Somebody’s Perfect

by Kallypso Masters

  When Adam returned with a small bottle of water, another flash of memory bombarded her. Lyle handed her a glass of punch the night of that party. But she didn’t remember anything that followed—except in brief snatches here and there.

  Did he drug me?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Gentry grinned evilly at her then pulled out an eight-by-ten photo and held it out to the bailiff to present in the overhead.

  The DA stood. “Objection. Procedure. Permission to approach the court.”

  Abbott and Sullivan both went forward and examined the photo, said a few words to the judge, nodded, and returned to their tables. “Objection withdrawn, Your Honor.”

  “Exhibit is accepted. Bailiff, you may publish the photo.”

  As if aware of the hold he still had on her, Gentry grinned while Savannah turned her gaze to where the photo would be projected. Her heart racing, she waited, having no clue what it might depict. Then it came up and she stared in horror at a young Savannah standing next to Gentry. She truly looked like the Cinderella princess Gentry had described at her eighteenth birthday party.

  Her heart began racing, and her palms became sweaty. Something awful happened to her wearing that dress, because it was the same white dress she’d seen herself wearing when she’d been triggered during the wax play scene. Was that on her eighteenth birthday, the way he’d described it? Did that really happen?

  She studied the photo more, looking for answers. Her hair had been piled high on her head similar to the Disney princess’s updo. Tendrils curled around the sides of her neck, leading the eye down to the princess cut gown with its form-fitted bodice and billowy skirt. There was a smile on her face. Had he forced her to smile liked that? But it seemed genuine. Had she actually been happy that night?

  No, her sketchy flashes of memories of her wearing that dress didn’t mesh with Gentry’s glowing narrative. Bile rose in her throat. There were so many holes in her memory. What if she couldn’t remember what had happened and the jury was left with only this image?

  Were her flashbacks actually from that night or one of the many other nights where she’d been turned over to Gentry’s associates?

  Did it matter? She had enough stories to tell that would refute the glowing picture he tried to paint of his fathering skills.

  But she hadn’t dreamed up those flashbacks. Men surrounding her. Penises in hand. While her memory was unclear, something awful had happened to her the night that photo was taken. Her stomach began to churn again.

  Without waiting for the judge to call a recess, she edged in front of Adam and ran from the courtroom. She’d made it halfway to the bathroom when she heard Damián telling her he was right behind her. Inside the stall, she lifted the seat, bent over, and lost her lunch. The sound of someone entering the bathroom sent her into dry heaves. After a few minutes with no more vomiting or gagging, she reached for a wad of tissue and wiped her mouth. She wished she had her purse so she could suck on a mint to get rid of the nasty taste.

  Oh, God. How was she going to go back in there and face the courtroom after having such a meltdown? She’d remained poised throughout this ordeal, right up until Gentry made her question what was real and what was made up.

  “Querida, are you okay?”

  Damián? He’d followed her into the ladies’ room? Knowing he was so near lifted her spirits a little, and she flushed and left the stall to be wrapped immediately in his arms and held like the cherished princess she was to him.

  “Shh. It’s okay, bebé. The truth’s going to come out when you get your turn to set the record straight.”

  She pulled away and looked up at him. “But I can’t remember everything. How can I refute what he’s saying if I don’t remember what happened that night?”

  “That was only one night of many. So what if he gave you a party to celebrate your eighteenth birthday? That doesn’t negate all the times he raped and tortured you, savita. Nothing has changed because of one silly photo.”

  She hoped he was right but didn’t know what to think anymore. “Let me freshen up before we go back.” She turned to the sink to cup water in her hands to rinse out her mouth when Damián’s body heat infused her. “I grabbed your purse. Maybe you have some mints or something in there.”

  She stood, her eyes lighting on the bag. “Oh, thank you!” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “You’re my hero.”

  He chuckled just when the door opened. A woman stepped inside, looked at the two of them, and then blushed. “Sorry. I’ll come back.” She left quickly.

  “I think you’d better wait outside before you get arrested for being a perv or something,” she teased.

  “I’ll be waiting right outside for you.”

  She scooped up water from the faucet and swirled it in her mouth before popping a mint and staring at herself in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes spoke to her lack of sleep recently. But now, the whites of her eyes were bloodshot from throwing up. Upon closer inspection, she realized her eyes looked dead, lacking all emotion. This wouldn’t do. She needed to go back in there the warrior princess Damián expected her to be. The warrior she knew herself to be, she corrected.

  I am strong.

  I can’t be beaten.

  I will tell my story.

  Standing tall, squaring her shoulders, she marched out of the bathroom. Damián’s appreciative smile fueled her courage before she noticed Adam standing next to him.

  “The judge called a recess at the DA’s request, so you haven’t missed anything.” He glanced at his watch.” We have another five minutes before they plan to reconvene.”

  Together, they walked leisurely back into the courtroom, Savannah between her protectors. Sullivan gave her a worried glance when she entered then motioned for her to come forward. After conferring with her over the bar and assuring her she was okay now, Savannah took her seat and waited for the judge to return. When court reconvened, Gentry took the stand again.

