Indebted: Part Three (Series Finale): The Virgin & The Bad-Boy Billionaire (A BWWM Billionaire Romance) Read online

  “He was working double shifts at the factory.” He pulls himself back to the present to answer my question but still looks off into the distance as he talks. “We didn’t have a reliable car back then, the stupid thing was always busting down. It was one of those times when the car was on the fritz, so Dad missed the last bus and was walking down the side of the street sometime after midnight. Anyway, a drunk driver swerved right into him.”

  That’s the same story I’ve heard a million times. Normally, it’s all I’ve ever felt I wanted to know about it. My father was a good man, killed by a drunk driver. Case closed. However, with Marjorie’s recent bombshell, I need to know more. “I know that, but what happened? Why weren’t there any charges laid against the guy?” I pretend to be ignorant.

  Reginal sniffs, and clears his throat. “The driver? Well, he died too. Not on the scene, but a few days later in the hospital. He had a kid in the car with him too, not like the boys.” He nods over at Bailey and Jonah, sitting over in the grass together looking at a caterpillar with the dedicated fascination that only four-year-olds can. “He was older. Probably in his early teens. Anyway, he walked away from it, but he had some broken bones and got cut up pretty good. He was pretty banged up.”

  “Matthew Blackwell?” The question hangs over the picnic table like a rain cloud over a wedding.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Why do you want to know about the kid?” Issaiah interrupts us, twisting his mouth to the side.

  “I’ve been dating him.” I breathe the confession into my hands, hanging my head over the table. I can feel their eyes on me, making me smaller with each second ticking by.

  “You’re what?” Regional looks concerned. “How does that happen, exactly?” His fidgety hands abandon their work peeling the paper off his beer as he crosses his arms across his chest. Blake and Issaiah don’t say a word, just waiting for me to explain myself as I coax my tongue to speak. A light snore spreads across the table from Tania, breaking some of the tension. Blake puts his arm around his fiance, pulling her head onto his shoulder.

  “He came to the diner one day. Not too long ago, maybe a month. I was on shift so I brought him a menu, and we went on a date.” I breeze over the details of the day. They don’t need to know about how I yelled at him for calling me sweetheart or that he called me at home after I threw away his number. Reginal and Issaiah exchange a glance but remain silent. “What? Tell me,” I prod them, knowing they’re holding back.

  “So,” Issaiah rolls the word over his tongue like an expensive wine, “he was looking for you?” It’s impossible not to hear the alarm in his voice. “Did he offer you money?”

  “What? What the hell are you asking me?” My shoulders stiffen with the implication. Is he asking me if I’ve been acting as some kind of call-girl for Matthew? Blake and I exchange our own glance, but it’s one of shared confusion. Apparently he’s been living in the dark right along with me.

  Reginal raises his hand up, shushing us up. He closes his eyes like he’s trying to remember the details of what he’s about to tell me, “when you first went to university, Matthew Blackwell tracked down Mama. He told her that he wanted to make things right with her. His heart seemed to be in the right place, I guess, but he tried to give her some money.”

  “Some money!” Isaiah snorts. “She never would’ve worked again!”

  Reginal nods at Issaiah and continues, “it’s true, he offered her enough to retire comfortably. Mama wouldn’t have any of it though. She told him that she’d never taken a handout in her life, and she wasn’t going to start with him. The kid, I mean, your boyfriend kept persisting though. He wasn’t taking no for an answer, but he didn’t know what he was up against with her stubborn streak. She ripped a strip off him, yelling at him about how his cash wouldn’t fix the damage done. About how rich people are all the same, they think money can smooth everything over.”

  In my mind, I watch Matthew bearing the brunt of my mother’s anger over his father’s mistake. My heart hurts when I picture him reaching out to her, trying to help her in the only way he was taught how to. With money.

