Текст книги "Lovers and Reprisals"

Автор книги: Lori Turner

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

She couldn’t believe that these words were coming from her mouth.

“I agree.”  But she’d said the remark because it was true.  There was more than something between them and she’d felt this wonderful feeling for a long time.

“Ona...I’d like to invite you out for a meal.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner–you choose.  And I want this meal to be separate from the Conclave business that we still need to conduct.  I want to keep those two things separate.”

He wanted her to fully understand his intentions because he didn’t want any confusion on either of their parts.

Ona looked out the window, and for the first time, she noticed that the car wasn’t moving.  It had stopped because they had reached the dock.  She could see the people arriving, and orderly forming a line.  She shifted in her seat, and when she looked at Lucien, she couldn’t think of a word to describe him.  He was studying her, waiting for a response.  She needed time to think because the only words that came to mind were bible verses and writings from her Creed that disallowed romantic entanglements with Non-Samaritans.  Lucien was asking for something that was impossible but she couldn’t manage saying words that would reject him.  No part of her body wanted to spurn his advances

Ona spoke low when she said...

“I should go.  There are people from my Sect outside.”

“Ona...we can drive down the block, and you can get out there.”

That sounded like a reasonable idea but some part of her brain didn’t like the idea of lying.  She’d deceived her brothers, by not telling them about Lucien or this meeting.  Now this was her chance to come clean, by allowing members of her Sect to see her.

“No...that won’t be necessary.”

“I don’t mind Ona.  Like I said...  I know what I am asking for won’t be easy but...”

“That isn’t the reason that I suggested leaving.  I–I just don’t know what to say.”

His gaze went right through her when he said...

“Tell me that I’m wrong.  Tell me that you don’t feel the same.  Say that you don’t have any feelings for me.”

“I can’t say that.”  Her voice was lower when she said...”I won’t lie”

Lucien lifted his hand, and when he touched her face, Ona felt as if her heart would stop.  Her body was gripped by an emotion that went beyond any physical experience.  Her breaths were rapid and shallow, and she could barely breathe.  Lucien leaned forward and he pressed his lips on her forehead.  Their bodies exchanged a warmth that swelled, turning hot and enticing.  He stayed there, and when he spoke, his warm minty breath made her draw nearer.

“Ona...”  he sang her name, and a thousand violins strummed a melodious tune in her head.  What kind of enchantment was this, she wondered.  Her body rang with a brilliance unlike any other experience.

“Call me.”  He said and when he drew back, her body wobbled forward, desperately wanting the closeness again.  His finger traced a line down her face, then he said...

“You’d better get going.  I see the boat coming.”

She didn’t turn to look because she didn’t care and she didn’t know how she felt about that.  Earlier today, when Rachel had talked about Caleb and her attraction to him; Ona had wanted to tell her that to remain a part of her Sect, Caleb had to marry a Samaritan woman.  She still didn’t know why he hadn’t and as for Noah; his marriage was a foregone conclusion.  He had his eyes set on a young woman belonging to the Virginia Sect.  When she’d spoke to Rachel, Ona’s thoughts had been selfish ones, because she didn’t want her brother to leave the Sect; and if he married Rachel, that’s exactly what he would have to do.  Now, here she was, talking to Lucien, and preparing to plot and scheme to see him; and to what end?  Would they see each other until her project ended at the end of the year, or would they see each other until her parents returned?  She didn’t know because she didn’t have all the answers but she did know one thing; her heart ached when Lucien would leave and she thought about him as much as he thought about her.  And when she’d seen his sisters friend, her brain had filled with jealous thoughts.  She pulled away from him, placing her hand on the doorknob, and she chose not to look at him.  She said a mental prayer, then she asked for God’s forgiveness when she said...

“I’ll call you.”

When she stepped out of the limo, she strode across the sidewalk as light as a feather.  What manner of booster was this.  She neither knew nor cared.  Her mind and body was in another atmosphere and nothing could deflate her ascension.  To the rear of her, she could hear the limo’s engine and Lucien had not pulled away.  He was there, waiting and watching, and the knowledge of this fed another adrenaline rush.  Ona was steps from the line of people waiting to board the ferry; and among, them at the head of the line, she spotted Geff’s father.  He stared at her, as if he knew.  She chanced looking in the direction of the limo and when she spotted it, parked at the curb; she made a declaration because from here on out, there would be no turning back.  She wanted this experience.  Come what may; she would meet Lucien Delors–and nothing would stop that from happening.  When the ferry docked, her mind had been set and she’d shrugged off a life’s worth of religious studies.

