Ameer (The Brothers Ali Book 5) Page 15

  “And I know that’s my fault, Siobhan, but I do have the right to know who you have around him.”

  It took everything in Siobhan not to lose it.

  “You vacated your right to have an opinion when you decided not to step up and be the man your son needed you to be.”

  “What if I wanted to change that,” Tyrese asked.

  Although Siobhan had an inkling of what Tyrese meant, she needed him to say it, to be clear.

  “Change what?” Siobhan simmered, folding her arms across her chest.

  “The fact that my son doesn’t know me. What if I want him to?”

  “Why now?”

  Tyrese expected Siobhan to challenge him. Her question, though, hit him hard. Why now, why did he make the decision that now was the time?

  “Don’t answer,” Siobhan scoffed. “You and I both know why.”

  Spinning on her heels, Siobhan walked away from Tyrese.

  She spun on her heels, defiantly when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “What?!”

  “Please, give me a chance to make things right,” Tyrese reasoned.

  “You’ve had six years of chances.”

  When Siobhan turned towards her house again, Messiah stood in the doorway. Her heart dropped. Tyrese looked hopeful. She walked faster down the walkway.

  “Come on. Let’s go inside,” she insisted, scooting Messiah back as she crossed the threshold. Siobhan tried to keep the contempt she felt for Tyrese out of her voice while dealing with her son. When the door closed, Tyrese had no choice but to walk away. True, he could have tried to force the situation by knocking on the door and confronting Siobhan. For the first time in a long time, he thought about more than himself. He didn’t want his first real encounter with his son to be adversarial. He put Messiah first and walked away, hoping that with time, maybe he would get the chance he now knew he wanted. Her question as to his motivation for coming around, wanting more, haunted Tyrese with every step he took.

  “Why were you at the door, Messiah?” Siobhan asked as she closed and locked the door behind them.

  “When I woke up, I called for you, but you didn’t answer. I went to your bedroom, but you weren’t there, so I thought you might be in the kitchen or something.”

  That made perfect sense.

  “I hope you weren’t afraid?”

  “No, hungry,” Messiah replied.

  “Well, good because I’m getting ready to fix all your favorites for breakfast.”

  Messiah followed closely behind his mother. When they got in the kitchen, he climbed onto the barstool by the island. Siobhan busied herself, pulling out all the fixings to get breakfast started.

  “Mommy, who was that man?”

  Siobhan’s heart lurched in her chest. Messiah’s question was one she never hoped she’d have to hear or answer. She wanted to say no one, that the man who existed on the periphery of her son’s life for all these years was absolutely no one. But that wasn’t true. Siobhan didn’t know what the right response was. Her heart literally broke in silence. She shifted uneasily, unsure how to respond. Nervous flutterings pricked her chest.

  “The guy outside? He was looking for directions, that’s all.”

  She hoped her answer would be enough to quell any more questions.

  “Do you wanna help me mix up the pancake batter?”

  “I sure do.”

  Messiah climbed down from the stool. Siobhan hated being dishonest with her son. She just couldn’t bring herself to tell Messiah the truth, not then.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two Weeks Later

  “What story do you want to hear tonight, Messiah?”

  “Can Mr. Ameer read to me tonight?” Messiah asked as Siobhan buttoned his pajama shirt.

  “Do you want to ask him?” Siobhan smiled.

  She felt Messiah restless under her touch as she finished up the last of the buttons. He couldn’t wait to trot out of his bedroom and up the hallway to the family room where Ameer sat.

  “Mr. Ameer, can you read my bedtime story?”

  “Are you sure you want me to? I know that’s a special time for you and your mother.”

  “I’m sure,” Messiah nodded. “Mommy said it's okay.”

  “Alright then, young king, lead the way.”

  Messiah reached his hand out to Ameer to help lift him off the couch. Ameer trailed behind Messiah as they made their way down the hall to his bedroom, where Siobhan sat on the edge of Messiah’s bed waiting for them. She and Ameer shared a smile. He was welcomed into their special time.

  “Messiah, what book do you want to read tonight?” Siobhan asked.

