Soul (21 page)

The girls arrive in one long limo. Bree steps out, her petite little body back in perfect shape. She steps aside and her little mini-Bree they named Dannica toddles out. At three years old, she already has hair down to her shoulders, and it’s the color of spun gold. Her blue eyes are soulful and happy. Her little legs bring her to me fast, and I lift her into my arms and hug her tight. “How’s my precious girl?”

“Ire Land is forever away. That plane never stopped.” Well it obviously did, but in her three-year-old mind it took a very long time.

“I know precious, but Rebecca has treats waiting for you. She runs off into the house. It’s not her first time here, our families have come here three and four times a year since we had the children. It’s been a wonderful home away from home for all of us.

Bree embraces me, pulls back and looks at me. “You’re glowing.” She squints and her lips twist into a pretty pout. “Shit. Again?” She shakes her head. “Just when you got that fine body back.” She clucks her tongue. “How far?”

“Just found out for sure today.” I watch as Phillip shuffles out of the limo.

“Crazy girl. I’m never having any more. My body is my temple and after pushing out God’s most perfect child, I am not risking a demon spawn. Besides, we have Anabelle too, so technically, I have two.”

“Whatever. Rebecca has food out on the patio ready to go. She included all the healthy, organic shit you like too.”

“Excellent!” she smiles and heads into the house. Phillip gives me a teddy bear hug. “I need a beer.” His face looks tired, and I know that look. It’s the same one I have after a twelve-hour flight with my children.

“Where’s Anabelle?” I look around and find her hiding behind her Dad.

“Boo!” She screams so I act frightened. Then I hunker down and hug her little body to mine. Her bright blond hair smells exactly like Bree’s. It’s refreshing and reminds me of the yoga studio.

After hugs from the Parks family, I turn back to see Maria stepping one long dancer’s leg out of the limo. Damn, that girl has a great pair of legs. “
Cara Bonita
, that is one long flight.” She says this every time. “But thanks for flying us in one of the Davis jets. They treat us like royalty
mi amiga
,” she says happily pulling me into her arms. Directly behind her is a giant of a man. Massive with eyes so familiar I gasp. Every time I see him it takes me back there. Back to three years ago when we lost Tommy. It’s hard to look into his face without remembering.

Chase places a hand to my shoulder and brings me into his arms when Maria locks one around her beau. I don’t judge, I never have, and she’s finally happier than she’s ever been, and it took a really long three years to get to this point.

“Go on in. Soup’s on,” Chase says and the two locked at the waist enter our home. I shiver against Chase. “It’s okay. I know you miss Thomas. It’s hard for me to see her with him too. It will get easier. Just takes time.”

“Three years is a long time.” I remind my husband.

“But it hasn’t been that long seeing them as a couple.”

“True.”

“Speaking of couples, I wish Carson were here.”

“Me too, babe, me too, but we can’t get involved. It’s her life. We just need to love and support her the way only you and your girls can. I’m here for backup,” Chase whispers in my ear as Kat walks up the path alone.

She’s wearing a long sleeved shirt in the dead of summer and seeing it hurts my heart. I’m sure she’s dying of heat, but she refuses to show her scars. Says she gets too many questions or grossed out looks. As it is, she keeps her hand tight to her body so people don’t comment on the mangled tissue. When it’s just us girls she’ll remove her sweaters or allow the skin to be visible. It’s not pretty, but the last reconstruction made her neck smooth as well as down her side. Her arm still looks like skin was wrapped around an abraded surface, so it’s bumpy, different colors, blotchy, the skin pulled tight in some places, and loose in others. The surgeons have done what they can but she’ll live most her life with a deformed looking arm. She can now grip things in her hand but nothing with substantial weight.

Finally, she reaches me and I lock my arms around her. She’s like sunshine and love rolled into one, but a sadness fills her. One so deep we’ve tried for the last three years to heal it, but it hasn’t left her. I know only one person who can fix her, but he’s tried over and over, still, she refuses to let him back in. I fear he’ll move on. No man is that strong to be turned down for three years and continue waiting. Last I heard he was finally dating someone else. It nearly broke her.

