by Dee Garcia
“Maybe Maya faked a break-up,” my sister added.
“I’m thinking something along those lines too.”
“But then she gets engaged out of the blue,” Hazel said, realization flashing across her face. “And he does some research, leading him to find out that Petrova has money; lots of it, too.”
I nodded. “Fatherly instincts would have kicked in like never before because as you said, dear sister… What could a man in his thirties want with a teenager, especially a wealthy man like that.”
Both women, who were essential to my life in starkly different ways, sat around me in silence as they processed what we’d just likely pieced together. Obviously, it wasn’t anything we could confirm as the solid truth, but it made so much sense...
“That's actually a very fair observation,” Karley murmured after a minute or two. Pushing off the polished wood, she sauntered back around her desk and plopped into her chair, rolling toward us with a look I knew too well. The wheels in her head were spinning. “Hazel, did Bernie tell you why Maya left?”
“Not really. All he said was that she and her fiancé had come over for dinner one night, shortly after the engagement, and while they were at the table, the three of them got into a heated discussion that turned nasty within minutes. They stormed out and were gone days later, with no goodbye on Maya’s end.”
“I see,” my sister said thoughtfully, tapping her pen against a pile of papers. “I think he was hiding something.”
“Who, Bernie?”
“No, Petrova. With an age gap like that, the odds are already against you. Wouldn’t you be putting double the effort into winning over your future father-in-law rather than upsetting him further? Unless, of course, you have no interest in family whatsoever, which would explain how easy it was for him to eradicate them from their life in L.A., drag his love-drunk, naive wife across the nation, and forbid her from contacting him ever again.”
Hazel’s jaw nearly tumbled to the floor. “He forbade her from speaking to her own father?”
Karley nodded. “Those were Maya’s exact words.”
“What else did she share,” I interjected, scooting to the edge of my seat with interest.
“Not much, really.”
“And what did she say about her father’s death?”
“Nothing, to be honest. She cried, but seemed very detached about the whole thing. Everything she shared was so scatterbrained and all over the place, too; as though she'd been wanting to vent about it for years, and it was all gushing out in no specific order. The one thing she mentioned several times, and was clear as day, is that she wants to talk to Hazel.”
Silence.
Dead silence.
Hazel glanced between Karley and myself for several moments, a semi-disturbed expression etched on her face. “There’s no way in hell I’m calling her. That would be awkward times a million. Yes, I wanted to know where she was because of the Will. That’s it. If she wants to collect her belongings, I'm more than happy to meet her here and take her to Bernie’s so she can go through it all herself. What she wants to do with his place after that is up to her.”
“From the way in which she voiced wanting to speak with you, I highly doubt she cares about her inheritance or the house. Aside from detached, she sounded very panicked throughout the entire conversation.”
The last thing I heard before zoning out was panicked. Considering all we’d learned, that one little word shot up red flags and shrilling sirens in my mind. Something was wrong here. Very, very wrong. What unsettled me most was her desire to speak to Hazel. Why? They'd never met, had never even spoken a word to each other. I understood, on some level, her desire to meet the woman who'd essentially taken care of her father, but I don't know…something was off, and I didn’t like it. Little did we know just how off the next several months were going to be...
My mind was spinning. And not even just slightly spinning. I mean full-on ‘cyclone of information overload’ spinning. What the hell had I just sat through? A shit storm, obviously, but as Knox and I drove home from Karley’s office, I still couldn’t wrap my head around all that had come to light. Some of it wasn’t new, of course, but what we’d learned today was almost unbelievable, and I couldn’t push past the fact that something just didn’t add up. I mean, why in the world would Maya want to talk to me in the first place? We’d never met, meaning that first phone call would be inevitably awkward. Why would she want to put us both through that? Sure, I’d been curious about her for a long time, but not enough to reach out to her when, in reality, I wasn’t exactly her biggest fan after what she’d done to my old man. Because yes, he was mine. She might've been his biological daughter, but I was the one who was with him during his final years. Always taking care of him, always cherishing the moments we spent together. You know, doing all the things a loving daughter should do. Even if she were able to understand that, what was she supposed to say? ‘Hey, thanks for watching over my old man while I was off on the other side of the nation, with the husband he didn't approve of, pretending he didn't exist.’
Yeah, right.
My phone rattled in the cup holder, yanking me away from my disgruntled thoughts. Shaking my head, I slid my hand out of Knox’s grasp and reached for the iPhone, my eyes scanning across the screen as I read the text on display. A smile curled my lips.
Soul Sista: Yo, biznatch. How’d it go?
Reyna. Yep, that Reyna. We’d become unexpectedly close since Knox and I full-throttled into ‘it’s serious’ territory, and I’d grown to love the girl to bits. She was one of the few people, aside from Knox, who knew how to talk me down from the edge, and my testy attitude – much like Tori – didn’t scare her away. In many ways actually, she was awfully similar to Tori; vibrant, care-free, always smiling, humorous. I often wondered if this were Tori’s doing from somewhere on the other side; a way to keep her memory alive, while still allowing me to move forward with the people who’d become so important in my life.
