Текст книги "In a Bad Way"
Автор книги: Karin Tabke
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Chapter Eleven
Izzy sat quietly in the back of the black suburban next to Flynn. He’d called an Uber and it whisked them from the low-rent district of Oakland into the exclusive Piedmont hills. She’d grown up here, and as they wound their way up Rte.13, her stomach began to feel a little queasy.
“I thought you said you lived off your salary?” she asked him. Piedmont was not for paupers or government workers.
“I do, but I bought a house first.”
The SUV pulled up before a 1920s classic three-story house on an old tree-lined street. As they walked up the sidewalk, she said, “I grew up two streets down on Bellevue.”
“What happened?”
“You know I was kicked out.”
“I meant what happened after that?”
“Oh, you mean why did I grow up in a five-million-dollar house and turn out to be a cocktail waitress and retired stripper?”
As he inserted the key into the door, he turned the lock and opened it. He held out his arm for her to enter before him. Loudly exhaling, she did. This was a mistake. She should have let him walk this morning. Oh, heck she should have kicked him out last night before—
“Having second thoughts?”
She’d been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t realized her internal dialogue was playing out on her face. Her mother had always told her she could never hide what she was thinking or feeling. “Yes.” Why lie? “Look, I really like you.” An understatement. “I like being with you.” Bigger understatement. “I like everything about you.” Total truth. “Except the fact that you can’t get past what I do for a living.” Very true and a deal breaker for a man like Special Agent Flynn A. Ryker.
“I like you, too. A lot.”
He took her bag and set it down on the black, polished marble. The place was amazing. Black and white with just a hint of gray. But there was no warmth. “This place reminds me of a mausoleum.”
“Well, thanks.” He slid his hands into his back trouser pockets and for a moment seemed as uncomfortable as she was. “Believe it or not, this used to be a federal safe house, then a crash pad for a bunch of us single guys working task forces. It was a turnstile front door. Then one day, there was just me. Uncle Sam was making deep budget cuts, and they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I happen to like the clean, no-nonsense lines.”
“It’s emotionless. Like it’s trying to hide what’s beneath.” She quirked a brow. “Kind of like the guy who owns it.”
“You’ve known me less than twenty-four hours and you have me figured out?”
“Yup.” She took a few steps through the wide circular foyer, looking up and down and all around. It was beautiful, but dead to her. “A few living things, like a plant, and a little color to jazz the place up would be nice,” she said, walking down the wide entryway to the back of the house, which boasted a long wall of French doors leading to a verdant backyard.
“Let me guess, some pink flowers or pots?”
“Maybe a few.”
“I’ve never been much of a fan of pink until last night.”
He walked with her to the windows and to the right was a huge black-and-white marble five-star kitchen.
“Wow.”
“I don’t use it often.”
She turned around and looked up at him to find him staring quietly at her. “What?”
His brows furrowed for a quick second before they smoothed out. “I’m having a hard time with the Surf’s Up part of you.”
Not good enough for a Ryker? Would she be good enough if she told him she had graduated summa cum laude from Cal last year and had been accepted to Stanford Law School? Why couldn’t he accept her for who she was, not what she’d done? “Get over it. It’s not like you have to take me home to meet the fam.” She moved into his space. Without touching him, she leaned into him and said softly. “I give us two weeks tops. You’re a big boy; you can hang with my job that long, can’t you?”
His eyes narrowed as his hands slid down her arms. “Yeah, I suppose I can.”
“Good, now pack your big boy bag and let’s get this show on the road.”
“C’mon upstairs while I put a bag together.”
“I’ll stay down here.” She didn’t want to familiarize herself with anything as personal as his bedroom. It was going to be hard enough, when the time came, not to remember every second of every minute they spent together; she didn’t want to see his bed and think of him in it with another woman when she was long gone.
“I won’t bite.”
Melancholy for what would come to be the best few weeks of her life began to set in before it had barely begun. “I kind of hoped you did.”
He laughed and moved past her. “I said I won’t, not that I don’t.”
Ten minutes later he was back down and she bit her bottom lip and shook her head. He’d changed into a pair of worn, blue jeans, shocking blue polo shirt that matched his eyes perfectly, and casual leather and canvas shoes. He had a distressed brown leather duffle bag slung over his shoulder and Maui Jims riding the top of his forehead.
