Chapter 14

Samson

Blair slept beside me, her breaths muted beneath the covers in our bed. The combination of need for each other and the light spritzing of champagne had taken both of us to new heights.

The woman drove me wild.

What got to me was the fact that my boredom, the perpetual need to do something more, better, bigger had all but disintegrated. Blair consumed all those nasty feelings. Shit, that wasn’t the right turn of phrase. She didn’t consume them; she transformed them.

All my energy went into avoiding thoughts of what’d happen after Christmas. How I’d deal with it.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek, then slipped out of bed.

Feelings aside, there was a hole where my stomach should’ve been, and it grumbled loudly. Blair muttered in her sleep. “So good,” she muttered, then rolled over, and snorted.

I wheezed a silent laugh, grabbed my jeans and shirt from the floor, then dressed. I high-tailed it out of the bedroom, and creaked down the stairs. Hopefully, there was some leftover lasagna from dinner.

Regina was crazy as shit but at least she employed good people. The chef had made the best lasagna I’d ever tasted and that said a lot, since most of my business partners, and restaurants, were Italian. Perhaps, I’d snipe the woman for one of my projects.

I traipsed across the living room flooring, past that obscene Christmas tree, and toward the kitchen’s archway. The lights were on inside, and the muffled growl of the generator out in the garage was a constant backdrop of sound.

That and the low hum of conversation.

I halted, brow wrinkling up. I wasn’t the only one who wanted a late-night snack.

“– Blair.”

My ears perked up, and I padded closer to the kitchen but kept out of the slanting panes of light that fell across the parquet flooring.

Shadows moved in the kitchen. A cupboard door slammed.

“I thought we were here to grab a couple strawberries, gorgeous.” Joseph’s buttery voice drifted out of the arch.

“We are but I want a snack, too. Is that so wrong? Why can’t you just listen to what I have to say? Gosh, I need someone to talk to about this.” Regina’s usual simper was entirely missing. Her tone whip-cracked in the quiet. “I don’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff. You know that.”

“Get a shrink,” Joseph said.

Shit, that ought to go down well.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I was joking, darling. It was a joke,” Joseph said. “I just want to fuck. You’re so good in bed, sexy. So good on my dick.”

What a fucking cheeseball. Did the man know nothing? Cardinal rule: never beg a woman for sex. The minute you beg is the minute you lose her. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit.

“Forget the sex. This is a crisis. It’s a crisis. I spent thousands of dollars putting my daughter through school, private school, just so she could get into Harvard, and this is the repayment I get?”

“She’s getting married. You should be happy.”

“I should be whatever the hell I want to be,” she screeched. “Unbelievable. If you’ve got a dick, you’ve got a shitty opinion, that seems to be the general rule in life. Listen to me, Joe, she’s in Harvard studying law. Let that sink in for a minute.”

“Yeah, I know. I went to Brown for –”

“Brown. Who mentioned Brown? I didn’t mention Brown, and I don’t see anyone else around here –” she punctuated the sentence with a thwack of something on the counter, “– who mentioned Brown.”

“Relax, baby. I’m just trying to get on your level.”

“You’ll never be on my level, Joseph. You’re new money.” Regina sighed, a whisper of disappointment. “Listen, I would’ve given my left tit for a chance to study law but I didn’t. I married an asshole who ended up running out on me. And by then, it was too late. I couldn’t go to college because I was too old.”

“Is that a thing?” Joseph asked.

The man gave new meaning to the term ‘dense.’ Clearly, Regina wasn’t in the mood to be questioned.

“They wouldn’t accept me when I applied the second time,” she replied but the lie was thick on her voice. For whatever reason, Regina hadn’t gone back a second time. She’d let go of her dream and, apparently, forced it onto her daughter instead.

“So, what are you going to do? Break them up?”

“You’re missing the point, as usual, Joseph,” she snapped. “Samson Barnes is not the problem. She can marry him if she wants to, and I’ll be happy for her. At least, he’s attractive.”

I didn’t puff up at the praise from the psycho lady. If Blair had said it, perhaps.

“Then what’s the point?”

“That she wants to drop out of Harvard, my Harvard, to pursue some ridiculous career in art. She’ll never make it as an artist.”

“I’ve seen some of her paintings. They’re pretty good.”

