Authors: Claire Adams
All I got in
response was a small nod of her head, but that was enough to steel my nerves.
As I sat on the floor waiting for the sobs to subside, I mapped the next steps
that I would take.
Riley would not be
the one to pay the price for my mother's pain.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
When
I got home from work, I pulled on my running gear and went out to clear my
mind. I couldn't stop thinking about Leah's lips on mine, and how badly I'd
wanted to do more than just kiss her. I'd been chastising myself for not taking
advantage of her forwardness, but there was something in me that knew better
than to do that.
The question was
why had I held back?
I'd never been shy
about sex with anyone, Sloan notwithstanding, but she was a whole different
matter. I'd always enjoyed sex anywhere and everywhere I'd wanted it, so not
following my desire this afternoon — especially after Sloan had gotten me
worked up — was confusing. As I ran, I told myself that the reason I'd held
back was because I didn't know what Leah wanted and I didn't want to risk any kind
of accusations of impropriety.
"I want out
of this damn business," I exhaled as I ran. "I don't need to get tied
up in a problematic office romance."
Satisfied with my
rationalization, I turned and headed back towards home. On the way back, I
tried to come up with a way to keep Sloan at a distance. I didn't mind serving
her needs every now and again, but it was going to become problematic if she
started pushing the boundaries. I could draw all the boundaries I wanted, but
when it came down to it, she was still an attractive woman who turned me on,
and even I had limits. I came up with a solution that I thought would work, and
as I ran up the front drive, I felt satisfied that I'd solved the two most
pressing issues.
As I rounded the
drive, I saw Sloan's car parked in front of the house and groaned inwardly. I'd
been looking forward to meeting up with Brittany, one of the attractive young
women who'd accompanied me to the Mediterranean, at a club in Brooklyn. I
figured it would kill two birds with one stone by getting me out of the house
for a night of fun and relaxation, and, hopefully, release some sexual tension.
This threw a wrench in the plan.
"What are you
doing here?" I blurted out as I entered the sitting room, still sweaty
from my run.
"Well, hello,
darling," my mother smiled. "Look who stopped by to visit!"
"I see. What
are you doing here, Sloan?" I repeated as I stared pointedly at her.
"Is that any
way to greet your business partner?" she asked as she turned and looked up
at me. With her back to my mother, she gave me the once over with her hungry
roving eyes then licked her lips as she stared at my crotch. I knew that I
wasn't going to be able to control the response she was looking to generate, so
I moved back toward the hall.
"I'm going to
go shower," I said.
"Will you
join us for dinner, Jack?" my mother asked. "Sloan is staying and the
cook made your favorite!"
I rolled my eyes,
but didn't respond. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, yet, but by the time
I'd showered and changed, I knew there was no way in hell I was going to leave
Sloan alone with my mother.
All through
dinner, Sloan made subtle comments about what a great partnership we had and
how well we worked together.
"You two do
make a lovely coupled, dear," my mother said, smiling across the table at
me. "Your father would have absolutely approved."
"I see,"
I said, looking down at the poached salmon and steamed asparagus on my plate.
My mother was right, it was my favorite, but tonight I didn't feel much like
eating. "Well, you know how much his approval means to me."
"Don't be
rude, dear," my mother scolded as she held up her wine glass for a refill.
"We have a guest."
"Sloan isn't
a guest, she's like family, Mother," I said sticking a fork into the fish
as I decided to eat, hungry or not. "Besides, she knows what a miserable
bastard Pop was. Don't you, Sloan? Mother drinks to cover it all up, but we
know the truth."
"Jack,
there's no need to be rude," Sloan said quietly as she ate her dinner.
The rest of the
meal was passed with uncomfortable small talk as my mother proceeded to drink
herself into a state of numbness yet again. I watched as Sloan carried the
conversation as best she could, and once the dishes were cleared, I excused
myself. Sloan followed me to the front hallway.
"Why do you
have to be so miserable to your mother?" she whispered. "Don't you
think she's suffered enough?"
"Why are we
all pretending that my father was a wonderful man who left nothing but happy
memories for us all?" I shot back. "I'm sick of the lies. Can't you
see how miserable she is? It's been that way for years."
"You're just
mad because you're pent up," she said, sliding her hand between my thighs
and feeling me instantly respond.
"Stop it,
Sloan," I growled. "This is unacceptable."
"This
is?" she asked as she rubbed my crotch and felt me harden at her touch.
"Are you sure?"
"Sloan
…" I warned. "Knock it off!"
"Mmm, you
know what I'd like to do with this?" she whispered as she moved her hand
to the zipper of my pants. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away as I
twisted it. She cried out, "Ouch, you're hurting me!"
