by Taras Ford
“I do, damn it! Why did you come here? Did he send you?”
Carol shook her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have protected you. I’ll never forgive—”
“Get out!” Trish shouted between sobs. “Get out!”
The elevator stopped. Todd released the latch and drew up the gate. Then he heard it. A woman screamed from his loft. He raced down the hall and fumbled with his keys to get inside. “Trish! Trish!” She was in the kitchen area, gripping the edge of the counter. He rushed to Trish, pushing the older woman aside.
“What is it?”
“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” she shouted with her eyes closed, swinging her fists.
Todd held her tightly, whispering in her ear. “It’s me, Trish. It’s Todd. I’ve got you.” He looked from Trish to Carol. The lady had to be a relative. Her golden-blond hair and green eyes were exactly like Trish’s.
“Get out of my place!” he shouted.
“That’s my daughter,” Carol said coolly. “I’m not leaving her.” Trish moaned in Todd’s arms. “Don’t let her take me, please.” Todd lifted her to carry her to their room. She put her arms around his neck and buried her tear-soaked face in his blue silk shirt.
He put her down gently, and she clung to him, desperate for him to stay with her. “Let me get rid of her, and I’ll be right back,” he said.
“No, don’t go. He’s coming, Todd! She’ll bring him! I planned it. Don’t you see? I was going to stand up to them. I knew they’d come and I’d prove to you I was ok. But I’m not. I can’t do it. I can’t. You have to stay and protect me! I thought I could do it, but I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” Todd kissed her eyes and rubbed the side of her face calmly. “He won’t get to you here. We’ll get you some help. I promise.”
“No, please. Don’t leave me.”
“It’s ok. It will be ok,” he whispered. “I’ll get her out of here.” Reluctantly, she let go of him and curled into a ball, sobbing violently. “Hurry! Please!”
“I will,” he promised. He left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
He found Carol Hesser standing in front of Trish’s easel, examining her latest painting. “My Patricia was always so talented,” he heard her mutter.
“Ok, I want you to get the hell out of my loft,” Todd snapped.
Carol turned around with a surprised expression. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me, lady. Get your ass out of here, now, or I’ll take extreme pleasure in tossing you out!”
“I’m not going anywhere without my child.”
“Now she’s your child?” he shouted at her. “What about when your sicko husband was raping her? What was she to you then?”
Carol gasped.
“That’s right. Trish told me all about you and your husband. She’s not a child. If you haven’t noticed she’s all grown up and she doesn’t want to see you. So go.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. My daughter is disturbed. She needs help. My husband never touched her.”
“That’s it!” Todd grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door. Carol fought him off, but she was powerless in his hold. Opening the door, he pushed her into the hall and threw her purse after her. “If you or your husband ever come here again, I’ll call the police!” he shouted and slammed the door.
Chapter 20
Friends and Enemies
Westmore Retreat was the vacation spot for the wealthy and famous. Michael Adams had run the organization with his wife Amy for more than five years. It was a testament to their father, and he was extremely proud of the success it had become. So said the brochure Sydney read while they waited in the lobby.
“Well, look who’s here!” Michael said, smiling broadly. He looked just like Nolen except that his hair was blondish brown and longer. He had the same deep, smoky voice, but his chocolate brown eyes looked warm and friendly rather than intimidating, as Nolen’s often did.
Nolen greeted his brother warmly.
Michael hugged him. He glanced over his shoulder after Sydney. “And who is this pretty lady?” he asked with a smile in his voice.
“This is the woman I plan to marry someday,” Nolen announced. He stepped from his brother and reached for Sydney’s hand. “Michael, please meet Sydney Allen, my butterfly.” The man gave Sydney a polite nod. She guessed her lover’s proclamation of future nuptials between them added the shock value Nolen aimed for. In a matter of minutes she could feel the scrutiny of not just Michael but the hotel staff lingering behind the reception desk. She pinched Nolen discreetly. She didn’t appreciate the joke.
The tension of the moment passed. Sydney wondered, which of the men looked most like the con-man father who haunted her Nolen? She felt a little uncomfortable under the piercing stare that mirrored Nolen’s.
She couldn’t tell whether he approved of her or not.
“Well, um, Sydney, it’s good to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
The politeness and charm only made Michael more handsome. Sydney smiled and shook his hand. “It’s good to meet you too, Michael. Nolen has told me much about you.”
“Only believe half of it,” he joked.
“Where’s your pretty wife?” Nolen asked. He scanned the lobby.
Michael beamed. “She’s feeding Paige.”
“I can’t wait to meet my niece,” Nolen said. His long powerful arm slipped around her waist and drew her closer to him.