“Let’s go.” He led her through the house to the garage door. When he turned the light on, she whistled. Not one but three cars and two motorcycles shone brightly beneath the fluorescent lights. They were immaculate. A black Denali SUV, a white Lexus sedan, and a really sexy vintage Corvette. “What year is that?” she asked, pointing to the cherry bomb red convertible.
“Sixty-four Stingray.” He opened the passenger door. “We can take it if you want.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Where’s your surfboard going to go?”
He grinned as he took her bag and tossed it into the small backseat along with his, and then helped her in. “That was just a ploy to get you to spend the day with me.”
“So you don’t surf?”
“I do, just not today.”
He closed the door, then walked over to an immaculate workbench and withdrew a set of keys from a hidden drawer. He slid in the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, and turned it. The car rumbled to life beneath her.
She started and he grinned a bright Hollywood smile. Magically, the garage door opened, he expertly shifted and maneuvered the powerful car out of the tight confines, and before she knew it, they were roaring across the San Mateo Bridge. For once Izzy put her worries and woes of finding Alex aside. She was doing all she could and now she had help.
Today Izzy would focus on herself. It was a beautiful clear sunny day and she was sitting next to the sexiest man on the planet, who thought she was pretty hot herself. Today, life was good. She raised her hands like she would on a roller coaster and laughed out loud shouting her happiness at the top of her lungs. Flynn smiled and laughed at her antics. When she was done acting crazy, he grasped her left hand and placed it on the gearshift, where he rested his hand on top of hers.
Warmth infused her skin where he touched. Swallowing hard, she was glad she was wearing sunglasses. He might see the schoolgirl crush look in her eyes and dump her over the bridge into the bay. Geez, she was such a sucker for a hot guy. Like mother, like daughter.
But what a guy.
They were riding fast and topless. It was the most exhilarating ride of her life. Flynn handled the high-performance vehicle beautifully and even at the high speeds they drove, she had complete confidence in his driving skills. It was a beautiful March afternoon. Clear skies and sunny. It would be cooler once they came down through the foothills to the ocean. Hopefully there would be no lingering fog. She wasn’t sure what he had in mind and she decided she didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Being with him was electrifying. This was a rare “do nothing” day for her. Between school, her research assistant job, and working at Surf’s Up, she barely had time to sleep, much less take a sorely-needed day off. Professor Gamble was gone on his annual lecture circuit until the end of June. That ate at her income, and despite the club taking the majority of her tip money, she made a decent wage there. She’d work more than the three nights she was regularly scheduled, but the club was only open four nights a week and she had to fight for each shift.
As they slowed at the end of Rte. 92 coming into the small ocean town of Half Moon Bay, named for its half-moon-shaped bay, Izzy smoothed her bangs from her face and smiled at Flynn. “That was amazing.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the ride.”
“I really did. You drive like a pro.”
“I am. Lots of pursuit training and hands-on experience over the years.”
“I keep forgetting you’re a cop.” She leaned over and patted his chest down. “Are you packing heat?”
He smiled and pulled her hand over into his lap. His erection was on the rise. “Yeah, I’m packing some heat.”
When Flynn pulled over into a small shopping center parking lot and put the car in Park, laughing Izzy unhooked her seatbelt, leaned over and looped her arms around his neck, feeling as carefree as a little girl. “I love how you’re always ready for some game.” She kissed him. A big, fat, juicy kiss. When she pulled away, he pulled her back to him.
“I like kissing you.”
She swallowed and nodded, suddenly feeling very hot and nervous. “I like kissing you, too.”
“How many men have you kissed?”
“A few.”
“How many?”
“Including you, three.”
“Liar.”
“It’s true! The other two didn’t get any further than first base, either.”
He laughed. “First base?”
“Yeah, making out. How many women have you kissed?”
“Too many to count.”
“Figures.”
“But none the way I kiss you.”
“How do you kiss me?”
“Like I mean it.” He gave her a quick kiss and said, “Put your seatbelt back on. I know the perfect make-out place.”
She scowled doing as he said. “I don’t want to go there if you’ve made out with someone else there.”
Grabbing her hand, he put his over hers on the gearshift again and put the car into gear. “You’ll be the first.”
