Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Page 9

  "I didn't say you were, but you've never been like this."

  At that moment, the outer door buzzed as Neely had not yet opened for business.

  "I'll get it," said Raif.

  Two men entered, and Raif started pointing out paintings.

  "What are you doing?" Neely asked in alarm and near tears when she came into the tattoo shop.

  "Taking you to Pierre's Picks."

  "What?"

  "Pierre has arranged an art show for you."

  "Oh, no! No, Raif!" She put both hands to her cheeks. "What if nobody likes them?"

  He took her by the shoulders. "They will love your work. Neely, you're an artist. People should see your artistry. Trust me. Now, come on, let's finish breakfast. Pierre wants to meet you."

  At Pierre's Picks, Pierre was ecstatic. "Oh, Raif, darling! I see why she's so good. She's a work of art herself."

  Pierre handed Raif a small box. "Here are your invitations. I'll be sending the others out today. Neely, you must relax, sweetheart. Raiford Gautier has excellent taste, as do I. I assure you will have instant success."

  Raif took Neely to lunch before taking her home. He handed her four invitations. He explained, "One for Colleen, one for Amile, one for Esther, and one to keep. I'm delivering the others. I won't be coming this Friday. I'll see you a week from Friday. We have a gala affair to attend on Saturday."

  Neely put her arms around Raif's neck. "Thank you. Thank you for believing in me. Raif, I…"

  "Shh," said Raif, and to keep Neely from talking, he kissed her soundly and left.

  Raif delivered invitations to Ray and Larkin Reynolds and family, Dorothy and Albert Reynolds, Audrey and Walter Bertram, Parker and Sheena Reynolds, Terry and Carol Johnson and family, Brian and Olivia Baker, and Rona and Auggie Fairchild. He mailed one to Lindsay and Dupree Parks and family, and he kept one and invited Trista and Patrick by mouth. He rationalized that if his family wanted to meet Neely, this would be the perfect opportunity without making her feel intimidated. Chris's voice chastised, "Or scare her shitless, Raiford Gautier."

  After skipping one weekend, Raif showed up at Neely's place for his regular Friday rendezvous. Once again, Raif refused to let Neely open for business on Saturday. He took her out for a champagne breakfast; to have her nails, hair, and make-up done; and lollygagged for most of the day.

  A couple of hours before the show was to open, they dressed for the occasion, Raif in a black tux and Neely in the lavender evening dress with coordinating sling heels and a string of pearls with matching earrings.

  Raif brushed a few stray wisps of Neely's hair from her face. "You are so beautiful," he said lustfully.

  "I am so scared," she responded honestly.

  Ignoring a ghostly warning, Raif decided not to tell her his entire family would be in attendance for fear of making her more anxious. They arrived half an hour before show time. Pierre bustled around making sure the hors d'oeuvres and drinks were set. When the honoree arrived, Pierre kissed her cheek and said, "Raif, if you don't want this woman, I'll go straight."

  "Back off, Pierre," said Raif with a grin.

  The first patrons arrived at six, and by a quarter after six, the place teemed with people. Neely clung nervously to Raif's arm. She recognized many famous faces in the crowd—local media, several political figures, and some celebrities. Neely tightened her grip on Raif's arm as a medium-height, milk-chocolate-skinned man headed their way.

  She whispered, "Raif, is that Dupree Parks coming over here? He's a famous R & B singer."

  Raif laughed as he realized he had never explained Dupree was his son-in-law. Dupree hugged Raif and said, "Dad, you look great."

  Dad? Neely's eyes widened as Lindsay joined her husband. Raif said, "Neely, I'd like you to meet Dupree and Lindsay Parks, my daughter and son-in-law. Dupree, Lindsay, this is my Neely."

  Neely's heart skipped a beat as she tried to focus on the people she had just met rather than the fact Raif considered her his. She did not even notice the society-news photographer snap her and Dupree shaking hands and him leaning in to kiss her cheek.

  Patrick came over and greeted Neely in a friendly manner. She started to ask him about the girl that he had brought to Amile's when Trista barged in.

  Raif arched an eyebrow and Patrick rolled his eyes when the girl said, "I'm Trista," without so much as offering a handshake. "And you're Dad's reason for leaving me alone all the time."

