Love Redeemed, Book 4 (4 page)

Azmir
has kept pushing, has kept fighting, kept holding the mirror to my marred soul. He’s chipped at that ice which surrounded my heart. I’ve been undoubtedly drawn to him, which gives him access. I’ve tried running. God, how many times have I run from this man who’s chased me down countless times! He’d always been clear about what he wanted, never asking for anything unreasonable. He’s only wanted the assurance of my commitment to protect his heart. To be a stable being in life. When I thought it was him trying to impress me with luxury gifts, trips, and a car, it had been about him trying to gain my attention. When I thought it was about sex, it had really been about him wanting a connection. When I’d thought it been about control or possession, it was really about him fighting for permanency in my heart.

My god, he’s been clear all this time.

Yeah, he’s thrown me by not telling me loves me and giving me the coveted title of his girlfriend, but hell—when had I earned his trust to be given such a title? And with all the frantic running I’ve done, how could he have trusted me with the depths of his feelings? The revelations don’t end. They follow me to the marina, through dinner, into the shower and to bed.

And before closing my eyes to slumber, I ma
ke a decree within my heart. No more running. I will love Azmir the way the he deserves. I’ll give him the devotion and staying power I’ve never been granted. He’s mine—something he demonstrated when he asked me to move into a home that he’d never even had his best friends in. And from here on out, I will certainly be his.

Rayna

“Are you nervous?” Ray asks from the front seat of the Bentley.

I
’m toying with the massage controls of the console, discerning the various settings.
Who needs this in a car?
Just a minute ago I was exploring the television, flipping through the available channels.

I c
an’t understand for the life of me why Azmir would purchase a new Bentley. What’s the difference between this one and the last? Yeah, he’s gone from some variation of brown to a classic black shade called black crystal, according to him. And he’s explained the new sharp edges to the body, the oval exhaust pipe, and the jeweled front headlamps, but who cares about those insignificant details. The last car was perfectly functional under the hood, sleek in appearance, and came with the same pretentious accessory of a chauffeur. It wasn’t enough, so he had to upgrade an already luxuriant car.

“Just ride in it. You’ll appreciate the
indulgence during the experience,”
is what he offered as an answer when I’d asked him the reason for the new purchase this morning as we dressed for work. He’d packed his clothes for his overnight stay in Seattle, where he has a series of meetings that will run late into the evening.

“You know what?
I’ll have Ray drive you today. This way you’ll get the experience right away. Trust, you’ll understand,”
he insisted.

“Azmir,
don’t forget, I have that thing,”
I reminded him. “
I’d like to go alone.”

“Ray understands discretion, Brimm. How many times must we visit this topic of privacy and professionalism? And besides, Ray is more like family. He’ll
look out for you. I won’t even send John along,”
he covertly issued an edict. And of course, he employed his coochie-creaming smile. The one that had us both late for the start of our day.

Now, I’m checking out the features, tryin
g to circumvent my anxiety.

“No,
” I answer Ray.

I’m not sure if he believe
s me or not. I don’t even care. I’m upset at having to be babysat once again and during such a personal time. A desperate plea.

“Is this them?” Ray call
s out, causing my head to sprout from middle console.

My mouth drie
s and a spike of bitter film coats my tongue as I see Amber’s weathered turquoise Accord pull into the driveway. When the brake lights appear just before she turns the engine off, I see a little head bounce up and down from the rear seats.

It’s now or never, Rayna.

On tenterhooks, I grab the bag to the left of me on the floorboard, and use my other shaky and suddenly moist hand to grab the chrome handle of the right side door.  Blowing out a cool breath, I step outside onto the curb. I pinch the plastic mailbox posted across from the lawn between my index finger and thumb in dither as I stride past it. I don’t realize I’m doing it until I feel the clench of my fingers. In fact, I don’t process walking; it feels more like I’m floating. With all of my nervousness, I can’t cognitively coordinate body functions. I feel like Spike Lee’s distinguished camera shots when the characters are gliding to their destination instead of actually walking.

