Unwanted Stars (25 page)

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Authors: Melissa Brown

BOOK: Unwanted Stars
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"Yessss. Oh my god, Cam," I said into the mirror, my breath clouding the glass.

"God, Auden, you feel amazing," he said as he continued to pump behind me. Thank God, I was good in heels or I would've fallen on my face as he pressed me into the glass again and again.

"Let's come together. Come with me."

"Oh my Godddddd," I moaned, gritting my teeth as he pushed me over the edge. I felt myself coming apart at the seams, hoping to God no other members of the family had come home as my orgasm consumed me.

Campbell thrust one more time, growling into my back, breathing heavily on the cool sweat of my skin. We stood there, pressed together against the glass, holding each other until our breathing slowed.

Campbell withdrew, tossed the condom into the trash can, and scooped me up in his arms.

"I kept my promise," he said.

"What?" I asked, my brain fuzzy. I couldn't remember his promise.

"No Pam Anderson." He stood in the middle of the room, my feet dangling from his forearms, my arms wrapped around his neck.

I couldn't contain my laughter. I broke out into hysterics as he cradled me in his arms. My laughter was infectious, and within seconds we collapsed to the floor in laughter.

"God, I love you," I said, placing a tiny kiss on his nose.

"Words will never express how I feel for you, Auden. Ever."

"Should we get ready for bed now?"

"Yeah, you get washed up and I'll make sure Pam finds her way to the rubbish bin."

"You're the best," I said, giving him one final peck on the lips before hopping to my feet and changing into my pajamas.

Peeking my head out of his bedroom door, I was greeted with the absolute ecstasy of complete silence in the house. No lights had been turned on, no whispers were to be heard. We'd successfully had time all to ourselves, and what a time it was...

Just as we had the night before, we fell asleep snuggled together on that lumpy twin mattress, Campbell humming Elton John and me wondering if my life could get any more perfect than it was at that very moment.

It's funny how the tiniest of things can change your life: an invitation, a simple kiss goodnight, a matchbook...

For me though, it was a shade of lipstick. A simple shade of lip color that had arrived in the mail weeks ago. I was wearing it today, in fact, which made things all the more ironic. I was wearing it when she showed up at my door and ripped my life apart.

The day started so simply. Campbell and I slept late, made love, drank coffee, made love again. It was blissful and relaxed. It was the perfect morning. And then...

"I have some errands to run. Want to come with me?" I asked, lying on top of Campbell's chest, stroking his pecs with my fingertips.

"You know how much I love shopping."

"I do.” I snickered. "Pleeeeease?"

I licked and sucked at the skin of his neck.

"You make it hard to say no," he said.

"That's the idea. Did it work?"

"Yeah, it did. Give me ten. I need to shower."

"Hurry up. I already used the hot water. It won't last long."

"Ugh, I know. Remind me again why we don't stay at my place."

"Good question."

One last peck on the lips and I jumped off the bed, landing on my feet. I walked to my mirror, touching up my makeup, dabbing color on my lips and blusher on my cheeks.

Knock, knock, knock.

Without giving it much thought, I walked to the front door and looked through the peephole to see a slightly familiar face. A gorgeous face that I couldn't quite place in my mind. She looked upset though, so I opened the door, wondering if maybe she needed help.

When we were face to face, I realized exactly how I knew this woman. She was the makeup artist at Harrods. The one who gave me a makeover. The one I clicked with instantly. The one who offered to ship me my lipstick shade when it arrived. She had done that, but now she was here.

Why was she here?

The water ran in the background as I greeted her with confusion in my eyes.

"Um, hello...Talia, right?"

She looked at me with fear in her eyes. Her eyebrows were narrowed and she trembled under her spring trench coat. Unlike the day we met, her hair was down and curly, much like my own. No french twist, no fancy makeup, but she was still beautiful.

"Tabitha," she said, her voice cracking as her arms wrapped around her chest. "I-I'm sorry to disturb."

"That's okay," I said. "I got the lipstick. Thanks for taking care of that."

"Oh, um, you're welcome."

We stood in silence. The awkward tension that hovered between us was confusing. Several times, she opened her mouth to speak but said nothing, returning to her pained expression. Returned to drumming her fingertips against her arms.

"I had to speak to you," she finally said.

"Okay," I said, scrunching my eyebrows and forehead in complete confusion.

"There's um...there's something you need to know."

I had no idea what she could possibly have to say. Until I heard the water run.

Campbell. Oh my god. Was she the reason we didn't stay at his place? Did she know him? Did she know him intimately? Why else would this random woman be showing up at my door? Was this the reason he didn't come to Harrods with me?

My world was spinning. My thoughts were turning over and over again like a hamster on a wheel.

"Is this-is this about Campbell?" I asked, daggers in my eyes, my chest heaving.

"Um, I…uh," she said, stumbling.

"Oh my god," I said, pulling at the ends of my hair. How stupid could I have been?

"No, no," she said, touching my elbow softly. "I don't know anyone by that name."

"Oh," I said, even more confused. "Then please fill me in because my head is swimming right now. I know we met, but I have
no
clue why you're here. At my
home
."

"I-I'm family," she simply said.

