Complicated: A Tainted Love Novella (10 page)

She has never been accepting of rules and control, but these two men…I don’t know what they did, but she flourished under their dominance. I just hope she lets go of the past and allows Ben to take care of her, because he loves her. I see it in the way he looks at her, and I saw it in the way her kidnapping almost ruined him. I have not seen that kind of sacrificial love since…

Marshall.

He had to stay back to do video conferencing meetings with his clients as he had skipped out without word in the middle of an ongoing case. It made my heart swell that much farther for him, knowing that he’d dropped everything for his sister. It had me wondering about the kind of father he would have been if things had gone differently. Would he have done everything to protect his child? Would he have dropped everything, risked his career for their safety…for mine? I had to shake off those thoughts. No sense in dwelling on the past.

I tell Delilah that Marshall is here and she gasps, her eyes watering.

“Does he know?” she asks softly, her voice scratchy – from screaming so much during her abduction I imagine.

I shake my head and tears leak out the sides of my face. Marshall can’t know about what I did. She knows this, and so Delilah simply nods and we remain silent until she falls asleep.

After a few minutes, the doctor on duty updates Ben and I. His prognosis is grim, but Ben’s strength and hope has bolstered my own. I am convinced every day of his love for Delilah. Truly, he is deserving of her. He takes her struggles, her nightmares and he makes it his own. It is beautiful to see them fight a love that is inevitable, because even in fighting, their love grows. I wonder if what Marshall and I had was ever that strong, but I toss it from my mind. There is no more Marshall and me, no future for us.

And that thought, in itself, saddens me.

I am exhausted and emotionally drained when I get home that evening. I throw myself into the black sofa in the living room and exhale a tired breath. As the day begins to crash down on me, I hear the water running in my bathroom, indicating that Marshall is home. The thought slaps me and I shake it off, but it has attached itself to my brain like dopamine receptors and truthfully, it is a nice concept – sharing a home with Marshall. I groan willing my thoughts away from dreams I had too long ago and had no business wishing for again.

As I start to drift, I hear Marshall pad into the room and immediately begin taking my shoes off. I had no energy to put up a fight, just laid there pliant while he went about undressing me. After ridding me of the last piece of clothing, Marshall scoops me into his arms, his warm body feeling like home to me. I rub my face into his chest and my arms automatically go around his neck. He carries me into the bathroom and sets me down into the bath filled with warm water. My body cries out with relief and I sink further in when he adds jasmine bath crystals in.

No words are said as he washes me and massages my shoulders. When he’s done, he leaves me alone and comes back after a half an hour with ham sandwiches and wine. We eat in silence, staring at each other and communicating all we need to with our eyes. We always seemed to know how to communicate with each other without words. I guess having snuck around as much as we used to, silent communication became imperative.

Rough day?
he asks.

Stressful
, I answer with a tired smile.
You?

I’m used to it,
he shrugs.

We finish up and he towels me off, carrying me to the room and laying me down. He goes back to the bathroom and cleans up, taking the plates and wine glasses to the kitchen before joining me again in my bedroom. Pulling the covers back, he slides into bed with me and pulls me against his warm body. I am cocooned in him, feeling the comfort being in his arms triggers.

A deep sigh escapes me and he tightens his hold on me.

“Sleep, beautiful girl,” he whispers, dropping a kiss atop my head.

And I do…in the arms of the sweetest, most caring man I know.

Marshall

M
y parents had called a few minutes ago, saying they were a few minutes away and that I should meet them at the hospital. It’s the day of reckoning. Already my mother sounded distraught. She wanted to know everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to telling her over the phone. They both deserve to be told up front. We need to do this as a family.

I wish I had Rachel here with me right now, but I know I need to do this alone. Having her sleep in my arms last night gave me the strength I needed to do what I had to do. Even after she’d fallen asleep, I hadn’t been able to. I wanted to keep her in my arms forever, but there were just too many walls between us, walls she’d constructed. So as she slept in my arms, I sent up a prayer that this would not be the last time I would have her next to me like this.

Traveling silently and nervously in the taxi, I prepare myself mentally for what is about to happen. I fucked up big time by keeping our parents in the dark about Delilah and I’m going to have to answer for my actions. I hope they know that my heart was in the right place. Nothing is more important to me than my family’s safety and I proved that by going against my Hippocratic Oath to protect Delilah. If the bar found out what I’d done, obstructing the course of justice the way I did, I would be disbarred and put behind bars. Thankfully, that idiot Rick dropped his case against Delilah, so I wouldn’t face jail time if it were to ever get out. Is protecting my family enough when held against losing my job?

Fuck. Yes.

