Deception Page 32

  His warm palm caressed my cheek. “I don’t want to ever lose you.”

  “Then hold on tight. I’m not going anywhere.”

  IT HAD BEEN nearly a week since Nox’s confession and neither of us had brought it up again. We didn’t need to. I was more than satisfied with his honesty and had no desire to hear or see again the pain I’d witnessed that night. Instead, I wanted to see the light blue of his gaze, the menacing gleam, and the grin that told me he was up to something. I wanted to wake in his arms and fall asleep listening to him breathe.

  I adored the way he always found me the first thing after entering the apartment. It didn’t matter where I was—my office studying, the kitchen getting Lana’s meal ready, or even soaking in a tub after a long day. It was as if I wore a tracker. Well, I did, but he didn’t use his phone. He followed his heart and his need to confirm that I was present and safe, just as I’d promised.

  When Nox found me, the first words from his lips were always, How was your day? Though they didn’t vary, I never felt that they were said with anything less than genuine interest. Of all the things he did and said, it was close to my favorite.

  There was this thing that he did when my hands were bound that topped the list, but I couldn’t think about that too much or I wouldn’t accomplish anything else.

  I had just finished my lunch on campus when I saw the text. I didn’t recognize the number, but I didn’t need to. She told me who she was.

  Unknown number:

  “ALEX, IT’S CHELSEA. I KNOW YOU PROBABLY HATE ME AND I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO CALL YOU. DOES TEXTING COUNT? I THINK IT DOES. I THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT YOUR MOM IS SICK. SHE’S GETTING WORSE AND NOW THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT PUTTING HER IN A HOSPITAL. EVEN THOUGH I DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY IT, I THINK YOU SHOULD BE HERE.

  PLEASE DON’T TELL ANYONE, ESPECIALLY BRYCE, THAT I CONTACTED YOU.

  I’M DELETING THIS TEXT FROM MY PHONE AS SOON AS I SEND.

  I AM SORRY. PLEASE DON’T CALL ME BACK.”

  I STARED IN disbelief at the screen of my phone. I may have doubted that Chelsea had really been the one to send the text had it not been for the one line: does texting count? That was definitely Chelsea, the one to find the loophole in every agreement.

  I couldn’t think about why she knew what was happening at Montague Manor and I didn’t, or why she wasn’t supposed to contact me, or a million other concerns. I needed to concentrate on the most important one.

  My mother.

  I picked up what remained of my lunch and threw it in a trash bin as I looked around the cafe. Clayton was sitting at a table near a window, looking at both his iPad and occasionally my direction. Having him tag along seemed extreme, but since I knew Nox’s reasoning, I didn’t argue.

  Bryce had said my mother was sick once and it wasn’t true. I held onto that hope as I scrolled my contacts and called the one person who would tell me what was really happening.

  Jane answered on the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  Didn’t my name come up?

  I immediately stood taller, my nerves on alert.

  “Jane, it’s Alex.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  I lowered my voice. “You can’t talk right now?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can you just tell me how Momma is?”

  “So sad,” she said. “I wish with all my heart it was different.”

  Tears filled my eyes as the world lost focus. “Do I need to be there?”

  “I can’t say. But it’d be the answer to my prayers. Bye, now. I needs to go.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Though I asked my question, Jane didn’t hear. The line had gone dead.

  My stomach dropped to the ground as a million questions ran through my mind, all vying for voice. What was wrong with my mother? Why couldn’t Jane speak to me? Why wasn’t anyone telling me what was happening? How long had it been going on?

  My hands trembled as I found a chair, sat, and called Nox’s phone. It was rare for me to bother him during the day. I’d probably only done it less than a half dozen times. He respected my school and my time, and I respected his.

  After four rings, his cell phone went to voicemail and my head fell forward, my chin to my chest as I waited to leave a message.