Chapter Twelve
They drove up Highway 1 to the Beach House Hotel. Flynn pulled in front of the sprawling building, put the car in park and pocketed the keys, then hopped out. He was around to her side of the car and opening her door before she could reach for the handle. Pulling her from the low-slung car, Flynn reached behind her, and grabbed their bags. He handed them off to the attendant as he tossed him the keys and, with her on his arm, strode into the hotel like he owned the place. The open-air concept lovely in its subtle opulence.
In minutes they were shown to a beach-view suite. The bellhop brought in their bags and opened the slider to the terrace as he explained the many amenities the establishment had to offer. The cool ocean air blew the translucent gauzy curtains into the room. Izzy stepped out, inhaling the fresh cleanness of the salt-tinged air. It was a spectacular view. Blue ocean as far as the eye could see, lazy waves crashing against the white sand beach below.
She felt Flynn’s presence behind her. He pulled her back into his arms and she stood with her back to him and together they stared at the sparkly blue Pacific. The way the sun hit the tips of the waves as they built reminded her of the fireflies back east. There had been many Chastain family trips back east. As the nanny, Izzy’s mom was always required to accompany the family. Mrs. Chastain had allowed Izzy to tag along because she and Alex were like two peas in a pod growing up. Inseparable up to the very last minute.
Izzy shook her head. Mrs. Chastain treated her mother like a beast of burden on those trips. But momma never minded. Now Izzy knew why. She was willing to endure the humiliation to be close to the man she loved until her dying breath.
Izzy knew she should be happy right here in this minute, but sadness moved through her. In so many ways, she felt like she was following in her mother’s footsteps. Madly attracted to a powerful man from a distinguished family, who gladly took what she was offering. Then what? When he was done, would Flynn cast her aside, like her father had her mother? That’s exactly what would happen, but Izzy was smarter than her mother. She knew the score up front. This amazing man would never commit to a woman who stripped, past, present or future. Regardless of her motives. She had to be okay with that. She was okay with it because she was fine with the bikini clad cocktail server role. It was no big deal really. Guys could look all they wanted. But she drew the line at touching. The stripping part? The only reason she agreed to do it was to get information on Alex, but the moment she saw Flynn, her motives switched from grudging acceptance straight into fully engaged. She wanted to seduce Flynn. For herself, not Andre or her sister.
It was also, she supposed, her subconscious way of flipping her father off. Yeah it was fucked-up stuff, but there it was.
“You like?” he asked.
How could she not? “It’s beautiful.”
“One of my favorite views.”
“You’ve been here before?” Ugh, why did she sound like a jealous girlfriend?
“Several times.”
She stiffened. Is this where he brought all of his conquests? No wonder he walked with such authority through the place.
He laughed and turned her around. “Weddings, Pink. And I always went stag.”
Feeling ridiculous, she let out a long breath and looked up at him for a serious moment. “I need to get something off my chest.”
He wagged his brows and shot back, “You can get your chest off on me any time.”
While she loved their back-and-forth repartee, she was trying to be serious for a minute. He didn’t understand that this wasn’t easy for her and he needed to. Being with him like this, when she’d never even been on a date before. “Seriously, Flynn, I’m confused and a little afraid.”
“I think I’ve been pretty straightforward, Pink. You have absolutely no reason to be afraid of me.” He pulled her close and inhaled the scent of her. “I would never hurt you.”
“Not intentionally.”
She pushed out of his embrace and turned to face the less scary waves. “I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours and I’ve done more with you than I have with any man in my life, probably more than I ever will. After the crazy sex, you cooked breakfast for me, bought me a phone, then we decided to become fuck buddies. I go to your house, and next thing I know, we’re here in a very expensive hotel suite on the beach to have sex.” She shrugged and turned around to find his blue eyes intently watching her. “It’s too much, too fast. I feel like it’s blowing me off course.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
Not on your life. Though if she were as smart as she thought she was, she should be running back over the foothills. “Yes—no! I don’t know! I just…I feel like my plans are taking a backseat to my lust-induced infatuation with you and it scares me. Because what if I get so caught up in you I lose sight of what I need to do?”
“What do you need to do?”
“Find my sister. Survive.”
“There’s nothing you personally can do about your sister until you go back to work. I’ve got calls out and my people are gathering information. As soon as I have something concrete, I can help you. As far as surviving, you’re doing that right now, here with me. Take this time to recharge your batteries.”