**********

Chapter 14

When I first met you

Mikita stepped off the plane, and the warmth of her island home embraced her.  She had traveled the world but there was no place more inviting than her island home.  Even after all the years she’s spent away, traveling and living on the mainland in the United States; no feeling compared to this.  And those two years spent in Rome; she cringed at the memory and she forced the thought back into submission.

Mikita recalled the floor plan of the airport then she made her way to the car rental.  She chose an economy sized car because its width would fit into her mothers narrow carport.  She stuffed the trunk with her luggage, then she placed the extra bags in the backseat of the car.  She sat in the drivers seat then she pointed the car in the direction of her childhood home.  This return trip to the past was bittersweet and more than likely, according to the doctors report, this trip would be her last spent with her mother.

She drove along Queens highway, merging into a heavy flow of traffic.  Memories flooded her brain, and she wiped her cheeks of tears.  She would have no parts of wayward sorrows.  She couldn't douse every memory even though she wanted to.  Mikita's father had spent most of his days, shit-faced, ass over teakettle and he’d been irresponsible to boot.  She’d seen pictures of him, and it didn’t take much to understand what had attracted her mother.  Quinton had been a semi-pro surfer and if he wasn’t riding waves on the ocean; in his spare time, he hung out in bars, running up tabs with his groupies.  He didn’t have any ambitions–not even in his chosen sport, and according to her mother, had he paid more attention to surfing, he stood a great chance of going pro, and that’s when the endorsements really paid off.  Despite her mothers poor choice in men; thanks to her grandparents, her bad decision had been barely felt.  Mikita could say this, because when she compared her life to her mother’s; the relationship between her and Morpheus had been doomed from the start.  The only difference that applied to her father and Morpheus was that the Gustafson’s were extremely wealthy.  But money had never been a problem for her or her mother.  Mikita’s grandparents had owned one of the islands most sought after resort destinations, and thanks to their support, she and her mother had wanted for nothing.  Using money from her trust-fund; Mikita had saved enough to invest in her families company and in a short time, she’d earned a place on the board, and shortly after that, she’d earned part ownership.  Thanks to her mother’s good business sense; Mikita and her mother were independently wealthy, and their investments held promise of future growth.  Good business sense had shielded her mother and her as well.

She drove down a stretch of beach lined with resorts and condos, and her memory took her back to the past.  A time when she was just seventeen and Windermere’s beachfronts had been part new construction, beach shacks and uninhabited stretches of peach sand.  When she spotted the Coral Blue Resort, her brain sent her barreling back into the past.  More than twenty years ago.

