Текст книги "Lovers and Reprisals"
Автор книги: Lori Turner
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
When Ona stepped away from him, she was flanked by her brothers. As they walked away, Rachel joined Caleb, walking beside him and he couldn’t discern if she was trying to reason with him or if she was talking to Ona.
Lucien stood paralyzed and his inaction churned his gut like a grater. Every protective instinct entreated him to engage Noah and Caleb in conversation, and had it not been for Ona’s expression, he would have cornered them both, insisting that they talk. He stood idle for the sake of being in love with her. When he’d stared into her eyes, her rapidly batting eyes scuttled ideas that would end with Ona remaining with him. For months, he’d deceived himself to believe reason would prevail. Lucien still believed that but people have to talk if reason is to be had; and that was the problem. Ona’s brothers had arrived, and their return had been unexpected. They had found him with their sister and that had not occurred by design. In fact, their impromptu visit had complicated a situation unbalanced by countless sensitive topics. He blamed himself because he’d been lulled into a false sense of enchantment. His time spent with Ona had been wonderful; the best days of his life and he wasn’t ready for all that to end.
“This is all your fault”
The accusation came from his side. He lowered his gaze, seeing Sahara standing next to him. Her expression was fixed and hard. He furrowed his brows because he’d been lost in thought.
“Excuse me?” he said. Sahara pursed her lips, restating her words in terms that he would grasp.
“Whatever happens to her–you are to blame.”
Lucien was no fool. He’d seen Sahara’s attentions in the hospital and her fondness snowballed the longer she remained in Ona’s company. But on a day like today, he couldn’t be bothered with crushes or any other jealous nonsense.
He expelled a sudden force of air, then he said...
“Sahara...if you have something to say, then say it.”
This had been exactly what she’d wanted. For months she’d watched Lucien cozying up to Ona and the thought had made her sick.
She perched a hand on her hip, when she said...
“What did you think would happen when her family returned? You’d ride in on your white horse–or one of your limos. You’d hoist her up side saddle, then ride off into the sunset, and her family would share a meal with you at the dock?”
“I had imagined another scenario.”
“Oh yes–you’d thought that you would charm them–just like you charmed Ona.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t dignify her comment with a response. Sahara snorted when she said...
“You’re delusional.”
“And what are you?” he should have left well enough alone because there were no winners in this game but he couldn’t abide her point of view.
Sahara rose one brow when she said...
“I’m thinking about converting.”
“What?!” he’d heard her but the word burst free without a second thought.
Sahara said...
“Ona and I have talked about it–and she says that it isn’t as difficult as one might think. Of course–one of the Samaritan families will have to adopt me...but I’m a brilliant musician and that shouldn’t be difficult to achieve.”
Lucien had thought, that she might be a brilliant musician but to his ears, she was beginning to sound a little crazy. She was uttering nonsense, and her fantasies weren’t worth his contemplation. Lucien began to walk away, but he stopped when she said...
“If they talk to you–I'm sure you know that it’ll only be a pity invite.”
Lucien turned on his heels, and he didn’t hide his anger.
His voice was abrupt when he said...
“Do you hate me that much?”
Sahara took a few steps closing the distance. Her lip curled up and the expression was anything but cute.
“You aren’t worth my hate.”
“Then what is it...because as I see it; I’ve never done anything to you.”
“You don’t like the fact that I’m not like Rachel. I don’t fawn all over you...saying, yes–yes Lucien; I’ll lie for you, if it means you’ll get to spend time with Ona. And Rachel is crazy if she thinks that Caleb will turn his back on the family that raised him. God...you’re both so pathetic.”
When he stared at her, an awareness struck him. He couldn’t prove it, but he was pretty sure that Sahara was to blame for Noah and Caleb finding him and Ona in her office. He was just about to say this when she spoke first.
“You know...there’s a big difference between me and you. I would give up my life for Ona–and that means giving up my music; and music means everything to me. I’m not a religious person, but I would become a Samaritan, like her; if it meant spending just a moment with her. And I know what that means. I’ll have to share her with the other members of the Sect. Then when she marries Geff–and you shouldn’t delude yourself, because their marriage is inevitable. When they are married, I’ll become her best friend, and everything will be as it should be because when women are in a loveless marriage, they rely on their girlfriends. And that’s where I’ll come in.”
