Flock (The Ravenhood)

“Yeah, I did, perfect hike, and then I had some work to do, you?”

I nod, emotion clogging my throat. Unsure of what to do, I don’t glance back at Dominic to gauge his read on this situation. After another painful silence, Sean tips my chin and shakes his head adamantly before leaning in to kiss me. His lips are soft, his smell making my eyes water as he pulls away.

“Still trying to make peace with the devil?”

My nod is solemn. “I want to so much.”

“I’m all yours, Cecelia.” Words, the perfect words from a perfect man I no longer feel I deserve. He nods past my shoulder at Dom before whispering a soft, “Night, man.” I open my mouth just as he grips the handle on the other side of the door and closes it with me inside.

Shocked, I stand motionless for several seconds and turn to see Dominic’s eyes on me before he pulls the empty pillow closer to his shoulder. Climbing back into bed with him, my smile grows wide just before he clicks off the light and reaches for me.

“THAT ONE,” LAYLA SAYS AS I push through the dressing room door and step in front of the full-length mirror. Tessa, the store owner, nods in agreement from her position at the register of the small shop as I critique myself in the pale, yellow sundress that hugs my every curve. I’ve toned up, due to extended hikes with Sean. The color of the dress makes my sun-tinted skin appear darker and brings out the blue in my eyes.

“Yeah, this one.”

Layla gives me a sly grin and leans in, out of Tessa’s earshot. “Which one is this for?”

“Sean. I’m going to head over to the house after we leave and cook for the boys before fireworks tonight.”

She sorts through a rack of hangers and grins. “If I didn’t love my shithead fiancé so much, and hadn’t watched those two twerps grow up, I would be jealous.”

Layla is substantially older than me, having just turned thirty, and I hadn’t realized how much older in our previous exchanges. From our conversations, I’ve gathered she’s been in the ‘club’ since the beginning. She’s a true ride-or-die when it comes to the hood, and we’ve been spending more time together in the last few weeks. She’s the only person aside from Tyler who knows my Sunday Brunch smile secret.

The secret that I’m in a polyamorous relationship.

Which is odd and wonderful, exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time.

My phone sounds from my purse, and I pluck it from where it sits in the chair next to the dressing room to decline FaceTime with my mother. I’ve been avoiding her like the plague, due to my current dating status and the fact that I don’t want to share any part of this with her. From the time I hit puberty until now, I’ve condemned her silently for sharing stories showcasing her blatant promiscuity, and now I have no place to judge. I’ve never once appreciated the fact that she played more friend than mother with her oversharing in that respect. And it’s all wrong. I shouldn’t punish her for it now that I better understand it. But some part of me wants to believe my circumstances are different. That my relationships are different. Grabbing my check card from my wallet, I brush away the guilt and see a message pop up when I hand it to the shop owner who’s done nothing but helicopter us since we walked through the door.

I just wanted to see your face. Stop ignoring my calls. This is bullshit, kid, call me back or I’ll be driving in from Atlanta TONIGHT.

I type out a quick reply.

Sorry. I’ll call you later.

That’s what you said last week.

I will. Promise.

Once Tessa rings me up, Layla snips off the tag. The dress costs far more than I would normally spend on any one item of clothing, but under Sean’s influence, I only shop locally now. Which means I pay thirty dollars more at this downtown boutique for a dress and pump money into my local economy to support small business owners.

But the fear was real in Tessa’s demeanor and hopeful eyes when Layla and I walked in and started eyeing price tags. It was so apparent she was desperate for a sale, which made me feel good about what I was buying and terrified for her that it wouldn’t last. As I check out, I get some background on how she had inherited her grandmother’s store when she died and rebranded it, sinking every dime into refacing the little shop. Tessa’s not much older than me, and I can’t help but feel for her as she catches herself oversharing, clear emotion leaking from her voice.

I make it a point to tell Sean about it, not for the credit of shopping here, but because I know he can do something about it. Christmas comes every quarter to a few select and local businesse

s in Triple Falls, mostly businesses owned by hood relatives to keep them afloat. That I learned by a full day of being in on the secret.

As promised, I got an answer to another lingering question. Tyler is the Friar. And I figured it out the day he and I were charged with passing out the checks to said businesses, something Sean didn’t want me to miss. By the end of the day, I understood why he let me in on it. He wanted me to witness first-hand the why of what they do.

I was a sobbing mess both during and by the end of it when the store owners burst through the doors with tears in their eyes. Every one of them had grateful words pouring from their lips as they accepted their checks.

But his part was to play the mask for the true culprit, Dominic.

Dominic and his sorcery behind the keyboard had everything to do with it. The source of the money? Large corporations and banks that siphon funds from unsuspecting shareholders and employees. Corporations and banks who could never report the theft for fear of getting examined more closely by the powers that be, the powers that govern and regulate.

That’s the beauty of robbing thieves.

More than once, I’ve asked Sean about his plans for my father’s company. Every time he’s changed the subject, refusing to acknowledge the question and I wouldn’t be surprised if, down the line, my father got a painful dose of justice.