Just Can't Let Go (4 page)

Worse part . . . Charlotte looked happy with ole dude.

“Sis, don't trip. I got you. But right now, I gotta go check that nig with my ex.”

CHAPTER 4

Blake

W
here was he?

The break of dawn crept through my vertical blinds. Lying on my side in my bed, I held my churning stomach wondering where was Spencer? Was he okay? Had he gotten into an accident? Held up by an Atlanta police officer? Was he caught drinking and driving?

I prayed not.

Georgia troopers didn't hesitate to issue DUI tickets. The average fine was ten grand. I'd bail him out, but if his privileges were revoked . . . I tried convincing myself that he wasn't between my daughter's legs. He wouldn't do that to me again knowing Alexis was his sister.

“What was that?”

I sat in the middle of my bed. Stretched my ear toward the entrance of my bedroom. The noise came from one level below. Anxiously, I listened, hoping I'd hear a door close. The next minute was filled with silence.

Must've been the wind whisking tree branches. Leaning over the edge of the mattress, I smiled. My baby was in his pen sound asleep.

Fluffing my pillow, I lay back on my side. Curled my knees to my breasts, then pulled the cover up to my neck. I was cold from the inside out.

If he wasn't doing her, what was he doing with her? Didn't trust either of them when they were together. What was so damn important that he got out of our bed for her? Spasms in my abdomen caused me to roll onto my other side. I balled back into a fetal position.

The time those two got together at his place, the sex (they professed they never had) was probably equally amazing as when Spencer had given me my first squirting orgasm during the consummation of our relationship.

“Shit.” Their fucking was my fault. Should've put Conner Rogers on her damn birth certificate.

Touching my clit, I hadn't showered him with my fluids since the day I'd suspected they'd done it. The fact that I knew in my gut they'd both lied about their not having sex with each other probably was the reason my body couldn't totally submit to Spencer anymore.

I checked my cell. No missed anything. Placed it on his side of the bed.

That wench looked me in my eyes. My daughter had said, “Mom, nothing happened. He couldn't get an erection.” That child could lie standing on one foot in a six-inch heel on a stack of bibles and never wobble or waver.

Spencer had said, “I tried, but I couldn't do it.”

I'd love to believe he had no reason to fabricate a story, but I was seasoned enough to know that when a man cared, he lied. It was only when he had no regard for my feelings that he'd blatantly tell me the truth about sexing another woman and didn't give a damn how I felt afterward.

I pressed the button on my cell, glanced down. I checked his Insta, Twitter, and Facebook pages. No posts. None on Alexis's either.

“Liars.” They both were. That I was sure of.

The temperature inside of me started rising. I flipped the covers away from my naked body, jumped out of bed. Perspiration oozed from my pores as I raced to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet. Should've brought my phone with me.

The onset of sweat slithering from every pore gave me a reason to focus on something other than my man not being home. Turning on the water, I'd become accustomed to the midnight and early-morning showers. The cool water made me cold again. I'd deal with the flashes. The alternative, taking hormone replacement therapy drugs, wasn't worth the risk of getting cancer. It was easier to get up than to drench and then change my bedding every day.

I straightened the comforter, sat on the bed.

By chance, if any of what they'd said about Spencer not being able to get an erection was remotely true, instinctively his dick had all the sense not to get hard for Alexis. I believed he was flaccid because they were family. Guess I wanted to . . . it was best not knowing. What difference would it make now?

Standing beside my bed, I looked into the pen. My puppy was buried underneath his cashmere blanket. He wiggled his head out, stared at me. “You are so cute, baby.” That little fella brought me pure joy. Whenever I saw, held, or walked him, instantly I felt calm.

Checked my phone, no messages. It was 5:29.

Too early to get ready for work, not enough time to rest well, I lay on my back in my bed. Stared at the ceiling. He said Alexis needed to talk. Didn't take four hours for a conversation.

Spencer hadn't texted since he'd left home. Didn't have the decency to answer any of my calls. I knew I shouldn't have told Alexis who her father was. She met her dad one time, three months ago. Then told me she didn't care to see him ever again. The whole search was pointless. I knew that would be the case, yet I still gave in to her. Everything was always about her!

