Red Hot Liar (9781617738654) (6 page)

Until he lost his job, that is.

Digger Ducane had once been an employee of Dominion Oil, but when the opportunity arose for him to become a contractor and run his own business, he had jumped at it. He had stayed close to the company though, and his brother-in-law had given him a lucrative transportation contract to move crude oil with his huge fleet of trucks.

But when Viceroy was caught in that rig explosion right around the time that the price of oil skyrocketed and profits dropped, Digger's company had taken a hit. With Viceroy in a coma and his condition touch-and-go, Digger had decided to make a risky move and he jumped ship to go earn a paycheck from his brother-in-law's main competitor, Ruddman Energy.

Pilar glanced at her gas gauge again as she sped down the highway. That baby was damn near sitting on E and she still had miles to go. Money had been super-tight at the Ducane manor, and it pissed her off that while she and her father ate cornflakes for dinner, her rich family members didn't think to so much as throw them a chicken bone outta their table scraps. Things had gotten so tight with their pockets that she'd started eating most of her meals at the Dominion mansion. She'd get with the cook and order up whatever she wanted, and then eat until she was full and take the leftovers home to her father.

Pilar was full of pride and being somebody's charity case was way beneath her. All of her shopping and vacations and dropping a credit card to buy whatever she wanted had come to a screeching halt. She hated using her aunt's mansion like it was a soup kitchen, but with every dime her father brought home going toward the mortgage and keeping the lights on, mooching food from their family members was the least of their worries. It pissed Pilar off that
not one
of those damn Dominions thought to ask if she and her father needed anything. They saw her stepping out looking pressed and perfect every day and assumed her pockets were stuffed just as fat as theirs were, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Deep inside Pilar knew her aunt would come to their rescue and hook her up with some cash if she asked her to, but she shouldn't have to ask! She was family, dammit, and she deserved to have the same damn riches that Fallon and Jock and Barron and Dane, and now even that ghetto bitch Mink had! And to make things worse, Barron knew what kind of financial bind she was in. He
knew
she had big dreams and she was trying to live the high life!

That fucker made her sick. She had tried her best to get his punk-ass to marry her and make her a Dominion. After all the freaky fucking they had gotten down on, and all that spur-of-the-moment dick sucking she had done, she had been
this close
to getting him to put a ring on it. But then, out of nowhere he had stepped up in her house running her some bullshit about how they couldn't be together anymore because his father was out of his coma and might find out that he was banging his own cousin on the sly.

Pilar had gone the fuck off! After all that good pussy she had wiped on him? Barron knew good and goddamn well that they were
not
related! His ass was adopted, and that meant they had no real family ties. So she had trashed his ass. Scratched his face up, beaned him upside his head with whatever she could get her hands on, and straight up cursed his ass out.

And later, after she had calmed down and decided she had played herself just a little bit out of pocket, Pilar had snuck over to the mansion at the break of dawn intending to give Barron some pussy and make nice with him, and that's when she caught him coming out of Mink's room damn near naked with his drawers all caked up with wet cum!

That was it. That was the last fucking straw. Pilar had pulled a bottle of wine out of her sex kit and tried to smash a home run with his head. That nigga was just twisted and nasty! He had tossed her off just so he could bang his so-called sister, Mink, and that shit was unforgiveable. And ever since then she had been on a mission to pay his ass back. To fuck him up in any way she could, and she didn't care how long it took her or what she had to do, Barron was going to get his. Oh, yes the fuck he was!

Pilar's blood pressure had crept up thinking about Barron, and so had her speedometer as she mashed hard on the gas pedal. She forced herself to slow down and take a couple of deep breaths, and she had just gotten the whip under the speed limit when her cell phone rang through her car's speakers.

“Pilar!” a gritty-sounding voice blasted into her car. “Gurl, I need some help.”

Pilar frowned. “Hell, I need some help too. Who is this?”

She heard some teeth get sucked. “It's Dy-Nasty!”

