy bear?”
“Yes.” He frowned slightly.
“I’m sorry, but why did you do that?”
“It was a green gummy just like you always liked ’em.”
Her face cleared with understanding. As a child, she’d always eat the green gummies first. She’d trade the other colors with him for his green ones. Since it wasn’t chocolate, he readily gave in. “Okay, Liam, but that doesn’t make it right,” Raven cackled.
He sighed. “The chef told me it wouldn’t taste right when I told him to add them.”
“Yeah.” She patted him on the shoulder. “You’re not really a baking kind of guy–or cooking, but it was the thought that counted.” She set the cupcake back down and leaned over to kiss him.
They lay back on the blanket. Liam’s large hands kneaded Raven’s back. “Mhmmmm, this is the life, Liam. Let’s do this every day.”
“As you wish,” he said, voice becoming heavy. His hands roamed her waist, scorching every bit of her skin as they stopped at her bikini bottoms. Her body began to ache for him as he pulled at the strings.
Raven’s eyelids fluttered against her cheeks as he began to rub her lower back. Then his large hand and fingers expanded.
“This ass is forever tempting me,” Liam said, voice lazy, cupping one of her buttocks.
“Oh, I’m to blame?” Raven glanced back at him, firelight twinkling in her turquoise gaze. Liam pressed a thumb into her slit as he continued to rub her ass. The small of her back arched to allow him to deepen his penetration into a stream of wetness. And then her mind washed away the woes of their pending trip. A trip to speak with her mother, and forever change their lives…
Raven awoke from an unfamiliar noise. Coming to a sitting position on the floor, she looked around. The light in her bedroom had faded to a soft orange, and the sun began to go down. Her mind cleared as irritation grew. The noise, the bumping noise, was coming from the attic. The place she hadn’t been in years. Breathing out pent-up air, she got up from the floor.
Raven’s hands trailed the walls as she roamed into the hallway and pulled down the trapdoor. She scrambled up the narrow staircase and into the attic. It was just as she had left it. Boxes were neatly piled. Charlene’s were still in the same spot along with the lacquered cedar keepsake with a mermaid on the top. She’d forgotten to come back and open it. After Liam disappeared before high school, she hadn’t thought about the cedar box, not once. She’d only wanted her best friend back.
She grabbed it and descended the stairs, heading for her grandfather’s toolbox in the garage. Didn’t have to cherish this box like a silly little fourteen-year-old who imagined her mother would one day come and save her. Now she knew her mother.
Grabbing a flathead screwdriver, she hurried back up to her room, unsure if Annette would be coming home from the hospital soon. Plopping on her bed, she wedged it slowly, working the tool in between the brass clasp until it popped open.
With itchy palms, Raven opened it. Inside was a diary. The diary was stuffed with pictures of Charlene kissing Jonathan. Her nostrils flared. Guess I should’ve opened it years ago… With the tips of her thumbs, she outlined the pictures of them at fairs, at the park, at the meadow where her half-brother Liam had neglected to meet her. They were smiling and posing, in love. She read through the diary of the last days of Charlene’s life in Bellwood.
Dear Diary,
Today I found out Jonathan has been cheating on me with that girl! Elise came by to show me a huge engagement ring! I hope I’m not pregnant! I don’t want Jonathan, and I do NOT want his child!
I told Alvin I’m leaving. He thinks I should stay to confront Jonathan. He thinks that if I am pregnant, I should keep it. But I told him if I were pregnant, someone in Los Angeles will help me get rid of it.
Raven’s heart sank. That damn Damien Wright was wrong! Charlene didn’t want her. Flipping back a few pages to a letter dating a week before, Charlene talked about possibly being pregnant, hoping it was a girl. Had her life planned out, would move with Jonathan. She’d be an actress. He’d play football at USC. They’d take care of their baby!
Tormenting herself, she returned to the end of the diary and reread how her mother had changed. The “hopefully it’s a girl” turned into an it she wanted to kill.
Charlene no longer wanted a child… Raven thought about thanking Roy Timmons. If Charlene hadn’t been in a coma for the better part of her pregnancy, Raven wouldn’t exist. And she wished she hadn’t survived.
From all of her flipping back and forth, Raven noticed red streaks on the diary pages. Looking down at her palms, she found they were cut, raw. She had held her fist closed so tightly, her long nails had dug into flesh. As she glared at shreds of skin, she still didn’t feel pain. A fresh sense of hatred washed over her. Her mom never loved her, not even from the start.
She was nobody, had nobody. No Liam. Raven pulled, tugged, and ripped the pages into pieces. Tearing every last piece until it was an empty vessel.
God help me, please! Chest heaving, she hurled the empty diary across the room. It hit the bedroom door with a clunk. All around her were torn paper and photos. Jonathan’s love letters were bits and pieces. The letters of love had transformed into a distorted, ugly, dirty, black bird: Raven.
Storming to the dresser, Raven used her forearms to swipe across the wood top until everything came crashing down; perfume, hair products, mail, and the mermaid trinket that Damien Wright had given her.
