Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Turning the cold water up a little higher, he finished soaping his body, rinsed, then stepped out and grabbed a towel. As he dried his hair he couldn’t help but think that despite the physical release he had just experienced, he still felt unfulfilled. It’s not just the sex, although I’ve certainly always enjoyed that. I just miss HER… he thought.

  Hearing his cell phone ring, he ran into the bedroom, still soaking wet, and snatched it up without bothering to check the caller ID. “Yeah?" he answered.

  “Hey, dad!” his son’s eager voice chirped.

  Hearing that sweet voice was like a salve to his shredded and tired soul. Smiling, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Hey there, how‘s my main man?”

  “I’m Ok. Dad, grandma said you found mom, is that true?” the boy asked.

  Gritting his teeth, he cursed his mother silently. “Yes, I found your mom.” he answered after a long pause. “Hang on just a second, son.”

  Putting the phone down, he quickly donned his bathrobe, picked the phone back up, then walked to the balcony doors and opened them wide. Inhaling the cool mountain air, hoping to calm his nerves, he spoke. “Sorry son, had to throw my robe on.” “Listen, what else did grandma tell you?” he asked, dreading the answer.

  In a small, forlorn voice, Regan replied, “Well, she said mom never loved us, and she doesn’t want to come home. But Pop Edoardo said he knows mom loves me, and wouldn’t just leave me.”

  With considerable effort he managed to control his temper, and suddenly found himself struggling to find the right words. Answering slowly and deliberately, he said, “Son, your grandmother is wrong. Listen, your mom was, well, hurt. She suffered a bad head injury, and when her head healed, she couldn’t remember how to find her way back to us, that‘s all.”

  “So mom didn’t stop loving us, she just didn’t know I was waiting for her to come home?” the child asked hopefully. “Do you think she’ll like me, since she doesn’t know me? When can I see her?”

  Feeling trapped, he replied desperately, “Yes, of course she’ll like you! Her love for you runs so deep, after she heals and comes home, she’ll never, ever let you out of her sight again!”

  “But when can I see her?” the voice begged.

  Feeling the noose tighten, he answered in a choked voice, “Soon, son, very soon, I promise. But first, I need to see to it she gets the help she needs, Ok?" Please, God, please let me give my son his mother back… he prayed silently.

  “Really?” Regan squealed with delight. “Ok, if you say she loves me, then I believe it!”

  “Yes, believe it.” he chuckled with momentary relief as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Now, how’s about you tell me about what you’ve been up to?”

  “Ok, dad." he replied, and for the next half hour, filled him in on schoolwork and activities, the baseball team, and things around the estate.

  By the time the conversation had ended, Granger was more determined than ever bring his family back together. Briefly, he thought about calling his mother and finally putting his foot down, but an inner voice whispered, No no…just wait until after you speak with the lawyer.

  But at least the day hadn’t been a complete bust. Earlier, he, Cynne’ and Jocelyn had managed to talk Cassandra into seeing a specialist, one he was having flown in from Europe. The man was supposedly the foremost authority on head trauma and memory recovery. Amazingly, Cassandra had also agreed to spend a little time alone with him the following morning. Smiling to himself, he wondered what she would think of his little pre-dawn surprise. With renewed energy he grabbed his phone again and dialed Malcolm’s number.

  “Lo?” a sleepy voice answered.

  “Malcolm, it’s me, sorry I woke you. Listen, I just wanted to know if you were able to rent what I needed in the morning.” he asked as he walked to the small bar, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a Samuel Adams Boston Lager.

  “Got everything Chief. I still think you’re crazy, but I got it. The hotel assured me everything would be ready for you, including the directions to the park. Oh, and sunrise here is 6:48 am.” he mumbled, then yawned.

  Chuckling excitedly, he committed the information to memory, even though he had already left a 5 a.m. wake up call. “Yeah yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but the old Cassandra would love this, and I’m hoping she still will. Anyway, don’t forget you have to pick the lawyer up at nine in the morning.”

  “You bet. Night, Chief."

  “Rest well, old friend." he answered as he broke the connection, opened his beer, and headed for the balcony again, intending to enjoy the crisp night air and the view of the lake. A sudden knocking at the front door stopped him in his tracks.

  “Who could that be?" he muttered as he turned around, went to the door, threw the lock, then snatched it open. Eyes widening in outrage, he sputtered, “What the hell are YOU doing here?”

  Chapter 21

  Taking an involuntary step backwards at the look on Granger’s face, Martina’s already-pale skin went almost transparent as the confident smile slid from her red lips, and her green eyes went wide with shock and uncertainty. She was honestly surprised at such a negative reaction to her surprise visit.

  “I asked you a question!” he demanded.

  Swallowing with some difficulty, she answered in a small, feeble voice, “I came to offer you support, and comfort. I thought you may need it.” Reaching out to touch his face with a hand that shook ever so slightly, she gasped as he seized her wrist in a painful grip.

  “How did you know I was here Martina?” he demanded in a belligerent voice as he slung her arm away from him roughly. “Let me guess, mother dear sent you to give me that comfort and support?” he sneered.

