Plausibility

  Plausibility

  By Jettie Woodruff

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive are a figment of my imagination and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind's eye and are not to be interpreted as real.

  Copy write © 2013 Jettie Woodruff

  All rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.

  This book is dedicated to my mother. I love it when she tells me that she has a hard time finding another book after reading mine.

  To of course, Crystal for all of the tedious hard work, critiquing, and re-reading of everything that I do.

  To Monica for her blunt and bold opinions, for telling me…nope, change it. I don’t like that, and for making me laugh….a lot.

  To cover it designs for an amazing cover and to my number one book blogs

  Novel Grounds and Island Lovelies Book Club.

  Last but not least.

  To all of my fans who keep me writing.

  You guys rock.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  Aquilla always knew she didn’t belong to the Chavez family. Anyone that looked at her could tell that she wasn’t a descendent of Romano Chavez. Romano, along with her brother, Julius, were both dark skinned with coal black hair. Aquilla was light skinned with glossy blonde hair. Her eyes were a sparkling blue, where Romano and Julius’s were dark. Romano and Julius were built with broad shoulders, strong lean arms, and legs with muscular builds. She was tiny and dainty with thin features. She never questioned her heritage, not until she was older anyways. A child believes what they are told, and up until a few years ago, she did the same.

  Why would she question her father’s word? He was her father. Julius was her brother. She had no reason to believe otherwise. She never really cared. She couldn’t have asked for a more loving father. She was the spirit in her father’s soul. He worshiped the ground she walked on, and would have done anything in the world for her. It really didn’t matter where she came from. The handful of times that she had asked, her father de-railed the conversation. The only explanation that she had ever gotten was that her mother was an American and had been killed in an automobile accident. That would be the degree of the discussion.

  It wasn’t really important to her. She knew that Romano wasn’t her actual father. She didn’t care. He obviously took her in when her own father didn’t want her. Her brother was generally the best big brother anyone could ask for. There were also plenty of times that she thought he was a pain in her ass. No, he was definitely a pain in her ass, but when push came to shove, she knew he would always be there for her.

  Even when she was a little girl, Julius was an awesome big brother. They had a seven year age difference, so he was always protective of her. There were many nights when their father was away on business that she would wake crying. Julius would be the one she wanted, not their caretaker. He would be the one to rub her back and hum her back to sleep.

  For some reason, Aquilla was always a scared little girl, mostly at night. If Romano were home, he would be the one to go to her. He usually carried her back to bed with him or there were times she would cry for Julius, and Romano would take her to him. Julius would raise the covers and wrap her little body in his arms. She would be securely asleep in seconds.

  Other than one childhood friend that belonged to one of the servants, Aquilla never had friends growing up. Julius was the lucky one to help get those damned, too tight leggings up Barbie’s legs and over her hips. He pretended to eat the play dough cookies and built tents and forts out of the couch cushions and blankets. He even dressed in a tuxedo once and married her when she was seven.

  It seemed like every time she would get settled and start sleeping through the night, Romano would move them again, disrupting her routine. A new bedroom always meant late nights for Julius. He probably slept in her bed more than his during those years.

  She always wanted Julius. If her shoe was untied, Julius had to tie it. If a servant brought her a plate that needed to be cut up, Julius had to cut it. If it was bath time, Julius had to bathe her, and then be the one to read her a bedtime story. He did it better. He made the characters come alive, unlike her caretaker, who just wanted her to go to sleep. When she knew he was nearing the end of the book and her anxieties about the dark night would manifest, she always looked up to him and requested the same thing, “Don’t leave me okay, Julius?” He never left. He would stay until she was asleep, kiss her hair and promise to stay. He cared about her. He wanted her to be happy.

  Julius fired his first employee when he was twelve. Aquilla was only five. It was her new caretaker right after an impulsive, speedy move. He had heard her crying from her room and burst in. He always followed her cries. He was usually the only one that could calm a tantrum, fix a boo boo, or get rid of the monster in her closet. Aquilla had been sitting at her vanity. Her caretaker was trying to brush her wet hair from behind. She was being rough with her, yanking her head back every time the brush stroked down her blonde little curls. The lady grabbed her shoulders and shook her, yelling for her to be still in a loud whisper, through gritted teeth.

  That was the first time in Julius’s life that he felt wrath. The rage that flooded his soul, because someone was being mean to his Quill was unbearable. He wanted to rip her head off.

  “Get out!” he screamed, with bulging veins in his neck, demanding her to pack her shit and get out of their house.

  She refused the orders from the 12 year old boy. Luckily, Romano had been home and came to see what the commotion was all about. That was Julius’s first taste of power. When he explained to his father what he had witnessed, Romano looked at the lady, told her she needed to listen to his son, and turned on his heels, dismissing the caretaker from her duties.

