Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story


- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:

August 18, 2017

Sometimes, the truth is a bitter pill to swallow. 

Mood Music: After the Storm by Kali Uchis 




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


This trip was never fated to be an easy one. Sugar understood that now and felt foolish for thinking any different. There had been a slither of hope within her as she had clung to the possibility of Miles and his father would put their differences aside and mend their broken relationship with a teary-eyed resolution like a Hallmark movie scene. But that was before she had met Rene and Clara Thibodeau in the flesh. That was before she learned that his father was Satan incarnate and his mother was a strong contender for the Mommy Dearest award. That was before she stopped her baby’s father from sending his father to the morgue.

Now, it was a new day. A fact she couldn’t quite appreciate as she had laid in the stiff motel bed all night, her mind running amuck and working against her exhausted body—Miles’ words eating at her bit by bit, leeching the natural urge to sleep from her.

“We need closure. We deserve closure. I ain’t lettin’ him go this time. I’m gonna get it outta him.”

What did that mean? What was he planning to do? How far would he go?

Sugar had theories, but none of them were good ones. None of them possessed the potential outcome of all parties involved walking away without a bloody nose, a black eye, or worse. A wad of tissue helped with a bloody nose. A bag of ice helped a black eye. But she had no remedy for the deep psychological wounds marring his soul. The ones he had been so willing to show her since the very beginning. The ones that were reopening before her very eyes on this trip.

Dammit, she felt so useless.

She lolled her head in his direction, eyeing the back of his head. Last night was the first time he hadn’t held her in his arms. She didn’t blame him. He wanted his space and the six inches of space between them was a temporary remedy she gave him…even if it felt like they were an ocean apart.

She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, fighting the urge to touch him. Instead, she climbed out of the bed and went into the bathroom to begin her morning routines, needing to inject a morsel of normalcy into her life. She splashed cool water onto her face to awaken her senses before she went about the task of brushing her teeth and gurgling mouthwash. Once she was finished, she decided to take a shower. Fishing out a neatly packed showercap from her toiletry travel bag, she slipped it on.

Making her way over to the tub, she pushed aside the creamy shower curtain and turned on the water before she tugged on the faucet’s tab to start shower. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she heard the rush of water redirect itself towards the showerhead, a whistling sound filling the air as if the journey was a treacherous one. There was a notable lag before the water sprinkled from the showerhead with strength equivalent to a baby’s sneeze.

“No to a shower then,” she muttered as she pressed the tab back down to let the hot water to fill up the tub. When the water reached a satisfactory height, she twisted the knob. After stripping down to nothing, she was about to step inside the tub when the door creaked open.

She turned halfway, watching as Miles entered into bathroom.

“Morning,” she greeted, her smile weak. “Want in?”

Stepping out of his boxers, he took her offer without uttering a single word. He got into the tub first and she found herself a home in between his legs, snuggling her bare back against his chest.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Sleep well?”

Miles had taken it upon himself to lather up a loofah with some bar soap and brushed it along her shoulder’s curve, speaking to her in a tired gruff voice, “No better than you did.”

“I missed sleeping in our bed is all. That bed in there is an…acquired taste,” she said.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

“It’s good to know you’re gettin’ little better with lyin’,” Miles replied, his soft rumbly voice oozed with mild amusement. “I just ‘bout almost believed it.”

Sugar rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep at it to make you proud.”

He chuckled gently, the vibrations tickling her back. It was good to know that she could make him laugh. She felt a bit less useless.

Once his chuckles died down, a silence fell between them as he lifted up her arm and washed it with the frothy loofah from her shoulder to her fingers.

“You need to stop worryin’ about me. It ain’t good for the baby,” he finally spoke.

Sugar frowned. “I have every right to worry, Miles. You and your father nearly got into a brawl in his hospital room.”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that in front of you.”

Her frown deepened and cocked an eyebrow at his choice of words, peering her shoulder to lock gazed with him. “So, if you don’t think you should have done it in front of me, does that mean you’re all the more willing to do it if I’m not there, Miles?”

Miles tilted his head, running his tongue along his teeth as he eyed her carefully and considered her question. “How I deal with my father—with my parents—is my business.”

She blinked her eyes, snorting a laugh at his audacity. “Your business? No, Miles. It’s my business as much as it is yours now. You told your mother that I am your other half, well that means your burdens are my burdens too. If I hadn’t held you back yesterday, you would’ve beat the hell out of your father. Now, I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it to get his ass handed to him, but there are consequences to that. You say me worrying isn’t good for the baby? Well, you going to jail for attacking hospitalized father isn’t good for the baby either.”

