Kinkade, Lea - I Got a Feelin' [The Chisholms of Texas 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (23 page)

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I really am. I know it can’t be easy to think your own mother would do something like this to you. That she could hurt you like this.”

“What have your investigators learned about her? Is she still a prostitute? Is she still a drug addict?” Her voice grew cold as she let the rage take over.

“How did you know…?”

“I know your family. They would have learned everything they could about her the minute she became a threat to any member of this family.”

“That family now includes you, you know? My family doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any perceived threat to our business or reputations. Our only concern is for you and making sure she can’t hurt you again.”

At her raised brow, he finally answered her questions. “Yes, to both questions. She’s a step away from living on the streets. The years have not been kind to her and…” His voice drifted off as he visibly stopped himself from telling her the rest.

“And she can’t get as much money for her services anymore. Is that what you were going to say?” Samantha had lived with her mother long enough to know how much money meant to the woman. Tonya Michaels had been a high-priced call girl when Samantha lived with her. Samantha wasn’t so young that she didn’t figure out what was going on. Besides, her mother never tried to hide her activities from her impressionable young daughter. Samantha looked a lot like her and she knew men had thought her mother was beautiful.

“Yeah.” He got up from the bed and stepped in front of her as she continued to pace. As he put his arms around her, she let her body sink into his for a few minutes before she straightened back up, thinking about this new development.

“Isn’t what she’s doing against the law? Isn’t it blackmail or extortion or something?” At one time, she had thought that her mother might have let her go because she thought it would be best for her little girl. Now, she knew better. Her biological mother, that’s the only way she could think of the woman who had given her life but little else, was a horrible woman. She was a criminal and was trying to hurt people who had shown Samantha nothing but kindness and love. Cassie Chisholm had been more of a mother to Samantha than Tonya Michaels had ever been. Samantha finally realized that the stigma of what her mother was belonged solely to Tonya Michaels. She had been an innocent child and was not to blame for who and what her parents were.

With that realization, Samantha knew it didn’t matter if her story was splashed on the cover of a national tabloid or on the ten o’clock news. The majority of people would not blame an innocent child for the sins of her parents. Those who would didn’t matter. Samantha was finally going to stand up for herself. Tonya Michaels had negatively affected Samantha’s relationships from the time of her birth until now. Samantha wasn’t going to let her do it anymore. Enough was enough.

“Yes, it is, according to Uncle Marcus, but if we take this to the police, the story will get out for sure. We’re trying to avoid that for your sake.”

“You can’t be thinking of actually paying her, can you?” She was stunned at the lengths her new family would go to in order to protect her. “No! No way! She’s nothing to me anymore. Less than nothing. I won’t let her hurt your family,
my family
, like this. You’re not paying that woman a single penny, and we’re not messing around with her anymore trying to get her to keep her mouth shut.”

“Are you sure, darlin’? None of us want to see you hurt by this woman anymore.”

“She can’t hurt me anymore. No matter what she does or says. That woman gave birth to me, but she was never a mother. Cassie Chisholm is my mother and Alex Chisholm is my father. I have five great brothers and three wonderful sisters. I have more family then I ever thought possible.” Her utter conviction shone from her eyes.

“You do, you know. My family loves you like you’re one of their own. My mom and dad couldn’t love you more if you’d been born to them.” He swooped in and gave her a steamy kiss.

“We need to talk to Xander, Uncle Marcus, and your dad. I’m sure they have a way to contact her. I need to talk to the woman.” Samantha refused to call her “Mother.” She didn’t deserve that title. “She needs to know we’re prepared to go to the police and press charges if she doesn’t stop threatening our family. She needs to know that I don’t care if she gives a press conference and announces to the whole damn world that she’s a prostitute. The only person she can hurt anymore is herself.”

“You’re right, darlin’. She can’t hurt anyone but herself. But you don’t have to be the one to tell her that. Let me or Uncle Marcus handle it. Both of us would be happy to tell her to go to hell for you.” She knew he didn’t want her to have to say two words to the woman, let alone be in the same room with her.

