I Can Love You Page 9

  “Deal. We both know that even with two bullet holes in me, you’d never beat me, ’cause, baby, you have no skills whatsoever.”

  “For someone laid up in a hospital bed, you sure do talk a lot of trash.”

  “Yeah, but you know it only turns you on,” he joked. “Just face it, even when I’m all banged up, Blue, you still want me.”

  Laughing, Tara eased back into the chair and slowly backed out of the room as she waved goodbye.

  Chapter 8

  Ten days later . . .

  Tara hung up the phone at her bedside after she placed an order for room service. She spent the past day settling into her hotel suite after dipping back into Philadelphia, she hoped, undetected.

  She looked at the card he gave her and stared at the number he’d written on the back of it. All she had to do was call, a task that should be super easy, but it wasn’t.

  Another phone rang beside her. She retrieved her cell to see Quinton’s name on the screen. Tara relaxed instantly. “Hey, you. How are you feeling?”

  “Great, now that they let me come home.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “Just in time, too. The family is going all out since it’s rare for me to be home for the holidays, even if it’s not because of my stay in the hospital, plus KeKe and Grim are still visiting. Do you mind coming over today to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Tara, don’t be like that. Now that everything has calmed down, if only all of you would sit down, this fighting could end.”

  “Quinton, no one is fighting. Grim ended his services with me, and your sister told me to stay away from you. Who’s fighting?” Tara responded, a bitter edge in her voice.

  “Tara, if it weren’t for you, Grim wouldn’t have his company. You got him started in the business. I don’t understand how you can sit there and let him do this?”

  “Quinton, he’s about to become a father and wants to be home more. It’s no big deal. I’ll find a new crew soon, and this mess will resolve itself.”

  “At least let him watch over you until you find someone. He told me he wanted to do that, but you refused. You shouldn’t be out there alone.”

  “Quinton, I’m not his concern anymore.”

  “Woman, you are just too damn stubborn.”

  “So I’ve heard. I guess my stubbornness has me back in Philadelphia for a few days,” she tossed out there casually.

  “You’re there? Now?”

  “I am. I checked in at the hotel last night. Just trying to get the nerve to see him.”

  “Good for you. I wish I was well enough to be there with you.”

  “Thank you, but even if you could, I need to do this on my own. The authorities already have several people around me at all times. Thanks for helping to make that happen. My sister told me she and Sydney would ask, but you’d already stepped in.”

  “Are they respecting your space?” he asked, his voice a blend of protectiveness and concern.

  “All of this has me feeling so suffocated, but I have to admit I felt a lot safer knowing I have someone watching over me at all times. They keep their distance but are close enough to protect me if need be. I’m in good hands.”

  “They only assigned undercover officers to you, and they don’t know our business as we do. Are you sure that’s enough?”

  “It must be for now. Building a security team, one I can trust takes time.”

  “In the meantime?”

  “I’ll work up the nerve to apologize to Marc. I might even ask him for help finding our child.”

  “Marc?” The name rolled off his tongue coldly and hung in the air for a minute until he asked, “Is that his name?”

  “It’s Marcus.” Tara heard the knock on the door, reminding of the food she ordered before his call. “I better get off the phone if I’m going to follow through on my promise to you.”

  “A’ight Blue. Talk to you later.”

  She hung up, and one of the officers stationed outside her door entered the room, pushing a cart draped with a white tablecloth. Multiple covered dishes and condiments covered the space, along with a few beverage options. Tara thanked the female officer who returned her pleasantries with a smile upon exiting the room.

  Tara stared at the food, her so-called Thanksgiving feast, and back at the card in front of her. She picked up the phone and typed in eight of the ten digits.

  “I don’t know if he’s even in town. It’ll be just my luck he’s away.” She set the phone down before talking herself into dialing the rest of the numbers and putting the call through.

  Just call the man and get it over with.

  “Marcus Grant speaking.”

  Hearing Marcus’s voice made her nervous. “Marc, it’s me, Tara.”

  “Hold on, let me go into another room. We just finished having dinner, and the clean-up is rather noisy.”

  “I’m thrilled to hear from you,” Marcus said when he returned to the telephone.

  “Is this the same Marcus Grant I saw just the other week?”

  “Unfortunately, it is. I owe you an apology, and I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was having an awful day, and things weren’t going well for me.”

  “I understand because I’ve been there. Anyway, I wanted to try talking to you again. Remember, you said to call first before coming over.”

  “When?” He was hesitant, but when he spoke, he did it in a surprise-laced voice.

  “Whenever it is convenient for you. I’m just hanging out watching old movies in a hotel room.”

  “You’re back in Philadelphia . . . on Thanksgiving?”

  “Well, yeah. I had nothing else going on, so I drove down last night.” Jordan returned home shortly after they released Tara to manage the holiday crowds. Mia was still, as she ironically spelled her name: MIA. Missing in action. “I wanted and needed to get away from the city for a few days.”

  “I can imagine after what happened. I heard about it on the news, and I’m pleased to know you are okay. Please accept my condolences for your friends and their families.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Everyone will probably leave in a couple of hours if you want to come by tonight. Unless you want me to ask them to stay so you can see them,” Marcus said. “You know, Stephanie is here, and so is Steve.”