She leaned in so close, Lucien could smell the breath mint that teetered on the tip of her tongue. Sahara’s eyes held an expression that would frighten most, and he included himself. There was something about this woman that was off-balanced. He didn’t have a degree in this area, but her ideas didn’t come from a rational mind.
Sahara rose one brow when she said....
“I would give up everything to be with her. My life–my freedom–my music. Can you say the same? Would you give up everything to be with Ona Zelle?”
Lucien stared at this woman, and he realized that he’d underestimated her. She wasn’t just crazy–Sahara was obsessed and her obsession was fixed on the woman that he loved.
**********
Chapter 18
Happiness, heartache, woes
A wave of voices rose and fell with emotions. Each perspective lit her ears, and more than anything, Ona wished for quiet. The disagreements started the second she and her brother hit the streets outside of the Children’s Center. Noah’s had begun by reciting verses from the Creed. He’d maintained his normal level temperament, modulating his voice by subtle degrees to emphasize important points. Caleb on the other hand; no part of his diatribe had been restrained, and he didn’t care that his voice carried, calling attention to them. And the way he’d spoke to Rachel; she didn’t believe she’d ever forget the shock that rushed from her friends throat. Rachel had hurried down the street beside them, tugging on Caleb’s arm. She’d pleaded with him to leave Ona and Noah to talk, because it was obvious that he needed time to curb his anger. Ona hadn’t witnessed the outburst with her eyes but she’d heard it. Caleb had bellowed out words that sent a shutter coursing throughout her body. He had berated her, insisting that she return to her life. Ona had always believed Rachel to be a strong confident woman, but she also knew the cost of love; and Rachel dearly loved her brother, and the expense had been unthinkable. When Caleb charged ahead of her, in the rear she had heard Rachel’s pleading outcry. Her voice had cracked, and she’d begged him to see reason, but the only reason any of them noticed was his resolve and the sternness of a man who refused to look back. On the ferry, it had taken Noah’s suggestions to tame his tongue. But from the second they crossed through the door of their parent’s home, the only thing that slowed his rant was the fact that he had to stop, when his lungs would run out of air. What galled her more than the finger pointing was the fact that the men wouldn’t allow her to take part in their conversation. Her father had thought it best to speak with her brothers alone, since they had appeared the most disturbed by her actions; he’d left her mother to deal with her. For the past two hours, Ona and her mother moved around each other in the kitchen like two orbiting planets. Except for a few simple questions, Aldeara appeared more tired than upset. Seeing her mother this way pained her because according to Noah, they had traveled halfway around the world, and their return had been to celebrate two special occasions involving their children. Noah had made his intentions known to Ester’s parents, and soon they all would travel to Virginia. Geff had done the same, and her parents had been thrilled over the match. They had not even waited to hear if Ona would accept Geff’s offer of marriage because they’d all supposed that the time had come for her to marry. For Samaritan families, marital unions were a blessed occasion but she didn’t sense exhilaration in the house. Her parent’s home was a fog, shrouded by a bitter truth. For months, Ona had led a secret life, seeing a man outside of her Sect. A man that neither of her parent’s knew personally. And this action broke with tradition. She recalled the way her mothers face looked when Ona had said Lucien’s name. Each wrinkle that creased her forehead seemed to deepened as she detailed their encounters. When her mother asked if Lucien had asked things of her that were immoral; Ona had replied, saying that he had not forced her to do anything. She’d felt that it had been her duty to protect his character, then she told her mother that she had kissed him, more than a few times; but that was all that had happened. She’d pointedly stated, that no other part of her body had been touched. After that, the conversation ended and her mother busied herself, preparing a dish to compliment the meal at the dinner party. The casserole was one of Geff’s favorites, and she’d made it especially for him.
Ona stood in the kitchen with her back to the door. She could hear the men whispering in the other room. She stepped away from the sink when she heard her mother returning. Aldeara’s footfalls were light and unmistakable. When Ona turned, she noticed that her mother had changed clothes and the outfit complimented her tanned complexion.
Aldeara sighed when she said...
“Geff was here earlier. Right before your brother’s left, in search of you. He sat right there at the kitchen table, and he talked of nothing except this dinner. Ona...”
Ona waited for her mother to continue and in her pause, she noticed a deep concentration. Aldeara slowly crossed the room and as she did this, Caleb’s voice rose over her mothers steps. His voice sounded angry but his outburst didn’t appear to affect her mother. She neared the table when she said...
