Chapter 14 Carmen Royal
CARMEN ROYAL
The mansion felt too big without Dom in it, and that was the first thing that got on my nerves because I hated how much I could feel his absence in a house that was never truly empty.
People were still there as the maids moved through the halls with baskets of folded laundry and fresh flowers.
Security checked in from outside. Drivers came and went through the garage.
Somewhere downstairs, one of the televisions was always on, and the kitchen was never fully quiet because somebody was always wiping a counter, polishing glass, or moving a pot from one burner to another.
Still, when Dom wasn’t there, the whole place felt different.
It was as if the walls knew he was gone.
I hated that I had gotten so used to him being in every room of my life that the second he stepped out of it, the whole damn house felt off balance.
I knew where he was, or at least I knew enough. I knew he was in Colombia. I knew who he was there for. I knew exactly what kind of conversation he was probably having and what kind of role he was probably playing, and by that point I really didn’t care what he had to do in order to get it done.
I had already gone through all the emotions I was going to go through over that.
At first, the thought of Victoria having access to even a piece of his time had gotten under my skin in a way I didn’t like admitting out loud.
I knew Dom didn’t want her, I knew better than that because I knew my husband.
However, I knew Victoria was the type of woman who could turn a phone call into a fantasy, a fantasy into a delusion, and a delusion into a problem.
She was the kind of woman who would stare at a half-open door and convince herself it was love inviting her in.
And by that point, I didn’t care if Dom had to sit there and pretend to be softer than he was, flirt if he had to, sit closer than he wanted to, or let her believe whatever she needed to believe just to lower her guard. I did not care; I wanted it done.
I wanted peace! I wanted to stop feeling like every few weeks there was another threat, or another name, or another enemy, or another reason for me to wonder who was watching us and who was waiting for their chance to strike.
I wanted my baby to come into this world with as little chaos around us as possible, and if somebody had to disappear to make that happen, then so be it.
So, I tried to keep myself busy. That was the only thing that had been working for me lately when my mind started going too much.
If I sat still too long, I started thinking.
If I started thinking, I started imagining things as far as Dom getting there, Victoria smiling too hard, or Dom looking around some big house with that unreadable face he wore when he was already three steps ahead of everybody else.
Then my thoughts would slide into darker places from there, and I didn’t have the emotional energy for any of that. So, I decided to move around.
I started in the nursery because that room had become the one place in the mansion that could make me feel soft and terrified at the same time. The door was already cracked open when I stepped in, and for a second I just stood there with one hand on my stomach and let myself look at it.
It was beautiful with soft cream walls, a fancy white crib, and shelves lined with books and stuffed animals as well.
The rocking chair was in the corner near the window.
Little neutral color outfits were hanging in the closet because nobody knew what the baby was and me and Dom still wanted it that way.
There were folded blankets, little gray socks, bibs, tiny washcloths, and more gifts than any one baby had a right to already own.
Candy D was still buying things every chance her and my father-in-law got.
O’Shynn and Dique were the same way, and I can’t even thank my law firm enough because they were sending gifts every chance they got.
I walked farther into the room and picked up one of the little onesies folded on the dresser, rubbing the soft fabric between my fingers while the baby had a party in my belly.
It wasn’t a hard kick, just a lot of movement, enough to make me smile and rub my stomach slowly.
“Your daddy better come home in one piece,” I whispered, and hearing my own voice in that room made me miss him more than I wanted to.
That was enough of that though. I retrieved my phone and decided to facetime Kilo.
He answered on the first ring looking healthy, but he was still in the hospital because he had some therapy and rehabilitation he had to go through.
It was by the grace of God he was alive and walking, but he had an ugly scar running from the center of his chest to his lower abdomen.
We spoke every other day, and he was surely more than a client now after taking that hit for me.
When he watched the story on the news and heard about the Riverside murders, he didn’t have to question what happened because he knew and what was understood didn’t have to be explained.
When he saw them bring Dom in, he knew that wasn’t anything to worry about.
“Carmen… Mrs. Royal.” He said sitting up in bed shirtless wearing his scar like a badge of honor.
He was still extremely handsome, and it was crazy how many women were fighting for his time.
He was eating what looked like some Jello because eighty percent of his foods still had to be soft for the time being.
“Killer Kilo,” I teased him with a light smile as I looked around the nursery. “How are you? You’re looking good, skin is back glowing.”
“He smiled showing off his gold teeth. “Aye, Mrs. Royal, when you got the ladies showin’ as much love as these bitches…” he stopped and caught himself with a laugh. “My fault, but you know what I mean, they showin’ the boy love. Trying to treat me like a king and shit.”
I giggled. “I absolutely love that for you, but don’t get caught up too soon. When are you officially going home?”
“Shit, hopefully soon. It’s been damn near two months. I can’t take this shit much longer.”
“Yeah, well maybe they need to keep you there so you can stay out of trouble.” I sassed half joking and half telling the truth.
“Aye, if I get in trouble, I know who to call though. The best muhfuckin’ criminal defense attorney in the south. They ain’t fuckin’ with’chu Mrs. Royal. Rugged niggas like me in these streets need you. Matter-fact I think I got one more case.”
I laughed. “Bye Kilo, I’ll check on you in a few days.”
He stretched his eyes. “Wait, I’m serious though, you just gon’ hang up on me?”
“Bye!”
I ended the call still giggling to myself.
I then left the nursery before my emotions could get stupid and go back to Dom.
Next, I changed into some black leggings and one of Dom’s old t-shirts.
I pulled my hair up, slid into slippers, and started moving through the house with the kind of restless energy pregnant women got when sitting down felt impossible.
I changed the bed even though the maids would’ve done it if I asked.
I opened every curtain in the master suite.
I straightened the bathroom drawers and reorganized my makeup for no damn reason.
I sorted through stacks of baby gifts again, folded little blankets that were already folded, and carried two decorative baskets from one room to another just because I decided I didn’t like where they were sitting.
The maids tried more than once to take over, and every time I waved them off.
“I got it,” I told one when she reached for the sheets in my hand.
“Mrs. Royal, you should sit down,” she said, in a gentle but nervous tone because everybody in that house tiptoed around my pregnancy like I was made of crystal and they knew Dom wouldn’t want me touching anything at all. He wanted everyone waiting on me hands and foot.
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t about to explain all that. Fine was easier, and fine kept people from fussing.
By the time I made it downstairs, my body was warm from moving around so much, and the kitchen suddenly felt like the only place I wanted to be.
It smelled like lemons and whatever one of the cooks had been prepping earlier to eat for later, but I dismissed most of the staff from in there too because I didn’t want anybody hovering me.
I wanted to do something simple that had nothing to do with encrypted phones, attorneys, news stations, police, Colombia, or women named Victoria. So, I decided to cook myself as well.
I tied an apron around my waist and started from scratch cutting an onion, a garlic and then grabbing seasoning s, tomato paste, crushed tomatoes, basil, parsley, and ground beef.
I had a pot of water heating on the other burner and placed some rolls in the oven.
I moved around the kitchen more on instinct than thought, and little by little the room started smelling like garlic, butter, tomato sauce, and warm bread.
It smelled like a husband coming back through the doors late and hungry and ready to tear this food down.
I stirred the sauce the sauce and tasted it before adding more seasoning.
I then wiped the counter and turned the oven down a little.
It almost felt peaceful, or at least I thought.