Monty

by Tina Martin

  “I’m the same way,” Magnus says. “I work, but since being married, me and Shiloh do more things together…never tried my hand at golf, though.”

  “You should,” Ramsey says. “I think it’ll be a great way for us to get acquainted with each other.”

  “I’m down,” I say. While it’s not my thing, any opportunity to bond with my cousins and brothers is an opportunity I don’t want to miss.

  “I’ll give it a shot, too, but it’ll have to wait until after the babies are here,” Magnus says.

  “Do you know what you’re having?” Ramsey asks.

  “Yes. A girl and a boy.”

  “That’s awesome. Congratulations, man,” Royal says.

  “Yeah, it’s good to get ‘em in a package deal,” Regal says. “That way they grow up together.”

  “Oh, and if you ever need sitters, me and Gem are the designated babysitters of the family,” Royal tells me.

  “I think Bernadette will fight you for that title,” Mason says. He’s been standing near the opening that separates the dining room from the kitchen. “I was telling Magnus twins run in the family.”

  “Then where’s my twin, Pop?” Regal asks.

  Mason chuckles. I’m sure he’s accustomed to his son’s antics.

  He responds, “One of you is quite enough, Regal.” He chuckles. “Hey, where did Major run off to? Did he leave?”

  “I think he just stepped outside for a minute,” I tell him.

  Mason says, “Just so you know, Montgomery, I’ve reached out to Zayda…haven’t heard anything back yet.”

  “Who’s Zayda?” Regal asks. I know who she is because Magnus has already told me about her – my biological father’s second wife. I’m surprised Mason hasn’t told his sons.

  He does so now – explains it to everyone. They’re amazed to discover they have more cousins while I process the fact I have two additional brothers and a sister I don’t know. I’m still in a state of awe sitting among these men. Strong St. Claire men. Magnus lost a wife and a child. Ramsey lost a fiancée. My uncle Mason lost a brother. Me and Major lost our parents. I don’t know the rest of their stories, but I know whatever they are, they came out victorious. It seems to be the St. Claire way.

  “I’m not giving up,” Mason says. “We’ve done come too far to give up now.”

  “Yes, we have,” I say. “Yes, we have.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Cherish

  I’ve never had many friends, but through marriage, I now have friends and family. After talking to them for a while, I discover I have the most in common with Gianna. I learned about her struggles of growing up without much parental support – just her taking care of her sister alone. I admire her drive, being a busy mom to a two-year-old little girl and still able to run a bakery.

  Siderra talks about Romulus a lot and how much her son is like his daddy.

  Felicity is glowing. She’s carrying her baby well. Tells me she’s having a boy. Says she hopes he has her personality because Regal is a wild one.

  Gemma doesn’t have children, but she loves them. Makes me wonder why she doesn’t have any of her own.

  Shiloh has two babies on the way. There’s nothing big on her but her stomach.

  She asks me, “Are you and Montgomery going to have children?”

  “We will eventually. We’re actually having a wedding ceremony next Saturday.”

  “A wedding ceremony?” Felicity says. “I thought y’all were already married.”

  “It’s a long story,” I begin. “But in a nutshell, we were legally married on paper before we had a ceremony.”

  “Oh,” Felicity says. “And that ring is phenomenal.”

  “It is,” Siderra adds. “I had to put my sunglasses on to look at it.”

  The women laugh.

  I say, “So, since we didn’t have a ceremony before, Monty surprised me with one after.”

  “Where’s it going to be?” Gemma asks.

  “It’s going to be at our home in Concord.”

  “Can we come?”

  “I’m sure you can. Let me confirm it with Monty. I’ll be right back.”

  I get up to go to the dining room when I catch sight of Major standing on the porch. I step outside. It’s dark, but the porch light provides more than enough light.

  “Hey, Major.”

