Say You Love Me Page 19

  A middle-aged white dude in a black jeep pulled up next to Ariana’s empty spot. I recognized him from the gym. He was one of those jerks who liked to watch himself flex in front of the mirror. He wasn’t as fit as Cesar, but the guy walked around the weight area as if he was Adonis, looking down his nose at everyone. He had to be pushing forty, but he dressed like he was twenty, wearing his gym shorts too low and playing his hip-hop music a few decibels too high. I wondered what Ariana saw in a guy like him. Then again, I was starting to realize I hardly knew what Ariana was thinking anymore.

  I warily eyed Mr. Jerkface before dialing Cesar. I’d been reluctant to bother him at work, but this was part of being in a relationship, right? Telling each other our problems.

  “Hey, bella.”

  “Hey. CPS took Jake.” I was surprisingly calm, considering my universe had just been sucked into a black hole.

  “What do you mean, ‘they took him?’”

  I rubbed my throbbing temple, forcing the words out as if they’d been rehearsed. “Irma told them we were having wild drunken orgies at our house.”

  “And those dumbasses fucking believed her?” His anger punctured the air, filling my brain with static.

  I tried my hardest to remain disconnected from reality, the only way I could get through this nightmare. “They spoke to Jake. He saw your brother chained to the bed, remember?” I narrowed my eyes at the red BMW that pulled into Ariana’s parking space.

  “Bella, I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” Again, my words came out devoid of emotion, surprising even myself. How was I able to stay so calm?

  “What can I do?”

  My jaw practically hit my lap as Ariana dragged her gym jerk to her apartment by his collar. I had no idea why I was surprised. Nothing she did should have surprised me anymore.

  “Nothing. I have a plan. I’m going to the ranch. I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t wait up for me.” I hung up before he could respond, then pocketed my phone. Ariana and the gym jerk had already gone inside, and I didn’t give a damn if I interrupted their swing session.

  * * *

  “Ariana, open up!” I banged on the door for at least the tenth time. I’d been standing outside her apartment for several minutes, and I was tempted to grab a crowbar out of my trunk and bust the door down. “I know you’re in there.”

  Finally she cracked open the door, eyeing me through the slit. “Savannah, now isn’t a good time.”

  I wedged myself inside, pushing the door wide open. “I don’t give a shit.” I should have been shocked by Ariana’s black leather bustier, matching thong, fishnet stockings, and mile-high stilettos or the flogger in her hand, but I wasn’t.

  “Ariana, what’s going on?” Gym Jerk called from her bedroom.

  My head snapped up at the distinct sound of rattling chains. Through her open bedroom door, I saw a nude man hanging from a set of leather straps.

  Holy heck! Ariana wasted no time getting her men to assume the position.

  “Get him out of here,” I growled, in no mood to deal with that guy’s bullshit.

  She threw up her hands, pouting. “But we were—”

  “Now, Ariana!” I screamed, losing all sense of self-control.

  She spun on her heel and marched to her bedroom. Her muffled voice carried into the living room. “I’m sorry, you have to go.”

  More chains rattled, followed by a distinct thud. I knew it was wrong, but I secretly hoped she dropped him on his ass.

  “But we were just getting started.” He sounded less like a gym jerk and more like a whiny toddler.

  “Look, my friend needs me.” She spoke in the soothing tone she’d used when trying to get her high school drama class to behave.

  “This is bullshit!”

  I didn’t even flinch. This guy’s mantrum was the least of my problems.

  He followed up with more swearing and stomping. “I just took my prescription. This thing won’t go down for another two hours!”

  Oh, dear Lord!

  “If you play nice,” she cooed, “tomorrow we can pick up where we left off. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Now get dressed.”

  The guy stormed out of her bedroom with a raging hard-on, giving me a cold look before slamming the front door behind him. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Ariana plopped down on the sofa, crossing her arms. “Okay, what’s so important?”

  I glared down at her, imagining bullets shooting out of my eyes, shooting holes through the propeller tassels on her tits. “CPS took Jake from me.”