She put her hand on her hip and cocked a knee. “You call what we do recharging? I’ll need a week to recuperate if tonight is anything like last night!”
A smile cracked his lips. “Look, I admit this is all a lot and a lot fast. If it makes you feel less stressed, this is a first for me, too. I’ve never actually slept with a woman or had a morning after of any kind with anyone I’ve been intimate with. In that respect you popped my cherry, too.” He tousled her pink bangs. “I’ve never been interested in a woman long enough to go a second round, much less four. So ease up on yourself. I’m right there with you in the 'too much too fast’ feeling.”
Warmth fizzed through her. Maybe there was hope for them after they found Alex. Pressing her head into his chest, Izzy stood quietly contemplative. When she looked up at this man who twisted her up inside like a pretzel, she bit her bottom lip to keep her breath in check. Flynn’s deep blue eyes reflected the churning ocean behind her. Dangerously beautiful.
“I want to strip you down, bend you over this railing and plow into you right now,” he said so softly she thought she might have misheard. But the firm set of his full lips and the way his mesmerizing eyes swept across her parted lips told her she’d heard him exactly as he intended.
Her nipples pebbled as she envisioned him doing just that. Running her fingers through her hair, she cocked her head to the side and smiled. “I think I might like that.”
She about came right where she was standing when his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared like he was a big hungry jungle cat who had just locked in on its prey.
The thought of standing out here under the late afternoon sun as the waves crashed before her and the sexiest man on the planet rocked her world was beyond scandalous. Barely able to regulate her breath, Izzy turned on her heels toward the balustrade railing and looked to either side of their deck. The curtains were drawn on the rooms to either side. The beach below bustled with a fair amount of beachgoers, but they were focused on themselves, not the hotel goings-on, so they were relatively secluded.
As she turned back around to face him, she slid her hands along the railing and raised a knee, trailing the wedge sole of her shoe along the balustrade behind her. The wind tossed her short hair around her face, and the seagulls screeched off in the distance. “I’m not wearing any panties,” she confessed. Watching the passion imprint on his handsome face, passion for her, knocked the breath from her lungs. Never had she dreamed of being desired the way Flynn desired her.
The same could be said for her. She’d spent the last decade consciously keeping men out of her life equation, clueless that this kind of attraction existed.
All these years she had thought her mother a weak, hopeless romantic. If what she shared with her father was anything like the crazy magnetism between her and Flynn, then Izzy understood. Completely.
She turned around, and then did a slow grind against the railing. It was her signature move when she set drinks down and she gasped when Flynn’s big body pressed into her back, and his hands slid down her arms to her waist.
Her heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of him taking her from behind causing her knees to shake. Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip to keep the moan from sliding out. Every part of her body sparked to life, eager for what he would do to her.
“I didn’t bring you here just for sex, Pink,” he said.
Her eyes popped open. Whaat? No, she wasn’t going to let him make her believe there was something more to them than this. No matter what he said, she knew men would say anything to get what they wanted. That she wanted the same thing as Flynn made it easy. Her walls were high, though. Starting the night her life had changed forever, thirteen years ago, Izzy had been painstakingly erecting them and she was not going to allow her lust for this man to knock them down so easily. “It’s the only reason I came,” she said. It was a half lie. She came for the sex, but more than that she came because he fascinated her. That part of the equation she needed to remove. The caring part. The aching, yearning part.
He chuckled. “Oh, you’re going to come all right.” He slid his right hand down the backside of her hip to her ass cheek, then to the back of her thigh. “Your skin is so soft.” His hand skimmed beneath her skirt and along her bare bottom. “You have a world-class ass.”
Finding it difficult to breathe, Izzy moved her feet farther apart to give him greater access to her. If he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to take matters into her own hands. He caught her earlobe in his lips and sucked it into his mouth as his left hand trailed down her belly to the front of her skirt. He pressed the heel of his palm to her mound, making her lose her balance.
“Steady, baby doll, I don’t want you to fall.” His deep husky voice stoked the ache building deep inside her.
“I already have,” she moaned, closing her eyes as his hands moved with excruciating slowness over her body. His right hand slipped around to the front of her thigh. When his fingertip stroked her sensitive clit, she bit her bottom lip, then swore up a blue streak. “Fuck you, Special Agent Ryker. Fuck you and what you do to me. Goddamn, it feels good.”