Her gaze softened. “There has to be a better way to get you the closure you and Alicia deserve. If Rene isn’t going to tell you the truth willingly then there has to be something out there you can hold against him. Something that’ll make him desperate and leave him with no longer choice.”

Miles tilted his head back against the tiled wall, closing his eyes. “Beatin’ within an inch of his life out is the better way.”

She exhaled, “What’s a better legal way that doesn’t involve violence and a court trial?”

His eyelids snapped open suddenly as if a lightbulb appeared above his head, lit and blazing bright. “What did you just say, honey?”

“I said what’s the legal way of going about this?”

He turned his eyes at the bathroom door, a plan brewing up in his mind as he ran his fingers through his damp hair.

Sugar arched an eyebrow. “What? What’s wrong?”

A grin spilled across his lips and he leaned in, kissing her—catching her off-guard completely. She accepted the affectionate gesture even as her face scrunched in utter confusion at his sudden change of mood. When their mouths broke apart, she stared at him in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“Givin’ me the ammunition I needed to burn that bastard’s world down to the goddamn ground.”

Her eyebrows shot upward at his choice of words, opening her mouth to protest.

He smirked and added reassuringly, “The legal way.”

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Miles had kept her in the dark about his world-burning blueprint to getting his father to confess the truth about Melina’s final phone call. After he had taken her to a diner for breakfast, he had returned her to the motel, so he could meet with a fellow named Herbert Landry, who was described to her as an old family friend. As she anxiously awaited his return, the meeting stretched on into the afternoon. Just after two o’clock, he sauntered through the motel room door.

She popped up from the bed like a daisy. “Well?”

“The meetin’ went as I had expected it to,” he answered.

Sugar asked eagerly, “Care to feel me in?”

He arched a bushy eyebrow. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

She huffed, “Miles.”

“Trust me, honey. You’ll find out what’s up my sleeve,” he promised, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close. “You’ll have a front row seat to it.”

He landed a kiss on her lips, a tactic to ease her nerves no doubt. “Afterwards, I wanna take you to an ol’ waterin’ hole of mine to celebrate. You can dust off one of ‘em dresses of yours that’ll make every man wish you were his.”

“I didn’t pack any of those,” she replied. “Only trash bags.”

He chuckled at their little inside joke before he captured her lips once more, dragging her into a soft kiss that turned feverish within moments. However, their passionate display was cut short as his front pocket vibrated against her.

She glanced down to his crotch. “Teach your dick a new trick?”

He smirked as he retrieved his phone and just before he accepted the incoming call, he said, “This old dog had good motivation to learn a new trick.”

The call was a brief exchange, a confirmation of a place and time. The place being the hospital and the time was poised for twenty minutes from now. Soon enough, they had piled into his car and drove over to the hospital. Once they had arrived at his father’s hospital door, Miles rattled his fingers against it and waited for a reply.

“Come on in,” Clara called from within the room.

Miles briefly glanced at Sugar before he opened the door. The scene was nearly identical to yesterday as sour-faced Rene sat in his hospital bed flipping through television channels with a remote and Clara sat beside him reading a glossy gossip magazine. She was the first to note their arrival. Yesterday, she had been excited to see her only child. Today, however, she was shocked with a hint of worry. She cut her eyes from them to her husband nervously and cleared her throat to get Rene’s attention.

“Renard, you came back,” Clara said, shifting her attention from him to Sugar, “and with your other half, I see. We all gonna play nice today?”

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Miles assured as he and Sugar sat down the two empty chairs on the opposite side of the room left from yesterday. “The question is can you vouch he’ll be on his?”

Clara parted her lips to speak, but Rene beat his wife to the punch. “I can vouch for myself, boy. I ain’t lost my voice.”

“Much the pity,” Miles returned calmly.

Sugar chewed on her bottom lip, witnessing everything unfold and praying that Miles’ plan—whatever it may be—would work.

Rene snapped, “What’s a pity is you trottin’ yourself back in here like today’s gonna be any different from yesterday or three years ago. I ain’t sayin’ shit, ya hear? Now, go on somewhere before you get your feelings hurt, boy!”

Miles clenched his jaw for a moment, restraining himself from acting upon a primal urge to lash back. Sugar placed her hand on his as a sign of support—as a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“Today ain’t gonna be like yesterday or three years ago,” he stated. “Let’s try a different approach by actin’ like rational adults for a change. Unless that’s too hard for you to handle?”