  "Um…" Neely began. But Trista just shook her head and joined her cousin, Courtney Reynolds, to make a plate of food.

  "That went well," Raif muttered.

  "I don't think your daughter likes me," Neely whispered.

  Raif took her hand and kissed it. "I don't care what Trista likes or doesn't like. She's a child who has forced herself to become an adult."

  The voice that haunted him growled, "Of course you care."

  Well, yes, but she's pushing my buttons lately.

  By evening's end, Neely had met every member of Raif's family except Townes, who was still at sea, and Larkin, who had tried to stay out of the limelight as a famous author.

  Ray viewed every painting, but stopped dead in his tracks at "The Serpent."

  "Jesus," he said under his breath as Larkin stopped beside him.

  "What is it?" she whispered.

  "It looks like the tattoo Robert had." He shivered as the temperature around the painting seemed to plummet. "Angel, Neely told Raif this looked like the tattoo one of her attackers had. What if?"

  "Kyle?"

  "We haven't seen them since Deanna and Saul married. The blue eyes and the tattoo."

  "Surely not. They live in Baton Rouge, not New Orleans. And he could not have gotten a legitimate tattoo at his age. Let it go for the evening. We still haven't greeted the honoree."

  Finally, Ray and Larkin approached and the flashbulbs started the strobe effect. Ray hugged Neely.

  "Hello, Ray," she said sweetly. "It's been a long time, but you haven't changed a bit."

  "You've gotten more beautiful," responded Ray.

  Neely turned to Larkin. Why this one woman's approval meant so much to her she did not know. "So, you're Ray's guardian angel," she said with apprehension.

  Against the glare of a flashbulb, Larkin took Neely's hand and kissed her cheek. "Hello, Neely. It's good to finally meet you. Your paintings are outstanding."

  "Thank you," Neely breathed with relief.

  As the patrons trickled out, Colleen and Amile said good-bye to the young woman they cherished. Pierre danced up, his face aglow. He proclaimed, "My girl! You are a smash! Twelve of your paintings sold tonight."

  "Thirteen," corrected Raif. "You didn't sell my painting, did you?"

  "No, of course not, although it was in high demand."

  "Raif," said Neely, "you don't have to buy a painting. Anything you want is yours."

  Raif sighed at the thought of what he wanted.

  Arriving back at Neely's place, she sprang from the car and shrieked, "Raif! Something's wrong! Colleen's door is open!"

  "Inside, now!" commanded Raif. "Go inside, Neely," he repeated as she hesitated. "Call 9-1-1 and get your gun."

  Neely did as Raif requested, and Raif reached into his glove box and got the .38 Ray had given him. He had not held the gun since the first few weeks after he'd received it and he'd gone to the firing range with his brother to learn to shoot. It had lain in the glove box since then, although he had a lifetime license to carry.

  Raif carefully entered Voodoo You Do. "Colleen!" he called.

  It was apparent the door had been kicked in and the cash register forced open. Raif heard moaning. He found Colleen just as the authorities arrived. The ambulance rushed the elderly woman to Tulane University Hospital.

  Neely was beside herself as Raif sat with her in the waiting room. Finally, the doctor came out and asked, "Where is Miss DuPin's family?"

  "I'm the closest thing she has," said Neely.

  "Are you Neely?"

  "
Yes."

  "She said you were her granddaughter," said the doctor with a twinkle in his eye. He chuckled slightly at the old woman's tenacity. "Your grandmother will recover. Her arm is broken, but she is one tough cookie. That aside, she's too old to be attacked by hoodlums. I've given her a sedative. She'll sleep all night. She told me to tell you to go home."

  Raif took Neely home. They sat quietly on the sofa for a while before Raif said, "Neely, I want you to sell this place and come to Eau Boueuse. It's too dangerous for you here. I'll take care of you."

  "Where will I live?"

  "With me."

  "And be a kept woman?" Neely shook her head intensely. "I don't think so."

  "You can live in the guest cottage if you feel that strongly. I just can't lose you, Neely. It would kill me."

