Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tisha didn’t show up, and she didn’t answer my calls or texts. It pissed me off. I jumped into my car and traveled to her apartment. I’d never been before, but I made it my business to know where she lived when we started sleeping together.
I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, realizing her car wasn’t there.
I didn’t panic. Her not being here didn’t mean anything.
Tisha was her own woman and didn’t owe me any explanation.
But she was connected to me, had been in the media with me over the years, therefore, she was a target.
Maybe she went out.
I couldn’t believe I was out here trying to track down a fucking woman I was sleeping with for the past five years.
I swung my car out of the lot and headed back home.
I never had a woman enraged me like Tisha, but that didn’t mean I would be a fool for her.
I was Steven fucking Smith, king of these streets.
I made people cower, and I got shit done.
I never had to remind myself of who I was before. Maybe this rift between me and Tisha was for the best. It would keep me focused on my own shit instead of her. Our relationship, for now, could be all business if that was what she wanted. It was fine with me.
I rose from bed the next morning well-aware Tisha hadn’t been there. Her presence was something I was becoming accustomed to. Not having her here irritated me.
Dressing for work became a race against time.
Like me, Tisha arrived at work early. If I caught her, it would give us a chance to talk about what was bothering her.
Her reaction to that bastard being killed took me by surprise.
I didn’t think she still had feelings for him.
It was obvious I was wrong. I didn’t understand it, and I needed her to talk to me, so I’d stop feeling this heavy coiling in my gut.
In record time, I pulled into my parking space. This was the first time in a long time Joshua hadn’t driven me. I slammed the door and marched to the nearest elevator, punching the button with unnecessary force.
The door slid open at an agonizingly slow pace. Or maybe it was my impatience. I stepped into the car, pressing the lobby button. Normally, she made my office her first stop every morning to check what the agenda was for the day.
As soon as the doors opened, I stomped my way to my office, quickly swiping my card over the pad. I flung my door open so hard it hit the wall behind it, bouncing back toward me.
She isn’t here.
“Maybe she’s running a little late,” I mumbled, closing my office door behind me. I trudged over to my desk, turning on my computer. Despite what was happening between me and Tisha, I still had a company to run.
I threw myself into my work, pushing the fact that in the back of my mind, I hadn’t seen or heard from Tisha all day.
I’d briefly seen her team during lunch and inquired about her.
Without her there, I was on a fucking rampage, snapping at people more than I normally did, being a surly motherfucker.
My mood got worse when her team didn’t divulge any information.
I faced Jeremiah, Tisha’s second-in-command. “Do you know where she went?”
His eyes grew as wide as saucers, but he shook his head. “No,” he answered.
Either they were covering for her or were telling the truth about not hearing from her all day.
I suspected the former, though. I was glad at their loyalty to Tisha but also incensed that I couldn’t get shit out of them.
I had a few meetings that I needed to take care of, so I would push Tisha out of my mind.
TISHA
I was having difficulty reconciling the man I’d been sleeping with and hopelessly falling in love with over the years with the man who so cold-heartedly admitted to ordering Tristan’s death.
I took time off to get my head on straight.
I knew that I probably should’ve given Steven the heads-up, but I was so upset with him.
It had been ages since I’d gotten to look out over the cool crisp water.
That was one thing I missed about California.
But instead of heading to where I spent some of the best and the worst times of my life, I went for comfort.
I went home.
It didn’t take my mother long to sense something was wrong.
I hadn’t been home in years, so when my mother asked me to sit down with her, I knew the twenty questions were coming.
I sat at the kitchen island while my mother made herself busy making coffee and plating cookies.
My mother never baked cookies unless she thought things were dire, and the person needed some serious TLC.
I wouldn’t tell her I was sleeping with my boss and that he had my friend—ex-friend—killed.
Anything else concerning my life I’d be glad to answer.
It felt good to be home and around familiarity. My mom placed the cookies in front of me and a hot, steaming mug of coffee beside them. She took a seat beside me, taking a sip of her own steaming mug.
“Okay, spill.”
I almost spit out my coffee. Normally, she probed or started a conversation before she came out and asked what she wanted to know.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.
