Crimson Footprints lll: The Finale (16 page)

Deena cursed and shook until she curled against him, a hot, pulsing sheath.

He couldn’t explain the sound he made.

This woman, he thought. Forever.

She held on to him, damp with both their sweat, body trembling. Tak’s forehead pressed hers and he tunneled deep, driving against her earthquake, stoking it more, until he exploded in a place he knew well.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Exactly yes.”

They lay there, crammed into the closet, hearts slowing, breathing labored. Tak shifted, only to have her touch his shoulder.

“Not yet,” she said and drew him into her embrace, eyes closed.

They had so much they needed to say, so much they needed to talk about. But not then. He could drift away, he realized. There in her arms, as content on a closet floor as he was in grandeur. So long as she lay next to him.

He’d needed this. This—her—in that way. In that gasping, drowning, never able to recover kind of way. It made the worst seem surmountable. It made the world conquerable.

“Dee—” he said, then stopped. As he had no idea what should come next.

So, he kissed her forehead, then her lips, because it was impossible to see them and not want to. But his mouth continued on a plan all its own, tracing a path to the pulse of her neck. A sharp rap at the door stopped him.

Deena clamped a hand on her mouth, eyes wide and alight with laughter.

Tak cleared his throat and did his best not to look at her.

“Er, yes?” he said in his most formal of voices.

She giggled, leaning on him. He tried to shove himself free, only to give up when her laughter claimed him, too.

“Would you stop?” Tak managed, and sat up straighter, as if it might help him keep the straight edge in his voice.

“May I help you?” he said too loud and heard the absurdity of it all.

Her laughter was unbidden this time.

“There’s a girl here,” John said through the door. “That needs to talk to you about Tony.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tony stared at Lila, unable to believe that she had the audacity to come in the house after what she’d just told him. After what she’d just tried. Yet, there she was, head high, eyes bold.

“Who is this, Anthony?” his mother said, looking from him to her.

‘Anthony.’ Great.

Tony cleared his throat and studied the tiles.

“Her name’s Lila.”

“Look at your mother,” Tak said. “And try again.”

Tony took an exaggerated breath before meeting her hard gaze.

“Lila,” he said.

“And Lila is…?” Deena said.

“His girlfriend,” Lila supplied.

Tony shot her a look of venom. Oh, he’d be her everything now. Now that she was in a bad way.

“Your girlfriend says she’s pregnant,” Tak said. “Did you know that?”

His voice stayed even, gauging, studying.

“Baby’s not mine,” Tony mumbled and felt flames lick his cheeks.

“What?” Deena said.

He looked up.

“I said ‘it’s not mine.’ I don’t know whose baby she’s carrying. But it isn’t mine.”

Tony glared at Lila until she dropped her gaze.

Deena swallowed and folded her arms.

“You had sex with her,” she said. Not a question. An accusation.

Tony nodded.

“Then you’ll take responsibility,” she said.

“I’m not taking care of some other dude’s kid!”

“Anthony.” His mother took a step toward him, face pinched as if dealing with some hidden ache. “How can you, of all people, say that?”

“Deena—” Tak said.

She shook her head and tried again.

“Anthony, really. You should be ashamed. Your own father treated you no better.”

Shame. Furious shame. Shameless fury. It slithered on heavy as a coat, snug as his skin. Tony stared at his mother as if just seeing her, really seeing her, before the smallest of doors shut between them.

“Tony,” Tak said, and his name was a whisper, a regret, a want.

He shook it off and tore upstairs to his room.

Gone.

Gone from that.

Gone from her.

*****

Tak stormed for the front door.

“We’ll be in touch,” he said and yanked it open for Lila.

The girl rose and treated Tak, then Deena, to a thin-lipped smile.

“I should tell you that I need—”

“And I should tell you that I’ve already said, ‘we’ll be in touch.’”

The girl flounced out on a sniff of exasperation, hair bouncing, hips twisting too much.

The door slammed behind her. It opened just as abruptly as Lizzie went out.

“What the hell was that about?” Tak said to his wife.

“You’re mad at me? When our son is out there being reckless?”

“Oh, come on. Why don’t you bother to get the facts before you open your mouth sometimes?”

“Oh, I’ve got the facts. Or did you miss the one about the girl carrying our grandchild?”

Tak grunted.

“Some strange girl comes in here talking crazy about our son and I’m supposed to believe it?”

“Who’d lie about that?”

Tak stared at her. Really stared. Once, he’d found her naïveté to be the sweetest part of her, given the reality of where she’d grown up. Now, it just seemed absurd.

“Open your eyes,” he said. “Look around you and see for yourself why she’d lie.”

His wife’s mouth fell open.

“So, what? She’s poor and automatically out for his money? Is that how it works? You must have thought the world of me!”

Tak’s hands clenched into a fist and then opened, over and again, as he groped for calm.

“Don’t do that. Don’t even try it, Deena. You and I both know there are all kinds of people are out there. Let’s wait to see what sort she is before we turn on our own son.”

“Yeah. Meanwhile, Tony’s child goes without prenatal care and Lord knows what else. Another Hammond without the start in life he needs.”

“It’s not even his!” Tak yelled.

“You don’t know that! You don’t know anything about this!”

Tak walked off, turned around and came right back.

“I know I’ve had a dozen conversations with him about sex and protection and responsibility. How about you? Ever do any better than shouting?”

Deena stopped.

“This is your fault. You should be discouraging him from having sex.”

“He’s eighteen!” Tak thundered. He threw up his arms in disgust. “Just because you were frigid—”

Shit. Did he really just say that?