  “Nox.” I whispered his name, “I’m sorry to bother you.” With each phrase, emotion rained over me. What started as a gentle shower quickly became a torrent, drowning me in a rapid river of regret.

  Why hadn’t I called her? Why hadn’t I gone to see her when she couldn’t come to me?

  “I-it’s my mother. I don’t know what’s happened.” My voice cracked, leaving space for the tears that now cascaded down my cheeks. “She’s sick.” I gulped air, my chest suddenly tight. “Very sick. I need to get to Savannah.”

  I didn’t ask. I told him what I needed to do. There was no doubt that I was going.

  I disconnected the call and called Deloris. Thankfully, she answered right away.

  “Alex. What can I do for you?”

  I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and licked my salty lips. My mouth was suddenly dry as I worked to keep the tears silent. “I need to get to Savannah.”

  “What?” she asked.

  I stood, and with the phone to my ear, I paced small circles in the cafe. “My mother’s ill. I just found out. I don’t know any details, but I know I need to get there. Something’s wrong, terribly wrong.”

  “Clayton and I’ll go with you,” Deloris volunteered.

  I nodded. “Thank you. I called Nox, but he didn’t answer.” One hand went to my necklace. “I’m not running as I did when Chelsea was hurt, but I need to go now.”

  “Tell Clayton to take you to the airport. I’ll have a plane ready. Lennox will surely want to come when he finds out.”

  My chest ached as my regrets grew. “Deloris, I’ve said some things to my mother over the years… but I love her.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I-I’m not sure if Alton… I don’t know about staying at the manor. If Nox…” I’d never had a man stay with me in Savannah. I’d never had one who I wanted to have stay with me. All I knew was that if my mother was ill, the choice would be up to Alton, and I doubted he’d be as accommodating as Oren had been in Westchester County.

  “I’ll book a suite for the two of you in Savannah. Unless you want to stay at your home.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. “A suite would be wonderful. No, I don’t want to stay there. My home is here in New York. That’s just a house.” A house of horrors was what Patrick called it. “A suite would be perfect.”

  “Alex, go tell Clayton. Let me get everything else settled.”

  “Thank you,” I said with relief as I turned, my eyes meeting Clayton’s.

  We met halfway across the cafe. No doubt he could see my wordless plea. “Ma’am?”

  “I just spoke to Deloris. I need to get to Savannah. She said to have you take me to the airport.” I shook my head. “But she didn’t say which one.”

  “I’m sure she meant the private hangars, but I’ll call and check. Give me five minutes, and I’ll have the car out front on 116th Street.”

  I nodded and waved him away as my phone vibrated.

  NOX - PRIVATE NUMBER

  “Nox,” I answered.

  “Princess, wait for me. I can leave in a couple of hours.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “It’s over a two-hour flight. Deloris is getting it set up,” I explained, more composed than I’d been only minutes earlier. “I don’t want to wait any longer than necessary. I don’t know what’s happening. The way Jane sounded, it’s not good.”

  “I don’t want you walking in there alone.”

  I reached for my necklace. “I’m not alone. You’re always with me.”

  “Charli.”

  I closed my eyes. “I have to do this for my momma.” I choked on the word. “Please unders
tand. Deloris will be there, and she said she’d get us a suite in Savannah. I won’t stay at the manor. Hopefully, I can find out where my mother is, and I won’t even need to go to the manor.”

  “Princess,” he implored, “a couple of hours.”

  “I love you, Nox. I’ll be safe. I promise, and I’ll see you tonight. Text me as soon as you land in Savannah.”

  “You text me. Let me know what’s happening. No matter what, Charli, I’m there for you.”

  I nodded. “I know. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Clayton had been right about the private hangar. Lennox didn’t own his own plane, but Demetri Enterprises had some kind of leasing contract to ensure that one was always available, whether for him, Oren, or any other high-ranking member of their company.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” I asked Deloris. “I mean this is a business contract. This isn’t business.”

