The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2) (5 page)

Since we were teenagers, birthdays and small victories were celebrated at a lounge, hotel ballroom, or in rare circumstances, a nightclub. This time, the atmosphere was very low-key.

“Did you all keep the party toned down for me?” Taking in the appearance of my friends, together for the first time in many years, I felt suddenly sentimental.

Brandy and I had been friends the longest. Her mother, Veronica, and my mother were the best of friends. We were destined to be good friends through the thick of it since we were born. She was a gorgeous woman who was often scouted everywhere she went. Her fine, sharp features, dark jade almond-shaped eyes, statement ‘80s brows, and lightly tousled dark brown hair were all a part of her signature and distinct look. She lived for fashion and was a bit of a brand enthusiast. I remember many of the fashions shows I was dragged to, to support her addiction. Her father disappeared when she was eight, leaving her and Veronica with quite a substantial amount of money. Neither Veronica nor Brandy had to work to maintain their lifestyle, and so they didn’t. At current, Veronica kept busy with my mother’s campaign.

“We…didn’t think you could handle it.” Brandy rose and gave me a big hug. 

Sonja, visibly pregnant, followed soon after.

Sonja epitomized boho chic, and she was the calmest one of us all. Her motto was “no muss no fuss” and it showed in her appearance, personal style, and mannerisms. Her dark brown skin glowed with an ethereal luminance. The corners of her dark brown eyes wrinkled in time with her grin. 

I fingered her closely cropped, dark, tightly coiled hair and noted her second, visible change. “Congratulations,” I said, rubbing her belly. 

“Can you believe it? Never thought I’d be a mother.” Sonja arched her back, making her belly protrude a bit more. “Things change.”

We collectively situated ourselves on various pieces of furniture in the sitting room. A cutting silence passed between us. Brandy’s bright pink lip-stained mouth continuously opened as though she had many things to say, but wouldn’t allow herself to say them. Her attention quickly darted to Nathan. “Nathan, long time no see. Are you still asexual?”

“Very smooth segue,” Nathan remarked, his eyes swirling in their sockets. “Yes, I’m still lacking in the needs you used to make fun of me about.”

“Could never understand. Still can’t.” Brandy waved him off, suddenly disinterested. “You’re not invited to the sex party I’m having soon, either.”

 Sonja reclined back, appearing more relaxed than anyone else in the room. “Play nicely in your corners, everyone.”

“I swear you’re having a sex party to spite me,” Nathan snapped at Brandy. “You won’t see Keaton there, either.”

“She might be convinced,” Brandy retorted. “So…Veronica is your mother’s campaign manager now. Cool, huh?” Although she addressed me, she couldn’t maintain eye contact. When speaking of her mother, neither she nor anyone else was allowed to refer to her mother as “mom,” or any other derivative in public.

“Sherilynn announced her run a few days ago,” Nathan recounted, ignoring Brandy and regarding me, “and I’ve noticed the incumbent is already starting up a smear campaign.”

Brandy slapped at the air and shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

There was a raucous buzz surrounding my mother’s not yet official announcement to run for the senate seat. The gossip and mud slinging toward my mother was inescapable. Her battle to win would be a steep incline inundated with several obstacles. I supported her fully and knew very little stood in the way of what my mother could achieve. 

“Why not?” I asked Brandy about her comment not to worry. “The last my mother said, she was working on a strategy with Veronica about how to combat it. I didn’t know they agreed on something that would be effective yet.”

Brandy rolled her shoulders dramatically. “And they have. Veronica said she has some ace in the hole. I thought I heard her talking about some bleeding heart philanthropist who was helping your mother with her campaign. Seems he’s got a lot of the media under his influence. He’s going to crush the fucker who is putting dirt on your mother’s name. Veronica seems pretty sure about him. If she’s sure, he must be a pretty kickass asset.”

Sonja took a break from rubbing her belly to adjust a pillow behind her back. “Philanthropist? Is he new to the area? I might know him. Who is he?”

