The Gentlewoman (38 page)

“Why would you do this to me, Rory? I love you. I’ve always
loved you. Even when you wouldn’t let me.” His voice was bewildered and crazy.

She lay there, pain coursing through her leg, her stomach,
her face and throat. “Let me go, Shane. I don’t love you. I love Jackson.”

He stared down at her with deadly hatred. “We’ll see about
that.” In a rage, he hauled her up and over his shoulder. He swayed but got his
balance and hefted them both up the steps to her bedroom. He threw her on the
bed.

She tried to back away but he pulled her back. He held her
against him, talking into her ear. He was still breathing hard.

“You don’t love that fucking gigolo. It’s just the confusion
you’ve had since your dad died. You don’t love Dorn. I’m the one who was here
with you after your husband attacked you. I’m the one who stayed with you and
took care of you. I knew you needed time. That’s why you made me leave. But now
we’re going to try it again. Right here. The last place we were together. We’re
going to be together again and you’ll remember how it felt.”

She struggled against him but he held tight. “Now I tell you
what.” He slammed her down on the mattress, sitting on her chest and holding
her arms down with his knees again. He breathed hard and wiped his face. The
blood dripped onto Rory. She struggled to breath with his weight on her chest.

“I’m going to remind you what you denied me, what you denied
us. But first, we’re going to remove that ring from your finger. My woman will
not wear another man’s ring!”

He moved to grab Rory’s left hand. New adrenaline shot
through her. Nobody was taking that ring from her finger. That was her
connection to Jackson, her lifeline. Shane went for her hand. She formed a fist
with her other hand and punched him across the face with all her might. He went
sailing backward, off balance but not down. He quickly scrambled forward again
and lay on top of her to suppress her movement.

He reached up and grabbed her hair hard, holding her face to
his. “You bitch!” he screamed into her face. He rose and slapped her over and
over, his hand raising high and coming down hard.

Rory took every hit to the face. She was here again. Beaten
and probably going to die.

But she couldn’t be. Her life was so different from three
years ago, or even six months ago. She had everything to live for. She wanted
to live.

In her desperation, she latched on to Shane’s back. She
thought she was going crazy when, for the second time in her life, she felt her
assailant’s gun tucked into his waistband. In a swift move of memory, she
pulled the gun. She pointed it at his head and tried to pull the trigger. Shane
knocked it out of her hand and it went flying across the room.

He grabbed her by the throat again and squeezed. “You
worthless bitch. This is the thanks I get.”

Rory couldn’t breathe, but she fought. She fought against
his hands and hold because her life with Jackson depended on it, the life she
wanted to live.

She gasped and gulped for air as he choked her. She fought
and desperately wondered why. Why? She considered all she’d already lost in
life and it all came flooding back to her mind as Shane tried to choke the life
from her.

She thought of losing her mother and father, her baby, and
for a long time, so much of herself. It saddened her. But more than that,
through the suffocating hold, it fucking pissed her off that she was here
again, in danger of losing an even better life. In danger of losing her life
with Jackson.

That thought bolstered her. With one last spurt of pure
adrenaline, Rory reared back with her hand. With strength and accuracy,
fighting for her right to have a life beyond the shame and hurt of the past,
Rory stabbed her fingers straight into Shane’s eye. She grabbed onto his
eyeball, digging into the eye socket, tearing out the flesh in that cavity.
With a fierce and primal scream, she pulled out a handful of organ and tissue.

She didn’t wait to be overcome by the nature of what she had
done. Shane writhed and screamed and she pushed him hard. She flung herself
across her bedroom floor. She grasped desperately for the gun. She gripped it
in her hand and turned, pointing the weapon across the room at him. She pulled
the trigger again and again and again, the blasts ringing in her ears. She
didn’t stop until the clicking of the empty chamber was all she could hear.

Rory lowered the weapon. She was on her ass on the floor.
She held her breath, staying stock-still in case he moved again. She stayed
frozen for a long time. She listened for any breathing but heard none. Finally
she dropped her head. After a moment she began to move, trying to stand.

It took her several tries, her leg in sharp pain. She
dragged it behind her. She looked around at the bloody room. Shane lay on the
floor, a mess of blood and holes. She breathed out and looked toward the door,
anesthetized and yet mesmerized by the violence that had happened again.

She took a step and dragged her leg, took another and
another. She slowly hopped downstairs, stair by stair. She made her way
haltingly and painfully to her front door, thinking to go outside and call out
for help.

The first thing she noticed when she opened the door was
that the sun had come out. It was so bright it almost blinded her, but it
struck her as beautiful. The second was that there were cars screeching to a
halt in front of her house. Jackson was running toward her, as if in slow
motion.

She looked up into his face and felt such consolation and
relief that tears began to flow. Tears came hard, born of disbelief and
abhorrence.