Pilar sneered. “Dy-Nasty? Didn't they throw your funky behind in jail? I know damn well you're not calling me collect!”

“No, stupid! Did you accept a collect call? One of the COs let me use his cell phone. Look, shit is getting real funky up in here and I need a favor. Can you bail me out right quick? I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get on my feet and turn a few dollars.”

Laughter exploded out of Pilar's mouth. This bitch had some nerve! This tore-down trick had gotten her funky pussy munched out by
her
man in
her
damn bed! Pilar still hadn't forgiven fat-man Ray for that shit!

“Are you serious?
Me
? Bail
your
ass out? Now why in the world would I want to do that?”

Dy-Nasty sucked her teeth real loud again. “Oh I see how you living! It was all well and good when you needed me to help you get
Bearrun's
ass in a jam, right? We was working together then, but now that I need just a little tiny favor you wanna act brand new!”

Pilar sucked her teeth right back.

“Me and you have never been partners and we're never
ever
going to be friends! Besides, I don't have any money to be giving you for bail! Hell, I'm tryna put some gas in my car! You'd better call Aunt Selah and ask her.”

“Stupid she's the one who got me locked up in the first place!”

Pilar laughed. “Well, I guess
somebody's
stuck in the pokey then! No really,” she said, getting serious. “You should call her,” she advised. “She might be looking for another charity case. Uncle Viceroy just found out that some dude has her old engagement ring and he kicked her ass straight out to the pool house!” Pilar couldn't help giggling. “Maybe she'll bail you out and let you press a bunk out there with her.”
Click!

B
arron's tires screeched and burned rubber into the pavement as he slammed on his brakes outside the Dominion Estate. He left his brand-new red Maserati running as he jumped out and sprinted around back and across the grass to the pool house. The pain in his mother's voice had stabbed him deep in his heart and he couldn't believe his father had stooped so damn low.

He had called Viceroy the moment he hung up with Selah but his father's phone had just rang and rang. “Yeah, you better not pick up, muthafucka,” Barron had breathed into his cell, mad as fuck and still dripping gym sweat. There was no telling what he would have told that bastard if he had answered the damn phone, but there wouldn't have been an ounce of respect in it.

“Mama!” he called out for Selah even before he hit the pool house door. “Mama, are you in here?”

He strode through the front room and past the small kitchenette and found her sitting on a small stool in the bedroom sipping liquor from a cocktail glass.

“What the hell?” he panted with rage, barely able to control himself as he eyed the baskets of designer clothing that were strewn about the room. “You mean he put your shit out here like this, Mama?” He clenched his fists. “That
mmmm
put all your shit—”

“It's okay, Barron,” Selah hushed him. She was on her third drink and had calmed down enough to think a bit more clearly.

“Hell no it's not okay!” Barron barked. He walked over to her and snatched the liquor from her hand and then peered closely at her face.

“What happened to your eye, Mama?” And then a wave of fury washed over him. “Did Daddy hit you?” he roared. “Did that black piece of shit
put his hands on you
?”

Selah stood up quickly, shaking her head. “No, no, no! No, Barron! Your father might talk crazy sometimes but you know he would never,
ever
put his hands on me in anger! Please, son.” She reached out and took her drink back. “I'm okay. Everything will work out. It'll all be fine.”

“You're damn right it will,” Barron said, taking her hand and turning toward the door. “C'mon. I'm taking you back in the house.”

“No!” Selah pulled away. “I'm not going back in there.”

“Okay, cool,” he said. “You don't have to. Daddy's crib ain't the only joint in town. I'll take you to a hotel. The best one in the city. I'll rent you a penthouse suite and I'll even stay there with you.”

Selah squeezed her eyes closed and slowly shook her head. “I'm not leaving here, Barron. This pool house is part of my home too, and I'm staying right here. I'll be okay. In fact, I think it'll be good for me. It'll show your father that I'm serious about working on our issues.”

“But
you
ain't the one with the issues, Mama! If he's got a problem then let
him
move his stuff out here and you go back inside!”