  “Hmmm,” he contemplated as he looked at the plethora of books on his shelves. “Got it!”

  Messiah reached on the shelf and pulled out the book, handing it to Ameer.

  “Oh, this looks good,” Ameer agreed. “Jaden Toussaint, the Greatest: The Quest for Screen Time, by Marti Dumas.”

  Messiah beat Ameer to his bed, climbing in and pulling his covers up. Siobhan arranged the pillows behind her son as he settled in. There was a chair in the corner of the room that Ameer pulled up alongside the bed, sitting down across from Siobhan.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Mmhmm,” Messiah hummed. “From the beginning,” Messiah smiled.

  When the youngster laced his fingers behind his head and rested back on the pillows, Ameer chuckled to himself. He read to Messiah, enjoying the story as it unfolded in front of him. After the third chapter, Messiah yawned. When Ameer paused, Messiah encouraged him to keep reading. By chapter five, Messiah slept soundly. Easing from the bed, Siobhan stood up, taking the time to tuck her son in, turn on the nightlight and kiss him sweetly on the forehead. Quietly, they exited the bedroom. Siobhan paused, closing the door, leaving a slight crack so she could hear if Messiah rustled.

  “That book was really good,” Ameer confided.

  “Do you want to borrow it?” Siobhan teased as they rounded the corner into the family room. “I can ask Messiah.”

  “Oh, you got jokes, huh?”

  “Sometimes,” she laughed.

  Ameer noticed, that even though Siobhan was laughing, it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Everything okay, beloved?”

  A heavy sigh passed through her lips. “How about a glass of wine,” Siobhan deflected.

  “Sure,” Ameer answered, still concerned that something was bothering her.

  He waited in the family room until she returned with the wine. Siobhan sat down next to Ameer on the couch, inclining herself to him as she passed him his glass. He watched as she took a long sip.

  “Talk to me, babe. I’m here to listen.”

  “You’ve never really asked about my son,” Siobhan began.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like how the whole situation came to be.”

  There was a tight place of anxiety in Siobhan’s heart. She paused a moment, hesitant about what Ameer might say.

  “I wanted you to be comfortable enough with me, with us, for you to tell me when you were ready. And even if that time never arrived, that was okay, too. I love you, Siobhan, and I love your son.”

  His unexpected response warmed her soul. Siobhan had only ever experienced love from a distance, never daring to go near it out of fear and protection. Who she thought she needed to protect was Messiah. Honestly, it was her heart she protected, too. Yet, hearing Ameer echo the sentiments of her heart, Siobhan’s heart swelled with a feeling she thought had long since died. He loved her and her son. She sat wordlessly next to him, her heart thrumming profoundly in her chest.

  “I love you, too, Ameer,” Siobhan breathed, fighting the hot press of tears that threatened to spill from her lids. “That’s why I want you to know the truth.” She had to fight hard against her overwhelming need to be close to him. Siobhan needed Ameer to know everything.

  Covetously, Ameer, wrapped his arm around her waist, and then leaned in, kissing her softly on the forehead
. Siobhan instantly felt the protective shield of his love for her. His dark eyes found her as his lips left her. For the longest moment, she looked back at him, searching his eyes for the reassurance she needed to continue to speak. Finding kindness and concern in his ebony eyes, Siobhan spoke.

  “Messiah is not my child by birth.”

  Hearing her own words gave Siobhan paused. She lifted her eyes to Ameer to see his response. She didn’t read shock in his eyes, which is what she expected. What she found was a loving touch, as Ameer placed his hand on hers.

  “Messiah is, was my sister’s son,” Siobhan continued, the words feeling thick and sad in her mouth as she spoke them.

  “Shortly after Safiya gave birth, there was a complication.” Siobhan swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

  “Before she died, while she was in labor with Messiah, Safiya made me promise to take care of her son. I didn’t understand why she was asking me to make that promise, but it was like she knew.”

  Tears blinded her beautiful brown eyes and choked her melodic voice.

  “It was like Safiya knew she wasn’t going to be here to take care of him.”