  “Hey,” he says. He doesn’t make an attempt to turn around to say it. Immediately, I notice something’s wrong.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “That didn’t sound believable,” I say standing next to him now. “What’s wrong?”

  “You know, I really don’t like how well you know me.”

  The pain in his eyes prompts me to throw an arm around him. “This is difficult for you, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a lot to take in. And everyone here is married. It’s easy for Monty and Magnus to embrace all of this. Monty has you. Magnus has Shiloh. They have support.”

  “So do you, Major. I support you and you know Monty does.”

  He cracks a smile, looks at me, then stares off into the night.

  “Major, we used to talk all the time before me and Monty became an item. We still can, you know.”

  “I know. Thanks, Cherish. I appreciate that.”

  I give him a pat on the back, before going back inside in search of hubby. When I turn around, I see Monty standing at the door like he’d been there for a while, watching. His hands are in his pockets. He smiles, opens the door so I can enter.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey. I was coming to check on Major, but I saw you talking and didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “It’s not an interruption. You could’ve come out.”

  “How is he?”

  “Um…I don’t really know.” I do know, I just don’t feel it’s my place to tell him everything Major has told me. They’re brothers. I’m sure they’ll have the conversation at some point. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good.”

  “It sounds like a lot of male bonding is going on in there.”

  “There is, but we have a long way to go.”

  “At least you’re off to a good start.”

  He nods.

  “Hey, so I told the girls about our wedding. They wanted to know if they could come.”

  “Of course.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. They’re family, and I want them to know how much I love you.”

  He pulls me close, slides his tongue into my mouth. Alcohol and desire please my tastebuds. The combination makes me tingle. Gives me goosebumps. Has me thinking about cold water to get rid of this hot flash.

  “Mmm,” I say.

  “We have to leave soon,” he tells me.

  “Why?” I ask, but I already know why.

  He grabs my hand and lowers it to this zipper. “Need I say more?”

  “Monty! You can’t be up in here all aroused like this.”

  “That’s why we need to go.”

  “Well, let me tell the girls about the ceremony.”

  “Okay. I’ll let the fellas know about it.”

  We leave. Major is quiet on the drive home while me and Monty discuss the events of the night.

  Monty’s on cloud nine. I can tell he’s riding a high. I always know when his sense of excitement is elevated.

  Major is at ground zero.

  It baffles me how their reactions are so vastly different. I actually thought Major would handle this better than Monty would. I was wrong.

  Monty parks in the garage. The car can barely come to a stop and Major is already hopping out the back, heading for his residence.

  “I’ll talk to him later,” Monty says.

  “Please do. He needs it.”

  We retreat to our residence. I can’t get out of my clothes and Monty is all over me. He’s so smooth. Meticulous. I’m naked before I realize it. He’s inside of me before my mind can warn the rest of my body to prepare for
‘the monster’. My hands grip his shoulders as he pushes into me and retreats, doing this so many times my head spins like I have a sudden case of vertigo. His mouth works wonders on my lips, on my breasts on – on every part of my body.

  He strokes my mind blank. My body is in a frenzy. He goes deeper, cradles my head in his hand and rides, moving his body like he’s swimming beneath water.

  Our bodies explode into a beautiful, catastrophic ending.

  Monty groans his pleasure against my lips, tells me he loves me as he empties his love inside of me. I’m hot. Intensely so.

  My breathing is labored. Muscles contracts and contracts some more, gripping him. Not wanting to let go. Taking all he has to offer. It’s good ‘til the last drop.

  Sleep came easily after that and all was well until I wake up at 4:00 a.m. screaming. I’m cold. Sweaty and cold.

  Monty tries to put his arm around me but I pull away and look at him like he’s a stranger.

  “It’s okay, Cherish,” he says.

  His voice calms me. Makes me realize it’s him in the midst of my troubles and I latch on and hold on to him like he’s my lifeline. Like I’m in the middle of a raging river and he’s the life preserver that’ll save me from drowning.

