Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (35 page)

BOOK: Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion)
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They were saved as their attention was directed back to the event. Applause erupted as the song came to a conclusion. Melody was gracious to the crowd, thanking them for their praise. The evening had been a huge success, and the time came for Carter to approach the stage to say a few words with regard to the event.

He nervously walked up to approach Melody, stepping up onto the platform. He lightly kissed her on the cheek, thanking her, before she exited the stage. As he turned toward the crowd, they once again applauded, some friends even shouting encouragement over the other voices.

Looking extremely handsome in his tuxedo, he put his hands up, indicating to everyone that the applause could now settle down. Adjusting the microphone, he nervously pulled at his collar.

“Good evening everyone,” he said. “For those of you that don’t know me, I’m Carter Sinclair. Declan’s my brother—so give it up for him, since this is his place, and he was gracious enough to let me use it,” he said, directing attention to Declan and buying himself a few more minutes to contain his edginess.

The crowd laughed and applauded for Declan, who waved his hand in the air, smiling and shaking his head incredulously at his brother.

“Lacey is…Lacey was my wife…”

He stopped for a moment, emotion threatening his composure before he’d even had a chance to read his carefully prepared words. Clearing his throat, he continued, looking bravely out at the crowd.

“She loved kids—all kids, of all ages,” he said, putting the paper down. He had decided to simply talk to the crowd about the woman they were honoring—the woman he loved.

“No matter where we went, one would find us—anywhere,” he said, recalling a memory. “I remember we were on a Ferris Wheel once, getting a little close—if you know what I mean—and this voice called out from in back of us, ‘
Mrs. Sinclair? Is that you?’
Needless to say, it ruined the moment.”

The crowd burst into laughter, as did he.

“None of that mattered to Lacey,” he continued. “Wherever we were, whatever we were doing, she was never inconvenienced by any of her kids. She loved them all. She also tried to keep them both active and healthy. She’d meet a group of kids and go hiking, biking, or even rafting down the river. She had a blast—and so did the kids…”

His expression saddened a bit.

“Unfortunately, she was taken from us too soon…”

He reflectively paused, and the attendees grew quiet. Once again, struggling for voice, he cleared his throat and continued.

“Though her life was short, it was a good one—and one that should have an impact.”

He then smiled at the crowd.

“That’s why we’re here today, starting The Lacey and Rose Sinclair Scholarship Fund,” he added, to the delight of the crowd.

A thunderous round of applause erupted, and lasted for several minutes, compelling Carter to come off of the platform and pull Declan up alongside of him as it continued. After a few moments, silence once again reigned throughout the space.

“My brother and I agree on this,” he said as he looked in Declan’s direction, “good women are hard to find…”

Declan’s attention settled immediately on Aria. Not escaping her constant watch, Marisol shot Aria a contemptuous look when she saw Declan glance her way. She was just biding her time, playing a part, until she got what she wanted. What she hadn’t noticed was that Aria’s teary eyes were fixed on both Sinclair men.

“Lacey was a good woman—an
unbelievably
good woman—and she always said that our mother had a large influence on her.”

He affectionately placed his hand on Declan’s shoulder.

“These women were greatly loved by both of us,” he said. “Your donations this evening have been unbelievably generous. Each year, a college scholarship will be awarded to a high school senior who not only strives to keep up their grades, but also tries to stay active and healthy.”

The crowd applauded even louder with a few hoots and hollers.

Carter laughed at Declan, shrugging his shoulders, then spoke into the microphone, “Would all of my rowdy friends please settle down?”

The crowd laughed, as did the two Sinclair men. Once Carter regained control of the room, he continued.

“This night has been unimaginable,” he said, sharing his disbelief with the crowd. “If Lacey were here…well…if she were…”

Carter couldn’t speak. His eyes filled with tears and his throat tightened, straining his voice. He looked to the sky as he attempted to gain some form of control, but it was gone. To those close enough to see him, tears began to trickle down the side of his face. The women who loved him—Aria, Aimee, Paige, and Katherine—dabbed at their eyes, silently willing strength to him. The room had hushed to a respectable and reverent silence.

Declan, who had moved off to the side to allow his brother to conclude his speech, quickly made his way to rescue Carter and stand beside him in support. Taking the lead, he finished the speech for him.

“If Lacey were here, she’d be touched and humbled by your generosity. On behalf of her and our mother, we’d like to thank you,” he said.

Turning on his most pleasant smile for the crowd, he looked at Carter to see if he’d like to add anything. He knew by the look on his brother’s face that he’d appreciate Declan ending the words for him, so he turned his attention back to the audience for a moment.

“As for my brother and myself,” he concluded, “please enjoy the music, food, and the remainder of your evening.”

The room exploded with applause as the Sinclair brothers departed the stage.

Making their way to the table, the special women in their lives all stood to express their affection. Aria was the first to kiss and hug Carter, quickly followed by Aimee, Paige, and Katherine. Blake stood at the rear of the group as well, but after Declan looked around at them, he noticed that Aria had slipped away—and Marisol was nowhere to be found…

 

 

Aria had gathered her things and decided to leave without interrupting their friends. It had been an eventful evening, and her emotions wavered like the ocean currents.

Having almost reached her car, she suddenly saw Marisol walking through the parking lot, back toward the building. She was alone, with no indication of where she had come from or where she had been.

She stared at Marisol with hatred, enjoying the potent rush that the emotion was discharging throughout her. It was a foreign sensation. She hadn’t experienced a great supply of it in her emotional repertoire, but its influence was making her feel drunk with the power she had over the beautifully grotesque woman before her. She was definitely not the girl she used to be.