“Don’t play dumb, Tisha. You’ve not been home in years, then show up with no phone call or anything. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
I picked up a cookie and bit into it carefully, mulling over my words. “Remember the guy from my team who attacked me?” She nodded. “Well, he’s dead.”
“Good,” she said, picking up a cookie.
I was surprised. My mom was a gentle soul, never wishing ill will on anyone. The most I’d ever seen her upset was when she heard what happened to me. She was ready to go to war for me until I talked her down.
“Mom, regardless of what he did, he was a part of my team. He was my friend…” I trailed off. Yes, I still considered Tristan a part of my circle, even though he tried to kill me. Maybe that was stupid on my part. And most won’t understand it, but it was what made sense to me.
Before the Navy, I never put my trust in people. Having to depend on someone to make sure you lived and, in turn, them having to depend on you made people closer. That was why I never thought he would attack me.
“Bullshit. Friends don’t try to kill one another.” Her comment caught me off guard, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. She was reacting like any mother would when their child was in danger.
I threw up my hands. I didn’t want this to turn into a bash Tristan session. I just wanted to answer her question.
“I came home so I could wrap my head around the fact he’s dead.” I took a sip of lukewarm coffee. “Mom, I don’t know how to feel.”
She gave a curt nod as she took another cookie and bit into it.
“Well, you should feel relieved, but I do understand your confusion.” My mom got up from her barstool and wrapped one arm around my shoulder, pulling me close.
“Regardless, we’re here, and you can stay as long as you like.
” She dumped the rest of her coffee in the sink and rinsed her mug, then settled on the barstool beside me. “How long are you staying?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. A few days? A week?” I wasn’t sure how long it would take to get past what Steven did.
My mother scrutinized me. “There’s something else.”
“No, there’s nothing else.”
I stood, dumping the rest of my coffee into the sink, then rinsing it. Steven Smith was off limits, especially with my mother.
Before she could pry any more, my cell rang. I swiped it from the counter.
Dennis? Why is he calling?
“Hello?”
“Tisha, you’ve got to get back here.” My heart rate increased from the urgency in his voice.
What’s happened now?
“Dennis, slow down. What’s wrong?”
He took a few deep breaths. “Smith’s lost his fucking mind.” I forced myself not to roll my eyes. I should’ve known it had something to do with him. “He’s been on a fucking warpath since you’ve been gone.”
I went upstairs, my mother’s eyes boring into my back. Reaching the top of the stairs, I gave her a thumbs-up to wipe the concern off her face.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, Tisha. We see the calming effect you have over the beast. These past few years he’s slowly gone soft. We think it’s because of you.”
“So, you guys talk about me behind my back, is what you’re telling me?” I continued to my room, closing the door behind me. I strolled to the window and looked out over the gardens.
“No, Tish. Not like that,” Dennis said, trying to dig himself out of the hole he’d dug. “You know you’re like a sister to all of us.”
“I know.” I turned away from the window and sat on the edge of my bed. “I can’t come back yet. Maybe in a few days.”
“Okay,” Dennis sighed. “It’s just we never knew how much you and Donavon deterred his wrath before. I’ll let everyone know.”
“Just stay out of his way if you can,” I advised. “I’ll talk to you later.”
We ended the call. I didn’t know what was going on with Steven or why, but I had my own demons to fight. Today was Tristan’s funeral, and I didn’t know whether I would go.
I made my way back down the stairs to the kitchen. My mother was putting away the cookies she’d made in a plastic bowl. Before she could place the top, I snatched two more.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
Nodding, I took a bite out of a cookie. “Yeah. I don’t know what the guys would do without me.” I smiled around a mouthful of chewy chocolate chip cookies, swallowed, then squared my shoulders. I’d made my decision. “Tristan’s funeral is today.”
My mom gazed at me. She searched my face for a moment, then nodded.
“You need me to go with?”
I shook my head. I never voiced that I would go, but apparently, whatever she saw convinced her there was no talking me out of it. I needed closure, and this was how to get it.
“No. I need to do this myself.”
“We’ll be here when you get back,” she said, walking out of the kitchen toward the den where my father was.
I was ready. It’d been a long time coming.