  Ok, looks like it’s best I let him believe Grace sent me… she thought. “She only told me because she knows we’re meant to be together.” she replied, and actually flushed.

  “Is that so?” he laughed harshly.

  Reaching her hand out one more time, then snatching it back at the last second, her voice became desperate. “Granger, I love you, I’ve always loved you, please don’t shut me out! I have always been there for you, whether you realized it or not! And I want to be the only one for you. Cassandra can never….” she trailed off as his eyes narrowed and he took one step forward menacingly.

  “Just shut the fuck up, and don’t you dare go there!" he seethed, nearly at the end of his rope.

  His menacing voice frightened two blue-haired old ladies in the hallway, who happened to be passing by at that moment. Looking at him timidly, they averted his gaze and scurried away, looking nervously over their shoulders at him.

  Looking back down at the object of his wrath, he continued, with a heavy dose of bitterness and sarcasm. “What the hell do you know about love?” Before she could answer he rubbed his chin for a moment, as if in deep thought, then snapped his fingers. “Right! You love my money! You love my social standing! Martina, Cassandra loves me for ME, not for what I can do for her. That’s the difference between you and her. “

  “Granger, I know you don’t mean that, I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, and…”

  “Just shut up.” he cut her off in a suddenly tired, miserable voice, then ran one hand through his damp hair. “Just leave. I don’t know what you were thinking, or what the hell you expected.” he said as he looked her up and down. Skimpy red dress, expensive, upswept hairdo, expensive perfume, everything about her screamed seduction. And indeed, she had always been, and still was, a beautiful woman, but all he wanted was to go to sleep and see his wife in a few hours. “I don’t want your support, or the comfort of your body. I don’t want YOU, Martina. Just go.”

  Her brow creasing with worry, she couldn’t understand why he was being so cruel. There could only be one explanation. Cassandra did this! The bitch has turned his life upside down with her crazy antics, whining, and leading him on! My darling wouldn’t be acting this way otherwise! She thought. Smiling, she took a tentative step forward anyway, d
etermined to ease her way inside the suite and shut the outside world from them. She was confident that from that point she could seduce him. “Granger, darling, we were so good together when Cassandra first left. Don’t you remember how good we were? Don’t you miss how we made passionate love? How I did anything you wanted, whatever you wanted, however much you wanted? I’ll still do it for you. ”

  Taking another step forward, this time a decisive one, she stopped in her tracks as he stepped in front of her, blocking the entrance. Shaking his head, his handsome face contorted unpleasantly. “Passionate love?” he snarled, then laughed mockingly. “We never made love. Here’s reality check for you, sweetheart. We FUCKED! If you want to know the truth, I got bored with your clinging and begging, quick, fast, and in a hurry!”

  Watching her flinch as if he had delivered a vicious slap to her face, he suddenly felt guilty about the shoddy way he was treating her, so cold, callous, and cruel, but he was determined to make damned sure she didn’t create any more problems between him and his estranged wife. He also wanted to make it crystal clear to her that they would never have a snowball’s chance in hell of being together. As tears began rolling down her pale cheeks, his guilt deepened. Don’t get soft now, she’s part of the problem, not the solution… he reminded himself sternly.

  “Granger, you just don’t know, I really do lov…”

  Steeling himself, he interrupted her plea in a ruthless voice. “Martina, I’ll say this one last time, and you really need to listen. I’ll never be with you again. Ever. When Cassandra first disappeared, I slept with you because….because I was hurt. I was feeling rejected, and I needed to be comforted. But to be honest with you, anyone woman would have done the trick, at the time. You just happened to be there. I’m sorry if that hurts you, Martina, but I think you deserve the truth. And the truth is, I love my wife. I always have, and always will, and nothing will ever change that. NO ONE will ever change that.”

  Reaching out in desperation, she sobbed forlornly as he put a hand on her shoulder and gave her gentle shove back out into the hallway.

  “Just go home, find someone who really wants you, who really loves you.” he said in a soft voice as he closed the door. Sighing, he closed his eyes as she began banging on the door and begging. But the only answer to her pleas was the sound of the deadbolt lock being thrown by him.

  Turning, he began walking away as her assault on the door became more frantic. “I know you love me, Granger! I KNOW YOU LOVE ME!!!” he heard her scream, sounding completely hysterical. “We’re soul mates, you’ll see! EVERYONE WILL SEE!!!”

  Chapter 22

  Hands still stinging from the digging, Brett wrapped his hands around his cool drink to soothe them, and idly wondered if it would be a good investment to buy some motorized digging equipment. It would certainly be less abuse on my valuable hands… he thought. Shaking his head absently, his thoughts drifted back to Cassandra, and the phone conversation they had had earlier. She’s actually spending time with that buffoon, and damn it, I was positive I was back in control! I have to think of a way to make her afraid of him again! Taking a sip of his drink he grimaced, remembering the suffocating, pure homicidal rage he had felt when she informed him she had agreed to see a specialist that Granger was bringing in from Europe. She’s mine, I won’t allow him to take her from me! Fucking rich, spoiled-ass pansy, always getting what he wants. Well this time things will be different! He vowed silently. There has to be a way to get her to see me, I’m the only one she needs. I need to figure out a way to stop her from seeing that specialist, because if I don’t, all my work will fall apart… he brooded.