  "Why, Raif? Why would it kill you? Because you enjoy spoiling me? Or because you want and need a friend to spend time with? You have to love someone to feel that strongly. You don't love me, so why would it kill you?" Are you crazy, girl? You know he loves you. You might just have sent him packing.

  Raif held Neely by the shoulders and put her at arms' length from him. He was surprised by the vehemence in her voice. The look in her eyes defied him to deny his feelings another second. He groaned, "Oh, my God! But I do. I love you so much it hurts." He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. He scooped her into his arms and took her to bed. There was no denial. Their actions did not speak louder than words—they screamed, "I love you!"

  13

  I Do

  OnMonday, Raif moved Neely into the small one-bedroom guest cottage situated on his property. Trista asked pointblank, "Dad, what's going on?"

  "I want her here, Trista. Where she lives in New Orleans is just too dangerous."

  "Dad, are you in love with this woman?"

  "This woman's name is Neely, and, yes, Trista, I am."

  "Have you forgotten Mom so easily?"

  Raif turned an incredulous gaze to his daughter. "What did you say? I will NEVER forget your mother. But truth is truth. The truth is I'm still alive. I don't want to grow old alone."

  "You're not alone, Dad. You have us."

  "Please, Trista." He rubbed his forehead as if getting one of Ray's migraines. "You're a married woman now. You know damned well it's not the same."

  "Dad, are you sleeping with her?"

  "That would be none of your business."

  Patrick, home on a break, came in from the other room. "Trista, leave Dad alone. Let's go upstairs and talk."

  "Fine!" Trista huffed on her way up the stairs back to her room and mumbled, "Hypocrite!"

  "What did you say?" asked Raif.

  "Never mind, Dad," she said insolently and went her own way.

  Raif shook his head with his mouth agape. He was bewildered. Patrick consoled, "Let her go, Dad. She still has to grow up. She'll come around, but when's the wedding?"

  "When I decide I'm ready to say, 'I do,' again. Patrick, I will never forget Chris. How could Trista even think that?" His blue eyes misted.

  With a hand on his father's shoulder, the son sounded more like the parent. "She doesn't really. She's a tad jealous of the attention you've been giving Neely. Don't let it worry you. You deserve to be happy, and I like Neely. So does Lindsay. Two outa three ain't bad."

  "Don't say that." He shivered. "I want three out of three. Every time I try to talk to her"—He pointed toward the stairs—"she does that."

  "You'll have it eventually. Just be patient. I love you, Dad. I'll work on my baby sister."

  "Thanks."

  Patrick took the stairs two at a time to get to his sister's room. He knocked.

  "Go away!" Trista shouted.

  "Nope, I'm coming in, Bratikin."

  She snorted a little laugh that her brother still called her that after all this time. "Come on."

  Patrick came in and caught Trista hugging her teddy bear. He felt a twinge of guilt over his own secret, but sat on the bed. "Let's talk. Listen. I know you're still hurting because of Mom, but if you'll give Neely a chance, you'll really like her. You were so rude at the gala. Stop before you push Dad over the edge."

  "Patch," she said, using her pet name for her brother, "Dad is being a hypocrite. And then acting like I'm a bad person."

  "No, he's not. Trista, you are still very much a child." He pointed at the teddy bear. "See. Maybe you're having a baby, but you still have a long way to go to be grown."

  "And you don't?"

  "I didn't say that. I have my own issues. I just choose to keep it to myself. I love you, Bratikin, but you've got to stop being such a brat."

  "Out!" she said pointing hard toward her door.

  Patrick sighed, but left his sister to herself.

  "Trista, Trista, Trista."

  The girl looked around, but no one was in the room with her. "You're not real. Go away and leave me alone. If you'd really loved me, you wouldn't have left me."

  "Not my choice, darling."

  "If you'd loved me, you'd at least have said my name that day while you were looking at me. But no. It was all about Dad. Now, look. He's forgotten you. So, get out of my head and leave me alone."

  Trista waited for another word. Silence met her. "Mommy? I'm sorry. Come back." She collapsed in a fit of tears, her face buried in the tattered toy she held.

  Patrick leaned against the door, hearing his sister talk to someone. Maybe I'm not the only crazy person in this family.

  Parker Reynolds had postponed his trip to the Czech Republic. He prepared to leave, and Sheena was not happy. Nonetheless, she drove her husband to the New Orleans airport.