Rene curled his lip as he hawked a wad of spit and shot it into a peachy pink hospital-issued plastic cup. “Sorry, hearin’ bullshit makes me throw up from time to time.”

“Hope that symptom passes in,” Miles said, glancing his wristwatch, “five or so minutes.”

Relevantly uninterested in the exchange between her husband and son, Clara finally bud into the conversation when he mentioned the timeline. “What’s happenin’ in five minutes?”

Miles nodded his head towards the door. “An old family friend is payin’ us a visit.”

Clara eyed her son for a long moment, closing her magazine and crossing one leg over the other. “And who might that be? ‘Cause all your daddy’s friends have already paid him a visit.”

His eyebrows shot upward in mock surprise. “All three of ‘em? Good to know, they still care.”

Rene narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Sugar’s heart leapt in her chest as someone knocked on the door.

“Looks like he’s here a little early,” Miles replied while everyone watched the hospital door open as a plump light-skinned green-eyed black man in his seventies with liver spots shuffled into the room in a brown suit, a briefcase, and a bouquet of flowers.

Clara widened her eyes in shock. “Herb?”

The balding man grinned, showing off his pearly white set of dentures. “Good to see you, Clara.”

She stood up from her seat and went to him, giving him a polite hug and kissed both of his cheeks. “It’s good to see you too.”

After the hug broke apart, Herbert put down his briefcase and walked over to hospital bed and offered Rene the bouquet. “Good to see you’re still alive and kickin’, Rene.”

Rene scoffed. “What in the hell am I gonna do with a bouquet of flowers, Herb? I ain’t a goddamn Miss America runner-up.”

“You might have a chance if you showed some gratitude when someone does somethin’ nice for you, Rene,” Herbert said, “now take the damn flowers or you get beat with ‘em. I ain’t the one.”

Rene snatched the bouquet from Herbert, grumbling under his breath.

Herbert looked over at Miles and Sugar, his eyes falling upon Sugar. A wide smile spilled onto his lips as he waddled over and took her hands into his, kissing them. “You must be Sugar. Renard told me a lot about you. Tu es beau.”

Sugar smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Landry.”

Clara snapped her attention to Miles suspiciously, “Mind tellin’ us what’s goin’ on, Herb?”

“Ain’t it obvious, Clara? He thinks I got one foot in the grave, so he tryin’ to see if he’s in my will. Why else would he call the family attorney,” Rene growled.

Herbert let go of Sugar’s hands and went to his briefcase, making his way across the room to a windowsill wide enough to put his briefcase on. “Well, you’re half-right. I am here about a will, but it ain’t yours.”

Rene’s expression soured even more. “If not mine then whose?”

Herbert unclasped the briefcase, plucking a leather glasses case from within to retrieve thick-lensed readers. “Louisa’s.”

His parents jerked their shocked gazes to Miles. Even Sugar looked at him at Herbert’s revelation. Louisa was Miles’ grandmother and Rene’s mother. She passed away shortly after a teenaged Miles joined the military.

“What the hell is goin’ on,” Rene snapped. “What kind of bullshit are you tryna pull, boy?”

Herbert picked up two separate stapled packets of paper from his briefcase and flopped it in his hands. “Renard requested that I stop by to refresh and clarify the wishes of how Louisa wished for her estate to be handled.”

Rene barked, “Twenty-eight years later?”

Clara shook her head, her shock melting into a breed of disappointment as she looked at Miles as if she had finally caught on to what this was all about. “We already know how Mama Louisa wanted things to be. We were all there in your office, Herb, the day after the funeral.”

Herbert arched a thin eyebrow. “So, then you know that you and Rene inheirted the family’s residential estate, but Renard was to inherit Thibodeau’s.”

Sugar’s jaw dropped, her eyes growing in size.

“We came to an agreement,” Clara hissed, her face reddening.

“A temporary arrangement,” Herbert corrected.

Clara scoffed, “A twenty-eight-year-old temporary arrangement!”

Herbert sighed, adjusting his glasses, “It doesn’t matter how long the arrangement was, Clara. It’s well within Renard’s rights terminate it. Though the contract was unique in nature, you three agreed upon it. When Louisa passed away, Renard had already made his commit to serve his country therefore making it difficult for him to give the family’s business the care and attention it deserved. Therefore, it was agreed by all that you two would manage the day-to-day operations and be paid handsomely from your efforts until Renard was able to commit to the role.”

Now you’re able to commit, Renard? This is our livelihood,” Clara huffed loudly, shooting up from her chair. “If you do this, your daddy and I will have nothin’!”

“You’ll have the house,” Miles returned, unfazed by his mother’s temper tantrum.