  She patted my hand as the plane taxied on the runway and we waited for our turn to take off. “Yes, it’s fine. You have an in with one of the CEO’s. He said you could.”

  My cheeks rose. “Thank you for helping me. I’m scared.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Nothing.”

  “How’d you learn about this?”

  “Chelsea,” I replied, not thinking about anything but what could be happening in Savannah.

  “Chelsea?”

  Deloris’s reaction reminded me of Chelsea’s plea for anonymity. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone it was her.”

  “She called you?”

  “Text,” I said as I found my phone in my purse and swiped the screen. Seconds later I handed it to her. “See. She doesn’t want anyone to know. I don’t understand why I wasn’t called before now if my mother’s so ill.”

  After reading the text, Deloris turned on her iPad. “Chelsea said some hospital. Let me do a search of hospitals in the area and see what I can find.”

  I nodded as I laid my head back against the leather seat and the small plane ascended. Over the next two hours, Deloris searched the patient records of all of the major hospitals and came up empty. Nothing. No Adelaide Fitzgerald was registered anywhere.

  “Alex,” she asked as we neared Savannah, “have you heard of Mongolia Woods?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a private facility west of Savannah that specializes in rehab for alcohol and drug addiction.”

  “What? Are you serious? My mother is going to dry out?”

  “Does she drink?”

  “Yes, but not… well, it’s never been a problem.”

  She turned the screen of her iPad toward me. The old Southern estate looked similar to Montague Manor with giant oak trees draped with Spanish moss along a driveway. She swiped the screen and the next picture was of a lovely old home, large, but not as large as the manor.

  “That’s where she is?” I asked. “So she’s not dying. It’s not cancer or something?”

  Deloris nodded. “That’s where she is. She was admitted a few hours ago. But her records aren’t fully updated. I don’t know exactly why she’s there. I’d venture to guess that it’s not a life-threatening diagnosis; however, alcohol and drug abuse can lead to death.”

  “She’s always drank, but I’ve never known anyone who could handle it better than her. But drugs? My mother would never take drugs.” I handed Deloris back her iPad. “How do you do that? Is it public record?”

  “No. I have ways. The thing is, this place is fully subsidized through private funds. What little information that I can gather, your mother has a strict no-visitor status for the first forty-eight hours.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “I’m her daughter. They’ll let me see her.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  MY FINGERS DRUMMED on the inside of the window of the large black SUV that Deloris had secured for our use in Savannah. Clayton sat at the steering wheel while I sat alone in the backseat. It had been over fifteen minutes since Deloris had disappeared into the front entrance of Mongolia Woods. I’d wanted to go with her, to plead my own case, but she thought she would have better success on my behalf.

  Click, click, my nails tapped on the glass as time stood still and I impatiently waited.

  Beyond the windows, the Georgia sun reminded me that warm weather still existed in late October, even if New York had surrendered to the impending winter.

  I pushed my sunglasses onto my head as my purse vibrated in my lap.

  NOX - PRIVATE NUMBER

  I sighed, wishing he were beside me instead of back in the frigid North.

  Nox: “ANY WORD”?

  Me: “NOT YET. DELORIS IS STILL INSIDE.”

  Nox: “I’M LEAVING IN A FEW MINUTES. THE BATPLANE IS FUELED AND READY. I’LL BE THERE IN STEALTH SPEED.”

  Me: “BRING YOUR CAPE. I THINK I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THAT BY NOW.”

  Nox: “SEE YOU SOON.”

  Me: “LOVE YOU.”

  Nox: “MORE.”

  I took a deep breath, realizing that for the first time since Chelsea’s text, I was actually smiling. My brief reprieve quickly dimmed at the sound of Clayton’s words.

  “Ma’am, Mrs. Witt is coming.”

  I lifted my eyes from my phone toward the facility. Deloris was descending the large concrete steps. Her lips pursed tight as she navigated the unfamiliar terrain. She looked our way. There was nothing encouraging in her expression.