Now she seems okay. Every time we’re in Bantry it’s as if the entire crew can breathe again.

I lock my arm around her waist and lead her to the patio. We all sit down and drinks are passed around, food is hefted onto plates, and the four children run around at the landing below the first deck. Chase had Colin put up a small fence so the kids wouldn’t run off toward the ocean cliffs. We also added a swing set and toys to keep them occupied.

Once everyone’s sitting, Chase brings out two bottles of pink champagne. The same we drank on our wedding night, here in Bantry, three years ago today. Once all the glasses are poured, he grabs my hand and walks me to the edge of the table where all eyes are on us.

“Three years ago today, my wife and I eloped. At the time, it was what we needed to do to be together. Though we wish you could have all been there, you were definitely there with us in spirit.

“I’d like to start the next two weeks of celebration by reminding my wife of the promise I made to her three years ago today.” Chase picks up my hands turns me to look into my eyes. “Gillian Grace Davis, I promise to love, cherish, and worship the ground you walk on every day of my life. I’ll strive every day to be the man who’s good enough for a woman like you.” Just like when he said these words to me three ago, my eyes fill with tears. He smiles wide when he sees them fall. “When you cry,” he moves forward and kisses each cheek, “I’ll kiss away your tears. When you love, I’ll love you in return. I will never forsake you, and I’ll always make you and our children…” He looks over his shoulder at Claire and Carter running around with Anabelle and Dannica, then he puts a hand over my stomach, half of the table gasps, our secret fully out, he grins. “I’ll always make you and our children” he repeats, “priority number one. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives as one whole family. Three years ago I found my other half. Through infinity.”

I look deep into his Caribbean blue eyes so he can see how much he means, how important this moment is surrounded by the people we love, the family we choose, our children, and a baby on the way. “Infinity,” I repeat and then kiss him. When he pulls away I whisper the words I said to him and meant with my whole heart. “Chase William Davis,” he holds my gaze and I see the moisture there, the same way I did on our wedding day. Then I say the exact words he wants to hear. “I give you me.”

“Body. Mind. Soul.”

T
he End
.

I
want
to thank you for taking this journey with me. Sometimes it was gut-wrenching, other times, filled with laughter, a lot of heat, and mostly heaping bouts of love.

My mother was a victim of domestic for ten years. In the Trinity Trilogy I wanted to bring light to a very difficult subject but also to show that with the right support, women who have been in a violent relationship can make it through that time in their lives and come out strong to live healthy beautiful, fulfilling lives. Of course I’ve taken liberties with the rich billionaire but that part is fiction.

If you are a woman being emotionally or physically abused, I encourage you to seek help. Tell a friend, call a battered woman’s shelter, or a domestic violence hotline. If you type the words “DOMESTIC VIOLENCE HOTLINE” into your internet browser you will be given a wide variety of options to call and get immediate help in your area.
Taking that first step is the hardest.
Women everywhere are silently saluting you on making the first move. If you close your eyes and try really hard…you can feel us. Solidarity.

For the rest of the readers that were unhappy with Thomas Redding losing his life, for Maria losing her man, there is a plan for her and a book with her story in it coming. Same for Kathleen and her time with Carson and her experiencing recovering from her injuries. I promise…they will eventually get their happily ever after. For now though, I need to take a little time to write something less soul altering.

Thanks again for being with me.

Namaste.

Audrey

“
M
ia
! My sweet baby girl,” said my aunt as she wrapped her bone-thin arms around me, crushing me to her chest. She was strong for such a slight woman. Her black hair was pinned up into an elegant French twist. She had on a white blouse that was soft as silk, probably because it was silk. It was tucked into a fierce black leather pencil skirt, paired with sky-high stilettos that sported that red sole I’d heard so much about when randomly flipping through the latest Vogue. She looked beautiful. More than that, she looked
expensive
.

