Rose of Betrayal (53 page)

           
Clinging to the last straw of hope,
wondering if she had misread the check, a hand shaking uncontrollably claimed
it to acquire a closer look.
 
With
eyelids blinking frantically, she re-read it repeatedly, her mind roaring.
  
Candy that was her name wasn't it.
 
The girl Ted said Brad raped, abandoned, and
then bought off.
  
Like a magnifying class,
her eyes zoomed in on the words, “Child Support,” noted on the bottom.
 
Brad got Candy pregnant, deserted her, his
child and thought money could erase the injustice committed.
 
He was nothing more than a Goddamn Gigolo.

           
Ted never told her about the
child.
 
Of course, Brad was his best
friend.
 
Maybe Ted did not want to
remember all of Brad's horrible past.
 
God
only knew what else there was about Brad Johnson that Ted never told her.

           
Wrapping arms around her waist to
stabilize her trembling, she quickly released one hand to cover her mouth
feeling sure the contents of her empty stomach would spill forward.
  
Oh, no, she screamed inwardly.
 
The storm thundering in her mind brought on a
lightning bolt of truth striking her face.
 
Neither one of them thought about protection, she could have conceived,
if so, Brad had made her another one of his victims.

           
Grabbing the link to her rescue,
quickly punching out Peter's number summoned her limo.
 
Ripping off Brad's jacket, quiet as a mouse
she made her way to the chair where

her coat had been
tossed.
 
With more speed than she ever
imagined possible, bare feet put enough space between her and the sleeping ogre
before he woke and gobbled her alive.
 
           

CHAPTER 42

“NEW YEARS
DAY, 2011”

           
An
obscure ceiling hovered above Sam as eyelids slipped slowly open.
 
Her mind remained muddled from the lingering
effects of Bernie's special antidote for the blues; a concoction of several
favored alcoholic beverages and Tylenol.
 
Her memory sluggishly breaking through the dense vapor shot to full
alert when hearing a familiar voice in the other room.

           
“Yes,
Ted, she's fine.
 
We worked late last
night finishing the gowns and became so engrossed we lost tract of the
time.
 
Neither of us heard the phone ring
or the doorbell, I'm sorry.
 
I assumed
she called you.
  
God, can't you let her
out of your sight.
 
She's sleeping.
 
She's exhausted.
 
If you want her in shape for the wedding, she
needs rest.
 
You will see her tonight.
 
O.K. I will.”

           
Unwelcomed
memories of what took place the night before began replaying before Sam's
mind's eye.
 
Trying to cry quietly, the
painful sobs hurt her chest so badly she had to allow them to escape.
           
Amazingly Bernie did not interrogate
her at first, considering her appearance. Opening the door, she welcomed her
limp, sobbing body into the folds of her arms and allowed time for venting
emotions.
 
Then, without uttering a word,
preparing a hot bath she added a potion to the water providing white foaming
bubbles and a pleasant aroma for soothing nerves.
 
Placing a glass of Brandy on the toilet lid
next to the tub, she retreated to the living room.

           
Pouring
herself a double shot of whiskey Bernie collapsed on the couch perplexed as to
what Brad did to Sam to cause such a state, and secretly wishing she had a
double barrel shot gun to use on his most private parts.
 
Imagining what must have happened, the only
reasonable explanation for Sam's nudity and bare feet, still left her wondering
why Sam ran away.

           
While
soaking up the pleasures of her bath, Sam's thoughts festered.
 
Why didn’t Ted or Bernie tell her about
Brad's child?
  
Without moving or batting
an eyelash, her desperate need for answers came to a head.
 
Cloaked in Bernie's robe Sam entered the
living room, plopped in a chair opposite Bernie and stared beyond her.
 
She could have cried more if there were any
tears left.
 
Emotions made people cry,
right now she felt numb.
 

Taking an occasional sip of whiskey,
Bernie waited patiently for Sam to enlighten her, unprepared for what she was
about to learn.

“Do you know a Candy Ewing?”

“No, can't say that I've ever heard
the name before,” Bernie answered feeling more puzzled than before.

“She's a friend of Ted and . . .
Brad's from Wyoming.”

Bernie's brow wrinkled.
 
She was certain she knew all there was about
the two bandits.
 
“That's funny they
never . . . “
 

“Do you know Brad has a child?”

           
Glass
held to her mouth prepared to take another sip, sucking in more than she
intended Bernie expelled whiskey that splattered down her chin.
 
With the back of her hand swiping at the
overflow, she reiterated, “He what?”
 
Then,
began to laugh as she continued, “Sam, you must be
mis
. . .”

Far from amused with Bernie's
attitude of obvious disbelief, Sam sneered, “He does.
 
He raped Candy, bought her off, and abandoned
them both.”

The announcement cloaked Bernie in
shock.
 
She had to shake her senses to
clear them before continuing, “Did Brad tell you this?”

“Not exactly, I accidentally found
out.”

“Well?
 
What did he have to say?”

“He doesn’t know I know.”

           
Last
nights’ scene seemed clearer to Bernie now.
 
She was certain Sam simply over reacted.
 
