Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1) (19 page)

I sit up to a loud banging downstairs.
 

“Sydney.” I jump up from the bed.
 

But not likely. She’s long gone by now. But I wish it were her. Come to ream me about the contract, to demand I follow through. It’s not exactly an ideal reunion but it’s better than nothing. At least I’d be able to assure her I intend to keep my word no matter what. Then she’d know how I really feel.
 

I make my way down the stairs and pause before swinging the door open. I suck in a sharp breath when I see the person on the other side.
 

“Mariah.”

“Ray.” Her arms are crossed, silver eyes narrowed as she pushes past me into the living room.
 

She glances around for a few seconds, before turning her glare back on me.
 

“What are you doing here? I—I mean I’m glad, I just thought…h-how are you?”

“Why are you still here?” She raises her eyebrows, her tone crisp. “I thought I asked you leave. No my exact words were ‘get the hell out of my town’ yet, here you stand.”

I run a hand over my head and sigh. “I came to find you. I want to talk about what happened. You need to know I looked for you everywhere. I did. I had no idea you were so close.”

She rolls her eyes and flips her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Too little too late, big bro.”
 

“Mariah—”

“You need to leave,” she says, then digs a hand in her purse. “You’re making my life miserable and causing trouble. For both of us.” She pulls out a phone and moves her finger up and down the screen.

“What kind of trouble? What are you—?”

She thrusts the phone toward me. “This kind.”

I blink at the screen and take a step closer. “Is that...?”

“Dad,” Mariah says and I take the phone from her. “Our real one anyway.”

It’s a well-known photo of him on stage. There’s so much smoke around him it looks like his floating in clouds. It’s a legendary. Used on almost every piece of merchandise the band has. I hate that photo. Every time I see it, I want to tear it down.

But it isn’t the photo that churns something inside me. It’s the headline:

Roscoe Gold makes a comeback (and it’s not what you think)

“Where’d you get this?” I ask, my heart is fluttering in my throat and I grip the phone to stop my hand from shaking.

Mariah snorts. “It’s trending, Ray. Twitter, Facebook, you name it. It’s story of the goddamn day. And it’s ruining my life.”

I quickly scroll down to the body of the article.

“This blogger kept trying to get a hold of me,” she continues. “He’s been emailing and calling for a few days now. Begging me for a quote. Apparently he got a nice lead on this story. Cold hard facts, he called them. Guess he got what he needed elsewhere.”

I hold up a hand to silence her and take in the words on the screen.

“The world of Rock and Roll lost a piece of it’s heart in January 1992 when the original Roscoe Gold called it quits after legendary bassist Luke Black was jailed following a motorcycling accident that left one man in critical condition and two children injured. The band’s front man Black’s older brother, Roscoe severed ties with drummer Dash Martin and the silver-fingered Ryan Harris shortly after, putting a permanent end to an era. Without the Black brothers the beat just hasn’t been the same.
 

Not much has ever been said regarding the details surrounding the fate of the Idaho musicians, who were plagued by scandal during their short two-year stint as rock gods, but it’s recently come to light that one thing holds true, legacy breeds legacy. And apples don’t fall far from their tree.

According to official documents the events leading up to the imploding of one of the greatest bands was the death of Luke Black’s wife and mother of his two children.
 

Kids? Wife?
 

Yes, you read that right. This music legend wasn’t as single as all the ladies wanted to believe. But it’s no wonder the women’s name wasn’t picked up by national media almost ten years ago—she simply wasn’t newsworthy.”
 

I stop, letting out a shaky breath and glance back up at Mariah.
 

“Oh, it gets worse.” She nods toward the phone.

I hold out my hand and keep reading.
 

…Black was just a Palouse native who worked as a pharmacist, until her untimely death. But she’s making news now. At least she would be. You see, this otherwise unknown woman gave birth to the one of the nation’s soon to be richest men. The one and only Raymond Carlson Black. Or, as you’ve probably come to know him, StingRay.