  Abbott cleared his throat, “Mr. Gentry, please continue.”

  “That night, my daughter changed. Suddenly, she couldn’t get enough of men.”

  Savannah’s eyes opened wide. Surely you aren’t going there.

  “She danced with just about every one of my business clients and allowed them to paw all over her, one even ripping her dress.”

  Apparently, you are.

  “I had to throw the beautiful gown away after that night. By night’s end, it was filled with semen from my nymphomaniac daughter’s sick liaisons in a closed off section of the ballroom. Apparently, she and my business partner, Lyle Gibson, had entered into a contract agreeing that she’d offer her body in exchange for money to my potential business clients. It started that night. I had no idea what those two were up to.”

  You filthy whore. The unspoken words reminded her of the vile accusations Lyle and Gentry had repeatedly made about her.

  No! She hadn’t willingly given herself to them. And he’d been the one to sign the contract—not Lyle, who only served as her handler and enforcer. She made a note on the pad. They’d both taken what they wanted against her will. She had signed that damned contract under duress and with coercion, fearing what would happen if she’d disobeyed either of them.

  A buzzing in her ears drowned out whatever he said afterward. Glimpses of a ruined dress flashed before her eyes. Her stomach roiled again as the smell of semen clinging to her bodice and exposed skin assailed her nostrils.

  “Soon you’ll be able to tell what really happened, querida.” Damián’s whispered words drew her back to the present. “No one will believe that old goat after you tell your story.”

  “The next thing I know, my daughter is propositioning my business associates in the penthouse of my very own hotel. I couldn’t believe it when I watched the videos from that night.”

  He’d filmed her that night, too? Had he gotten off watching that video?

  Savannah wanted to scream but didn’t want to anger the judge. Instead, she gulped air into he
r lungs and tried not to hyperventilate as she imagined her father masturbating to videos of her being assaulted and degraded that night and so many nights afterward.

  Damián stroked the back of her neck, and she almost melted against him. Thank God he was here to keep her grounded in the present.

  “My once sweet and innocent daughter was lost to me. I wanted to have nothing more to do with her, but I was still her father. I thought I could show her that she didn’t have to turn tricks to make it in this world. And yet I couldn’t very well turn her out onto the streets, so she continued to live in my mansion where I at least could make sure she was fed and clothed and didn’t go down a path of drug use on top of prostitution.”

  A need to vomit again threatened to send her back to the bathroom, but she refused to show him any sign that he was getting through to her.

  “Of course, I did have to have interventions from time to time, hoping to get her to turn her life around. And to think, her mother must have seen this in her from an early age. No wonder she’d tried to beat the evil out of the child all those times.”

  Savannah’s eyes narrowed. What on earth was he talking about? Was he merely trying to justify killing Maman by painting her as abusive? Would any juror believe his side of the story?

  “Elise was half-crazed the night she died, bragging that she’d found someone else to keep her and wouldn’t need my money any longer.”

  His money? It was always Maman’s money keeping him in a lavish lifestyle. Savannah jotted down more notes.

  “Elise threatened to kidnap my child and run away. I had to stop her. I had to try and protect my innocent daughter.”

  That’s not what happened at all!

  “And now my daughter’s memory has been twisted by that Mexican sitting next to her who has her brainwashed.”

  Damián’s arm tightened around her back. How could the judge and DA expect her to sit here quietly while Gentry told such blatant lies about her, her mother, and now her husband? A twinge in her back alerted her that she’d tensed up, and she tried to draw a breath, but her lungs remained too constricted.

  Say one more thing, you fucking bastard, and I will make sure the world knows the truth about you.

  Normally, Savannah didn’t use such language, even when speaking to herself, but he wasn’t going to come after Damián without making her royally pissed. She took another deep breath to compose herself and jotted down more notes. Then she waited for her turn.

  Gentry sneered at her, as if he thought he could beat her.

  I can’t be beaten.

  Never again.

  “Orlando was a bus boy in my restaurant and took it upon himself to drag her from the penthouse one morning, thinking she was being abused by some of her johns. He did who knows what with her before returning her to my house that night. She wound up getting pregnant, either by him or someone else she was with.”

  Another lie. Savannah blinked at his audacity, trying to figure out what any of this had to do with the case. What else was he going to twist around before he finished? She made another note to set the record straight.

  Soon, she could tell them what really happened, as much as she could remember, anyway.

  Savannah wouldn’t let him sully what she had with Damián. She leaned toward her husband and kissed him on the cheek. “If I haven’t told you lately, thank you for rescuing me that day.”

  “De nada.” He grinned at her. How the two of them could share such a moment in the midst of this was a testament to how secure she felt with him by her side. A peaceful calm overcame her, empowered by Damián’s love.

  Savannah turned back to Gentry, whose face had turned a mottled red as his gaze shot bullets toward them. Ineffective compared to the ones he’d used to take John Grainger’s life that night.