  Here I am suffering from yet another bad dream courtesy of Webster. Monty holds me, assuring me it’ll be alright. That my nightmare is over.

  But it’ll never be over for me until I get some kind of justice.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Cherish

  Justice.

  What would that look like for me? I’m happily married to my dream man and my life is pretty much a fairytale except for what happened in my past. At what point do I let it go and be happy? I thought I had let it go, but it keeps reappearing in my dreams and I have no control over that. The damage is in my mind. It’s something my subconscious won’t let go of. Doesn’t matter how happy I am or how many times my husband makes love to me. It’s always there, waiting to interrupt my life.

  Monty has to be frustrated. If love isn’t enough to make me forget, what is?

  I sit up in bed and stretch, remembering how frightened I was last night. It rattles me still even though I’m no longer dreaming. It’s no longer night. The sun shines bright through the windows. Monty isn’t in the room.

  “Good morning.”

  I turn to the sound of his voice. He’s walking into the bedroom with a tray.

  “Good morning, Monty.”

  He brings it over to me, places it on the bed. “You had a rough night, so I thought I’d make you breakfast.”

  “Wait—you prepared all of this?” I asked, looking at the food. There’s yogurt and granola and strawberries. Eggs. Bacon. Steaming hot grits.

  “Yes, I did. I want you to eat and relax.”

  “Wow. Thank you.” I start with the yogurt, then say, “I’m sorry I keep having these dreams, Monty. I know it’s a burden on you.”

  “No. The burden on me is knowing what you had to go through. I need to come up with a solution so we can put this behind us.”

  My phone vibrates. I take it from the nightstand to discover I have three back-to-back text messages. They’re all from my mother.

  Belinda: They arrested your father. Said he broke into your house. You ought to be ashamed!

  Belinda: You know this is ALL YOUR FAULT! I don’t have $5,000 to bail him out.

  Belinda: You got him into this mess. You should be the one to get him out!

  I didn’t realize my hands were shaking until Monty put his hand on top of mine.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks. He takes the phone from my grasp. Reads the messages for himself.

  “They got him,” he tells me. “Don’t worry about what your mother has to say.”

  My hands are still shaking.

  Monty takes the tray away and pulls me into his arms. “They got him, baby, and he should be thanking his lucky stars because I was tempted to go handle him myself.”

  “I need to—to—to call her.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I do, Monty. I need her to know I’m telling the truth. It’s all I ever wanted. For her to believe me. He’s in jail. Now’s my chance.”

  He sighs.

  I don’t know why I’m obsessed with her believing me when I’ve always maintained she’s known all along. Maybe without him being around, she won’t have anyone in her ear, brainwashing her against me. Calling me a liar.

  “I don’t like the way she’s talking to you in these text messages, Cherry.”

  “She’s just lashing out. I need to talk to her,” I say, jumping up out of bed.

  “Cherish.”

  “Monty, I have to go. Please.”

  “Okay, just wait a minute,” he says, hooking an arm around me before I can reach the bathroom. He rotates my body so that I’m looking at him. “You need to settle down for a minute.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re shaking. Breathe.”

  I take a moment to pull in some breaths and slowly breathe them out. Monty holds my hands. Helps me through.

  “If you really want to go over there, I’m taking you.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  I breathe.

  In and out.

  “Get dressed and we’ll go.”

  “Okay.”

  I breathe some more.

  When he releases my hand, I take the quickest shower in history, get dressed and we hop on 85 South, heading for Charlotte. When we pull up in the driveway at Mom’s house, all kinds of feelings and emotions come over me. I grab Monty’s right hand with my left and squeeze. This is the first time I’ve been back here since I was a teenager.

  My mother storms out of the house before I can get out of the car. I release Monty’s hand and open the door.

  “She looks angry,” he says.

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell him. I get out, close the door and walk toward her.

  “Where is it?” she asks.

  “Where’s what?”

