Chapter 2 #2
“Fine. Did Celine make breakfast?” I queried, checking the time on my wrist.
“Sure did. She got everything set up for you. So tell me what’s going on with the money.” Ledge fell in stride with me to the kitchen.
“We can clean half of our cash and have it go directly into our Cayman accounts. The problem is going to be finding another investment to wash this shit. We already have the laundromats, a few detail shops, and the grocery stores. But we need to think bigger. We need something that’s not going to draw attention and something that covers well on paper,” I explained as we entered the warmth of my kitchen.
Celine, the older woman that basically ran my house since I was a kid my-damn-self, was in the kitchen at the stove.
That was normal for her. She made me breakfast, lunch, and dinner all my fucking life.
Even when my parents left the States, Celine stuck around because she said she didn’t have anything else to do.
She didn’t have much family and no children, so working here gave her purpose.
“Morning, Celine,” I greeted her.
She turned slightly at the counter and gave me her famous warm smile, crinkling up the corner of her eyes. “Hey, my boy,” she responded.
For as long as I could remember, that was what she called me from the day I could understand it.
I spent more time with Celine in my life than my own parents.
She gave me sound advice and was something like my confidant and conscience.
She already had the table set up for two with plates and everything, so I strolled right over and took my place.
The newspaper was off to the side, and I instantly reached for a napkin to place in my lap before grabbing my freshly poured cup of coffee.
Ledge remained standing beside me, looking over my shoulder like he had some shit on his mind.
“I can talk to Chevelle about it. See if she got any ideas.” He tucked his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, do that, but don’t give her no details.
I don’t have time for her and her shit. Do me a favor.
Bring Harbor down.” I bowed my head and said grace before diving into the French toast, eggs, and turkey sausage links on my plate.
There was fresh fruit sliced in front of me along with oatmeal and yogurt. Celine liked to give you options.
“Bruh, I’m just saying, how much longer we dealing with this? The longer it goes on—”
“Ledge, I got it.” I cut my eyes at him sharply.
My partner bobbed his head and did as I instructed, clearing the room. I sat thoughtfully as I ate, and Celine brought an omelet to also set on my plate. It smelled amazing and looked even better.
“There you go,” She said with a nod. “And don’t forget to eat some of that fruit. How was your business trip?” she asked next.
“It was okay. How were things here?”
“They were fine. Your houseguest doesn’t seem to be enjoying her time here. How much longer is this going to go on?”
“Why? You got a dog in this race?” I asked, cocking one brow in question as well.
Celine wasn’t na?ve to anything that I did.
There always tended to be a method to my madness in the end.
I was a lot like my father—brooding and thoughtful.
She watched me grow into the man that I was.
Life had hardened me over time to the point where I didn’t even believe anything good could come my way.
Celine peered down her thin nose at me. Her angular face was beautiful.
She reminded me of the actress Robin Morgan.
She kept her dreads neat, her skin was smooth like silk, and she had the warmest eyes and mouth.
When she smiled, it had brought me a lot of comfort in life, sometimes even more so than with my actual mother.
“First of all, watch your tone,” she quipped, hand falling on her hip.
Celine checked me with so much grace and love that it was hard to even take offense to it. I mostly felt shame when she scolded me. I fell back in my chair, arms up on the table and a fork in one hand with a knife in the other to cut into my food.
“What I’m saying is… maybe you need to reconsider what exactly you are doing here. Have you lost sight of what it is?” Celine questioned.
Shaking my head, I continued to chew my food and stare up at her peculiarly.
She had a way of putting some shit that simplified it.
Even if I was wrong, she would tell me and allow me to go through whatever it was.
She didn’t try to talk me out of anything.
She was my voice of reason. Her almond-shaped orbs took me in, and she lifted one brow while I searched my brain for answers. Shaking my head, I cut into my omelet.
“Nah, I ain’t lost sight.” I grabbed a forkful and stuffed it into my mouth. “I didn’t start this.”
“Neither did she. She’s a casualty in all of this. So are you just going to keep her here forever against her will?” Celine posed.