Shouldn't have had my attorney, Kendall Minter, locate Conner Rogers. I was calling Kendall later today advising he cancel the search for Mercedes's, Devereaux's, and Sandara's dads. I knew who their dads were. Just didn't know where they were. My kids were grown. Let them decide if they want to dig up their dads. There were better investments for my resources. Max for starters.

Men. I knew they weren't all dogs, but I knew even the purest of breeds had doggish tendencies.

Flipping my hand to the air, I said, “Thanks to my giving in to
that
little girl's demand, nobody was happy.”
Nobody!

The day Conner came to my house to meet Alexis, I'd gotten all dressed up to show Conner I'd made it without him. I was the branch president of a major financial institution. Owned a mansion in Buckhead free and clear, drove a white Benz or a fire-engine-red Ferrari wherever I wanted. I'd sent each of my girls to college, had a hefty six figures in the bank, and the day Conner stepped his crippled feet into my house, I had a man twenty-three years my junior living under my roof, sexing me real good.

For once in my life, Blake Crystal had it all.

No one was going to cast shade on my sunshine, not even my flesh and blood.

I exhaled. Checked my cell. No missed anything. I knew that. Wasn't as though I'd heard a tune. I scrolled through old text messages from Spencer.

One that stood out read,
The one thing I asked you not to tell anyone, you told a complete stranger
. The knots in my stomach returned. The pain was more intense.

From that devastating moment, distrust plagued our beautiful relationship. I'd messed things up. That day when I opened my front door, I was shocked Spencer had overheard me tell my girlfriend about his having been molested by his uncle. I'd broken our bond. Since that day, Spencer hadn't kissed, held, or made love to me the same way, but we were still together. Lots of couples trampled through quicksand and survived to celebrate ten, twenty, sometimes fifty years of being with each other. I was just trying to make it to our first anniversary.

Pressing my palms together, I prayed, “Dear God, please give me patience, understanding, and wisdom. I love this man, Jesus.”

Soon I'd have to get up. Get dressed. I wasn't ready. Didn't want to be in bed either.

I said aloud, “Give him time, Blake.” Rebuilding our trust was hard for me too. I hadn't forgotten about his ex, Charlotte, calling me a bitch.

Being with Spencer made me feel thirty again. Not in a good way. Those were the days when ten pounds would disappear from my hips and thighs with my constantly worrying about my man while eating very little food.

Racing to the bathroom, I leaned over the toilet, then heaved. Nothing came up. Where was Spencer? Who was he really with? Alexis could be home alone.

I was doing it again. Driving myself crazy with the unknown. No matter how many thoughts crossed my mind, I couldn't make him come home.

I stared in the mirror. My irises were red, lips curved down. “Girl, you look old.” I splashed cold water on my face.

Was Spencer penetrating some woman? If he was, did she feel the way I'd felt when his dick was inside of me? Was she a better lover? Did she suck his dick better? That wasn't hard to do. I never enjoyed giving oral. Was she younger? Prettier?

Lifting the sides of my cheeks took ten years off. Maybe I should get Botox.

I knew if Spencer entered this bathroom, wrapped his arms around me, told me, “Baby, I love you,” his few words could erase hours of my pain. If he was lying, once he'd penetrate me I'd forgive him.

Tomorrow wasn't promised.

Tears mixed with cold water. I kept washing them away.

I dried my hands, got my phone, texted Alexis,
You'd better not have told Spencer about my sexing Billy Blackstone after my fiftieth birthday party!

I meant to backspace to delete the message. Instead, I pressed send. My heart raced and I went into a daze. My screen became a blur.

Again, I worried what would become of my unintended confession that was in print. I was the master of confidentiality, in my professional life. All of my girls had been unusually quiet for the past month or so. Something was going on that my girls didn't want me to know.

I texted Alexis again,
You're jealous! You thought Spencer was going to leave me after he found out you're his sister. What you're doing is wrong, little girl!