“Sammy, I'm sure there’s an explanation, you should have confronted Brad
and

given . . . “

Leaning forward in the chair, her
fingers gripping the arms, Sam screamed, “No!
 
I don't ever want to see or hear from him again.”

           
“He's
Ted's best man for God's sake you will see him tonight, tomorrow.
 
I've known Brad for a long time and believe
me if he had a child he would announce it to the world.
 
God, he would have his child so damn high on
a pedestal no one could touch it.
 
He
love's kids.
 
Christ, he's been like a
father to Maggie's children.”

           
Jerking
herself to a standing position Sam began measuring the floor from one wall to
the other stomping feet halting only long enough to grab Bernie's glass to
ingest the remaining whiskey.
 
Turning
bright red from choking on the liquid despite the fire burning her throat it
did not deter her from her vendetta.

           
Someone
had to defend Brad.
 
Bernie felt she had
earned the right.
 
“Sam, look at
you.
 
Stop and take a long look at
yourself.
 
Can you tell me the real
reason you're so upset?”
 

           
Pausing,
Sam fired a look that would have chilled anyone to the bone, other than Bernie
she did not flinch.
 

           
“Brad
made love to you, didn't he?
 
You liked
it.
 
In fact, you liked it a little too
much.
 
You are upset because you
discovered you love the idiot, and frightened by the prospect you might not be
able to hold on to him.”

           
The
accuracy of Bernie's perception was more than Sam could bear.
 
Clenching fists at her sides moving to face
her friend, she spit words like venom between her teeth.
 
“I could never love anyone so full of deceit,
lies.
 
Someone so careless with love and
life that

he abandoned a pregnant woman, his
child.
 
Brad thinks money can buy him
everything, and then wiggles his finger to summon another victim for his
trap.
 
He doesn't know the first thing
about love, honesty, and faithfulness.”

           
Little
did Sam know the man she had just described was not Brad, but the one she was
going to marry?
 
Until hearing it
straight from Brad’s mouth, she would not believe a word of it. Even if it were
true, it would not matter, knowing him well there had to be a motive for such
behavior.
  
If Brad walked through her
door and asked her to go to hell with him she would, her love for him
unconditional.

           
While
Sam continued to rant, Bernie sat motionless, tears flooding her eyes spilling
down her cheeks as she relived those precious moments shared with Brad.
  
Sam was so, young, so naïve, undeserving of
the kind of love he had to offer.
  
He
was a very special man, the rarest of his breed.
 
Youth would aid in erasing him from Sam's
mind, it was Brad's recovery troubling her.

           
Knowing
how much he loved Sam and what she herself would give to be in Sam's shoes, Bernie
drew upon her own feelings to decipher how destroyed he must be.
 
The urge to go to him, comfort him was so
oppressive she pulled her knees to her chin and hugged them tightly to control
her trembling, to stop her feet from running to him.
 
What a fool he was to waste his love on a
girl so inexperienced with men.
 
Recovery
for him would not be an easy road to travel. Trepidation filled her wondering
if he would come barging through the door any minute, but as soon as the
thought split her mind she knew he wouldn't.
 
He was a proud man who would interpret Sam's abandonment as her
resolution to choose Ted over him.

           
Having
suspended her utterances several minutes ago, stationed beside the sofa
observing Bernie, stunned Sam was by the alterations in Bernie's features, her
tears.
 
She chastised herself for being
so unappreciative of Bernie's friendship, for being so verbally abusive.
 
How foolish she was for forgetting Bernie once
loved Brad and that he had used her and walked away.
 
The need to apologize brought her to her
knees beside her friend. “I'm so sorry, Bernie, I didn't mean to hurt you.
 
Honest!
 
It was thoughtless of me.”

           
Facing her, reaching out, placing a
hand on each of Sam's arms just above the elbows, Bernie lectured, “I know I'm
just an old fool, but don't you think you should call off the wedding.
 
You are so young with your whole life ahead
of you.
 
Take the time to think about
what has happened.
 
Give Brad a chance to
explain.
 
He . . . he . . . “

           
Rung out like a dishrag, her chest
felt making it impossible for Bernie to look Sam directly in the eye.
 
Yet, she could not live with herself if she
did not tell her she simply had to.
 
“He's . . . he's in love with you.
 
He is crazy about you.
 
He told me
so and even if he hadn't, I knew.”

           
In a reflexive gesture of sympathy,
Sam touched Bernie's cheek, “If he was he would have told me.
 
He would have told me last night after we . .
. after . . .
 
I could never love someone
I can’t trust.
 
Oh Bernie, I've really
messed things up for the two of you haven't I.”
 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..………………………..…………………………………..................................................................

           
Body shivering from the cold, Brad
reached for the form that had given him such wonderful pleasure and warmth only
to grasp empty space.
 
Jerking up, his
eyes flicked frantically around the room.
 
           
Assuming Sam went
downstairs in search of the thermostat, he bounced out of bed tugging on sweat
pants carelessly tossed aside in the wake of their passion.
 
The mere thought of her made a surge of joy
burst within him reminding him it had been a long time since feeling like his
old familiar self, calm, balanced, happy.