Scattered Thoughts (Betrayed by Love Book 1)

BOOK: Scattered Thoughts (Betrayed by Love Book 1)
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Scattered Thoughts

Betrayed by Love
, Book 1

 

HD KELLEY

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2016 HD Kelley

 

All rights reserved.

 

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real person, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

 

This book is intended for mature adults only.

 

 

ISBN: 0-9974335-5-8

ISBN-13: 978-0-9974335-5-5

 

 

PUBLISHED BY GREEN WAY PUBLISHING

www.greenwaypublishing.com

 

 

Disclaimer:

This book is not suitable for younger readers. There is strong language, adult situations, and some violence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

A special thank you goes out to my family for their patience during this journey, and to my best friend, Christine, for her encouragement
in the early stages, without which I may not have finished. And a very special thank you to God for giving me the courage to follow my dreams.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scattered Thoughts

Table of Contents

 

HD Kelley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

My eyelids were heavy and I struggled to hold them open. Something was covering my face. I pulled my arms toward it but they wouldn’t move. I pulled again, even harder this time, still nothing. My arms were tied. My heart started to race and my breathing quickened. I twisted and turned, tugging against the restraints, trying to get
free.

“Welcome back,” a raspy voice whispered breathlessly against my ear. My body stiffened when I smelled it, alcohol and tobacco plus something else; a familiar sweet smell.

“Who are you?” I opened my mouth to ask but no sound came out. I couldn’t speak. Everything was moving in slow motion.

There was a faint noise in the background. I concentrated hard on the sound, blocking out everything else around me. Violins and flutes were flirtatiously moving through the melody. I’d heard it before
but
couldn’t
place
it
now.
My
head
was
too
foggy.
The
music was too
low.

He ran his mouth down my cheek, stopping at my chin, biting it softly. His hand was in my hair. He pulled hard, jerking my head back,
exposing
my
neck.
His
mouth
was
on
mine.
My
jaw
tightened as I pressed my lips together, trying my hardest to resist his efforts. He pulled my hair harder. When I cried out he won, pushing his tongue
deep
inside
my
mouth
in
a
hardened
kiss.
His
taste
was
even worse than his
smell.

“Stop!”
I
pleaded
when
he
finally
pulled
away,
but
my
voice
was barely audible. He released my hair and the music suddenly got louder.
I
recognized
the
eerie
sound
of
the
church
bells;
Dreams
of
a Witches’ Sabbath
. My body tensed once more as the bassoons and tubas barked out the haunting chant for the dead. My heart was beating so fast it left me
breathless.

“Beg
me,”
he
whispered,
his
mouth
against
my
ear
once
again.

Tears
rolled
down
my
cheeks.
“Please,”
I
begged.

A sudden pain in my ribs made me lose my breath. “Please what?” he shouted. I opened my mouth to answer but was still to breathless to make a sound. “Please what?” he screamed. The pain came again before I could answer that had me gasping for air that time.

“Stop! Please stop!” I said with panted breaths.

“Not until it’s gone, Bella. All of it.” He turned my head to the side and I felt a sharp pinch on my neck. My eyelids closed. I wanted to open them again but they were too heavy.

“What’s gone…?” I asked, my voice fading fast.

 

• • • • •

 

I jolted upright in bed. Sweat covered my body, my face was flush,
my
breathing
ragged.
“It
was
only
a
nightmare,
Izzy,”
I
said out loud trying to reassure myself of that now. I took a few deep breaths in an attempt to slow my breathing and calm my racing heart.
In
through
my
nose
and
out
through
my
mouth,
focusing
on each
breath
as
it
passed
my
lips.

It was still dark outside, too early to be up really, but I knew I’d never go back to sleep now. Not with the memory of that nightmare still
fresh
in
my
mind.
My
head
felt
foggy,
a
side
effect
of
waking
up breathless I suppose, but I did my best to shake it off as I crawled slowly
out
of
bed.

My
whole
body
objected
as
I
stood.
I
grabbed
the half empty bottle of Advil off the nightstand and popped two 
pills into my mouth, swallowing them without water.

A sharp pain pierced my side when I pulled my nightshirt over my head but I ignored it like I had all the rest. They were only dreams after all; the pain couldn’t possibly be real. I continued to dress for my morning workout then headed downstairs to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

The moon was reflecting off the surface of the water through the bay window in the breakfast nook. I stared out into the darkness, quickly getting lost in the peacefulness of the predawn hours, something I’d been doing a lot of these past four months. Sleep had quickly become a fading memory since that package arrived.

I’d thought it was a birthday present when the courier handed it to me. It had been my birthday after all and the box was wrapped in beautiful pink and silver paper. Only it wasn’t a gift at all. No, it was my worst nightmare coming true; a box full of pictures of naked women and a letter claiming my husband of nineteen years was a sexual sadist.

There were dozens of photographs. Women trussed up in a myriad of sexual positions, suspended from the ceiling by chains and leather cuffs, tied to a bed, to a wooden cross. Red marks and bruises all over their bodies, masks covering their faces effectively hiding their
identities.