Me: The short version...insane.
Soul Sista: WTF? What happened?
Me: Wayyy too long to type. Just know I’m completely mind fucked.
Soul Sista: You can’t do that to me! Now I have to know!
Me: Are you and Luis still planning on coming over tonight?
Soul Sista: Hell yes we are!
Me: I’ll tell you then.
Soul Sista: Ugh, FINE! You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?
Me: Takes one to know one.
I added a lovely little middle finger emoji to follow my last text and promptly clicked the lock button to shut off the screen, stuffing the phone beneath my leg. Her reply came through almost instantly and I giggled, imagining the string of profanities her message likely consisted of. I'd check it later, though, because at that very moment, we pulled up to a red light and Knox’s curious gaze was fixated on me.
“What's so funny?” he asked, baby blues twinkling when I turned my head to meet his stare.
“Reyna.”
“Ahhh, yes. Miss Fonseca, the spitfire. What’d she have to say?”
“You know, the usual. Her nosey ass is sniffing around for info from our meeting,” I said, lacing my fingers through his once more.
“Are you gonna tell her?”
“What do you think?”
“That you have no choice.”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Exactly. Besides, it’ll be nice to get someone else’s opinion on it all.”
“True, and you know Reyna has no filter, so she’ll give it to you straight. What are you hoping to hear though?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that I’m not crazy and that a piece of this puzzle is definitely missing.”
Knox hummed and flipped on his signal as he rolled into the turning lane, breezily making a left onto the final street home. “Can I tell you something?”
I stilled for the briefest moment, the deep baritone of his voice irrationally filling my veins with dread. Something about the way he presented
his query was uncomfortable and very atypical. Nevertheless, I swallowed down the lump that’d quickly formed in my throat and nodded by way of response.
Giving my hand a light squeeze, he lowered the driver’s side window and slid our resident card into the reader, which in turn opened the gates to our community. “You’re not crazy, not by a long shot. Karley and I agreed some was missing, remember? But if it’s really nagging you, you still have the opportunity to find out.”
“How?” I asked, although I already had an inkling as to where this was going.
“By calling Maya.”
I knew it…
“I’m not calling her, Knox.”
“Baby.” He sighed at the snip in my concession and threw the car into park. “I know you’re not her biggest fan, but aren’t you the least bit curious as to what the entire story is here?”
“Yes, but not enough to call her. She left Bernie high and dry, and while her silence may have been forced at the hand of her husband, she still chose him over her father. I wanted to contact her strictly to carry out Bernie’s final wishes stated in the Will, and thankfully, your sister was able to help me with that. The choice is hers as to whether or not she wants to claim what her dad left for her, but my end of the deal is done. I have nothing more to discuss with her.”
“There has to be a reason she wants to talk to you though,” he persisted and I flung off my seatbelt, pushing out the passenger door onto the pavement with a huff.
What part of no didn't he understand the first time? I had literally zero reason to reach out to this girl, other than to talk about Bernie, and I certainly didn't want to do that. Especially with her. I just wanted all of this to be over so he could finally rest in peace. Was that so much to ask for?
Knox jumped out from the driver’s seat and was locking the 4 Series as I came around the front end. I shot him a death glare that warned against pressing further and he held his hands up in surrender, falling into step beside me. His arm came around my waist, trapping me in his grip, as we walked in silence the rest of the way up to the front door of our condo.
“I'm sorry for pushing the topic.” His apology came softly as he shoved the key into the lock.
“I get where you're coming from, babe, believe me, I do, but there's really no need for me to call her.”
“I know. The whole panicked thing still has my head churning, I guess.”
“Why?” I asked curiously, dropping my Chanel purse onto the small table by the door en route to our bedroom.
He kicked off his shoes and followed behind me. “I don't know. I just keep wondering why she would sound so panicked.”
“Maybe because she found out her dad died?”
“It could be, but for some reason, I feel like there's more to it. Karley said her statement was all over the place. That's another thing sticking with me too.”
“She could just be remorseful.” I stopped halfway through my observation when I padded into our room and noted the mess of clothes strewn about. My blood boiled for a split-second. This man and his messes...ugh. “Or maybe it's an act.”
“Somehow, I don't think so.”
Swiveling around – and trying my hardest not to go mental – I laid a hand on his chest. “Let's just drop it for now, please. I'm going to have to go through this all over again when Luis and Reyna get here, and…”
Kiss.
“I hear you, baby. My lips are sealed.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, for two point five seconds. Then I let him have it. “Now, can we talk about how I'm going to beat the crap out of you if you don't stop leaving your clothes on the floor.”
“They're all in one pile though.”
Insert challenging smirk that crawled under my skin. His clothes were most definitely not in one pile.
“Um, lies. Are you blind? Look around you.”
His smirk widened. “C’mon, kitten, they're just clothes.”
“Clothes that should be in the hamper,” I all but growled, bending down to pick up his mess, again.