“Until I feel like I’ve gotten everything I can out of her, yes. If you have a problem with it, take a vacation. I’ll send you anywhere you want to go,” I suggested, growing agitated with the conversation.
“Now you trying to get rid of me?” Celine asked, tilting her head.
“Nah, I’m just saying—”
“Save it.” She stopped me. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m the only one around here with some kind of morals.” She teased as Harbor was brought into the kitchen with Ledge behind her.
She was very rigid, not at all relaxed, more uncomfortable than anything.
Ledge pulled out her chair for her. She dropped down into it, and I noticed she had changed into a pair of jogger pants, a T-shirt and sneakers.
Her ponytail was neat but still sitting high on top of her head.
With no makeup, she was flawless, and I found myself studying her smooth skin.
“Good morning, Harbor,” Celine greeted her like she was a resident here. Technically, she was, but she was never allowed out of her room unless I green lit it.
“Good morning, Celine.” Harbor was soft when she spoke.
“Have something to eat. I’m sure you got up at the crack of dawn and began dancing,” Celine noted, and Harbor reached for her fork on the table.
The two seemed pretty friendly with one another.
I guess after being held against her will for almost a year, she’d probably cling to anybody that was nice and genuine.
Celine was both. Ledge hung back, eyes glued to Harbor while she ate.
I knew how he felt about the matter. He was the one that snatched her up for me, and he let me know out the gate that he thought she would be a problem.
“Ledge, give us a minute. Go check with Chevelle on that and then come back later,” I instructed.
His eyes wandered from canvassing every inch of Harbor while she ate and over to me.
Bobbing his head in agreement, he backed away from the table.
Celine remained in the kitchen at the counter doing dishes while I watched Harbor slowly bring food to her perfect, supple ass lips and take bird bites.
If we had been in a different type of setting and I’d met her anywhere else, she definitely would’ve made it on the roster of women I kept in rotation.
I was much older than her though—at least fifteen years.
She still carried a bright innocence in her eyes that most women lost when they were teenagers.
I couldn’t confirm it, but part of me wondered if she was in fact a virgin.
There was something very chaste and na?ve about her.
She wasn’t secure in her skin, and that led me to believe that she hadn’t been handled by a man before.
Her eyes parked on mine, but the rest of her expression was blank as hell.
For the last year here she’d been held, and I still hadn’t tapped into the parts of her that I needed.
She was guarded as fuck, no matter what I threatened her with.
I wasn’t the kind of man to abuse or harm her with torture tactics or shit like that.
At first, I rationed her meals, giving her just enough to get by.
Then I only gave her access to the one room of the house unless she was eating.
I wasn’t completely heartless, but yes, she was in an elaborate prison of sorts, and she wasn’t the only one.
I often felt the same way. The world turned into a cold, lonely place since I didn’t interact with people.
I was isolated, but it was for a reason.
When I dealt with people, someone typically ended up dead.
The situation was increasingly stressful because I hadn’t achieved what I wanted in the time span I had predicted.
Everything that was happening with Harbor was…
unprecedented. Ledge knew it. That was why he was always side-eying me about some shit.
If it were left to him, she would’ve been found in a ditch somewhere eight months ago.
“How are things going with our project?” I queried, peering at her over my mug of coffee while I sipped.
“It’s fine. Right on target,” she conveyed, focusing on her food.
She moved her eggs around and kept her head down.
“Good,” I said, nodding.
“When do I get to leave here?” she asked, giving me pause.
I placed my coffee mug back down and met her eyes across the table. “Who says that’s an option?” I fired back, catching her off guard.
“You think you can just keep me here, doing your dirty work, held up like some prisoner?” she questioned, brows dipping above her expresso orbs.
“I think I can do whatever the fuck I want to do,” I answered, grabbing my napkin from my lap and wiping my mouth while remaining calm.
She didn’t respond right away, but she kept angered eyes fixed on me.
“And what if I stop doing what you want me to do? I want to go home. If you aren’t going to let me go, then just kill me.
Anything is better than having you dictate every single thing that I do.
I have a father, I don’t need another. This is crazy,” she huffed, frustrated.