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Authors: Michelle McGriff

BOOK: Blood Relations
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Chapter 70
“I don't see anything in this snow.” Chance said nearly leaning out of the helicopter. They had spied the SUV in the ditch and now searched for Roman's car or worse, the boys' dead bodies.
Circling, Ovan took the helicopter dangerously low. Chance could feel his stomach easing upward but he fought the sensation to vomit.
“Look there,” Ovan said pointing to a clearing down below. I think that's a car.”
“God! look!” Chance exclaimed seeing what looked like a large animal crumbled on the ground not far from the car. “It's Roman! It's gotta be!”
Just then they saw the boys, waving frantically on the hill side, begging to be rescued.
“There they are! There they are!!” Chance screamed excitedly.
Chapter 71
Spring had taken a while to come in this year. It was still cold and fog hung over the Palemos until nearly noon on most days.
Rashawn didn't mind, as her home was warm and cozy. With the extra time she had now, she'd even gotten around to installing the insert in the fireplace so that they could use it. Normally she was too busy to worry about the little comforts like that but not anymore. She'd taken a year's sabbatical. It was understood by the University's hiring committee; however, her job as dean would not be waiting for her when she returned, if she returned to Moorman. She didn't care. Her body needed time, her family needed time. Reggie needed her time. The counselors said his refusal to talk about the shooting was normal and it may be years before he would be able to face what he'd done.
His physical health had returned for the most part, although there were intermittent nerve spasms from the animal tranquilizer Hap Washburn had stabbed him with. This condition would prevent him from playing professional football for a long time—if ever. But he had other skills. He was an excellent artist. He could work with oils and other medium and was getting better with each portrait or still life.
From the window, Rashawn could see Chance pulling in with Junior behind the wheel. They were talking and Chance was smiling. It was good seeing them both smile again. Rashawn believed in her heart that Junior and Chance had been through the worst of all this. Their innocence was snatched from them and only the worse of realities were left for them to deal with—with no preparation at all. At least she had always felt one day Reggie would have to come to grips with who his father was. She didn't know to what degree and sure she never thought it was be life or death but still she knew the day would come—but not Junior. She knew all along that Reggie had the blood of a madman flowing through him but not Junior. Poor Chance—Rashawn never felt Chance would have to deal with Allen Roman on any level again. It had been beyond traumatic for Chance and Junior to have their lives ripped apart this way.
Rashawn thought about her conversation with Juanita in the hospital—Juanita had come to see her.
“How sorry do I need to be Rashawn?” Juanita said, sitting the flowers on the table by the window. “Because trust me ... I have enough sorry to cover all the bases. I swear it.”
“Not sure what you mean?” Rashawn answered.
“I've lied. I've cheated. I've schemed. I'ma mess,” she went on, smiling weakly.
“Juanita, you act like any of that hurt anybody other than yourself,” Rashawn told her.
“And my son,” she said, squeezing her lips together so that her dimple appeared in her cheek.
“Yes. You've hurt Junior.”
“And Chance too,” Juanita added. “I tore his world apart. He doesn't love me anymore,” she said, sounding truly sad—no act this time. Rashawn remembered feeling sad for Juanita. Realizing then how much she counted on Chance's love and would do anything to keep it.
“Juanita. Chance has always loved you in his own way, and I think he always will. But this is something he's going to have to get over. Junior too. Chance is not his father. You should have told him. Sure he could have guessed or whatever. . . but it was your job to tell him straight out. Even if you didn't know about Allen Roman, you should have said something—given the man some credit.”
“I ...” Juanita stammered but held onto her dignity as much as she could. “I didn't want to lose him.”
“Ahh,” Rashawn nodded.
“He loves you so much and I didn't want to lose him to you.”
“Well ... I don't know what to say.”
“They were so close, Chance and Junior,” Juanita sighed. “God I can't believe I let this happen. I know I didn't know about Allen being Junior's father but I could have found out. I had my doubts but I . ..”
Rashawn fanned her hand to silence her. “Juanita, it's okay. Chance is not going to stop loving Junior. He's just not. Just like he never treated Reggie any different even after what happened to him. Chance is the only father those boys know.”
“Chance is a big man.” Juanita nodded in agreement with her words.
“Yes, he is. And he's a good father.”
“Yes, he is. Rainey is a lucky girl.”
“Reggie and Junior are lucky boys.”