Her strength drained. She fell to a sitting position on the
front step. Jackson stopped abruptly in front of her, devastated and breathing
hard, sobbing as he ran his hands over her body. He demanded to know where she
was injured and asked over and over if she was okay. He took her right hand, prying
free the pistol she hadn’t known she still held. He tossed it aside and lifted
her, holding her tightly as he consoled her, her cheek against his rock-hard
chest. He held her tightly as officers and agents ran around them and into her
house.

In the aftermath, Rory felt mostly numbness and disbelief.
She and Jackson were ushered into an ambulance. Jackson sat with her cradled in
his arms as she was checked over. He was grim and apologetic, cursing himself
that he hadn’t gotten to her in time.

In her bewildered, teary state, she finally put her hand on
his sweet cheek and whispered, “Jackson, this wasn’t your fault. There was no
way you could have known.”

He stared at her through beautiful, distressed eyes. “Oh
Rory…my beautiful Rory…”

She reached up and kissed his mouth hard to get his
attention. “I’m okay.” She stared into his eyes to be sure he got the point.
“I’m okay.”

He stared back for a moment before nodding his head and
tucking her under his chin again. He held her tightly as the paramedics
assessed her condition.

Rory was treated in the emergency room for multiple
contusions on her face, neck and hands. The face and neck had been from Shane
attacking her. The hands were from her fighting back. Her left kneecap was
dislocated and she was immediately admitted for corrective surgery. The doctor
assured her she would be running again in no time.

As the doctor left the room, she looked at Jackson. He stood
guard, never leaving her side.

“Landon?” she whispered hoarsely.

Jackson slowly came forward and eased onto the side of the
gurney.

“I saw,” he whispered back, pushing her hair back from her
forehead. “He’s gone.”

Rory closed her eyes as the tears slid down her cheeks. They
didn’t say anything else for a long time. Jackson held her hand in both of his,
caressing her as she quietly sobbed. She had so many questions but didn’t voice
them. She felt as though they would further overwhelm her.

The police came soon enough to question her. They knocked
and entered the private room. Two Cleveland police officers and a Homeland
agent showed her and Jackson their IDs.

“Congresswoman Morgan, we have to question you and try to
have you make a statement. We know you’re on your way to surgery, so we
understand if we need to continue this tomorrow.” The Homeland agent stood
against the wall, content to let the officers lead.

“Certainly,” she rasped, scooting herself slowly up on the
gurney. Jackson helped her move her immobilized knee.

“We worked for your father, ma’am,” the second police
officer said. “It was an honor to serve with him.”

Rory looked up, caught off guard. New tears sprung to her
eyes. “Oh…thank you,” she gasped quietly.

At the officers’ gentle questioning, Rory took them through
her day. She learned a lot herself. They were willing to tell her what they
knew, unofficially.

They had found her assigned Secret Service agent by the
river, his neck snapped. That was why he never made it to City Hall. That was
courtesy of Shane, they assumed.

As the facts were sorted out, the picture became clear.
Shane had been the one doing all those things in DC. The open door, the baby
doll and Tagg’s murder would probably all lead back to him. Mr. Lucas had
already confirmed seeing Shane at the house several times.

Roan Sullivan turned out to be the cover story Shane was
using to try to control her life and punish her for her perceived wrongdoings.
Rory filled the police in on her history with Shane, and it all made perfect
sense. The sorrow that filled her was incredible. She struggled to stay away
from blaming herself for Shane’s obsession.

Finally the Homeland agent, sent by Reynolds, spoke up. The
fact that Roan Sullivan was actually in town was just twist of fate. From all
indications, Roan was never seeking Rory. But the business with Landon was
confusing. Information was lacking. The authorities were questioning various
individuals, including Bruce Garrison, since the dead men were meeting in his
office. The implication was pretty clear to everybody, including Rory. As
grief-stricken as she was, she knew that his name would not be cleared of
wrongdoing.

The hospital staff returned. Jackson accompanied them as
they took Rory into pre-op. They inserted IVs and prepped her. He held her hand
as they waited for her to be wheeled into the operating room.

Rory felt something wet hit her hand and looked at Jackson.
He smiled at her through his tears.

“I feel like I almost lost you today,” he whispered. “I…I
can’t believe how quickly I could have lost you…”

Rory squeezed his hand. “It’s over now. It’s over for good.”

She reached up to caress his cheek. “Oh Rory…”

“It’s over, Jackson. It’s over and it’s all going to be
okay,” she assured him.

And somehow she felt it. Through her grief and her
bewilderment over the last eight hours, she had a feeling of closure. Even with
her lingering suspicions about Landon, she knew she would be closing a chapter
of her life that had needed closing for a long time. And that made her feel
better than she had ever felt.

