Black (15 page)

He saw it in my eyes, the way my hand protectively wrapped around her shoulders. He knew I was back for her, she was the only reason I would step back in this town. Nothing else is here for me.

“I think you’re doing what any mother would do,” Robbie says, bringing me out my thoughts. I smile at him. He’s handsome, nice. All the things I should be going for. Except I’m not.

“I have to tell you something,” I say, placing the glass on the table. I look to him to see a serious look cross his face.

“Conversations that usually start with that don’t usually end well,” he says mockingly, but with a worried look on his face.

“I have been seeing someone.” I look and wait for his reaction. He doesn’t seem surprised.

“I know you have, Rose.”

“Why are you here then?” I can’t help but ask.

“I’m here because I don’t think you want anything long term with a man like Black. Especially if you’re going to be trying to get your daughter back.” I’m shocked to say the least. Shocked that he can say that, he doesn’t even know him.

“He isn’t as bad as they say,” I defend him. Why? I have no idea.

“No, he isn’t…” he shakes his head slightly, “…I think he’s worse.”

He pauses for a moment, picking up his glass and taking another drink. I sit there, unable to say anything.

“Are you still seeing him?”

“No!” And it’s true. I haven’t been, and it’s been torture.

“I think that’s the smart thing to do.” He nods his head like he’s trying to make me believe it. Pity that I don’t.

Dinner ended on an awkward note since he wanted to kiss me. He leaned in and I deflected it with a kiss on the cheek. He looked unhappy, but I wasn’t going to be kissing two guys in a matter of months.

Today, though, today is a new day. And I am excited. I have finished work early, and I’m standing at the front of Isabelle’s school waiting for her break. I hear the bell, and my smile is so wide it’s hurting my face. I can’t help it. Since I saw her yesterday, I couldn’t wait to see her again. She’s grown so much and she’s so beautiful it breaks my heart that I’ve missed so much. I want to learn about everything that’s new. What is her favorite show now? She changed her mind on that so often it was hard to keep up.

A hand touches my back and I turn to see Roger standing there, his face scrunched up. Anger is evident in his features.

“You should
not
be here,” he basically spits. I turn my head, wanting to see if she comes out. Not wishing to miss a second of her. He grabs my arm and turns me back to him. “I knew you’d come again today. Let’s get out of sight and talk.” I’m hesitant since I don’t want to be anywhere alone with this man. I turn back, and he speaks as I do. “She’ll be waiting,” he assures me.

“I want to see her more,” I say, walking behind him, following him out of sight of the school grounds.

“I don’t think that should happen,” he says. I stop. Not wanting to go further. We’re already far enough away as it is.

“You can’t stop me, Roger. I will take it to the courts if I have to.” He laughs dryly at me.

“With what money? You haven’t held your job long enough to cover the cost. You don’t even own a house, Rose. Plus...” he leans in close, his scent I once used to love now makes me want to be sick, “…you’re a druggie.” He basically spits the last words at me. I take a step back, removing myself from his proximity.

“That is all on you.” I know I shouldn’t have said it when it leaves my mouth. I felt it, I forgot for a second how bad his temper is. His face goes red, he looks possessed. His hand is fast that I don’t even see the movement. He brings it to my face and slaps me so hard I fall backward. I don’t move, there isn’t a reason to. If I speak or say another word it’s ignition for him. He walks so he’s next to me.

“You are nothing but trash, used up and wasted trash.” He kicks my ribs hard. The breath leaves me and it feels like I have to fight to get it back.

I have to remove my child from this man, she can’t grow up with him.

Weeks pass by, and they drag. It’s torturous not seeing or having her. How is it that she makes me feel the slightest bit alive when I’ve felt dead for as long as I can remember? How can someone so broken even begin to help someone so fucked up? I’ve kept my distance, I haven’t called, stalked, or followed her. She needs this time, I need this time to wash her out of my system. A system that’s already so broken, one that craves her, with reasons I’m yet to still discover.

My phone rings, pulling me from the dead man on the ground—another hit, another life. He’s old, this one, older than I usually hit. He fought, he tried to bribe me at first, then he pleaded. They all plead or bribe in the end. More money, or offering up families or their children. As if these things mean anything to me, as if I should care about their loved ones. I can’t. That’s what makes me so good at what I do. It’s impossible for me to. That’s why the thought of wanting and craving Rose has me puzzled. I have craved one thing, and that’s only ever been sex. In my early twenties, soon even that became boring. Another hole, another goal was Jake’s motto. Never mine, they all blend into one. Each time it left me wondering why I even did it in the first place.

I look to the caller ID, then the dead man. He’s lying on the concrete, his head has blood pouring out and spreading in a neat pattern over the ground. He hit it hard after I shot him.
More mess.