Truth be told, if it were even Rachel I had to make the decision to protect like that, I would have. I would have risked everything just for her safety, for her happiness. Back then and even now, her happiness is paramount to my own. I’m a selfish motherfucker, though, because I want her to be happy with me. I would give up everything for her to be happy with
only
me.

A few years ago, while we were dating, she had missed her pill, and as mad as I was at her carelessness, the idea of having a child with her had warmed my heart. I know if she had wound up pregnant at the time, her parents would not have allowed me to continue on the career path I was on; would have probably forced me to marry her – though it wouldn’t have been force at all. I loved Rachel, still do, and if marrying her to make things right would have been the answer, I would have done it without argument. Maybe if I’d knocked her up back then, she and I would still be together now, raising our children together – because no way I’d want to stop at one.

Shit, I can’t think about Rachel and a baby right now. I need to focus. That line of thinking is only feeding an insane need to find her, drag her to a bed and fuck her until she is pregnant with my kid. That way, she wouldn’t be able to run from me anymore and she’d have to face her feelings of love for me.

As I step out of the taxi I had taken to the hospital, I spot my Mom and Dad a small distance away coming out of a town car. Dad has his hand on my mother’s elbow and he whispers something in her ear that she nods at, taking a deep breath. She touches his cheek and they both stare at each other lovingly. She says something to him and he smiles a small smile before hugging her tight.

I was always jealous of what they had, to be honest. I have always wanted that. Looking back on it now, I had it with Rachel. We had always been tender with each other outside of the bedroom, loving. I would look at her for long minutes and see forever, see our lives together. It was something I needed back then, still do. When we broke up, I thought I could find this love elsewhere, but it just was never right. We either never had the passion in the bedroom that Rachel and I had, or the loving tenderness was missing, giving way to someone cold.

Rachel had it all, still does. She still makes my heart beat faster, my cock harder, my body warmer, and my mouth water. She is it for me, but how do I get her to come to terms with that and accept that I am it for her as well? When we deny our heart’s natural inclination to love, we deny our right to be loved in return. I love her with all my heart, body and soul and I know she loves me back, no matter how hard she tries to fight it. It’s written all over her face every time I walk into a room, every time I touch her, every time I hold her, every time our bodies collide. I just have to work overtime in making her realize this and stop with the bullshit.

As I approach my parents, my thoughts clear, and utter nervousness settles in my bones. What I wouldn’t give to have Rachel here with me now. She has always been the peace to my storm. She has been my center, my calm throughout all of this and having her here to deal with my parents would make things so much easier. I can stand in front of a jury, in front of a judge and represent high profile clients, win impossible cases, but I can’t do this. I’m a fucking joke.

My father spots me first and his face slips into an inscrutable mask, his therapist face. I hate that fucking look. I want him to be angry with me, to yell at me, but he is always so fucking rational. He squeezes my mother and she turns around to see me walking slowly toward them. Unlike my father, mom wears her emotions on her sleeve when it comes to her family. Her face contorts in a sob and she rips away from Dad and rushes over to hug me.

“My boy,” she cries. “Oh, my boy.”

“Mom,” I choke. I feel like a kid again in her arms like this.

She is so soft and warm, and her tears pierce me deep. Dad walks over to us and it is the first time ever that I see tears in his eyes. He doesn’t look unreadable anymore, he is in pain, he is worried. Like all of us, Delilah being hurt affects him, and why wouldn’t it? She’s his little girl.

I think Delilah opened up something soft inside of him when she finally came to live with us. He wasn’t hard on me or anything, but he was insistent that I focus in school and not play around with my opportunities. When Delilah got adopted, he became warmer. He’d begun to do Dad-like things like play catch with me, take me to Yankee games, dance – though the dancing was more for mom and Delilah.

Delilah made us all better in one way or another, and knowing that I had a hand in what happened to her that landed her in the hospital…I’m just waiting for the storm to blow in. Dad gives me a stern nod, despite the tears shining in his eyes, and I know it’s coming.

Wasting no more time, we hurry in through the siding doors, mom panicked. I follow behind like an errant child.

“Where is she? Take me to her, Marshall,” mom demands.

As we step toward the bank of elevators, I stop short seeing Ben holding the doors open. I want to tuck tail and run because, truly, this will not end well. He motions for us to get in and I hesitate, while mom and dad waste no time and dash for it. I follow cautiously after them.

Inside the elevator feels like an incinerator. I pull on my collar and let the heat of guilt wash over me. Yeah, this will not end well for me.

“Mr. and Mrs. Beal,” Ben says, extending my hand to my parents and I want to expire.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Ben doesn’t know! Ben doesn’t fucking know! Shit!

“You must have us confused with someone else, son,” dad tells him.

