Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) (22 page)

Heat rose within her as he planted kisses along her jawbone, down her neck to her shoulder. In an effort to cool herself and warm him, she nudged the straps of her sundress to either side. The soft material glided along the curve of her hips to the floor. The minute light making its way from the kitchen caught the glint of Samson’s approving smile, sending her already racing heart into warp drive.

He glanced over his shoulder at the bed, then sat on the edge, positioning her between his legs. His mouth level with her breasts, he splayed his hands across her back and pulled her forward, suckling.

She moaned as she leaned into him. Her hands caressing his scalp for more pressure.

He looped his finger in her only remaining piece of clothing, her panties, and tugged.

How she wanted to give in, but not yet. She admired his body since day one and would take her time to explore the goodness that was Samson. He moved up on the bed and lay back as she straddled him. His feather-light stroking of her arms with his hands weakened her resolve. She squirmed a little, trying to shake the imaginary hold he had on her to no avail. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Holding onto her hips, he rocked her slowly over his hardness. Unsure if she could wait any longer, another moan escaped her. In one fluid motion, he rolled them both over, switching their places.

“You have me at an unfair disadvantage,” she purred, unfastening his belt.

He ran his hands, then his lips, along her breasts, to her waist, until he finally found her panties. Her inner thighs quivered with pleasure as he tenderly suckled. Riding the waves of passion one second, the next her panties were gone, and he lay bare beside her.

Wanting a man this badly can’t be healthy
, she thought as her eyes finished adjusting to the minimal light. She laced her hands behind his neck and lowered his mouth to hers, fully tasting him. An indescribable rush flowed through her as visions of their life together played in her mind.

He took one of her breasts into his mouth as his fingers entered her. Shortly, her body heaved and arched as his hands and mouth sent her on a short run to ecstasy and back. Anxious to give him the same pleasure, she wrapped her hand around his hardness and gently stroked as she lowered herself.

“Rosa, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Loving him being vulnerable for a change, she continued her descent, then took him into her mouth and enjoyed herself.

A short time later, he suddenly pulled her up and rested between her legs. He glanced at the bathroom. “Are you ready to start our family?” he whispered huskily into her ear as he pressed his throbbing hardness against her heat.

Juan came to her mind, the little boy she’d taught to step at her birthday party. Giving him back to his mother was becoming harder every time she babysat him. She didn’t want Bolívar International; she wanted her company, her own baby, her own husband, her own family. She wanted Samson.

She coiled her arms under Samson’s and over his shoulders, then pulled. He filled her completely: mind, body, and soul. Their bodies instinctively moved together, sealing their bond forever. Legs linked around his thighs, she urged him to go harder, deeper. He happily obliged, lacing his fingers with hers as both shuddered from the turbulence of the passion rocking them to their final destination. Each cried out in pure ecstasy as his seed burrowed deep inside her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Samson looked up from the computer screen in Rosa’s home office. “How are you feeling this morning?” Holding out his hand, he turned the chair toward her.

“I’ve been better.”

He pulled her close and stood her between his legs with his hands on her hips. “My timing last night wasn’t the best. I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you change your mind.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes. “The timing was perfect. I could use a taste of happiness about now.” She nodded toward the computer screen. “What are you up to?”

“Writing my letter of resignation. I’ll fax it to the chief tomorrow morning. In two weeks, I’ll be a free man. In two weeks and a day, we’ll be married.” He paused. “If I can wait that long.”

“I have no idea how I’ll tell Daddy. He’ll think I’m betraying him.”

“You can do no wrong in his eyes. If anything, he’ll think I’m manipulating you.”

Face scrunched up, she said, “As if that’s any better. I want for you two to get along.” She backed away, blowing air out of her mouth. “I’m taking a walk before I change clothes. I’ll have my cell on me.”

The usual determination and confidence behind her steps was gone, and her shoulders were slightly slouched. He returned to writing his resignation with Rosa on his mind. A half hour later, the letter still only contained his return address and the date. He looked out the window. Rosa was in the backyard sitting on the ground near the sandbox.

“Give it time, baby,” he mouthed.

He returned to the letter of resignation but couldn’t focus. He checked the time in the lower right corner of the screen. One of the family limos would be there to pick them up shortly. He shut down the word processing program and went outside to ready Rosa.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’ve never understood why people call these weeds. Daddy says my yard is in need of weed-and-feed.” She handed him a giant dandelion. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yes, they are.” He wiped away her tears as he sat with her on the blanket of grass, dandelions, and clover.

“I used to give Mom dandelion clover bouquets.” She combed her hand through the grass and selected another plump dandelion. “They were the only cheap thing she ever liked.”

“A clover’s stem is so much shorter and thinner than a dandelion’s. How did you make it work?”

She gathered a few dandelions into a big yellow bunch and handed them to him. She picked out several white clover flowers and placed them throughout the dandelions. “The clovers will die first because they can’t reach the water.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “When I was a child, I used to wish Anna was my mom. When we moved, Daddy practically had to force me to answer Mom’s calls. That’s when her drinking got worse. It’s my fault.”

