Lessons From a Younger Lover (27 page)

BOOK: Lessons From a Younger Lover
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59

Gwen's eyes fluttered as she turned on her side. She gasped and immediately clutched her stomach.

“Careful, Ms. Andrews,” the nurse said. “You're okay. Just try to breathe and relax.”

Gwen opened her eyes, then squinted as she looked around. “What happened? Where am I?” she asked groggily.

“You're at Bradley Memorial. The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse replied.

A few moments later, the doctor came in. It was Dr. Rolette, the same doctor who'd treated Lorraine when she'd passed out months earlier. “Well,” Dr. Rolette said as he checked her pupils and took her pulse. “You're looking a little better than the last time I saw you.”

“What happened, doctor? My stomach, it's…”

“We pumped your stomach, Gwen.”

“Pumped…but why?” Gwen closed her eyes and tried to get her bearings. But she was still groggy.

“What's the last thing you remember?” Dr. Rolette asked.

Gwen swallowed, thought hard, and opened her eyes. “I was with Ransom. He was holding me.”

Dr. Rolette's eyes narrowed. “Is he the tall guy, long hair?”

Gwen nodded.

“That sounds like the man who brought you here, Gwen. Now I need to ask some tough questions. Were you two using any type of illegal substances prior to his bringing you here?”

Illegal substances? Ransom?
And then she remembered.
Adam!
“He was at my house. He asked for something to drink.” Fragments of the afternoon began piecing together. She remembered his asking for something to eat, and then for peppers. She was out of the living room for several minutes as she'd searched the cabinets.

“I strongly suspect that Ransom put something in your drink, Gwen.”

“No, his brother. Adam. Adam Johnson.” Gwen explained the events as she remembered them to her doctor.

The doctor wrote something on his chart. “There were traces of a narcotic in your system. We had to send it out to the lab for specifics. But how well do you know this Adam guy?”

Gwen opened her eyes with clarity for the first time since her hospital arrival. “Enough to know he drugged me.”

60

It was a little before midnight when Ransom arrived at Pam's house in the south part of Los Angeles. He didn't hesitate to ring the bell. After what seemed like agonizing minutes but was actually only a few seconds, he rang it again.

“Who is it?” a voice shouted from inside.

“It's me, Pam. Ransom!”

The door opened quickly. “Ransom, what are you doing here?”

Ransom pushed past her and stormed into the house. “Where's Brea?” he asked, looking around.

“Ransom, what's the matter? Brea ain't here!”

Ransom pulled out his cell phone. “Pam, if you don't tell me where she is, I'm calling the police right now!”

Pam rushed over to Ransom and grabbed his hand. “Wait a minute, wait! Let me think for just a minute.”

Ransom slowly lowered his arm but kept the cell phone in his hand. He stared hard at Pam. “She's got my daughter, Pam,” he said quietly. “Where is she?”

“Okay, Ransom, just calm down a minute. You know Brea wouldn't hurt that girl….”

“I don't know what Brea will do. Because before a few hours ago, I didn't think she'd move out of her apartment and leave town without saying a word!”

“She what? Oh, Lord…” Pam walked over to an end table against the wall and picked up her cordless phone. Like Ransom, she got voice mail. “Brea, this is your mom. Ransom is here and he's looking for Isis. If you don't call back in five minutes, he's calling the police. So call me, girl. What's wrong with you?” Pam slammed down the phone and began pacing the room.

“I told her not to do anything foolish,” Pam said.

“What do you know, Pam?”

Pam sighed heavily and sat down. “Sit down, Ransom.”

“I don't feel like sitting. I want to know where Isis is, that's all I want.”

“Brea is so in love with you, Ransom, and she wants desperately for the three of you to be a family. You, her, and Isis. She called me today, crying and screaming about how you had become engaged to that…to Gwen. I've never heard her like that before. She just kept going on and on about how if y'all could just give your relationship another chance, she knows it will work. I know that Jake was pressuring her to move in with him, but it's you she wants.

“I know it's hard to hear this, Ransom, but Brea means well. A lot of how she is today is my fault. I spoiled her as a child, tried to make up for the fact she didn't have a father. And then with her looks and everything…I encouraged her to depend on that more than her mind, her intelligence. I showed her how her looks could get her places, and they
have
, Ransom! So yeah, she's spoiled and self-centered and a little bratty at times, but you and Brea were great together once.

“Now this is stupid, what Brea did, and I'm not trying to excuse it, not at all. But just try and understand, Ransom. The only reason she did it is to get your attention, and to get you away from Gwen. Just try to see it from her side, Ransom, that's all I ask. And think of your child, think of Isis and how great it would be if instead of rushing into a marriage with Gwen, you slow down, just for a minute, and give you and Brea a chance to make a home for the daughter you both love.”

Ransom jumped up and headed for the door. He'd just opened it when the phone rang.

Pam answered it on the first ring. “Brea, where are you?”

Ransom walked over and snatched the phone out of Pam's hand. “Brea, I don't know what kind of games you've been playing, but…if you have any thoughts about us being together, then you need to bring my daughter over here, right now.”

“Ransom, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.”

