Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (75 page)

After seeing my best friend with Ainsley’s mother last night, the final pieces clicked into place and I know that the façade around the Carter’s is crumbling. Anthony can try to hold onto his home and his money, the empire he worked so hard to build, but he can’t have Ainsley. She’s never been his. Since we were kids, that girl was mine. I’ve loved her probably since I first saw her on the docks. I lost her once, and lived in that darkness for years.

I won’t fucking lose her again.

Even though I don’t want to, I slip from the bed carefully, not wanting to wake her. Grabbing my jeans from the floor, I head into the bathroom.

Once I’ve taken care of business and shoved on my jeans, I head up the hall and into the kitchen in search of my cell phone, in my backpack, on the bar. After making a few calls, I get the number that I need and dial, pacing the kitchen as it rings.

“I suspect I know where my daughter has run off to now, don’t I?” Anthony Carter’s voice echoes down the phone angrily.

“You’re a sick man, feeding us lies in an attempt to keep her under your thumb. Ainsley is finally right where she belongs and that’s where she stays,” I reply smugly, leaning back against the bar, I cross one ankle over the other. “It was her choice, Mr. Carter, I suggest you respect that.”

“Respect?” he chuckles into the phone. “Respect is earned, not given. Neither of you two deserve an ounce of anything from me, especially not respect.” I hear the chair creak in the background, letting me know he’s pushing to his feet, no doubt looking out at the perfect view of the harbor that he has from his castle. “Listen to me, James, you bring my child home. She has no idea what she wants. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be. I always get what I want, no matter the cost.”

“You manipulated us once, you’ll not fuckin’ do that again you arrogant bastard,” I roar into the phone. “Ainsley is an adult and can make her own decisions. You can’t control everyone.”

“You forget who you’re talking to,” he replies ending the call.

Tossing the phone to the bar, I slam my hand against the cabinet. “Sonuvabitch!”

“I seriously doubt the cabinet deserves the punishment,” Ainsley says from behind me, making me jump.

“No, but I don’t negotiate well with the police,” I say, turning to face her. “An assault charge is a bad idea.”

Stepping through the doorway, wearing nothing but my t-shirt, her hair a beautiful, unruly mess, Ainsley has never looked more beautiful. “Why did you call my father?”

“I wanted him to know he isn’t getting away with the lies, not anymore,” I reply pulling, her into my arms. Looking down, I brush her hair over her shoulder and place a kiss just below her ear. “I wanted him to hear it from me that I’m not going anywhere this time, no matter what he does.”

“That’s something I plan for us both to say to him, and my mother,” Ainsley’s arms wrap around my shoulders, her fingers twisting the ends of my hair. “In person.”

“I can do that,” I reply, making her smirk.

“Good, now kiss me,” she whispers against my lips. “We need to get dressed so we can go eat. You don’t have anything else here and I’m starving.”

Ainsley

Getting dressed was
an adventure. Adam would find a reason to touch me, or kiss me, and then off the clothes came again. As hungry as I was for real food, I still couldn’t have said no to Adam. He’s the one thing in this world I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of.

Dressed back in my dress from last night, minus my shredded panties, I hang on to Adam as we ride back into town on his motorcycle. The wind blows around us while the sun warms my skin, and I can’t help smiling because this feels so right. The world has been off its axis for so long that I am a bit overwhelmed to have it feeling right again.

Adam pulls into a café just inside of Kittery and shuts off the engine. “This good?” he asks as I climb off the bike carefully so that I don’t flash everyone since Adam ripped my panties last night.

“Mhm,” I reply looking up at the sign. The old green and white building is a bit run down and in need of repair, letting me know that they couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Carter Industries. I smile at the building that is a reminder that Anthony Carter doesn’t own everyone in this town and nod. “It’s perfect.”

Adam wraps an arm around me and leads me up the ramp to the front door. Stepping inside we are instantly drawn to where Sebastio sits at the bar of the diner eating breakfast. “I tell ya,” Sebastio says around a bite of food. “Fuckin’ prime. I don’t know how I’m still alive. We only came up for air long enough for me to…” His laugh fades the moment he sees us. Waving us over, his eyes assess me carefully before widening in realization. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. “Hey, Ainsley, how ya been?”

