Black Forever Page 2

  He seemed different in some way, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He seemed more intense than usual, his authority ringing in the air even during the quietest of times. It almost seemed like he was angry, but the affection he showed me disproved that theory.

  We walked into the building and took the elevator to our floor.

  Calloway stood with his hands in his pockets, staring straight ahead like he was sharing the elevator with a stranger.

  I checked emails on my phone just so I had something to do.

  He walked me to my office then stepped inside with me. Both of his hands immediately went to my face as he cupped my cheeks and kissed me on the mouth. His kiss was slow but full of passion, telling me he would miss me while he remained down the hall for the rest of the day. He sucked my bottom lip before we broke apart.

  His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, grazing my cheek with the same gentleness he showed me that morning. He gave me a final look of longing, as if he wanted to stay in that tiny little office with me for the rest of the day. Without saying another word, he walked out and left me standing there, weak in the knees for the man who made me tremble with just a single kiss.

  I sat at my desk and stared at the black computer screen, still thinking about that final kiss before he left. Something was different between us. His feelings seemed to intensity, to amplify. I didn’t know what the difference was, but I knew I liked it.

  Calloway and I left the office at the end of the day and got into the back seat of Tom’s car.

  “Do you want to stop by and see your mom?”

  Calloway stared out the window like he hadn’t heard me. His five-o’clock shadow was already starting to come in now that the evening drew near. In his black suit, his frame looked powerful and prominent. Despite the fact that every inch of his frame was covered, it was obvious he was a muscular man. “Sure.”

  Tom headed for the assisted-living facility at the edge of the city once he heard Calloway’s response.

  I stared out the window and enjoyed the silence between us. Calloway and I didn’t always need to talk to fill the emptiness that emerged through lack of conversation. Just being together seemed to be enough for both of us. Since we were together all the time, there wasn’t anything new to discuss.

  The quiet was fine with me, but I missed his affection. I hadn’t received any since this morning, so I reached across the seat between us and grabbed his hand. My palm was much smaller than his, nothing comparable. I felt the thick veins across the top of his hand and wished those powerful hands were all over my body.

  Calloway stared at my hand before he brought it to his lips and gave it a kiss. His mouth was warm against my cold hand, his lips wet and soft. He locked eyes with me as he kissed me, the intensity powerful and scorching at the same time.

  He lowered my hand and rested it on his thigh, his hand positioned on top. He turned his gaze back to the window, his fingertips over his lips as he returned to his thoughts.

  “Calloway?”

  “Hmm?” His eyes didn’t shift back to me.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “That I wish Tom weren’t around.”

  We arrived at the nursing home then walked inside. Calloway didn’t have a book with him, so he pulled out his phone and downloaded the book. Sometimes, his mother wasn’t in the mood to be read to, but most of the time, she was.

  We walked into her room then the balcony, where she sat in her rocking chair. We introduced ourselves as usual then took a seat.

  Theresa stared at Calloway hard, giving him an expression neither one of us had seen before. It was similar to the look Calloway gave me when he was angry. But her expression was much softer.

  Calloway held her look, waiting for her to say something.

  I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but every time I came to visit, I hoped his mother would have a revelation. Something about me stimulated her memory once, and I hoped Calloway’s presence would somehow remind her that he was her son. I knew it hurt Calloway that my appearance had more of an impact on her than his ever did, despite the fact that he’d been diligently visiting her for years.

  A pained look stretched across her face, a stress that couldn’t be quantified based on her expression alone. “Have we met before?”

  My lungs immediately stopped working because my body could no longer function. I’d always known a mother’s love for her children would outweigh any illness. There was no way she could look at Calloway and ignore those crystal blue eyes that she shared. She couldn’t look at him and not see the same visage her husband once possessed.

  Calloway’s expression didn’t change as he held her look. Sometimes it was impossible to tell what he was thinking because he didn’t give anything away. I could usually detect his moods, and when he was really transparent, his thoughts. But right now, the thoughts behind that handsome face were a mystery. “Yes. I’ve been visiting you every week for the past three years. You’ve met me many times.”

  “I have?” she whispered.

  Calloway nodded. “I’ve read the first half of Harry Potter to you over three hundred times. It’s your favorite book.”

  The pained expression returned to her face. She pressed her thin lips tightly together in distress. “I feel like… Were you just here?”

  Maybe this was going somewhere. Maybe seeing her so often had given her memory a positive push.

  “Yes.” Calloway’s voice grew stronger, filling with hope. “I was here two days ago. And I was here the day before that.”

  Theresa turned her gaze on me, studying my face like she recognized it. “There was another young man with you…I think.”

  Now I could hardly breathe.

  Calloway’s chest stilled in reaction, floored by what he just heard. “Yes. That was my brother.”

  “I think I remember him…” Her hand immediately went to the necklace around her throat, feeling the gold chain. “Very handsome…very nice.”