“I'm staying out here, Barron,” Selah said with an air of finality that let him know this thing was settled. “I'm sorry I called you and made you so upset, but I'm going to serve my punishment right out here where he put me, and once I'm done and your father has forgiven me, then maybe he'll let me back into his life.”

 

Even though the mansion was situated practically in the middle of nowhere and there was always at least a couple of staff members patrolling the grounds, Okrah rolled with her own security team and they combed over the joint like the president's Secret Service before they even let her outta the whip.

Mama Selah had selected our interview spot, and it was in an area of the backyard where giant oak trees stood and she'd had the gardener plant a botanical garden full of colorful flowers. There were a bunch of off-white outdoor loveseats arranged around a big wicker table, and fancy pitchers of lemonade and sweet tea with lots and lots of sliced lemons set the mood off just right.

Forget all that yang I had popped to Bunni about being on TV. I was hyped as hell to meet Okrah and I put on my precious little white girl voice and performed like a mutha!

“It's nice to meet you, Mizz Sinfree,” I gushed all over myself after we were introduced. I went to give her a big hug like Selah had done, but Okrah checked me real quick before I could get too close.

“Yes, it's nice to meet you too,” she said and gave me a fake little smile with her thin little lips.

I didn't know how to be with that. I wouldn'ta ate none of that mess she cooked, but I had watched her talk show plenty of times and everybody knew Mama O didn't have no shame in her game. As soon as the cameras got to rolling she was gonna be all up in my grill like we was best friends, asking me what color drawers I had on and when was the last time I changed them. The least she could do was show a sistah some love!

Her production crew got to work right away and they were real bossy with their shit. The show was airing live so they wanted everything to look perfect. They slapped a bunch of makeup on me and tried to mess with my hair and put it up in some old granny style, but I put the brakes on all that with a quickness. I didn't need nobody to tell me how to make my shit pop. I had danced on stage for thousands of ballers, and I knew what looked good on me and what didn't.

“Where's Viceroy?” I side-mouthed to Barron as they were telling us which chairs they wanted us to sit in.

“In the house,” he said with his mouth all stiff. “Sleeping his drunk off.”

Okrah took her seat on the couch next to Selah, and the next thing I knew it was lights, camera, and action time!

Barron sat there trying to look polished and confident in his three-piece suit as the cameraman zoomed in on him. He was a little nervous because of course this was Okrah he was talking to, but some of it was because he was unsure about the type of questions she would ask as well. Barron knew Okrah was a master at interviews and getting the most out of her guests. Some called her a blond-haired box of tissues because she was known to jerk tears out of the strongest men, but she damn sure wouldn't be getting any out of him today.

“Barron thank you for being here on the live set with us on this beautiful afternoon,” Okrah said warmly. “I understand your father is under the weather and can't join us, but I can only imagine that since coming out of his coma his health has been day-by-day to say the least. However, I'm so happy to have you as my guest, and on behalf of my entire crew I'm sending your father my prayers and well wishes.”

“Thank you, Okrah,” Barron responded, stunned by her warmth and sincerity. “My family appreciates your well wishes and we'll pass them on to my father. With love and care we're confident that he'll be back in great shape in no time.”

Of course Barron was lying his ass off, but all of America didn't need to know that the great Viceroy Dominion had locked himself in his suite and was sleeping off a liquored-up rage.

“So, Barron, you had a pair of pretty big shoes to fill after your father's tragic accident,” Okrah said. “How did you handle the pressure of suddenly being the CEO of a major company, and how well do you rank your performance?”

“Well, Okrah,” Barron responded truthfully, “I feel as though my father has been grooming me for that position since I was a small child. He taught me the ins and outs of the oil business and when he was injured I gladly accepted the challenge. Of course, I'd already studied his tactics and his moves. As an attorney I learned to be assertive and to think quickly in high-pressure situations. To be honest with you, I'm still a work in progress and my performance could have been better, but I did my best. I didn't sink the ship and I think I actually helped the company see a lot of progress in many areas.”

