Free Natural Born Liar: The Misadventures of Mink LaRue by Noire Page A

as she sipped on her drink. At forty-eight she was still beautiful and classy, and she could have easily passed for thirty. She had a cool, distant air about her, but those who really knew her understood that she was fragile inside and could get broken down by too much stress.
    “For real, Ma. I mean it,” Barron warned her.
    “I hear what you’re saying, Barron. But for some reason this girl just seemed different to me. She was so convincing . I can’t explain it. I just have a gut feeling this time. Call it a mother’s intuition or whatever you wanna call it, but I have it.”
    Selah stood at the window and stared out over the sprawling forty-two-acre estate that her husband had built for her more than twenty-five years ago. She had grown up in a cold Brooklyn tenement, and now she lived in a dream house. A twenty-room mansion that she had helped design and had spent years decorating to her tastes. They had horses, cattle, swimming pools, tennis courts, ponds, and countless fine cars. Her children hadn’t been raised like she was raised—beneath a roaring elevated New York train station with city grime falling down on their heads, but instead, they’d grown up right here in the lap of luxury. And even though she had more money than she could ever spend, and the entire world was at her fingertips, Selah still wasn’t happy.
    “A’ight,” Barron said as he stood beside her. He hated it when she got all silent on him. “So what’s her name this time? Where is she from?”
    “Her name is Mink, and she’s from right there in New York. Harlem.”
    Barron laughed. “Mink? Mama! Come on now. What? You hold a press conference and tell the world you’re looking for a missing child named Sable, and all of a sudden up pops some broad named Mink? Who’s gonna be on the phone next? A hood chick named Chinchilla? C’mon, Ma. Forget about this girl. I hate to say this, but it’s been a long time, and we don’t even know if Sable is still out there anymore.”
    Selah hugged her son. For Barron to be adopted, it was funny how much like Viceroy he was. But Selah knew how to handle both of them. She wasn’t about to forget about finding Sable. She’d taken her eyes off her baby for just a few minutes and she’d lost her to a stranger. What kind of mother could forget that?
    “You don’t have to tell me how long it’s been, Barron. I relive that day almost every night in my dreams. And all I can say is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for Sable, and I’m sorry for you too.”
    “I know. But it’s okay, Ma. Everything is cool.” Barron put his arms around her again. If nobody else understood the pain she felt over losing Sable, he sure did. After all, the blame was partly his too. He was the oldest. He had been the one in charge. Sable had been snatched out of her stroller right in front of his eyes, and he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it.
    “You were seven years old,” Selah said, reading his guilty thoughts. “Seven. It was my fault for leaving you alone with two babies. That lady was going to take Sable no matter what, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could have done about it. Nothing.”
    Barron nodded and kissed the top of his mother’s head. She’d been telling him that same bullshit for over eighteen years.
    Maybe one day he’d believe her.

CHAPTER 11
     
    K elvin Merchant was real easy to find on Facebook. Dude musta had his finger on the CONFIRM button because Bunni sent him a friend request and he approved it quick fast. We stalked his Facebook page and laughed like crazy as we read all his freaky info. He looked a good three hundred and fifty pounds in his pictures, and in the hobby section he had the nerve to put in “pain slut” and list a Web site called meninpain.com
    Bunni loved that shit!
    “Oooh, I’ma join that group and look for him,” she said and pulled the site up on the screen. We hollered when a picture came up of a white dude hanging upside down with his balls