Tainted Black, стр. 56

He continued, leaving me no window of time to butt in. “I was busy, so busy and moving forward with my life so much that I didn’t even realize The Union had been watching my every move. They… envied me. They didn’t believe in love. They didn’t condone it. They saw I was falling hard for her, and they—they did something about it.” His voice cracked in the middle of the last sentence. “I was supposed to be vice president of the gang, step up to the plate and soon take over, but I gave the position away. I think doing that made them suspicious.”

His body shook with silent, painful laughter. “I don’t like to think of her death as what separated us. There were many things that separated us—many things that stood in the way. Honestly, I don’t think we ever would have been together, no matter how hard we loved one another or how much we wanted to be. The first thing that stood in the way was our age difference. She happened to be ten years older than me. The second thing, she had a child. A daughter. And the third and biggest thing, she didn’t want to leave her husband, mainly because he had never wronged her… and because she still loved him.”

Daughter?

HUSBAND?!

Oh my God.

My palms went clammy and cold, my mouth dry like it’d been stuffed with cotton balls. Sterling was… Holy shit… He was…

Sterling blew a puff of air that caught my attention again, and luckily for him, his tears didn’t fall. It’d obviously become easier for him to talk about his loss, but his loss was what made me wonder.

It could have been a coincidence; him being in the same gang that Theo was in. Residing in L.A. where the murder happened and where they used to live. After all, Theo got to love, and from my understanding, he wasn’t as invested in the gang as Sterling was. Maybe they just didn’t care for Theo and saw he could protect himself without them. I couldn’t help but think there were way too many coincidences, all of which petrified me.

Sterling looked at my pale face, expecting questions, some kind of reaction, but I couldn’t react. I couldn’t do much but stare at him, speechless.

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I know what you’re going through. Not being able to be with a person that is a generation or two ahead of you. Is he married? The girl with the pink rims? What is she to him? Kids?”

I nodded at the last question, but it was all I could do. Speaking was unlikely to happen. He took my speechlessness as something else—probably a disinterest in his past and his love life—so he slid out of his chair, placing it back in front of my computer.

“Shit. I apologize if my story disturbed you. I’ll leave you alone now.”

He went for the door and told me to have a good night, but before he could shut it, it finally occurred to me that there was one question I needed an answer to in order to know if my coincidences were just that—coincidences—or if they were hard, cold truths.

“The woman you loved, the woman that died,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “What—what was her name?”

A faint smile touched his lips, as if he would remember her name for the rest of his life. It was as if the thought of her name alone was enough to bring back the wonderful, temporary forevers he clung to. “It was Janet,” he said. “Janet Black.”

TWENTY-TWO

Fourth of July weekend.

I used to love it years ago. I’d light the grill, ready to inhale the scent of sizzling meat while Janet whipped up some goodies for us to indulge in later. Now, my daughter was away, and well, Janet was gone.

This Fourth of July I was going to be spending alone in my condo. Chloe hadn’t text me back since the previous night. Her reason could have been that she was working on keeping her distance. That’s what was supposed to be happening anyway.

So much shit was going on. I wasn’t happy about any of it. I stressed like a motherfucker, trying to keep Trixie on some level of contentment while also maintaining Chloe’s happiness. I wouldn’t kiss Trixie, I wouldn’t hug her back, and I damn sure wouldn’t fuck her. Someone else’s name was written on my cock with permanent ink, and her name was Chloe Knight.

Trixie whined about every fucking thing. She threatened me repeatedly, leaving me no choice but to do something to make it up to her. I’d take her to Dane’s where she could dance with her half-naked friends and I could drink until my rage wasn’t fully consuming me.

Then, she’d leave with them but swore she’d return. And on the nights when she’d leave to go party, I’d call Chloe first thing. I hated the position I put her in. I never wanted her to think she came second. I loved that girl with my whole heart. She didn’t deserve this, but I just wasn’t ready to let go.

Perhaps she was ready now. She wasn’t answering my calls or responding to my text messages. It’d been hours, and I needed my fix. I’d contemplated going to see her way too many times, finally giving into the temptation. I drove to Primrose, in hopes that she’d be somewhere visible where I could catch her attention.

Worry seized me, and when I entered the neighborhood and saw her car in the driveway, my heart fucking swelled. I drove closer with a faint smile on my lips, but when I caught sight of a familiar black car parked in the driveway, my exhilaration flew with the wind.

Oh. Shit. It wasn’t just any black car.

It was a black Charger.

My fucking Charger.

I stopped in the middle of the road, bike grumbling louder than I ever thought possible. Or maybe it only sounded louder because I wasn’t supposed to be there, and neither was Izzy.

I turned quickly and sped out of Primrose, heart racing as I rode home. I parked my bike just as my phone buzzed in my back pocket. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Izzy, whom I expected to call and shout at me for selling the house. It was Chloe.

I answered. “Chloe?”

“Hey, Theo, um… Okay, so maybe the world and all its forces are just totally against us right now, but why in the hell is Izzy in town? Did she tell you she would be coming?”

“Hell no.” I kicked the stand of my bike and hopped off. “Shit.”

“She’s going to her car right now to get her phone. I’m sure she’s about to call you.” Chloe breathed hard. “Damn it,” she groaned. “I wasn’t prepared for this at all.”

“Me neither, babe. But listen, when she calls me, I’ll tell her to come over. Just stay calm, alright?”

She sighed. “Okay. Okay,” she said twice, but I heard the anxiety in her voice.

“Love you, Chloe. Call you when everything is situated.”

She didn’t tell me she loved me back. Instead, she said okay and then hung up. I dropped the phone, throat working hard to swallow. Moments later, as I stepped into my condo, I got the expected call from my daughter.

And I answered, telling her my new address after receiving some harsh, annoyed remarks about selling the house she practically grew up in. She told me she’d be on the way in twenty minutes and then she hung up.

Slouching on the sofa, I picked up my cellphone and shot Chloe a text.

Me: I’m so fucking sorry, Chloe. I don’t want you to go through this.

She replied:

Chloe: It’s fine. I have something really important to tell you. We need to find a place to meet so we can talk.

Me: I’ll send you a time to meet me at the boat when Izzy is settled in.

Chloe: Okay. And I love you too, Theo.

Delight tickled the corners of my mouth, but the message about her needing to tell me something really important made me go back and wonder exactly what was so important she couldn’t say it through text.