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Authors: L. V. Lewis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial

Exit Strategy (36 page)

BOOK: Exit Strategy
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Mrs. Hathaway runs, purportedly to calm Aimee, while Tristan and Velasquez run through to the kitchen. Off the mudroom, the door to the back hallway is open, and the woman dressed in men’s clothing stands with her back to them, her hands raised in the air. Velasquez’s team stopped her from getting away.
“Turn around,” Velasquez demands, and she does so. “Pull that hoodie down. Slowly . . .”
One of the security team handcuffs her and pushes her toward Tristan and Velasquez.
“Who are you?” Tristan asks.
“Her name is Aurora Styles,” Velasquez says. “My PI friend got me the goods on her late this afternoon while you were getting your beauty rest.” He gestures with his chin to Tristan. “She’s the
second
daughter, born to Deidra J. Styles two years after Aimee—the child she chose to keep.”
“So, you’re Aimee’s sister,” Tristan says with disbelief. “What do you think you know about Aimee and me to justify threatening me and mine?
“You did that to her!” she shrieks. “You used her then took her to Colorado to dispose of her like a piece of trash. Then you almost killed her in that accident and left her in that rehab facility to rot and die.”
Mrs. Hathaway runs into the kitchen and throws herself in front of the girl. “You’ve already maimed one of my daughters. I won’t let you hurt another. Put those guns down.”
Tristan’s eyebrows reach his hairline. “What the fuck?”
“I’m Deidra Janet Styles Hathaway.”
Could this be more of a goddamned soap opera?
“Aimee’s birth mother,” Velasquez says unnecessarily.
Tristan holds his hand out to Velasquez. “Give me back my cell phone so I can call Special Agent Donovan to come sort this shit out.”
 
~*~
 
Aimee looks wan and very small lying on her hospital bed. Her green eyes are misty, yet she hasn’t shed a tear.
“What made her think she had any right to infiltrate my home after all these years, seeking to exact some fucked-up revenge on my behalf?”
“They only know of me what they read in the papers and saw on television. Aurora’s plans were kept from your birth mother until just last night. Janet has supported Aurora since she got out of the Army eight months ago. Janet’s late husband, Earl Hathaway, a
real estate
developer in Corpus Christi, left her quite an inheritance. Sara Fielding helped Aurora with makeup when she posed as you and as Stiers. Their intentions escalated to deadly when I shunned Sara a second time.”
“Oh God. Tristan, I’m so sorry. I never told Nursie, I mean, Janet the truth about my accident. Maybe if I had she could’ve told Aurora and maybe they wouldn’t have turned so bitter toward you. I did tell her in no uncertain terms about my feelings for my birth mother and my adoptive parents. She must’ve been scared shitless to tell me who she really was. In hindsight, I recall her taking it harder than I did when you didn’t visit for a while. She must’ve voiced her displeasure to Aurora.”
“It’s not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for. According to Aurora, when Janet first came to be your nurse, she only wanted to get to know you, to offer you some comfort since she had the nursing skill to help you. She used her late husband’s money to hire a PI to find you since your adoption records weren’t open.”
“So my sister is a felon, and possibly my nurse... mother?”
“I’m afraid so. Special Agent Donovan has detained them all, but your mother doesn’t seem to be involved. Maybe you and she can start over and forge a new relationship. But please help her understand that your accident was just that. An accident.”
“You can say what actually happened, Tristan. I jumped out of the goddamned car like a fucking idiot. And yes, I’ll tell her the truth, and if she even acts as if she doesn’t believe me, then she’ll have no place in my life.”
“It would make me rest easier knowing you have someone in your corner who would kill on your behalf,” Tristan says.
She scrunches up her nose. “Is it fucked up that I do kind of want to get to know Aurora? I never knew I had a sister.”
“I’ll understand if you want a relationship with your real family.”
“What does Aurora look like?”
“Well, she looks almost identical to you, except she’s a brunette. When Keisha spotted her those couple of times, she was wearing a wig, and makeup courtesy of Sara Fielding.”
“Why did she come here tonight?”
“To convince your mother to help her get to me. Aurora is quite the markswoman. She’d just finished a stint in Afghanistan when she joined her mother here eight months ago. Aurora met Sara at the Rehab facility, and together they hatched the plan to terrorize me and my family.”
“Oh, Tristan. I’m so glad you foiled their plans. Don’t they understand with you gone, I’d have no one to care for me in the manner to which I’ve become accustomed?”
“Even though Janet has more than a little something stashed away, I’ll take care of you.
It’s up to you whether you still want her as your nurse—or in your life, for that matter.
Her nursing skill
is
impeccable, so either way you’ll be comfortable. I’ll make sure of it.”
“So, what now? You going to get your girl back? Nursie and I saw all the coverage of you and Lani Doyle. Damn, I need to figure out whether I should call her Nursie or Mom. Neither of us talked about the big fucking elephant in the room when you visited recently, but we both wanted to wring your neck on Keisha’s behalf.”
“I’m sure Keisha will do all the wringing required when I go groveling to get her back, again.”
“That’s not going to happen right now,” Velasquez says from the door.
“What do you mean?” Tristan asks. “The threat is contained.”
“That may be true, but Rojas just notified me that McCaskill has purchased a new stash of GHB. He’s probably going back on the prowl.”
“But we have no idea how long it’s going to take him to get the nerve to use it again.”
“Have faith in Heather. She’s on the job tonight.”
“Who’s Heather?” Aimee asks.
“Someone whose name you’ve never heard,” Tristan says.