Mikita had been walking along the shoreline wearing a sheer yellow sundress.  Her grand-poppa had been, talking to the construction workers, discussing the changes that were occurring at her families resort.  Mikita had been home-schooled most of her life and her English tutor had been teaching her about the United States of America.  Back then, she’d been a highly impressionable girl and she imagined that her impetuousness had been to blame for her current state.  Her grand-poppa had not noticed when she slipped away, entering a vacant hotel, abandoned and partially constructed.  She’d walked inside, even though she’d been instructed to remain on the beach but she had disobey, out of spite or perhaps girlish ignorance; she couldn’t say which had guided her actions.  While exploring the building, she’d gotten lost.  And when she was at the point of crying out; that’s when Morpheus had stumbled upon her.  He’d been a young representative, scouting the area for one of his family’s many companies.  He’d watched from across the street on the beach, and he’d noticed her when she entered the vacant building.  From the start, he’d been enamored by her.  He’d followed her, keeping her in his sights, but remaining hidden to her.  When she called out for help, that’s when he stepped out of the shadows.  At the time, it didn’t dawn on her, that he’d followed her inside.  Mikita had been so grateful to be found, she fawned all over him.  Then, like most things do; one thing led to another.  After he led her out and back onto the beach, she joined up with her grand-poppa, hiding a business card with a phone number in her hand.  Later that evening, she’d called the number, and she couldn’t recall if it had been his English accent or his mature sophistication; whatever it was about him that intrigued her, she found herself agreeing to sneak away from her home to meet him.  She traveled across the Island, going to a point that was known for its large palatial estates.  When she arrived, she couldn’t believe the size of the property and at every turn something astonishing would catch her eye.  She had not been prepared to entered that kind of world and her naiveté made her ripe for the pickings.  Morpheus charmed her with an array of erotic delicious meals; pleasing to the eye, and known for heightening sexual urges.  Each dish was a delicacy and at times, he would reach across the table to hand feed her.  She had not needed any prodding because her body naturally leaned in to be closer to him.  She’d brazenly stared at him, enthralled by his dark handsome Italian features.  There had been no talk of age, or permission.  He’d called his staff, then rattled off a vintage of wine, speaking in fluent Italian.  He’d filled their glasses repeatedly, and she didn’t turn down his offers.  She could still recall the bitter sweet taste of the wine, and the way the fermented grapes made her feel.  She could even remember the sound of the music, softly flowing throughout the houses speaker system.  If she could have bottled the moment, she would have and she had relived that day a thousand times, even though Bolden had been the only good thing that came from that time.  While the music played, Morpheus had stood, and he guided her to stand in front of him.  He had snaked his arms around her narrow waist, then he pulled her body close to dance with him.  The smell of his musk and the feel of his rock hard body had been all to much for a young impressionable girl.  Her brain screamed at her to go, but her feet wouldn’t run for the door.  She had lifted her eyes, and her gaze got caught in his web.  He lowered his head, and she parted her lips, welcoming his tongue.  She remembered the touch and feel of his silky thick black hair.  She had run her fingers through the strands, and this action had been no different than tossing gasoline on a flaming bonfire.  She couldn’t say with any degree of certainty which event preceded the other because shortly after she’d raked her fingers in his hair; Morpheus had lifted her off the ground.  He deepened the kiss, charming and seducing her, until they ended up in his bedroom.  She remembered dark rich colors and a large open space.  And the bed; she’d never seen anything larger than his bed.  He’d been eleven years older than her and the entire affair had been hot, sexy and a first for Mikita.  It was also supposed to be a secret–one that she would keep to herself.  That summer, before her mother found out about her dating a much older man, Mikita had met Morpheus at one of her favorite places.  The spot wasn’t a great tourist attraction, because at the time, it had not been all that easy getting there.  Usually, she would wear pants, but on this trip, she’d wore a long sheer white dress, to please Morpheus.  They had spent five wonderful weeks together and he was due to leave in two days.  White had been his favorite color and she wore the dress because she wanted him to take a special memory with him.  When she walked through the trees and he caught sight of her; he rushed at her so fast, he nearly took her breath away on impact.  They had stumbled backwards, ending up beneath a cascading flow of water.  While the waterfall drenched them, Morpheus had ripped off her dress, then he’d peel out of his own clothing.  The island air had been hot and wanting and her nearness had sent him to a place that even he couldn’t make peace with.  He had told her that he didn’t want to leave her, and then there was her age to consider.  She was seventeen–not old enough to make decisions without consulting her mother.  He spoke his doubts, while pressing her into the rock surface, then penetrating her with an all consuming force that tore her insides.  They clung to each other on that day, and when they walked down the hill; she wore his shirt because her dress had not resembled the outfit she’d arrived in.  They stood near his car, and that’s when she told him.  That’s when she said the two words that altered the course of her life.

“I’m late.”