  With all the strict regulations, Sheena could not go beyond the lobby. Parker kissed her deeply and said, "I'll be back in a few days. I love you." He squatted and kissed Sheena's abdomen and commanded, "You wait for me."

  Parker, with only one bag and one carry on, headed for the turnstile, and Sheena screamed, "Parker!"

  He whipped around at the shrillness of her cry. Sheena looked mortified. Parker rushed back to his wife, and she whimpered, "Somebody didn't obey."

  Parker realized Sheena's water had broken and cracked up laughing. "It's all right, darling. Obviously, I'm not supposed to leave you right now. Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?"

  "I don't know. I'm having another contraction."

  "Okay. I've got you." Parker lifted Sheena into his arms and carried her with his luggage hanging either off his shoulder or in his hand beneath Sheena to the car where he said, "Next question—home or nearest hospital?"

  "Nearest hospital—NOW!" She screamed.

  He reached under the seat, placed a flashing blue light in the dash, and hit the siren. Then, he hit one button on the steering column. A sultry female voice responded, "Whom would you like to call, Detective Reynolds?"

  "Daddy," Parker responded to the voice-activated calling system.

  Ray answered, "Parker, what's wrong this time?"

  "I'm afraid I missed my flight. We're on our way to Ochsner's. Sheena is definitely in labor. Her water broke at the airport."

  "Well, this is your first child. It'll probably be a while, but I'll get everybody on the horn, and we'll be there as soon as we can."

  Sheena let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Ray said, "You had better move if she's screaming like that this soon."

  "I'll call," said Parker.

  At the hospital, Parker carried Sheena into the ER. "We're having a baby here," he announced loudly.

  "When did she start labor?" asked the admitting nurse.

  "About half an hour, but she hasn't stopped screaming."

  "Probably just doesn't handle pain well. Let's get her checked out."

  "I handle pain just fine, thank you!" Sheena snapped. "This baby is coming."

  "Let's see what's happening," said a young intern who walked up. He seemed to be in no real hurry as he escorted the couple to an exam room.

  Upon examining Sheena, the young man shouted, "Holy sh
it! Forget the delivery room! Push!"

  Ten minutes later, Parker held his son a moment before he handed the baby to his mother.

  He kissed Sheena on the head. "We need a name," he said. "We never decided."

  "Ashton—like we discussed," said Sheena. "My dad's middle name is Ashton, Terrance Ashton Johnson. This is Ashton Raiford Reynolds."

  "I need to call Daddy."

  "Go ahead," said Sheena. "It'll be a few minutes before they get us a room." She let out an exhausted sigh.

  Parker went to his car and called Ray.

  "Hey," answered Ray. "We're on our way."

  "Well, do you want an update?"

  "I do."

  "Drive the speed limit. When he was ready, he was ready. Ashton Raiford Reynolds wasted no time getting here."

  Raif made the trek to New Orleans to meet his new grandnephew. Trista went with him, and he convinced Neely it was perfectly appropriate for her to go, too. Trista sulked throughout the drive; and when she was not sulking, she went out of her way to be rude. The first thing she said was, "I'm surprised by you, Neely."

  "How so?" Neely asked.

  "Well, seeing as how you're the Bohemian type and own a tattoo business, I would've expected tattoos everywhere and piercings all over your body. I would've expected at least a tongue ring. I hear they give soooo much pleasure."

  "Trista!" Raif rebuked his daughter. "That will be quite enough."

  "What did I do?" She held her hands out to the side. "I was just surprised by her appearance. Come on, Dad. We're all adults here. We can discuss sex."

  Through clenched teeth Raif said, "Trista, please, shut up."

  "You're acting like an old fuddy-duddy." Trista waved her hand to show she had no intention of listening to her father. "Neely, do you have any piercings besides your ears? Let me ask Dad. Dad, does she maybe have nipple rings?"

  "Trista! I swear to God!" Raif was becoming angry, yet he did not raise his voice. On the contrary, he lowered it.

  Neely touched Raif's arm and gently shook her head before she responded. "No, Trista, I only have one hole in each ear. It appears you have three. Do you have any piercings anywhere else?"