"Good, then
maybe it will finally get through your thick skull that no means no," I
hissed. "I told you what the deal was, Sloan. Now stop pushing me or I'll
be forced to deal with you in a way that you won't like."
"Oooh, you'll
get rough with me?" she chortled as she leaned in close enough for me to
feel her breath on my lips.
"No, I'll
fire you," I said bluntly. "I'll remove you from the company and keep
you from being anywhere near me ever again."
She narrowed her
icy-blue eyes as she stepped back and stared at me. "I see. Is this how
we're going to do it?"
"I told you
what the deal was, Sloan," I said stepping away from her. "You
agreed, and now you're going back on the deal. If you violate our terms, there
will be consequences. Do you understand?"
"Oh, I
understand all right," she said. "But I'm not sure you understand
exactly who you're dealing with, my friend."
"I know all
too well, believe me," I said through clenched teeth.
"I don't
think you do," she replied before turning on her heel and returning to the
dining room where my mother sat waiting for coffee to be served.
I shook my head as
I opened the door and headed out to the car. Jimmy was waiting, and once I told
him where we were headed, he raised the window between us and let me sit back
in peace as he drove me to the club.
*
I
found Brittany standing with her back to the front door, moving her ass to the
beat of the electronic music that poured from the club speakers. She was
wearing a sliver dress that revealed more of her tanned body than it covered.
"Jack, you
made it!" she shouted over the throbbing beat as she moved in close and
rubbed her enormous breasts against my chest. I felt myself aching for the
release that I wouldn't allow myself with Sloan.
"I did,
indeed. Care to help a fellow out as a reward?" I said grinning as I moved
her hand down between my legs. She looked up at me wide-eyed and excited as she
nodded and took my hand.
She led me across
the dance floor to one of the many bathrooms that the club had installed
specifically for this purpose. I threw up a thank you to the club owner as
Brittany pulled me into the first empty bathroom she found, slammed the door
shut, and locked it behind her.
"You know how
I like it, Jack," she purred as she pressed her body against mine.
"Do it the way I like it."
I did indeed know
how she liked it, so I reached out and grabbed a fist full of the long, blonde
hair that fell in waves down her back and pulled her head back as she moaned
softly. Brittany liked it rough.
I spun her around
and pushed her up against the wall as I rubbed my crotch against her ass. She
moaned louder as I reached around and pulled her breasts out of the front of
her dress and squeezed her nipples harder and harder until she cried out,
begging me to take her right there.
I wasn't sure how
much longer I could hold out given the amount of torture that Sloan had
administered at the house, but I tried to hold back long enough to ensure that
Brittany was getting what she needed.
"Jack, I need
it! I need it!" she cried as I held her hands above her head and ran my
hand down her body and up under her short skirt. She begged me louder as she
pushed her ass against me, "Please! Please!"
Holding her by her
wrists, I spun her around and bent her over the counter next to the sink before
grabbing a condom from the jar on the shelf.
"Don't
move," I growled as I let go of her wrists long enough to unzip my pants
and roll the latex barrier on my engorged shaft. Brittany writhed under me, but
she stayed put until I was ready. Then, with one hand I held her down on the
counter, and I used my knee to force her legs apart as I yanked her skirt up
and thrust inside her as I began pounding her fast and deep, just the way she
liked it. I could feel her wet warmth enveloping me as I slammed into her over
and over.
"Oh God!
Right there! Right there! Right there!" Brittany screamed as I hit her
G-spot again and again. I could feel her on the edge of an intense orgasm, and
I knew from our past experiences that in order to get her there, I was going to
have to drive harder and deeper.
I picked up the
pace and thrust into her faster and faster as I felt her passing the point of
no return. In an instant, she tightened around me and I heard a low deep groan
pushed forth from somewhere deep inside. She shoved her ass back against me as
she pulsed and rocked, screaming out how good it felt and begging me not to
stop.
I kept thrusting,
but whereas our previous experiences had ended with me reaching a climax not
long after she had, tonight I couldn't find the edge. I was still rock hard and
pumping as hard as I could, but I nothing followed. After a few minutes,
Brittany looked over her shoulder confused and asked, "Are you okay,
Jack?"
"Yeah,
fine," I grumbled as I slowed and then stopped. "Too much wine at
dinner, I think."
"Oh, yeah,
that happens to me, too!" she said brightly. I pulled out and disposed of
the condom as she adjusted her dress and checked her makeup in the mirror.
"Well, let's go dance and have a drink or something, and then we'll do it
again!"
"Yeah,
again," I nodded as I washed my hands and followed her back to the bar.