“Good, how about yourself?” I ask, swallowing around the vomit that wants to come out at the thought of who he was just talking about.

“Can’t complain,” he replies, gesturing to the empty barstools beside him. “Have a seat you two.”

Adam pulls me further into his side. “No thanks, man. We’ll catch up later. Lots to talk about,” he says clapping him on the shoulder with his free hand as he tugs me toward a corner booth on the other end of the restaurant.

“I think I threw up in my mouth,” I whisper sliding into the booth.

Adam slides in beside me and shakes his head. “Yeah, thought we’d do without that. He brags a lot about this chick he’s been fuckin’ for a while,” Adam winces and clears his throat. “Now, all those conversations are coming back to haunt me.”

“How about we order before I lose my appetite,” I say grabbing a menu. “The thought of my…” I stop myself, shaking my head with a groan. “Yeah, let’s just not.”

Once we’ve ordered, we sit in comfortable silence until our food arrives. The entire time we eat people are looking at us. At me. I don’t know how to explain it, the stares, the whispers, it irritates me. It pisses me off. I don’t understand what the problem is.

“You can tell your father we aren’t sellin’ so that he can build a goddamn shop here or another house none of us who actually live here in town can afford,” the waitress says, tossing the check down on the table. Her face is hard as she stares at me through her red rimmed glasses that match her ponytail. “He can stop sending people in here to eat and run off customers.”

My eyes meet hers, rage and confusion bubbling under the surface a long with shock at her outburst. “Ainsley doesn’t have anything to do with her father’s business propositions, Angie,” Adam interrupts, grabbing the check. “She’s here with me.”

Angie’s face softens immediately. “I’m sorry, Adam. I honestly recognized her and saw red. He’s been pushing for over a year for us to sell and it’s only getting worse. He’s doing everything in his power to cause us to go bankrupt all so he can make a profit on this property. Hell, I still think he was behind the fire that destroyed the old movie theatre. My grandfather is ninety three years old, he can’t handle this shit. This place is his blood, sweat, and tears. I’ll never sell it, no matter the price.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, pushing to my feet, anger coursing through my veins. I see fire burning through my vison. The fact that he thought he could control me, or even Adam, is one thing, but everyone in Kittery? Surely he doesn’t think this is how life is supposed to work does he? “The man’s philosophy on how the world works is fuckin’ delusional.” Turning to Angie, I smile. “I apologize, simply because he is my father. I’ve never been more ashamed to admit that than I am at this moment.”

Walking past her, I bolt out the front door into the parking lot, needing fresh air to clear my head. I barely register Adam tossing money to the table and following me out, but his voice is unmistakable when he calls my name, causing me to stop mid-step.

“Take me to the estate,” I say, turning to face him. “I want to see the look on his face when Anthony Carter finally loses.”

*

The ride is
quiet, and I know it is because Adam is giving me time to think. I haven’t quite figured out what I am going to say, but the moment we stop, the front doors swing open and Martha is out on the porch.

“Oh you’ve gone and done it now, my girl,” she chuckles when Adam stops the engine and I climb off. “Your father has been in a state ever since last night. Pacing and making calls, I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“Is he here?” I ask, stepping onto the porch.

Martha nods, “Yes, he said to tell you he’d be waiting for you in his office. Your mother has asked for me to let her know when you arrive as well, I’ll go get her.” Her eyes fix on Adam, and she smiles. Reaching up, she pats his arm. “I’m glad to see things worked themselves out.”

“Thanks,” Adam and I say in unison, and I smile at Martha.

Taking Adam’s hand, I entwine our fingers and step past Martha into the house. Everything about this house is cold and makes me feel out of place, it always has if I’m being honest. The furniture is all perfectly placed. Yet untouched and unused, all to make us appear to be above everyone else just because my parents spent more on their new sofas than most spend on a car.