After hearing that, he didn’t leave as planned, and her mother and grand parents had been their next stop.  Many hearts had been broken on that day.  She had begged her mother not to call the police and Morpheus promised that he would take care of her and his child.  It had taken weeks of persuading and she was certain that her tiny puffed out belly had given her mother pause.  On the next day, she packed her clothes and left the Island with Morpheus.  The plan had been to return to Bermuda after the birth of their child.  They would have a wonderful beach wedding, and her entire family would join in on the celebration.  That had been the plan–but that wasn’t what had happened.  Mikita’s cousin had joined her on the mainland to be with her during the birth of her baby.  Alexis, had even stayed in one of the guest rooms; the same room that she found her cousin and Morpheus, carelessly making love; and only weeks had passed since the birth of her son.  She’d just been eighteen, alone and away from her family.  The humiliation had been beyond anything she would ever experience in her life.  That had been a difficult time, and when she’d made up her mind to leave Morpheus; she’d left his home, taking their son Bolden without once looking back.  Her mother had reminded her that she didn’t need his money and that she would be better off living on her own.  And she did live without him, or his outlandish grand offers to win her back.  His betrayal had forced her to grow up, and be the woman she’d been destined to be, and after the tears dried, and her hatred for him didn’t sicken her stomach; Mikita accepted some of his offerings.  She’d done this because acknowledging him had been the wise thing to do.  Also, she did it to overt his seedier traps.  Then, there had been her run in with Camilla.  The mother of his daughter.  The woman Morpheus had neglected to tell her about.  The woman who’d threatened to kill her, if she didn’t take her scrawny ass back to the islands.  Mikita recalled that day, because that’s when she’d caught her first sight of Fawn and oh what a mess of a day that had been.  She sighed because she’d been so trusting, and Morpheus had played her for a fool.  She closed her eyes when the car came to a stop and it didn’t pass her notice, that she’d relived that part of her life during the entire drive.  But she could put that all behind her because she was at her mothers home.  For now she could escape from the reality of her life.  Here on her island home, she could pretend that she wasn’t considering certain offers that came from an extremely dangerous and powerful man.  A person who’d intrigued her when she’d been just seventeen–and still managed to send her off balanced.

She stared into darkness, shaking her head, and wondering why her cousin’s had not changed the blown out bulb in her mother’s carport.  Over the years, it had been instances like this that fed her worry.  She’d begged her mother to come to Colorado and live with her.  She opened the door, and was met by a comfortable cool heat.  The perfect temperature for skinny dipping.  When she stood, she turned at the sound of her name.

“Mikita?”

She heard the voice but in this surrounding, it didn’t compute with her brain.

Morpheus came out of the shadows, and his face was lit by a partially exposed moon.  He met her surprised expression with a smile.  His voice sounded rested, almost as if he’d been here for days, or had arrived hours ahead of her.  He rounded the car, joining her where she stood, stunned.

He said...

"When I learned that Ernestine was ill, I had to come and see her."

Behind him, she heard the sound of feet, padding across a wooden deck.  Her mother turned on two exterior lights, and with the illumination came clarity.  Mikita's mother glared at her when she said...

"And you waisted money on airfare when you could have flown here for nothing on his airplane."

It goes without saying, during the passage of years, Morpheus had repaired the rift between him and her mother.  In fact, she never spoke an ill word about him.  Mikita closed the drivers side door.  She moved passed Morpheus, then made her way up the path to hug her mother.  She was frail; and she’d lost more weight–and as small as she was, she couldn’t afford to lose another ounce.

Mikita flashed a strained smile.

"Momma."

She spoke in a manner that expressed a duel meaning.  She didn’t mind that Morpheus had been forgiven; even after the way that he treated her.  But she’d wanted to spend this time alone with her mother.  When they were standing toe to toe, her mother’s mouth curled into a smile, while she admired the woman that Mikita had become.  They hugged, and she could feel ribs protruding beneath her mother’s dress.  She began to imagine this visit in expanses of time.  The idea of losing her mother was more than she could bear, so she bit her lower lip, to focus on physical pain, and not the tears that were there but she didn’t allow to flow.

In her island accent, her mother said...

"So–my darling girl, are you hungry?”

She wasn’t, but you never say that you aren’t hungry in her mother’s presence.  Mikita pulled back, then she stared into her mom’s brown eyes.  She would cherish these moments because these would be their last.  She lied, when she said...

“I’m starving”

The women stepped apart, then Ernestine said...

“Dinner will be ready soon.”  She wiped her face, and it wasn’t until then that she’d noticed that her mother had been crying.  She’d been so immersed in her own anguish, she hadn’t consider how difficult this time must be for her mom.

Ernestine said...

“I need to freshen up a bit, so don’t you worry about me.  You two stay out here on the porch.  Look at the sea and the moon–enjoy the atmosphere.”

Mikita said...

“Mom...isn’t there something that I can do to help with dinner?”

“No, no child.  You don’t need to worry about that.  I just need a little time to myself.  But I'm sure there are matters that you and my grandson’s father need to discuss."