  She straightened. “What? Why?”

  “Because of your orgy.”

  She averted her gaze, playing with the leather laces on her flogger. “It was a threesome, not an orgy.”

  “It doesn’t fucking matter, Ariana. He’s gone!” My rage exploded like a steaming kettle. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”

  “Okay, okay.” She slowly stood, pacing the floor and slapping her open palm with the instrument of torture. “Calm down. I will fix it.”

  “Damn right you will.” I pointed at the bedroom, where the stagnant swing hung from the ceiling, a grim reminder of the trouble she’d brought on my family. “Get dressed.”

  “Where are we going?”

  I crossed my arms, impatiently tapping my foot. “To the ranch.” Time to put the next stage of my plan in motion. “You are going to tell your parents the truth about Cesar’s brothers.

  She dropped the flogger at her feet. “Fuck me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ariana decided I was too upset to drive, so we set out in her red BMW. We’d made it halfway to the ranch, and had just gotten back in the car after a quick stop at a gas station, when my phone buzzed. The preacher’s name lit up the phone.

  “Record this,” I said to Ariana, heart pounding in trepidation.

  She nodded and tapped her phone, then leaned into me, holding her phone close to my speaker.

  “What do you want?” I answered with a growl.

  “Miss Boudreau, I just wanted to express my apologies for what happened today. I had no idea they were going to take Jake from you.”

  Was this asshole for real? “Bullshit,” I snapped.

  “Honestly, but Irma had a legitimate concern, and I couldn’t let it go unreported.”

  “Uhhuh,” I drawled, not buying his crap for a moment.

  “I know how much you love Jake,” he continued, his voice dripping with false sugary sweetness thicker than molasses. “The last thing I want to do is see you two separated. Perhaps we could convince the authorities you’ve turned a new leaf.”

  “A new leaf?” I asked, feigning stupidity. I knew exactly where this conversation was going.

  “If you can show me you’ve given your heart to Christ, I will give testimony that you’ve repented.”

  “And how much will that cost?” I wished so badly I could reach through the phone and slap him, but I knew karma would be smacking him upside the head soon enough.

  “Miss Boudreau.” He gasped, pretending to sound affronted. “This isn’t about the money. This is about Jake.”

  “How much?” I demanded.

  “I’m not asking for money, Miss Boudreau, but if you want to give a donation to the church, I won’t turn away your generosity.”

  His slimy sales pitch made me feel dirty, like he was spewing sewage through the phone.

  “How much?” I asked again, my patience wearing thin.

  “Twenty-five thousand to start, just for a few minor improvements around the church. Fifty thousand would really help the parish, maybe buy supplies for the underprivileged children.”

  Yeah, right. As if he cared about anyone but himself. He was getting desperate. Guess with a looming eviction, he was running out of options.

  “How about this, Reverend?” I hissed. “How about I give you a donation of my foot up your ass?”

  “Miss Boudreau, what would the courts think if they knew you used t
hat kind of lan—”

  I hung up, then promptly blocked his number.

  I turned to Ariana, and even though not much shocked her, she looked at me with a slackened jaw.

  “Did you get all that?” I asked.

  She stared down at her phone, then back up at me. “Yep. Fuckstick.”

  “Send it to me, please.”

  She nodded.

  I smiled when my phone dinged. Then I powered down in case he called me from another number. I didn’t feel like dealing with him tonight. “There’s a special place in hell for phonies like him.”

  “Amen.” She laughed, backing out of the parking spot.

  Too bad Ariana wouldn’t be laughing much longer. No more would she be able to blame her poor decisions on others. My nephew was in CPS custody, thanks to her reckless behavior, and it was time she was accountable for her actions.

  * * *

  My limbs iced over the moment we turned down the old county road leading to my childhood home. Angus had said Sara had completely renovated the place. I sure hoped so. It was hard enough setting foot on my abusive father’s property, but to walk into the same house where I’d been physically and mentally abused could very well shatter the rest of my broken heart.

