Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance (18 page)

I meet her smile and take a deep breath. I want nothing more than to confess everything to her, announce every sin, but I hold back the urge. Doing so would only create a deeper divide between us. “I’m just feeling a little stressed out is all,” I say instead.

She motions for me to follow her. “Well, come on in. Put your feet up.” She makes a wave motion with her arms. “Relax it out.”

I laugh. “Mother, when did you become so
zen
?” I ask.

“Since I stopped drinking and took up yoga,” she explains.

“I can believe neither of those things,” I say as I take a seat at the kitchen table.

She places an empty mug down in front of me and glares at me out of the corners of her eyes. “I’m going to let that one slide because of how miserable you look right now,” she says, “and I don’t want to kick you while you’re down.”

“I’m not miserable,” I say as she fills my cup with coffee.

She sits down across from me with her own fresh mug. “What’d he do?” she asks.

“Who?”

“Percy.”

I shake my head. “Percy didn’t do anything,” I say.

She takes a sip of her coffee and raises an eyebrow at me. “Then why do I sense man trouble?”

“When did you become the authority on
man trouble
?” I ask her, smiling.

“I have
always
been the authority on man trouble, Alice,” she says. “If you don’t believe me, I can show you my Cesarean scar.”

“No, thanks,” I say.

“Granted, it’s an old scar, so I might be a little rusty,” she says, “but recent events have trained me to further hone my skills.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

“The city man has packed his bags,” she says over the rim of her coffee mug before taking a long drink.

“Charles?” I ask. She nods. “What happened?”

“I have no idea,” she says. “He called me up earlier this week, told me it wasn’t working out, and I accepted it.”

I slink back. A confusing elixir of emotion flows through me. I feel simultaneous relief and sympathy for her. “Wow, Mom, I’m so sorry,” I say.

“It was fun while it lasted,” she says.

“When was this?”

She thinks for a moment. “Tuesday?”

My skin crawls. The same day he surprised me at the diner. “Did he say why?”

“No,” she answers. “Just that he was busy —
too
busy. I’m assuming that’s rich guy code for
hot, young blonde
.” I flex my jaw as anger boils within me. She chuckles and reaches out to place her hand on mine. “Take a breath, sweetie,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

“It
is
a big deal, Mom,” I argue. “You were so happy.”

“Yes,” she says, “and I’m still happy
now
. Do I seem like the type of woman that requires a man to feel good about herself?”

I shake my head. “No… but he made you so confident and—”

She holds up a hand to stop me. “I’ve made a lot of changes to myself recently — as you have noticed — but none of that had anything to do with Charles. I did all of that on my own.”

“You did?”

“Of course, I did,” she says. “I don’t need a man to tell me I’m worthy, it’s like I always told you.”

“Yeah,” I smile. “I remember.”

“The point is,” she continues, “I chose to make changes to myself —
for
myself. And… for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t always the queen of warmth and affection when you were growing up. I know that. I wanted you to be strong and in order to do that, I had to show you strength.” She pauses and tilts her head. “I may have gone a little overboard.”

I chuckle. “No, you didn’t, Mom,” I say.

“There’s no better motivator than the well-being of your child. Someday you’ll understand that, too.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m proud of you, Alice,” she tells me. “And Percy.”

I smile at his name. “Yeah?”

She nods. “I will admit, I was little skeptical at first, but he’s grown with you. Perhaps a bit of my fierce strength rubbed off on him as well.”

“The credit is all yours, Mom.”

“I know you’re joking,” she points at me, “but I’ll take it anyway.”

I laugh and finish my coffee.

A few hours later, I return to the city. I’m lost in my head the entire drive, the wheel spinning round and round as I try to break my anger into pieces.

Charles. I’ve never been so furious with him. I know I shouldn’t be. I should just forget about him and move on, but he’s planted himself back into my life.

Why?

