Chapter 4 #6
For the rest of the meal, no one spoke. Ivy cleared her plate and carried it to the sink while Celine picked up mine and hers and took them over.
I sighed heavily. I was full as fuck from the meal, and my daughter and her inner thoughts were beginning to plague me.
I didn’t want to be hard on her. She was all that I had left of Ivana.
I had to make sure that a fine line was drawn between her and business.
Things with Harbor were starting to be a complication.
The entire time I sat there eating, I was submerged with thoughts of how I was going to play this shit with her.
Tossing my napkin on the table, I stood and went over to the island in the kitchen.
Ivy had practically bolted out of the room, and I was sitting here also trying to think of ways to apologize to her.
“What is really bothering you?” Celine didn’t even turn around to face me.
“Where do you want me to start?” I asked, running my hand down my face.
Stressed wasn’t even the fucking word.
“Wherever the biggest problem is,” Celine conveyed, running dish water.
“The biggest problem I have right now is tucked away in a wing of this house,” I explained, palms on the counter while dropping my head low.
Celine paused and slightly curved her waist and faced me. “What are you going to do about it?” She looked me over.
I could tell if she wanted to know if I was going to kill her. I kept it all the way one hundred with Celine. She never judged me, and she loved me anyway, despite all my flaws. Lord knows a nigga had plenty of those.
“For the first time, my profession is not the answer,” I concluded.
Both of her brows went up with interest. “Do you know what the answer is?” she questioned, turning back to the sink.
“I’m taking a big risk with this girl,” I spoke softly. “And for the first time, I’m second-guessing this shit,” I admitted.
“You are pretty good about going with your gut. What is it telling you about this?”
“I need her,” I voiced, and Celine must’ve heard the desperation in my tone because she faced me.
Worry clouded her cinnamon-colored face as both of her thick brows dipped above her warm coffee-bean eyes.
“Then you do have a problem. You have to get her on your good side. And that’s not going to be easy because she doesn’t trust you,” Celine reminded me. “And she has every right not to.”
She was right. This was where my charms usually came in.
How was I able to get her to trust me after everything that I had done to her?
Could I allow her to live freely without putting myself out there as a target?
Knowledge definitely wasn’t going to go for that shit.
Just thinking about explaining all this to him was draining me.
After letting her words sit within me a little longer, I decided to try and extend an olive branch to Harbor.
She was either going to take what I was giving her or continue to be stubborn.
With a bottle of Hennessy and two glasses in hand, I carried them through the house and up to where Harbor lay her head.
There was silence on the other side of her door.
I grabbed my key and let myself inside. The bedside table held a lamp that illuminated the room in a soft glow, and I listened as the shower ran.
Closing the door quietly behind me, I took a few steps inside.
Posted in the chair beside the dresser and door to the private bath, I poured myself a drink and waited patiently until I heard the shower cut off.
Harbor’s footsteps padded toward me. She towel dried her hair with a robe tied loosely around her waist.
“I thought we could try and find some common ground.” My voice scared her straight.
She almost hit the ceiling when she jumped and spun around to face me.
Her big eyes doubled in size, and her hand fell on her chest when she gasped.
Her wet skin and part of her breast were exposed, leaving only her nipples covered.
I wasn’t the kind of nigga that was easily swayed by a woman’s body.
Usually, I had to know they had some fucking sense for them to even spark any feeling from me.
Harbor had long ago surpassed my level of interest. Against my protests, my dick was also intrigued.
“What the hell are you doing!” she hissed, quickly covering herself and tying the robe so tight I wondered if she could fucking breathe.
Slowly, I brought the glass to my lips and tipped it into my mouth. “I have a proposition for you, Harbor. Are you going to hear me out or run your mouth?” I quizzed her.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she combed her fingers through her wet hair while raking her striking eyes all over me.
Her features turned dark and impassive. From the look of her red-rimmed eyes, she had been crying.
Part of me wondered what it was about, leaving a nagging feeling lingering somewhere inside me.
