Chapter Eleven
I had gotten my laughter under control and managed to get them all out of my bedroom. All of them save for Quinton that is. Big surprise there.
I knew why he didn’t leave with the others. It was because of that phone call I made for Tyson. The phone call where I actually hadn’t gotten around to telling him why I had called in the first place. Something, judging by his calm demeanor, he still wasn’t aware of. That meant it was still up to me to inform him. I had been eager to take the burden out of Tyson’s hands earlier. I wasn’t feeling so eager to now.
I crossed the floor to the loveseat and parked my butt in the space Addison had vacated. The wicker creaked as I sat down. I wasn’t worried about how sturdy the loveseat was. If it could hold up under Addison’s weight, then it could certainly hold up under mine. He had to have over a hundred pounds on me, probably more. And I wasn’t a teeny tiny girl either. Although, admittedly, I did weigh less than what I had a month ago. Some people ate when they were stressed out. I wasn’t one of them.
I crossed my legs at the knees and patted the cushioned seat beside me with the palm of my hand in an invitation. I didn’t know why, but I felt this would go so much easier if we were sitting down. Like, somehow, he’d be a lot less hostile if he learned the news while sitting down.
Call me crazy, but I thought getting bad news while sitting down was so much better than getting bad news while standing up would be. What if you crumpled under the weight of the news you’d just learned, and your knees gave out from under you? If you were sitting down, then you wouldn’t have to worry about that happening to you.
I eyeballed Quinton as he casually strolled across the bedroom as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked so confident, so self-assured, I didn’t think his knees would buckle under any kind of pressure.
Perhaps, it was really me who I had to worry about. Perhaps, I was worried it would be my knees that buckled after I gave him the news and he lost his mind and his outburst exploded all over the place.
Good thing I was sitting down because this would likely go over badly.
Quinton sat down gracefully on the seat beside me. I had never realized just how gracefully he moved before. He moved lithely, fluidly, like rushing water or a stalking cat. Always a predator, never the prey, was Scary Uncle Quinton. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. I had always payed attention to him while he was standing still, and his mouth was, unfortunately, moving.
Sometimes I hated Quinton when his mouth was moving. Unfortunately, for me, there were other times when I thought I loved him. Only recently, that is. And I still wasn’t comfortable with it.
If you weren’t comfortable with something? I felt it was best to ignore it. So that’s exactly what I did, I put my feelings for Quinton aside and I blatantly ignored them. And I did it with everything I had.
Quinton turned his hips in the seat in my direction. His legs edged closer until his right knee was only mere inches from my crossed ones. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me in an attempt to stare me down.
I wanted to squirm in my seat under that glare he had aimed at me but by some miracle managed not to move an inch. His scrutiny aimed in my direction made me feel a whole lot less braver.
I didn’t like that.
As a result, I took the offensive.
“You hung up on me,” I said in a low, quiet voice.
I winced as soon as the words had left my mouth. That had not been what I wanted to say. I was being a coward and I knew it. This was not who I now wanted to be.
Quinton frowned at me.
“Baby,” he murmured, and his eyes had warmed considerably. He was back to being nice and sweet. Probably only towards me, everyone else would have to fend for themselves. “Ty covered everything with me downstairs. I only hung up on you because you weren’t responding, and I needed to concentrate on driving so I could get here and get to you.”
I frowned.
He already knew? I had stressed so much in the last few hours about him knowing this information and he just goes and tells me that he already knows?
What the?
This bugged me. Tyson hadn’t wanted to tell him about Chucky and the Council freeing him. So much so, he hadn’t tried to fight me for the cell phone I had snatched away from him. In fact, he hadn’t put up much of a fight at all. He’d protested a little, but not much. So why had he just gone and given it up to Quinton as if it were nothing? And why didn’t Quinton seem angrier about it when Tyson had seemed so sure his Uncle would be enraged at the news?
“You seem rather calm about it all,” I noted hesitantly.
“Nah,” he said. “Annabell is a sore subject for us all. She brings out the worst in us, and, honestly, I’m not surprised those two came to blows. Tyson is always looking for a reason to hit Julian and Damien in the face. I wouldn’t say he hates them because we’re a family and we all love each other, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fight amongst ourselves at times. We do, fight that is. But those three…” He paused to shake his head. “Those three have intense history that can only be brought on by the addition of a girl. They tried to add a girl to the mix the first time and it backfired on them because she’d been the wrong girl for us. They lost their cherries, well, all except for Damien, and unfortunately gained a whole lot of hostility towards one another because of it. It’s not what I wanted for my family and, if I could have chosen differently for us, I would have. But I’m not capable of doing so and this is what we are left with. I’m just sorry that you had to be there for their little episode. They won’t do that in front of you again. I promise.”