“How?” I ask. “What did you say?”

“Me?” Mariah snaps. “I told you. I didn’t talk to anyone. They came after me. Which means someone else spilled the beans. And I’ve got a pretty good idea who.”

“No one else knows.”

“Yes, Ray. I’m very much aware this is a family secret. Why do you think I’m here?” She points to the phone. “This affects me too you know. Skip to the bottom.”

I sigh and continue to scroll through the screen.

That’s not all folks. There are two Roscoe Gold children, both taking a piece of their famous father.
 

I glance up at Mariah.

She marches across the room and snatches the phone from me.

“While they both got the family looks, Ray got his father’s charm and the other, ironically, got the darkest parts of her daddy. In and out of handcuffs, booked for petty theft, drug possession and finally grand larceny, little Mariah Black is the spitting image of her notorious father—hot and just plain badass. The barely-legal beauty can be found slinging beers at a local bar in Moscow, Idaho—once in a while, crooning on the stage much like the man who gave her life.
 

And the Black brothers? For those of you whose memories still melt panties, there’s a little rumor about an underground label right in the heart of Seattle—which, let’s be honest after an expose like this won’t be underground for long.

Is there a family reunion in the mix? If so, you’ll be the first to know. They don’t call me The Pirate for nothing. Keep it locked boys and girls, while I go find my treasure.

You read it here first on X Marks the Spot.

I don’t even register the moment I start moving. The next thing I know, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, my head in my hands.
 

Mariah stands there across from me, only evidenced by her feet. Her toes nails are painted shiny black and there’s a tattoo I can’t quiet decipher on the top of her right foot.
 

“What is that?” I ask, looking up at her, then back down at her foot.

She shrugs. “A sheep.”

“Why would you—?”

“Does it really matter, Ray? At a time like this? Our entire family history has just been leaked. People know who I am, what I’ve done. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hide a fucking criminal record? They’re supposed to be sealed. I was a kid. Now everything’s just…” Her voice quivers and she turns her back. “They know where I live, what I do? About our dad. I can’t…”

My head snaps up and I snatch the phone from her again, scrolling frantically through the article.
 

“It doesn’t say he’s dead.”

“What?”

“Our father. It says there was an accident. It says he went to jail, but it doesn’t say anything about his death.”

Sydney snorts. “Come on, Ray. You’re not that much of an idiot.” I frown as she takes her phone back and shoves into the back pocket of her barely there shorts. “Our father’s alive. He has been all these years and we both knew it. You were the only one willing to play along. People talk about the dead. Share memories. Visit gravesites. We’ve never been to his once. And every time I’d bring him up, Aunt Sheila would get all shady. I got so used to telling people my dad was dead, I forgot I was lying. Do you have any idea how this makes me look?”

I shake my head and stare back at the ground. Everything she’s saying makes sense, but at the same time is way too big to swallow. I’ve always had my suspicions, but like she said, I just went along with the story that wasn’t really a story. It was easier that way. But my parents never said he was dead. They just never told me otherwise.

“I don’t understand how this got out.”

“Someone got a nice pay day, that’s how.” She sniffs then turns back to me. “And whoever it is, you need to make them pay. It’s the least you could do.”

“Why didn’t they just tell us the truth?”

She laughs. “Everything Aunt Sheila has ever done has been about saving face. People are supposed to think we’re the perfect little family even though we’re the farthest thing from it. She’ll say and do anything to make them think we’re normal. But the fact is we’re not. We never will be. Why is it that I can accept that but none of you can?”

“We have an uncle,” I hear myself say. “This whole other family.”

“It’s not that big of a deal once you get used to the idea.”

I glance back up at her, realizing for the first time that we’re freaking out about two entirely different things.

“Seems like you already are.”

She shrugs. “I saw him once.”

“Who?”
 

“Our dad. I’m pretty sure we have a little brother too.”

“When?” I jump to my feet, towering over her but she doesn’t even move.
 