  A moment later she was in the backseat beside me, speaking. Her tone was placating and calm. “I learned that she is stable, but they won’t allow anyone to see her.”

  Disappointment gutted me as hope faded away. “No. Let me go in. Let me talk to them. She’s my mother!”

  “Alex, they know who you are. The problem…”

  Deloris’s words dimmed as rage bubbled from my toes, engulfing my entire body with scorching heat. I knew the problem. I saw the problem. Alton Fitzgerald was the problem.

  My mother’s husband buttoned his suit coat as he exited the same door that Deloris had just used.

  Without thinking, I opened the door of the SUV.

  “Alex…”

  I didn’t hear Deloris’s warning or Clayton’s door open as blood coursed noisily through my ears. Adjusting my sunglasses, I stepped quickly toward my stepfather.

  “Let me see my mother.”

  SIGNATURE CRIMSON FLOWED upward from the starched white collar of his shirt as Alton Fitzgerald stopped midstep and turned my direction. “It appears as though the prodigal daughter has returned.”

  I didn’t stop walking until I was right before him. “I want to see her.”

  “You’ll have to understand that I have no intentions of slaying a fatted calf on this occasion simply because you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  He looked over my shoulder toward the SUV as a limousine pulled past it and up to the edge of the walkway.

  I turned back to see both Clayton and Deloris standing beside the SUV looking as though they were both ready to run in my direction.

  “Come home and we’ll discuss this. Alone,” he emphasized the last word.

  “Discuss it now. I don’t want to go back to the manor. I want to see my mother.”

  Alton’s tone lowered. “You see, Alexandria, that’s the problem. For too long you’ve been coddled. Your days of getting what you want are over. It’s time you acquiesced to your future, the same way Laide did.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you don’t. You’ve been too wrapped up in your own frivolities to worry about what’s important. Perhaps if you hadn’t been off in New York, you would have been able to help your mother. Now her fate is in my hands.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  I cringed as he reached toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. My stomach turned as he inclined his face closer to mine and his warm, putrid breath filled my n
ose.

  “Turn around, Alexandria.”

  I did, not because I wanted to obey him, but because I needed to breathe fresh air. Brantley was standing near the open door to the limousine.

  Alton spoke near my ear, his hand still holding my shoulder. “If you want to see your mother, or if she has a chance of ever being released from this facility, you will get in that car and do as you’re told.”

  I looked back toward Deloris and Clayton.

  “Alexandria, I won’t ask again.”

  My eyes closed, blocking out the afternoon sun as I clenched my teeth and shook his hand away. With a deep breath, I took one step and then another. As I walked the plank to my own death, I said goodbye to Charli.

  Alexandria nodded to Brantley and climbed into the backseat of the limousine.

  Before the door was shut, encasing us in the cool, dim interior, my phone vibrated with an incoming call.

  “Give me your purse,” Alton said with his hand extended.

  I lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head and stared. “What? No.”

  Tears prickled my eyes and I turned quickly as my face stung from the slap of his palm against my cheek.

  What the hell?

  I sent daggers flying from my eyes as I blinked away the moisture.

  “Your mother is no longer a factor. Listen to me the first time and I won’t need to be sure of your attention.” Alton extended his hand again. “I don’t repeat myself.”

  When I didn’t move, he reached for my purse, his glare daring me to stop him.

  Stupid! Why did I get into this car?

  With the scenery moving beyond the tinted windows and the limousine in motion, I sat statuesque trying to contemplate my next move.

  Alton removed my phone and gave me back my purse.

  I held my tongue, as I’d been taught to do, as he turned off its power and placed it in his pocket. Though my thoughts were filled with too many things to register, Chelsea’s text message came to mind. I hadn’t erased it. If Alton turned on the phone, he’d see it.

  “Alton,” I tried for my most respectful tone. “Please tell me about my mother.”