“You know...we aren’t special. We make mistakes...just like those who are unlike us. We’ve all been tested.”
Ona lowered her eyes and she tried to imagine her parent’s knee deep in her current situation. When she had the image in her head, she lifted her eyes, fixing her mother with a questioning gaze.
Ona said...
“Did you fall in love with someone not like us?”
Her mother’s face held a cautious expression, then she stepped closer while saying...
“I have loved only one man in my lifetime. And I married him, two months after I’d reached the age of consent.”
Ona stared at her confused and she stuttered saying...
“But...but–you just said...”
Aldeara broke in, bringing an end to her scattered chorus. She’d sounded more like a friend, than a mother.
“My dear...I was speaking about our mission. I was referring to our work as Samaritans. Living and working outside of our commune with Non-Samaritans can tempt the strongest of our Sect. When we stumble, living as they do, instead of practicing our way of life; that is when the Creed becomes important. The Creed will redirect your path–showing you the way of the Lord, returning you to your Samaritan roots.”
Aldeara touched her shoulder when she said...
“He is a good man. Geff that is. He will be a good helpmate...and your father and I have given him our blessings.”
Ona heard the roar of her beating heart. She couldn’t find the words to speak, so she stood silent. Her mother spoke, making everything clear.
“Ona...your father and I approve of this match. All that remains to happen is your approval.”
She felt as if the room was closing in on her. More so when she didn’t hear any voices coming from the other room. What had happened? Had they bridged a gulf; deciding how best to deal with her? Would her parents allow her to return to the Children’s Center alone or would one of her brothers accompany her, remaining by her side, like a chaperon, never allowing her a second of privacy? She stared at her mother’s face, watching the rise of her arched brow. After fifteen-seconds ticked and still her remark had remained unanswered, Aldeara drew her daughter in, then she kissed her on the side of her face.
She said...
“Ona...I have every confidence in you. I’m sure that you will make the correct decision.”
Ona didn’t see her choices as correct or wrong, primarily because she didn’t feel like she had much of a choice in the matter. Her voice sounded weak when she said...
“I’ll do what is best.”
She waited, studying her mother’s subtle moves; all the while, she wanted to shrink back into the woodworks. Seconds ticked before her mother finally said...
“Wear the dress that your father and I bought for you when we’d traveled through Johannesburg. The colors are vibrant–and Geff said that the dress is one of his favorites.”
Ona recalled the dress but she’d never known that Geff admired her whenever she wore it for special occasions. She recalled how for the past few months, she’d made an effort to dress, wearing clothes that might appeal to Lucien–and the dress from Johannesburg had been the only outfit in her closet that wasn’t blue, black or grey. She’d worn that dress for Lucien, and she remembered the way that his eyes had lit with excitement. That day had been special, and that had made the dress special too. Now to learn that her dress had appealed to Geff as well; Ona would not allow him to spoil the only lasting memory that she could actually touch and hold close to her body. When she’d been with him, wearing that dress; traces of Lucien’s cologne had sealed within the fibers. If she wore the dress today, being around the smell of soap and food; she would risk losing Lucien’s scent. She couldn’t do that.
Ona noticed her mother’s expression when she said...
“I’ll wear something suitable for the occasion.”
“Good.” Her mother simply replied.
Ona heard the sound of an opening, then closing door. She assumed that her brother’s had left, to go to their apartments to dress for the dinner. She sighed, because she’d seen the slow approach of this day, and for years she’d purposely denied it. For years Geff had cozied up to her parents and he’d become one of Noah’s closest friends. Even though she’d known this, Ona had crafted a plan that would diffuse Geff’s offer without offending him or his parents. But after the way things had played out at the Children’s Center, then enduring disappointment from her brothers and her parents; Ona couldn’t bring herself to put up a fight. She’d hurt them in a way that she could never take back.
In her minds eye, she pictured Geff, and she couldn’t imagine spending a lifetime, being his wife. She just didn’t love him. She wondered what it would feel like living with a man, all the while, wishing that she were with another.
Ona said...
“Mother...does Geff know? Does he know about Lucien?”
“No he doesn’t. And why should he know?”
Why indeed, she’d thought, because what good would come from knowing. Geff had already made his intentions known, and he would disgrace his family if he retracted his word; the retraction would be viewed as deception, or a lie. Even if Geff knew about Lucien or the time that she’d spent with him; the knowledge wouldn’t preclude their marriage. She mulled the thought, until her mothers voice broke into her musing.
