CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Whose home is this?” asked Stephanie as she looked around the massive living, dining, and kitchen space. It was an open concept with naturally hewn beams running across the ceiling and magnificent paintings of the bayou and New Orleans on the walls.
“Mine,” said Braxton. “I mean, it’s yours for as long as you need it, but it’s mine. It’s big. There are three bedrooms, three bathrooms. The kitchen is big. We will hardly see each other with as much as I work. I won’t bother you, I promise.”
She looked at him and then looked around the space. Katelyn set her bag down and smiled at her.
“It’s all going to be okay now. You get settled and feeling better, and then we can talk about maybe you working for all of us. What were you studying before all this?” she asked.
“Genetics.”
“That makes sense,” smiled Braxton. She looked at him and swallowed. It did make sense, but she hated how she’d come to it.
“Dinner is in thirty minutes. We’ll see you at the cafeteria,” said Chelsea. “You’re safe here, Stephanie. Don’t worry about anything. You’ll be okay on the property. The men will protect you, and no one will know where you are or will be able to get to you. All you have to do is rest, take care of yourself, and you’ll heal. We’re going to help you.”
“Why? Why would you help me? We weren’t allowed to be friends at the school. You don’t owe me anything.”
“We were all fooled, Stephanie,” said Katelyn. “We are all part of some maniac’s grand plan. We didn’t have a choice in the matter, and now I choose to have choices. I choose to be productive. I choose to be healthy. I choose to have friends and a marriage and children. I choose to love.”
“Will I have choices?” she asked.
“All the choices you want,” said Braxton. “You choose your clothes, food, music, television programs, and the job you want to do. The only choice you don’t get is to place your life or the lives of anyone else here in danger.”
“I would never do that,” she whispered, shaking her head. Katelyn squeezed her hand.
“We’re here for you. All of us.” The girls left them alone, and Stephanie turned, staring at Braxton.
“Don’t you have a wife or girlfriend?”
“Nope. I only just retired from the military. I haven’t really had time to meet anyone or get to know them.”
She nodded, taking off the ball cap she was wearing. Her hair was a sunny, golden blonde. It fell like a waterfall to the top of her ass cheeks, and Brax swallowed. He couldn’t help but think that her features were hand-selected during the cloning process. They were doll-like with big blue eyes and that hair that seemed to go on for days.
“Can I get my hair cut?” she asked.
“If you want. There’s a salon at the front of our property. I can take you there.”
“N-no. I’ll do it myself.”
“Yourself? No. I can get Keegan or Winter to come here,” he said. He sent a text and waited, showing her where to put her things and then the rest of the house. “If you need more clothes we can get those for you. Avery manufactures beauty products, including shampoo, conditioner, bath oils, soaps, and perfume. If there’s something you like and want more of, let me know. If there’s something different you want, tell me, and I’ll find it.”
The knock on the door had two smiling women staring back at him.
“Ladies, thank you for coming so quickly. Miss Stephanie here would like to get her hair cut before dinner if possible.” He smiled at Stephanie and watched the women move toward her.
“Make room,” smiled Keegan. “What a beautiful color!”
“Thank you.”
“How much do you want off?” asked Winter.
“Maybe a foot?” she said with a questioning expression.
“A foot?” frowned Brax.
“No?”
“No. I mean, it’s your hair, a foot if you want. But it’s beautiful. Maybe six inches or so? I don’t know. Don’t ask me,” he said nervously. “I’ll just go do some laundry or something.”
While Braxton got busy, Keegan and Winter worked magic on Stephanie’s hair. They only cut about eight inches off but gave it soft layers, framing her beautiful face. When Brax returned to the living room, they were all done and headed out.
“See you at dinner, honey. You look beautiful,” said Keegan. The door closed, and Brax was frozen in place.
“Well?” She tilted her head, wondering what the strange expression was on his face. He seemed to be searching for his words, then finally spoke.
“She’s right. You look beautiful.”
“Then why do you look so unhappy?” she asked.
“Because I am truly fucked.”
The overwhelming welcome at dinner had Stephanie nearly making a run for the door. Every time someone approached her, she would scoot closer to Braxton, making him stiffen. She didn’t seem to notice, but he could smell her shampoo and feel the soft skin of her body touching his own.
“What’s wrong with you?” whispered Pax.
“Nothing.”
“Something is wrong. You’re acting like you have a stick up your ass.” Brax let out a long breath and just shook his head.
“Your hair looks great, Stephanie,” said Katelyn. “I remember you always having incredibly long hair.”
“It grows insanely fast,” she said. “I’m going to guess that’s another genetic freaky thing inside of me. One of the many I’m trying to figure out in my own work.”
“Don’t do that,” said Braxton. She looked at him, blushing a bright pink. Pax, Mav, and Saint stared at him, wondering what the hell he was doing.
“Do what?”
“Don’t be so self-deprecating. We all know who you are. You’re Stephanie. A woman who was cloned from other people’s DNA. So what? You’re human, you’re beautiful, you’re brilliant. None of the rest matters.”
Stephanie set her fork down and stared at the others. Turning, she looked up at him.
“Let me ask you something, Braxton. Where are your parents?”
“Right there,” he said, pointing to the table.
“And your siblings?”
“He’s right there, obviously. We’re twins.”
“And your friends.”
“Here,” he said, grinding his teeth together.
“And you know your grandparents, aunts, uncles, godparents, all of it. You know them all because you have a history. I do not. I don’t have a history. I have someone else’s history and some vague notes left in a laboratory about a strange beaker and an experiment gone wrong.
“I’m stuck in a continuous loop of trying to figure out who I am because I don’t have a history. Whether it makes you uncomfortable or not, I am a freaky DNA experiment. So I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t criticize me for stating the obvious about my obscure history.”
Everyone at the table raised their brows, surprised by her long speech.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. But you do have a history. It’s you. It’s who you are. You might not be able to see it yet, but every step of your childhood, your existence created a history. Just because you don’t know your parents or grandparents doesn’t mean it’s not there. We have a lot of people here who never met their parents, and believe me, some of them are grateful they didn’t.”
Stephanie stared at him, tears filling her eyes as she nodded at him. She gently pushed the plate back from her, looking at the other women at the table.
“Forgive me. I’m suddenly very tired.” She stood quickly, leaving the cafeteria as the others just stared at him. He knew he’d overstepped, but he was also trying to tell her that none of that shit mattered to him. He didn’t do it very well. He knew that now. In fact, he rarely said anything the right way.
His intention was never to hurt her or make her feel bad for stating how she felt. Now, he had to apologize.
“Fuck.”