  Gravel crunched under Ariana’s tires as she drove beneath the same Double B sign that had been hanging above the front gate since I could remember. She parked in front of the house, which was lit in hues of orange and gold painted by the setting sun. I reluctantly got out of the car, inhaling the familiar scents of the ranch, the smells of fresh hay and the pungent odors of livestock.

  A few cattle dogs I didn’t recognize rushed over, their tails in full motion as they licked Ariana’s palms. They sniffed me a few times, decided I wasn’t a threat, and ran back to the porch, barking at the door. I looked up at the long, heavy branch of the live oak tree stretching toward the front porch as if it was trying to grasp the eaves. I remembered with fondness how Ariana and I used to climb that particular branch. A few times I’d even used that tree to avoid my dad’s wrath. It was perfectly positioned beneath my bedroom window, providing me an escape route when needed.

  I settled my palm on its rough bark. “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “Are we going to get this over with or what?” Ariana impatiently leaned against her car, tapping her foot.

  I exhaled a shaky breath, then followed her up the porch steps, noticing the fresh coat of white paint and the numerous flower planters hanging from the beams. Nice. In my late teen years, the grand old Victorian house, which my grandfather had built, had started to lose its shine.

  The front door swung open before we could knock. Angus stood in the doorway, dressed in a heavy robe and pajamas. “Girls, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Ariana kissed him on the cheek. “We just came for a visit.”

  Ha ha. Nice choice of words, Ariana.

  I was awestruck by the renovations inside. The dark, heavy gloom that had once permeated the house was gone. The flooring had been changed to a light birch, and the ugly, dark wallpaper had been replaced with an elegant pattern of delicate silver flowers, keeping with the Victorian style but brightening up the entire grand entrance.

  Sara came down the spiral staircase, cinching a floor-length satin robe. Her long dark hair was slightly messed, which was unusual. Sara was always the image of polished perfection. A funny feeling came over me when she shot Angus a look. His greying hair was ruffled, too, and he had a lipstick smudge across his cheek.

  Sara had said they were waiting until they were married to sleep together.

  “Is everything okay, niñas?” Sara asked. That’s when I noticed her lipstick was smeared in a line down her chin.

  Their appearance didn’t get past Ariana either. “What’s going on, you two?”

  Sara brushed a piece of tangled hair behind her ear. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean.” Ariana pointed an accusatory finger to the hall behind the staircase. “Your bedroom is downstairs, mamá.”

  “I know.” She averted her eyes. “I-I was just cleaning up.”

  Ariana arched a brow. “In a satin nightgown?”

  When both Sara and Angus had that deer-in-the-headlights expression, Ariana rushed past her mom up the stairs.

  Sara followed. “Ariana, wait!”

  Angus and I ran after them.

  I came to a screeching halt, Angus smashing into my backside, when I realized Ariana had run into my father’s room.

  “I knew it!” Ariana screamed.

  Angus grabbed my elbows and nudged me aside, following Sara.

  I peeked inside, relieved to see it looked nothing like my dad’s old bedroom. Everything was bright and airy. Even the dark furnishings were gone. A pale birch canopy bed backed against the side wall next to a set of white French doors. I couldn’t help but notice the blankets had been pushed to the floor and a thick wedge pillow was in the center of the bed.

  Holy-freaking-moly!

  Oops. Looks like Ariana and I had interrupted their fun. Angus stood beside the bathroom door, hands stuffed in his pockets, his face and ears turning an alarming shade of red. Through the bathroom’s open double doors, I saw Ariana banging around a bunch of cabinets.

  Sara yelled at her. “Ariana, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “His and her toothbrushes!” Ariana slammed a cup of toothbrushes on the counter. She picked a box out of the wastebasket. “Mamá, what the hell is this?”

  Sara backed up, splaying a hand across her chest. “I-it’s—”

  “Give me that,” Angus grumbled, snatching the box from Ariana. He crumpled the box before tossing it on the floor, then stormed out of the room.

  I bent and picked it up. A pregnancy test kit?