  She couldn’t hold back the cry that was in her soul. Siobhan wept openly. Ameer stayed right there with her, silently consoling her, giving her the space she needed to grieve. When Siobhan felt like she could continue, she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, took in a deep breath, and blew it out slowly.

  “My sister was married when Messiah was born. But his father didn’t want to care for him alone. He honored my sister’s desires, and I’ve been raising Messiah as my son ever since.”

  Siobhan’s brow creased with worry as a glazed look of despair spread over her face. A flash of sorrow-filled grief ripped through her. The anguish she felt swelled, shattering the last shreds of control.

  “Messiah doesn’t know.”

  Siobhan’s eyes darkened with pain as hot tears trembled on her lids before staining her cheeks. The agonizing maelstrom of emotions shook Siobhan to her core. As she felt her body racked from the tears she shed, Ameer swept her, weightless into the strength of his arms. When Siobhan lifted her eyes meeting his, the pain still flickered there. She dropped her lashes, trying to hide the heaviness centered in her soul. But he wouldn’t let her. Gently touching her chin, Ameer tilted Siobhan’s head, inclining her to him. His eyes searched Siobhan’s face, seemingly reaching into her thoughts. His gaze never wavered until she lifted her eyes to meet his. A look of exhausted sadness passed over her otherwise exquisite features, pricking Ameer’s heart so deeply, her hurt became his hurt.

  “Let me put you to bed,” He whispered.

  Siobhan didn’t have the energy for dissent. Reaching up, she laced her arms around Ameer’s neck, and he lifted her in the cradle of his arms as he stood to his full height. Siobhan’s head rested against his muscled chest as he carried her down the hall. When they reached Siobhan’s bed, Ameer lowered his frame, gently laying her down.

  “Don’t leave me, please,” she beckoned.

  Ameer stole a moment returning to the door of the bedroom, closing, and locking it. The few seconds he was away, Siobhan missed him; his nearness soothed the massive ache she had in her heart. When he climbed into the bed behind her, that feeling of comfort returned, as Ameer wrapped his arms around her, pulling Siobhan close, her body melding to his form, locking into his embrace.

  “I’m right here,” Ameer breathed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I love you,” she uttered, gently turning in his arms to face him. The fringe of Siobhan’s lush lashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she raised her mouth, hoping he would kiss her in return. When he did, Siobhan felt such immense relief. But it was more than his reflected love. She felt the kind of relief that honesty brings, an unburdening of the weight that lingered, prolonged in the recesses of her heart. It was a kiss for Siobhan’s long tired soul to melt into. Her emotions skidded and whirled as he kissed her again, lovingly, tenderly, easily.

  Ameer enveloped her and pulled Siobhan in close, courting her senses with gentle persuasiveness but only after he looked into the depths of her brown eyes, seeing that she wanted more of him.

  “Are you sure,” Ameer uttered against the fullness of her lips.

  Her eyes said yes. Her body said yes. Siobhan’s heart screamed, yes. Her soul cried yes before her lips uttered, “yes.”

  Their mouths connected once more, first lightly, then profoundly as he tasted her tongue while she tasted his. Ameer liked the juices, textures, the spices of her. He needed to taste more than her mouth. She wanted more of him, too. She reached for the tail of his t-shirt, lifting it the length of him with Ameer helping the remainder of the way until his chiseled chest, broad shoulders, thickly corded arms were fully revealed. Siobhan’s t-shirt was next. Ameer eased her shirt up, grazing the swell of her breasts. Siobhan lifted her arms, giving him the ease of removing it fully.

  When his hands found her flesh, Ameer slid a finger under the silky strap of her bra, sliding the straps off the curves of her shoulders, first one then the other, leaving a trail of tantalizing possessive kisses from her lips, down her neck, and to her center. Siobhan moaned as her body responded to Ameer’s masterful touch. Her breasts surged behind the intimacy of his mouth, caressing her swollen nipples. His hands seared a path down Siobhan’s abdomen that his mouth mimicked, sending currents of desire ebbing through her core. Ameer traced the outline of her pajama bottoms, his ardor, touching surprisingly restrained. He paused to kiss her belly, whispering sweet nothings as he eased the fabric barriers that covered her body. His large hands skimmed the curve of her hips and down the thick of her thighs, relieving her of her clothing. Siobhan writhed with the vacancy of his touch as Ameer eased from the bed, removing everything that could keep him from experiencing her fully. She felt the weight of his presence as he moved between her thighs, breathing deeply, taking in her essence. The first kiss to her jewel sent a surge of heated energy to Siobhan’s core.