When I arrive just feet away, in the driveway, Amber notice
s me just as she’s opening the back door directly behind the driver’s seat. Her mouth drops slightly and I use the tip of my tongue to wet my lips. I’m sure my expression mirrors hers, but for different reasons.

Being
jarred by my presence, she doesn’t notice right away when the little head full of sandy blonde curls comes bouncing out of the car. When the little person turns to me, my breath catches at the sharpness of her brilliant hazel eyes. The eyes that widen in wonderment at recognizing me.

“Auntie Na-Na!”
She jumps in place and begins running in my direction.

Erin.

I bite back a cry. I won’t cry today. Not
here.
I told myself it would be counterproductive.

She’
s slightly taller than I’d last seen, not too much. But what’s clear is the baby fat in her face has ebbed a little. She’s growing into a school-aged doll. Features stolen from her mother that I can easily recognize, and some not so familiar that I can assume are from her father, were sharper. Her voice is the same, but her words are spoken with more clarity. My little girl is becoming a big girl.

I fa
ll on my haunches and we embrace for what feels like hours, but in reality it is just for seconds. Her hair smells of strawberries, her favorite fruit.

I pull back so that I
can get wrapped up in those hazel irises again, she murmurs, “I thought you forgot all about me.”

My brows r
ise and trying to measure my reaction, I allow my smile to expand with it. Rushing out on a breath, I answer, “Never. Auntie will never forget her favorite little girl.”

I notice in my peripheral, Amber making her way towards us
as Erin retorts, “Well, where you been? I was missing you.”

It t
akes every fiber of my being to not break down. I keep reminding myself that crying would only scare and confuse Erin. She’d never understand. I give a cursory glance towards Amber, who wears a discerning scowl.

“Honey, Auntie’s moved. I don’t live by the beach anymore. And now that you’ve moved, too, it’s hard to see you like I used to. But I miss you
every day, ladybug. Every day.”

Erin’s eyes li
ght up at that name. It was what Michelle would call her.

Michelle.

Ughhhh! Next thought, brain!

“I had a birthday!” she
gleams.

A birthday that I had all planned out
, but never saw to fruition
. It felt like yesterday when I’d taken Michelle out for a spin in the new car Azmir had just given me—or let me “borrow”—and detailed the vision of a ballerina’s ball party that I’d thought up. When I could get her to focus more on the specs of the party rather than the features of the Benz, she excitedly approved. I wish I could go back to that very day and say so much that I’d deferred to time. Like making sure she’d made it known that I would be a part of Erin’s life upon Michelle’s departure from this side.

“I know. And that’s why Auntie’
s here.” I pivot to find the large gift bag. I then move it towards her. “I have a few things for you. I think you’ll find them cool. At least I hope you do.”

“Ooooh! I will! Promise
!” she assures as she goes for the bag. It’s almost as tall as she stands and far wider.

“Don’t forget your book bag, Erin,” Amber softly chide
s as she hands it to her.

I t
ake the double shoulder strap bag and appropriately place it onto her little shoulders so that her hands are free to handle the gift bag. Just then, I see the front door open and a brunette woman with a bob cut, warmly calls for Erin.

Erin yell
s to the woman that she’ll be right there then turns to me solemnly and mumbles, “If I eat all my veggies and make my bed the right way would you come back, Auntie Na-Na?”

I choke out, “Baby, I
’d love to see you no matter what you do or don’t. I love you, Lil E.”

Her face li
ghts up one thousand kilowatts, which tells me that I’m not getting choked up too much.

“Thanks! See you later
.” She hugs me tightly. My eyes flutter during the embrace.

Cue Regina Belle’s “If I Could
.”

Amber and I watch as Erin
tows the oversized gift bag behind her, up the driveway and into the house with gingered efforts.

Before I break my doting gaze, Amber turns to face me again. Her honey blonde hair draping her shoulders. “So, it’s true,” she tilts her chin, gesturing towards the Bentley.

I pivot to follow her line of sight, then turn back towards her. “What?”

“You have a Sugar Daddy,” she replies noncommittally.

That quickly, I
am offended. So soon has she come from her corner swinging.

