Key To My Heart (Love Conquers All) (20 page)

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The once hot water coming from the multiple shower heads was now turning tepid. Ava didn’t care. Not when Langston had her against the tiled shower wall, stroking her like nobody’s business.

With his head buried in the nook of her neck, Langston nibbled on her as he whispered,
“
Fille, vous vous sentez tellement bien damn.
Je veux juste rester à jamais en vous”

“Mmmm, English, baby, English,” Ava moaned, turned on and welcoming every stroke as he spoke to her in French. He hadn’t uttered a word in English since he’d coaxed her into the shower.

Langston chuckled as he translated for her. “Girl, you feel so damn good. I just want to stay in you forever.” He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant to be standing under sprays of water, their naked bodies clinging to each other. But after they dropped off Zoe at school and came back to his place, one thing led to another. And before either of them knew it, they were ripping at each other’s clothes.

Wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, Ava pressed her back into the wall before placing her hands on Langston’s rippled, solid chest. A sultry smile dancing across her lips, she reached up and brought Langston’s mouth to hers. He’d been talking trash all morning.
I guess he forgot he’s not the only who can speak in a foreign tongue.
Nibbling on his succulent, full bottom lip, she whispered back in Italian,
“
Allora farlo. Rimani proprioqui amore mio, dentro di me.”

Amore…Love.
Langston at least knew that one word. His strokes became harder and deeper, bringing on fierce convulsions and bringing his body to completion. Ava immediately followed, screaming his name.

Uncurling her legs, Ava stood and laid her head on Langston’s chest. She smiled. His heart was beating just as fast as hers from their lovemaking.

“What was that you said? I could only make out one word,” Langston whispered, his voice still thick with passion.

Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, Ava’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she’d said that to him. She had to go getting all caught up when he started talking dirty in French. His paternal grandmother would probably turn over in her grave if she knew he used her native language for such naughtiness. Burying her face in his chest, she mumbled, “I said, ‘Then do it. Stay right here, my love, inside of me.’”

Just as he was about to lift her chin to kiss her lips, telling her he’d stay wherever she wanted, both he and Ava jumped from the loud banging on the bathroom door. The sensual fog which hung densely in the air immediately dissipated like a puff of smoke.

Taking Ava by the hand, they stepped out of the shower stall. Tossing her a thick, fluffy white towel, Langston snarled, “Here, wrap this around you.” He then wrapped his midsection with a matching towel.

Seething, Langston snatched open the door. He knew of only one person bold enough to come into his bedroom and head straight for the master bath.
Mother.

“What are you doing here?” Langston demanded, glaring at Beatrice.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a firm to run? Or have you forgotten all about your responsibilities while you lie up with your whore playing house?”

Beatrice had stood on the other side of the bathroom door long enough to hear Langston and Ava mating like wild animals, which totally disgusted her. If he hadn’t opened the door, she was a split second away from barging in.

Ava told herself she wasn’t going to say a word. She was going to sit back and let Langston handle this. They were consenting adults, not some teenagers sneaking behind their parents’ backs. If Langston’s mother was ignorant enough to enter her grown son’s home, proceed to his bedroom, and catch him making love, then that was her problem. She should have called before coming over like she was told to do. That was until the mean old bat called her a whore—again.

But when Beatrice called her a whore, Ava’s light complexion turned deep crimson. She was ready to explode as the older woman stared at her like she was the scum of the earth. Beatrice’s face was contorted with so much hatred. In that moment Ava imagined Beatrice giving Zoe the same look. Memories of Zoe telling her how Grandmother had spanked her came rushing back through Ava’s brain. It happened so fast that before she knew it, Ava had lunged at the older woman.

“Ava! Don’t!” Langston barked. Beatrice was laying a trap, and he knew it.

Arms of steel restrained her, lifting her off her feet. Wildly kicking, Ava screamed, “Put me down! Put me down!” This was her chance to confront this witch for all the years she’d hurt her innocent baby. And Langston was doing it again! He was taking up for his evil mother. This was for the birds. Ava was out! Once she left his house, she wasn’t coming back. If she had to get a hotel room on the weekends when she came to Georgetown to see Zoe, then that was what she would do.

Tightening his hold on her, Langston whispered in Ava’s ear, “Shhh, baby, trust me. I’m going to handle this.”

Ava shoved him in the chest when he placed her back on her feet. “You better, before I do.”

A malevolent smirk curled Beatrice’s lips as she watched her idiot son and his whore. She had struck a nerve and got the reaction she wanted. And just like the last time, Langston came to her defense when that ghetto tramp lunged at her. Yes, she still had some measure of control over her son. Tsk, tsk, and she thought she needed Christina to drive a wedge between them. All she had to do was call her a few names to get under her skin, and the little hood rat erupted, acting like an uncivilized heathen.

“Do what, my dear?” Beatrice asked. “The only thing you’re capable of doing is spreading your legs.” Beatrice tilted her head to side. Her lips still held their smirk as she spewed her venom.

Langston looked at his mother incredulously. If she couldn’t respect him as a man, his child, and the woman he loved, then there was no room for her in his life. He loved his mother, he really did. However, she was a cancer that had eaten away at him for too long. He was about to tell Beatrice that until she was ready to act like a mother and a grandmother, he wanted no part of her, but Ava was too fast.

Ava gritted her teeth.
No the hell she didn’t! Oh, full of insults, huh? Let’s see if you like this.
“Did you say that to Lydia when
your
husband was crawling between her legs?” The shocked expression on Beatrice’s face was priceless. Ava put her hand to her mouth and said, “Oops.” Dropping her hand, she rolled her neck. “Too bad Lydia was the one big poppa Warrington
really
wanted to be with. I guess it sucks being sloppy seconds.”