I saw you, Marisol.

She dropped the comment like a bomb the moment she was close enough to be heard. The words dripped acidly, as her jaw locked and teeth ground tightly in anger. She had waited so long to utter those few words aloud that she said them with enough unspoken violence in her voice to pulverize the hardest stone, making Marisol take a step back from her. Her eyes went wide as she looked from left to right to see if anyone was around.

Aria didn’t care if they drew spectators or not. Her unleashed hatred toward Marisol for what she’d stolen from her wasn’t all she had to fear.

“You think I’m not aware of your game?” she asked, initiating her assault.

When Marisol noted that no one was around to hear them, she returned the stare with an equally evil one of her own, pompously defying Aria to intercept the strategy of her game with Declan.

“It doesn’t matter,” Marisol mocked. “I have him now. I knew you were an inconsequential threat when I first saw you in the theatre. You could never compete with me physically. I wanted Declan and you were trying to take him, but now I’ve outsmarted you.”

She smiled smugly.

“Go back to your sandbox, Aria.
I’ve won
.”

“So, that’s what this is about?”

Aria laughed, mocking her.

“Physical appearance? Declan is so far above that!” she spat at her, becoming unhinged. “You, Marisol, are a piece of shit—pure and simple. Toxic waste, actually,” she seethed the words through her teeth. “That’s what women like you are all about, isn’t it?” she questioned her, approaching and imposing her. “You don’t want the implants or the plastic surgery to make you feel good about yourself—oh no!”

Aria laughed, throwing back her head. She then stared into Marisol’s eyes, daring her to refute the type of woman she was exposing her to be.

“Good women become beautiful. You’re a thieving
whore
! A monster through to the core! You don’t even care for what you take; you just steal men for the hell of it! You really are a rotten
bitch
, Marisol, and the reason Declan hasn’t thrown you completely out of his life is because you stole and twisted his emotions at one of the most vulnerable times he could have ever experienced.”

Aria was shaking with rage. She had never been this angry, but she wasn’t backing away.

Marisol pointed her manicured finger in Aria’s face and sneered.

“What do you know about Declan?” she asked, baring her teeth like the shark that she was.

“He was fun before you tried to convince him that his life with me wasn’t enough for him. I
am
enough for him. Get it through your fat, ugly head beach girl—he doesn’t love you anymore! He is no longer your concern.”

Marisol smugly lifted her chin in defiance.

Inhaling and exhaling a deep breath that heightened her small frame, Aria felt fire breath in and out of her. Trembling with fury as she prepared to eradicate Marisol’s confidence in her manipulation, she issued her declaration with power she had never felt before.

“I will never justify my care for Declan to you! I can see that you’re nothing but a vicious leech, so look out, Marisol—get used to me watching you, because Declan will always be my concern! He isn’t aware of your game, because he isn’t conniving like you. I’ve never played emotional games with him, because everything I’ve ever felt for him was genuine and true.”

Aria moved toward her, closer and closer, as she approached her unconsciously. Her hands shook with anger for the pain that Marisol had caused, and she wanted to reciprocate just a small taste of that misery.

“Perhaps I did do Declan a disservice by not playing games with him, like you do. He didn’t recognize the most miserable beast with a twisted game when it came right at him—
You!”

Aria lay the truth in front of her, daring her to deny it.

“You played with his mind when he was hurt and vulnerable,” she accused. “You used a man with a kind heart and made him into a game for your own sick and twisted pleasure. He didn’t even know he was a victim. The pathetic part is that you played with him for
your
benefit. You
never
cared about what happened to him, nor had his interests at heart!”

Marisol’s face tightened into a mask of monstrous hatred as she attempted a badgering look of her own, but Aria refused to be intimidated. After all these anguished months, she’d finally let go of all the hurt and anger, and have her say.

Moving as intimately close as she could without touching her, Aria knew Marisol could feel her breath hitting her in the face. She wanted to terrify her with this new found power—the power of the love she felt for Declan—the same power that could, and would, crush her.

She resolved that, before this night was over, this aesthetically beautiful piece of shit would comprehend that they’d be playing a different game from this point forward. She was being served notice that this time, she wasn’t getting away with her tricks
.
Declan would get his memory and his life back—no matter Aria’s personal cost.

“Declan may not love me, but I will always love him! No matter what happens, I will always look out for him. Don’t forget, Marisol, Declan only knows your version of the events. What he doesn’t know is the truth, but I do—and I’ll see you in hell before you hurt him!”

Just then, something fell to the ground and Marisol’s head turned.

“Declan…”
she said, pitifully, as though she had been injured.

He had come from nowhere, his harsh and agitated look demanding attention from both women. He looked from Marisol to Aria, and their eyes locked.

Instantaneously, Aria felt the magnetic pull. It was as if they’d never been apart, and it was more than she’d hoped.

“Aria? What is this?” he demanded.

Still breathing hard and seething rage, Aria’s anger hadn’t abated. Marisol ran to his side. He would have pushed her away, but for his brother’s sake, he played into her act.

“She tried to attack me,” Marisol reported. “She said she wouldn’t accept that you weren’t with her anymore.”

Marisol cleverly twisted words to further her own agenda, not realizing Declan was aware of her scheming. Declan’s stern expression never left Aria.

As she concentrated on his eyes, memories of Hawaii entered her mind, unbidden. The emotional storm inside of her threatened to break if she spoke, so she didn’t.

BOOK: Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion)
12.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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