For the rest of
the evening, Brittany did her best to get my engine revving again, but as much
as I tried to indulge her, I knew something had shifted in me. I just wasn't
sure what it was.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
I
held Riley until she
cried herself to sleep, then I got up and made a phone call before going into
the living room where my mother lay sprawled out on the sofa with a glass of
vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I stood staring at her until she
turned her head to look at me.
"What the
hell is your problem?" she barked as she raised the glass to her lips and
drank deeply.
"You are my
problem, Mama," I said quietly. "You've been the problem for a long
time, and I'm sick and tired of it. You're not going to ruin Riley's life the
way you ruined Molly's."
"Why, you
ungrateful little bitch!" my mother spat as she pulled herself up to a
sitting position. "I've done everything for you, and this is how you repay
me?"
"What have
you done for me, Mama?" I replied in a calm voice. I knew what was coming
next, and I knew how I was going to change the script. "Tell me,
Mama."
"I gave birth
to you. I raised you, put clothes on your back and food in your mouth,"
she rattled off the list of things she'd done ending with, "And I'm your
mother."
"You did do
those things, and I'm grateful for what you did to get me to this point, but
you're sick, Mama," I said as I leaned against the wall, feeling nothing
but pity for her. "You're angry and sad, and you took your feelings out on
Molly and Patrick and me. Molly didn't make it, but Patrick and I did, and I'm
not going to let you drive Riley into the same place that Molly went, Mama. I'm
just not going to allow it."
"And what are
you going to do, Little Miss Smarty Pants?" she taunted. "You think
you can raise a twelve-year-old all by yourself? Good luck with that,
sweetheart. You have no idea what it means to do that kind of hard work."
"In case you
haven’t noticed," I said. "I already am. And I’m fairly certain I can
do a better job that you did, if for no other reason than I'll be sober."
"You useless
little cunt!" my mother screamed as she tried to push herself up off of
the couch. The alcohol had robbed her of her ability to right herself, and she
fell back amongst the blankets as she shook the hand holding the lit cigarette
at me. "You were always the ungrateful one. The mouthy little upstart. I
always hated you."
I inhaled sharply
as the words flew out of her mouth. I'd always known that she didn't love me as
much as the other two, but this was the first time she'd actually said it. I
nodded then turned away to answer the tapping at the front door. I opened it
and found my brother standing on the other side as I'd expected.
"She's all
yours," I said wearily as I pulled the door wide open and stepped aside.
He looked at me quizzically and then laid a hand on my shoulder. He was dressed
in black and wore his collar, and for a moment, I had the urge to address him
as Father.
"I've got it,
Leah," he said quietly before turning and heading into the living room. I
stood watching from the doorway as he sat down on the edge of one of the
wingback chairs that Mama had always shooed us off of saying they were for
company.
"Who the hell
are you?" Mama demanded to know.
"Mama, it's
Patrick," he said softly. "We need to talk."
"I have no
idea who you are, and I don't want to talk to you," she said waving him
off before taking a long drag of her cigarette and blowing the smoke in his
direction.
"But I need
to talk to you," he said bowing his head. He dropped his voice and began
speaking so softly that I couldn't hear what he was saying. I assumed that was
on purpose, so I walked out the front door and sat down on the porch giving
them some privacy.
I tried not to
think about what was going to happen next, and instead, let my mind wander back
to kissing Jack Yates. It had been a long time since I'd kissed anyone like
that—or anyone in general. I could still feel the warmth of Jack's lips and the
solidness of his chest under my fingers. I'd wanted to let go. I'd wanted to
feel his hands roaming my body, but I knew that if I'd done that, I would have
most likely lost my job.
"Dammit!"
I cursed as I slammed my fist into my thigh trying to hold back the tears that
threatened to spill over. "When is any of this going to get easier?"
"Probably not
tonight," Patrick said as he stepped through the door and stood out on the
porch with me. "Sorry, I couldn't help but hear you."
"What did she
say?" I asked trying not to get my hope up. "Will she get help?"
"Leah, listen
to me," he said as he walked over to the porch swing. I scooted over and
gave him room to sit down. "Mama is really sick inside, and I don't know
that any of us can help her. I don't know that we can't, but I think her road
back is going to be long and hard. She doesn't want to get well, Leah. She
wants to stay in the place where she drowns the pain and then wallows in
it."
"But she
could get into rehab and stop drinking," I said helplessly. "She
could sober up."
"If she
wanted to," he said taking my hand. "But she doesn't want to, Leah.
That's the hard part of all of this. She doesn't want to leave the pain behind.
She's angry and hurt and lonely, but she'd rather stay that way than deal with
everything sober."
"But Patrick
…" I whispered. "I can't … Riley can't …"
"No, you most
definitely cannot," he nodded as he squeezed my hand. "We've got to
get you out of this house as soon as possible. You and Riley need to stay
somewhere else. You can stay at the parish house for a few days, but there
really isn't enough room for you there."