Was it because of me, or was it something else?
HARBOR
Life sure had done a number and turned the tables on me.
Everything had been flipped to some strange degree, and I was still trying to figure out how the fuck I had gotten here.
After I was allowed to call my father and hear what he had to say and what he thought of me, that shit threw me off-kilter.
All that time, I pictured him and my sister and friends putting up posters of me, losing sleep, and following every lead to find me.
After a year, I thought that hearing his voice would bring me some kind of comfort.
It hadn’t. If anything, I felt more disconnected than ever.
Being here, trapped, like some wounded ass bird in a cage didn’t exactly give me any kind of confidence boost either.
The way that Frequency eyeballed me left me vulnerable.
I didn’t expect to like how he soaked in my curves and the skin of my breast when it was revealed to him suddenly.
Even when I covered up, he continued to look me over like a decadent piece of chocolate cake.
I expected to feel violated. After all, he had kidnapped me.
There was something underneath his unpredictable eyes and the way they seared through me.
I didn’t like him, but I didn’t hate him either.
I probably had some kind of PTSD thanks to the experience.
I’d heard about cases where the victim actually falls for her captor.
That shit was sure to leave some long-term scars behind.
When, and if, I ever left the house, I knew that I wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be the same.
The bottle of Hennessy he set on the dresser along with another empty glass caught my eye.
I hadn’t had alcohol in a year, and I needed it.
“Are you sharing?” I quipped, sniffling and taking a seat on the side of the bed.
Now I was facing him in the chair. I hawked him as he arched forward, elbows resting on his knees while he held his glass between both of his large hands.
For the first time, I saw something that somewhat resembled a smirk.
His lips were thick and pink with a little dimple in the middle that was kind of sexy as he reached for the Hennessy bottle and glass.
He stationed himself on his feet and poured before bringing it over to me.
Standing a couple of feet within my range, I caught a whiff of his cologne.
Somehow, in the midst of all this shit, it aroused me.
I didn’t expect it, and immediately, I tensed up when he held the drink out to me.
Our eyes caught in the dim room, and I observed his hand before reaching out for the glass he offered me.
Before I could grasp it, his eyes tightened into slits, and he drew it back.
“Are you of age now?”
“Does it really matter at this point? How many laws have I broken even being here?” I retorted snippily. “But… if you must know… yes… I am ‘of age’ now.”
Frequency held the glass out to me once again, and I took it from him slowly.
He backed away, going to take position back in his chair.
I brought my nose to the glass and inhaled.
Closing my eyes, I brought the rim to my lips and took a nice chug.
The burn I felt coursing through me was satisfying, and it went lower, beyond my chest to lower regions.
Shit! It had been a long time since I had felt… anything.
Like a flower plucked without proper care, I wasn’t growing here.
I was cut short, and I didn’t know what happened beyond it.
I stopped thinking about the future. When I opened my eyes, his were fixed on me.
No fucking lie, that shit rattled me. Frequency had the most-mesmerizing eyes.
Whether I liked or loathed him, his handsome facade could not be denied.
He brought his leg up, crossing it over the other while keeping his glass resting in his hand against his leg.
I stared into my glass, watching the liquor move like it had a cure in it or something.
“I thought getting kidnapped was the worst thing to happen to me.” Just that little dose had me in my feelings.
My tolerance wasn’t shit at that point. Self-pity had entered the room. “Turns out it wasn’t.” I took another chug.
“So… that life I thought I belonged to… it doesn’t exactly sound like it’s waiting on me with open arms. Ironically, I should probably thank you. Sure, I’m probably psychologically damaged, but… at least I know how people really feel about me. That’s better for me in the long run.”
“I want you to work for me,” Frequency disclosed, no humor in his tone, so I had to assume that he was in fact serious.
Swallowing the last of the drink, I held it in my jaws for a second before allowing it down. I wasn’t sure how to react to his proposal.
“So am I like your slave now?” I asked.
“That’s up to you,” was his response.