by Lila Felix
We both ignored the fact that this was the first time we could speak about our mutual friend without hiding her name and who she was.
“It’s not an insult. And you don’t have to sell the place to Peter. I mean, really, can you see a strip club named Miles and Miles? That’s just creepy.”
“Shit. It’s too much. I’m out of my league here.”
He sat next to me again and I curled into his embrace. He never withheld his affection from me, even in anger, even in disappointment.
“It’s going to be okay. You’re not alone in this anymore.”
My heart cracked open at his sentiment.
“I’m not?”
He squeezed tighter. “It’s your choice, remember? You can do this by yourself, or you can let me in.”
I looked back at my dad and thought about the short time I’d known Cyrus. I thought Cyrus was the one who needed help, but it had always been me. I’d thought I was the one who could do it alone, only to realize that I didn’t want to.
“I can’t deal.”
“Nah. You’re not a can’t dealer, you’re a slow dealer. Come on, say it with me.”
“Shut up, Cyrus.”
Epilogue
Cyrus
“Dad, she’ll be fine. She’s a trooper.”
My dad didn’t believe me for one second. He was more worried about Scout than Uncle Nixon was.
“She’s the first one to leave the family.” He turned his glare on me. “For a good reason.”
“I know. But maybe she needs this. Maybe she needs to know that she can make it on her own.”
We were at the airport, the entire family. Scout was making her way through everyone with long, drawn-out goodbyes and enough tears to break through the levees again.
“Hey.” She side-stepped toward me.
“Hey.”
We were back to normal, Scout and I. We had both accepted equal blame for our co-dependency. Learning to read better was my healing and I had a sneaking suspicion that Scout flying to a school far away was her healing herself from her part in it.
“You’re gonna be great. Ask questions. Take chances. Have fun. You’re gonna be great.”
Everyone around us laughed. “You said that twice.”
“I mean it. But call if you need someone’s ass kicked. We haven’t had a group ass kicking in a while.”
I hugged her tight and watched her all the way through the security line. Beatriz stayed with me along with Uncle Nixon and Aunt Journey.
“I’ve got to get home.” Beatriz squeezed my bicep.
“You want me to pick up dinner?” Beatriz had moved home with her dad, whose mental health, over the last three months had been on a swift decline. Her cousins and one of her dad’s sisters had stepped up to help her with watching him and making sure that he ate. He would forget the usual things like eating and not wearing the same clothes day to day.
Her family was there the whole time—she just had trouble letting people help her.
Money was tight. She was hesitating in selling the business, but tonight I was going to speak to her about it. If she didn’t do something soon, her finances were going to bust. I’d taken on a part-time job to supplement for my decrease in pay from Miles and Miles.
The Hope Place didn’t get the grant she was hoping for. But it turned out that she didn’t need it. It was now running on donations of money, time, and supplies from local businesses and local people. She had even gotten an offer from a big computer company that wanted to donate all of the computers needed to run it.
Things weren’t easy, but she was making strides.
“I’d love it if you could pick up dinner.”
This was the game we were playing lately. She loved that I picked up dinner. I loved the way she took care of her dad. I loved the way she was so caring and gentle with the teens that she taught at the Hope Place.
I loved Beatriz Morales.
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
Beatriz grabbed the loops of my jeans and pulled me in for a kiss. There was no such thing as a peck with my girl.
Uncle Falcon sent me a text after I’d left Beatriz at her car at the airport parking lot. He was expecting me in his office. I was going to look over the deal.
But first I had to convince Beatriz that it was okay.
What I was trying to do was for her and for me—it was for us.
She was a little stubborn sometimes.
Okay, she was more stubborn than a donkey in the mud.
I pulled up to Uncle Falcon’s house and didn’t even bother knocking on the door. I went around and opened the back door only to be nearly trampled by Victory and Veyda. They were the rowdiest fourteen year olds I’d ever known.
“Cyrus!” They both said at once.
“Girls, your mom will be home any minute and then we have to get you to ballet. Get your stuff on.”
They listened but I could tell they didn’t want to. Aunt Reed insisted that the girls take ballet as a way to teach them grace and flexibility—a precursor to roller derby.
Everything in our family was a precursor to derby or recovery from derby.
“Uncle Falcon, you have everything ready?”
“Yes. I want you to look over the whole thing and make sure you want this before you talk to Bea.”
Even my family called her Bea.
“It needs a lot of work, but I think with some better advertisement and some upgrades, it could be profitable.”
“I think so too, otherwise, I wouldn’t be investing in you.”
I looked over the papers. Technically, I was buying Beatriz out of half of her business. After her father got out of the hospital, she convinced him to sign it over to her. We would become partners, but the money would give her a break in her finances and help take care of her dad.
This wasn’t just a business deal.
By becoming partners with me in the shop meant that she would be connected to me for the long haul.
And let’s face it, we hadn’t even spoken the words to each other yet.
