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Bad. Bad. And more bad. I swear, when it rains it pours.
“Haven't you taken enough abuse?” I glare at Roscoe like I want to set him ablaze. The hateful words left my lips the second I opened the door to him, but I'm taken aback by the emptiness in his eyes.
Something has changed. I can't quite place it, but he seems different than before.
“I can't keep doing this.” His voice is shaky.
“No, you can't.” I give him a queer look.
“Sheri's pregnant. She never told me.” He places his palm on the side of the house and rests his weight on it. “She says I'm never going to see my daughter.”
My first instinct is to ask if he's sure that it's his, but there's far too much pain on his face. For the first time since Roscoe came to Florida, I can feel my blood-bond with him causing a tug at my heartstrings. I can't even imagine what it's like to be in such an abusive relationship. To have the person you love hold everything above your head, leveraging what they can to bend you to their will until you break. Derrick was bad, but Sheri takes shitty to a whole new level.
“I'm sorry, Roscoe,” I mutter.
His face lights up with hope as he catches the sincerity in my voice. “I need you right now, Raven. Please, put what happened behind us. You're literally all I've got left.”
I think for a moment. There's a tiny shred of me that wants to break down and forgive him. He does need me. That's beyond obvious. But there was a time when I needed him too, and he wasn't there.
“Roscoe.” I shake my head.
“I feel so alone right now.” He hides his face behind his hands and begins to sob. That only makes me feel worse.
Instinctively, and despite myself, I step forward to give him a hug. He rests his head on my shoulder, crying uncontrollably. I rub his back, feeling somewhat numb to the whole situation.
I care, don't I? I wouldn't be offering him comfort if I didn't care. This doesn't mean that I can forgive him, though.
“I don't know what I'm going to do.” He coughs.
I have no advice for him. As soon as he's gotten control of himself, I disengage.
“You've been dealt a tough hand.” But you picked the cards yourself.
“I don't know how much more I can endure.” He gazes off into the distance.
I pull from my vast pool of knowledge on the subject of being alone—of being left with no one to comfort and support me. “You'll endure as much as you have to because you have no other choice.”
“I'm not strong like you. I never have been.”
“Of course, you are.” I offer him a weak smile. “We were cut from the same cloth.”
“Cut from the same cloth, huh?” He lets out a strained laugh.
“Yeah. You'll get through this. No matter how shitty the circumstances, life goes on. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that life goes on.” I nod to myself.
“I feel like my life is over. I've lost everything.” Roscoe wipes his eyes on the back of his sleeve. He's dressed like he's going to work, even though I'm certain he hasn't worked since arriving in Florida. He's always been a sharp dresser, though.
“Even when you think you've lost everything, you haven't. The great thing about hitting rock bottom is that all you can do from there is climb up.”
“That sounds like something dad would say.”
“It does.” A memory of our father sitting in his recliner in front of the television flashes through my mind, and I feel a surge of pain from my loss—a loss we both share.
“I don't know where to go from here.” Roscoe takes a deep breath.
“You'll figure it out.”
“I think I might be able to with you by my side.”
“I'm not going to be by your side,” I tell him, though my tone isn't cruel.
“Of course, you are. You said it yourself. We're cut from the same cloth. We need to stick together.” Desperation returns to his expression.
I wrap my arms around myself protectively. “When our parents died, I was in so much pain. I needed you then more than I ever had. As much as you need me now.
“You didn't need me then because you had Sheri to comfort you. I had no one. I was alone. There were so many times I didn't think I would make it.” Tears border my eyes, and I fight to keep them from spilling over.
“Raven, I'm so sorry. I didn't...I wish I had been better.” He reaches out to grab my arms, but I recoil.
“You weren't there. I had to find my own way.” I clench my eyes shut to press back the pain, and tears sear down my cheeks. “I know that we shouldn't be trading pain for pain. I know that by turning away from you, I'm essentially doing the same thing that you did to me by cutting me out of the inheritance, but I can't right now. I just can't forgive you.”
“I can't do this one my own, Raven,” his voice cracks, and I worry that he's about to fall into another crying fit.
“You can, and you will. Just like I did,” I say before stepping back into the house and closing the door behind me.
***
“Sometimes I wonder what things would be like now if Roscoe hadn't done what he did.” I tap my fingers on the dining room table methodically. All that's going through my mind is the past that didn't happen. My brother and I leaning on each other for support while we weathered the emotional storm of our parents' sudden passing. Going through their things and pouring over our childhood memories. Laughing at the good times and holding each other while we cried over things that were so personal they shot straight through our hearts.
That past never existed. Probably anticipating that he was going to leave me with nearly nothing, Roscoe distanced himself after our parents died. I never saw him unless he was coming over to take care of their personal business. Those times were brief, and he always wore a straight face, never showing one iota of emotion. I should have smelled his betrayal coming from a mile away, but at the time I just figured that was how he dealt with his grief. I was completely blindsided when he told me how he planned to settle the will.
