Page 56 of Cause When You Love Someone
I drove up the curved driveway and saw a group of women I had never seen trailing behind Mrs. Rose when she exited her house. Clarke lingered behind with Sage at her side. A pair of shades covered her gaze, but her bunched brows and pursed lips explained her mood.
“Look who decided to show up,” Mrs. Rose greeted me when I got out of my truck. “I hope you’re ready to put those muscles to good use because this weekend is going to be crazy.”
“I’ve done my research. My company is going to send extra guards out to meet us.”
Shiloh had the idea to fly extra men out to work, and judging by what I read about the festival, the extra protection was welcomed.
“Well, I hope the men are more professional than you. Every time Clarke goes missing, you’re unavailable to find her.”
“Mrs. Rose, I’m not going to try to convince you I’m capable of making sure your daughter and anyone with her gets home in one piece. I’ll stick to my job, and you concentrate on yours.”
Clarke’s mom stomped away, making room for the brown-skinned beauty to take her place.
“Hey, you.” She spoke in a low voice.
“What’s up. I see you brought your entourage.”
She smirked. “They’re ladies I’ve worked with over the years. I had to bail on our girls’ trip, so I figured this was a healthy compromise.”
“Always thinking of others.” I pointed to the red blotch on the side of her neck. “Is the hickey the reason you’ve been acting funny toward me? That’s tacky as fuck.”
“You know me better than that. I’m too fly to be tacky,” she answered quickly. “I’ve been taking some time to reflect on a few things. Our pictures were all over the internet, and we haven’t made anything—never mind. It’s not what I know you’re thinking, Ishmael.”
“Did you let that man touch you?”
Her shoulders dropped, followed by her head. “Ishmael …”
“Baby girl, you don’t need to explain yourself, especially if it’s hard. We had fun. I enjoyed you. Let’s just put things back on a professional level. You good with that?”
A glimmer of unshed tears added a sparkle to her eyes.
“Ishmael, I had an amazing time being with?—”
My one-note chuckle caused her to pause and pin me with a stern stare.
“Ishmael, don’t do that to me.”
“You’re doing it to yourself.”
I left her standing alone and climbed into the passenger seat of the sprinter. During our ride to the airport, I pretended to read, though I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder a few times. Every time, Clarke’s focus was launched in my direction. Her gloomy demeanor made me regret ever crossing of the line. Though we were grown, I would have never been with her if it turned into her staring at me with sadness narrowing her gaze.
After we arrived in Vegas, I assisted the house staff in getting all the luggage inside. The ladies journeyed into the backyard, so I prepared to go to my room, but one of them asked me to take pictures of them.
“Ask Sage to handle that.”
“He’s in the restroom.” She sucked her teeth. “You’re a grouch. Clarke said you were sweet. There’s a videographer coming, but he doesn’t land until five.”
I took hold of the phone she shoved into my chest and followed her to where the others waited in the backyard. While they figured out how they wanted to pose, I examined the phone and realized it belonged to Clarke. After spending months together, I knew her passcode, but out of respect, I walked over and asked her to unlock the phone. In her personal space, Imade the mistake of locking eyes. The cheers from her friends were the only thing to break my trance.
“Y’all need to cut it out.” Clarke giggled as she rushed back to the group.
As expected, they shifted around in different poses and asked me to take multiple shots. Their excitement and the liquor they drank had them moving swiftly, so I scrolled through the pictures to check my work. Images of Clarke with a black eye, a tearful face, and bruises around her neck made my mouth go dry. My stomach pitted into tight coils as I gripped the phone, storming toward the door.
“Ishmael. Ishmael!”
I heard Clarke, but I didn’t face her until we were both inside the house.
“What the hell is wrong with you? One second, you’re smiling while taking our pictures, and the next?—”