“Aunt Millie, it’s so good to see you,” I started to say when two fingers with long nails capped in blood red nail polish shushed me.

She tsked her tongue, “Ah ah, here you will call me Ms. Milan.” I rolled my eyes for dramatic effect. She narrowed hers in return. “Doll-face, first off, don’t roll your eyes. It’s rude and unladylike.” Her lips pinched into a tight line. “Second of all...” She walked around my form assessing me as if I was a piece of art, a statue. Something cold and impenetrable. Maybe I was. In her hand, she held a black lace fan that she opened and closed then flicked against her open palm during her perusal. “...never call me Millie. That woman is long gone, died when the first man I ever trusted fried up my heart and fed it to his dogs.” Such a vile image, but Aunt Millie was nothing if not honest.

“Chin up.” She smacked the underside of my chin forcing an immediate adjustment. Then she did the same to the bare patch of sensitive skin at the base of my spine where my tight concert t-shirt didn’t quite meet the painted-on jeans I adored. Instantly, I straightened my spine, thrusting my chest out. Her red-lipped smile widened showing perfectly bleached, straight teeth. The teeth were the nicest money could buy and a regular expense for the rich girls here in Los Angeles. I couldn’t spit five feet without hitting someone who sees their dentist more than is medically necessary, but just barely less than they see their dermatologist for their monthly Botox injections. Aunt Millie was obviously a regular paying customer at veneers-R-us. Still, as she kissed the edge of fifty, she definitely had it going on.

“Well, you’re definitely gorgeous. More so once we get you into something presentable and take your test shots.” Her face twitched into a grimace as she took in my very biker-on-the-go threads.

I stepped back and banged into a leather chair not far behind me. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

Millie’s eyes narrowed into a point. “Did you not say that you needed a lot of money and fast? Something about my no good brother-in-law being in the hospital? In trouble?” She sat down slowly, crossed her legs, and laid both arms delicately on the white leather arms of the chair. Aunt Millie never liked my father. Which was unfortunate because he did the best he could as a single dad, especially when her sister, my mother, abandoned her two daughters. I was ten years old at the time. Madison was five and, to this day, doesn’t have even one tiny memory of our mother to hold onto to.

I bit my lip and looked into her pale green eyes. We looked so much alike. Aside from all the little nips and tucks she’d had, it was like looking into a mirror twenty-five years from now. Her eyes were the same light green, almost yellow, that I’d had people rave about my entire life. Green amethyst they’d say. Like looking into a rare green diamond. Our hair was exactly the same shade of jet black, so much so, that when the light hit it, you’d swear it was midnight blue.

Adjusting my shoulders against the uncomfortable chair, I took a breath. “Yeah, Dad’s got himself in big this time with Blaine.” Millie closed her eyes and shook her head. I bit my lip, the memory of my father pale and gaunt, bruises covering every inch of his body as he lay lifeless in the hospital. “He’s in a coma right now. Four weeks ago they beat him pretty bad. He still hasn’t woken up. The doctors think it could be the trauma in his brain, but we won’t know for a while. A lot of his bones were broken. He’s still in a body cast,” I finished.

“Jesus Christ. Savages,” she whispered and slid a hand up to her hair sweeping back a strand around her ear silently composing herself. I’d seen her do this before. Millie was a master manipulator and could control her emotions better than anyone I’d ever known. I coveted that talent. Needed it.

“Yeah. And last week when I was holding vigil at Dad’s bed, one of Blaine’s goons came to see me. Said, this was it for Dad. If they didn’t get their money
with
interest, they were going to kill him. Then they’d come after me and Maddy for the money. They called it “survivor’s debt.” Whatever that is. Either way, I have to come up with a million dollars and fast.”

Aunt Millie pinched her lips together and flicked her first nail against her thumb over and over again. The incessant ticking almost made me lose my shit. How could she be so calm, so callous? A man’s life, my life, and the life of my baby sister hung in the balance. She didn’t care for Dad, but she’d always had a soft spot for me and my sister.

