It doesn’t take me long to locate the long corridor with several doors on each side. I walk to the second one and crack the door to find it buzzing with people sloshed to the hilt. I catch a glimpse of Jacques, grinding a woman into the wall as she giggles in drunken bliss. Other patrons are dancing, conversing, and laughing without conscience. It’s the Moreau’s private party.
I close the door and move a few rooms down, finding one unoccupied and slip inside. I don’t bother with the lights. I plant my back against the wall and scorn myself for being so damn weak. I’ve never been so affected since leaving Jersey. I was formidable and unwavering. Resolved. A force to be reckoned with. I recall the promise I made to myself on the train ride down to North Carolina. I’d never love a man so freely. Is that what I’ve done? My yielding of my heart has somehow weakened me. It’s caused me to doubt every move I make and each motive he exerts. Loving this man makes me crazy…insecure.
I take a long gulp of the amber liquid, no longer feeling the shooting burn down my chest, into my belly. I’m numb, reminding me of my existence before Azmir entered my world. He does things to me…makes me open my eyes to things around me that I once avoided with my trained tunnel vision. There was little beauty before him. Damn it if he doesn’t make me feel.
But why? For what? Could I trust his efforts? His guidance?
I’ve turned into a wimpy, whiney punk—on sensory overload since he’s entered my world. I don’t know what’s held his interest in me. I ponder this as I lift my left hand to observe the ring. His promise of forever.
My chest rises and I release a hefty breath, loosening my embattled spirit. I need to regain that determined and resolute essence that I used to survive since leaving home. In this moment, I’m confident that it’s just that—that draws Azmir to me. Or is it? It has to be. Azmir adds to me. He pours into me. He makes me feel so damn sexy. Superior. Extremely feminine. Powerful.
No more doubting, Rayna. That’s been the game plan since waking up to this ring after learning about the paternity of Tara’s baby. We conquered that. Nothing else should matter.
As my brain whirs, I hear the door open and a shriek of light enters the room as someone paces inside. It doesn’t take long for me to recognize Dawn’s thin frame and perfect bouncy curls, pulling out her phone.
“Shay?” she murmurs. “Yeah…I’ve been looking all over. I’m outside right now…I just circled the building and I’ll do it once again before coming back inside. Tell Azmir that we’ll find her.” I can hear Shayna’s frantic voice on the other end of the call in the quieted room. I wonder if Shayna knows how much of a pathological a liar her partner is. It shouldn’t come as a surprise; Dawn’s eyes alone give her away. In a more conspiratorial tone, Dawn hisses, “I hope we’re not turning over this place looking for the girl, only to learn they got into a lover’s quarrel and she left. I have better ways to earn my money.”
That’s it! I can’t stand the bitch!
“Yeah…okay….okay,” Dawn forfeits in will, apparently in an attempt to placate Shayna. “Keep me posted and I’ll do the same.”
She ends the call and lets out an audible exasperated breath.
The liquor is beyond abundance in my belly and bloodstream at this point. My one hand is gripping the tumbler so hard it may crack in my palm at any moment, while my other is balled into a fist at my side. I’m battling the decision of walking over to Dawn and bashing her head into the wall or simply firing off a solid warning.
She’ already won this evening. I caved. At her manipulative efforts, I got frustrated and let her keep Azmir away from me at his party, all evening—and I let her, all because I didn’t want to give her the pleasure of knowing how much she’s affected me. Threatened us. There’s no way I can harm her without drawing negative attention to Azmir’s well-deserved celebration. So, I decide to plead with her.
“Must be exhausting,” I mutter. Even I can hear the slur in my words.
Dawn jumps and, on instinct, goes for the light switch. Ducking behind my hand, I grunt at the bright light against my sensitive pupils.
When she recognizes me, standing with my back up against the wall—literally and figuratively—she sucks her teeth and snorts. Her frazzled stance recoils into a confident posture.
“Very grown up of you, Rayna, honey,”
I chuckle as I roll my eyes. “Honey?” I ask rhetorically. Dawn tilts her head to the side, inviting me to continue. “See, that’s your problem, Dawn.” My tone is soft, misgiving. “You don’t respect what this woman has built.”