  Staring into the fireplace, his dark thoughts were interrupted as he heard his front door slam shut with such force the sound was like that of a sonic boom. Guess her date didn’t go very well… he thought with considerable amusement. Turning, he watched as Martina stormed into the room. Hurling her purse onto the floor with terrific force, she grabbed two fistfuls of her own hair, gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, then screamed like a bobcat being flayed alive.

  Getting up from his seat at the fireplace, he went to the bar and sat down. When her screeching had finally subsided, he gave her a bored look and shook his head sadly. “I assume from that childish performance, you were unsuccessful in seducing that uncouth lout, that hayseed dressed in an Italian suit.” he drawled with distinct mockery.

  Irked by his aloof manner, she glared at him, then stomped over to the bar and snatched the drink from his hand. Hoping to quell the burning sting of humiliation she was still feeling, she downed the drink in four giant gulps.

  Never having seen her swill liquor with such reckless abandon, his eyes widened in shock momentarily.

  “Why didn’t you just let that black bitch die?” she spat as she closed her eyes and grimaced, then opened them again and impaled him with her burning gaze.

  “Hey, you said it yourself, why shouldn’t we both have what we want?"

  “Well, I don’t care WHAT you want, I’m going to get rid of that troublesome bitch once and for all! No half-assing anymore! I’m going to cut her fucking heart out, and there’s not a damn thing you’re going to do about it, this time!” she raged, her hatred for the woman making her abandon her usual wary respect for her cousin. “I need another drink.” she mumbled, and made her way around to his side of the bar.

  Face flushing in anger, his only reply was to leap from the barstool so quickly she stopped dead in her tracks and began to backpedal, eyes widening with fear. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he snatched her head back savagely, causing her to scream in pain and fear, and her suddenly nerveless fingers dropped the glass she was holding. Before the sound of shattering glass had even dissipated, he had already retrieved a sharp knife from behind the bar with his free hand, a knife always kept there to slice lemons and limes.

  She whimpered in fear and nearly lost control of her bladder when he pressed the tip of the sharp instrument against her neck so hard that she felt a warm trickle of blood begin to flow.

  “Don’t you dare touch ONE HAIR on her head, or there won’t be enough of you left to feed the rest of the tea roses. Am I getting through to you?" he whispered directly in her ear, making her shiver and close her eyes. “Now you listen to me, and you listen good. If you fuck with her, which means you’re fucking with ME…..before I carve YOU up, I’ll bring lover boy over here, tie both of you up, and I’ll make you watch while I cut his throat from ear-to-ear, and pull his tongue out the neck hole. Are we together on this?”

  Knowing him well enough to know he meant every word, she nodded her head vigorously.

  Satisfied, he tossed the knife on the bar, then slung her to the floor at his feet. Grabbing a slice of lemon from a bowl on top of the bar, he leaned over her, placed the lemon directly onto her neck wound, and squeezed the juice out.

  “Please, Brett, don‘t hurt me anymore!" she sobbed as she tried to curl into a fetal position.

  Tossing the slice of lemon away, he grabbed her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet.

  “Upsie daisy!" he said cheerfully, then grabbed a clean napkin from the bar and began wiping the superficial wound on her neck clean. “There there now.” he cooed gently. “There’s no reason to be afraid of me, as long as you never cross me, K?”

  Sniffling, she gave him a small, grateful smile, then wiped her eyes dry.

  “That’s a good girl." he murmured as he gave her a lingering, chaste kiss on the cheek. “You really should put some antibiotic cream on that little cut, I would hate to think your beautiful skin could be scarred. Now, I‘ll drive you to the hotel so you can be close to your love.”

  Sniffling one last time, she watched as he went to retrieve the purse she had flung to the floor earlier. Almost absently, she pushed her now-messy hair from her forehead, touched the wound on her neck, and studied the blood that was smeared on her fingertips. She now had yet another reason to hate Cassandra. That whore has turned the only two men I dearly love against me…
.she thought grimly, and resolved then and there to free the two men from the woman’s evil clutches. Suddenly remembering her cousin’s rage moments earlier, she amended, But I’ll have to make it look like an accident, a random, senseless crime perpetrated by a stranger. Maybe I can find someone, someone trustworthy, who can make it look like a rape and murder. Then I can be there to comfort my two favorite guys. And I know the perfect person to do the job.

  Chapter 23

  A loud knocking on the door roused Cassandra from her slumber, and she groaned as she turned over on the couch. Pulling the heavy blanket down from her face, she wondered if the noise she had heard was real, or if she had only been dreaming. When several seconds of silence had passed, she sighed contentedly and snuggled back underneath the blanket and closed her eyes.