“Look, Amber. I didn’t come
here to—”

“You didn’t have to come. You were not invited.”

“How long are you going to play this game? I’m only asking for one weekend a month. More if you need me. I just want to help.”

“Help who? Help me? Or help settle your consci
ence for my cousin taking you in? Well, lucky for you, Rayna, she’s dead. All debt has been cleared...null and void.” Amber spews her words evenly. I guess as to not alert Erin or anyone else in the house.

“Looks to me, you’ve moved on to your next benefactor?” She motion
s towards the Bentley again. I can’t help but feel that word
benefactor
, in its context, rings familiar. That aside, right now I can visualize kicking Azmir in the shin for forcing me to take his car. Not that mine would have been any better; Amber was only familiar with my old Cavalier. “I heard he’s pretty well off. You always luck up.”

I d
on’t know if she’s goading me for a fight to prove that I’m as classless as she’s always asserted, or if her ire for me soars that high. I also don’t know how long, at this rate, it will be before I finally break. Break down and break her nose...or her face.

5-4-3-2-1...

“For me,” I mutter.

“What?” Her brows narrow in confusion.

“I need to do this for me. I need Erin in my life for me. Yes, I’d owed Michelle a debt of gratitude for the multitude of things she did for me. But this goes far beyond obligation for me. I’ve bonded with that little girl in there,” I motion behind her, toward the house Erin had run into. “I’m no stranger to her you saw that.”

“I’m going to tell you just like I told Uncle Dave: Erin is being taken care of by her
family
. She’s loved and is thriving. You will not use her as a reason to further nip off this family. You have a new conquest.” She motions again toward the Bentley, and absentmindedly, I turn to find that Ray has come out and is standing next to the car, possibly sensing our heated conversation. I exhale, frustrated for just breathing at the moment.

“You have a new life
now and thank god. For years you leached from Michelle. She moved you out here, gave you a place to live, got you a dream job—”

“You can have the position!” f
lew from my mouth, unexpected by my brain. I’m desperate to wager a deal now that we’re face-to-face. I want that much to be a part of Erin’s life. “Is that what this is about? I swear you can have the role. I’ll go back to central as an attending PT. Or I can float...I don’t care; just give me some time with her.”

Amber chuckles
, “Rayna, don’t be foolish. I will have that position just as soon as I’m done with my internship. I’ve been assigned to Adams.” She gives a menacing smile. “I’ll complete my hours and put in a request to manage the Long Beach City office. Then, you will be completely abdicated of my family; all of us.”

“Is that what you really want?”

She chuckles sinisterly, “Of course! I never liked you from the first time I saw you, Rayna. This we know. And at first it was simple jealousy from my big cousin, who I looked up to, bonding with someone else.” I’m glad she can admit how insular her grievances were. Michelle and I had known it from day one, but viewed it as insignificant. How wrong we were. Amber now holds all the cards.

“But then I learned my instincts weren’t as off as I thought, and certainly sharper than my cousin’s. You use people, Rayna, all the time. And I now suspect your manipulation from the start of your relationship with Michelle.”

“Excuse me?” I don’t understand this new revelation. Amber wasn’t around when I met Michelle.

“How ironic
was it that you met a fellow undergrad whose family owned a physical therapy firm, especially when you wanted to study it in school?”

“I didn’t exactly arrive at Duke with an occupation in mind,” I argue.

“Which then narrows it down to something less strategic. You took on a field that she could help advance you in when you were done!”

My mouth collapse
s at her most absurd theory.

“Amber, Michelle invited me out here just days before my graduation. I had no plans after graduating. She did what a real friend does; she helped me navigate when my ambition was stifled.”

Amber laughs again. “
Ambition was stifled
. Big concept for a girl from the hood. More evidence of my cousin’s influence. Influence that I’m proud of because, similar to her mother, she was notorious for being influenced by others instead of being proud of who she was.”

“Whoa!” I sho
ot back cautiously. “I can’t speak for her mother, but Michelle was African American, too. She was true to who she was. She was a black woman, Amber—”

“Half black!” she
corrects archly before waving her hand in the air dismissively as she pinches the bridge of her nose.