“Which means nothin’ without money for food or bills, Renard,” she said. “How could you even consider this?”

Miles leaned back in his chair and cocked his head, his demeanor cool and calm. “I’m done bein’ nice.”

“Herbert, get the hell out now,” Clara snapped.

Herbert put the papers back into his briefcase, he too unconcerned by Clara’s behavior as if it were a daily occurrence. “I’ll be at the hospital cafeteria if you need me. I feel my blood sugar gettin’ low.”

Then he was gone.

“Since your daddy quiet as a field mouse over there, I’ll do his job for him,” Clara growled, jerking her head in Rene’s direction, “and ask in the hell do you want, Miles Renard? How can we make all this go away?”

Rene then chuckled. Softly at first then louder and more vibrant. “You know what he wants, Clara. Why even bother askin’?”

On the verge of panic attack, Clara ordered harshly, “Then tell him the goddamn truth, Rene. Swallow your fuckin’ pride and just do it! I’m tired of this! Tell ‘im the truth. Tell all of us the truth before we lose everything we’ve worked so hard for.”

Sugar repeated, “All of us?”

Clara finally settled her eyes on her son’s other half. “You think I knew what Rene and Melina spoke about during that phone call? Naw, sweetheart. I’ve been tryin’ to get it out of him for years. I’m in the dark just like everyone else, but no more.”

Rene clenched his jaw as a sign of resistance, which prompted Clara to march over to him, slapping her husband hard. “Do it, Rene! Stop tryin’ to protect him!”

Miles narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean ‘stop tryin’ to protect him’? I know you ain’t talkin’ about me.”

Rene growled, “Of course, it’s you, boy! Everything I did, I did for you! Even when you didn’t even know it. You think Melina just called me up outta the blue? Naw. Once upon a time, we talked just about every damn week. She just deleted our calls from her phone log, so you and Alicia wouldn’t find out.”

Shock crept over Miles’ face.

“The first time, though, she did call me up outta nowhere. She was cryin’, talkin’ killin’ herself. Felt like she had no one to talk to. You were overseas. Alicia was always worried about her, hovering over her. I had her on the phone ‘bout three hours tryin’ to calm her down. Tryin’ to convince her that her life was worth livin’. She begged me not to tell Alicia about her episode and I told her I wouldn’t as long as she did right. Hung up on me and I thought that was the end of that. Until a week later, she called me up to thank me for talkin’ her off the ledge,” Rene admitted, leaning back in his hospital bed.

He stroked his head as he recalled those memories, staring up at the ceiling as if they were playing out before his eyes. “It became a little ritual of ours. We’d talk about the little things. We’d talk about everythin'. I encouraged her to stop spendin’ so much time talkin’ to old man like me and go out and make friends her own age. She listened. Made some friends in ‘em community college classes no time. Alicia was givin’ her some space. She was takin’ her medicine. The therapy sessions were goin’ good, but she still wanted to talk to me. She wanted to get to know her granddaddy. I thought maybe when I burned my bridge with you that meant I couldn’t get to her, but she wanted me to be a part of her life.”

Rene’s eyes reddened up, glistening as he recounted. “Well, her friends helped her make other friends. Then she started askin’ for money. Alicia was givin’ her an allowance, but it wasn’t enough to hang out with her friends. So, I’d spend her some money. It was our little secret. Then she started askin’ a little more and a little more. I didn’t think anything of it. ‘Til I found out she was doin’ drugs and drinkin’. She accidentally texted me some mess about gettin’ high at a party. I got on her good. Told her I’d tell you and Alicia, but she said she’d straighten up. I believed her until a few weeks later, she called me cryin’ again. I thought she was thinkin’ ‘bout killin’ herself again, but she called me ‘cause she needed money. She got pregnant by some boy at one of ‘em parties and she wanted money for an abortion.”

Sugar’s mouth dropped open as she listened, a surreal horror clenching her as she processed and visualized everything Rene spoke.

Drugs? Underage drinking? Partying? Sex? Pregnancy? All these things were happening underneath Alicia’s and Miles’ noses.

Clara lowered herself back into her chair, gazing at her husband in utter shock while shaking her head in disbelief. “Rene,” she trailed off.

Sugar glanced to Miles worriedly, who had turned as pale as a ghost and trembled slightly, his hands tight in fists, veins bulging from his arms and neck from restraint as he, too, absorbed his father’s words—the truth he wanted to be told.