The sharp gasp of air Beatrice sucked in pierced the air. Anger blazed in her eyes as she shot daggers at Ava and then Langston. They knew, but how? And then it came to her…
Charles.

“To hell with you! To hell with the both of you! I never wanted you with your black self anyway!” she screeched at Langston. “The only reason I even birthed you was so I could continue to live like a princess! So your father wouldn’t divorce me!” A wicked cackle bubbled up from Beatrice. “Yes, Langston Warrington III, you were my ticket to living the good life. If I hadn’t had you, your bastard of a father would have surely left me for his yellow whore. You were my insurance policy.”

Ava’s heart twisted in pain as her gaze swept from Beatrice to Langston. He had stumbled backward as if someone had kicked him in the gut. She could not believe a mother who was supposed to love and protect her child could say such cruel things. Ava didn’t bother to wipe the tears that were falling down her cheeks as her heart broke into a million pieces for Langston.

All his life Langston had wondered why his mother hadn’t been affectionate with him. Now he knew.
I never wanted you with your black self…you
were my insurance policy.
The words rang in his ears so loudly it felt as if his eardrums were about to burst. He had been nothing more than a pawn in his mother’s sick game to control his father and get what she wanted—wealth.

Looking at his mother, in that instant she became a complete stranger to him. Even though she had never been the kind of mother he would have liked her to be, he’d believed she had loved him. And in spite of all of Beatrice’s faults, Langston had still loved her. Because of this love, he tried to please her, even bending to her will, believing her long ago when she’d warned her against marrying Ava.

“Son I love you,” she’d gently whispered. “Don’t marry this girl. It will ruin your life. Tell her to put the baby up for adoption so the two of you can have successful lives. Think of what this is going to do to your father’s firm. Warrington and Warrington has had an impeccable reputation since your great grandfather and his brother started the firm. Don’t you be the one to bring shame to your family’s name.”

Langston dragged a large hand down his face. It had all been lies. She didn’t want him, didn’t love him, and could give two flying leaps about Warrington and Warrington. Langston saw it clear as day now. If he had married Ava back then, she would have been a threat to Beatrice, the queen bee. From the inception of Warrington and Warrington back in the late 1800s, the wives had played a crucial role in the family business, whether or not they were an attorney. The elder Warringtons passed down the tradition of the wives having an interest in the company. Langston now realized that Beatrice wasn’t about to share that with Ava or any other woman, for that matter. And the fact that Ava was a dead ringer for his father’s lover was all the more reason to make sure Ava was out of the picture.

Beatrice felt triumphant. She
had
to knock the both of them down a peg or two. She really hadn’t meant to say all those ugly things to her son. She almost felt sorry for him as hurt and agony flashed in his dark eyes…
almost.
And if she didn’t know any better, she would think the little tramp really did love him. Ava had eased closer to Langston, sliding her arm around his waist in a protective, supportive stance.
How sweet,
Beatrice thought sarcastically.

But she wasn’t finished yet. When she was finished, he would think twice again about slacking on his responsibilities in order to lie around screwing all day. His place was at the office working on cases to maintain the multimillion dollar revenue the firm brought in every year. To hell with the other lawyers. Everyone knew Langston was the top moneymaker.

Turning to Ava, Beatrice said, “Why do you think the doctor and nurses wouldn’t let you hold your bastard child?”

Ava’s heart thundered in her chest as she stared into the face of pure evil.

“Because I told them a bitch like you didn’t deserve to.”

Ava’s arm that was holding Langston slid from its position as her knees buckled. Before she could hit the floor Langston grabbed her and held her close to his body. Langston’s eyes were cold and his jaw clenched as he growled, “Leave my home and don’t ever come back. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead to me. I no longer have a mother.”

Slamming shut the bathroom door in Beatrice’s face, Langston held Ava tightly. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” He repeated the litany over and over as he held Ava’s sobbing, trembling body.

Ava clung to Langston. She was sorry too. She wasn’t only sobbing for herself, but for Langston as well. Maybe if she hadn’t pushed Beatrice, taunting her, the older woman wouldn’t have said those ugly things to Langston.

“I’m sorry too, Lang.”

Sitting at a booth in the back of Friday’s on City Line Avenue, three pair of eyes stared at her in stunned disbelief. Shoot, Ava was a part of the sordid mess, and she was still in disbelief of what had gone down.

Once she hit Philly city limits, she pointed her car in the direction of South Philly. Entering her parents’ home, her mother Janet took one look at her and knew something was terribly wrong. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”

Bursting into tears, Ava told her mother everything that occurred during the entire weekend. As her mother held her, consoling her, Ava’s heart broke into a million more pieces for Langston. This was what a mother was supposed to do—love and protect their child—not try to crush their spirit.

At Friday’s after retelling the tale to Summer, Starr, and Karen, Karen slumped back in the booth, pushing her empty plate away. “Oh, Av, that’s awful.”

“It sure is,” Summer said. “I can’t believe anyone could be that evil. To go so far as to tell that idiot doctor and retarded nurses not to let you hold your own baby?”

Each woman in the booth, having given birth herself, could only imagine the magnitude of distress Ava had gone through at being denied the opportunity to hold a baby she’d carried for nine months.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, Ava explained, “The witch and her husband were on the board of directors, and every year for the last thirty years the Warrington family has made a sizable donation.”

“So, yeah, they’d do anything the hateful old biddy told them to keep the money coming,” Starr interjected. Leaning in, Starr whispered as if she was going to tell some big secret. “You know what we should do?”

“No,” the other women whispered in unison as they all leaned in toward Starr.