My sister maintains her position in the middle of the floor, arms still crossed with that famous scowl on her face. “It was a while back. I went to Mom’s grave and there was this man there. He didn’t see me, but the second he turned around…” She shivers, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “It was like looking in a mirror.”

“What’d you do?”

“I ran. What else could I do? I mean, in my heart, I always knew he wasn’t dead. I didn’t feel that missing piece like I always did with our mother. But seeing him was like a totally messed up experience. I couldn’t have talked to him if I tried. So I ran back to the car, told Jake to take off and never looked back. That was two years ago. I haven’t been to Mom’s grave since.”
 

I sigh and lower myself into the chair again. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to do what I always do and move on. Life in this town as I know it is over. I’m getting out while I still have my dignity.”

“You’re coming home.”

Her bark of laughter actually startles me.
 

“I’ll figure something out,” she says. “I always do. First item on my list is to find the asshole who blew up my perfect life.”

“That blogger?”

“It’s a start. Maybe I can sue him for slander or something. God knows I’ll need the money now.”

“You should come home. Just forget about it. Stuff was bound to come out eventually anyway. You know, with the draft and me going pro. Maybe this is a good thing. We could…look him up.” Even as I say it, I know what her answer will be. I also know that I’m not the least bit curious. For the first few years of my life, I ate up anything that had to do with my father. Articles about his band, pictures of them on stage, stories about their concerts. But, by the time I was a teenager, I stopped caring. He was gone, probably dead, and it didn’t matter anymore. I had Uncle Dave and that would have to be enough.
 

“And do what? Ask him where he’s been all our lives?”

I shrug. “What about our uncle?”

“You mean the one we never knew existed?” Mariah scoffs.

“Maybe he didn’t know about us either.” That, I am curious about. Apparently my father was some kind of criminal, so there’s a good chance he spent the better part of my childhood in jail. But my uncle…the article didn’t say anything unsavory about him. Maybe he’s just an innocent bystander.

“I’ve had enough meddling family to last a lifetime. I think I’ll pass.”

I hold her gaze. “You’re really not going to come home? You said yourself you can’t stay here. Why put yourself through the stress of finding somewhere else to start over.”

“I can never go home, Ray. It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is. We can put the past behind us. Deal with all this new stuff together.”

She clasps her hands on top of her head and paces in front of me. Then freezes abruptly, smacking me on the head.

“Wait, did you do this? To draw me out. Because I wouldn’t talk to you? Is this your way of making me come to you? Ruining my life? It is isn’t it? You want me to need you. I mean, who am I kidding? You’re not worried about anything. You’ve got it made. The big bad StingRay Carlson. Most wanted man in America. You’ve got nothing to lose. You’ve got it all.” She scoffs. “Except for the one thing you can’t have. My forgiveness. Well I’ve got news for you—”

“Shut up, Mariah! That’s ridiculous. Would you just…” I sigh. “Why would I do that?” I ask, putting my hands out in front of me as I register the surprise on her face. “I’m sorry. Just give me a minute to think.”

“Yeah you do that, Ray. Think about how you’re going to fix this. About how you’re going to un-ruin my life. You can’t fix this. You can’t fix any of this. The whole world knows every bad thing about me. You shouldn’t have come here.”

 
“I just…” I stand up and reach out to grab her shoulders, holding her steady in front of me. “I came to find you. That’s all. I missed you. You just left without saying goodbye. I looked everywhere. I did everything I could. But I had to go back to school or I swear I would have searched for you myself. I didn’t even know until the other day they gave up. They always told me they’d been looking. For all these years, I thought they were looking. I didn’t know. I swear.”

Her eyes widen. “They? Who? Aunt Sheila?” Mariah snorts and looks me square in the eye. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

I drop my arms. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She laughs lightly but there isn’t much humor on her face. “Oh, my God. She did this. It makes sense. She’s the one trying to draw you out. Ray the big football star. Better run home and do damage control.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does Aunt Sheila know you’re here? Does she know you tracked me down?”