“It seems like he's starting to get through to you.” Cindy glances at me over her shoulder from the kitchen. Tonight's dinner is garlic pesto salmon. It's not one of her creations but something she picked up pre-prepared from the grocery store.
She sets the temperature on the oven before peeling off the plastic wrap over the fish. It came in an oven safe container, so all she has to do is pop it into the oven once it's pre-warmed. A simple meal with little hassle.
“He's not,” I insist, shaking my head. “I just wish things hadn't gone the way they did.”
“You can't change what happened and neither can he. You can only forgive and move on.” Cindy washes her hands at the sink before walking over to sit across from me.
“I know. I'm still not ready to forgive yet, though.” I take a deep breath, propping my elbows up on the table.
“You're really good at holding a grudge.” She smirks.
“I haven't been holding it for very long,” I remind her.
“Still. The guy is obviously in a lot of pain if he keeps coming here.”
“He is, but so was I not very long ago.” I sigh.
“Do you really want to repay cruelty with cruelty? I don't think you're like that.” She bends slightly to catch my attention.
“It's not repaying cruelty with cruelty. It's helping out karma. The sooner that Roscoe realizes I'm not going to be there for him, the sooner he'll pull his head out of his ass and do what he needs to do.”
“Not everyone works the way that you do, Raven.” She looks back to the kitchen as if it will make the salmon cook faster. “I'm thinking of making brussel sprouts for the side dish. It's either that or broccoli. We had broccoli the other night, though.” She screws her face. “What do you think?”
“I don't care.” I wave her question away. “I'm so upset that I'm not even hungry.”
“Well, it looks like his attempts aren't completely in vain. He is starting to get to you.” She grins. “You've never looked so contemplative after he's visited before.”
“He was different this time.” I recall the sheer desperation etched across my brother's features. “Pain was radiating from him the likes of which I've never felt before.”
***
“Are you nervous about tomorrow night?” I ask Croix as I lie in his arms basking in the afterglow of an amazing orgasm. He brought me to climax with his fingers before burying his face between my folds and pulling another orgasm from me. When I went to return the favor, he drew me to him, practically forcing me to rest my head against his chest.
At the time, I assumed it was because he needed a breather. It didn't take long for me to figure out that it was more than that. He's acting strange. That makes sense, though, considering all the pressure he's under. Tomorrow night is the opening of The Billionaires Club. Everything he's been working for finally will come to fruition.
“I'm nervous,” he admits, “but not for the reasons you're probably thinking.”
I pull away from him to look at his face, my stomach twisting with a mix of confusion and dread. “What's that supposed to mean?”
Croix takes my hand in his, locking his gaze with mine. “There's going to be a rather unpleasant guest in attendance tomorrow night.”
More unpleasant than your baby momma, I think, though I dare not say it. As soon as the thought passes, I realize who he's talking about. The twisting in my stomach turns into knots.
“Oh God, no. Don't tell me.” I drop my head onto the pillow next to him face first.
“Yup.” Croix nods with a loud exhale.
I pull myself back up to confirm what I already know. “It's fucking Derrick, isn't it?”
“Yeah.” He cringes as if he expects me to pitch a fit.
I roll onto my back and press my fingers to my temples. “How did this happen? Don't you control the guest list?”
“Bruno controls the guest list. Well, some of it.” He tilts his head to look at me. “He invited Derrick. All of the billionaires in good standing are invited.”
“Just like at the party.” I drop my hands to my sides in understanding, though the frustration doesn't go away.
“Just like at the party.” He stares up at the ceiling.
“How long have you known about this?”
“I've known since the beginning. Derrick didn't confirm his reservation until earlier today, though. To be honest, I didn't think he would come since he's dealing with his own club right now. I didn't want to stress you out about it until I was sure he was going to show up.”
“Fuck my life,” I groan, rolling against Croix's side.
He strokes my hair gently. “You don't have to go to the opening if you don't want to, Raven.”
“I have to go. If I don't, he'll win by thinking he scared me off.”
“That's not true.” Croix shakes his head. “I can just tell him that you quit, and that will be the end of it.”
Again, I get the feeling that he doesn't want me there. Being around Kenzi carries a minor chance of drama. Being around Derrick increases that. I'm sure that my presence will only stress Croix out, because he'll feel like he needs to babysit me to keep the peace. Doing that while mingling will be a challenge for him. I don't want him to feel obligated to stay by my side.
“I want to be there to support you,” I say weakly.
“I know I have your support.” He wraps his arm around me.
“Would it be better for you if I didn't go?”
He brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes grazing over my face. “Of course, it wouldn't be better for me. I want the woman I love by my side always.”
His words touch a soft place in my heart, and I swoon. He sounds so sincere that I can't help but believe him.
“Alright then.” I smile softly. “I'll be there.”