  “Yeah,” Calloway said in agreement. “Do you remember anything else?”

  She stared at the wood floor beneath her feet, her fingertips still stroking the chain. “No…just that he was a fine young man.”

  I turned my face to Calloway, silently asking him what we should do. I wondered if Calloway would ever tell her that he was her son, that she lost her memory due to illness, but he was still there for her. Would that just upset her? Frighten her? There was no way to know.

  Calloway pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Call him.”

  I followed his instructions immediately and returned to the lobby where I would have privacy.

  Jackson answered almost immediately. “See? I told you that you would feel better. You’re a new man.”

  I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but I didn’t care to find out. “We need you to come down here to see your mother.”

  Jackson paused over the line. “Rome?”

  “Yes,” I said in frustration. “Now can you come down here?”

  “Why? Is she okay?” Alarm shot into his voice, turning protective just like Calloway.

  “She’s fine, but she claims to remember you. If you come down here, maybe it’ll help her memory even more.”

  Another pause. “She remembers me…?”

  “Yes. Could you please come down here?”

  Jackson’s hesitation was obvious over the phone, even in his silence.

  “Get down here, or I’ll come get you. What’s it gonna be?” Jackson was twice my size and a much bigger pain in the ass, but I would make it work somehow.

  Jackson probably didn’t take my threat seriously, but he must have realized he would have to deal with Calloway if he didn’t come down there. “Alright. Give me five minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And by the way, stop calling me from Calloway’s phone. Don’t wanna say something I shouldn’t.”

  “Maybe you should ju
st say hi first instead of blabbing everything that comes to mind.” I hung up and crossed my arms over my chest. I was furious with Jackson even though he’d done nothing to deserve my wrath. I was anxious about Theresa and wanted Jackson there as quickly as possible. Every moment wasted was a moment we may never get back. She might lose her train of thought and forget what she said altogether.

  I needed this to work for Calloway. I knew what it was like not to have a single parent. Christopher and I did just fine, but it was still a lonely existence. Calloway’s father was an asshole, but his mother contained the innocence of an angel. I wanted Calloway to have this, to have something to counteract all the bullshit in his life.

  I would do anything to make it happen.

  Jackson walked inside an eternity later. He wore a blue suit with a gray tie, showing distinct similarities to his brother. They were both tall and muscular, being the definition of masculinity.

  “Alright, I’m here.” He adjusted his cuff links like he was about to walk into a business meeting. “What do I do?”

  “Just walk in there and be normal.”

  “How can I be normal when my mother has no memory of me?” he snapped. Without waiting for further instruction, he headed to her room.

  I followed behind him until we reached the balcony. Calloway was sitting in the exact same position as he was before, gazing at his mother with a hopeless expression.

  Jackson took the seat directly beside him and rested his hands on his knees. He stared at his mother blankly, not having a clue what to say. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but he quickly shut it again.

  I sat beside Jackson and waited for something to happen.

  Calloway took the reins. “Theresa, this is my brother Jackson.”

  Theresa stared at him with the same empty expression. Slowly, recognition spread across her face. “Yes…I remember you.”

  My hands moved together, and my fingers interlocked just to remain steady.

  Jackson held her stare, no longer the macho man I heard over the phone. When Jackson was faced with his mother, he turned into a vulnerable and compassionate man, something I didn’t think was possible. “It’s nice to see you again. Your hair…looks nice.”

  “Thank you.” A smile spread across her face. “I remember your face, but I can’t remember what we talked about.”

  “That’s okay,” Jackson said. “There’s always time to get to know one another again.”

  I wished I were sitting by Calloway so I could rest my hand on his thigh, give him some sort of affection so he would understand he wasn’t alone in this. But it seemed like we were a mile apart with Jackson between us.

  “Do you have a woman in your life?” Theresa asked.

  Jackson chuckled. “No, not really.”

  “What’s with the laugh?” she asked.

  Jackson shrugged. “I’m not really looking to settle down. Not a one-woman kind of guy.”

  Theresa and Jackson talked about his love life, almost like mother and son. I turned to Calloway to make eye contact with him, but he wouldn’t meet my look. He stared at his mother, his eyes glazed over with pure nothingness.

  I kept waiting for something big to happen, for Theresa to realize her flesh and blood was staring right back at her. But the connection never came. She talked about knitting and asked Jackson about his work. It seemed like she was having a conversation with a friend rather than a family member. Maybe she remembered his face from the other day, but she certainly didn’t remember anything else.

  I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

  After visiting for a few hours, we said goodnight and headed on our way.

  Jackson walked with his hands in his pockets as we reached the lobby. “Well…I guess that went well.”

  Calloway was silent, his brooding energy seeping into the skin of everyone around him.

  “Maybe if we keep visiting her, we could help her create new memories,” I said. “If she can continue remembering us, then we can eventually tell her she’s your mother.”