“Black… Black, is that you?” her voice rings from the end of my phone. I don’t talk, don’t know what to say. I could tell her I’m busy, that I have a body to dispose of, but I sit and wait to hear her voice again. Looking at the lifeless body beneath my feet. “Look, I don’t know how to ask this…” she pauses, her voice is shaky, “…I need to borrow some money. I promise I’ll pay you back. Black… Black, are you there? Please answer me.” She’s clearly distraught. I honestly never thought she’d ask, so I know she needs it. I also have an idea now of why she may need it.

“Come to mine in thirty,” I say, clicking the phone shut. I make a call, and they’re coming to collect the body. It’s done. I drop my card. He will know why the floor is covered in blood, and he will know it’s from me.

She’s there when I arrive home. She has on a short dress and her legs look like they should be wrapped around my waist right now, with her heels digging into my ass. Sunglasses cover her face. I don’t see the look she giving me. I’d like to know what she’s thinking. What her feelings are? Her feelings show so evidently in her eyes when I can see them. She stands taller, watching me from behind her glasses, I want to rip them off her face to see what she’s really not telling me. Except I walk straight past her and up into my house. She follows, her heels clicking with each step she takes behind me.

Hayden is sitting on my couch eating chips when I walk in. He looks to me and smiles, then looks to Rose and smiles brighter. I walk to him and pull the change from my pocket. He takes it and looks back at me.

“Go to the shop, get something to eat.” He nods his head eagerly and stops at Rose on the way out, who’s standing at the door.

“I’m glad you’re okay, miss,” he says and then runs out. I stand there, waiting for her to speak. Waiting for her to tell me something. My mind is on her and her body. All the things I could do with it. My cock is hard. It’s never hard anymore unless I think of her. I’m in a fucked up situation—royally fucked.

“You going to speak to me?” she asks. I walk forward, not liking the tone in her voice. I snatch the glasses from her eyes. She covers them and swears at me. I tilt her head up, noticing she has a black eye and has recently been crying.

“What happened?”

“As if you care!” She turns her nose up at me and faces away so she doesn’t have to look at me.

“Rose… tell… me… what… happened?” I ask very slowly, dragging each word out. Her ice blue eyes turn back to me. Hard now.

“He happened! Everything in my life that’s fucked is because of
him
. He happened, dammit!” she screams. Her fists clench tight.

“The father?” She doesn’t look surprised.

“I saw you watching me.” Her face is mocking me. “I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore?” she teases.

“I do, but it’s best if we don’t.”

“God, you make me want to rip my hair out by the roots,” she exclaims.

“As long as I can rip it too.”

“You have issues, Black.” She shakes her head at me. Stepping closer. Just as she’s in reach, my hand flies up to touch her eye. I want to take it away, the pain he’s caused her.

“What do you need, Rose?” My voice is calm, but my body is anything but. The want for her is so strong. She starts to fidget, looking down at her hands. They clench and her fingernails dig into her hands.

“I need to borrow some money.”

“How much do you need?”

“I need a lot…” she hesitates. I give her a card from my pocket and a pen from the table. She looks at it. “This is a card, Black. What do you want me to do with it?” I look down and realize what I’ve given her. What a mistake it is. If she knew, knew what that card meant, she wouldn’t be giving me the odd look she’s giving me right now.

“Write down your amount.” She puts the end of the pen in her mouth, steps back and leans on the kitchen bench. She looks to me then back to the card, and she writes on it. The pen scratching the card, then she hesitantly holds it close to her.

“I don’t know if you have this. If you don’t please say so, so I can find the money somewhere else.” I hold my hand out. She doesn’t let the card go, just holds it to her chest.

“Rose, the card
. Now
.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she says, about to tear it up. So I snatch it from her hands and read the amount. I have more than enough, I have money hidden everywhere, the amount she needs is under my bed.

“Wait here, Rose. Don’t move…” She scrunches her brows. “Tell me you won’t move?”

“I won’t move,” she says. I walk away to my bedroom and pull the case from under my bed. It has more than what she needs. She can have it all.

She doesn’t move. She’s standing there, hands clenched with the pen still in one hand. She looks up at me as I enter, hope written on her face when she sees the bag in hand. I hold it out to her, but she doesn’t take it. She stands there looking from me to the bag.

“I have one condition. Well, possibly two.”

“Yes,” she says.

“When you take this money, the condition is I don’t want to see you again.” Her eyes go big, she looks hurt. “Second, I don’t want any of it back. It’s yours.” I shove the bag into her hands. Both hands come up and cuddle it like a baby. She looks from the bag to me.