But before I could collect even one shirt, I found myself flat on the mattress beneath his hard body. He'd all but tackled me onto it, the entire thing a blur of languid movements I should’ve seen coming. Keyword there, should've. And I already knew what was next. He did this every time I rode his ass about the damn clothes. Tickled and exhausted to me death, leaving me so breathless I couldn't bitch anymore. And it worked, every single time. As soon as I flinched, he went in for the kill, digging his fingers into my side, the guaranteed knockout spot. I started laughing so loud I could hardly breathe, flailing in his grip, pushing at his chest. Deftly, he trapped my wrists in one hand above my head and kept on, alternating from side to side.
“What was it you were saying, babe?” He sounded amused, eyes shining with mirth.
“Stop…” -gasp, laugh, wiggle- “Please!”
“Stop what? This?”
He dug harder still, growing cockier by the second. I struggled, and struggled some more, until he laid himself flat against me and used both hands to attack.
Too cocky, too quick, baby.
With my hands free, I locked my legs around his waist and sunk my fingers into his sides, stunning him beyond belief. He stilled and a deep, guttural laugh erupted from his throat, granting me the opportunity to regain control. In one swift move, I had him on his back, holding his arms hostage above his head, my hair, a messy mane of curls after his assault coming down around us like a veil.
“Pinned ya,” I purred, my inner-Nala coming out to play.
“You've watched that movie too many times.”
The smile that lit up his fine face painted a matching one on my own. “Yeah well, it's my favorite. The Princesses never appealed to me.”
“That's cause you're not a Princess. You're a Queen.”
“Damn right I am,” I smirked victoriously, bring a hand loosely around his throat. “And as your Queen, I'm demanding you refrain from leaving your soiled garments on the floor of our royal chamber.”
“Or what,” he challenged, his Adam’s apple bobbing against my palm.
“Or I'll be forced to behead you.”
“So how can I redeem myself, oh powerful Queen?” he asked, effortlessly rolling me onto my back.
Like reflex, my legs came around him, my arms too. Our lips brushed as he stared into my eyes, diffusing my initial irritation further. No matter how often we bickered, I could never stay mad at him for long. His playfulness assured it.
“Just pick up your shit,” I blurted out when his hand slid its way from my thigh to my waist.
“So crass, my Queen. But how are you so certain said shit is only mine,” he countered.
“Look at it. Every single piece of clothing is yours.”
“No, it's not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It's not,” he insisted, sinking to the floor between my legs.
“It is. What are you-” I began, only to stop mid-sentence when he all but ripped my jeans off my legs and tossed them onto the floor behind him.
“Now it's not.” He smirked triumphantly.
“That's not even fair! You totally cheated!”
“Life’s tough, kitten” – there went my panties – “wear a helmet.”
And then his mouth was on me, stamping wet kisses along my thighs; first the left, then the right. His tongue, piercing and all, swiped along my sex, instantly bowing my back off the bed.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathed out, clutching his hair in my fists, but when he stopped abruptly, a needy whimper flew out from deep within me. “Why'd you stop?”
“Are you done bitching now?” He grinned, a devilish stare shooting a shiver down my spine as he licked me again.
“For now, yes. Just keep… Nooo!” I whined when his tongue disappeared once more. “Okay, okay, yes I'm done!”
Knox hummed appreciatively. He spread my legs wider, granting him better access to my aching core. Because yes, I was already aching for him. He had
the power to make me go from zero to one-hundred, real fucking quick. Then it was me who hummed in satisfaction as he lapped at me relentlessly, the steel ball of his piercing hitting my clit over and over again. Shutting my eyes in bliss, I clawed at the sheets, basking in the haze of pleasure his skilled mouth evoked.
Ding dong!
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growled, picking my head up off the bed.
Knox chuckled and rose to his feet, wiping the corners of his mouth between two fingers. “Ten bucks says Reyna forced Luis over here the second you stopped responding to her texts.”
In my suddenly furious state, I all but stomped to where my jeans laid on the floor and stuffed my legs inside. “I'm gonna kill her.”
“Good luck with that,” he called out behind me as I stormed down the hallway to the front door.
When I peeked through the peephole, sure enough, it was Luis and Reyna. My blood may or may not have boiled just a smidge more. Yanking the door open, I glared a hole straight through her head.
“Hey… Oh… Oh my God," Reyna squeaked, her eyes bulging from their sockets.
My brow quirked curiously. “What?”
“You're all flushed and your hair's a mess. Oh God, I'm gonna puke. You guys were fucking, weren't you?”
“Actually," Knox said before I could so much as utter a word, pulling a shirt on over his head. "I was tongue deep in my afternoon snack, thank you very much.”
Reyna gagged as she brushed past me. “Sick, Carr, fucking sick.”
“You asked for it when you so unnecessarily interrupted us,” he added, wrapping her in a side hug.
“Yeah well, if Perry over here would text me back then I wouldn't have-”
“I told you.” He beamed at me, cutting Rey off in her protest.
Luis shuffled inside and slid an arm around my shoulders, quickly pecking my cheek. “She bitched the whole way here.”
“Seems she’s not the only one bitching today,” Knox chimed in, amusement coating his words, and all I could do was roll my eyes as I shut the door to hide my own dose of amusement.