It didn’t change the fact that I loved her, but I hadn’t said the words.
All that would change tonight.
“It looks good. I just have to convince her.”
“Make her think it was her idea the whole time.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just have the ideas. You’ve got to execute them.”
Beatriz knew I wouldn’t lie to her. And she’d see whatever scheme I had conjured up coming from a mile away.
Satisfied with the contract, I left Uncle Falcon’s house before the girls could get back at me. I picked up a dinner of New Orleans gumbo and all the fixin’s after going home to change.
Dating Beatriz while she lived with her father was like being in high school again. We had to sneak around and make-out on the porch. I think my constant presence had wiped Peter almost completely out of his memory, at least as far as Beatriz was concerned.
“I could smell the gumbo before I even opened the door.” She greeted me by taking some bags and opening the door wide. “Did you get cheesecake?”
“I wouldn’t even dream of coming here without the cheesecake.”
“You know me well.”
“I do.”
We ate with her dad and Aunt Delia. Her dad stayed mostly quiet. He’d become less talkative, less happy, less energetic, ever since the incident.
Beatriz was worried sick and I hoped that my plan would give her some peace and relief rather than add more to her plate.
“I am leaving, you three. I’ve got to get home before it gets too late.” Aunt Delia would be back the next day to watch over Jacob while Beatriz was at the Hope Place.
“Goodnight.” We said in unison.
After picking up the mess from the meal, Beatriz gave her dad his pills and before long he’d be asleep. I knew she hated giving him pills that made him go to sleep, but at the same time, he became panicky and
irritated at night and she wanted to save him the heartache—and herself a little as well.
“I’m going to bed.” Jacob said to no one before he retreated to his bedroom.
We wished him goodnight. I took it upon myself to make Beatriz tea and bring it to the living room. I sat beside her.
“Thank you, Cyrus.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You want to watch TV?”
“No. I actually need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“I’ve been thinking about some things.”
She put her tea cup down while simultaneously muttering ‘Oh shit.’
“Stop it. So, you’re worried about the shop, right? And you don’t really want to sell it to Peter.”
“Duh, Black.”
Gumbo made her feisty.
“I have a proposition for you. You have to promise to hear me out before you get freaked out.”
Her face told me that she would, but she didn’t like it one bit.
“I’ve found a way that I could buy half of the business from you. It would stay running and with some slight changes, we could make it more lucrative.”
Her usually olive complexion turned ghostly white in seconds flat. She scooted up to the edge of the couch but reached behind her to grab my hand.
“Cyrus, that’s a big thing. And I’m grateful. But what’s going to happen if you decide to move on. Look at my life. I’m always busy. I’ve got a dad whose behavior is so back and forth that I had to move home. Plus, I know that I’ve been extra snappy lately.”
I had to stop her nonsense.
“Look at me Beatriz.” She didn’t comply. “Beatriz, look at me, now.”
I hated telling her what to do but her lunacy about me leaving was enough to make me want to scream.
“What?”
“I’m not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever—unless you want me to.”
“Me? I want you to be here with me—always.”
“This will help us both. I can run the shop and you get half of its value in cash.”
She sat on the issue for a few minutes and then turned to me. I expected another argument, but when she showed me her face, tears were flowing down. Throughout everything I hadn’t ever really seen her cry like this.
She cried at happiness instead of pain—that’s how strong she was.
“It may be the worst time in history to tell you this, but I love you Cyrus Black. If you don’t—don’t say it if you don’t.”
With the back of my hand, I wiped away her tears and replaced them with touches of my lips. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Beatriz. I love everything about you.”
She covered my hands with her own.
“You do?”
“Yeah, honey. Miles and miles.”
Six months later
Cyrus
“In the driveway Cyrus? Like in the street?”
I chuckled but quickly corrected it, getting the stare from Beatriz. “He’s a big boy. Anyway, it was funny. You should’ve seen how many nudie magazines he was hiding in that desk. Uncle Falcon nearly had a heart attack. He’s not as young as he used to be. Speaking of which, we need to decide how much to pay him. He said whatever, but you know how he is.”
I didn’t even have to ask. Her face told me that she wasn’t buying my change of subject.
“So, you just walked out there like Mardi Gras and threw porn to the masses?”
“No. We recycled. Come on, Beatriz. Be responsible. The Earth has limited resources. You and your carbon footprint, I swear.”
She kicked me in the shin for that one—in the ever loving shin.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did you peek at them first?”
“Yes. I read all of the articles. I was just doing what you said, practicing all the time. Teacher’s orders and all that.”
She tried to kick me again but I side-stepped her.
Her ears were redder than I’d ever seen.
“Come here.” I opened my arms and even though she came willingly, she kept her own arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t look. We threw them all in the recycling bin under the water bottles so kids wouldn’t get a free show. Anyway, I’ve got a hot fiancé around here somewhere. There’s no need for me to look anywhere else.”