I spent the last week glancing over my shoulder, convinced that he’d show up again out of the blue. A constant fear. A constant temptation.

I think of Percy and my heart breaks.

I drive straight to the Kent Insurance Corporation building. My pulse races the entire time. My stomach lurches with each passing floor as I ascend to the top in the elevator.

Charles.

I dig my nails into my palm and use the pain to fuel my anger.

He’ll listen to me. He always did before. I’ll tell him, once and for all, that he needs to stay out of my life and leave me alone. I can’t do it over the phone. I want to look him in the eye as I say the words. I want him to look me in the eye as he agrees to it.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” his receptionist tells me. She’s new — at least, to me — but looks the part with brown hair and brown eyes. “Mr. Kent has gone home for the day.”

I sigh and grit my teeth. “Thank you.” I spin around.

“Would you like to leave him a message?” she asks me as I enter the elevator.

“No,” I say. “I’ll tell him myself.”

The doors close on me and I stare at my reflection in the mirrored walls. My cheeks sit pink on my face and my chest heaves up and down. I fight the exhilaration and ignore the dull rumblings deep inside of me, the ones that awaken at the mere mention of his name.

I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet. My fingers fish through the usual clutter, various receipts and parking slips that need to be thrown out until I find the back compartment. The white card comes into view, dog-eared and wrinkled after years of neglect. I pinch the corner and pull it out.

I’m not sure why I kept it. I swore I’d never need it again, but for some reason, I clung to it like a security blanket.

I slide my phone out of my pocket and dial the number.

“This is Harvey.”

His kind voice brings a smile to my lips. “Harvey. Hi, this is—”

“Ms. Hughes.”

My breath catches in my throat. “Yes…”

“It’s a pleasure to hear from you again,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Mr. Kent mentioned that I should expect your call.”

“He did?” My lips tremble.

“Will you be needing my services, Ms. Hughes?”

I stare straight ahead. “Yes,” I say.

***

We arrive at Charles’ estate just after dark. The car stalls just outside the gates and Harvey reaches out to input the code to let us in.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Percy. My finger twitches as I hit ignore.

Five minutes, Percy,
I think.
Just give me five minutes and everything will be back to normal.

We continue on down the drive and the estate comes into view. My heart quivers as I remember every moment I spent inside of it during my youth. I shake the feelings away and concentrate on the task at hand.

Harvey hops out of the driver’s seat and I wait patiently for him to open my door for me.

“Thank you,” I tell him as he assists me out.

“Right this way, Ms. Hughes,” he tells me as he leads me up the steps.

My knees shake as I follow him. For a moment, I want to turn around and run away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The aura of this place is far too strong.

I close my eyes as I step inside. I fill my lungs with it. It smells exactly the same as it did five years ago. My mouth waters with every memory.

Harvey closes the door behind us. “I will notify Mr. Kent of your arrival,” he says as he pulls his gloves off his hands.

“Thank you, Harvey.”

He walks across the foyer and enters the study on the far side.

I begin to slide my coat off, but I halt my movements and return it to my shoulders. I don’t want to get too comfortable here, but it’s so easy to fall back on old habits. My fingers fall to my sides and push my skirt down with a nervous twitch.

I glance up the tall staircase. My eyes trace up the railing, winding upwards with it until my eyes reach the landing. I bite my lip and tell myself to stay put.

Don’t do that, Alice.

I lay my purse down on the entry table by the door and walk towards the stairs. I give in to the impulse as it leads me into the unknown. My hand trembles against the railing as it slides through my fingers on the way to the top.

It’s a reflex, a bit of muscle memory still lingering inside of me, that pulls me towards the master bedroom down the hall.

I push the door open.

Don’t do that, Alice.

Fear strikes me first, followed closely by gut-wrenching sadness. I step into the room and stand in the center of it all.

The portraits. Percy’s portraits. Portraits of my naked body. They line his walls.