Samson tilted her chin up with his knuckle. “That’s not true. I’ve interviewed her first husband. Her drinking problem started in her first marriage and gradually became worse. Don’t start blaming and punishing yourself. I’ve been there, done that.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I keep telling myself this was just a tragic accident, but it’s hard. One minute I’m on cloud nine, the next I’m being drenched in a rainstorm.”

He held her hand close to his heart. “We’ll take this one second at a time.”

* * *

If one more person told Rosa they knew how she felt or Harriet was in a better place now, she’d scream. She saw her aunt, Angela, rush off to the back of the church where the Sunday school classes were located. Ernesto and Anna had just left the repast, so Angela was the only person in the room that might know how she felt.

“Rosa,” Samson whispered into her ear, breaking her out of her trance. “If this is too much for you, we should leave.”

She caressed his face, thankful he understood her so well. “I want to say goodbye to Aunt Angela. We haven’t had a chance to say one word to each other.”

Rosa searched the small classrooms for her aunt. “Hello, Aunt Angela,” she said as she entered one of the rooms. “I’m sorry, we haven’t—”

“How could you bring that murderer here?” Angela snapped as she marched toward her niece.

Head tilted and face scrunched up, Rosa held her hands up slightly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“How could you disrespect my sister, your mother?” she raged. “I know Harriet had her faults, but this…” She lowered her short graying Afro. “How could you, Rosa? I thought you were different.”

“Aunt Angela, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“He killed her! He murdered her!” Shaking with fury, she clinched her tiny fists.

“No one killed Mom. It was a car accident.” Rosa heard the door open, but didn’t look to see who entered. The strength she felt silently supporting her told her it was Samson. “Calm down. You’re upset.”

The worry wrinkles adorning Angela’s face seemed to deepen, making her look like a shattered, chocolate Valentine’s heart. “Upset? Honey, I passed upset years ago. You turn a blind eye to Ernesto’s treachery, then have the audacity to bring that murderer to my sister’s funeral.” She stepped closer to Rosa. “He murdered Harriet!” Closer. “He murdered her!” And closer. “Murdered her!” she drawled out, standing toe-to-toe with Rosa.

Rosa inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I love you, Aunt Angela, and know this is your pain speaking. Take it out on me if you need.” She hunched her shoulders. “I can take it.”

“Take it? You won’t even admit it.”

“There’s nothing to admit. Mom died in a car accident.”

An eerie giggle escaped Angela as she backed away. “How can anyone so smart be so stupid? Come off it, Rosa. I know the whole story.” She raised accusing brows. “The story you pretend doesn’t exist.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Harriet’s been calling me since you found out about David. As an insurance policy, she sent me a copy of the pictures she gave to you. She said that if anything happened to her, Ernesto was the cause.”

“Mom hates Daddy and often made up stories to stir up trouble,” she stated, truthfully. “He wouldn’t hurt her or anyone,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

“He killed her, so she can’t hate him anymore.”

“You’re wrong. It was an accident.”

“Step out of denial into reality, Rosa. Ernesto set his best friend up to be sent to death row because David wanted to tell you he was your biological father. Now, Ernesto had Harriet
murdered
because she wanted to show you that he is nothing more than a drug lord in sheep’s clothing. She couldn’t tell you because you never believed her. You always took Ernesto’s side.”

Rosa crossed her arms over her chest. “Daddy didn’t make David murder anyone, just as he didn’t make Mom drink and drive.”

“I know Harriet liked to drink; but after Ernesto took you away from her, she replaced you with the bottle. Her becoming a drunk is his fault, too.”

“Why couldn’t Mom take responsibility for her actions? Did he make her drink during her first marriage also? Stop blaming Daddy for her mistakes. That was her problem in life. Now you’re making it yours in her death. Mom could see me whenever she wanted. She left us, not the other way around. She told me Daddy didn’t love me and was leaving us. Then, she left!” Rosa stepped back, slightly bumping into one of the tiny desk.

“How the hell could Harriet arrange to have her things moved in the middle of the night?” Angela made the sign of the cross. “Forgive me, Father, for cursing. This child has worked my last nerve.”

“I was only six when they divorced. All I know is that when I went to bed, she was there. When I woke up, she was gone. When Daddy took me to visit her,
she
refused to see
me
.” She poked herself in the chest as she spoke. “I heard her through the door. She didn’t want me. Daddy didn’t keep me away.”

“Ernesto has you well-trained.” She brushed by Rosa and Samson on her way out.

* * *

Missing the beauty of families enjoying the sunny Sunday afternoon, Rosa stared out the limousine window. She’d forgotten about the photo album. She remembered leaving it on the living room table, but why had Ernesto taken it? The possibilities, Angela’s accusations, and Ernesto’s behavior churned angrily in her stomach. There was only one real answer; Ernesto had arranged Harriet’s murder to look like an accident, just as he’d set David on the path to death row.

“Rosa.”

“He knows what buttons to push,” she said aloud to herself.

“Who?” Samson asked as the limo turned onto Rosa’s street.