  “You pretend to be the perfect prude, but you and Angus are having premarital sex.” Ariana jutted her hands on her hips, glaring at her mom’s midsection. “Are you pregnant?”

  Sara frowned. “Not yet.”

  “But you’ve been trying?” Ariana’s question was more of an accusation.

  Sara turned up her nose and casually pulled a sheet over the wedge pillow. “We are two consenting adults, and we’re not getting any younger.”

  Ariana crossed to me and nodded at the big lump beneath the sheet while making a gagging noise. “We’re adults, too, mamá.”

  “Not to me.” Sara squeezed our cheeks, making us pucker like fish. “You’ll always be my babies.”

  Any other time, and Sara’s admission would have warmed my heart, but I couldn’t help but wonder where her hands had been. And then I thought about that wedge pillow and realized Ariana was right to be angry. Sara and Angus were hypocrites. They’d judged me because Cesar lived with me. Then they’d forced me to hire their friend, and I’d been too worried about their opinions to stand up for myself. What good were their opinions when they didn’t follow their own advice?

  I pushed Sara’s hand away. “Why did you do this?”

  “I’ve already explained. We’re not getting any younger, and we want a baby, niña.” She clasped her hands together, a plea in her voice. Was she expecting sympathy from me after Cesar and I had gotten none from them?

  I crossed my arms as the memory of their judgmental scowls numbed my insides. “You judged Cesar and me for living together when you two are doing the same thing.” I fought back tears, wishing so badly I could erect a wall around my heart and protect myself from the pain of realizing I’d been betrayed and used. “I love you like my own parents, and this is how you treat me?”

  “And we love you. I never meant to hurt you.” Sara’s voice broke and her eyes glossed over as she reached for me.

  How was I supposed to know if those were real tears? I felt like I hardly knew anyone anymore.

  I took another step back. “Then why? Why are Cesar and I expected to live by standards you don’t set for yourselves?”

  Sara sat on the edge of the bed. “I can see how you think we were being unfair, bu
t we were only looking out for you. A wealthy young woman can be easily taken advantage of by the wrong man.”

  This was so frustrating. They were determined to mistrust him, and they didn’t even know him. “Cesar is not the wrong man. He was my boyfriend before he knew about my inheritance.”

  Angus returned to the bedroom, his expression grim. “Those brothers were raised with the same values.” Apparently he’d been listening in the hallway. “We saw what his brothers did to Ariana. How can we expect Cesar to be different?”

  Un-freaking-believable!

  “Ariana and I were raised with the same values.” I threw up my hands, scowling at Angus, then at Ariana. “What about what she did to them?”

  Ariana had enough decency to flush pink.

  I nudged her in the ribs. “Ariana has something to tell both of you.”

  Now seemed like the perfect time to air Ariana’s laundry, since her mom’s tousled laundry and wedge pillow were on shameless display.

  Angus and Sara sat on the bed together, clasping hands and sharing secretive looks.

  Sara batted her lashes like an innocent school girl, still blissfully unaware her lipstick was smeared. “What is it, child?”

  Ariana gave me a look before pulling a tissue out of her purse and wiping her mom’s mouth. “I wasn’t pressured. I wanted to sleep with Cesar’s brothers. I-I talked them into it.”

  Sara fell against Angus’s shoulder. I was starting to realize Sara’s swooning was just theatrics.

  Nice try, Señora Wedge Pillow.

  Angus’s beet-red face changed to an alarming purple. “What?”

  “But all those sex toys,” Sara cried.

  Ariana crossed her arms, turning up her chin in a defiant gesture. “Are mine.”

  Sara swooned again. “Ay dios mio!”

  “I’m sorry I’m not a prude,” Ariana said. “This is just who I am.”

  “And Cesar and I had no idea it was going on,” I added. “We’re not into that sort of thing.” I squeezed Ariana’s shoulder. “Not that I’m judging you, Ariana.”

  She shrugged, flashing a sly smile. “It’s not for everyone.”