Aldeara forced a smile when she said...
“We shouldn’t be late dear.”
“No...we wouldn’t want to be late.” Ona absentmindedly replied.
“Your father and I will wait for you”
Ona frowned, then she said...
“Please mother–don’t break with tradition on my behalf. Go. You’ll need to talk to Geff’s parents before I arrive.”
She couldn’t believe that she was encouraging this custom; but she had. Following with tradition, tonights dinner ceremony will give Geff’s parent’s their opportunity to bless the union. Soon after that, Ona’s parents would host a dinner party, doing the same.
Her mother stepped away, saying...
“Don’t delay dear. You’ll need time to shower and change.”
Ona wanted to say more, but her brain filled with Lucien’s voice. She could hear every word, and every compliment he’d ever given her. She could see his face, and she could feel his gentle caressing touches. She loved him. But–they couldn’t be together.
Ona nodded her head, and when she’d acquiesced, this gesture had been an acceptance of her fate.
She said...
“I won’t be late mother. I promise.”
**********
Chapter 19
Sit down. Shush. Get it right.
“It isn’t my fault daddy. I just went there to talk to him.”
“Sit down, and shut up!”
Morpheus had chosen his two story library at his home in Maine to discuss this problem with a person who was the spitting image of him; and it galled him to admit that. Fawn stalked over to one of the wing backed leather chairs, plopping her weight on the cushion, then she rolled her eyes. Morpheus directed his attention on one of his attorney’s whose job it was to clean up his daughters legal messes.
Winston picked up where he’d left off, before Fawn had bursted out her rant, interrupting him.
“Mr. Gustafson, I have done my job. I followed your explicit instructions. I spoke to the District Attorney and she agreed to drop the charges. After our discussion, she spoke to the arresting officer, and she assured me that as far as she is concerned, this incident never occurred."
Morpheus glared at him and he predictably restrained his bite, mainly because Mikita was present. They were living together and she’d accepted his engagement ring. He made a point to look in her direction and his expression had been apologetic. Mikita rose, because she understood that parenthood was a lifetime job; from the womb to the grave, and as Fawn had pointedly stated on numerous occasions–she wasn’t her mother. Therefore, she didn’t belong here and as such, she would leave, allowing Morpheus to manage yet another crisis in which Fawn had been the instigator.
Mikita crossed the floor, and when she stood by his side, he touched her elbow lightly, prompting her to come closer. She turned her back to the others in the room, to share a private word.
She spoke low when she said...
“Honey–I think I should leave.”
“No–please babe; stay. I want you too.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You handle this, and I’ll wait for you in our bedroom. We can say our goodbyes there in private.”
Morpheus had planned to leave earlier, but he’d delayed his departure after getting word from Winston. Now, here he was knee deep, wading through his daughters shit; as usual. When he looked at Mikita, the past few months rushed across his mind. When Mikita had invited him to remain in Bermuda, he’d planned for an extended stay, and they had not expected the fast decline of her mothers health. By the second week Ernestine could barely sit on the side of her bed. Then a few days later, she had said that she was tired and wanted to take a nap; Morpheus had gone to her room to check on her, only to find that she’d slipped away, saving her daughter the pain of watching her mother die a slow and painful death. For days, Mikita had been inconsolable, and seeing her now, he knew that she still missed her mother, but everyday she would say how happy she was to be with him, sharing his home. She was happy, and the only thing that would make her happier would be to see him and their son, finally behaving as if they were indeed a true family. He lowered his head, pressing his lips on Mikita’s and he didn’t give a damn that it made his daughter uncomfortable witnessing this. When Mikita pulled away, he felt her slight stumble and he smirked because his kiss had been to blame for her unsteadiness. There were segments of his life that Mikita couldn’t be involved in; issues that have absolutely nothing to do with business. Even though she knew certain things about him he couldn’t tell her where he was going or what this trip was about.
Mikita smiled at him and he returned her’s with one of his own, then she left the room. As their distance grew, his anger towards his daughter gained in momentum. Because of Fawn, she had fucked up his entire day.
Morpheus maintained a wide stance, directing his statement at Winston.
He said...
"It sounds to me like the district attorney has trashed the charges–and that's exactly what I wanted to happen. But I guess there must be more to this because you're standing in my house. So–what's the problem Winston?"