She was so sure my man was going to bail as she'd said. This inviting him out after midnight—siblings or not—that wasn't happening again. She needed to tend to her man and her woman and put the right ring on the proper finger.

I backspaced, deleting the second message. Wished I could erase the entire night. Start over. Spencer wouldn't have gone out.

Alexis was the only one who'd relentlessly questioned me from the day she could speak in complete sentences. She was the one who always challenged me. Now, for the first time since Spencer had moved in with me, he was not in my bed at the break of dawn.

The sun had started rising.

“Hey, you. Good morning,” I said softly, talking to my puppy. I scooped him up with both hands.

I went from having the finest man in Atlanta in my bed to stroking a three-month old Yorkshire terrier that Billy gifted me.

King MaxB was adorable.

For my fiftieth birthday, my eldest daughter, Mercedes, threw me the biggest surprise birthday party I'd ever had. All seven of my siblings came. Their kids. Their kids' kids. To top it off she'd managed to find my first love, Billy.

So much had happened since that affair with Billy, if I could call it that. It was three months ago, that night (and the following morning) when we'd had sex, I had no idea he was married. I gave myself to him to get back at Spencer for not being by my side on one of the most important nights of my life. I was never going to turn fifty again.

My cell in one hand, rubbing Max with my other, it was six in the morning. In an hour I'd have to start getting ready for work. Corporate still hadn't given me my well-deserved promotion from the branch level. I wanted out of the daily responsibilities of operating a branch. If I resigned, what would I do? Maybe I should apply for a lateral banking position at a different institution, then work my way up.

“Hm.”

I sat on the side of my bed, placed Max in my lap. Gently touching his back, I dialed Spencer's number. My Yorkie rolled over, spread his legs. Kind of how I'd done for Billy that night, but I'd gotten a lot more than a tummy rub. If Alexis showed Spencer my text, I'd never forgive her.

I smiled until I got Spencer's voice mail. Smooth hang-up. I'll see your missed call.

Calmly, I said, “Yeah, Spencer. I've called you every hour since you've left. I deserve a call back.” Then thought,
Don't make me pack your stuff.

The only thing that kept me from making a hasty decision was this precious, delicate, five-pound baby staring up at me. Max licked my hand three times.

Since Spencer worked the evening shift at the Cheesecake Factory bartending, he watched Max during the day. Calling in would give my supervisor a reason not to promote me.

I placed Max on my bed on his tan cashmere blanket. I got dressed with the intent of going to Spencer's apartment. I undressed. Dressed again. Sat at the foot of my bed, looked at Max. He tilted his head sideways. Stared at me.

“I know,” I said to him as though he could understand.

I changed into a black pencil skirt, red fitted blazer, and red heels. I phoned my youngest. I'd have to take my puppy to work with me and hide him in my office if Sandara didn't answer. Didn't trust leaving him home alone for nine hours. Didn't have a kennel for him. Probably would never get one. This little guy was too cute to cage. Maybe I should enroll Max in doggie daycare.

“Hey, Mom. You okay?”

Her concern was valid. Normally, I wouldn't call this early. “I'm fine. Spencer's not here and—”

“Oh, yeah. That's right.”

“That's right what?”

Sandara sighed, “Nothing, Mom. What is it?”

Oh, it was something I'd address later. “Can you watch Max until I get off from work?”

“When did you start working on Saturdays?”

“Can you watch him or not?”

“Well”—she paused, then said—“of course, Mom. Bring him over. I'll be here. Bye.” Sandara ended the call.

I dialed Spencer again. The ringing stopped. I held my breath. Then I heard Alexis? Arguing? I recognized Charlotte's voice, but what the hell? Increasing the volume on my cell, I pressed the mute button and could not believe my ears. All the back-and-forth shouting sounded as though someone was about to get assaulted.

I heard Spencer say, “Alexis, no!” right before the call ended.

I froze. I couldn't inhale. Exhale. Felt like Alexis, Spencer, and that other woman had stabbed me in my head, my heart, and my back at the same time and Sandara had watched me bleed to death.