Rory felt as if she were floating on a cloud, but she knew
she wasn’t. As she looked upward, she could see the beautiful sky was where it
should be. It was blue and clear and bright. She was standing in a grove. She
was standing in the apple grove at the farm.

She looked around. It was as she remembered it, down the
lane from the house and sloped down from the gulley. It was a beautiful day.
Rather than worry about what she was doing back here, she lifted her face to
the sun that warmed it. She breathed in the fresh air tinged with the smell of
earth and the sweet scent of apples.

“Let’s pick apples, Rory Elizabeth!” a familiar voice called
out from behind her and she turned quickly. Her father stood beside the largest
apple tree, the one they were all spawned from.

A moment of disbelief stole her voice. She moved forward,
drawn to him.

“Daddy,” she gasped as she grew closer.

He turned and smiled at her, shoving a Red Delicious in his
bag.

“The apples are ripe with the season, lassie. Best be ready
to harvest now.”

She stared at him. He looked as he had, so large and
healthy, filled with laughter and life. Oh how she marveled that even though
her loving memories had been vivid, the image was truly dulled compared to
being next to him.

But how was this? Where was she?

“Daddy, where are we?”

He laughed and looked back at her. “Here in our orchard.
Where we loved to be.”

She watched as he continued to pick apples and place them in
his bag.

“Daddy, I miss you terribly. Every day I think of you and
miss you and Mama…”

She trailed off as he turned to her. “We miss you too, Rory
Elizabeth, and we love you. But you must go on your way now.”

Tears sprang to Rory’s eyes and she looked around. “I’d
almost rather stay with you,” she said softly.

“Well, lassie, that’s been part of the problem, hasn’t it.
You have to let go and live. That’s why we put you here.”

He stepped back from the tree and looked deeply into her
eyes. “Have a dance with me, like we used to.” He came forward and took her in
his arms.

She breathed in his scent, the same she remembered since she
was a child. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his loving arms around
her. Her tears fell as she savored her father’s embrace. It had been so long
since she had felt it.

They danced slowly awhile, and then he stepped back. She
leaned into his hand as he wiped a tear from her face.

“You’ve shed so many tears. It’s time for you to let go and
move on.”

“It’s so hard, Daddy. After Aidan, and now Landon is gone in
some sort of trouble…”

“Shhh, little one, I know. Things were done to us and around
us that aren’t right and weren’t of our doing. But in the end, it is just as it
is, and you must move on. It’s time. It’s time for you to follow your love and
live life.”

“Oh Daddy, I wish you were with me,” she cried.

“I’m always with you, Rory Elizabeth, always.” He looked
around the orchard, then met her eyes again. “But you have to live now. Without
guilt and shame for what transpired and without the feeling that your life
isn’t meant to be. You go now, and truly live. Take our love and live, like
this orchard takes the sun and earth and makes apples. Live and love and move
on. Always move on and know that we love you… We love you…”

Rory opened her eyes and gasped. She looked quickly around
but saw only the hospital room she lay in. Jackson was asleep in a recliner.
She looked around again, sure she could still smell the orchard.

“How are you?” Jackson said, waking and moving forward to
her. He sat on the side of her bed. “Are you okay? You look frightened.”

“No,” she said in a parched voice. She cleared her throat.
“Just surprised.” She wiped a tear away.

Jackson brought her a cup of water and put the straw to her
lips. “How do you feel?”

She thought about the question. Besides the aching bruises
on her body and the fact that her leg was elevated and very heavy in an
immobilizer, she felt okay. She actually felt peaceful.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

He looked at her and shook his head.

“Come here,” she said, unfolding her arms. He laid his head
gently on her chest. She held him for some time.

“Jackson, I meant what I said. None of this is your fault.
Nobody could have known what was going on or what was going to happen.”

He lifted his head and she looked into his eyes. They were
beautiful and haunted. “I died a thousand deaths trying to get to you,” he
whispered.

“I know. And it’s over. Done. And I’m fine. I want us to put
this behind us and move on. Keep going and build that life we made the pact to
build.”

He snorted and smiled at her. “Wow, you’ve come a long way,
haven’t you, baby?”

“Yes. Thanks to you. I didn’t do anything to deserve what
happened to me, then or now. And even though it hurts like hell to think of
Landon and this mess…I’m going to move on. I’ll grieve and be sad, but I will
move on. I want our life. Let’s get out of here and put it back together.”

He smiled at her and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m not
going to be able to let you out of my sight for a while.”

“That’s so fine with me,” she breathed, relieved to see him
coming around.

He laid his head back down and nuzzled her. “You’re going to
have to marry me very soon.”

“My pleasure, Jackson,” she said. “As soon as we possibly
can.”