  “She hurt me,” Aquilla had said with tears in her big blue eyes. It broke his heart. He would kill anyone for hurting her. He picked up the brush and carefully brushed out her hair. No one could come close to her head with a brush after that, except Julius, of course.

  The first time that Julius wasn’t there for her was when she was nine. Julius was sixteen and was accompanying his father on a three day trip. He was excited to be doing business with his father, but was afraid that Aquilla would need him. She still woke up during the night sometimes, and would crawl in bed with him. Half the time, he never knew she was there until he woke the next morning.

  It broke his heart when she cried. She didn’t want him to leave. She had wanted to go, too. You would have thought it was Christmas. He went out and bought her more toys than she could play with in a whole year. He wanted to keep her busy until he got back. She played with one. He bought her a beautiful, very expensive doll with long blonde braids like Aquilla’s. She was dressed in an elegant, long Victorian gown and wore a bonnet. He explained to her that she was a bad dream baby, and that she wouldn’t let her be scared while he was gone.
It had worked. She carried that doll around for two years, and it still lay on her bed and sits in a chair at night, watching her sleep and catching her nightmares.

  When Aquilla was almost ten, she sat on his bed and watched him primp in his mirror, getting ready for his first date. She sat cross legged on his bed, holding the doll, and watched him fuss with his hair.

  “There, how do I look?” he asked, after adding the finishing touch of a diamond stud in his right ear.

  “You look ugly,” she teased.

  He tackled her to the mattress and tickled her until she couldn’t breathe.

  “You’re pretty!” she screamed.

  “Say I’m handsome,” he demanded, attacking her again.

  “You’re pretty!” she screamed again.

  “You’re a brat,” he countered, smacking her on the butt as his father came in.

  “What are you two yelling about in here?” Romano asked, sitting beside of Aquilla. She scooted into his arms and he wrapped her up, kissing her head.

  “Julius is going to kiss a girl,” she teased.

  He turned from the mirror and pointed a straight finger at her. “You’re asking for it, little girl.” She giggled. He loved to hear her laugh. He could be pissed off at the world and her laughter would make him smile, every time. He would probably never love a girl as much as he loved that little shit.

  “Make sure you wrap it up,” Romano demanded.

  “Wrap what up?” nosey little Aquilla wanted to know.

  “Wrap you up,” Romano lied. He shouldn’t have said that in front of her. He wasn’t ready to explain that one just yet.

  “Wrap what up, Julius?” she asked, turning to her brother. She wanted a straight answer. Did he buy her a present? What had he bought her?

  “A necklace,” he too lied, giving his father a dirty look. He wasn’t going there yet either. He was never going there. His father could have that job.

  “Come on, you have a piano lesson,” Romano coaxed her off the bed.

  “I don’t like the piano,” she complained, walking in front of him.

  “What do you like?” her father asked.

  “I want to play the flute,” she decided.

  Julius laughed. If Aquilla wanted to play the flute, she would be playing the flute. She hadn’t wanted to play the violin; she wanted to play the piano. Romano bought her a piano. The girl probably had every instrument known to man, aside from a drum set. YET.

  Julius didn’t have to wrap anything up. He didn’t even want to kiss the girl. She was a snobby rich bitch. He didn’t get two words in during their romantic dinner. It was all me, me, me. He cut the date short and was back home by eight.

  He stood in the door of the living room, watching Aquilla talk to herself and move from one side of the Monopoly game, when it was her turn, to the other side, when it was Julius’s turn. Her imaginary Julius landed on a Railroad.

  “Oh, no, Julius, you just move on to the next one. I have to buy the Railroads,” she demanded, talking to herself as he watched with a smile.

  “You always get the Railroads,” he accused.

  “Julius!” she exclaimed, seeing him. “Do you want to play with me?”

  “I would love to play with you,” he assured her, taking his place in his designer dress clothes. He did want to play with her. He would much rather be there, playing board games with Aquilla, than with that snobby bitch that he didn’t even care to remember her name.

  “Did you kiss her?” Aquilla asked, rolling the dice.

  “Yuck, that’s gross,” he teased. She laughed.

  Romano started to wonder if he had a problem a couple of months later, on Aquilla’s birthday. Julius bought her a Barbie mansion. She was so excited sitting on her bed, waiting for him to set it up. He cussed under his breath a million times trying to put the damn thing together.

  “Julius, I’m going to be 11 before I even get to play with it,” she whined, tolerantly waiting with four new Barbie’s, also patiently waiting to move in, “note the sarcasm,” she added.

  He laughed. God, he loved that kid.

  She was passed out cold across her bed by the time he was finished.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?” Romano asked, coming to her room around ten. He moved the new Barbie’s from the bed and pulled down Aquilla’s covers.

  “Trying to put this stupid mother fucker together,” Julius replied, cleaning up the mess. He looked down at the one pink plastic piece that he still hadn’t figured out where the hell it needed to go.