Millie’s eyes shot to mine, fierce and sparkling with an unknown excitement. “It can be done, in a year. Do you think they’d give you a year if you made payments?” Her eyebrow came into a point as she focused her full attention on me.

The hairs on my arms started to rise, and I jutted my shoulders back in defense. I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m sure Blaine wants his money, and since we had a thing a while ago, I could probably plead. That sick, sadistic fucker always liked me down on my knees begging.”

“Keep your sexual escapades to yourself, doll-face,” she grinned wickedly. “Looks like we’ll just have to put you to work right away. Top dollar accounts only. We need to move up everything. I’m going to need you here first thing tomorrow morning for the photo shoot. It will be an all-day event. We’ll shoot stills, some video, etc. I’ll have my guys get them up on the secure site by the following day.”

It was all happening so fast. The words “
It can be done”
rang through my ears like a life line, a raft out in open water surrounded by sharks, but still afloat.

“But do I have to sleep with them? I mean I know there’s different kinds of escorts.” I closed my eyes waiting until I felt something warm clasp my hand. She had covered both of mine with hers.

“Doll-face, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But in order to make that kind of money, you ought to consider it. My clients and I have an unwritten agreement, if you will. My girls sleep with them, and they add twenty percent to their fee. That twenty percent is left in cash, in an envelope in my girl’s room. None of that is exchanged with me or my service, as prostitution is illegal in California.” Millie touched her chin with her index finger. “But my girls should get more for the convenience, don’t you think?” She winked. I nodded lamely, not knowing what to think but going along with it anyway.

“I’m going to book you by the month. It’s the only way to make a six figure paycheck each month.” Her pale green eyes looked bright. So much so that I almost believed this could be easy if I just had an open mind. “You’ll be flown wherever the man is, and be whatever he needs for that month. However, I do not sell sex. If you sleep with them, it’s because you want to, although when you see some of the men I have on a waiting list, you’ll think twice about not hopping into the sack, not to mention the extra payout.” She grinned and then stood. She walked around her glass desk, sat down, then turned to her computer silently dismissing me. I felt stuck to the leather seat incapable of moving. Thoughts of how the hell I’d make this work swirled like vicious vultures through my mind, hunting and pecking at my morals one by one as if they were living prey available for the taking.

“I’ll do it,” I heard myself whisper.

“Of course you will.” She looked at me over her computer. Her lips turned into a crooked grin. “You haven’t any other option if you want to save your father.”

T
he next day
was a whirlwind of activity. I felt like Sandra Bullock’s character in
Miss Congeniality
. I’d been prodded at, scrubbed, plucked, and waxed to within an inch of my life. I felt like a human pin cushion and almost ended up punching out the beauty consultant Millie hired to “fix” me. Her words, not mine. I couldn’t deny the proof was in the pudding. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back. My long black hair was shinier than ever, falling into perfect waves down my back and over my shoulders. Everywhere the light touched my skin, a shimmer effect twinkled back. The normal sun-kissed tanned look that I’d worked on for weeks in the California sun now shone like a fine honey, really highlighting all of my best features. The dress she had me in was lavender, comfortable and slinky. Fitting perfectly along each rounded curve and toned edge giving it the desired effect. Sexy and sleek. I looked like a dark angel as the photographer set me on a cold white marble bench. He moved me this way and that, and before long, I actually got the hang of pouting prettily and staring blankly off into the distance devoid of emotion. That’s what I had to be now. Emotionless.

Once we were finished, and I’d redressed into my street clothes, which always consisted of jeans and a tight tee, I made my way back to Millie, or
Ms. Milan’s
, office.

“Doll-face, these shots are magnificent! I always knew you’d be perfect for modeling.” She clicked at her computer as I walked around and glanced at what she was seeing. All the air left my lungs as I took in the image of myself the photographer had taken.

“Amazing.” I lost my words for a moment. “I can’t believe that’s me.” I shook my head as one image after another loaded up to the Exquisite Escorts website. If I didn’t know for a fact that was me, I’d never believe it.