Rashawn reached out for her hand. Jaunita grabbed it tight. “Shawnie, you know we can't be friends, right?”
Juanita smiled in her normal naughty way. She was a vixen and no matter what she would always be one.
Rashawn smiled back and then furrowed her brow playfully. “God no ... never that.”
“Hey Shawnie, what's good to eat?” Junior asked, walking in the house, bringing her mind back to the now.
“Oh man I cooked up a storm. You name it, I cooked it,” Rashawn teased, “full moon you know that.”
“Oh I love a full moon at your house. Ma just starts howling, at least here there's food.” Junior joked. Rashawn snickered. “Where's my brother?”
“In his room painting of course,” Rashawn answered watching Junior head down the hall. From behind he looked just like Reggie. Big and bulky. He'd grown a lot in a year and now it was undeniable they were brothers. The resemblance was crystal clear now that everyone allowed themselves to see it.
Chance kissed her lightly on the lips and stared at her a long time. “I love you,” he said.
“And you'll just never know how much I love you.”
Epilogue
“Juanita. I can't believe this, you're forty-six years old.”
“You can't? Oh my God if you only knew how much I didn't want to believe it,” Juanita gasped. “Can I do this? I mean physically—can I really do this?”
“I think so. You're a strong woman,” he said. “All that taking care of yourself last year paid off. You're strong as a horse.”
Staring at the doctor, her eyes burned. It had been over fifteen years since she sat in this seat confused and wondering what to do about her predicament. The last time she was scared and lied about who was responsible. But this time, there would be no need. She had fallen in love with Ovan—with his crazy ass. Domonic Tollome—Blain Tollome's brother. And best of all he had fallen in love with her. Still he traveled all over the world in disguise, lying about his identity—whatever it took to catch a skip. As an international bounty hunter, he was always busy but at least now he had a home to come to when he finished the job. He had told her once that after his brother Blain had been killed he realized he had no one. His mother died not too many years after his father was murdered by Allen Roman's father.
“It's a weird feeling knowing you're not related to anyone,” he had told her. “I refused to think that Allen Roman was my only kin ... ugh God. So when I found out about Reggie and that Roman was actually going to kill him. I had to stop him. Even though we don't share blood—Reggie well, Junior too, they're my family—in a way.”
“That's why you said it was a personal matter.”
“Quite. I wasn't supposed to even be on the case,” he added, biting the grape from the small bunch she held over his head. “Coulda lost my license but ... didn't care. And now look—again it's all worked out.” They'd been lounging all day since he would be leaving the next morning.
“It's kinda weird you ‘sorta' being related to my son and now we're ...” Juanita giggled shyly. He pulled her head in to his and kissed her hungrily.
“How about this, lovey, I'll be ‘sorta' related to him and have relations with you, is that all right?” he joked. Juanita laughed not knowing even then, that they would have more than simply relations, now he would truly be blood related. Now with the baby coming, he would be family.
Questions for Discussion
1.
What are your thoughts on Juanita?
2.
Do you think she is a redeemable character?
3.
What are your thoughts on Ovan?
4.
Do you think he and Juanita are meant for each other?
5.
Why did Chance not find out about Chance Jr.'s, true paternity sooner?
6.
Do you think Chance still loved Juanita?
7.
Is it possible for a man to love his ex-wife and still be loyal to his current one?
8.
Do you feel that Junior is an unusually happy boy or perhaps he's inwardly dark and harboring resentments toward Juanita, Rashawn, and Chance?
9.
Do you believe that Reggie will recover from this experience and if so, what will his relationships with his mother, brother, and Chance be like?
10.
What was your favorite part of the book?
UPCOMING NOVEL
Back Matter
A Dark Comedy
Introduction
In the world of entertainment, we the public only see what we are shown. Concealed behind fictitious names and events, there's often much truth hidden behind flowery rhetoric and even more behind blatant lies. Frequently, the story heard is not the true story told. Metaphorically speaking, the meaty truth of the tale is sometimes within the written pages of fiction, far from the spine, and sometimes, we can get a glimpse of that truth from what we read on the back cover.
The only problem with that is when one tastes life via this abstract version—this thing called fiction—for so long, after a while one may no longer know what's real and what's made up.
Back Matter
is a story about just that.