  “The money. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Ma, why on earth do you think I would bring you some money to get that man out of jail after everything he did to me?”

  She folds her arms. “I don’t believe you. You’ve got some nerve.”

  She’s struck a nerve with me. I thought I’d be able to stay calm but screw it. I say, “And so do you to let a man molest your daughter and not make an attempt to put a stop to it. Not one!”

  “He didn’t molest—”

  “He did!” I snap, yelling at the top of my lungs. I yell so loud, my head feels like it’s about to explode. “And he broke into my house. Not only did he break in, but he came back and stole a picture of me and my real dad. It’s probably in his car. Go get the keys and look.”

  She glares at me.

  “Don’t you want to put an end to this? Go get the keys! Check the car!”

  “I will, and when you see that he ain’t got no picture of yours, I want you to give me the money to bail him out.”

  She stomps away. I look back at the car to see Montgomery standing on the driver side like my personal bodyguard with his arms folded, waiting for something to jump off.

  Mama comes back with keys, unlocks doors to Webster’s white Chevrolet and releases the trunk. She looks all around, moving some tools, a crowbar and a few cans of Valvoline.

  “Ain’t nothing in here,” she says. “I don’t see no—”

  She pauses. My guess is she sees something.

  I take a step closer as she picks up a few oily towels and there’s the eight-by-ten picture frame – the picture of me and my father. The glass is shattered, but the picture remains intact. I snatch it from her.

  “Now do you believe me?” I ask her. “And don’t say I put that there. I didn’t. He did it! He—” The tears come. “You know what he did to me, Ma. Why did you protect him all these years while I suffered? Were you that desperate to—to have someone after dad died that you’d let
this man abuse me?”

  I feel Monty’s arms circle around me. I’m in full tears. My mother is too ashamed to look at me. She’s crying, too.

  “I didn’t want to believe it was true,” she says. “I wanted you to have a father again. I wanted to have a husband. I didn’t think I would ever want another man after your dad but when Webster came along, I thought he was good enough. I knew I would never love him as much as I loved your father, but he was there, and he’s always denied touching you, and I—I had a feeling he was lying.”

  “Then why didn’t you do anything about it, Ma? I came to you and told you. I begged you…all you did was send me back to my room. I had to move in with Aunt Jolene to get away from him. I honestly don’t know which was worse—the abuse or the fact that my own mother didn’t believe me. Didn’t have my back. I’m your daughter, your only child and you believed him over me.”

  She still can’t face me. Her back is to me. She’s standing at the opened trunk wiping tears.

  Monty leans down and whispers in my ear, “I know you’re angry. I can feel it in your energy but I want you to go talk to her. I know it’s difficult, baby, but the only way you’re going to move past this is to forgive her.”

  I turn around and look at him. He wipes my tears away. I smile, finding strength in his eyes. If he can repair his relationship with his mother, then so can I.

  Emboldened by the courage and encouragement of my husband, I walk over to Mama and take her hand. Before I can get a word out, she breaks down and starts crying harder. “I’m so sorry, Cherish,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

  I embrace her, hold her trembling body in my arms as we empty our pain. Whatever she’s done, she’s still my mother and Monty’s right – I need to forgive her.

  “I’m sorry,” she says again.

  I have no words to say at the moment. I only embrace her. We still need to talk, but now isn’t the time. We need to hold each other. To reconnect as mother and daughter. To put glue in the cracks that have severely broken us.

  She invites me inside the house, but I can’t go in. I won’t. My wounds are still open. The memories still haunt me. We talk outside. She apologizes over and over again, says she’s going to end her relationship with Webster. She asks me if I want to report him to the police for what he did to me. Says she’ll have my back one-hundred percent. The only thing is, I don’t know if I want to travel down that road. It’ll be his word against mine. I have no evidence of the crime he committed against me so many years ago, and I don’t want to be involved in a lengthy legal process where I’d have to see him.