Page 84 of His to Love
My mother was long gone, carried out of the house on a stretcher with a sheet fully covering her. I lost it again, sinking to my knees and was once again picked up by Malik and carried to where I was now.
I had no idea if he was still in the house, and I didn’t care.
“More coffee?” Clarissa asked, holding a stainless steel carafe in front of me. I held out my cup and allowed her to fill it.
I didn’t remember even drinking the first cup she gave me.
“You must eat,” she whispered, and my eyes flickered to hers. When I met her gaze, I could only see unadulterated pain so I looked away.
I’d been staring at an empty fireplace for who knows how long with absolutely no thought in my head. The entire mood in the house was just as somber, just as mournful.
Clarissa sighed and walked away.
She returned quickly with my clutch in my bag and held it out for me. “Malik brought this in for you before he left,” she said. “Your phone has been buzzing for the past twenty minutes.”
I glanced at my clutch and nodded. When I made no move to take it from her hand, she set it in my lap.
This time as she walked away, I turned to her. “Clarissa?” I asked, and she looked back at me over her shoulder. “I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
“We never do, bella.” Her lips tilted down at the edges and I saw her chin quiver with emotion. “I made your bed in your old room for you if you want to stay the night.”
I didn’t. I wanted to flee from this house and forget all the misery it had brought me. I also didn’t want to be alone.
And now, the one person who could have helped was also part of my pain.
My phone buzzed again, vibrating against my thigh. I took it out and saw Blackbird on the screen. I stared at his picture, one I’d taken of us when we had gone for a walk around his neighborhood. His cheek was pressed to my temple, and we were both grinning as I snapped the selfie. My phone stopped ringing and the photo disappeared. Then my thumb slid to the button on the top. I powered down my phone and threw it back into my purse.
—
“Are we done yet? I’m exhausted and I’ve told you everything I know.”
My father and Malik had been questioning me for the last two hours. They wanted to know what Tyson and I discussed during every conversation, what we did when we saw each other. My father’s cheeks turned dark purple when I looked at him with wide eyes and asked him if he really wanted details of his daughter’s sex life.
As if his blatant disappointment and fury weren’t apparent enough before.
Malik quickly stepped in, wanting to know where we went, who else we spoke to. I had no information to give them, insisting that we didn’t talk about them—other than the night when I agreed to attend the benefit with Malik. I repeated what I had told Tyson about Malik taking over my father’s business, but I couldn’t recall anything else I’d said.
Although that admission alone seemed to be damaging enough. Both of them sucked in a harsh breath and then cursed up a storm.
I answered everything they asked me, not feeling any of it. Then I tried not to think of what would happen if they got their hands on Tyson.
I woke up this morning electing not to give a thought to Tyson Blackwell beyond anything that was absolutely necessary, like this conversation.
My father slowly perused me, and I could practically feel his distaste for me from across the room. He sneered and sat down at the chair at his desk. “Go. And try to not bring any further humiliation to your family in the next hour.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I mumbled. My hands balled into fists and I jumped at a loud noise.
My head snapped up and I saw my father’s fist on top of his desk. “Ten years ago I sent you away due to your sick fascination with a family who wanted nothing else than to bring this family—your family—down. How you can be so naïve and stupid to think that Blackwell wouldn’t join his father’s crusade is beyond me.”
“He told me he was a lawyer!” I all but shouted the words, though they were useless. We’d been over this ad nauseam.
“And this is why we look into people.”
“Fine.” I waved my hand in his direction and turned around. I caught Malik’s gaze before he looked away from me. Even to him, I was now worthless. “I get it. I’ll meet you in the entryway later so we can go to the funeral home.”
We were supposed to be leaving in an hour and I was desperate to escape his office. The mention of my mother and our agenda for the day ahead fell like a lead weight in the room.
“Very well,” my father said as I walked away. But it was the first time I heard emotion in his voice that wasn’t disgust or anger.