  “She should’ve taken that check, if you ask me,” Issaiah speaks up. “They say pride goeth before the fall, don’t they? If she just wasn’t so damned proud, then she wouldn’t have worked herself to death. Her heart was already weak, and she knew it. Taking it easy back then would’ve kept her around to meet all her grandchildren today.”

  “Why would anyone turn down a chance like that?” Blake blinks, trying to understand her decision. I already understand as clearly as if I had slammed the door in his face instead of Mama. Lord knows, I’ve had plenty of experience turning him away myself.

  “Because she didn’t want to be pitied. She didn’t want to be his charity case.” I echo the words I’ve repeated to Brianna numerously since I learned about the accident.

  “Exactly,” Reginal agrees, “and look where that got her. Mama made a mule look like a push-over. In the end, I’d say you’re right Issaiah, her pride is what killed her just as much as that heart attack.

  My ears are ringing like someone cuffed them. Now I’ve been walking step-for-step in my Mama’s footprints, shutting him out for fear of being weak or pitied. This whole time Matthew has just been trying to make things right with my family, and he’s just dealt with pride and anger.

  “So, is he some kind of stalker or something?” Blake asks me. “It seems weird that he found you on purpose and now you two are dating.

  “He’s not a stalker!” My voice is louder than I wanted, but hearing someone else talk about Matthew like that shreds my insides. Especially since I was just saying the same things about him just a couple of days ago. “He did originally find me to talk to me about his father, but things got serious between us pretty quick. And he never offered me any money at all,” I say pointedly to Reginal. “It doesn’t matter now anyway,” remorse fills my sigh, “I fucked it up. We’re done now anyway.”

  “It sounds like that’s probably for the best anyway,” Reginal breezes over my heavy heart. “You’ve got enough going on right now; there’ll be other guys.” Not like him. I bite my tongue, not wanting to put argue with my brother. Maybe he’s right, it could be for the best.

  “Who wants another beer?” Regional interrupts my thoughts, rolling his naked bottle in his hand. The fragments of the beer label are stripped off and strewn over the table.

  “Nah, we should probably head out here soon.” Blake smooths his hand over Tania’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, it’s getting late.”Isaiah agrees. The sky is turning the deep hues of blue that you only see just before the first stars shimmer. As soon as Reginal is out of earshot, Issaiah leans into me. “Hey, I can see that this wasn’t just some fling was it? You really care about this guy, huh?”

  I nod, not trusting my voice as my eyes start to water.

  “Listen, Mama was a great woman. I’m not taking anything away from her, ok? You’re so much like her Kendra, I can see the best of Mama in you.”

  “Thank you, I try.”

  “I know you do. But here’s the thing, don’t follow that path too close, ok? I mean, Mama didn’t die a happy woman, you know? She could’ve let someone help her and had a longer and more fulfilling life. She could’ve still been with us right now, holding Marie or playing with Bailey and Jonah, but she let her pride break her. I just don’t want to see you do the same. If you have something real, don’t let your stubborn streak destroy it.”

  “I think I already did,” I mumble to my iced tea.

  “It’s only too late if you say it is,” Blake adds.

  Is he right? Can I still fix this? I’m not sure. My head is swimming in thorns as my temples start throbbing after such an emotional day. There’s one thing that I’m certain of right now; that I need to get home and get some rest.

  As Issaiah and Winnie pack up the car, I drift over to the side of the house and pull out my phone. Matthew’s number stares me in the face as I w
eigh out the consequences of calling him. What if he tells me to stay out of his life? What if he hates me? I throw back my shoulders and stick out my jaw. There’s only one way to find out. The phone rings, once…twice…three times.

  “Hello, You’ve reached Matthew Blackwell on my private line. Please leave a message and I’ll return your call shortly.” BLEEP, the voice mail deafens me with it’s prompt to leave a message.