Winston Dubois was a brilliant man and he knew a trap when he saw one. And this most definitely was a trap. The worst kind of trap. A Morpheus Gustafson trap. The wise attorney employed one of his courtroom tactics. He flipped the question back to his employer.
"What's the problem indeed. You see sir, as I've said; I did my job, but your daughter doesn't seem to agree."
"Spit it out man"
Morpheus had had enough of this game and when his attorney smiled, he clearly heard 'gotcha' wailing in his head, because the focus was no longer aimed at Winston. Now, he would be learning something about Fawn, and that she was the problem, and not his attorney.
Winston said...
"There was a restraining order...and your daughter refuses to sign off on the document. The D.A. bent over backwards completely ignoring the police report and the assault charges–mainly because Fawn's offenses towards the police officers occurred when she turned on them and resisted their arrest. I spoke with the security guards at the art gallery; gave each of them their asking price and they signed documents affectively swearing never to seek legal or monetary actions for her assaults on them. As for the owner of the art gallery, we've agreed to allow the insurance company to name their price, after the damages have been assessed. However; until that occurs, a reasonable amount was advanced to begin repairs in the gallery. However, as for Judd Marko–the D.A. spoke with him–and he isn't budging. He won't change his mind and he won't recant his statements. He insisted that the restraining order be put in place. And in plain English sir, that leaves your daughter with no other options. She has no other choice in this matter. She must acknowledge the order."
"I don't understand. Why is it so important that she sign the damn thing? I thought that she just has to know that an order of protection exist."
"Well–yes, in general, that is correct. However, Morpheus...I didn't explain the events that preceded her run-in with the officers. Your daughter practically demolished every piece of artwork at Claudette Tautou Gallery. She did this in front of a crowd of people, and it took hours to confiscate camera’s and every other recording device. Then there was the damage to consider–as well as the other artist. I am no expert sir, but when I totaled the cost in my head, the figure is well over eight million dollars in damages. More to the point–she destroyed every sculpture created by Judd Marko. And as I said sir–you needn’t worry on that account because I've taken care of that. However–when I explained to the D.A. that I have assured all parties involved that they will be reimbursed for their losses–this explanation wasn't enough to satisfy the D.A.. You see–too many people were involved–and well, we are coming up on an election year. In other words, her manipulation stops with the arresting officers. She won’t consider strong-arming Judd to back off and since the restraining order isn't going away, the D.A. wants certain assurances."
Morpheus thought about his war-chest, filled with secrets and lies. He briefly considered Amanda Levi, and the day she’d been sworn in as the District Attorney. What did he have on her–and was he prepared to use it.
Morpheus narrowed his eyes when he said...
"Okay...it sounds to me like Amanda is covering her ass. Now–what’s our next move."
Winston said...
"I'm sorry sir...but–nothing comes next; and the D.A. made that clear to me. This is one stipulation that I cannot make go away. And sir, well...Fawn–she refuses to bow to this particular will of justice."
“Is that what you call justice? I’d call it blackmail”
Morpheus closed his eyes because he understood the ramifications of print and signatures. Signed documents had a life of their own, and no one knew better than him. He could visualize the D.A. salivating, knowing that she has proof locked away in her desk, stating that Morpheus Gustafson’s daughter had destroyed artwork and she stalked a man, who had no other choice except to take out a restraining order on her.
Morpheus slammed his fist on his desk, then he bellowed...
“What assurances do I have that this restraining order won’t be made public? Hell...for all I know, if the press get their hands on that–then the whole story comes out, defeating the purpose of the millions I’ve paid to cover it up.”
“Sir–the D.A. says, if Fawn signs the document, the official paperwork for the order will be erased. In other words, Judd will live his life, believing that Fawn stayed away because of a restraining order that doesn’t actually exist. That is the reason the D.A. wants the letter signed–just in case...”
Winston didn’t have to finish his sentence. Amanda wanted it just in case Fawn slipped; and there were no shortage of ways to make good use of damning evidence. Morpheus didn’t want to ponder on this problem any longer.
He stared at his daughter, then he spoke loud enough to wake the dead.
"Fawn!!! Sign the gotdamn thing. Sign it now–then get the hell out of my sight."