With that said, Ernestine ambled across the porch, disappearing inside of the house.

When they were alone, Morpheus said....

"Are you staying here with your mom or are you staying at your house?"

She still didn't know how to register his presence.  While driving here, she had not prepared herself to see Morpheus standing on her mother’s deck.

She considered him and his crisply creased expensive outfit.  Where was she staying, indeed; this was her thought when she finally answered him.

"I've prearranged for my home to be put in a readiness but after seeing momma...."

She didn’t have to say the rest because he’d been surprised as well.  Four months ago, Ernestine had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of pancreatic cancer; one of the worse cancer’s with an unbelievable mortality rate.  His only surprise was that Mikita had not shared this knowledge with him and he didn’t know why.  They were quiet, and his face took on a stony expression and she couldn’t rightly call his mood

She said...

“Where are you staying?”

He looked out at the beach when he said...

“When I arrived, Ernestine told me that you were coming and that I could use one of her spare bedrooms.”

“Did you accept her offer?”

He wondered what would annoy her more; if he stayed under the same roof as her, or that he’d told her mother that he was trying to win her back.

Morpheus pointed to a porch swing, gesturing for her to join him there.  She paused for a moment, but she saw no reason to reject his suggestion.  They sat, and he started a slow rhythmic sway.  As he did this, she questioned if she could ever sell her childhood home.

Morpheus said...

“I told your mother that perhaps I should wait until you arrived before I say anything.  Actually, when I phoned to talk to her, she’d downplayed her health issues.  She didn’t tell me the extent of her illness and when I arrived, I was shocked to see her in her current state.  Mikita–you should have told me.”

She lowered her eyes, because she couldn’t bear the weight of his disappointment, and in her shame, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears.  She tried to stay in control, but with each passing second, she could feel herself being sucked away, like sand being forced out to sea by the tide.  She couldn’t hide her grief.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around her shoulder, and he drew her close to his side.  She sniffled when she said...

“I have to be strong for her.  I can’t let her see me crying.”

“It’s all right you know.  Ernestine expects you to cry.  You don’t have to pretend with her.  She’s your mother and she wants to take care of you.”

“But I’m here to take care of her.”

“You will take care of her–but in the mean time, allow your mom to be the mother.  Don’t take that away from her.  Give her what she needs now.  Let her take care of you for a change.”

She understood, but she didn’t know if she could pull it off.  Morpheus said...

“Mikita–tell me what you want me to do.  I’ll stay here to be with you, or I can go.”

He should go.  That was her first thought, then when the door to the house swung open, she wiped her face like a crazed two year old, who didn’t have a handkerchief.

Mikita jumped off the swing, like a soldier coming to attention.  Her mother smiled, and she rightly assumed what had occurred before she’d interrupted them.

“You can come to dinner now.”

She didn’t give them any other options.  Ernestine walked back inside of the house, and before they reached the door, Mikita grabbed his arm, turning him to face her.

She said...

“I didn’t tell you because I felt that momma needed me.  Just me and nobody else.”

He nodded, then he said...

“But what about you?  What do you need?”

She lifted her chin, and his strength eclipsed every reservation.  She didn’t try to restrain her behavior because it would have been a hollow effort.  Morpheus would always be the only man that she loved and it didn’t surprise her when she chucked all reason to the wind.

“Tell me the truth Morpheus.  What happened between you and Cindy.  Did she have a miscarriage, or did something else happen?  I only ask because...”

She couldn’t finish her sentence because saying the obvious was to frightening.  There were two sides to Morpheus; the business man, and another man with a proclivity that leaned towards unscrupulous activities.  He could be kind and ruthless all in the same breath, but before they moved forward she resolved that their couldn’t be any hidden secrets between them.

Morpheus spoke low when he said...

“Cindy was a mistake–and I think she knew this.”

He took a breath and she had to strain to hear him, because he was speaking even lower than before.

“I can’t say how, why or when it happened; I only know that Cindy lost the baby.  I got word through a mutual acquaintance and I chose not to ask questions because nothing could be gained and the baby was already dead.”

He appeared genuinely grieved and she hadn’t intended to make him suffer while reliving the memory.  She clasped their hands, then she squeezed his fingers when she said...