If I wasn’t so bothered by what he hadn’t said, I would have rolled my eyes at his promise. I didn’t do promises. They were made to be broken and I didn’t want to set myself up for that kind of disappointment.
No, I was bothered because he hadn’t brought Chucky up once. Now, if Tyson had told him about what he’d seen on television, wouldn’t Quinton have brought it up in this conversation? I thought he would and I knew he wasn’t wrong.
Unease was fast growing inside of me. It made sense to me then, that he had absolutely no clue about Chucky or the Council. No freaking clue. He had raced here to get to me so he could make sure I was safe. When he’d gotten here, he’d first had a conversation with Ty. Ty had explained the situation with Julian to his Uncle but had conveniently left out the situation with Chucky and the Elders. I couldn’t really blame him, if our roles had been reversed, I wouldn’t have shared the happy news with Quinton either.
But this left me back where I had started before the violence had broken out.
Once again, it was up to me to deliver the bad news. I had no one but myself to blame since I had been the one to volunteer for the job. Unless I wanted to throw Tyson under the bus then it was up to me.
“Uh, Quinton,” I said in a rush, stumbling over my words. “That’s, uh… Not why I called you on Tyson’s phone. I actually phoned you before Julian showed up and their fight started.”
His eyes sharpened, and they raked over my face. He was no longer at ease, but he still seemed confident. I bet by the end of my little explanation that he would likely lose that unfathomable confidence of his.
Suddenly, I dreaded doing this and wanted to get up out of my seat and run down the stairs so I could find Tyson and force him to do what I no longer wanted to do for him.
But that would make me a coward and I was done with all of that. Or, at least, I wanted to be. Not that it was working out very well for me.
“What are you talking about?” Quinton rumbled in an angry voice.
Oh dear.
This was already going very badly for me.
“Well, you see…” I fidgeted with my hands and clasped them together on top of my knee. “Tyson was watching the television in the living room while Julian finished with my face and he saw something upsetting on there that he thought you should probably know. He didn’t really want to tell you himself, so I volunteered to do the dirty job myself. I was about to tell you what was going on when the fighting started. And, well, now we’re here.”
He bit the corner of his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell if he did it so he wouldn’t laugh or yell at me. I didn’t want him to do either, but if I had to choose, I would pick laughter over yelling any day.
He didn’t speak, just sat there staring at me while he chewed on his lower lip.
“And now we’re here?” he asked.
I nodded, and he sighed.
“And, just exactly where are we?” he asked in an annoyed voice. I couldn’t really blame him for the annoyance. If I were him, I would be annoyed with me as well.
“Well…” my voice trailed off before I said screw it and blurted out the truth. “Tyson saw some of the Council members on the television while he was watching the news. They were walking out of the Police Station and they had Chucky with them. Ty thinks they got him out of jail, but he doesn’t know the how or why of it, obviously. And, well, he wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you this. He thought you would likely freak out about it, and who could blame him. It’s all a little on the crazy side. I mean, why would they do that? What would the Council want with Chucky? That’s just nuts. Chucky doesn’t have any magic that we know of and he doesn’t know anything about us or that we have magic.”
I was hopeful about that last part but not exactly sure of it.
The look on Quinton’s face frightened me. His eyes had gone cold, dark, and there was something animalistic lurking in the depths. It was the predator behind his pretty face. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to look at, and downright scary.
“Say that again,” he whispered in a hoarse, strangled voice.
He’d leaned forward in the seat with his body held completely still. He was like a snake hiding in the tall grass, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
I did not want to be the person who got bitten when he struck.
I shook my head, not wanting to repeat what I already told him.
“Fuck,” he hissed and sprang up to his feet.
I jumped at the sudden movement and pressed my back against the seat, leaning as far away from him as I could get while still staying seated. The rage rolling off of him was almost a physical, touchable thing. I almost wanted to reach out and try to touch it, to see if I could actually feel it. Whether it was hot to the touch or not was something I really wanted to know. But not enough to actually reach out for it, my fingers would probably singe. No thanks, I liked my fingers just as they were.
“God damn it,” Quinton growled under his breath as he prowled towards the door. “They weren’t even supposed to still be here.”
He didn’t shut the door behind him as he stalked out of the room. I heard his cowboy boots on the floor as he stomped down the stairs. I had no idea where he was going but I felt bad for anyone who got in his way.
I let out a sigh of relief and my body immediately relaxed. It was as if some switch had been flipped in my body the moment he walked out the door.