“Thank you, Ryan, but I think I need to do this myself. It’s like writing the words ‘The End’ at the end of a book. I need to face the woman and end this myself. Of course I want you with me. I imagine Uncle Marcus will want to be there as well.” She wanted Ryan to be by her side as she fully embraced her new life.

* * * *

One week later, Samantha sat patiently in the overstuffed floral couch of the hotel suite in Corpus Christi, where she and Ryan were staying, waiting for Tonya Michaels to show up for her supposed pay off. Samantha refused to think of the woman as her mother. No woman worthy of the title “Mother” would attempt to do what Tonya was trying to do to her child.

Ryan sat right next to her on the couch, his body touching the length of hers, holding her hand. His thumb caressed her hand repeatedly in a calming show of support. Samantha knew he didn’t want her to be here. He’d told her he wanted to take care of Tonya himself so that Samantha would never have to see the woman again. Although she understood his desire to protect her from any further hurt that this woman might cause her, she needed to deal with this herself. She wanted Ryan there for moral support, but she needed to handle this in her own way.

Uncle Marcus was sitting at the desk in the room, quietly reviewing the information in the report they had received from the private investigator. The private investigator had reviewed the contents of the report on Tonya Michaels before he left their suite last night. Once she and Ryan had returned to their own room, Samantha had pored over the details in the report, searching for any information about her two half brothers the private investigators had discovered.

She didn’t give a flying fuck about Tonya Michaels. No. Any positive feelings Samantha may have had for the woman who had given birth to her had died a cold death when she had attempted to blackmail the Chisholms to keep quiet about her “profession” to save the Chisholms and Samantha any embarrassment that the information would cause.

Uncle Marcus had already prepared a written statement regarding the situation that would be released to reputable members of the press as soon as Samantha confronted Tonya about her demands. They had decided to go on the offensive and take any power that Tonya thought she had out of her greedy hands. The statement detailed Samantha’s childhood and how she had made something of her life despite all the obstacles. Although it didn’t come right out and say Tonya was a prostitute, it suggested that the reader look up her arrest record which was full of arrests for solicitation and theft.

Samantha looked at the clock on the bed stand. The woman was already nearly fifteen minutes late. Samantha decided to give her another five minutes before they packed up and left for home. Moments later, a loud knock sounded at the door. Ryan squeezed Samantha’s hand gently then got up to answer the door to the suite. As they had previously discussed, Samantha stayed out of sight on the couch.

Samantha heard the door open and she knew Ryan was ushering Tonya into the room.

“You must be Tonya Michaels. Come in,” she heard Ryan say in a strained voice. She heard the door shut.

“I ain’t got a lotta time. Just give me the dough so I can get outta here.” Samantha frowned. The raspy voice was not the voice she remembered from her childhood. Thirty years of smoking cigarettes and taking drugs had taken a toll on what used to be a sexy southern drawl.

“Who are you?” Tonya demanded, “Where’s the cash?”

“I’m Ryan Chisholm. I’m Samantha’s fiancé. This is my uncle, Marcus Chisholm. He’s our family attorney. Do you want to sit down?”

“Holy shit! The picture in the paper didn’t do you justice. I gotta give that girl a hand. She sure got her hooks into the right family. Rich and good-looking, too. You sure ain’t hard on the eyes. I been trying to land a rich, good-looking man like you for thirty years. Always did have the worst luck. Birthed me three brats trying to get a good payoff. Social Services took all of ’em away from me. Not like I wanted them anyways. They didn’t get me nothin’ but another mouth to feed.

“Sure took ’em long enough to take Sammy away from me for good. I thought they’d never get it done. After her prick of a father refused to acknowledge the little brat, there was no reason to keep her around. I got smarter with the boys. Soon as I found out their asshole fathers weren’t going to pony up, I managed to get ’em taken away from me so I didn’t have to take care of ’em no more. Kids cramp my style, if you know what I mean. Hard to earn money in my profession when you’re babysitting a brat.”