"But we can't
leave Mama here by herself," I protested. "She'll starve to death or
hurt herself or burn the place down."
"I'm going to
work on finding a caretaker for her, Leah," he said patting my shoulder.
"And I'll look into housing for you and Riley, but you two can't stay
here. Riley won't survive it."
I nodded and
covered my face with my hands as I tried to hold back the tears. I knew he was
right, but it felt like such an extreme solution to the problem.
"What if
Molly comes back," I whispered. "How will she know how to find
us?"
"Leah, it's
time you faced reality," Patrick said as he put his arms around me and
hugged me tightly. "Molly isn't coming back."
His words released
the dam that had built inside of me, and I sobbed on his shoulder, releasing
all the pain and fear I'd felt since our sister had disappeared. Patrick rested
his chin on the top of my head, just like he'd done when we were kids, and
waited for my grief to tire itself out.
*
"
Riley
, it's time to get up," I
said shaking the sleeping girl. She grumbled and rolled over pulling the covers
over her head. "Riley, this is not a rehearsal.
It's time to get up and get ready, kiddo. If
you can't go to school, you're going to come to work with me."
"Aww,
Leah," she groaned as she pulled the pillow over her ears and squeezed her
eyes shut against the light. "You're so mean!"
"Next time
you'll think about my meanness before you punch a classmate," I said,
grinning as I pulled the comforter off of her and grabbed the pillow away from
her. "Now get up and get ready, I'll buy you breakfast on the way in to
work."
I left her to get
ready as I prepped our lunches and dressed myself. Normally, I wore clothing
that was designed to hint at the fact that I was the boss, but that were also
practical in the warehouse. Today, I dressed with a little more care than
normal and pulled on a bright colored dress over my usual leggings and boots. I
needed the protection of the steel toes, so there was really no way around
them, but I swiped on a layer of mascara before dabbing on a little lipstick
and considering myself in the mirror. I ran a hand through my hair and wondered
for the millionth time whether I should just chop it all off.
The long, dark
curls were my pride and joy, and combined with my bright blue eyes, they earned
me the identity of one of the Black Irish. My mother had told me that legend
had it that her people had originated with the arrival of the Spanish Armada
and that the dark hair and light eyes were the result of the mix of those folks
with the fair Irish folk of the upper isle. I wasn't sure how much of her tale
to believe, but as a child, I loved the idea that my curls came from one side
of the family and my eyes, the other.
Right now, I was
tempted to pull out the scissors and lop off the curls since they refused to
behave in any reasonable manner. But I thought better of it and simply gathered
the mass in a clip that lifted it off of my face and would be easy to adjust
during the day. If I were honest, I'd admit that I wanted Jack to be able to
run his fingers through my hair if he kissed me again, and the clip was easily
removed. I blushed as I thought about it, but then let the notion go as I
walked to Riley's room.
"I don't
wanna go, Leah," she pouted as she slowly packed her backpack full of
books and games. "Why can't I stay here with Gran?"
"Because I
need you to come with me today," I said cheerfully, avoiding the
explanation of why Mama was not someone I felt safe leaving her with anymore.
"I'm going to have a busy day at the office, and I need a helper."
"Aren’t there
laws against child labor?" she grumbled. "I don't think this is
legal."
"Don't worry,
I'm not going to have you do anything too terribly taxing," I said as I
handed her a pair of hiking boots I'd found in the front closet.
"Why do I
have to wear these? Can't I wear tennis shoes?" she whined. I knew that
she was upset about being suspended and that the change in routine was
something a little scary, so I stayed calm and waited it out.
"Nope, you
have to wear sturdy shoes in the warehouse," I said pointing down at my
work boots. "If something falls on your foot, it needs to be covered. Put
the boots on, and let's get going! I want to stop at Stan's Donuts on the
way!"
"Donuts for
breakfast?" she asked hopefully. "Can I have a chocolate one?"
"You can have
whatever you want, but we have to be on time! So let's get a move on,
lady!" I said as I moved into the kitchen, grabbing the lunches I'd packed
for us, and my purse. I peeked into the living room, saw that Mama was still
sleeping, and breathed a sigh of relief. This would be easier if we didn't have
to confront each other. I'd given Patrick a set of keys the night before, so I
knew he'd be able to get into the house when he was ready.
As I shooed Riley
out of the house so we could make the train on time, I turned and looked back
at the front door, knowing that soon we'd be moving away. My heart felt heavy,
but I knew Patrick was right. Riley and I couldn't be dragged down into Mama's
hell. I had to find a way to get us out and onto a path that would lead toward
something better.
I just wished
Mama—and Molly—could join us.