Swinging open the big, heavy wooden door that leads to my father’s office, I immediately smell the scent of his cigar burning. “I see you’ve found your way home, Ainsley.” Turning in his seat, he sees Adam step up beside me, still holding my hand, and his eyes narrow. His salt and pepper hair combed back, not one strand out of place and even on a Saturday he is in a suit. “Pity you didn’t want to see things my way. Stubborn, the both of you,” he chuckles to himself.

“I’m not a puppet to be played with,” I argue. “You’re my father, you should want what’s best for me. Instead, you lied to me.”

Placing his cigar in the ashtray, he steeples his hands, the tops of his fingers tapping against his lips. “I am doing what is best for everyone. I did you a favor, years ago, getting rid of him; a favor that I see was spat back in my face.” Grabbing his cigar, he shrugs. “Do you think I’ll allow my only child to throw all I’ve worked for away? You’re so much better than this Ainsley.”

Adam’s fingers tighten around mine, I can feel the tension radiating off his body. “I already told you on the phone, old man, I’m not leaving her again.”

“Pity,” he replies pushing to his feet. My father buttons the front of his jacket as he steps around his mahogany desk. “Have you ever gotten onto your motorcycle and wondered if your brakes will fail in traffic? What about if the gas heat in your cabin is faulty?” he asks Adam and I tremble at the thought. “All the happiness in the world can be overshadowed by fear. Fear is one of those things that can cripple you and everyone around you. I’d hate that for you Adam, I really would.”

“You bastard,” Adam roars, taking a step forward. “I’m not scared of you, never have been.”

“Am I interrupting?” my mother asks, stepping into the room from the patio doors with a glass filled with what I am sure is a screwdriver. Sipping her drink, she heads to a chair beside my father’s desk. Sitting down, her eyes meet mine and flit to Adam. “I’m glad everyone is here so we can clear up a few things. I can’t say that I didn’t expect for Adam to be with you; after all, he didn’t take the money so he didn’t have to leave town. Guess you didn’t see that one coming, did you, darling?” my mother snorts before downing the rest of her glass. Placing it on the table, she looks up at me. “You’ve caused your father a lot of trouble, young lady. He’s very displeased and put out. For God’s sake, he slept at home last night for the first time in years.”

“Julia!” my father roars, slamming his hand down on his desk. “That’s enough.”

“Oh, Anthony, you don’t get to call the shots this time, darling. I’ve just gotten started.” Crossing one leg over the other, my mother grins. “It’s a shame. I mean, you can hire hits, falsify documentation, and burn down property without batting an eye, but our daughter falls in love with a man who makes less a year than the cost of your car and suddenly you’re breaking out in cold sweats.” My father’s eyes widen and my mother just laughs.

“Shut up, Julia. Think about what you’re saying and be rational. Accusations like that change everything for us,” my father says, his voice almost pleading.

“It isn’t accusations when you have the ability to back it up. You see, I didn’t like the things Ainsley said to me; they didn’t make me angry, but they hurt. That had me asking myself a lot of questions and the answers told me one thing.” My mother tosses back, her eyes meeting mine briefly before turning back on him again. “She was right.”

“Mom,” I begin. “I didn’t say those things to hurt you,” I explain, taking a step towards her. “All I wanted was for you to hear what I was trying to say.”

“Ainsley,” she stops me, holding up her hand, smiling sadly. “I never hated you, I despise the situation I was put in, always have. I filled the voids in my life with alcohol and men, instead of using what I already knew about your father to dig deeper and expose him for the horrible bastard that he is.” Turning to face my father, she shrugs. “Bet you didn’t think I was paying attention to those hushed conversations or that I wouldn’t think to look into where the money was going from my family’s trust? That’s right,” she says raising her hand to her chest. “As of today, everyone finds out that the Carter’s have been broke for years and that you’ve been living off of your wife’s trust fund until you could get Ainsley married off to Elliot. The only person this hurts is you, Anthony. The things you learn when you’re fucking a man on the side who has the ability to look into those things on a moment’s notice.”