Goddamn it, I want to get them off of this elevator right now. This was not how Ben was supposed to find out about Delilah. She was supposed to tell him. She’d hoped he would leave before she had to, but as it stood, this guy was going nowhere. This is bad. This is very, very bad. Not just for me, but for Delilah. There’s no telling how Ben will react once he knows the truth.

Her name is not Sullivan Beal, but Delilah Keyes.

“Aren’t you, Sullivan’s parents?” Ben asks, confused.

“Who’s Sullivan?” Mom queries, looking at Dad. She has an impassive look on her face, as if she’s already psychoanalyzing Ben.

My heart is hammering inside my chest and I wish that something catastrophic would happen, anything to drown out the impending doom, the clusterfuck that is sure to break out in this small space. Ben’s eyes connect with mine and I have a mild freak out, feeling heat rise to my neck, choking me. I have to come clean before things get worse.

“Mom, dad…” I take a deep breath and release it heavily. “Sullivan is Delilah,” I confess without looking at anyone. I find an interesting speck on the floor beneath us that I find more appealing to look at than either of their faces. “We had to change her name to hide her from Rick.”

A loud slap echoes in the elevator and I feel a stinging against my face. Mom slapped me – hard…as she should. My parents have been through hell because of our deception. I’m surprised it took her so long to unleash her fury. I thought for sure that as soon as she saw me outside of the hospital just now that she’d pounce. All along they’d thought she was traveling Europe, “finding herself”. They’d agonized, trying to find her, always coming up with nothing more than the fake cards I would deliver to them pinpointing a certain location she was at, but never really was.

I deserve the current ringing in my ear and the stinging pain on my cheek. I deserve a whole lot worse since Delilah could have died.

And her blood would have been on my hands.

“How dare you keep this from us, Marshall?” Mom snarls. “We’ve been in hell for the past five years. I guess your so-called protection didn’t work, did it? He still got to her.” She turns and sobs into dad’s chest and he gives me a hard stare, one that compels me to say…something. I don’t know what, but I do; anything to make them understand why I did this, and why I kept it from them.

“Mother, I couldn’t risk it,” I defend, brokenly. “She was looking at serious jail time if we didn’t do something drastic and the only thing we could think of was for her to run.”

“That is not how we raised you!” she spits at me, dashing away angry tears, and I know that. I fucking know that, which is why I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.

“Never back down from your problems,” mom reinforces, pointing a finger at me before turning back into her dad’s chest.

“It was the only way,” I mumble, turning my pleading eyes to my father.

Something passes in his eyes. Resolution, maybe? I don’t know, but the hardness I saw earlier has disappeared. He gives me a small nod, enough to convey that he understands, that he would have done the same. My features slacken with relief from this, and as soon as the elevator dings and opens, we all get off, except Ben. I’d almost forgotten he was there.

Shit, he looks pissed. I don’t blame him. Everything he has come to rely on as truth, he is coming to realize was all a lie, a ruse to protect my sister; a ruse that failed.

“Please, don’t abandon her now,” I plead with him. “She needs you.” And she does, whether or not she knows it or even wants to accept it, she needs him.

“What am I supposed to do with all this, Marshall?” he asks me honestly; because really, this shit is heavy to digest. I get it.

“I know, man, but…” I sigh. I don’t know how to convince him to stay.

If Delilah doesn’t see him come back it will devastate her. She’s been fighting him since she was brought to the hospital, but I see the way she looks at him when she thinks no one is paying attention. She looks at him as if he is her sun in a drought of darkness, as if he is water in a desolately dry place, as if he is the only thing good in her life. She wants to be good and whole for him but it is a struggle for her. If he leaves her now, it will only confirm what her mind wants to convince her of: that nobody wants her, which is so far from the truth; because he wants her. He loves her. I feel it.

The elevator doors begin to slide closed and, as if on autopilot, Ben slams his hand on one side, preventing them from closing. I breathe a sigh of relief, the tension uncoiling from my muscles.

“Who is this man, son?” dad asks, finally speaking.

“This is…” I begin, only to be cut off by Ben.

“I’m Ben Hayes, your daughter’s boyfriend.”

I mouth a
thank you
to him and he scowls at me. I deserved that, I guess.

Dad sizes Ben up as he shakes the guy’s hand firmly. “Ben Hayes…Marshall Keyes, senior. This is my wife Willy Keyes,” he introduces.

“Wilhemina
Keyes,” mom corrects, shooting daggers at dad

“Her room is this way,” Ben says, leading us down the hall to where Delilah is.

This was a breakthrough. I think I had feared for no reason at all. Aside from that slap in the face and Ben almost abandoning Delilah, it worked out after all. I know my parents might take a few days to come to terms with the fact that we both lied to them and it resulted in Delilah’s near demise, but it will all work out, I feel it. My parents don’t hold our mistakes against us.