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Keisha
 
The pain has emerged full force. I didn’t follow the nurse’s instructions to take the narcotic pain relievers before the local anesthetic wore off. Truth be told, I want to feel the pain, because I’m so damn numb to everything else in my life.
I must’ve moaned or something, because Mama comes over to the hospital bed.
“Are you in pain, Keisha Anarosa?”
“Yes.” There’s no use lying to her because Mama will know if I do.
She fusses around, getting water in a plastic cup and bringing me the pills in the small paper cup the nurse left earlier. “Here, take this.”
“It’s just going to make me sleepy.”
“You probably need sleep anyway. Take this now.”
I open my mouth, and she pours the pills in and pushes the plastic cup of water to my lips.
I drink a sip, swallow the pills, and then drink more, realizing that I am parched. The cool water is soothing to my throat. When the cup is empty, Mama takes it away.
“You want more, baby?”
“No, ma’am,” I say, and then lie back on the bed.
“Jada’s going to come by tonight after KSR is closed,” Mama says. “She would’ve come earlier, but Jorge went to Milwaukee with Thomas to visit his family this weekend.”
“She was supposed to go the Poconos with Nate,” I say. “I guess I ruined their plans.”
“Somebody had to run KSR, she said, so I’m sure she didn’t mind.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Oh, the doctor came by while you were sleeping. It was benign, baby. The same oncologist I had checked on you, too, and Dr. Jane says he’s one of the best in the world.”
“That’s good.” I should probably be more excited that removal of a benign cyst was all it took to fix me, but I can’t muster excitement about anything much these days.
I thought for sure Tristan would break this ridiculous silence when he heard about my tumor, but even that didn’t bring him running to my bedside. I suppose I should be thankful he’s out of my life, and I can begin to live without his controlling presence in it. It’s been a month, and I need to take control my damn self and not give any man that kind of power over me again.
“What do you think about that, baby?”
It occurs to me that my mama probably told me something of importance just now, and I zoned out and hadn’t heard her.
“What did you say, Mama?”
“Pastor Johnson and I have re-set the wedding date. We’re going to get married on Saturday, May eleventh.”
I burst into tears. Mama had no way of knowing, but on May eleventh of the previous year I met Tristan.
“Oh, baby... what’s the matter? I thought that would be good news.”
“It is, Mama. It is. This medicine is just messing with my hormones.”

 

~*~
 
When I wake up, Mama is gone, but there is a familiar face in the room with me in her stead, lounging in the chair she’d occupied. He’s snoring softly, so I don’t wake him. I hope the noise won’t startle him, but I’m tired of lying prone, so I adjust the bed to a sitting position. His eyes open. So much for quiet.
“Hello stranger,” I say, not bothering to mask my severe irritation that he’s shown up in my hospital room after leaving my employ with no notice.
He rubs a hand across his face, stands and stretches. “
Ola, Namorada.

“Don’t you ‘
Ola, Namorada
’ me. Where the hell have you been, Carmelo?”
“I got another gig.”
“That gig more important than giving notice, or saying a proper good-bye to your friend?”
“Keisha, I can’t go into what I’ve been doing. It’s really not my place.”
“I expect to hear crap like that from Tristan, but not from you, Carm. I swear, you two are about to make me cultivate an unhealthy hate for men.”
He moves as close to my hospital bed as he can get without getting in with me. “The only difference between me and Tristan is I would try to move heaven and earth to keep you safe, but he actually has the means to do it.”
“That’s very poetic of you.”
He takes my hand. “Aw, Keisha, c’mon, please don’t be mad with me. All I can say is, you’ll know soon enough why things had to go down this way. I’m not even supposed to be here, but when I heard, I had to come see you.”
The irony is not lost on me that I’ve never even slept with Carmelo and he came to see about me, which is more than I can say for he-who-shall-not-be-named.
“At least
you
haven’t abandoned chivalry.”
“Neither has Tristan.”
I do a double take. “Is the world coming to an end? Because what you just said sounded like support for the other guy who dumped my ass in a very public, very humiliating fashion.”
“You know, I don’t know if you’re hard-wired for it or what, but you women always seem to go for the more complicated fellow.”
“If I weren’t so groggy from these pain meds I’d try very hard to get my right hook to meet your pretty face,” I say.
“Now you’re getting all violent on me and whatnot. I see how you are,” he teases. “But did you just call me pretty?”
“I didn’t bite my tongue,” I say with a grin.
Carmelo could always cheer me up. As my mama would say, “it’s a crying shame” I can’t muster up any romantic love for him.
“Well then, a brother might have to just sit here with you for a while and shoot the shit.” He grabs the remote. “But first, we’re gonna have to do something about this channel you’re watching.”
BOOK: Exit Strategy
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