“No, you never do.” Ransom rarely raised his voice, but he did so now. “Where are you?”

“Ransom, Isis is fine. We've been having a wonderful time together. She's sleeping now.”

Ransom took a deep breath. He felt about ready to explode and he knew such negative energy wasn't good for the situation. He felt with every fiber of his being that Brea was involved with whatever happened to Gwen. But it wasn't time to ask about that now. He had to get Isis back first. “Brea, where are you?” He enunciated each word crisply and clearly, as if he were talking to Isis when she was two.

Brea sighed audibly. “Promise you won't get mad at me?”

You mean more than I am already? I could break your neck right about now!
Ransom took another deep breath and staunched the words that threatened to spill out of him. He knew it was imperative to not say anything that would provoke Brea, but to say whatever it took to get Isis back into his arms. “I'm not mad at you, Brea,” he said finally. “I'm just worried about Isis. Where are you, baby?”

Brea's heart leapt as she heard him speak the endearment. “I'm with Jake. In Oakland. He's got a big house and Isis has her own room…and he's got all these video games. She loves it!”

Ransom clenched his fist, using every form of discipline he knew not to go off. The woman had taken his child to northern California—seven hours away by car, forty-five minutes by plane—without a word to him.
Breathe. One. Two. Release
. He called upon the meditative training he'd learned from the elders to calm him. “I'll take the first flight out in the morning. Give me Jake's address.”

“That's okay, Ran. Jake will bring us back there.”

“That'll take too long, baby. Just let me fly and pick her up.” Ransom almost choked on the kindness he was trying to convey. But after he got back his princess? Then he had a few other choice words to share with Brea James.

61

Ransom left Pam's house and headed for the airport. He called the hospital as soon as he reached his car. Gwen was still there. They connected him to her room. “Hey, baby, sorry to wake you.”

“I wasn't asleep. Where are you? The doctor said you were here.”

“I was. How are you, Gwen?”

“They said I'll be fine. Adam drugged me, Ransom. He tried to…” Gwen couldn't finish the sentence.

“I know what that sorry muthafucka tried to do. Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna handle that business.”

Gwen had never heard Ransom curse like that, or sound so angry. “Don't do anything crazy, Ransom. They examined me. He didn't do anything. Something must have scared him and…How did you find out about it? And how is it that you were here at the hospital?”

Ransom told Gwen about going to the house, arriving there just before Adam raped her.

“Oh my goodness, Ransom. I can't believe this. If you hadn't come…”

“Shh, baby, don't even think about it. Just concentrate on getting better.”

“I feel better already. But the doctors want to keep me here overnight, just for observation. Can you come, Ransom? I need to see you right now.”

“I can't, Butterfly. I'm on my way to Oakland.”

“Oakland?'

“To get Isis.”

“What?”

“It's a long story, but she's there with Brea and Jake. Brea left town after…” Ransom stopped before telling Gwen his theory, that Brea and Adam were in cahoots regarding what had happened to her.

“After what?”

“Nothing. Just get better…And do me a favor? If they release you before I get back, hire a limo and come to LA. Get a hotel room. I'll cover the cost. Just don't go back to your house.”

“But, Ransom—”

“No buts, Butterfly. I need you to listen to me right now. There are some things I can't get into, but that you need to know. I'll get on the next plane after picking up Isis and meet you in LA, at the Sheraton. Promise me you'll do this.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Good girl. I love you.”

62

The first flight out of LAX to Oakland left at five minutes past six. Ransom bought a first-class ticket on the spot and strolled into the cabin. He was wide awake, even though his body hadn't known sleep in almost twenty-four hours. Just under an hour later, they arrived at Oakland International, and thirty minutes after that, he was in a rental car, punching the address Brea had given him into his iPhone's GPS.

The neighborhood was plush and private. Ransom casually took in the mansions as he looked at the numbers painted on the curb. Following the GPS directions, he took a right, then a left, climbing higher and higher into this community called Rio Vista nestled in the California hills.

Jake's mansion was at the very top of the hill. The huge brick home was surrounded by an alarmed wrought iron fence. The landscaping was impeccable, the front yard vast and sweeping, with various types of succulent bushes lining the circular drive. Ransom pulled his rental car up to the speaker and pushed the button.

“Ransom?” Brea asked.

“Yeah.”

Seconds later, the heavy gate swung open and Ransom proceeded inside. He parked behind a Mercedes, which was parked behind an Escalade. Ransom thought of his daughter alone with a variety of strangers, football players most likely, and his blood began to boil again.

Brea opened the door timidly. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a top with no bra. She was barefoot, and looked as if she hadn't gotten much sleep herself. “I'm sorry,” she said by way of greeting.

Ransom nodded. “Where's Isis?”

“She's asleep. Come on in.”

Brea opened the door wide and allowed Ransom inside. Even in his anger, he noted the decor was high class and high tech. It had the feel of a bachelor pad, black leather furniture, lots of chrome and glass, and the prerequisite naked woman in the form of a fountain with water spouting from her upturned mouth.

“I'm really sorry, Ransom. I know I should have called you, but so much was happening.”

“We can talk later, Brea. Right now, I just want my daughter, and then I have to get back home. I've got some workers waiting on me,” he lied.