Evident surprise twinkled in Michael’s eye. “I can’t wait for that either,” he said, his poise recovered. “The christening is at eleven in the morning at Westmore Presbyterian.” Nolen nodded. “We’ll be there.”
“Well let me take you to your rooms.” Michael signaled for the bellhop to collect their luggage.
The luxurious log cabin resort had a Native American motif, exhibited by the patterned rugs and cloth furniture, accented with red, yellow, orange, and hunter green. The awning was adorned with heads of moose, bear, and elk that some hunter had made into trophies. A massive fireplace stood in the center of the lobby with large, comfy leather chairs and matching ottomans. To the far right, a few people gathered by a wood-paneled bar, stocked with top-shelf liquor.
Along the way to their suite, Michael kept glancing over at them in amusement, and Sydney guessed that Nolen’s playboy past made her the question of the moment. Who was she? Where did they meet? How long would she last? The elevator doors opened onto a private floor with two large suites. Michael said the suite on the left would be theirs and the opposite wing belonged to him and Amy.
Nolen slapped hands with him. “Sydney and I will order something in, I want to be alone with her. It’s been a tiring day. You understand.”
“I do.”
She waved at Michael, who stood in the hallway with his hands in his pockets, watching them go. He winked at her, with a dark concern shadowing his face. Nolen either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Portia waited at the airport for the next flight to New York, she’d tried to call Sydney’s new cell phone, but got voicemail. She had a lot of time to think about how Trish would be seen with Todd Ellison. It had to be Sydney’s doing. Nolen Adams got the charges dropped against her. So they just decided to go off merrily with the creep who attacked her? Now they were all over town, drinking champagne and having a laugh at Portia’s expense.
She’d show them. As soon as she got to New York, she’d confront Trish and find out whether she knew who the man she fucking really was.
A sharp pain pierced the side of his neck with a cramp. Immediately he forced his head up and shook off the lethargy. Panicked he checked the bed. His duty of watching her sleep had given him a sense of comfort too.
Never had he been so frightened for another person. They would talk this one out and Trish would get therapy.
He’d insist on it. The digital clock on his nightstand said the hour had moved past seven, and he hadn’t stirred since he’d thrown out Mrs. Hesser.
Trish rolled over.
She moaned, mumbled something. A fitful sleep turned out to be better than none.
She hadn’t cried out more than a couple of times.
“I’ll call my therapist in the morning.” He stated again to himself. Firm in his belief, he planned to drag her there kicking and screaming if she didn’t agree.
Trish rolled over again. Her lids flashed open and she sat upright her chest heaving through deep breaths. “Todd?”
“I’m here,” he said, he went to her.
“Where were you?” she asked weakly. She turned toward him once he sidled up beside her on the bed.
He pulled her to him. “I was right here in the chair. You feeling better?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“Your mom’s visit.”
“She’s gone now, and you’re here. We don’t have to talk about it.” Todd rubbed her back. “We’re going to see my friend tomorrow.”
“Really? Who is he?”
“A therapist.”
Trish pulled away from him. “Not that again.”
“Today was a close call. Your mom will be back. You have to be able to face her.” She bit down on her bottom lip, flinging long strands of hair from her face. “You think I’m crazy, admit it.”
“No, of course not, but you need someone to talk to.”
“I have you.”
“It’s not enough, Trish.”
“It is. If they come back, you can tell them to go away.”
“I can’t be here twenty-four-seven. Don’t you want to fight your own battles, face them once and for all, and show them that you won’t let them destroy you?”
Trish looked away, pulling up her legs. “You don’t want me anymore.”
“Stop it,” he said. He forced her to look at him. “Don’t say it again.”
“I knew they’d find me. I knew it when Muffy spotted me. Hell I may have known when I agreed to go to Nantucket. They have a house there.”
“They do?” Todd was stunned and stammered through his reply. “Wh-wh-why didn’t you tell me?” She shrugged.
“Trish, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“You Todd.” She bit back her sob. “You make me want to be strong, whole. I wanted to face them and prove to you I’m okay. Prove it to myself,” she said sadly. “But when I saw her, when I smelled the liquor on her, I knew the truth. There’s no way to really escape the hell of my parents.” She paused. “I need you. I’m so tired of being scared. She’s going to tell Daddy, and he’s going to do everything in his power to make me leave here. You don’t know him.”
Todd stroked her hair. “And he doesn’t know me,” he said.
“The first time I ran away and told the police about what he did, they had me committed. Do you hear me? They had me locked up and said I was crazy. They can do anything!”
“They won’t this time Trish. Not this time. I swear it.”
“This place is stunning,” Sydney mumbled.
“Yeah, it is.” Nolen opened the long drapes that framed the wall to reveal a landscape from her dreams.
Snowcapped mountains were in the distance beyond forest and green valleys. Sydney walked past the two dark leather sofas on the red and brown Indian print rug to stare out at them.