I was glad to have that over with and finally alone in my bedroom. I didn’t even have to ask anyone to leave. They’d gone and done it all on their own. I didn’t feel abandoned in the least. I didn’t even care that he’d left the door open behind him. I had nothing to hide from them and no reason to close the door.
My eyes kept going back to the box on my bed, the one with the unread letters and the pictures of Vivian and Rain.
The word coward flashed in my mind, bright and neon pink in color.
I frowned.
Pink was not the color for me, even in my head. Neither was the word coward.
I got up from the loveseat and moved across the room towards the bed and that half empty box filled with answers to questions I didn’t even know I’d wanted answered. Questions I wouldn’t have had before finding the box in the first place. I would have gone the rest of my life thinking Vivian was my bio mother and I would have never known any better. Was I better off knowing that she wasn’t? I didn’t think so because it didn’t matter. According to the letters, my biological mother was dead, so it wasn’t like I was getting a second chance at having a real mother, a decent one. They were both dead. But I had never had a father before. And, according to those letters, Rain Kimber was my biological father, and he seemed to be very much alive.
I wasn’t really sure how to feel about it.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, beside the box.
I was going to do this. I needed to do this. No more hiding and running away from things that scared me.
I realized that’s what was stopping me from reading the letters. They scared me. I needed to get my feet firmly planted on the ground for once in my life. I was tired of having the rug pulled out from under me. And the contents of those letters had the potential to change everything for me. They’d already changed everything I knew to be true about my life so far. Did I really want it to change even more? No, no I absolutely did not want that. But I also didn’t think I wanted to go the rest of my life without knowing. Eventually, the curiosity would kill me.
I reached in the box and pulled out the first piece of paper my fingers came in contact with.
I unfolded the neatly folded piece of paper and got down to business.
My Dearest Vivian,
This has got to stop, sister of mine. It has gone on for long enough. It’s been five years now that you’ve kept her from me. Five very long years. Enough is enough and I want my daughter back. Five years is a long time, Vivian. Time enough for you to sink your claws into her and brainwash her to your liking. I know this must please you greatly and I applaud your ability to hide her from me for this long. But, I’d like for you to remember something. Not a day goes by where I’m not thinking about my beautiful daughter or my bitch of a sister who stole her away from me. And every day that goes by is another day for me to come up with an appropriate way to punish you for what you’ve done to me and my beloved Ariel.
Remember that, sweet sister. I don’t want you to ever forget about me. And I don’t want you to ever stop looking over your shoulder, searching for me to be one step behind you because one day I’m actually going to be there. And, on that day, your punishment will begin. After, of course, I’ve gotten my Ariel far, far away from the likes of you.
I swallowed thickly as I laid the neatly folded piece of paper in my lap. I was not going to cry. I would not do it. No way, no how.
Rain Kimber, my supposed bio father, had thought me beautiful even though he hadn’t seen me in over five years when he’d written this letter.
Me. Ariel Kimber, abused loner and wannabe brave girl. I had a parent out there who loved me and thought I was beautiful, and he thought that without even knowing what I looked like.
I let that thought wash through me and this time I had to blink to keep the tears at bay.
I didn’t care that Rain seemed like an unstable psycho with anger issues and what sounded like a lust for bloody vengeance. I didn’t care about this at all. He’d called me beautiful and done it in a way where I knew he’d meant every word. Rain Kimber could light fire to half the world and sit back on a lawn chair while drinking a glass of Kool-Aid as he watched it burn and I think I still wouldn’t have a problem with him. I had a feeling that I could burn this man’s house down and he’d still sit there in his lawn chair while sipping his Kool-Aid and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash at me. And he sure as hell wouldn’t hold it against me. He sounded crazy enough to applaud my skills and ask after my technique. Then, when he found out it had all been an unfortunate accident on my part, he’d hug me and laugh it off as a hilarious joke.
Burnt the house down? Whoopsies. We’d laugh it off and then move in with the Alexanders.
I felt like Rain Kimber and Quinton Alexander would meet and either became immediate besties or they would outright despise each other. I felt like they were both crazy enough that they would go the way of option number one. Their obvious affection towards me would likely make it hard for them to despise one another.
What was that absurd saying that I had heard people say before? Hmm… I think it was something along the lines of girls always being attracted to men who reminded them of their fathers. Rain sounded like a very loving crazy man who was all about family, unless you were family and you screwed him over. Quinton was exactly the same way.
Go figure.
I think that saying actually held merit after all. Who knew?
I wanted to know Rain better, and to do that, I needed to read more of his letters.
So that’s exactly what I did.