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Authors: Michelle McGriff

Blood Relations (12 page)

BOOK: Blood Relations
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Chapter 26
It was Friday morning; Rashawn was planning to board a plane that afternoon on her way to Phoenix, Arizona. Her thoughts about leaving had been marred by all the drama and bad feelings she was leaving behind in her house. She was stressed to the maximum, and so not leaving was not an option. She knew that. Rashawn wondered if Chance was even still in the house, or maybe he had dressed and left extraordinarily early just to avoid her. Maybe he had gone over to Juanita's to find comfort. “What am I thinking?” she asked herself, slapping her forehead. Rainey was snoring lightly. It was Friday, a day before Rainey would start a two week vacation. Rashawn wondered what she had planned. “Probably reading; what all good girls do,” she whispered, smiling at her beautiful daughter. Rainey was nothing like she was at her age. Maybe it was because she had so many sisters—who knew—but there always just seemed to be so much devilment to get into. Sure, Rainey was only twelve, but at twelve Rashawn already had sisters sixteen and seventeen years old. There was already talk of boys in the house and so much more. It would be a long time before Rashawn would dabble into heavy badness, but still it was all around her. Rainey was innocent; sweet and pure. Of this Rashawn was sure. Reaching over, she stroked her daughter's thick hair and smoothed her brow. No, Rainey didn't have a bad bone in her body—unlike Reggie, who couldn't help but be difficult.
It's in his genes ... it's got to be in his blood,
Rashawn thought, standing, stretching.
Chapter 27
Breakfast was tense and quiet. It had been a long night. There would be no talk about Reggie's college plans, as Rashawn didn't want to hear about it anymore, and by her overt silence she had made that fact known. She didn't care what they were deciding to do—frankly. What was the worst that could happen anyway with Reggie going to look over a college in Oregon with Chance, Rainey, and Junior? She stirred the batter for the hotcakes. She wasn't planning on going into the office today. She decided just to concentrate on leaving town. She figured she could simply e-mail Renee with what she needed done, from the airport.
Reggie and Junior came slowly from the room. They looked none too worn for the wear, considering the night before. Surely Reggie argued with Junior for opening his mouth about the college weekend. Reggie had been thoroughly upset at the thought of taking Junior along.
But ohhhhhh well!
Rashawn thought, but didn't say. “Good morning,” she said instead.
“Good morning,” Junior answered, but not Reggie. He just grunted and sat down at the table. Just then Rashawn thought about Juanita. She would have to call her today to make sure it was okay for Junior to go to Oregon.
I put her out of the equation when in fact—Junior is her
son.
And probably her son only!
Rashawn thought, again shaking her head at the negative pondering. Yes, this weekend was sorely needed. She needed to get her head back in a peaceful place. Maybe that was why she had been dreaming of Allen Roman. She had no peace of mind. All of the negativity was distancing her from her family and those who loved her. Even her sisters who still lived around her were noticing. Something was off and she hadn't felt this way in a long time. Again she thought about Allen Roman and how “off” he had made her life back when he was drugging her. Each day she got more and more clouded in her thinking, until soon her reasoning was completely gone and only a weak shell of a woman had taken over her life.
But not this time! I'll fight these people,
she mumbled under her breath, speaking about her family—her children, her husband, while noticing Chance slowly headed toward the kitchen. He was dressed for class. Sharp and handsome. But she was trying her best to shine him on. She wasn't going crazy again. Nobody was going to control her mind again. Reggie was trying and maybe Chance too. But they weren't going to get away with it.
“I hope everyone is hungry,” Rashawn said, sitting the large platter of hotcakes on the table. Reggie and Junior looked up from where they sat. Their eyes were wide and innocent looking—too innocent looking.
“What are your plans today, Reggie?” she asked.
“I have no plans. I have no life!” he answered dramatically.
“Good,” she answered, turning to Junior. “And you.”
“Me? Oh, I'm just gonna enjoy this beautiful feast with my family,” he answered in his normal quirky way, stabbing at the hotcakes and stacking them on his plate. Chance Sr. cleared his throat after watching him put six on his plate.
“And you, husband of mine?” Rashawn asked, hoping that Chance would open up—maybe even speak his heart over the scrambled eggs and fresh coffee. She needed to know what he was feeling. Had he truly stopped loving her, as Reggie had implied?
Stop it, Rashawn, Reggie didn't imply that. He implied that Chance thinks you're selfish and distant. And well, maybe you are,
she pondered while pouring his coffee.
“You don't have to pretend you're not mad at me,” Chance whispered.
“I'm not mad at you,” Rashawn lied.