  The mention of her old friends warmed her heart, but embarrassment weighed on her more. “Really! Well, as much as I would love to see them, I think it would be best if we talked alone first.”

  “You know what? I agree.”

  “What time is a good time for me to stop by?”

  “An hour work?”

  She looked at the food she was too nervous to eat. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  Marcus opened the door, and she immediately caught the odd expression on his face. She didn’t dress the same as the last time she’d paid him an unexpected visit. This time, the trappings of the glamourous lifestyle he once threw in her face was replaced by a thick white winter coat, white sweats, a baseball cap, and dark glasses. Soon his expression became neutral, masking all emotion.

  He stepped aside, and she entered the foyer. Marcus remained in place, looking out the door before closing it behind them.

  “May I?” she asked before removing the coat. He nodded, and she handed it to Marcus, who hung it on the coat rack.

  “Maybe we should go into the living room so we can talk,” Marcus suggested. With his hands jammed into his pants pockets, he nodded in the room’s direction.

  “That sounds fine,” Tara replied. Keeping her voice low in case his guests still lingered, a thought that made her stomach roll. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

  “I have plenty of time, and it’s obvious that whatever it is you wanted to see me about is important enough to bring you back down here to talk. Can I get you something to drink? We have lots of Thanksgiving leftovers. Want a sandwich or something?”

  He said ‘we,’
and she peered around the corner to see if there was a sign of who we entailed.

  Tara grinned, displaying a perfect set of teeth that took nearly two years to create. “Thanks, but I had a little something to eat before I left the hotel. However, I would like something to drink if you don’t mind.”

  “Wine? Beer? Water?”

  “Water will be fine.”

  Marcus brought her a glass of water, and they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Marcus said, “I hope you aren’t traveling alone. Don’t you have bodyguards?”

  Tara shook her head. Seeing his raised eyebrow, she added, “Not anymore.” Realizing that she shouldn’t have said anything about her security issues, she felt compelled to add, “It’s rather complicated . . . I mean, I have security, but lately, things have gone a little awry.”

  Sitting a safe distance across was the love of her life. This evening he dressed in casual attire, as relaxed as she’d known him to get, in jeans and a sweater. Marcus said, “I can imagine. Is that why you’re still sitting here behind the getup, all incognito? It’s pitch black outside, and you have those on.” Marcus pointed at her sunglasses.

  Tara removed the cap and, with her hands, loosened the tightness it had caused in her hair. She reluctantly took off the designer shades and placed them in their case inside her bag. When she lifted her head and faced Marcus, his expression troubled.

  “I don’t want people seeing me like this,” she said, tilting her face down to hide the residual bruising near her eye that makeup could not conceal.

  Marcus moved to her side on the sofa. His light touch traced the outline of a fading bruise along her hairline and down her cheek. “Oh, Tara.”

  “It looks worse than what it is,” she lightly replied. “Honest.” Three butterfly sutures showed where glass had pierced her face.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “You’re making me nervous by staring at me,” she said, forcing a smile. “I was fortunate.”

  Marcus stood and walked toward the fireplace. Poking at the burning wood inside as to release his frustration, Marcus continued, “And with your bruises still visible, you traveled without someone protecting you? Do you realize how crazy that sounds?”

  “I know it does, but I only came here to talk to you. There are agents outside. I’ll be okay without my security,” she said, trying to convince him and herself. “And I do trust you.”

  Marcus turned and looked at her, puzzled. “You do? Since when?”

  “Marc, I’ve always trusted you. I never stopped trusting you.”

  “Then tell me, Tara, why didn’t you tell me you decided to carry the baby? Why didn’t you trust me enough to let me love you and our child together?”

  “I tried.”

  “Not hard enough.”

  Tara fidgeted with the edge of her sweatshirt sleeve. “I always trusted you, Marc. I didn’t trust myself. That is partially why I’m here,” she continued, noticing Marcus tensing up. She suspected he resented her and didn’t want to hear what she had to say. But she would not back down now; she had come too far. “I want to apologize to you.”

  “For what?” Marcus asked.

  Tara stood and paced the floor. A minute later, she sat back down and blurted, “I’m sorry for everything. When I found out I was pregnant, I should have told you then, but I was afraid of ruining your career plans.”

  “And yours,” he coldly added.

  Tara exhaled loudly and picked up her cap and bag. She stood up, saying, “I knew I should have just let this go. Thanks for your time.”

  Marcus moved in front of her, blocking her departure. “That’s all you have to say after ten years? I’m sorry if I appear a little upset, but Tara, what you did, how you abandoned us. It’s not something one can so easily forgive or forget.”

  She knew that she had hurt not only him but also herself, and possibly their child.

  He puffed out soundly and gestured toward the chair she abandoned. “Please, have a seat. It’s obvious you have a lot still on your chest,” Marcus said.

