20. Ryanne “Shorty” Larwick

20

RYANNE "SHORTY" LARWICK

The guards rolled Paul in his wheelchair into the room and locked the wheels. Though the guard wanted to stay, Khardi talked him out of it. He promised to wait outside the room while we finish this last bit of business with him.

Though nervous, I was able to swallow that.

Khadri was by my side and for the first time in my life, I had someone who truly had my back, no matter how angry he'd been at me.

No matter that he'd told me he didn't trust me.

Those words coming from him broke me—but that was the kind of thing I'd kept to myself. We hadn't address that since that moment in Jamaica.

Deep down, I knew I couldn't keep running from that talk.

Still, there he was, standing not far from me, arms folded across his chest, watching Paul intently.

There he was, standing tall and strong, on alert, waiting for Paul to do something—try anything.

When Paul saw me, he tried to scream for the guard but when he became hoarse, he realized he would have to deal with me whether he wanted to or not.

"I don't want to be here any more than you want me here." I told him. "But my father insisted and since you've taken away all the other things I could do for my father, you're going to sit your ass there and listen."

He said nothing.

I showed him the letter so he could see it was sealed and hadn't been tampered with.

When I ripped into the envelop and unfolded the letter, a photograph fell out. It was a photo of my parents together—my mom in a simple white dress and my father in a suit, no tie. My heart soared—I never had a picture of them together.

My mother stared at my father with the kind of love I was always jealous of people for. Her eyes bright, the smile on her lips threatening to swallow her entire world.

My father held her like she belonged to him—that everything he had and would ever be belonged to her.

I smiled but set the photo on the table before lifting my eyes to the letter.

" Paul ." I cleared my throat. " If you're hearing this letter, that means I was right and it was you all along. While I can't understand why you would want to ruin the one happiness I've found, I can't say I'm very surprised. Our little Rya is grown up now—does she look like her mother? I know she is as beautiful as Anne and it's probably the worse thing for you. Having her walking around, a living, breathing replica of the love you tried destroying. You were in love with a woman who didn't pick you. And instead of being gracious and respect her wishes, you tried to destroy her. I suppose if you're hearing this letter from Rya's lips, you've succeeded.

I draw great happiness in knowing you won't ever get your hands on my wife. She's the very moon that lights my night sky and the very sun that controls my day. You will never understand what it's like to be loved completely and without selfishness and for that, I feel sorry for you."

"Stop!" Paul buried his face into his hands.

I didn't feel bad for him.

"She loved me, Paul. She loved me in ways you can't even begin to comprehend. But here's what I wanted to say—over the years, your little tricks forced me to give up my parents. To lie to those I loved the most to protect the woman who loves me the most. Our daughter is grown now. And I hope you see in her the traces of Anne that made her such an angel. I hope every time you look at her, you'll see the life you took away. Just know, nothing that belonged to Anne will ever belong to you. I'm hoping our daughter has found a good spouse, someone who loves her and will be the wind at her back to protect her from you. And if that's not the case, the wealth I've left her will help her hire the best.

You lost, Paul.

You lost—and it didn't have to be this way. All you had to do was be upfront and honest.

All you had to do, was respect Anne's wishes.

But you are such a base human being, you couldn't even do that.

Ryanne, your mother and I loved you since before you were a thought. We cherished whatever time we've had with you. Know that we didn't leave you because we wanted to.

And we love you more than there are stars in the sky.

Love, Mom and Dad.

At the end of the letter, I folded it back to the creases my father had and extended it to Paul. He shrugged back as if I'd burned him but I didn't care.

Leaning forward, I thrusted it at him again.

Still, he didn't want anything to do with it.

This time, I set it on the desk in front of him and stood. Reaching back for Khadri's hand, he called the guard to take Paul while another escorted us from the room.

Paul was sobbing when they wheeled him away.

I guess he was realizing his attitude toward the entire situation had cost him everything.

Not only did my mother not chose him, he'd lost all his money and wealthy and as of that morning, the reporters were still clamouring to find out more information about what he'd done.

As I lifted my chin and walked proudly out beside Khadri, I gave myself one more moment to think about Paul and his greed.

By the time we stepped through the different gates, listening to them clang shut behind us, I'd resolved myself to only think of Paul in moments of weakness. I was determined to fill those other moments with thoughts of my parents—a man and woman who barely had time with me but loved me still.

A man who'd given up everything to protect me and my mother—a man who was a real man and was murdered because of it.

I would think of them happily together and try to cut out a slice of happiness for myself.

Looking up at Khadri, I stooped him before he could open the truck's door for me.

I eased his large body against his truck and kissed him before hugging him tightly. I buried my head under his chin, rested my cheek against his chest and folded my arms against his chest. When he wrapped his arms around me, I sighed.

This hug was to confirm something—to confirm the way I felt when his arms consumed me.

"You know something, Khadri Weston?"

"What's that, Ryanne Larwick?"

"There's going to be a day when you tell me you love me," I said. "And when that day comes, I'll be ready. But I know, I have to regain that trust with you and I'm going to."

"I see."

"Then one day, when I least expect it, you're going to ask me to be your wife."

Khadri lifted my chin so he could look down into my face.

"My wife?"

I smiled warmly and nodded, squinting up at him.

"But I'm not going to wait forever." I advised him. "If I find you're taking too long I'm not beyond going out, buying the ring I want and asking you. So—I'm just prewarning you."

He laughed.

"Ryanne, don't try to steal my thunder."

"I won't have to if you do things in a timely manner." I pouted. "What I'm trying to say is, one day, you're going to do the right thing in making an honest woman out of me. And on that day, I'll have my shit together and will be ready to stand at your side—the woman you deserve."

"Baby, the question you should be asking is if I deserve you."

Standing back, I eased up to kiss him.

"You do." I replied. "Now—from what I read in the will, I start getting an allowance until I turn thirty. There are many years of backpay involved. What do you say, we check on the Musk construction, then you take me back to Jamaica so I can visit Nana and Pop. After we spend a little time with them?—"

I pushed to my tiptoes and nipped at his ear.

"You can take me back to a private place where I can wear what's in that neon pink bag for you."

Khadri trembled.

"Oh—and that other bikini I didn't get a chance to wear for you before."

Khadri stuck his tongue out the right side of his mouth, his eyes turning into a passionate storm that I knew would drown me.

He moaned.

For further incentive, I turned my back to him and leaned on him, ensuring my ass crushed in on his cock.

"Woman—remember what I said about the newspaper?"

"We tempted fate once, Khadri?—"