“Sure you are,” Chance said, still keeping his voice low.
“I told Reggie that you would take him, Rainey, and Junior to Oregon while I was gone.”
“What? I'm not going to Oregon! How could you just make plans for me like that?” Chance blurted.
“Then I guess they aren't either.”
“What?” Reggie yelped.
“You all can find something fun to do here, until I get back. Then we'll all fly up there together,” Rashawn said calmly, hoisting up the big bowl of grits so that Rainey could serve herself.
“That's so flippin' wrong, Mom! This sucks rocks!” Reggie yelled out, slamming down his fork.
“Heyyy, you need watch yourself there, Reg,” Chance intercepted.
“No, I don't have to watch anything. This is foul. My life isn't for you two to play paddle ball with.”
“Look, don't get beside ya self son!” Chance spoke with firmness and a command for respect. But Reggie wasn't listening.
“I'm not your son!” Reggie said, jumping up from his seat.
“You're my son just as much as Junior is and Rainey is my daughter and what I say goes around here young man!” Chance stood now too.
“Chance, what are you doing?” Rashawn exclaimed. This was getting out of hand. What had she started?
“I've had it! One minute you want me to be a father, and when I'm doing it, you're asking me what I'm doing. Make up your damn mind! Am I Reggie's father or not?”
Rashawn shook her head vehemently. “Are you having some kind of episode?”
Junior quickly grabbed three biscuits and some bacon. “Better get some food to go,” he told Rainey, sounding goofy.
“Put that down! You're not going anywhere!” Rashawn yelled.
“Get what you want, we're getting outta here,” Chance said.
“No, you're not. Nobody is leaving this house!”
“So I guess I'm not a father to this son anymore either!”
The front door slammed in Reggie's wake. Chance called out to him but it was too late.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Rainey cried out, covering her face and giving way to loud wailing.
Rashawn immediately ran to Rainey's side. “See what you've done!”
“Junior, get your stuff, I'm taking you home. You're not going to school today.” Chance's voice was monotone and filled with anger. His face was reddened. Rashawn had never seen him this upset before.
“Man, this is some serious drama jumping off this morning, huh?” Junior mumbled, chewing steadily on a slice of bacon, while Chance stood staring at him sternly.
Suddenly, as if a new reason to be angry crossed his mind, he snapped his finger at Rainey. “Get your stuff, you're getting dropped off ... now!” he yelled. Rainey pulled away from her mother, grabbed her backpack, and quickly followed her brother and father out the door to the car.
“Chance,” Rashawn called after rushing behind them to the door.
“Go on your vacation, Rashawn. We'll get all this fixed when you get back,” he said without looking at her, climbing into the car without saying good-bye. Her heart weighed a ton. How did everything get broken? And how did it all become her fault?
Chapter 28
Just then there was a knock at the door. Thinking it might have been Chance, Juanita scurried to the door, fluffing her wild hair and hoisting up her “not as firm as they once were” breasts. Chance had sounded really upset when he called and so she wanted to be there to comfort him. Junior had told her that Rashawn was stressed out and leaving on vacation today, and so maybe there had been trouble between the lovely couple. “Coming,” she sang. Just then, through the stained glass she saw him, handsome in his black turtleneck sweater and grey leather jacket with matching pants. Immediately the juices began to flow and Chance flew out of her mind as she swung open the door. His eyes covered her. “Mr. Dominguez?” She was trying to keep surprise in her voice, although she was hardly surprised. In her mind, she and Mr. Dominguez were truly destined to meet again.
Juanita could spot a freak a mile away and Mr. Dominguez had addict written all over him. When she was diagnosed as a sex addict ten years ago, it hurt ... it really hurt. That is, until she found so many others like her in her therapy group. Relapses had never been so fun. Closets, backseats of cars, secret meetings ... any and everywhere they could meet for sex, she and a couple of her group members would do it. She'd even learned a new thing or two during that time. When they were all pronounced rehabilitated they gave a party—an orgy of sorts, complete with togas and baked chicken that they ripped apart with their hands.
Chance was an addict too—although he refused to get therapy or admit it. When he and Rashawn first got married, it was a fight to the finish every time he came over to see the baby. Although he was probably wasn't nearly as sick as she had been back then, she could see the weakness in his eyes when he looked at her—even after all this time there was still a weakness, but suddenly, right at this moment, she only could pray he wasn't on his way over for a setback session.
“Ooooh come innnn,” she purred, throwing the door open wide. Just her memories of her past sex life had set her libido in action. Ovan smelled good. Looked good ... He was sex incarnate.