“Such a potty mouth,” he chastised, proceeding to slide his fingertip down the front of her, along her swollen seam. “So wet.” When she moved in an attempt to grind on his hand, he slid it down the inside of her thigh.
“Flynn,” she moaned. “Please.”
“Patience, baby doll, patience.”
Pressing his knee between her thighs, he gently parted them wider. “Heat is coming off your pussy in waves,” he whispered against her ear. “Your sex smells like an exotic flower. Musk with a hint of bubble gum.” Heat snaked low in her belly at his words. “I love how you are always so ready for me.”
When she reached back to touch him, Flynn grasped her hand and placed it back on the railing. To make sure she kept it still, he didn’t remove his hand. His left hand trailed to her hot spot and gently stroked it until she couldn’t catch her breath. “Please, Flynn,” she begged, “I need you inside me, now.” His breathing had grown heavier, but his hand stayed the slow steady course, gradually turning up the heat, one tortuous caress at a time. When he moved his hand back around to her ass cheek, she sobbed, and pressed her pelvis against the edge of the railing. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. In a slow languid swirl, his tongue traced the outer shell of her ear.
“Do you know what I love the most about touching you?” he asked.
“No,” she breathed, wishing he’d touch more of her and fast.
“The way you respond. Like you can’t get enough.”
“I can’t,” she admitted. “I might never get enough.” She knew it was true.
His teeth scraped along her neck beneath her ear, and then he bit her. Not too hard, but hard enough that it sent wild pulses of heat rushing through her body. “I told you I could bite.” He bit lower, his tongue soothing the sting. “I just want to consume every inch of you, Pink. Hide you from the world and keep you all to myself.”
His words stirred something deep inside her. She knew he meant them. Now anyway. Tomorrow might be different. She wasn’t going to think about tomorrow right now. Right now she was going to take all of the very special, Special Agent Flynn A. Ryker she could, because she knew she would never, at least in this lifetime, meet another man who made her feel the way he made her feel.
“If someone would have bet me a million dollars last night that I’d be standing with you right here right now, about to do to you what I’m about to do, I would have lost.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought my type was tall, classic, well-mannered, brunettes. Not curvy, petite, potty-mouthed, pink-tipped-haired blondes.”
“Potty-mouthed blondes have more fun,” she shot back.
“Indeed.”
She cried out when he slid a finger into her, then bit her lip before the entire beach looked up and saw what had her so hot and bothered. “You own me every time I touch you,” he admitted. His right hand slid around to the front of her skirt where he slipped beneath it and caught her hard clit between his index and middle fingertips. In a slow deep cadence, he fingered her pussy as his other hand stroked and plucked her bowstring tight.
Unable to collect adequate breath, Izzy struggled for composure. He was all around her, torturing her with his slow, sensual assault. His body heat scorched her, his erection dug into her back. White-knuckled, she grasped the railing. Bowing her back to give him greater access, she pressed her head into his shoulder.
“On your toes, baby doll,” he said huskily. She stood up on the tips of her toes in her wedges. As she moved higher into him, his lips caught the side of her jaw. She turned harder and their lips caught and in a slow wild burn they melded together. He kissed her so deeply, so thoroughly, and so slowly, that the wild feral ache he had created inside her began to careen out of control.
Simply put, he wrecked her. The deep satisfied sounds that rose from deep in his chest as he kissed her stoked her passion fires to blazing. Abruptly he broke the kiss, and slid his hands from her. “Flynn,” she cried. “Please.”
He slid his hand up the back of her skirt and gently moved her forward so that she was leaning over the railing. Just as she adjusted her body to stay balanced, he filled her with his delicious length from behind. “Oh, God,” she moaned. The sensation of his warm thickness burrowing into her swollen sensitive folds overwhelmed her in its perfect storm of carnal pleasure. The power of his passion, his insatiable appetite for her, thrilled her.
“Easy, baby doll. Easy.” His hands clasped the cradle of her hips as he slowly seated himself deep inside of her. “You have the tightest little cunt.”