A slow smile slipped across my aunt’s lips. “You’re very beautiful.” Her light-eyed gaze caught mine. “You look so much like…“

“Whatever.” I shook my head and leaned a hip on her glass desk not wanting to hear how much she thought I looked like mother. “What next?” I asked while crossing my arms over my chest feeling a strange desire to protect myself against whatever was going to happen next.

She leaned back into her black leather chair, her eyes twinkling. “Want to see your first assignment?”

A slow sense of dread crept up my spine, but I stiffened my shoulders and looked at her with a bland expression. “Game on.”

Millie chuckled then clicked a few times into her internet browser bringing up an image of one of the most excruciatingly gorgeous men I’d ever seen. There was nothing that could take away from this man’s stunning good looks. Even in the overtly corporate headshot his dirty blond hair, green eyes, and chiseled jaw were something to write home about. His hair was long, layered, and had that messy, yet perfectly styled, appearance that was all the rage right now. Something didn’t add up. The man couldn’t be more than thirty. Plus, he was not the type of guy who would need to hire a date. He looked like the type of man women fell all over themselves and became brainless husks of lust for.

“I don’t get it. Why would he”—I pointed at the smiling good looking man in the picture—“need a date?”

My aunt leaned back, clasped her hands over her lap and smiled. “He chose you.”

I know I must have looked confused because she hurriedly continued. “I personally sent the first few test shots over to him and his mother. I work a lot with his mother. Anyway, he agreed to the match. He’ll send a car for you tomorrow morning. He’s in the area, but you still have to stay at his residence for the next twenty-four days.”

It’s possible my head had been hit by an imaginary baseball bat it shot back so fast. “Twenty-four days! Are you insane? How the hell am I going to take jobs or show up for auditions?” My acting career wasn’t much, but I did have a low-rent agent that sent me out on a few jobs here and there. And there was the restaurant I worked at in the evening.

Millie looked at me as if I had dared to grow a second head. Her lips compressed into a thin line, and her nose crunched up unattractively. “Mia, you will quit all your jobs for at least a year. You are now a paid employee of Exquisite Escorts. Your assignments will run from one to twenty-four days depending on the client’s needs. Since
you
need to make a lot of cash in a short amount of time, you need to take the bigger jobs. After the twenty-four days, you will have the remaining days in the month at home to relax, recoup, and repair any beauty needs. At the turn of each month on the calendar, you will be reassigned a new date.”

“I can’t believe this!” I started pacing her office, suddenly feeling like a caged animal needing to break free. It just dawned on me that my life as I knew it was over. There was no more going out on normal dates—not that I’d had any recently. No more auditions, making my fledgling acting career a distant memory, and there would be little to no time to see Dad, Maddy, or Ginelle.

“Believe it little girl. This is not a joke. What your father, what your ex-boyfriend is doing has made this decision. You’re lucky I’m even making room for you. Don’t be an ingrate. Now sit down and shut up!” Her voice was completely devoid of its usual warmth having morphed into the cold, formal tone of a determined businesswoman.

“I’m sorry.” She was trying to help me, but this was all so…sudden. Unbelievable. I slumped into the chair in front of her desk and let my head fall into my hands. Shaking it repeatedly did not change the outcome. I was now a girl for hire. Each month I’d be assigned a new man, and if I slept with them, I’d make twenty percent more in cash.

I shook my head and laughed. The kind that proved I was bat-shit crazy. I leaned my head back onto the cool leather and looked up at the white ceiling. After a moment, a creeping resolve calmed me. This is what I had to do. So I let a sexy guy take me to boring business dinners and whatever else he had in mind. I didn’t have to sleep with them and, most importantly, there was no way I would fall in love. A new man each month wasn’t enough time to fall head over heels like I had in the past. Who says I have to give up my acting career? What better way to perfect my acting skill than by being whatever these men wanted me to be? Then, after the month was up, I’d be someone else and my dad would be safe. As long as I could get Blaine to agree to monthly payments, this could work.