  Calloway shook his head. “She said she recognizes faces but can’t remember the conversation. I don’t think that’s promising. For all we know, she might think she remembers us but has no memory at all.”

  I hated his pessimistic attitude, but I couldn’t argue with him. Maybe we weren’t moving forward at all. Maybe we were just wasting our time altogether. “It’s worth a try, right?”

  “I don’t know,” Jackson said. “I hate seeing her like this…not fun.”

  “I don’t like it either,” Calloway said. “I’m starting to believe there’s no hope. She’s stuck in a prison in her mind, and there’s nothing we can do to break her out.”

  “That’s not true…” Even if it was true, I didn’t want to believe it.

  Calloway didn’t look at me.

  “This is too hard for me, man,” Jackson said. “I want to be there for her. I really do. But I can’t keep staring at the blank look on her face. She has no idea who I am. And she’ll never know who I am. She’ll never know you visit her several times a week. She’ll never know we even exist. So what does all this work matter? If it were me, I’d want my kids to enjoy their lives and not worry about me. I wouldn’t want them to waste their time reading to me when I’m gonna forget them the second they leave. Not worth it…” Jackson walked away without further comment. He walked through the front doors then disappeared from our sight.

  Calloway didn’t go after him and try to change his mind. He accepted his brother’s feelings completely. But he still wouldn’t look at me, probably not interested in the sadness on my face.

  “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.” I had no right to tell Calloway what to do in this regard. He was the one carrying the emotional burden of his mother’s illness, something I would never understand since I hadn’t experienced it. Even if I didn’t agree with his decision, it would be wrong for me to steer him in a different direction.

  Calloway finally looked at me, his blue eyes dark with despair. “I know.”

  3

  Calloway

  It amazed me how suddenly I regressed back to the man I was before I met Rome. My exterior had suddenly callused, and now I was hard as steel once more. My jaw was always tight with fury, and I couldn’t stop my hands from constantly forming fists. My need to dominate, to exert my authority and power into every room I walked into, was overwhelming.

  But I liked it.

  I got what I needed from Isabella. I hurt her—a lot. And every time she cried, it gave me immense satisfaction. I was a sadist, and I knew I would always be a sadist. I never had the intention or desire to hurt Rome because I focused all my efforts on a different person entirely.

  And that allowed me to cherish her.

  I enjoyed our lovemaking even more now that my other needs were fulfilled. I could concentrate on her and all the thing she loved. To my surprise, I loved it too. The gentle touching, the soft caresses, everything revved my engine.

  But sometimes I found myself wanting to dominate her even though she made it clear she didn’t want to be treated like a sub. When I walked in the door after being with Isabella, I wanted to fuck Rome hard—and the way I liked.

  But to my surprise, she always did what I asked without giving me lip about it. Normally, she ran that sassy little mouth of hers until she pissed me off and got her way. But she hadn’t been doing that lately.

  Because she liked it.

  I knew she did—deep down inside. If she really kept an open mind and gave it a chance, she would love it. But I knew she was too stubborn to let me spank her with my belt. I’d have to accept her the way she was.

  And she would have to accept me.

  I sat at my desk and finished a meeting I had over Skype with a prominent donor. Unfortunately, most people only made donations to my nonprofit for the credit, so they called and requested new ways for their contribution to be announced, either with plaques, banners, or trophies.

  Fuck
ing annoying.

  When I finished that, my assistant buzzed me over the intercom. “Mr. Owens, Isabella is here to see you. Should I send her in?”

  The mention of her name immediately set my teeth on edge. If I wanted to be her Dom, I would go down to Ruin and make it happen. She had no right to come here and expect to get what she wanted. That wasn’t how it worked. “Yes, send her in.” I hit the button so hard I nearly broke it.

  “Yes, sir.”

  A moment later, Isabella walked inside. She wore a trench coat, and that told me everything I needed to know about her visit. She approached the desk with her gaze averted, not looking me in the eye because she hadn’t been given permission.

  I was livid.

  “Kneel.”

  She did as I asked immediately, bending her knees and declining to the hardwood floor.

  I stared at her, grinding my teeth together.

  Isabella returned to her position as a sub perfectly. Despite how silent I was, she still didn’t ask me a single question. She took steady breaths, remaining as still as possible. She did her job, and she did it well.

  “Did I command you to come here?”

  “No, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Then you had no right coming here. I never want you to come here again. Do you understand?” I leaned forward over the desk, my elbows resting on the surface.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Tell me why you’re here.”

  She rested her hands on her thighs, her head still tilted to the floor. “I missed you.”

  Not good enough. “Don’t ever miss me again, Isabella. I’m not yours to miss. When I want to rule you, I will. You have no say in the matter.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I barked. “Just don’t do it.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  Now I wanted to punish her for disobeying me. I wanted to hurt her for coming here. I wanted to break her for crossing the line. “On your feet.”