Hewitt: Jagged Edge Series #1 (16 page)

"Don't look at me that way, Lawrence. I didn’t say anything to Lilly," she said.

Standing on my feet, I looked at both of them. "The information didn't come from either one of you. I just want to know the truth about my past."

My dad was now pacing the floor, drawing his hand through his thick gray hair. "We should have told you a long time ago. Please sit, Lilly, and I will tell you everything."

Taking a seat on the couch, I waited for him to explain.

"Your mother and I couldn't have children of our own, so we went through the process of adopting one. We always hoped to have a little girl, so when we were informed by the adoption agency that they knew of a little girl who needed a home, we became interested. You were only four at the time. We loved you the minute we saw you. About a year later, on your fifth birthday, we brought you home."

"What about my real mom? I want to know about her," I asked.

My dad took a seat next to me as my mom moved closer to me on the other side. “They said that your mom was in a bad place. She was a drug addict. The lady from Family Services said your mom didn't even fight them when they took you away."

"Is she still alive?" I questioned.

"I don't know. We’ve never met her, nor have we ever heard from her," my mom chimed in.

"What is her name?" I asked hesitantly.

“Diana Walker," Dad said.

"Do you know if I have any brothers or sisters?" I asked, looking back and forth between them.

"You have a brother. He’s a bit older than you. Other than him, there were no other siblings," he said lowering his head.

"What happened to him?"

"I’m not sure. Something happened at the foster home, he was at. They wouldn't tell us since we weren't family.”

"What is his name?" I asked, feeling my eyes begin to water.

Taking me by the hand, my dad said, "Adam."

When I let The Ritz, my heart was filled with sorrow. I had a brother and I couldn't remember him. My mom and dad said they adopted me when I was five, but I couldn’t remember anything before then. I couldn’t even remember what my real mom looked like. I wondered if she was even still alive. I knew my dad and mom loved me, and it really shouldn't matter what happened in my past, but I really wanted to know.

~****~

Walking down the hall to my condo, I could see that Cop was talking to Brie outside her door. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked past them. "Hey Brie," I said, without acknowledging Cop. I took the keys from my bag, opened my door, and went inside before Cop could lay into me about disappearing. I’d had all the drama I could deal with for one day. Dropping my bag on the floor, I headed to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. More than anything, I needed to sort out the information from the day. Sitting on my couch, I took my laptop from the table and placed it on my lap.

If what my parents said about my real mother was true, I knew there had to be some information about her on the Internet. I pulled up the Internet, and went to my favorite search engine. Typing in 'Diane Walker,' the search wheel began to spin. When the wheel stopped, the results appeared. I couldn't believe there were so may Diane Walkers in New York. Scrolling down the search hits, I found the one link that might give me the information I needed.
'Woman faces five to ten in drug bust.’
Clicking on the link, I scrolled down to the story.
‘ A Homeless woman by the name of Diane Walker made a deal with the NYPD for information relating to a drug deal gone bad in Queens. According to Diane Walker, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Considering her state of mind, Ms. Walker's testimony is still under investigation. Having recently been stripped of her parental right by the state of New York, Walker was hesitant to cooperate. The names of her children have been withheld.’

Even though the article was twenty years old, at least it gave me something to go on. It was getting late and my eyes were beginning to sting from the research I did on the Net. Closing down my laptop, I placed it back on the coffee table. Grabbing my bag, I searched for my phone as I walked to my room. There were six text messages from Peter asking me where I was and why I hadn’t texted back or called. It was the last one that got me, though.
Lilly, please call me or text me back. I need to know that you're okay. God, Lilly please.
I lifted the phone to my ear and waited for him to answer. I figured the least I could do was let him know that I was okay.

"Lilly, thank God, you had me going fucking crazy," Peter blurted.

"I needed to talk to my parents," I said.

“Why didn’t you let me know? Did they tell you what you needed to know?" he asked

"Yeah, I'm tired, Peter. Can we talk tomorrow?"

"I'll be over in the morning. Sleep tight," he said, before hanging up.

Throwing my phone on the bed, I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and got ready for bed. Finding my favorite pajamas, I slipped them on and crawled into bed. I thought for sure I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but my mind went into overdrive as I began thinking about everything that happened. Even though Peter knew about my real mom and kept it from me, I couldn't blame him for not wanting me to know the truth. I was the child of a drug addict. Who in their right mind would want to know that? Still, it was something that I needed to know about. There were so many things I wanted to know that only my real mom could answer. I wanted to know about my brother and what he was like. I wanted to know why she chose the life she did, still bringing me into her shitty world.

The more I thought about everything, the more it made me wonder how Pierre knew about my adoption and my past. Maybe Peter was right about Pierre, maybe he was obsessed with me. He certainly made it his priority to find out about my past.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lilly

It was no surprise that I slept as late as I did. It was well after two in the morning by the time I finally fell asleep. Pushing from my bed, I headed to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth. As I was finishing up my duty, there was a knock at the front door. Pulling up my pajama bottoms, I hurried to the door. Just like he said, Peter was standing on the other side with a brown paper bag that I assumed was filled with bagels from the bakery down the street.