He strolled in, looking around at her décor—the African prints and animal print throw rugs. He then caught sight of her anklet on the visual downswing. It was a thin row of diamonds—a gift from Chance nearly twenty years earlier. Finding it in an old jewelry box a couple of years back, she'd never taken it off. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry and never failed to catch a glance or two—even from Chance.
“Yes, Ms. Duncan. I needed to talk to you about a former client of yours.”
“Client? I thought you wanted to talk about my car.”
“No. I'm not interested in your car ... really. I'd like to discuss Allen Roman.”
“Oh my God, Allen. Yes, he was a client of mine when I had my practice. But I haven't done therapy in years. Besides, he's dead.”
“Yes, I know. I know a lot about you,” he said, causing her stomach to jump in excitement. He was affecting her big time.
“You do? Well, who are you? I mean, you're a cop and all, but—”
“Well, not really a cop as you may think. But I am an enforcer of the law.”
“So, you lied,” Juanita said, holding onto her charm but with a little more caution.
“No, not really ... but let me get to the point. I was able to watch several of the video sessions you and ... May I sit down?” he asked, pointing at her comfy sofa that sat deeper into the living room. She was hoping he would choose that seat. She wanted to sit next to him, smell him ... take in his aura. He was turning her on so badly she couldn't even think straight.
“Certainly,” she coo'd, watching him as he moved through the living room like a runway model. He was dressed nicely, in European designs—down to his shoes, which matched the grey in his leather jacket and pants perfectly. He was a man after her heart—for sure. He was much more fashionable than Chance—but that was not the biggest test she had in store for him to pass. She nearly sat on him while sitting at the same time he did on the sofa. His eyes caught hers in a momentary stare down before he moved over allowing her room.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, moving only inches away from him. His eyes diverted back to his notepad, which he had whipped out of his jacket only a moment earlier, before she all but jumped him.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, where was I?”
“You were wanting to know everything about me ...”
“No, I believe I said I knew a lot about you ... meaning, your former practice.” He smiled coquettishly. “I know you had some quite unusual sessions with Dr. Roman.”
“He was an unusual man. Where did you get the videos?”
“So did you sleep with many of your clients?” he asked abruptly, getting to the point.
Juanita shot up straight on the sofa in her shock and surprise with his bluntness. “What?” she asked, her voice going from sultry to rigid and high-pitched.
“Well, it's obvious you and Dr. Roman had a romp or two so I was just asking because I found that rather interesting that you continued to treat him for ... for ... what were you treating him for?”
Juanita jumped to her feet and began to nervously pace. “Look he was very ... a very controlling man and as I told the police when I turned those movies over that ...” Suddenly it dawned on her that she'd never turned over the video leading up to the sexually compromising sessions she'd had with Allen Roman. “Heyyy, how'd you know about that anyway?” she asked then.
“I wasn't sure until now, but I had a strong feeling. There were one or two films missing in the sequence of films. I guess the police weren't truly concerned about that, but I was and so I had to do some math, and read between the lines.” He chuckled. “The two of you definitely had chemistry, so it wasn't hard to deduce that there had been something there you didn't want the authorities to know. But as I ask again, why did you continue to see him as a therapist once you started having sex with him?”
“Well, it's not like I knew he was crazy, like, bonkers crazy, and besides, I only saw him maybe once or twice after that ... professionally speaking, that is.”
“What about personally?”
“Please. No, he was too busy sexing Rashawn, my ex's wife.”
“Quite an ironic twist don't you think?”
“What?” she asked curiously.
“Him ending up being the father of her son and—”
“What?” Juanita gasped. She never knew that Allen Roman was Reggie's son. Who was this man and how did he know so much about Rashawn's business? Sure it had come out that Roman had been drugging and raping her—that came out in the trial, but as to the paternity of Reggie? No. She had no idea until now.
Just then door opened and Junior walked in with Chance behind him. “Mom! Dad said I don't have to go to school today. Oh, 'cuse me, didn't know you had company.”
Ovan stood and immediately marched over to Chance with his hand out. “Hello, Mr. Davis? I'm Ovan Dominguez.”
Chance looked him over and then at Juanita. His lips were pursed and tight showing his irritation—probably because he believed he'd walked in on an afternoon tryst. “Mr. Dominguez is a cop,” Juanita blurted, sensing what he must have been thinking. “I hit his car yesterday. I mean, he hit me ...”
“Cop? Cool!” Junior blurted out. “Man I wanna be a cop or FBI or CIA—something like that. I wanna do that. Be a spy.”
“Ohh, spyin' ain't for faint heart. Are you tough?” Ovan asked playfully. “You'll have to be tough. Like James Bond kinda tough.”