—Aurora Middleton—
Back Matter
 
 
by
 
Michelle McGriff
Chapter 1
The limousine arrived in front of the elegant hotel. Her heart was pounding but she knew this was the night of nights for her so she would have to do this. There would never be a second chance to make this first impression. The millionaire James Byron Smith would be here tonight, and along with him his entourage of band members, and an assortment of large bodyguards.
Her heart was beating like a wild island drum as her breathing became shallow, so much so that it was more like a panting. This panting caused her ample bosom to rise and fall, her areolas tipping dangerously near the edge of her low-cut designer original—the off-the-shoulder number. She was looking like an Oprah impersonator.
She smoothed down the velvet over her svelte hips and stepped out onto the red carpet strip.
Her diet had worked wonders. She had dropped sixty pounds in ten days. Surely, she looked twenty-five again, instead of forty.
Forty. Who invented such an ugly number?
Against the flashing of the cameras aimed at Mr. Smith, she had to cover her eyes as she walked past him, trying not to stare at the handsome millionaire.
Suddenly he spied her attempting to get through the tight crowd. He saw her trying her best to play coy and shy, and pushed past his protectors.
Again, he had come to this gala without his wife.
“Rebecca!” he called to her, his voice deep and rumbling, just like it sounded on his albums. Just like she remembered it from the last time they were together—back in the days when he was just another poor working stiff. Back when they were in love. James Smith had been her first lover—her true love.
Feeling the heat of his eyes staring at her, she froze.
“Yes, Mr. Smith,” she said, her voice just above a peep.
“Rebecca, is it really you? The woman I've loved for so many years. The woman who truly owns my heart? I love you. Tell me you love me and we'll run off,” he said, reaching for her hand and pulling it to his well-defined chest.
“Oh Mr. Smith, I love you too,” she answered, gasping now for air, leaning her sinuous body towards him.
“Call me James,” he said, his lips sliding into a crooked smile—a sexy smile that had a meaning behind it. “Just say my name and I'll take you away with me.”
“Jason,” she said before shaking her head noticing the name that came from her lips. She attempted to say the name James and yet found herself unable. Only the name of her control freak boyfriend Jason came out of her mouth, choking her.
She began gasping for air now; it was as if every time she tried to say the name James, Jason, through his wicked controlling power over her, took more of her life from her.
Collapsing, she saw James Smith's eyes locked on her.
She reached for his hand to save her, only to have it intercepted by the large bodyguard pulling him back.
“Jason? Jason?” Aurora screamed, pressing the backspace key, deleting the name of her ex-husband from the page. “She called the man Jason. Umph Umph Umph. See, you gotta get away from that nut factory or he's gonna kill all your joy fa sho,” she said, yelling at the character Rebecca that she'd created.
“Girl are you still going crazy in there with that book you call yourself writing,” her sister said, passing by the library where she sat typing away.
“Call myself writing? Samantha, I already told you, I'm the one who wrote Jason's bestseller—not him. He stole my manuscript and made big bucks off my creativity. Now I'm gonna write another book and just do better than him ... show his ass what real talent looks like.”
“Umhmm,” her sister chuckled, heading on her way.
Aurora slapped her forehead. She was getting nowhere on this novel. She was totally blocked for sure. At first she was all fired up—anger being her biggest kindling. She was out for payback and this was the only way she figured she could get it. But now—it just wasn't happening.
She had “helped” her ex-husband out with a writing project a couple of years ago that backfired. She'd leant her talents and imagination to his sorry, slow and very dull manuscript landing him a book deal—one that carried with it a tasty movie option. “And with what thanks? None.” Jason not only cheated on her but left her pretty much without any recourse or proof that she co-authored the book with him. “Entertainment lawyers and their tricks.” Aurora remembered her humiliation while trying to prove she'd written most of the book—if not all. She felt foolish when not even her friends believed she had that much talent. “Why? Because I was fat? Because I didn't finish high school? Because I never had a real job?” The memory, even now had her tempted to reach for something to shove in her mouth for comfort. She was a mess during that whole thing.
But no sooner than all that started, it ended. The year flew by and before she knew it, Jason was back in her face begging for forgiveness. She gave in. “And now look at me ... alone again.” She shook her head and moved back from the keyboard. The smells wafting from the kitchen were divine. She had to admit her sister may not believe in her talent but she sure was good at taking care of her health. Since recovering from her mini breakdown she'd been living with her big sister. With eating right and exercise—including yoga for stress, she'd lost over one hundred pounds in the last year. Doctors had told her that she was suffering from delusions and grief of her talent dysplasia—or better said she was trying to take Jason's talent for her own because she had none. But she wasn't. And to prove it to herself she wrote—manuscript after manuscript—tucking them away in a hat box in her closet.