“You mean it? You're not mad?”

Ransom had never been angrier. But he knew now was not the time for confrontation. He was in another man's house, hours from home, with his daughter in the other room. He knew if Jake got in his face about anything, Ransom would hurt him. And now was not the time to go to jail.

“You shouldn't have done it, Brea.”

“I know, baby, but…it's complicated. I was going to tell you about the move and then you went out of town and I didn't want to leave Isis in LA with my mother. Then Jake chartered a flight and we had to go. But Isis had a wonderful time, Ransom! Jake brought his son over and we invited a few other kids. They had…like a slumber party. Some of the mothers are still here. Those are the cars you see out front.” But what Brea didn't tell him was that she was playing both ends against the middle—securing a future with Jake just in case things didn't work out with Ransom. Jake was ready to marry her, he'd practically said as much. Her moving to Oakland was to calm his insecurities where her child's father was concerned. Brea wanted Ransom, but Jake wanted Brea. Pam always told her to keep “an heir and a spare,” a term used in royalty, but adopted by Brea's mother to mean a man in your bed and one who can climb in at a moment's notice.

Ransom looked at his watch. “I really have to go.”

“Okay.” Brea motioned for him to follow her as she walked through the massive living room, up a flight of stairs to what looked like the children's wing of the house. It was painted in bright colors and there was a mini game room at the top of the landing, complete with gumball and candy machines, and even a machine like those in stores and restaurants, where the kid puts in a dollar and tries to lift out a gift using a steel claw. There were a hodge-podge of bean bags scattered around the room, a huge flat-screen TV on the wall, and what looked like a hundred games in an entertainment center that also housed a variety of video games. It was easy for him to see why Isis might have had a good time.

Brea opened the door to a room and Ransom stepped inside. Isis lay sleeping on the bottom portion of a bunk bed shaped like a carriage. Another little girl slept in the top bunk. A sitting room with a couch upholstered in pink polka-dot leather sat off to the side, along with a dollhouse big enough for Isis to run through.

Brea shook Isis gently. “Isis?” Isis was sound asleep and didn't budge.

“That's okay, don't wake her.” Ransom gently moved Brea out of the way and took his daughter in his arms. For one brief moment he stood there, hugging her tightly, and thanked the spirits that they had safely returned his child.

Brea didn't miss the emotion of the moment. The magnitude of what she had done began to sink in, as did the thought that the very thing she had done to bring her and Ransom together might take them farther apart. She wanted to ask about Gwen, but didn't dare. Instead, she placed a tentative hand on Ransom's shoulder. “I'm so sorry, baby.” She then took her head and rested it on his arm, placing the other hand around their sleeping child.

Ransom immediately moved away, out of the room and down the stairs. He didn't even turn to tell a trailing, still talking Brea good-bye.

Ransom and Isis were almost to the airport when she woke up. She looked around with sleepy eyes. “Where's Mommy, Daddy?”

“She's at home, Princess. How are you?” Ransom had glanced at her often as she sat sleeping in the passenger seat, almost checking to make sure she was really beside him and not just in his imagination.

“I'm fine, Daddy. I had so much fun with Mommy and my new friends!”

“You did? Well, I'm glad, sweetie.” Ransom waited a second and then asked, “You weren't scared on the plane, to come all this way with just Mommy?”

Isis shook her head vigorously. “No, Daddy, it was fun! Jake bought me a bunch of toys. And there was a little baby there, only three months old. We all got to hold him. I'm a big girl, huh, Daddy?”

“Yes, Princess. You are a big girl.”

Isis continued to rattle on, telling her father everything that had happened that weekend, the games they had played, and how she had spent most of the time with a group of children, a nanny, and, from the sound of it, a chef who worked from Jake's home.

“Where was Jake?” Ransom asked.

“He went out. Mommy stayed with some of the other kids' mommies. They had a party downstairs while we played upstairs.”

Ransom became quiet, his emotions roiling. On one hand, he was thankful his child was safe, and understanding of the fact that Brea loved her child. On the other, he could still strangle Brea for what she had done, how she could have potentially placed his daughter in danger. How well did she know all of the people around Jake? They'd only been dating a few months. And how was Brea involved in what happened to Gwen?

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Are you and Mommy going to get married?”

The question shocked Ransom, coming out of the blue as it did. He and Gwen had discussed how to tell Isis about their engagement. They planned to do so together, on a family outing.

“No, Isis. Brea and I are not getting married. How do you feel about that?”

“But why not, Daddy? Mommy says she still loves you. Don't you love her?”

Ransom knew these were ideas that Brea had planted. The thought of using his child as a bargaining chip got Ransom pissed off all over again. But he kept his voice light.

“There are different ways to love, Princess,” he said. “I love Brea because she is your mother, but not enough to live with her. Does that make sense to you?”

Isis placed a finger on the side of her face, thinking the question over in a way that belied her young years. “I guess so,” she said at last. “I love Miss Gwen too. Do you love her enough for her to come and live with us?”

Ransom looked over and smiled at his daughter. “Yes, Princess. I love Miss Gwen that much.”

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