“Yeah, I'm tough. I'll kick your ass right now,” Junior blurted in playful response.
“Ohhhh, boy's got cajonies.” Ovan laughed.
“Chance, what I tell you about letting him talk like that?” Juanita yelped, her face growing hot with embarrassment—first the arrival of an ex and then the vulgarity of a teenager ... ugh. This was not a good impression to make on her new man.
“What?” Chance asked, sounding puzzled and looking distracted by the fact that Ovan was a cop. “What is it you need here?” he asked.
“He's here to see me—about my car. Okay, maybe not my car all the way, but coincidently he is asking about my old practice. A patient. I can't talk about it while you're here ... HIPPA, client privilege, and all that.”
“Trust me it's not all that serious,” Ovan guaranteed.
Chance noticed Junior getting a little interested in the exchange and shooed him off. “Go to your room or something, boy.”
“Nice looking kid,” Ovan said, glancing over his shoulder in the direction the big boy galloped. “Looks a lot like ...” Ovan turned back to Chance. “You?”
Chance said nothing but turned the attention back on Juanita, who cleared her throat this time. “Maybe we should put this off. I mean, Roman is dead and I'm sure whatever you want to know can wait—” she stammered.
“Allen Roman? What the hell you wanna know about Allen Roman?”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you too,” Ovan stammered awkwardly. “... eventually. More so your wife.”
“Well, I don't wanna talk about it. And she's
not
gonna talk about it. Who the hell are you anyway?”
“Well, I was mostly hoping to speak with your wife and—”
“I don't want you talking to my wife!”
Juanita stepped up to Chance. “Chance, did you know that Allen Roman is Reggie's father? Did you know that? Ovan just told me.”
Ovan sighed heavily. “Perhaps later would be a good time ...” He glanced at Juanita, nodding as if to say goodbye. “Mrs. Duncan.”
“No ... no, there will be no later. You tell me now what this is all about. And, Juanita, it was none of your business who Reggie's father was and therefore you shouldn't have been told!” Chance blurted as his emotions visibly grew. Juanita had never seen Chance this upset. “How the hell did you know that?” Chance asked Ovan.
“Oh, and it's Davis. I changed it back after Junior was born,” Juanita corrected, noticing suddenly that Ovan could care less as he and Chance caught each other up in a death stare. The testosterone-filled fog between them was thick.
“Sorry, Ms. Davis,” Ovan said without looking at her. “I guess I missed it in my notes.”
“It's okay,” she rambled on. She was hoping to ease the tension between Ovan and Chance.
“Allen Roman is not dead. Your wife needs to know that,” Ovan said to Chance in a low rumbling tone.
“You're crazy,” Chance growled back. “And you're not a cop. Who the hell are you and what do you want?”
“You're right, I'm not a cop, but I'm not crazy and I happen to know he's here in the city and very dangerous.”
“How do you know this? And why should we believe you?” Chance asked, pointing at Juanita and then back at himself.
“I'm a special agent working for the British government. Me and small team were assigned to find Allen Roman.”
“Say I believe you—which I don't—what the hell does Britain have to do with anything?” Chance was still rumbling as if deciding if he would erupt.
“Roman killed a man there, a doctor. As you know Roman is not a stranger to this type of dastardly deed. We believe his reasons for killing this man led to him killing again—here,” Ovan explained.
“And this concerns me and my family how?”
“Anyone related to Roman needs to worry,” Ovan said flatly, glancing over at Juanita who fought the urge to squirm.
“Okay, I'm bored in there,” Junior said, entering the room right at that time. Juanita looked at his tall stature and dark skin tone, his loose lopping curls and coal black eyes. The men grew immediately quiet as everyone's attention now went to Junior. Juanita could see that Chance's brain was spinning.
“I've got to get outta here,” he blurted, rushing out to the car. Ovan and Juanita stood silently in the doorway watching him rip out of the driveway, screeching his tires. Junior then stood, between the both of them.
“Are you my mom's new boyfriend or something because I've never seen my dad so pissed off before,” he asked.
Ovan glanced sideways at Juanita who now felt the heat rising up on her cheeks. “Junior, please, it's not the time for jokes. Do you know where Reggie could be?”
“School, probably ... maybe.”
“Maybe?” Juanita asked.
“Well, when he left the house this morning, he was really hacked. Dad and his mom really screwed up his plans to go to Eugene this weekend. . . and, well, I guess mine too, for that matter. But then again, Reggie didn't want me to go with him anyhow.”
“Why is Reggie going to Oregon this weekend?” Ovan asked.
“College tour. He got this call from a scout who wants him to come.”
BOOK: Blood Relations
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