“Liam!” Raven sunk to the floor. In the past, if she closed her eyes, she saw hazel eyes, but today they were gone. She tried again. Nothing, only darkness.
Cradling her flat stomach, Raven felt like ripping out the seed that was growing, an innocent baby.
She stopped trying to claw at her stomach.
It was not the baby’s fault, and it was not Raven’s fault.
No, it wasn’t Charlene’s fault or Jonathan’s fault or Liam’s. Everything was Elise’s fault.
CHAPTER 29
Six months had passed. It had to be too late. That didn’t stop Liam from telling the French girl he was on a date with that he had to go. The date was gorgeous, doe brown eyes, short auburn hair that brought the focal point back to those damn eyes, and pouty lips. Liam and his date were enrolled at the same university and were on their way to an early dinner after class. He’d felt like walking. She wanted to take a ride in his new Porsche Spider that Grand-père bought for his graduation. He insisted on strolling to a five-star restaurant, and because everyone knew him as the legacy, she consented.
Before rushing off, Liam had compared his date to Raven a thousand times over, and they’d only walked across the street from school. Raven would’ve loved walking around the pond, pointing out the scenery. Then again, as stubborn as Raven was, there’d have been no consent from her.
The Eiffel Tower was the scenic backdrop, symbolizing the only place he’d anticipated taking Raven. He reminisced about how Raven talked of Paris before taking him into her mouth.
The girl jabbered in French, trying to keep his attention when she didn’t have it in the first place. He was just lonely. Any other day, he was able to psych himself into being interes
ted, but they were cutting through a park when he saw…a teenage girl with a nose ring, dirty blonde hair, and a very round belly. How many months? Liam stopped to watch her pass. Raven would’ve been about seven…
The pregnant woman strolled alongside with a man who had to be the father. The guy had one tattooed arm around her shoulder. Liam yearned to offer the man a million dollars to know what he whispered in her ear to have her smile just so. The pregnant woman’s contagious laughter made Liam stop dead in his tracks. He almost heard the carefree sound of Raven’s laughter. This was as close as he’d been to love in a while.
“Liam.” His date pulled on his leather jacket. Her eyes were larger, pupils wide with interest. Had she done something wrong? Why wasn’t he entertained?
For a moment, Liam had no answer. He continued to stare at the couple, regardless of stolen liberties and being perceived as a stalker. Dead in his tracks, Liam stood there. He blatantly watched them. Other people on an evening walk or on their way to dinner strolled around them as he watched the young family-to-be move toward a waning orange ball of fire. The evening sun drowned them from view.
“Je suis désolé. Je dois aller–I’m sorry. I have to go.” Liam looked into his date’s gray eyes then hurried back to the Delacroix Hotel. His shoes thumped against the stone pavement as he went. A white-haired waiter pulled the chair out for a woman at an umbrella-shaded table, right outside of a bistro. He zipped out of the way in the nick of time, shooting a quick apology in French. Why had he given up on them so easily? Every second he exerted himself, was a moment he breathed again. He took in a lungful of air for the first time in a long time, pace slowing as a red Alfa Romeo zoomed into the valet of the first ever D-Hotel.
He mumbled a greeting to the valet and the attendants at the Paris chain of his family’s string of hotels. Everybody wanted to say hello to the heir of the Delacroix fortune. A quick smile appeared, fading in seconds after tourists took his picture. He was a European celebrity. On the top floor, he opened the door to the penthouse suite, wishing the renovations on his loft would be complete soon.
Veering straight to the glass bar, Liam poured a cognac and downed it. I shouldn’t have gotten on the plane. A few drinks later, that feeling where you’re not supposed to care anymore started to creep in. It wasn’t enough. He poured one after another until he was drunk enough, drunk enough to make that call. Pulling out his new cell phone, Liam leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the street below him as fancy cars pulled into valet.
Stabbing the buttons with shaky fingers, Liam hesitated. He realized the momentary reprieve from suffocation had ended. A big gulp of air shot through his lungs. Liam pressed the CALL button and placed the phone to his ear. Blood pumped in his ears as he waited for Raven to answer.
It was early morning in North Carolina, but he needed his love to answer. His heart stopped for a fraction of a second when the call went to voicemail.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Raven?” He rubbed the burn in his eyes, and spoke to the voicemail. Different emotions took over. Liam turned around and slipped down on the floor, leaning against the window. “ReRe, I need to talk to you about the letter. Call me.”
It had to be too late. She must have already done it, but he still needed her. She was family. The only family he had besides Grand-père, as far as he was concerned. He left his phone number, told her to call anytime.
For a moment he thought about declaring that he was on the way to the airport, that he’d be on the very next plane home. Yet, courage failed him. He needed the reassurance of her voice first. Raven had to respond to him.
Who the hell was he kidding? She has to hate me… Liam pressed the END button. He’d respect her wishes. For now, Liam waited for her to call.
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