Rene shook his head, closing his eyelids. “Melina didn’t want the baby and you were set come to see her on leave. I gave her the money and told her that it was my last time givin’ her money. This was the last time I was gonna keep somethin’ from you and Alicia. After she got the money, it was radio silence for weeks. I tried callin’ her to check up on here, but she wouldn’t answer. I got tired of waitin’, so I texted her and told her that if she didn’t call me back then I was gonna tell everything.”

He snapped his fingers. “And just like that, she called me. She had gone to the abortion clinic almost immediately after gettin' the money and it had traumatized her. There were religious nuts outside with picket signs, harassing people tryin’ to get inside. Some of ‘em cornered her, threatening her, but some lady helped her out of that. It was policy that there was a waiting period for abortions. So, she had to wait a few days to be sure it was what she wanted. The more she thought about it, the more she spiraled, but she did it, which made her even more depressed.”

“She stopped takin’ her medicine. Started shuttin’ you and Alicia out. Stopped goin’ to her therapy sessions, but she kept talkin’ to me. Every time I threatened to tell ya’ll the truth, she’d threaten to end it all. She held that over my head. Then one day, I got a call from her and I instantly knew it was different.”

Miles shot up from his chair, putting both hands atop of his head and squeezed his eyes shut—visibly sick and shaken. His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out harshly.

“She was so soft and tired, but she wanted to talk about one person. You. For two hours, we only talked about you, Renard. She wanted to know everythin’ about you like she didn’t know you at all. Then she said things that hurt me deep. Things that made me think. Things that made me realize all the wrongs I’ve done. She put me blast. Told me I was terrible father to you and how that changed the person you could’ve been. How she knew even though you loved her, you abandoned her in your own way just like I did to you,” Rene continued on, his voice raw with emotional as he succumbed to the tears he had held back.

Rene looked at his son, tears running down his bearded face. “My own daddy wouldn’t give me the time of day. It was Thibodeau’s or nothin’. Being a musician was a fool’s errand to him, but I rebelled. I drank and did drugs. I ran away to follow my dreams. You rebelled too, runnin’ off to join the Marines. It was like everythin’ made sense. It was a generational curse that I started. She used sex, drugs, and liquor as a way to fill an emptiness inside her ‘cause you couldn’t be there, Alicia was there too much, and she blamed herself for makin’ ya’ll break apart. And knowing that, tore her apart, but as I was havin’ my own goddamn breakthrough, I thought I was havin’ a breakthrough with her. We ended the call on a positive note, but she made me promise to take everything we talked about that day to my grave.”

Sugar bit a quivering lip, sniffling as a tear ran down her cheek.

The truth was Melina thought Miles was like his father, chasing after dreams to prove a point. Everything Miles was as a man was due to his parents’ abandoning him. She thought Miles abandoned her in his own way, which turned her into what she was. She rebelled and got pregnant as a consequence, forcing her to abort—probably, convincing herself to believe abortion was her way of abandonment. A generational curse, indeed. A fact, Rene tried to protect his son from because Melina and Rene both knew Miles would blame himself if he found out.

They were both right.

Sugar watched helplessly as the truth tore Miles apart.

“Th—“

A pained teary-eyed Miles barked, “ENOUGH! I can’t bear anymore. Enough.”

“No, you gonna hear this, dammit. You gonna hear. When we found out she had taken her life, I knew I was the one to blame. I couldn’t bear the thought of witnessin’ my only grandbaby gettin’ buried before me. I couldn’t face that music. I killed my grandbaby. I did it. I admit it, dammit! So, I kept her promise for as long as I could.”

Miles snapped, “You waited until money was on the line to fess up?”

Rene cried, “I don’t give a damn about the money. Take Thibodeau’s. We don’t deserve it. We don’t deserve you as our son. We didn’t deserve Melina as our grandbaby.”

Clara’s face was reddened, snort dripping from her nose and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Rene, why didn’t you tell me? Why? Why?”

“Fuck this,” Miles snarled. “We’re leavin’, Sugar.”

 






Chapter End Notes:

This was a long and emotional chapter, but I am glad the truth is out there now. In his own way, Rene was trying to protect Miles even if it meant his only son hating him because he'd rather be a cruel bastard and have Miles hate him than Miles knowing the truth and hating himself even more than he already did.

But now the truth's out. 

It cut deep.

Sugar was relatively quiet during this chapter, but that was on purpose because it was a Rene-centered chapter. Miles' scars are opening and Sugar will be here to help him clean them up in the next chapter.

Also: I have no idea if contracts can work the way I wrote in this chapter, but pretend they do. o.o

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

 







Enter the security code shown below:
Note: You may submit either a rating or a review or both.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.