Tears pricked my eyes as I recalled the moment I’d confronted Spencer with the contents of that package. His eyes turned to stone when he saw them. A cold look I’d never seen there before. He’d insisted he didn’t know those women. He’d demanded I believe it wasn’t him positioned just far enough out of frame that his face was never completely visible.

“Damn it, Bella. You have to believe me. That isn’t me,” he’d said.

“If it isn’t you then why were they hand delivered to me?” I’d shouted, unable to hide the disgust, the hurt, the anger I was feeling. “Why the hell would someone send me this trash then?”
I’d demanded to know.

“To hurt us,” he’d said simply, his icy stare still etched in my memory. He’d begged me to believe him but I’d filed for divorce instead.

“What if it
wasn’t
him in those pictures?” I thought now. Tears rolled
slowly
down
my
cheeks
as
I
mourned
the
loss
of
our
nineteen year
marriage.

The coffee pot beeped, bringing me back to the here and now. I wiped the tears from my face, poured myself a cup of the hot liquid and carried it outside into the cool morning air.

A strong sea breeze pushed the waves onshore. I closed my eyes and let my mind get lost in the sound but it quickly drifted back to Spencer. How could he do that to me, to us? We’d been so happy together, so in love, at least that’s what I’d thought.

Tears rolled down my cheeks again, but this time I let them fall. I needed to let my pain out so I could finally move on. And I was more than ready to move on.

A
strong
gust
of
wind
rushed
over
me,
leaving
me
feeling
cold.
I shook my head, wishing I could shake it hard enough to erase the images of those women from my mind. Setting my now cold coffee aside I pulled a bottle of water out of the mini fridge on the patio and headed out for my morning
run.

I jogged slowly onto Beachview Drive, picking up speed with every
step
as
I
wondered
if
I’d
ever
be
able
pick
up
the
pieces
of
my broken heart. Faster and faster I pushed, trying to outrun the pain I was
feeling,
until
my
lungs
were
screaming
for
air.
I
inhaled
deeply, but a sharp pain in my ribs stole my breath bringing me to a sudden stop.

I coughed as I struggled to catch my breath, instinctively reaching for my side but unable to still the pain. For a moment I thought it was my heart ripping in two from the pain of losing someone
else
I
loved
so
completely.
I
was
five
when
my
mom
left
us but I still remember the pain of knowing she was really gone like it was yesterday. I’d thought I’d never experience pain that bad
again, but I was wrong. Losing Spencer, having my family ripped apart, hurt so much worse.

When the coughing finally stopped I turned back around and jogged slowly toward home, doing my best to maintain even breaths while I pushed through the pain. As bad as my side hurt I was happy to have something to focus on other than my failed marriage.

The sun had just started to rise when I made it back to the house. I went straight upstairs to shower. The pain in my ribs reminded me of that terrible dream that woke me as I pulled my t-shirt over my head. I stepped out of my shorts and panties and climbed into the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe my aching
body.

After I dried off I slipped into a pair of linen pants and a long sleeve tee, my favorite work-from-home outfit. It was an arrangement I’d recently negotiated, but one my boss wasn’t thrilled with. “A small concession, I suppose,” he’d finally agreed when I refused to let it go. In return for his generosity I agreed to
try
to be at the office one day a week, although I hadn’t made it in at all during the past three weeks with my new self-imposed travel
schedule.

Spencer and I decided to hold off telling the kids about the divorce
until
after
graduation,
but
with
the
words
sexual
sadist
still fresh
in
my
mind
I
hadn’t
been
at
all
thrilled
about
sleeping
under the same roof as him so I had volunteered for nearly every out
of town project in the past four months.

Shaking all thoughts of Spencer and our pending divorce from my mind, I headed downstairs
to
start
work.

Anna was in the kitchen making breakfast when I popped in for a second cup of coffee. “Good morning, sweetie,” I said.

“Good
morning,
Mom.
I’m
making
chocolate
chip
pancakes.
You want
some?”

Food had been the farthest thing from my mind recently, yet another side effect of all the stress I’d been under. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Anna tilted her head to one side. “Your loss,” she said with a crooked smile that reminded me of Spencer. Tears pricked my eyes and I knew I had to get out of there before she started asking questions.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and hurried to the sanctity of my home office. With its large picture window overlooking the Choctawhatchee Bay and sunbeam colored walls the room felt vibrant and alive. It used to be my favorite room in the house with its grand view of the sunset, but lately it had become my escape, my safe place to hide from all the hurt I so desperately wanted to escape from.

My desk was littered with papers, another reminder of the funk I’d been in. Stacks of unopened mail, contracts I still needed to review, notes I’d scribbled on scraps of paper haphazardly strewn across my desk like snowflakes, each one its own unique shape and size. Pretending to still be madly in love with Spencer, when the mere sight of him made my skin crawl, was definitely taking its toll.

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