Read Online The Red Roots by Andrea Johnson Beck - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andrea Johnson Beck
Tags: Novel
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Reed trailed kisses along her neck, shoulder blade, and spine. His hands held her like precious stone or metal. He revered the curves that flowed and caressed her skin.
This was the humanity that dwelled inside Reed Pierce. This was the man she fell in love with.
Rosa was right.
She loved.
IN THE DARK and well into the early morning, Isla and Reed started over.
FOR THE BETTER part of a decade Isla adapted—not accepted—to the notion that Jules would not be able to come home. She’d remain in hiding with Henry until authoritative bounds held her no more.
A Will was drawn up leaving Henry in charge of Jules. It pained Isla not being with her daughter, and though the agony never ended within her heart, she made sure her eyes never gave her away. Expressions carved of stone deceived everyone, including her husband.
She was never numb to Jules’s absence but time had strained her mental state. Perhaps that was when Isla let Reed slip through. Knocking down the walls she built up around her heart. Perhaps there was room for one more.
Perhaps.
WHEN ISLA WAS a child she flipped the handlebars of her new pink bicycle. Gravel embedded into her skin, and her mother was quick to clean the wound. Once bandaged, Isla cried into her arms apologizing for damaging her birthday present. Her mother wiped her tears away. “That is just metal and plastic. You, my sweet girl, are what matters.”
While Isla curled into the corner after one of Ronan’s lashings she wondered why her mother left her sweet girl in the care of a monster.
Many questions such as those disturbed her for years. What could she do? Raise the dead? Hold a séance? Conjure up her parents. Anything from Ronan’s mouth was vile, and her grandmother was too occupied with charity luncheons and facials to care about what was happening to Isla.
The Walkers were nothing more than a wealthy immoral family, but unlike the Kennedy or Rockefellers, their dirty secrets weren’t streaked across Page 6 of the New York Times. Ronan buried his deep into the dirt.
The Pierce family wasn’t exempt of front-page news or gossip, but they protected their own unless you betrayed what the family stood for.
Influence.
Unity.
Dynasty.
Amaranthine wasn’t a name of happenstance. It was chosen for a family to continue on through the decades. Ellis’s decision to give Reed his shares made sense to Isla. Also, with the increase of her hacking abilities, it fell into line of what her father-in-law wanted.
Reed and Isla, along with Jules would build the Pierce empire stronger, fiercer, and without mercy.
No matter what thoughts combed through Isla’s mother’s head about her own family, her torment brought Isla here. She was the woman shaped by triumph, and Jules would be shaped by strength and love. With Reed at her side, their family would be unstoppable.
ON THE PRIVATE beach, Isla sat next to Ellis and dug her toes into the cool sand. Only he would wear an expensive suit and then roll the pant legs to mid-calf like a boy.
Isla swatted a gnat from her legs. “You need new clothes for your guest houses.”
“Green looks nice on you.”
“If the shirt wasn’t clinging to me like another layer of skin.”
Ellis looked to the clear skies. “How are you and Reed?”
“Good.”
“I need you better than good.”
“We have much to work through. I’m a stranger to him.”
“I have faith.”
Isla laughed. “You? Faith?”
“Dead men say silly things.”
“Are you dying today?”
“It’s still early.”
“Yes it is.”
As Isla looked across the water, a buoy bobbed in the current. Just as the tides in the ocean, life was the same. All could change with a single wave or a drop of rain from the heavens.
Life was an illusion. A strange, dangerous illusion.
DOWN THE CORRIDOR lined with Pierce family portraits and Old World oil paintings, rows of wood beams guided Isla and Reed closer to the elegant limestone foyer of the compound.
Isla was ecstatic to see
This was the humanity that dwelled inside Reed Pierce. This was the man she fell in love with.
Rosa was right.
She loved.
IN THE DARK and well into the early morning, Isla and Reed started over.
FOR THE BETTER part of a decade Isla adapted—not accepted—to the notion that Jules would not be able to come home. She’d remain in hiding with Henry until authoritative bounds held her no more.
A Will was drawn up leaving Henry in charge of Jules. It pained Isla not being with her daughter, and though the agony never ended within her heart, she made sure her eyes never gave her away. Expressions carved of stone deceived everyone, including her husband.
She was never numb to Jules’s absence but time had strained her mental state. Perhaps that was when Isla let Reed slip through. Knocking down the walls she built up around her heart. Perhaps there was room for one more.
Perhaps.
WHEN ISLA WAS a child she flipped the handlebars of her new pink bicycle. Gravel embedded into her skin, and her mother was quick to clean the wound. Once bandaged, Isla cried into her arms apologizing for damaging her birthday present. Her mother wiped her tears away. “That is just metal and plastic. You, my sweet girl, are what matters.”
While Isla curled into the corner after one of Ronan’s lashings she wondered why her mother left her sweet girl in the care of a monster.
Many questions such as those disturbed her for years. What could she do? Raise the dead? Hold a séance? Conjure up her parents. Anything from Ronan’s mouth was vile, and her grandmother was too occupied with charity luncheons and facials to care about what was happening to Isla.
The Walkers were nothing more than a wealthy immoral family, but unlike the Kennedy or Rockefellers, their dirty secrets weren’t streaked across Page 6 of the New York Times. Ronan buried his deep into the dirt.
The Pierce family wasn’t exempt of front-page news or gossip, but they protected their own unless you betrayed what the family stood for.
Influence.
Unity.
Dynasty.
Amaranthine wasn’t a name of happenstance. It was chosen for a family to continue on through the decades. Ellis’s decision to give Reed his shares made sense to Isla. Also, with the increase of her hacking abilities, it fell into line of what her father-in-law wanted.
Reed and Isla, along with Jules would build the Pierce empire stronger, fiercer, and without mercy.
No matter what thoughts combed through Isla’s mother’s head about her own family, her torment brought Isla here. She was the woman shaped by triumph, and Jules would be shaped by strength and love. With Reed at her side, their family would be unstoppable.
ON THE PRIVATE beach, Isla sat next to Ellis and dug her toes into the cool sand. Only he would wear an expensive suit and then roll the pant legs to mid-calf like a boy.
Isla swatted a gnat from her legs. “You need new clothes for your guest houses.”
“Green looks nice on you.”
“If the shirt wasn’t clinging to me like another layer of skin.”
Ellis looked to the clear skies. “How are you and Reed?”
“Good.”
“I need you better than good.”
“We have much to work through. I’m a stranger to him.”
“I have faith.”
Isla laughed. “You? Faith?”
“Dead men say silly things.”
“Are you dying today?”
“It’s still early.”
“Yes it is.”
As Isla looked across the water, a buoy bobbed in the current. Just as the tides in the ocean, life was the same. All could change with a single wave or a drop of rain from the heavens.
Life was an illusion. A strange, dangerous illusion.
DOWN THE CORRIDOR lined with Pierce family portraits and Old World oil paintings, rows of wood beams guided Isla and Reed closer to the elegant limestone foyer of the compound.
Isla was ecstatic to see
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