  “I heard that, Julius,” Aquilla, sleepily said, crawling into her bed. He smiled.

  Romano covered her and kissed her on the head.

  “Let’s talk, Son,” Romano coaxed, nodding toward the door.

  Julius followed him into his office and plopped to the chair in front of his father’s massive desk. “What? I’m tired; I want to go to bed.”

  “I don’t think it’s healthy for you to spend as much time with Quill as you do,” he began.

  Julius snorted. “Okay, where would you rather I spend my time?”

  “I don’t know, maybe with girls your own age. You should be dating.”

  “Why would I want to date? I get more pussy than any 17 year old boy. I’m sure of that,” he added. “Why would I want to deal with some whiny ass bitch? I would much rather hang out with Quill,” he assured his father.

  “She depends on you, too much. I don’t think it’s healthy for either one of you.”

  “Father, she has no one to play with. She can’t go to a normal school and make friends. You can’t just throw an instrument and an instructor at her when you think she is bored. I feel bad for her being alone all the time.”

  Romano smiled. “I get it, go to bed,” Romano said, dismissing him. He too felt bad about that, but it had to be that way. They didn’t live the kind of life that would allow her to be normal. Aquilla was always in danger. Romano would never take the chance of putting her in harm’s way because of the enemies he had collected throughout the years.

  Julius decided that she couldn’t come into his bed anymore when she was around 12. She had come in sometime during the night while he was asleep. He stared at her sleeping form, sprawled out on his bed, with her hands over her head the next morning. She was wearing mint green pajama pants with a matching thin tank-top. She was growing breasts. He could see them poking out of the shirt. It didn’t look good for her to sleep in his bed anymore.

  She didn’t understand why he had sent her back to her own bed a couple of nights later. She felt better in bed with him. She didn’t wake up scared in his bed. Julius had his father talk to her about it. He didn’t know how to explain it. He was only 19. He didn’t know how to tell a girl that it wasn’t proper to be in her brother’s bed at her age. She pouted for a couple of days, but forgave him when she needed help with her homework. That was the first night she had asked him about his “job.”

  He was explaining predicate nouns to her in her room, siting at her desk. He looked down at her when she didn’t respond to his explanation. She was staring up at him with her beautiful sparkling blue eyes. She was turning into such a pretty girl.

  “What, Quill?” he asked, quietly.

  “What do you do in the north wing? Why can’t I go there?” she wanted to know.

  He turned his eyes shamelessly back to the English book. “I work there, Quill. It’s not a place for little girls,” he assured her.

  “I’m hardly a little girl anymore. I’m old enough to see. Do you work with girls?”

  His eyes quickly reverted back to hers. “Why would you ask that?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I see girls come there sometimes late at night, and then they leave with other men after about a week. They always come for them late at night. Why, Julius?”

  “I have to teach them and then they leave. Do your homework,” he tried, turning back to the book.

  “What do you teach them?”

  “How to be a l
ady, now do your homework.”

  “Do you kiss them?”

  “No, now stop asking questions and get your lessons done.” He didn’t like talking about this with Aquilla. She could never understand and he could never explain it so that she would.

  “Will you kiss me, Julius?”

  He choked on his own saliva. “No, I won’t kiss you. You’re my sister. That’s kind of gross.”

  “But I’m not really your sister.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Aquilla tilted her head. “Really, Julius?” She moved her arm next to his. It was like black and white. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew he wasn’t her brother as much as she knew Romano wasn’t her father. She was unquestionably a white girl. Julius’s mother was Asian and his father was Hispanic. Julius had dark eyes and even had a little bit of a slant in the corners. Aquilla had bright blue eyes, unlike her father and Julius.

  “You just took after our mother,” he tried.

  “Stop lying to me, I’m not three nor am I stupid. I know we do not have the same parents.”

  “You need to talk to Father about this.”

  “I’m never going to get to kiss a boy, Julius. How am I ever going to get a boyfriend when I am homeschooled and never allowed out of this house?”

  Julius blew out a puff of air. “You’re not going to get a boyfriend, and if I ever see a boy kiss you, I will chop him up into tiny little pieces.” That was true. The poor girl didn’t have a chance in hell to ever have a boyfriend. Between her father and Julius, she could go through many dead boyfriends.

  “Then you need to kiss me. I just want to see what it’s like. You don’t have to stick your tongue in my mouth or anything,” she explained.

  Julius laughed a nervous laugh. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t kiss Aquilla. It was unthinkable. He looked at her carefully.

  “Please, Julius,” she begged.

  He had kissed her lips a hundred times. She was just a toddler, this was different. She wasn’t three anymore. He looked at her lips, back to her eyes, back to her lips, and then back to her eyes. Fuck. What the hell was he doing? He moved his face to hers and softly kissed her lips. He quickly backed away when she opened her mouth and brushed his tongue with hers.