  You will never win.

  “All I’ve ever done is try to protect my daughter.” His voice cracked.

  Oh, please. No crocodile tears on top of all the lies and drama.

  “If that makes me guilty of something, then so be it.” He turned to the judge. “That is all I have to say.”

  “Would the People care to cross-examine the defendant at this time?” the judge asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor, but given the late hour, the People request an adjournment until tomorrow morning.”

  The judge checked the clock on the wall. It was after four. “Request granted. This court is adjourned until nine in the morning.” He banged the gavel.

  The District Attorney smiled reassuringly at Savannah and came over to ask if she might spend the rest of the hour discussing where Gentry had lied to better target her cross-examination as well as her questioning of Savannah during the more structured rebuttal.

  “Of course.” Savannah picked up her purse and tucked the notebook under her arm. “Thank you for the notebook. I’m not sure I’d have remembered every lie he told, given the emotions of the day.”

  Gentry had presented them with every opportunity the DA and Savannah had hoped for. At last, she’d soon be able to tell her complete story. While her childhood abuse and rapes weren’t part of the trial initially, Gentry had opened the door to introduce that part of her life with him.

  So why was her heart racing and her hands all sweaty? Because she wasn’t sure she could remember the things her mind had blocked out all these years.

  Pressing her fingers into her lower back, which had been aching all day, she wished she could crawl into bed and snuggle with Damián until the trial was over. If the guys asked to go out to eat tonight, she’d request they drop her off first or pick up some burgers and call it an early night.

  They opted for the latter, but she barely noticed the taste of the burger, even though it had come from one of her favorite places to take Mari for comfort food when they’d lived out here. Her body felt lethargic, and she went to bed almost immediately after eating, letting the world fade away.

  For a few hours, anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Damián never wanted to kill anyone so much in his life. What they’d put Savannah through in that courtroom today should have brought on new charges against Gentry.

  After the DA had discussed the things she could testify about, Sullivan had encouraged Damián to take her back to the lodge so she could rest up for tomorrow. They’d picked up carryout on the way, because no way was he letting her go to bed without eating.

  By seven o’clock, she lay curled on her side, arm and hand wrapped protectively around the baby bump. Even in sleep, she thought about the baby. Not wanting to disturb her rest, he just sat in the chair watching over her.

  Tomorrow was going to take another toll on her, but soon it would be over, and they could go home to Marisol. He missed his little girl so much. Talking on the phone and doing video chats didn’t cut it. He needed to wrap her in his arms and hug her until she squirmed.

  Every time Damián thought about what Gentry had done to Savannah, starting when she was about Marisol’s age, the blood boiled inside him. Why didn’t he castrate that monster when he’d had the chance?

  Savannah moaned in her sleep, and he quickly shucked off his clothes to join her. He whispered soothing words to her, a mixture of Spanish and English, while stroking her hair away from her forehead. She relaxed, remaining asleep.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, glad one more hellacious day was over.

  “No,” Savannah moaned. “Don’t touch me. You promised.”

  Damián awoke again in an instant, searching the barely lit room for who had invaded their suite, but soon realized she was dreaming. The alarm clock showed it was only nine-twenty-three.

  “Shh, bebé. You’re okay.” His fingers pressed the worry lines from her forehead. “I’m here. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” Never again.

  Savannah didn’t open her eyes but relaxed into sleep again. She had to be totally exhausted. Who could blame her? Even the strongest warrior needed to rest now and then.

  When her face contorted again as if
in the throes of a nightmare, Damián shook her awake. He couldn’t stand to see her hurting, even if the pain was all in the past.

  She blinked a few times and zeroed in on him. “Damián? Did I wake you?”

  “I was watching you sleep. You seemed upset.” To put it mildly.

  Savannah wrinkled her brow, glancing away. Then a look of horror crossed her face. She met his gaze once more. “The party. That night. He lied to me.”

  He didn’t have to ask who she was talking about and assumed she was talking about her eighteenth birthday. It must still be fresh in her mind from Gentry’s testimony in court this afternoon.

  “What did you remember?”

  Again, she scrunched up her pretty face. “That’s just it. I got little snatches of memory, but nothing solid enough to know what happened. But I’m absolutely certain that he promised me something and broke it.”

  “You said that while you slept, too. Then you swatted the air and yelled at someone not to touch you.”

  She seemed to try and pull up the memory but shook her head. “I can’t remember. It’s so frustrating. That night is such a blank. Of course, I’m sure it didn’t happen the fairy-tale way Gentry described it. I need to set the record straight in court tomorrow, but I can’t if I don’t remember the details.”

  He stroked his hand up and down her arm, trying to provide comfort. It frustrated him all to hell that he couldn’t help her by providing her the answers she needed.

  “Oh!” She reached for her belly, rubbing it in circular motions.

  Damián’s heart jumped into his throat as he sat up in bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just more Braxton-Hicks contractions. Practice for the big day.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely. I’ve been having them off and on since Thanksgiving.”