About a year later, Jason came back for the second round of “pin the tail on Aurora”—that's what Aurora liked to call it. Still overweight and suffering from low self esteem, she took him back. During that brief stay, he called her his muse, his love, and his forgiveness angel—and then when he left he'd not only taken her heart, he'd stolen her manuscripts.
And this time, not only did he get a book deal but ended up on the
New York Times
. With her book! He'd changed nothing ... not even the title. Aurora was livid, but this time, she knew better than to try to win him in court. This time she planned to beat him at his own game.
Chapter 2
Looking in the mirror at her naked body, Aurora sighed heavily.
“What's the point with losing all this weight if it all it does is make everything sag?' she asked the reflection. She so dreaded getting old and even more so, with the prospects of getting old alone.
Tomorrow was her birthday. She would be forty.
So far, no one had commented on the event, however, she hadn't gone downstairs. She could tell by the whispered secrets and hush-hush talk, her sisters were planning something horrible—like a party, to rub in and document this terrible moment in life.
“And if Michael shows up with that camcorder his ass is grass,” she growled, pointing her finger at the mirror, threatening her brother-in-law. “He knows me. I'll fight 'im,” she added, pulling on her heavy robe and slipping her feet into her slippers.
Downstairs, Aurora found her older sister sitting at the table looking over papers. She was deep in thought.
Life had dealt her sister some blows over the last couple of years. Aurora often wondered if her sister was really dealing with things as well as she appeared to be, or was she nearing the breaking point herself. First, Samantha's husband died suddenly in a mountain climbing accident and then she found out he'd left her with a shitload of debt. To add insult to injury she then found out he was having an affair. That was discovered when they recovered his body—along with his lovers at the bottom of that ravine. Aurora felt terrible for her sister's trauma, although, she had to admit, it would make a tremendous storyline in the next book she'd plan to write as soon as she finished this one. She was almost done.
Aurora shook her head at the thought of her sister. Despite her losses, she still took her in and cared for her without asking for a dime. Sure after a while Aurora had gotten a job at the corner convenience store, but that wasn't paying much. But after the publication of her newest novel, she'd make millions, just as Jason had done. Only she would share her wealth with those who loved her.
Writing had been what Aurora had enjoyed for a few years now. It had become a hidden passion that only one person had been made privy to, and unfortunately, he'd taken full advantage of the knowledge, and of her. With a heavy sigh, Aurora shook the thought from her mind and headed to the coffee pot. Aurora didn't want to think about Jason's success, obtained with her words, her thoughts, her manuscript.
“I could just kill him,” she mumbled audibly.
“What?” asked Samantha, distant sounding and distracted.
Poor thing, she is a mess,
Aurora thought, looking at her sister sitting there, thin and frail—tired and haggard looking. She was vegan and maybe they all looked that way—at least that was what Aurora surmised from Samantha's skinny vegan friends, but for some reason Samantha looked not quite as healthy as they did. Samantha played the flute in a local orchestra. She traveled a little but not enough to wear her out as much as she appeared to be.
“Oh, nothing I was just thinking about Jason again and all this book stuff,” Aurora admitted, giving into the realities of it all. Jason and that damned three-figure contract for his second book!
My second book
, she mused.
The first one she had given him freely, as love had motivated her to share of herself this way. But this second book, it was plagiarism, thievery pure and simple. But how could she prove it. She'd written it long hand. There wasn't even a computer trail—nothing.
One night of passion had cost her in a big way.
Aurora thought about it all now. She had tried to resist him, but with Jason's pretty face—soft features, topped off with those light green contacts—honey, he was just too fine to resist.
Aurora squirmed a little now, thinking of his talents between the sheets. He was one who seemed to really get off on oral sex and would often treat her to a little before asking for reciprocation. And then the fun would begin. As big as she was, he easily handled the job, flipping her here and there and over and yarn. “Wow,” she whispered, thinking aloud.
“What?” Samantha asked again.
“Oh, nothing,” she lied.