“I would imagine so,” drawled Uncle Marcus. Samantha could hear the anger simmering just below the surface. So far, Ryan hadn’t responded to Tonya’s diatribe.

“Let’s get this show on the road already. I got places to be,” said Tonya brusquely.

“You’re the one that was nearly twenty minutes late, Ms. Michaels. We thought maybe you’d thought about what you were trying to do and had second thoughts. I’m sorry to hear we were mistaken,” said Uncle Marcus.

“Change my mind? Are you nuts? This is my ticket out. One of my brats is finally taking care of her momma like kids are supposed to. I ain’t gettin’ any younger, ya know?”

“Well, Ms. Michaels, I’m afraid there has been a slight change in plans,” said Uncle Marcus stiffly.

“The hell you say. What are ya’ll trying to pull? I got the phone number for the Inquisitor right here in my pocket. One call and the Chisholms will be the laughingstock of Texas. Maybe even the whole damn country. Don’t fuck with me. I’ll do it. I’m not jackin’ around. Now, where’s my money?” Tonya demanded.

Samantha had heard enough. She thought she had prepared herself for the ugliness that was Tonya Michaels. She’d been fooling herself. Nothing could have prepared her for the vitriol spewing out of this woman’s mouth. Samantha was both sick at heart and sick to her stomach. She needed to end this now before she was physically ill.

“I’m afraid there’s not going to be any payoffs for you, Tonya, so you can start figuring out a new retirement plan,” said Samantha coldly as she stepped into view. Although there had been pictures of Tonya in the private investigator’s report, they had been taken from a distance and were slightly grainy. Samantha wasn’t prepared to see what thirty years of selling her body, too much booze, and drugs had done to Tonya. Although nearly fifty years old, the woman was dressed in a halter top and a miniskirt. Her complexion was sallow and there were wrinkles on her face and body from hard living. Her hair, once luxurious and thick, was now thin and wispy. She bore very little resemblance to the beautiful woman Samantha remembered from childhood. Life had not been good to Tonya Michaels.

“Sammy? Is that you? Lord girl you turned into a real beauty. Reminds me of myself at your age. How old are you now anyway, twenty-two, twenty-three?”

“Hello,
Mother
. I’m twenty-seven actually, and I hope to God that, genetically, I got nothing from you. Even if I did, I thank the Lord that Social Services took me away from you so I don’t take after you in any other way but my physical appearance.” Walking closer to the woman, Samantha went on, “You’ll get nothing from the Chisholms today, Tonya, or any other day for that matter. The only reason they even considered giving you money was to protect me. They couldn’t care less how your story will affect them either financially or socially. The only thing they care about is protecting
me
.”

“Well, I see you haven’t changed all that much. Still a prudish little brat ain’t ya? Always did think you were better’n me, didn’t you, Sammy? Even as a little girl you thought you were better than where you come from.”

Samantha had heard more than enough. She had thought she might be able to get some information from Tonya about her half brothers but realized she wouldn’t be getting any help from this woman to find her half brothers and she just wanted this to be done.

“I
am
better than you, Tonya. I would never get pregnant for the sole purpose of milking the father for money. I would never sell my body for drugs and money. I would never let someone take my child away from me without doing everything I could to get her back. I am nothing like you and, in my estimation, that makes me better than you. You’re not getting a dime. Get out of here and go back to the hole you crawled out of.”

“I’m not pissin’ around with you people. I got nothing to lose. That reporter at the paper guaranteed me at least a hundred thousand for any dirt on one of the Chisholms. I bet my story will be worth a whole hell of a lot more than that once he knows everything. I was being nice giving you a chance to pay me to keep quiet, but if you don’t give me the money, I got no reason not to go back to that reporter.”

Ryan, who had been unusually quiet throughout the exchange, came forward to take Samantha’s hand in his and spoke for the first time.