The look on her face said he did.

“Deena—”

He reached for her. She took a step back.

“Deena, I didn’t—”

“Just because you carried on like a—like a whore—”

Tony stormed by, buffeted by a whirlwind of ferocity, swinging limbs on a straight shot, barreling for the door.

Tak snatched him by the arm.

“Don’t go out like this,” he said. “Go back upstairs and cool off.”

Tony’s teeth clenched. “I need air.”

“There’s air upstairs on the terrace.”

Tony snatched free and strode for the door.

Lizzie saw the girl when she’d sauntered up the driveway, windswept hair, long legs, determination. She’d listened to her as she explained herself, first to John, then to Deena and Tak. Now that she strode back out on foot—Lizzie rushed out to catch her.

Lila whirled the second she heard her.

“What do you want?”

All pretenses of the doting, scared girlfriend were gone. Here was the real woman, all cold, all steel. This was what Lizzie had expected.

Lizzie grabbed her by the arm and resumed the walk. Belly jutting before her, they took a pace twice as fast as before.

“I want to know how much,” she said. “How much you’d planned to clear.”

The shift in her was subtle, uncertainty quickly blanketed by impatience.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lizzie stopped. Rummaged in her purse until she found her checkbook.

“I’m talking about you spotting a mark and cozying up. I’m talking about you expecting a payday. You’re not pregnant. So, I’ll give you two choices. Name your number and stay the hell away from my nephew or we march inside and you do a pregnancy test. I’ll sit with you until a maid comes back with one.”

A blush crept into the girl’s face.

“It wasn’t my idea,” she gushed. “My parents kicked me out, and Tito, my boyfriend took me in. Sometimes he has me do things for cash…but I do like Tony. It’s nothing personal. I figured he’d just give me money here and there, no harm done.”

Lizzie waited, pen poised. “How much?”

“A grand?” she said uncertainly.

Lizzie scratched out the check and handed it over.

“Can I get two grand?” Lila tried.

Lizzie looked her over. “Take it,” she said. “Before I tear it up and tell my sister what you just told me.”

Lila snatched the check and started off, on foot, toward the boulevard. Lizzie sent the driver after her with the assumption that the girl hadn’t enough for the return cab fare.

****
*

Tak cursed and took off after Tony, bumping into Lizzie on her return. Father and son spilled out into the driveway before Tony whirled on him.

“I’ve never even met him, you know.”

“Tony—” Tak took a deep breath. “Listen. We’ve talked about this. I know how you feel. But now isn’t the time to—”

“I’ve never met my dad,” Tony said. “And I never want to. He was nothing. A bum and a thug.”

“Tony, don’t talk about this when you’re already angry.”

“I hate him,” Tony went on. “And I’m glad he’s dead. Did you know that? I’m glad he’s dead.”

Tony froze, froze as he stared at point just past Tak’s shoulder, at a place he really didn’t want to look.

Deena.

The world had officially collapsed.

Tak’s hands found his hair and he willed himself not to yank by the very roots. He took a deep breath, then another, and wondered if he should take a third.

“Dee, go back in the house. Let me handle this. For once.”

“I don’t care if she heard me,” Tony said. “And Dad, you know it’s true. How long should we pretend my biological father’s so stand-up, that he’s some guy we’re all supposed to mourn? He sold drugs and he hurt people. He tried to hurt you, Dad.”

“No, Tony,” Deena said in a voice Tak didn’t know, so strained and anguished was it. “You didn’t know him. You never knew him. If you did—”

“Then I’d be dead or in prison or something. Certainly not Ivy League-bound.”

Tak knew that he needed to say something. What that something was, he couldn’t say. People were drowning, he thought, and here he was forgetting how to swim.

“Tony,” Deena said. “I don’t understand. You’re so angry and I—”

“I’m tired, Mom! Tired of you not facing facts. Tired of you seeing what you want.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do! You’ve got your mind made up about every Hammond and every Tanaka, and what you come up with has nothing to do with what’s actually happening.”

He took a step closer.

“When Lauren needed money for school, you practically shoved it down her throat. Tuition, room, board, book money—the whole thing in one check. Then Uncle Yoshi made that bad investment, and you, you had plenty for him, too.”

Tak shot Deena a quizzical look.

“You’ve got all the money in the world for a Tanaka. But your own blood—”

“Don’t. You don’t know—”

“I know plenty! I know Remy and Damien have had to beg and borrow their way through college. I know Lloyd’s gonna have to drop out.”

“No one told me—”

“That they were in school? No surprise. It’s not like you’re the easiest person in the world to approach. You’ve got all these ghosts and demons in your head. All these dead people. We’re all just our parents to you, anyway. We’re all their mistakes.”

“Tony—” Tak said. “That’s enough.”

“You think I’m stupid,” Tony said, taking a step closer. “Stupid as my dad. So, you hover over me, so sure I’ll do what he did. And when this girl shows up, you’re oh-so-ready to believe it. Why? Because I look like him. I thank God I don’t look like your mother. You would’ve murdered me on the doorstep.”

A sob cracked the air. His mother didn’t bother to hide it.

“You wanna know why I’m closer to him?” Tony said.

“That’s enough.” Tak said. “You’ve made your point. Can’t you see that she’s crying?”

He reached for his son and Tony snatched away.

“I’m closer to him,” Tony said. “Because he doesn’t look at me like I’m some ghost or a second chance. I’m me, not your trash little brother.”

She slapped him; a ringing, slam of a slap that swiveled his head like an exorcism.

Then she ran indoors.