If they were in a studio the audience would have been clapping like crazy. Barron figured he had answered the question the way his father would have expected, and Okrah looked happy, like she appreciated his honesty.

“I'm sure your father was quite proud of you. Now tell me, Barron,” Okrah moved on. “I know it was a long time ago but take me back to that day when you were watching your little sister, Sable. It was the last time you would see her for many, many years.”

Barron thought he was prepared to the answer the question. He told himself that he would just say it was an accident and that he was young and Okrah would move on. But that's not how it turned out. Barron felt an emotional tug on his heart as he fought to keep his professional composure in front of Okrah and her cameras.

“Well, it was so long ago . . . I remember . . . I remember I was playing with my little brother Dane while my mom went into the store,” Barron said, his voice dropping lower as the memories flooded his mind. “It was hot. There were a lot of people on the streets. We had walked around for a very long time.”

The more he talked the more Barron's mind slipped further and further back to that day. His palms started to sweat and his legs began to shake as he zoned in on his past.

“I just kept playing with Dane, doing what big brothers do . . . annoying him. Then all of a sudden he got mad,” Barron said as his eyes got very wide. “He started crying and I was laughing. But then I . . . I tried to calm him down.”

It was like he was seven years old again. At that very moment Barron was right there in front of the damn drug store that haunted him for so many years. Everything seemed crystal clear to him.

“I picked Dane up and swung him around a few times,” Barron responded slowly. “Just to stop him from crying. I only took my eyes off of the stroller for a second . . . just . . . a . . . second.”

Before Barron knew it the flood-gates in his soul opened and tears started streaming down his face. His hands were clenched tightly together in sweaty fists as he remembered the pain on his mother's face when she came back out the store and realized Sable was gone.

“Do you think you should have been more careful, Barron?” Okrah asked. “Do you believe that had you been more attentive that you could have prevented what happened to your sister?”

“Yes . . . I should have been more aware,” Barron said as anger rose in him and joined his sorrow. He was fighting back hoarse sobs as his plan to stay even-keeled went out the window. “I . . . turned around and . . . I saw the stroller rocking. For a second I thought Sable had jumped out. It was like a dark shadow had swooped down . . . and . . . snatched my sister away from us . . . and it was all my fault.”

And then he broke down completely. The pain he had buried for so long and the barriers he had built around those emotions had finally collapsed. Barron was truly a mama's boy and he felt responsible for his mother's pain as well. She had never given up on the search for Sable and he felt real guilty for trying to convince her for years that her little girl was dead.

“I-I-I,” he started.

Selah threw up her hand. “No, baby! That's enough!” She got up and sat beside him, pulling her oldest child into her arms. “It was not your fault, Barron! You were too young to be watching anybody. Everything that happened that day was my fault. I was the adult. I was the mother. I neglected all of you that day. I'm the only one responsible, so I need you to let that pain go. Right now. Let it all go, Barron, you hear me? You don't have to live with that burden anymore! It's not yours to carry.”

Mink couldn't help the feeling that ripped through her gut. She didn't really fuck with Barron like that. He had been real shitty to her when she first came to Texas. But seeing his pain up close finally made her understand what Sable had meant to him and how much of the blame he placed upon his own young shoulders for her abduction. Tears welled up in Mink's eyes and she threw her arm around Barron as well.

“It's okay, Bump,” she said as she hugged her brother. “You don't have to blame yourself anymore. I'm back now and I'm not going anywhere. What happened back then is over. The important thing is that we're all together now. That's all that matters. It's all good now big brother.”

Okrah beamed. She knew her audiences at home were giving her guests a standing ovation as they saw a well-to-do family finally putting their demons to rest. What had just happened live on her show proved that no matter how much money you had, life could get real. The pure emotions had cast the Dominions in a good light instead of making them appear to be uppity tight-ass black folks. As a hostess she was well pleased. It was a powerful moment for the family and excellent ratings for television.