“You really need to get Jason off your mind girl. He's gone. It's over,” Samantha said, letting her own bitterness show.
“Sweetie what's wrong?” Aurora asked, sensing her sister's need to talk. However, instead of words, Samantha burst into tears. Aurora rushed over to her quickly putting her arm around her shoulder.
“They cut my position from the orchestra. I'm gonna lose the house,” she cried.
Aurora stood up straight. “What? Where is your savings?”
“What savings. Douglas left me with so much debt.” Samantha sniffed—snorted actually. “I had to use my savings to pay it all off ... and still I owe so much money,” she cried. Her nose was reddening under her smooth brown skin tone.
“Why in the hell did you do that? Why did you pay off Douglas's bills?” Aurora asked, choking out the words. “I wouldn't have paid shit. I would have sent his lover's family an invoice. I mean come on! Half those bills he racked up cheating on you!”
“Aurora stop,” Samantha pleaded, sliding from her chair and moving back from the table as if distancing herself from the letter. “There's more.”
“More?”
“Douglas and that ... that woman had a child.”
That was too much. Aurora threw up her hands in disgust. This was one too many subplots to this girl's sad tale of despair.
Wow,
Aurora thought. If only she could rewrite her sister's life, how different this would come out for her.
“You're not gonna lose your house I promise you. Once my book gets picked up—”
“Stop, Aurora. This is a real problem here,” Samantha snapped, shutting her down with the slice of her hand. “Now stop it. Sure, if you and Jason were together and you could like ...” Samantha paused as if formulating a plan. “You could borrow some money from him for me, then sure. But all this talk about you writing a book, well I don't want to hear it!”
Aurora was fit to be tied, but something inside kept her from going off. She loved Samantha—maybe that was it. “You're not gonna lose your house.” Aurora grabbed her cup of coffee and stormed into the library, slamming the door behind her. She had work to do.
Aurora thought back to when it all started. It took a while to realize Jason had stolen the manuscript as Aurora had gotten busy with all else going on—Douglas's funeral and all that other nonsense. Needless to say, when her former best friend, Jason's then agent and mistress, Stacy, called to tell her about Jason breaking their contract and jumping ship to hook up with another agent, Aurora was a little taken back. “And I care about this why?”
That's when Stacy mentioned Jason's new secret manuscript.
“Jason doesn't have a new manuscript,” Aurora had divulged to Stacy, who sighed loudly. “I know this because he was in my bed trying to write one—unsuccessfully I might add. I tried to tell you idiots he didn't write the first one but oooh well. Soon he gave up and made love to me,” she said, digging it in that Jason had come back to her.
“Aurora don't be hating,” she had said then, attempting slang, which was not her strong suit, being of Minnesota stock.
“I'm telling you, Jason doesn't have a new manuscript. Jason didn't have an old manuscript. So unless he took a class, or stole another one, Jason didn't write anything,” Aurora countered, listening to only silence as Stacy's response to her comments.
Aurora hadn't thought to make a contract with Jason over the first book and felt like a fool trusting him to be fair with the advance and royalty installments—the only one who got anything out of that deal besides Jason was Stacy.
“Stacy ...” Aurora called out. She remembered that feeling in her chest—it was just like the one she had now, thinking about Douglas and all he was putting her sister through—even from the grave. “Stacy, Jason doesn't have a manuscript? Right!”
“And it wasn't even my best work,” Aurora scowled now thinking about the manuscript and that conversation with Stacy. “And the fool got a three book deal out of it.” Suddenly thinking about Stacy, she started chuckling. “Ohhh Stacy was so pissed. She missed out on a lot of money. Ha! I keep forgetting I wasn't the only woman scorned in that deal. Wonder who Stacy is holding up.”
Holding a grudge was one of Stacy's biggest character flaws, Aurora remembered. She'd not heard from Stacy since all that went down. “And good riddance I say,” she mumbled, typing the finishing touches on her manuscript. It was the story of a woman who had found an old love but her new lover would not let her go. So she decided to murder the new lover in order to free herself of the spell he had on her. “Dumb sort of, but kinda cool in a way,” she thought aloud. She used Jason as the new lover who was in the way of her character finding her way back to her first love. “And now to kill him,” she laughed wickedly sitting at her computer and getting down to the dirty business. “Ooooh honey and this is gonna hurt you way more than it's gonna hurt me!” she cackled wickedly.

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