I feel his presence at the door, but I stand still with no strength to face him. “How did you know it was me, Charles?” I ask him.

“Do you really have to ask?” He passes by me and stares up at the first portrait. “I knew it was you the moment I saw them. Your body…” His voice sounds like warm milk. “The curve of your hip. Your skin. I remember every piece of you, Alice.”

I look away from them, sick with disgust. “So you bought them all,” I whisper, “so no one else could own me.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“You never let me go at all…” I swallow hard to keep the lump in my throat at bay. “Did you?”

Charles turns to me now and he shows me his true face. His forehead casts a shadow over his eyes, an eager menace rousing from a deep slumber. “No,” he says.

“I knew it.” I feel no satisfaction in the phrase. Vindication, yes. But no satisfaction.

He holds his head high and shows me no sign of remorse. “For five years, I’ve watched you stumble through a life without me. Every twist and turn. Every failed lover. I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Why?” I ask him. “Why would you go through the trouble?”

“Because eventually…” he clicks his tongue, “I’d find a weakness. Something I could use to my advantage.”

“And you found…
what
? My mother? My boyfriend’s career? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You know exactly who I am, Alice,” he says.

“That doesn’t make this okay.” I shake my head. “You could have come to me. You didn’t have to involve him or my
mother
.”

“Would you have listened? No, Alice. I wanted to remind you what you felt for me once, and I could only do that by making you believe you could never have it again,” he says. “You felt it. I saw it all over your face… and I see it again right now.”

“Stop it, Charles. This isn’t right.”

“You missed me, just as I’ve missed you. Even more than you’ll miss that
artist
.”

“Leave him out of this,” I warn.

“You’ve wasted enough time being his muse,” Charles observes. “Cut him loose, Alice.”

“He’s talented.”

“He’s
mediocre
— at
best
.” His eyes fall on the portraits once more. “No, darling, the only thing that makes these pictures worth gawking at is
you
.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“And you…” He shakes his head slowly. “A poor waitress.”

“It’s respectable work,” I argue.

“It’s wasted potential.” He sighs and stares me down. “No, quit the job. Ditch the boy. He’s worthless, Alice. The only reason he carries more than lint in his pockets right now is because of me.”

I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. “You’re a monster,” I hiss through my teeth.

“I’m a realist.” He takes a step towards me, but I counter him with a step back. “Your boy will continue to be a success because of my silent influence, I can promise you that…” His eyes flick up and down. “But you’ll have to promise me something first.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not giving you anything else.”

“Then you’ll both starve,” he growls with dark eyes. “Stay with him, Alice, and he’ll lose everything. You can keep the money I’ve
gifted
him, but it will run dry
very
quickly… and I’ll make sure he never sells another piece for as long as you’re both together.”

I tremble. Even after all these years, his tongue cuts deep. He has me trapped, but I fight hard inside not to admit it. “What do you want, Charles?”

“Leave him,” he says. “Return to me. His work will continue to sell… and I’ll support you.”

“I don’t need your support.”

He smiles. “I know you don’t, Alice. You can keep fighting tooth and nail to hold yourself afloat in the big, bad city, and I have no doubts that you’ll survive — if that’s your definition of
living
. You’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but you’ll never make it if you have to hold his head above water, too.”

“That’s not true.” My voice shakes.

“Consider, for a moment, what a life with me can provide for you. You’ve tasted it before. Imagine complete and utter freedom to be whomever you want to be.”

“I’d rather starve.”

Charles leans in closer. “You’re lying,” he whispers. He reaches out to me but I turn away before he can reach me.

“I never should have let you touch me.” I hold back my tears, fighting with all of my strength. “You’re trying to manipulate me again, but it won’t work this time.”

“There’s that
word
again,” he says, ticking his tongue. “I don’t remember you dodging responsibility for your actions so much before. You’re better than this, Alice. No, you
chose
my bed, just as you
chose
to return to it each time after.”

“You seduced me.”