Grabbing the bag from him, I left him at the door and made my way to the kitchen. I set the bag on the counter while I grabbed two mugs from the cupboard; Peter was already by my side when I turned to fill the mugs. Placing his hands over my messy bun, he pulled out the hair tie and let my hair fall. The smile on his face told me what he wanted. Pushing him away, I said, "Food first, then sex."

I could tell he wasn't happy with my plan by the way his bottom lip curled over his top one. He was so cute when he pouted. Even so, I was starving. Taking my cup of Java and the bag of bagels, I rounded the breakfast bar and took a seat. Pulling out the cream cheese, and my favorite bagel, covered in cinnamon and sugar, I layered on the cream cheese. We sat in silence as I began devouring the delicious masterpiece I created.

By the time I had the last bite of my bagel down, I was stuffed. Leaning back in my chair, I padded my belly and confessed, "I am so full I could explode."

Peter must have interpreted my words in a different way, because he leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Playtime."

Before I could protest, he lifted me from my seat and had me over his shoulder like a caveman. Slapping his back, I said, "Wait, Peter."

Stopping in his tracks, he said, "Oh no, you are not getting out of this."

I couldn't help but laugh. He always had a way of making me smile. It wasn't long before we were stripped out of our clothing and lying on my unmade bed. Taking my hands, Peter lifted them above my head and began kissing me. He stopped only to kiss the remaining bruising which was now the color of yellow mixed with green. I knew what Pierre did to me bothered him. Peter told me what he did to Pierre when he saw what happened to me. I didn't think violence was the way to handle things, but Peter laying into him was justly deserved.

My thoughts were shaken when Peter's mouth clamped around my nipple. With a slight tug of my nipple between his teeth, my body was filled with a need only he could satisfy. As I struggled to be freed so I could wrap my arms around him, Peter's grip tightened around my wrists. "Peter, please. I need to touch you."

"Not yet, baby. It's all about control,” he whispered.

Peter's mouth lowered further down my body. I could feel every muscle in my being stimulated as every soft wet kiss hit my body. I was on fire with desire for this man. Lowering his mouth further yet, his tongue was on my clit, making slow circular movements around the hard nub. It was driving me crazy not being able to touch him. When he slipped two of his fingers inside me, my willpower gave way. All of the tension I had been carrying dissipated as my orgasm took hold.

Peter waited until my body calmed before he released my hands and let me hold him. As he softly kissed me, my tears finally escaped. Peter placed gentle kisses over each eye as if to soothe my breakdown. "Shh... it’s okay, baby. I'm here."

It was all I needed to hear. He was here. With me. Making love to me. The warmth of his hand slid down my body. Guiding his shaft to my entrance, he slowly entered me with no rush or demand. Only slow, tender movements were delivered as he eased his way deeper and deeper inside me. He knew my body and what I needed. Once again, my body shuddered as my release filled my body. His soon followed with three words of confession, "I love you."

~****~

We must have lain in bed for hours, just holding one another. I felt safe next to him. I knew Peter would never let anything bad happen to me. Lying next to him, listening to the beating of his heart, I knew he was the only person I could trust. I knew he was the only person I trusted to help me find my real mom. Taking in a deep breath, I pushed away from his body, propping myself onto my elbows. Looking down at him, I saw the man who just confessed his love for me. Swiping a stray hair from his forehead, I continued to stare at his beautiful face.

Startling me, he whispered, "The way you’re looking at me, I get the impression you want to ask me something"

While his eyes were still closed, I lowered my hands and placed my chin on them and asked, "How could you tell that I wanted to ask you something with your eyes closed?"

"That, baby," he began, flipping me over so I was now on my back with him on top. "Is because, I can feel it in your heartbeat, in your breath. So spill?"

"My mom and dad told me who my real mother was. I want you to help me find her," I asked nervously.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? What if you find something you wish you didn’t? I know how these things turn out, Lilly. I don’t want you to be disappointed or worse, hurt,” Peter said.

"I have no choice, Peter. I needed to find answers. I need to know the truth about her and why she let me go so freely."

After a two more bouts of sex and a mind-blowing blow job in the shower, Peter finally agreed to help me. With the connections he had, I knew he would be able to get the information I needed to find out if she was even still alive, and where she might be living.

It was close to noon by the time we finished with our shower, and left my condo. There was one thing that concerned me about Pierre: if he lived across the street, he would know when I left and when I came back. This made my heart beat faster, knowing that he knew my every move.

As we crossed the street to where Peter's Camaro was parked, I looked up at the apartment building wondering if Pierre was watching us at this very moment. Peter must have felt my uneasiness. He squeezed my hand and said, "I know what you're thinking, Lilly. You don't need to worry about Pierre. He no longer lives across from you."

"Where does he live?" I asked, as Peter opened the passenger door for me.

"You don't need to worry about that either. If he comes within fifty feet of you, I'll know," he reassured me, lowering his lips to mine.

I couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that unless he was having one of his guys keep an eye on him. Buckling my seat belt, I took one last look at the tall building before Peter pulled away from the curb. It didn't matter what time of day it was, the traffic in Manhattan was close to unbearable. You wouldn't be able to tell by the way Peter effortlessly weaved in and out of it. Before long, we were out of the city and heading towards Queens. It was the first place I thought to look. Peter agreed with me after making a few phone calls while I got ready.