“Then tell me,” I whisper. Shaking her head, she puts her smoke to her lips and takes a long drag. “Momma, please? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did I have to find out this way?”
Anxiety, panic, despair, they build in her cloudy eyes. She looks frantically from side to side, lifts her drink to her mouth and takes a long sip. No sooner has the glass left her lips than she takes a long inhale of her cigarette and starts shaking.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she states angrily. “No one will ever understand.” Pointing her cigarette at me, she says bitterly, “But understand this, Rochelle. That boy is no good. He will leave you, baby. Just like they all do. Just like Edward left me. Just like your father…”
Her voice trails off. I stand slowly and look down pitifully on her. She’s the picture of what I used to be. Scared. Afraid. Assured that no one gets her. No one understands her.
But I do. She raised me to be just like her. Afraid to live for fear of losing everything.
“I’m old enough to know the truth, Momma,” I demand, determined to not hide in the shadows anymore.
She looks up at me furious. “I always thought you were smart enough to see, Rochelle.” Her statement stings as it works its way around my heart. The hatred I witness ghost across her eyes for me, for her, sinks into my soul. I tremble a little, scared of my own mother and just what she is implying. I want to look away, I want to run, but the look in her eyes is so evil, so threatening, it holds me still. Hostage. Unable to move. Just like I’ve always been.
Until him.
“See what, Momma?” My voice shakes. It comes out as a whisper at first before her heated stare deepens as she continues to glare up at me maliciously. “See what,” I demand.
I won’t back down now. I can’t. I’m not the shy girl I was before. I’m not the girl she raised to never ask any questions, be grateful for what little I had, and never ever ask for anything more.
She rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair. Taking a long sip again from her glass, my heart begins to accept defeat. I wanted answers, but somewhere through all the lies, I at least got her to admit a few tonight.
Victoria is my sister. Edward is my father. And she is not the mother I believed she was.
Turning, I take a few steps towards the door.
“That’s right,” she hisses behind me. “Go back to him. Crawl back to that boy that will only love you until something better comes along. I’m the one that has always been here for you, Rochelle. Not him! He’ll leave. They all do!”
Swinging around, I meet her depraved stare. “There for me? I’ve had to take care of myself my whole life. I grew up with nothing, no one, because of whatever it was you kept running from. I stayed in the shadows, on the sidelines, confident that I didn’t deserve any more out of life because of the fear you put inside me. The fear that one day, I’d lose it all. Just like we did when we fled Georgia. Well not anymore, Momma. Victoria is my sister. Edward is my father. And you, you’re a shell of the woman I thought you were. You’ve only ever held me back. But not anymore. I deserve answers. And if you aren’t going to give them to me, I know someone who will.”
Storming out of the house, she yells after me to stop. But I can’t. I won’t go on living a lie. Not anymore.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Hunter
A loud banging startles me awake and I sit up quickly in bed. Coming home from the hospital earlier, I had laid down for only a moment and guess I fell asleep. The stress of everything must have finally gotten to me.
Now, it all comes rushing back as reality kicks in and the banging gets louder. I’m on my feet in an instant. Rushing out of my room, I cross the apartment in record time. There is only one person I want on the other side of that door, and I don’t want to waste another moment not knowing if it’s her.
Flinging open the door, Rochelle immediately jumps into my arms. Her violent sobs shake her petite frame. I hold on to her tightly. Pulling her inside, I kick the door closed.
“Angel,” I whisper, but she shakes her head no.
Silent, I hold her in my arms and let her break. Knowing whatever just happened between her and her mother is not something she is willing to talk about just yet.
Backing away from me slightly, her hands raise to cup my face. Her eyes glisten with new shed tears.
“Hunter,” she cries. “Make love to me.”
Her lips desperately crash against mine. She pushes me up against a wall and forces her hands low as she rubs my length and begins to work me up to meet her needs. I kiss her back and take all she is giving.
A smarter man would stop this. A smarter man would make her talk first. Try to understand what happened and how I can help her.
But I am not that man as she takes my hand and rubs it against her sweet warm core, now growing wet with desire.
Her hands move to my waist. She unbuttons my jeans and quickly pushes them down my legs. Her kiss breaks from mine, and she lowers herself in front of me and grabs my length in her hands. She looks up through hooded lashes. Tears stain her face as her lips wrap around the tip. Her hot mouth sucks my cock down the back of her throat beautifully. I groan at the sight of her on her knees. Her hand strokes my cock, slowly, timidly, before need takes over and she fists me harsher, faster. Her head bobs up and down. She sucks in her cheeks, pulls back, and rotates her tongue around the curve of my crown. I think I say her name. I think I warn her to stop. To keep going. But I’m not fucking sure as I stare into her eyes and she continues to suck, tease, lick, and work my cock harder, faster. She’s just as desperate to taste my release as I am to give it to her.
Like a fucking queen, she takes me all the way down the back of her throat. Once, twice, three fucking times. Drunk on the sight, I stumble back a step until my back hits the wall. Scooting forward on her knees, she licks up my length before glancing back up in my eyes. She holds my stare as her lips suck the tip slowly back into her mouth, and then she pushes my cock so deep down her throat I feel her gag.