Fawn shook, but she wouldn’t cower. She wasn’t a fool and she knew to fear her father, but her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her fear to show. She watched Winston as he approached her. She hadn’t even seen the documents on a desk nearby where he’d been standing. He lifted the documents, then he approached her, handing her the papers on a clipboard along with a pen. She took it, and while she signed next to yellow arrowed stickies, pointing at the lines where her signature was to be penned, she heard her father when he said...
“I will say this once...and I will not repeat myself. Take this as your final warning. Stay the hell away from Judd Marko. Stay away from that man, and stay away from any art gallery that might be displaying his work. Today is the last day that I want to hear any mention of this man. Do not disappoint me Fawn-because if you do, you will not like the consequences.”
Morpheus watched his attorney gathering the papers after Fawn had signed the last one. Winston nodded, and then he silently left the room. He didn’t look back because he was grateful for this outcome. Fawn stared at a wall of books, refusing to face her father. And when he left the room, she would swear on a stack of bibles that his anger leapt across the divide, shaming, then branding her with his mandate.
**********
Morpheus stepped off his chopper, exchanging one air transport for another. One of his private aircraft sat on the tarmac, fueled with its engine humming. In his head, there was a clashing struggle, and each worry vied for his attention. All around him, there was motion, yet these people went completely unnoticed. His hand picked crew were all busy preparing for the flight. Morpheus boarded the plane, and he didn’t even hear their greetings. He’d moved passed them, then took his usual window seat. He heard his assistant giving last minute instructions, telling the attendant that he’d not eaten any lunch and to be sure to encourage this. Morpheus didn’t give a damn about his stomach because for months, he’d dreaded this day. He asked himself, if a tree falls in the woods, does it create a sound? When asked this question, his answer would always be yes, because he envisioned being their to witness the event. But this thought twister wouldn’t help him when it came to his problems. For his worries, he considered the butterfly-effect. A phenomenon whereby one seemingly inconsequential change creates a larger effect on the entire waterworks. In his case, there had been two seemingly inconsequential events. Tollin Pettier and Andrew Wilcox. Tollin had been Eliza’s screw-up; but he’d decided to take the blame for Andrew Wilcox. He wouldn’t relive Eliza’s nightmare because at the time, she had not known the importance of her role. She had not known–and she should have–so he blamed himself for that. When he considered Andrew; Morpheus recalled the farce of a trial in the that one shotgun town that he lived in. He should have seen the signs. Andrew had been beyond himself, consumed by his grief; but he’d persuaded Morpheus, by saying that he would survive. Morpheus had wanted to believe him–so he did. Weeks had passed, and he’d believed him but Morpheus had been wrong to do so. Believing Andrew had been a bad call on his part because Andrew had sought to level the scales of justice. The governor had taken matters into his own hands. Morpheus still didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d gotten the name of Joplin Paddox, and he’d made one simple request.
“Take care of Tollin Pettier. I don’t want him bothering my sister anymore.”
And that had been it, but Andrew had no idea how damning his words had been. Morpheus grit his teeth because in his line of work, he knew that there was always a price to pay, whenever men flexed their muscles, exerting false bravado. There was a price to pay when words held duel meanings. To Andrew’s mind, the request had been a simple one; but the governor had not known who he’d been talking to. When Joplin dealt with people, generally, they didn’t walk away, and he didn’t leave witnesses behind to tell their side of the story. Not long after Tollin’s death, the truth began to slowly unfold. Eliza had grilled Andrew until he’d finally confessed, confirming that he’d discussed his frustrations with a man named Joplin Paddox and that he’d enlisted his help. Weeks had passed, and Morpheus still couldn’t believe that out of all the people in the world, Andrew had stumbled upon Joplin Paddox; and Morpheus didn’t believe in coincidences. Joplin Paddox. The name scrolled in his brain. He thought about his brother Raal...and Kyle, his lover. Before meeting Kyle, Raal had never been without a lover–and at one time, his interest had been women. His brother had more children than he could count, and many of these women had never bothered naming him as the father on the birth certificates. Morpheus recalled the dinner at his home, and when he looked at his brother and Kyle, the two men appeared to be so happy. He thought about that night...then his thought’s went to his love–Mikita; then his brain jumped back to his brother. What a fucking mess. His brain drummed up the image. Joplin–the name haunted him mainly because Joplin was Raal’s illegitimate son. The son that his brother had never known–yet, Morpheus had known about Joplin for the past eleven years, and he’d never bothered to divulge this fact to his brother.