My man, Joseph.

The slap of flesh on flesh rang out. “For heaven’s sake, keep it together.”

“Ow, fuck. Was that necessary?”

“You’re not thinking, Joseph! It doesn’t matter how talented she is. She’ll never make it and, frankly, I find it ridiculous that she thinks she can.”

My eavesdropping ears grew hot, and pressure built in my chest. I’d never had a long fuse.

“What, does she think she’s got it all figured out? That she’s going to become some great painter and live off her husband? What happens when he leaves her?”

I stepped into the light, onto the tiles, and stared at Regina, her hair disheveled and her silk-and-fur robe hanging off one shoulder.

“I’m not going to leave her,” I said.

The silence that followed actually stung my eardrums.

“Samson,” Regina said, and she tried for a simper. It didn’t work. I’d heard too much, and she knew it.

“You’re disgusting,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Regina gasped.

“Buddy, I wouldn’t talk to her like that if I were you,” Joseph said, the red handprint on his cheek still painfully obvious.

“You clamp your trap, asshole, before I give you a bruise to match the welt on your cheek,” I said and pointed at him.

Joseph’s eyes widened behind his wire-framed glasses, and he took two steps back.

I turned the finger on Blair’s mother. “And you heard what I said; you’re disgusting.”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through. What I’ve –”

“Blair’s future isn’t about you,” I said. “That’s what you’re missing, probably because you’re a narcissist.”

“I am not a –”

“Blair’s path is her own to choose, and you’re a piece of shit parent for talking about her behind her back and refusing to support her wishes. Just thought you should know that. Trust me, I’ve got lots of experience with piece of shit parents like you.” The rage in my chest had hardened, an obsidian shard that might melt back into lava.

“Blair doesn’t know what she wants,” Regina snapped. “And you don’t know what’s best for her. And how dare you tell me what kind of parent I am? Until you’ve had a child, you can’t judge me. She’s my child, and I’ll make her decisions for her until I see fit to let her make them herself.”

“It’s her choice,” I roared.

Joseph flinched. Regina didn’t move a muscle. She stood her ground. The Scott women had balls, all right, big brass ones, but her cheeks did pale. She wasn’t impervious to intimidation or fear.

Did that mean she had a heart under that ice-cold bitch exterior? Probably not. And if she did, it was made of rock and pumped fucking coal.

“Her choice,” I repeated.

“It’s my choice,” Regina screeched back, her white cheeks flushed red. “I’m the one who brought her into this world. I heaved through labor, and screamed, and bore the pain to give her life. All on my fucking own! My own! Mine! I’m the one who pays her tuition. I’m the one who tells her what to do. You don’t get to tell me what to do. That’s not how this works!”

“You’ve lost your mind. And you’re losing your daughter because of it.” Molten lava all over again. Man, this wouldn’t end well.

“She’ll stay in Harvard. I gave up my dream for her, and now she’s going to damn well live it out. She doesn’t get to have her dream and follow her passion, with a husband, too! It’s not fair.” Regina stomped her foot on the tiles, then grappled with her robe.

And therein lay the crux of it. The anger seeped out of me, right away. She wasn’t worth my time or anger. She was pathetic, desperately jealous of the one family tie she had left. Now, more than ever, she reminded me of my Aunt Celia. The woman had made my life hell simply because she didn’t like that I was better looking than her son, better at sports, and I’d lost two family relationships because of it. My cousin hated me, too.

“You’re going to catch a fast wakeup call before Christmas is over, Mrs. Scott. I hope you realize that soon,” I said, voice dangerously quiet.

Regina huffed and puffed, picked up a glass and cocked her arm as if she’d throw it at me. The look on my face stopped her. She put it down again. “I won’t let her become a fuck up like her father.”

“What?” Blair had never known her father. She’d told me as much. That her mother didn’t even know who he was.

Regina squared her shoulders. “Her father,” she said.

“You know who Blair’s father is.” The woman didn’t have limits. How much had she hidden from her daughter?

“Yes,” Regina hissed. “He was a loser. An artist wannabe, and I won’t let my daughter fall into the same trap.”

Another silence, fuller than the last. Something creaked outside, maybe the wind, and I stepped forward, jabbed my finger in Regina’s direction. “Tell me everything you know. Now.”