When he hit the core of her, her muscles spasmed, clenching and unclenching around him. An orgasm rocketed out of her, the force shaking her uncontrollably. Her arms shook, her knees gave way. Flynn’s strong arm supported her. As she peaked, he began to slowly thrust in and out of her. The power of his movement, the force of his cock hitting deep, was otherworldly, out-of-body. Fucking on the most primal of levels. No, it was mating. Their bodies hungered for each other in a sensational out-of-control primal call. She knew he felt the same by the way his hips pounded into her, and the way he held her tightly, protectively, and possessively. This thing between them, whatever it was, was cosmic and exactly how God intended man and woman to be.
“Isa,” he rasped, “I can’t stand how good you feel.”
Snaking an arm up and around the back of his neck, she tried to say his name, to tell him what he did to her, but she couldn’t do that and ride out the next orgasm that built so deep inside her that she blanched, afraid of its impact. It built with the force of a hurricane. Her body liquefied as it uncoiled, momentarily blinding her as the sharp waves hurtled against every nerve ending connected to their union.
Flynn’s arm tightened around her as his hips slammed into her. “Jesus,” he groaned and came in a wild thrusting climax. Izzy braced herself and took the brunt of his passionate release, absorbing his body heat, his semen, and his hot breath.
His hips slowed until she hung in his arms, their bodies still connected, the waves below crashing with more velocity against the beach than they had earlier. As the sun began to dip toward the horizon they continued to stand there, still connected, their comingled sex-induced fluids trickling down the inside of her thighs and she didn’t care. To her it was proof of the power they generated. Damn, she thought, if she weren’t on the pill, she bet his sperm would descend on her eggs with the force of an atom bomb.
“That,” she breathed, “was epic.”
He pulled out and moved back just enough so that he could turn her around. He perched her on the edge of the railing and moved between her parted knees. His blue eyes dark, nearly black. His handsome face softened with the afterglow of their powerful sex.
He dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her lips up to his and lightly brushed them. “I want to make love to you.”
Her lips parted and her belly did a slow nervous roll. “I want that, too.”
He smiled slowly and pressed her head to his chest and stroked her hair as he looked past her to the ocean. “How do you feel?”
“Like the luckiest girl in California.”
“I mean down there.”
“Oh, tender, but okay.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” The steady thud of his heart against her cheek served as a reminder that he was human and therefore vulnerable. Maybe as much as she was? Something had changed since the time they walked into the room and now. Though sex had brought them together, she felt as if their connection was beginning to transcend it. At least for her it was. She wanted to know everything about this man. From his favorite food to what kept him up at night. Would he share that part of him? There was only one way to find out. “What scares you?” she softly asked.
He didn’t answer immediately but when he did, his answer surprised her. “Hurting someone I love.”
Moving back she looked up into his eyes. It was like looking at the sky, they were so blue. “If you truly love someone, you accept all of them, and in that, you can’t hurt them.”
His lips quirked. “For such a youngster, that’s pretty deep stuff.”
She’d experienced a lot of heartache and hardship in her life. Sometimes she felt ancient. “I’m young, but I’ve been through a lot.”
“What scares you?”
“Not being enough.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. Damn it.
“Enough for what?”
She closed her eyes. Enough for someone not to care where she came from. Or how she came to be. To take her for who she was, warts and all. But she didn’t say it. It sounded childish to her. “Enough to take a chance on.” A partial truth.
“What happened between your parents?”
Shaking her head, Izzy exhaled and tried to shimmy off the edge of the railing, but Flynn’s arms tightened around her. “Tell me.”
Swallowing hard, she decided to tell him the truth. It’s what she wanted from him; he deserved the same from her. “My mom was the illegal Mexican housekeeper who knew all of the Chastain’s dirty secrets. She was promoted to nanny when my dad and his wife got pregnant with my half brother. But he died. And my dear father, the congressman, in his despair took gross advantage of my mother. Not once, but for years he came to her. I was the proof. I had no idea. I was told my father died before I was born. Eventually, my father’s wife put two and two together. I was eleven when she figured it out. We were kicked to the curb, my mom threatened with deportation.” Her voice hitched. “It was the second-worst day in my life. After that, Momma worked twenty-hour days, cleaning houses during the day and offices at night. From the age of eleven, I worked after school trying to contribute so she didn’t have to work so hard. She died with a damn dust rag in her hand.” Izzy laughed bitterly. “The day after she died, I took that damn rag and threw it at my father’s face and told him she was dead and he could take his threats and shove them up his ass. I told him if he ever came after me for anything, I’d tell the world what he’d done.”