“Daddy,” she replied softly. “I’m scared, Samson.” She glanced up and saw Alton sitting on her porch swing. “What is he doing here?” The car pulled into her driveway. “I’m in no mood for him today.”

“I called him. After the scene with Angela, I thought we should hear what Alton’s investigation into Harriet’s death turned up, together.”

“Do you think Daddy had something to do with Mom’s death?”

He took her hand into his. “From what I’ve seen of him, no. She’s the mother of his child.” They watched as the chauffer rounded the car.

“But, David was my father and Daddy…” She looked away. “Daddy didn’t even check on me after David’s death. It’s true, isn’t it? What Angela said?”

“I don’t know, baby. I just don’t know.”

The driver opened the door. Samson escorted Rosa along the walk and up the stairs as the chauffer slowly pulled out in the car. Alton stood, allowing Rosa to take his seat on the porch swing.

“I know I’m not your favorite person,” Alton said with an apologetic grin. “But, I want for you to listen to me about something.”

“It’s been a long day—”

“Have you ever heard of a mean drunk?” he interrupted. “Well, my mother was the meanest drunk ever.”

Ears perked up, Rosa relaxed her defensive stance and gazed into his sorrowful, blue eyes.

“I can’t tell you how many times I wished she was dead. At the time, I thought I meant it. Late one night, this cop came by our house.” He hunched his shoulders. “Actually, he came over to Samson’s parents’ because my mom had left me home alone, again. I was eight when she decided to get drunk and drive the wrong way down the highway. I blamed myself for years…” he trailed off. “I’d wished her dead, but I didn’t mean it. I blamed myself. Of all the times for God to answer my prayers, he answered the one that took my mother away.”

Rosa gently gripped his hand. “I’m sorry, Alton.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He cleared his throat and swiped the imaginary wrinkles off his Marlins jersey, then told Rosa what led to Harriet’s death.

“So, Daddy didn’t have anything to do with it,” she stated, more than asked.

“No. I even have the phone records of the bartender calling the police when Harriet refused to wait for the taxi. It was a tragic accident. The same as my mother’s.”

Guilt washed over her relief as her shaky hands covered her mouth. “Oh, my God. How could I think such a horrible thing about Daddy?”

“I’m not trying to be insensitive, but just because Harriet’s death was an accident, doesn’t mean he isn’t a part of the Martín cartel.”

“Not now, Alton,” Samson warned.

Alton has a point
, thought Rosa. Ernesto had taken the photo album. She felt bile working its way up her esophagus. She ran to the railing, leaned over, and emptied the little contents of her stomach.

Samson whipped his white handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped her mouth. “Let’s go into the house. Alton, hand me her purse. I need the keys.”

Rosa shook her head. “You don’t understand. Angela…” She inhaled deeply, praying some of the oxygen would make it to her brain so she could think clearly again. “The album… He took the album… This isn’t happening.”

Samson and Alton stared at each other for what seemed an eternity.

“How could he?” Rosa staggered across the porch. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Samson quickly pulled Rosa’s keys out of her purse and unlocked the door. “We don’t know anything for sure.” He opened the door and ushered her in. “I’ll catch you later, Alton,” he said as he closed the door.

Rosa didn’t have the energy to make it to the living room. She leaned against the wall, willing the couch to her. “What if Daddy’s a part of the Martín cartel?”

He dropped her purse and keys on the entry table, then held her close. “You’ll make it through whatever the truth is. We don’t know the truth yet.” He led her into the living room where they sat on the sectional.

“He might actually be guilty, Samson. How could I have been so wrong?”

Samson sighed heavily, reached under the couch and pulled out the photo album. “I didn’t think you wanted Ernesto to see this.”

Eyes focused on the album, they wouldn’t move. “He didn’t take the album?”

“I meant to tell you I’d moved it, but I forgot.”

“Daddy didn’t have anything to do with Mom’s death, and he doesn’t even know the album exists.” She brushed her hand over the album’s leather cover. “I convicted him on the words of a grief-stricken woman.”

“You’ve been through a lot. You jumped to a logical conclusion.”

“But, I know Daddy.” Flashes of Alton and Samson staring at each other, looking like they were caught red handed, bombarded Rosa. “How does Alton know about the album?” she asked slowly.

“I told him about it.”

“And?”

“And he’s working on identifying the men in the photos.”

She snatched the album out of his hands. “You son of a bitch! You let him copy my album, didn’t you?”

“The Martín syndicate is the largest in the world. It’s my job—”

“To betray my trust!” she finished for him with a stomp of the foot as she stood. “You used me.”

He reached for her. She moved away from his touch. “Get away from me,” she hissed.

“I’d never betray you. I’m trying to catch a drug lord. Try to see this from my side.”

“No! You see this from my side. My married mother became pregnant by her lover, David, and then marries a third man, Ernesto, who I thought was my father all of these years. Did I mention that David and Daddy were best friends? And, what do best friends do? Well, in this case, Daddy laundered money for David for several years, then he ‘supposedly’ set David on the path to death row, and now you suspect Daddy of being the head of the largest drug syndicate in the world. I’m just not having a good week.”