"All right. Care to elaborate?" I asked, my hands moving to cross in front of my chest. The irritation in my voice was unmistakable. I was pissed at her for being so cryptic, pissed at myself for doubting Campbell so easily, pissed at this stranger who claimed to somehow be related to me.

"I mean," I said, "couldn't you have just gotten in touch with me through a common relative? My nan, Gemma Wells. Do you know her?"

"Yes, I know your nan."

"Okay, so what's the deal? You recognized my name when I was at the store. I remember you commenting on it," I said, trying to break the tension, trying to figure out why this was such a big freaking deal.

"Yes."

Another long pause before she broke the silence.

"I gave you that name."

My head felt like it was going to explode.

"I'm sorry,
what
?"

"I named you Auden."

"You're not making any sense whatsoever. My parents named me."

"Your
mother
named you."

I stared into her eyes. Eyes that looked just like my own. High cheekbones that resembled mine. Spiral curls that spilled down her shoulders.

“What?”

“I’m your mother, Auden.”

No, no, no, no.

"My
mother
? That's insane."

"I know it sounds crazy. But plea—"

"Crazy doesn't even begin to describe it! Fucked up, ludicrous, ridiculous, absolutely un-fucking-believable—"

"I can explain," she said, stepping closer to me. I recoiled as if she was breathing fire. I didn't want her near me, I didn't want her to touch me. I didn't want to hear anything she was saying.

"Auden?" Campbell's voice came from the hallway. "Everything alright?"

"No," I said, glaring at Tabitha. "Call the police."

"Auden, please!" Tabitha begged.

"Call the police. Now."

He grabbed his cell but looked at me for an answer. "I don't understand. Tell me what's going on."

He stepped between us, looking back and forth at our two faces: Tabitha's, which was pained and ghostly pale, mine which was furious and ready to explode. He reached out to touch my hand, but I pulled away from him. I didn't want to be touched. By anyone.

"I'm not calling anyone until you talk to me."

I pointed at Tabitha. "This nut job claims to be my mother."

"I don't, I still don't understand," he said, turning back and forth between us.

"If you'll
just
let me explain," Tabitha said, now begging my good-natured boyfriend, which infuriated me to no end.

"No!" I shouted, pointing at the door, my temper flaring. I was so close to losing it completely. "Get out!"

"Fine, I'll go," she said, turning to the leave. "But if you change your mind, I'll answer anything. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. This is real. I'm real."

"Get out!" I screamed, running to my bedroom.

I heard the door close behind her as I hugged the quilt on my bed, clutching it to my chest. The bed shifted as Campbell sat beside me. He rubbed my back as I seethed.

"She's crazy," I said, over and over again.

"Is there any way it's true?" he asked.

In one swift jolt, I was sitting straight up, daggers in my eyes.

"How could you say that? How could you even
think
it? She's a lunatic!"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but
what if
, Auden? What if she's telling the truth?"

"Charlotte Kelly is my mother. End of discussion," I said, placing my feet on the floor. My arms trembled and my fingers shook.

"Shouldn't we at least discuss this?"

"No," I said, turning on him as anger enveloped me. "This discussion is over. If you want to stay, then drop it. Now."

"I can't do that. I love you. And we should talk about this, about how you're feeling."

"I feel nothing."

"I don't believe that."

"Cam, we're done talking about this. She's a crazy person. Plain and simple."

"Well, I'm not done."

Calmly, I walked to the front door and opened it, gesturing for him to make his exit.

"You can't be serious," he said, hesitating.

"As a heart attack," I said.

"Fine, I'll let you cool off. But I'm coming back."

"Whatever," I said.

"Don't do this."

"I'm not
doing
anything."

"I'll be back in a few hours," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off immediately. He looked defeated and confused, his head hanging as he walked through the open doorway.

"Again,
whatever,"
I said, before slamming the door and turning the deadbolt. The wood was cold against my skin as I stood against it, trying to catch my breath, holding back the tears that threatened to pour from my eyes. My hand cupped my mouth as I attempted to inhale and exhale at a normal rate.

I needed to make a call. And there was only one person I could trust. I shocked myself with the realization of who that person was.

"Hey, brat," he said.

"Jase," I said, my voice cracking.

He sobered up instantly. "Woah, what is it? You okay?"

"I need you to do something for me," I said, fighting tears.

"Um, okay," he said, hesitation obvious in his voice.

"Go to mom and dad's house. Find a picture of mom when she was pregnant with me."

"You're not making any sense at all."

"I know, I know I'm not. But I need you to do this for me," I insisted.

"Okay, we're going there for dinner tonight. I'll ask mom to find one—"

"No," I snapped. "You can't tell her
anything
about this."

"What the hell is going on?" Jason pressed. His patience was wearing thin.

"I don't know. I just...I need to see that picture," I said, pressing my thumb and index finger to my forehead, to the point of pain, which felt good. Like a release I so desperately needed.

"Talk to me, Auden. I've never heard you like this. You're freaking me out."

"There's this woman, okay? And she, um, she works at a department store. She gave me a makeover months ago, and this morning she showed up at my door." I paced the floor as I spoke.

"Creepy, but what does that have to do with Mom?"

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