“Stay.”

And that was that.  He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, and he knew that he would stay on the island as long as Mikita wanted and needed him.  Morpheus pushed his other worries aside.  His thoughts concerning Tollin and Joplin weren’t going anywhere, and he would deal with those concerns when the time was right.  For now, he would pledge himself to Mikita–the woman that he loved.   The woman who possessed his heart.

**********

Chapter 15

Let’s take a chance

Ona wandered down a busy block, scanning the area for members belonging to her Sect.  She was in the city on a weekend, without a purpose that would explain this excursion.  Samaritans lived in self-contained communities and there really wasn’t a need to leave, unless the reason concerned their community project.  Her vigilance had been so intense because her program wasn’t open on the weekends.  She neared the corner where Lucien had suggested she wait, she could see a black car with tinted windows.  She hurried her pace, not wanting to remain out in the open one-second longer than was necessary.  When she’d contrived this idea, her thoughts had been sketchy and she had not outlined every detail.  Most of her life, she lived in the moment, and this way of living was a byproduct of a lifetime spent helping others, and rarely considering her needs.  Regardless of how this journey came about, when she’d agreed to come, her acceptance had not come easy.  Lucien had insisted that she be picked up at the docks, because the idea was logical and he couldn’t stomach the idea of her walking.  Ona had outright refused him, because she’d endured a few questions from members belonging to her Sect.  They had watched her exiting the long black limo, yet due to the tinted windows, they didn’t know that Lucien had rode there with her.  Thanks to the darkened windows, the questions were simple inquires concerning the vehicle.  Everyone in her commune had some knowledge about her accident, and most knew about her recovery but there were a few who didn’t know as much as most.  Thankfully, the questions came from the latter.  When they asked if the car had been provided by a program benefactor, due to her injuries; Ona nodded because their assumptions were partly true, and answering in the affirmative didn’t spark any further inquiries.

She was within a few steps of the vehicle when a man stepped out on the drivers side.  She recognized him as the man who’d driven Lucien on the day that he’d rode with her to the docks.

He opened the passenger side door on the curbside, then he said...

“Good morning Miss Zelle.”

She didn’t know his name, and in her nervous state, she didn’t think to ask.  For a second, she stared at the car, perplexed.  Indecision flooded her face and reality hit her.  This would be her last chance to change her mind .  If she was turning back, she would have to do it now; but she hadn’t come this far to cower at the last minute.  Ona slipped across the backseat, and before the door closed behind her, she hurriedly said...

“Good morning–and thank you.”

Ona had daydreamed during the entire ride, and she didn’t keep track of the time.  During one moment she’d been sliding across the seat, entering the car, then in the next, the vehicle had stopped and her side door was being opened.  The driver offered her his hand, and she trembled when she touched him.  It wasn’t his presence or his offer that unsettled her.  It was this experience, because everything about it was a first for her and she was pleased with herself for expressly telling Lucien that only the driver could pick her up.  She believed that if she were caught; she could explain away a driver, but she couldn’t make an excuse for Lucien.

When she stood on the curb, a doorman stepped outside of the building, and he held the door open.  He recognized Lucien’s driver and he made the connection.

He smiled while saying...

“This way Miss.  Mr. Delors is expecting you.”

Before she stepped inside, a woman passed her carrying a clutch sized dog in her arms.  The tiny canine was wearing a teal outfit that matched its owner’s.  When the woman walked by, in her wake, Ona’s nose was bathed with her scent.  The combination of oils and floral concoctions was a mix of spring and summer gardens.  She stalled for a moment, and she considered herself, from head to toe.  She didn’t wear makeup, perfume and she didn’t own anything that was remotely green.  She didn’t own high heel shoes, or sneakers but she did own two pair of black loafers.  After seeing that woman coming out of Lucien’s pricy apartment building, Ona felt a rush of uncertainty.  She had dressed in her best black knee length dress, and she’d brushed her hair until it shined like ravens feathers.  She had tied up her hair using a black ribbon, and before leaving her home, not once did she consider her outer appearance.  She supposed that now, it was this apprehension that had rooted her on the sidewalk.  She probably would have remained there forever had it not been for Lucien’s driver.  He was a middle-aged man with a kind face.  He stood off to her side, saying...