  “Um, yeah. Hi, Matthew. This is, uh, Kendra. And, well, I was hoping we could talk maybe? I know that you might not want to speak with me, but I thought I’d try to get a hold of you. Anyway, if you want to call me back? That’d be really great and….BLEEP! His messaging service just cut me off. I hang up and throw my phone into my purse, my mouth twisting in disgust. The thought of him listening to that rambling nonsense makes my brain feel like it’s being hammered with hot nails. Great. And now, all I can do is sit back and wait.

  Chapter Three

  Swishing back and forth, I admire the way my floor length graduation gown hangs from my shoulders. “You look gorgeous, Kendra! Aren’t you glad you started wearing make-up? You look like a model, seriously.” Brianna beams over my shoulder. The tension that was swirling around us at the diner seems to have evaporated. It reminds me of when we were teenagers, and we would have epic blow-outs over something as stupid as who should win America’s Top Model that season. Then, less than a day later we would check our egos and move on as though we’d never spoken a bad word to each other in our entire lives.

  “Alright, how about you stand over by the bench under the tree there, Kendra? I just want to get a couple of shots while the lighting is still good.” Issaiah directs me, pointing at the massive weeping willow, perfectly manicured to hang over the bench like a humble monk hanging his head in prayer.

  I know that my brother is proud of me, but all the photos are getting a bit tiring. He’s had me posing near every landmark on campus for an hour now. I’d be embarrassed if every other family of grad students weren’t doing the exact same thing.

  “Ok, but this is the last set,” I wait for the cute couple posing with frozen kisses to slide out of the way.

  They look relieved to have a reason to stop obliging the man behind the camera ordering them around like they’re on a magazine cover shoot. “Ok, great! That’s good. Now give me a big smile. No, bigger smile Hallie. Ok, great! But now try to think of something that makes you super happy, that way your eyes will sparkle. Now Jake, put your arm around Hallie, perfect…”

  Luckily, Issaiah isn’t quite that controlling. After a few flashes of the camera, I’m bored with posing and pull Brianna into the shot with me. Standing together with fake smiles, we pose for a photo that will capture this moment in time until it becomes our only memories of it.

  “Issaiah, I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to get going,” my brother’s flash happy camera clicking grinds to a halt. “We have to get sorted out for the ceremony in fifteen minutes. You guys should all probably get seated anyway,” I tell my three brother’s and their wives. Fortunately, none of them brought their children. Not that they aren’t adorable, but sitting quietly through a three-hour ceremony isn’t what toddlers and newborns are known for. Truth be told, I’m not looking forward to sitting through it, and I’m the one crossing the stage.

  You’d think that with the last name Cole, I would be one of the first to have my diploma clutched in my sweaty palm. Yet, after forty minutes, I’m just now standing with the rest of my row.

  Scanning the crowd, I search row by row for my family now that I don’t have a hundred square-top hats blocking my view. A wall of unfamiliar faces stare back from the crowd. It’s a mishmash of expressions facing me, some look proud, others bored, more than a few are even sleeping. Finally, I spot my family off to the side. Winnie is waving to me enthusiastically while Issaiah looks like he’s trying to figure out how to put a lens on his camera that will fold the distance between us.

  The long line in front of me slowly starts to shrink as my mind wanders back to Matthew. I wish he were here. I sigh, self-pity seeping through me. You have no one to blame but yourself for that! I try to shake the fleeting thoughts from my mind. Today is about graduation, not Matthew Blackwell. Stay in the present. Not wallow about my mistakes in the recent past or worry about the future.

  Gazing back over the crowd, I jump, squinting my eyes to get a better look. I can’t be sure from this distance, but I’m almost certain that I see Matthew sitting toward the rear of the seating area. My eyes won’t focus clear enough to make out the details of his face.

  “…I said, Kendra Cole!” the Dean of business looks agitated as the words soak into my brain.

  “Oh, shit,” I whisper. Sweeping across the stage, I reach the podium where he waits with my diploma in hand. A quick handshake and a smile blur together in a second, then it’s all over. The culmination of two years of hard work scrawled across a single sheet of paper. Floating to the other side of the stage, I join my peers and wait for the Dean to make his way through the endless list of names.

