Chapter 37
Nadine:
Clayton's phone started to buzz almost immediately, not allowing me to quiz him more about the truth of Naomi's death. If Trent had really done it, I was going to set him on fire. I sat up as Clayton picked up the call and spoke into the receiver.
"Hello," he said. "Mom? Speak up, I can't hear you."
I breathed a sigh of frustration. In my grief and pain, the last thing that I needed was Clayton's mother coming to the house, breathing down my neck and making me feel miserable about my existence. I listened to the conversation and tried to glean what I could.
"Mom, I was busy then that's why I didn't pick," Clayton.
"Ohh. You're coming over? When?"
"Ahh, Nadine, she's here," he said and turned to look at me. "I'm sure she'll be glad to see you."
"Okay. Bye, mom," he said and hung up.
"What now?" I asked him.
"My mom, she said she wants to come over and spend some time with us," he said without lifting his head from his phone.
"Oh, God," I said. "And for how long?"
"Probably a few weeks," he replied and my heart skipped a beat.
"A few weeks?!?!" I said, wide-eyed with surprise.
"Yeah, those were exactly her words," he said gently.
"Shit," I said under my breath.
A new fear spread all over my body. Mrs. Rocco was as arrogant as her son, maybe even more. But I still felt the grief from Naomi's death.
"Did Trent kill Naomi?" I asked Clayton, my voice low and smoldering, and my eyes burning.
"Well, I think he did," he said with a shrug.
I was seized by a sudden energy and I got up and made for the door. In my mind, I would find Trent and almost kill him. Naomi was a gift to my existence, to Anna's existence and he snatched her from me, from Anna, just like that. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Clayton said, grabbing my arm. "Get the fuck back."
"No. Nothing is stopping me," I said and again, tried to make my way past his figure.
He pushed me back again, this time so far back that I landed on my buttocks on the marbled floors.
"You're not going anywhere, bitch," he said sternly. "And that's a fucking order. Stay right there!"
"That motherfucker killed my best friend," I said, quickly getting on my feet. "He's gonna pay for it. He deserves to be behind jail bars."
"Well, it must interest you to know that he isn't paying for shit," Clayton said, leaning against the doorpost. "Palms have been greased and my friend is as innocent as any other person in this fucking city. So watch what you say. Don't go around talking shit about who killed this person. I don't want to hear any of it. In fact, for the next few days, I don't want you leaving this house; stay the fuck inside. Besides, my mom is on her way, and I want you to be here to attend to her."
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And with that, he left. I did not know which hit me the hardest - the fact that he had bribed his way into having Trent escape justice, which only made sense because he was Clayton Rocco, the billionaire; or the fact that he had sentenced me to being in the house again; or even the fact that his mom was on her way.
"Shit," I said under my breath again. I stood up and collapsed on the bed.
Clayton:
Mother's visit was unprecedented. She came with her driver and I waited for them in the driveway. When her luggage was pulled out of the car trunk, I realized she was going to be around for quite a while. "Hello, Clayton," she said with a contrived smile. "How are you doing, boy?"
I crouched as she planted kisses on both of my cheeks.
"You came with all your luggage?" I asked as I led her into the house.
"Ahh, Clayton, this isn't even one-tenth of my stuff," she said with a wave of hand. "This is just enough clothes to see through the next few days. It's going to be fun."
I chuckled to myself as my mother's idea of fun hit me; it simply would consist of saying the most hurtful things to Nadine, riling her up in the process. Mother was right, it was going to be fun. I went to Nadine's room to inform her of mother's arrival.
"My mom is here," I said to her. "You need to be downstairs, you know, playing the role of a dutiful daughter-in-law."
"That woman hates me," was her reply.
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I laughed loud and long.
"Well, that's to be expected, considering the kind of person that you are."
"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" She said harshly.
"You figure it out," she said. "I don't give a shit. You need to be downstairs. You have not more than a few minutes before she comes out for her meal."
"I don't want to, Clayton," she said, a desperate plea in her voice. "Can't I, like, stay with her till she leaves? I mean, so that I don't get in her way?"
"Well that would be an awfully long time," he said. "You should have seen the bags she came with. Besides, I don't think you'd like the experience of being incarcerated again, would you?"
I saw her face drop, exactly what I wanted. I left her to contemplate, knowing fully well that she knew that she had no choice.
When it was dinnertime and we were all sitting around the table, Mom began with her talk.
"So, Nadine, have you found any work yet?" She asked. "Anything to make yourself useful with?"
Nadine raised her head slowly.
"Not yet," she said timidly. She clearly wasn't ready for my mother that night.
"So, basically, all you do is sit around, eat and spend money you didn't work for, right?" Mom said. "That's interesting to note."