  “Ah,” she panted.

  Parting her lips with his fingers, Ameer delved inside her folds with his tongue. Siobhan’s back arched without prompting. He plunged deeper, filling her walls, and licking her throbbing clit. Ameer pulled away, separating his lips from her flesh and then blew softly. Siobhan quivered and clawed at the sheets balling the fabric under her tightening fists. When his mouth reconnected with her quaking jewel, Ameer lapped up the love juices Siobhan so freely surrendered. He wasn’t in any rush. Ameer wanted to explore her, arouse her, give her every pleasure she so deserved.

  Siobhan whimpered.

  Her nipples hardened as Ameer titillated her g-spot over and over again. Unable to hold out any longer, Ameer slithered up the length of her, his virile masculinity finding her delicate softness waiting.

  “Ummmm,” he hummed as the heat from her box met his thickness. Wrapping her legs around his muscular back, Siobhan pulled Ameer in. They fell in sync as she moved her hips circularly, filling her womanly walls. Ameer’s aching arousal throbbed. She offered new wetness coating him. He couldn’t get enough of her, rocking Siobhan with the intensity of his thrusts. When she moaned again, he lifted her slightly and raised onto his knees. The sound of their bodies connecting and reconnecting as only matched by the moans and groans escaping their lips. The bed rocked under the thunder of Ameer’s manhood, pushing the top of Siobhan’s jewel, even though they were careful to be as quiet as possible.

  Siobhan reached for him. But Ameer’s stroke deepened. She fell back onto the bed, grabbing and gripping whatever her hands could hold.

  “Ameer,” she breathed as he leaned forward, lifting her higher and sending her senses reeling into senselessness. The pace was slow, intentional, their bodies assuaging harmoniously. Siobhan’s thighs were wet with sweat, and her eyes rolled inside her head as Ameer sent her on a wave of ecstasy.

  “I love you,” he uttered as his body convulsed from the pressure building inside him. Siobhan boiled
over, no longer in control, matching his explosiveness with a coating of sweet sticky nectar. The surge of orgasm was mind-numbing. Spent, Ameer collapsed on top of her. Siobhan folded her arms around him. Ameer had unlocked her heart and soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “What about Messiah?”

  That’s the question Ameer asked Siobhan after they made powerful love to each other. That’s the question she pondered after Ameer left before her son woke up. That same question resonated in her spirit throughout the day. Siobhan still felt bad for being dishonest with Messiah when he initially asked about Tyrese. She didn’t know what to say, how to respond, what he would think, how he would react. Would he be angry with her for not telling him sooner? Would he hate her for not being his mother? Would Messiah be sad, angry, heartbroken knowing his real mother died after giving birth to him?

  Those thoughts are what kept Siobhan quiet for the past few years. She never wanted to cause Messiah pain, pain that was bigger than him, older than his understanding. Siobhan was an adult, and it was even hard for her to comprehend the tragedy that precipitates the blessing of having Messiah for a son. There had been times when the question would come up from her mother or father. Naturally, they had opinions about how the situation should be handled. Yet, neither wanted to hurt their grandson. They had the same questions, the same concerns, the same fears as Siobhan.

  But now confronting the truth seemed inevitable. But when? How? Every time Siobhan thought about broaching the subject with Messiah, she felt physically ill. The entirety of the day, her stomach was upset, tumultuous. When she thought about eating, her stomach soured. A throbbing headache surfaced the later in the day it got. The thought of talking about it with Messiah terrified Siobhan, but she had to do it.

  “I’m ready for my bedtime story, mommy.”

  An unyielding sense of foreboding descended in Siobhan’s spirit.

  “I have a bedtime story, but it’s not in a book,” she began as she sat down on his bed, sitting a photograph down behind her.