  As soon as I’m allowed to leave the formality of the graduation ceremony behind, I race down the stairs of the stage and start twisting through the crowd. Brianna and my family are making their way over to me, but I hurry past them. My only focus right now is to reach Matthew before he disappears into the mob.

  Craning my neck does no good, I just can’t see over all these small groups of people congregating all over the lawn. Hopping up onto an empty folding chair, I twist and turn like a balloon figure on a car sales lot, trying to track him down amongst the hundred other dark-haired men in suits.

  There he is! I spot him near the back seats. Jumping back down to the grass, I push through the remaining crowd like a linebacker at the Super Bowl. I’m getting closer, I can see him now that the crowd is starting to space out farther. My years of track and field are coming in handy as I sprint toward him. Although, I still don’t have much experience running in a billowing gown. “Matthew! Wait up!” Grabbing him by the arm, he swirls around surprised and confused. Not as surprised as I am to see that it isn’t Matthew’s arm that I’m clinging onto at all, but a stern looking stranger.

  Yanking his arm back from my grasp, he pulls his suit jacket down firmly. “Excuse me! Do I know you?” His eyes narrow into thin slits as I shift my weight from foot to foot, locked under his irritated stare.

  “No, you don’t. I’m sorry.” I mumble to the golf course cut grass beneath our feet. “I thought you were someone else.” Defeated, I turn away, slowly making my way back to my family.

  Brianna stumbles through the group of stragglers around me, out of breath. “Kendra,” she breathes like she just crossed the finish line at an Iron Man, “what are you doing?” Gasping and puffing, she clings onto my arm, and I’m not entirely certain that she isn’t about to faint. Even though I know this isn’t the time to give her yet another lecture on smoking, in a lot of ways, it feels appropriate. Managing to steady her breathing, she looks me in the eyes, “where are you going? Are you ok?”

  I bite my trembling lip. No. I’m not ok. “I thought I saw Matthew,” my voice cracks. “It looked so much like him, I just… I fucked it all up! You were right, I just couldn’t let myself be happy and now I’m going to spend, god knows how long, being miserable. And I did it to myself!”

  “No, don’t say that.” Brianna holds me in her arms like a child who’s afraid of the dark. “You can fix this, I know you can.”

  “No, I don’t think so. There’s only so much that people can take, you know? I’ve been such a brat to Matthew, I can’t blame him for not wanting anything to do with me.” Hot tears spill over the corners of my eyes and trail slowly down over my cheeks. I ignore the nosy stares we’re getting from people around us. I don’t care about anything right now. It all feels so empty.

  “Brianna holds my hand, softly rubbing her hand over the backs of my fingers. “Kendra, you can’t just give up because it’s hard! That’s not you.”


  “This isn’t like school, though. It’s different! What am I supposed to do? I called him two days ago, and he never answered me!” My voice is overshadowed by a sob that I can’t hold back anymore. “It’s clear he just doesn’t want to deal with me anymore. What can I do? It’s not like I can just show up at his place or the office, you know?”

  “No, you don’t have to.”

  “I just need to let it go. People fuck up all the time; I’ll get over it.”

  “No, just listen a sec…”

  “It’s ok. I’m going to be ok. I’m strong and like you said before, I’ve got a lot going for me in my life. I can move on, I know I can…”

  “Kendra! Listen to me!” Brianna shakes my shoulders and my gown flaps like a plastic bag in a windstorm. “You don’t have to stalk him and you don’t have to give up. Look,” she pulls her phone out of her sleek purse, pulling up a screen. “He’s going to be here,” she thrusts the cell in my face so close that I can’t even make out the words on the screen. Before I have a chance to pull it back more than an inch and a half from my nose, Brianna continues, “he’s hosting the Annual Zervion MADD Arts silent auction tomorrow at the Guggenheim Gallery. It’s open to the public, Kendra. We’ll go, you two can talk, this is all going to work out. I promise.”