  Tara forced herself to continue, hoping to get her words out without another interruption. “I didn’t worry about my career, but I was concerned about my sisters and my father. They had put so much into the group, and I didn’t want to be the reason to end it all. It scared me because so many people had invested in us. Spin Records had already poured nearly a million dollars into the group, and Pure’s fate rested on me. I also recall the way your family felt about me without their knowledge of my pregnancy and worried about how you would finish school without their help. I wanted to tell you. I swear, I did. I wanted to do the right thing, but it all happened so fast after everyone found out. I didn’t want to get an abortion, as my father suggested, so I believed placing the baby up for adoption was the best solution and my only option. I’m so sorry I made that decision without you.”

  “Do you know what it was like for me when you left? I had just found out the only woman I had ever loved was having my baby, and then days later, she leaves town. I didn’t hear from you, and I didn’t know what was going on. It crushed me.”

  “Marc . . . I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry? Are you sorry? Do you honestly think ‘sorry’ can make up for what happened years ago? Don’t you think it might be a little too late? Tara, you’ve been gone for ten years.”

  “I know. Marc, I’ve wanted to talk to you about it, but I was afraid to come to you without our child. What was there to say to you after that? What will make up for me leaving how I did? But Marc, I didn’t have a choice. I realize now I should have stuck up for myself, but I was terrified. I should’ve chosen you and our child, but I didn’t. I know it’s too late to go back and change what I did, but please, believe me, I would if it were possible.”

  “Do you honestly believe you would have given up fame and fortune for me?”

  “Do you think I’m that shallow?”

  “You are, or you wouldn’t have hurt me as you did.”

  She slapped him, causing her hand to sting as he rubbed his face.

  “Goodbye, Marc. There’s no need to stick around to hear you insult me anymore. I’ll see myself out.”

  Marcus watched her walk out of the room and then called out to her when the front door opened. “Tara, you can’t keep running in and out of our lives like this. There’s only so much I can take, and I definitely won’t let my son go through it either.”

  Tara stopped in her tracks and then slowly closed the door. Returning to the living room, she peered in, and in a low, even tone said, “Excuse me? Our lives? Please tell your wife or whoever and your children I apologize for disturbing your little household with my visit. I only wanted to apologize in person to you after the pain I caused you.”

  “I’m not married,” he replied, “and never have been.”

  “Well, whatever. Now for the last time this evening, goodnight, Marcus.” She turned to retrace her steps to the door.

  Marcus placed his hands in his pockets and casually replied. “I don’t get you. You asked me if I thought you were superficial and became insulted by my response. Yet you came here only concerned about clearing your conscience. Why don’t you ask me about our son?”

  Again, walking back into the room, Tara had to hold on to a wall for balance. She exclaimed in shocked disbelief. “Our what?”

  Taken aback by her reaction, Marcus stared blankly and continued, “You don’t care to know how he’s doing?”

  “Marc, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about our son, Aaron. That is what all of this is about, isn’t it?”

  * * *

  After helping Tara to a chair, Marcus handed her another glass of water and watched her take the drink in huge gulps before setting the empty glass on the coffee table in front of them.

  “Can you please repeat that for me again?” she asked, still dazed and trying to focus on his explanation of what had occurred after she had given birth. “You’ve been
raising our son all this time?”

  “Yeah, I thought you knew. Based on Mia’s message, I assumed you . . .” The telephone ringing stopped him, and when she questioned him about her sister, Marcus didn’t answer, choosing to excuse himself instead. “I’m sorry. I should answer that; it’s probably Aaron.”

  Confused and having trouble digesting what she had heard, Tara nodded. Sitting on the edge of her chair, she couldn’t stop shaking her head in astonishment.

  By the time Marcus returned, she was no longer in his living room. She was opening and shutting cabinet doors in the kitchen when he peered around the corner.

  “There you are.” His voice was calm and steady, but frown lines marred his face. He watched with concerned eyes as Tara threw her helpless hands into the air before swiping a plastic cup off the counter. His hands remained in his pockets as he eased closer into the space to watch. She turned her back to him to pour merlot into it and did not stop until she downed the entire drink before pouring another.

  “I could have gotten that for you,” Marcus said politely.

  “I came in to get another glass of water and realized I needed something a little bit stronger. I hope you don’t mind; you shocked me,” she explained. Holding her cup, she picked up the half-empty bottle and walked out of the kitchen.

  But she did not return to the living room. Instead, with Marcus following cautiously behind, Tara started looking into each room she passed. The rooms were dark, and there was no sign of the child.

  “So, where is he?” she asked. She was about to walk up the stairs until he stopped her.

  “That was Aaron on the phone asking if he can sleepover at his friend’s tonight. I agreed to let him because we still have a lot to discuss,” Marcus told her. Looking sternly at the bottle, he added, “Seems I made the right choice. I sure don’t want him seeing you here like this.”

  Tara pivoted, nearly causing her drink to spill. She teetered on a stair that put her at eye level with Marcus.

  “Excuse me? You have some nerve.” The alcohol seemed to have given her a sense of strength and confidence—except she was not a big drinker, and the merlot had affected her speech. “How dare you, Marcus Grant! How dare you keep him away from me!”