“I’m not mad about that. I knew you wouldn’t look.”
“What are you mad about then?”
“You didn’t video it for me. I mean, seriously, Peter, running around in the street picking up all of his papers and special golden pens that no one could touch. It was probably hilarious and you didn’t video it.”
“Who said I didn’t. I sent it to your phone and the family.”
After six months, it was like I’d never left my family. Scout was having a great time at school and Beatriz and I were together. We both owned the shop and it was getting more business than ever.
We’d talked about getting married, but I hadn’t popped the question yet.
“So, dinner tonight?”
“Yes. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear the dress.”
She pushed away from me. “How did you know?”
“I told you—there are no secrets in the Black family.”
“I’m gonna kill her.”
“If you want something like that secret, don’t go shopping with my mom, go with Aunt Storey. Ask her to tell you the story of how she met Uncle Mad. Or better yet, Aunt Hayes. Her hours at the bakery are so weird that she’s always behind on the gossip.”
“Fine. See you tonight.”
I hefted out a sigh at her absence. I couldn’t be happier that Peter was finally gone for good. The only reason Beatriz’s parents wanted her to marry him was because he’d promised to keep the shop going and he was loaded. They didn’t want her to have any financial difficulties in life like they had.
There are way worse things than financial difficulties in life.
Like being married to a Grade-A asshole.
That night I would propose to Beatriz, and while in so many ways she’d already said yes, I was nervous.
But there was really no reason to be.
My life and hers were already sealed.
The End.
Acknowledgements:
I wouldn’t have been able to write this book without the Lord. Jesus had to talk me down from the ledge several times with this one.
My husband and kids never fail to surprise me with their unfailing support and understanding. Y’all put up with me talking to my computer and zoning out. I love y’all for that.
The sprinting gang: Rebecca Ethington, Shelly Crane, Rachel Higginson, and Jamie Magee. One of the only reasons this book got done was because of the constant sprinting. Love you gals!
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. I have the best street team on the planet. They are just the best. #RR4LIFE
Other Works by Lila Felix
Emerge
Perchance
The Love and Skate Series
Love and Skate
How It Rolls
Down ‘N’ Derby
Caught In A Jam
False Start
The Second Jam (January 9, 2015)
Hoax
Until She Walked In
Seeking Havok
Sparrows For Free
Lightning In My Wake
The Bayou Bear Chronicles
Burden
Hearten
Forced Autonomy (A Dystopian Serial)
Keep up with my antics:
www.lilafelix.com
www.lilafelix.blogspot.com
[email protected]
Twitter: @authorlilafelix
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorlilafelix
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And now a peek at my paranormal romance, Burden
A Bayou Bear Chronicle
Burden
“I need a minute, file out please,” I commanded, sitting back in my tattered leather desk chair, scratching my almost full beard. Rubbing my belly, I tried to scour away the itch of frustration, to no avail.
Frustration was my leech and its teeth penetrated deep.
I really should take better care of myself.
But my appearance reflected my attitude of late, ragged, teetering on the edge of mania. I’d gone too long without a haircut, opting instead for buzzing the sides myself and letting the top grow longer than I’d ever let it before.
“Yes, Alpha,” they all replied, swiftly moving from the cedar paneled office—except River. As more than my beta, my best friend, he always thought himself exempt from most orders, and he was. I frequently needed an ear that felt like it was on my side, and not just because the rules told him he had to be.
My father had been Alpha before me, and his father Alpha before that. Every day I uncovered another piece of the effed up puzzle—the real story of the turmoil my clan was in—the legacy they’d left me. And it seemed while they were excellent Alphas in terms of protecting the lands and growing the clan—they weren’t proficient at financing or piddling things like paying property taxes. They allowed their females no say over anything, which went against everything we were taught as young males. They failed to practice what they preached. Their mates had to grin and bear it. A female probably would’ve pointed out the details that my father and his father ignored. And now, one year after my father died of cancer and my mother followed soon after, I stood in a falling apart house, up to my eyeballs in debt with every male and some female clan members working two and three jobs to help out. My clan was crumbling through my claws.
Something has to give.
River was the same age as me, though our appearances aged us considerably. He growled out a sigh and plopped down in one of the huge chairs, built specifically for us, thick and sturdy. He beat his hands on the top of his head to some rhythm. He was deciding how to tell me something.
“Hawke, we can barely handle what we’ve got. Let’s face it, we are up to our muzzles here. Clan members are paying for bills usually taken care of by clan funds. We are working ourselves to the bone. We do what we can, but it’s just not enough. And now the LaFourche Clan Alpha wants to merge? I don’t know, boss.”
I hate when he calls me boss.
“I can’t help it. I have no money left after paying over two hundred thousand dollars in property taxes, insurance, flood insurance and everything else we were up to our asses on. The effing government was about to auction off our land. I have little to nothing left.”