Noticing Sonja’s troubles with getting comfortable, I rushed to her side to help her. She gave me an appreciative smile as I decided to remain seated next to her.

“Brandon… Braycen—”

“Braedan Michaels?” Sonja interjected Brandy’s failure to recall the man’s name. Her eyes sparked with recognition.

Brandy’s mouth twisted up, unassured. 

“How do you know Braedan, and”—I touched Sonja’s belly—“how far along are you? Who’s the lucky guy? Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”

She gave me a proud grin. “Five months. I look huge, don’t I? You would swear I was having twins. You’ll meet the new man in my life very soon. We are having a naming ceremony—the gender will be a secret.” She cocked her head, making her large cloth hoop earrings swing behind her shoulder. “I’ve met Braedan. He occasionally lends a hand to the homeless shelter where I volunteer on the weekends. I’ve spoken to him a few times. He has quite a few charities and is very passionate about solving the homeless problem in D.C. He is a very, very nice man.”

“Is he hot?” Brandy sat upright and patted her lap in impatience. “Is he single if he is?”

Sonja looked alertly at Brandy. “You know I don’t look at those things. It’s who a person is that determines what they look like. In my definition, he’s a beautiful man.”

Brandy rolled her eyes. “And in my definition, is he hot?”

Sonja hesitated. With a grin, she nodded at Brandy. “He’s very hot, if you need to know. I don’t think you two would hit it off. He’s too…altruistic and mild-mannered for you.”

“You volunteer at a homeless shelter?” I questioned, keeping my grin steadily on my face. 

While Sonja took up many charitable causes, her passion had always been children. She used to offer free classes for children at her yoga studio and was a mentor to at-risk youth. 

“When did you start volunteering?” I queried. “Do you still have the yoga studio?”

Giving me a prideful nod, Sonja beamed. “I do.”

The air turned thicker as we all seemingly noticed how Sonja dodged my question. 

“Last August,” she blurted out forcefully.

“Oh,” I said quietly and looked at my hands. “I’d love to come down and help, if you could use a hand.”

“Sure. We could always use the help. I’ll text you the information.” 

They all gave me strained grins, staring at me in expectation. I wanted to give them all what they wanted, but I couldn’t read their minds. I wished I could magically make the awkward moments between us disappear, and we would return to the friendships we once had.

“Can we get to the gifts?” Brandy clapped her hands and excitedly pointed to the gift bags and wrapped presents in the corner of the living room. “This is my birthday and it’s turning out to be the most somber birthday ever.” 

After sorting through most of her gifts, Brandy reached for the present I brought her.

The look on Brandy’s face once she had opened it said it all. I gave her a scrapbook full of photographs detailing the important moments of twenty-five years of her life.

“Veronica gave me a few of the pictures to complete my collection,” I explained. “I was going through pictures in my old yearbook and got the idea to give this to you. She gave me a few pictures to copy and place inside your book. I thought it was a good idea because…” I maintained my geniality despite the deflated look on Brandy’s face. I decided against explaining any further.

Brandy put her hand on her hip and looked mildly offended. “Is this your passive aggressive way of judging me for not keeping in touch when you went off to Georgetown?” 

“No.” I swayed my hand back and forth in my lap and vehemently shook my head. “Not at all.”

Her iron facade suddenly cracked and she laughed. “Take a joke, Keaton. It’s…” Having trouble looking at me, she thumbed the corner of the book for a while. “…nice.”

“If you don’t like it, I can—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Placing it on the table, she flashed one of her signature grins at me; it was the grin she wore when she had to deal with an unpleasant situation but wanted to keep up appearances. “I won’t let this affect the plans I have for your birthday. We all know you’re going through something.”

“Brandy,” Sonja hissed, reprimanding her in a way she never usually would.

“Are you…upset with me?” I asked Brandy.

“Not at all, Keaton,” she said through her teeth. “Well…” She turned to her next gift. Shortly after opening it and discovering the watch Veronica purchased for her, she proceeded to dramatically fawn over it.

The pain I pretended wasn’t there began to impede on my ability to remain seated on the overstuffed leather couch. I excused myself and went to the kitchen.

The staff buzzed around me, either pretending I was invisible, or gave me a polite smile when I said hello.

“You’ve been making faces all night.” Nathan entered the kitchen while looking skeptically at the kitchen staff. “Honestly, why did she need hired help for a dinner party of four? She hasn’t grown out of the mean girl she was in high school.”

“When Brandy is upset with me she reverts to the girl she used to be, the one who used to torment you.” And I tried numerous times, unsuccessfully, to make her leave Nathan alone. She would play nice when I was around. Nathan told me later that she put on a show for me. My friendship with Nathan became the first splinter in my friendship with Brandy. 

“Mad at you about what? Is she still upset she didn’t get into Georgetown with you? No one could blame you for losing contact with her when you went to school.”

I shook my head. “She got over that really quickly. It’s something else, and I have no idea…” I turned a little too quickly and couldn’t hide the involuntary wince that appeared on my face.  

“I knew there was something up with you.” He circled his finger toward my face. “I didn’t want to ask this with an audience. Is it cramps?” 

I nodded my head at him, falsely indicating the source of my pain.

He fumbled around the kitchen and found Brandy’s ceramic cookie jar. He reached inside and retrieved a Ziploc baggie containing Brandy’s stash. “Some things will never change.” He moved to put it back.

“I think I could use that.”

“I think it’s Oxy. It’s too strong and habit-forming.”

“I will only take half of one.” When he narrowed his eyes at me, his mouth forming the word no, I added, “It’s for more than cramps.” 

He examined the bag with skepticism for a few seconds. Reluctantly, he handed the bag to me. 

I retrieved one pill and swallowed it down with an untouched glass of water from a silver serving tray. The remainder of the pills were slipped into my clutch when Nathan’s gaze darted elsewhere.

“Are you bringing Noah to Sonja’s dinner tomorrow night? She’s having a get-together with some of our friends”—he used air quotes at the mention of the word friends, possibly exemplifying that Brandy wasn’t invited, because she was truly only my friend—“to celebrate our homecoming.”

“I don’t think he can make it.” My statement surged with an apology.

“Keaton,” he groaned. “We want to meet the man who saved your life.”

Word traveled quite quickly in our small circle. I had only told my parents the lie about how I met Noah. Somehow, it was evident that everyone who knew me, or of me, knew the story about Noah.

“I’ll ask,” I told Nathan, having the firm notion that Noah would say no. I didn’t want to let Nathan down. “Can you apologize to Sonja and Brandy for me? I’m not feeling very well.”

“Of course. Do you want me to call you cab?”

“No. I’m okay to drive.” I gave him a strained smile and a half-hearted hug. I was in far too much pain for anything more substantial. 

I snuck into the living room unnoticed and tucked my coat over my arm. I said goodbye to my friends, loud enough for them to hear me, but I was mostly ignored. 

Brandy gave me a short wave. My scrapbook remained on the floor underneath her feet.

MY PHONE RANG THE instant I placed it on my nightstand beside the bed. I had plans to lie down after the Oxy made me drowsy. When I saw that it was my mother, I put my nap on hold for a few minutes longer.

“Mom?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea why you and Noah haven’t invited your father and me over to your new place for a visit. We have to network for my campaign and maintain appearances, Keaton.”

“I’m not feeling too well today,” I whispered.

“I can tell in your voice that you’re not right. I’m coming over. You’re not…pregnant, are you? Cheese and crackers, when is that man going to make an honest woman of you? It looks uncouth to have you two living together without at least the promise of marriage.”

“I took some pain pills and they are making me really drowsy, can I call you back later?”

“It can wait until tomorrow,” she assured me. “Get some rest, baby girl.”