“The resort is built into the side of Westmore Mountain,” Nolen said, coming up behind her. “You like the view?”
“It’s breathtaking!” Sydney answered. “Why don’t you come here more often?” The man loved to hold her. He rested his chin on her shoulder, he stared out at the scenery. “I never had anyone to share this place with. My brother picked it, we used to come up to Westmore when we were kids and look out at those mountains.”
“Wait? You’re from here? I thought you were from Vegas.”
“We moved here after his death. Yes. I’m from here.”
She touched his face. “So much I don’t know about you. How is it possible I can feel so close to you still?”
“We belong together.”
“We do. And you can enjoy this now, with me. This is the perfect place for families, a place where you can raise your babies in peace,” Sydney said.
“Kids, huh?” he asked, running his hands seductively across her belly.
“Yes, a little piece of me and a little piece of you,” she said, tilting her head back against him. “Our babies.”
“What about your career?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Are you saying I can’t do both?”
“No. I just wasn’t sure you wanted to do both. Wait, what are we talking about here?” Sydney turned in his arms and faced him with a serious determined look. “Our future. We have one don’t we? Some day you and I will take the next step. I’ll be the star on Broadway and you’ll be the man running Wall Street and—”
“What if I told you that I don’t know about kids, that I never did? That I never will.” She grinned wickedly. “That’s odd, since you just announced our upcoming nuptials.” He blushed. “About that—”
“It’s ok. I know you were kidding.”
“You mean the world to me, Sydney.”
To keep from smacking him she had to step away. Sydney heaved in a deep breath and considered her words carefully. “I know I do. Thing is, I told you before we started that if we were going to do this it would be for the distance. Not just a casual thing. Right?”
“This is far from casual, beautiful.”
A little tinge of relief soothed the tightness in her chest. She tried to smile. “I want the whole package.
Sometime soon you’ll have to decide if you want the same thing.” Portia sat down angrily. She dropped her carry-on to the side. The next flight to New York wasn’t leaving until four forty-five AM. She had already checked out of the hotel, so all she could do was wait in the terminal.
She remembered that Trish had wanted to tell her about her photographer boyfriend. Obviously Trish hadn’t realized that he was the same man whose apartment Portia had demolished. She also recalled how quick Nolen Adams had been to bail her out. He’d been covering for his friend, and Sydney had helped him.
Portia couldn’t believe that Sydney would repay her like this after all she’d done, and all the sacrifices she’d made. No wonder Sydney hadn’t cared when she’d told her about Ricky. Well, she’d care when Portia told Trish about her sneaky ass. And she’d show Trish how that asshole Todd Ellison was just using her.
Pulling out the magazine again, she turned to the page where her friends had been photographed dining with millionaires and wearing the most expensive, beautiful dresses she’d ever seen. Her jealousy simmered as she looked at their smiling faces.
“Nolen, go to sleep, please,” Sydney said, pushing his hand away from her breast.
Soft kisses to her shoulder only served to frustrate her more. Part of her wanted him, but she could barely keep her eyes open.
“I can’t sleep.”
How did his insomnia become her problem? Now he expected her to spoil him, after his non-committal comment earlier. “You’ve got some nerve.”
“Sydney, don’t make me beg.”
She shook her head sleepily, keeping her eyes closed as she rested on the large pillow. “I’m tired.”
“Then you can just lie here and do nothing. Just give me a little. I won’t be too much of a bother,” he whispered, rubbing his stiffness across her rump and sliding his hand down from her breasts, over her stomach and between her legs, parting her thighs.
“Nolen—” she moaned. He entered her from behind with her lying on her side. The lips of her labia parted from the pleasure of his passionate thrusts and the butterfly kisses to her back. Having already made love to him earlier in front of the fireplace, she had hoped that he would be asleep by now.
“See, right there. Mmm, babe, you feel so good,” he whispered. She pushed back against him. He held her to him. His soft panting turned into louder grunts as she
felt him nearing his climax. He rolled her over onto her stomach, pinning her to the bed with his hard thighs pressed against hers. She cried out in ecstasy as he pounded inch by inch into her from behind. His hands slipped under her pelvis opening her pussy and she put a deeper dip to her back raising her ass for each pending blow. Sydney bit into her pillow to muffle the cries.
Finally after shaking through their passion, she felt him weaken, then collapse with exhaustion onto her back. She lifted her head from the pillow and found her voice. “Now can we please go to sleep?” He pulled out of her and chuckled. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said, falling over by her side.
“No, you’re not, but it’s cool.” She kissed his lips and added in a tired voice, “I guess I need to get on the Pill.”
Nolen’s eyes popped open. “What?”
Sydney opened one eye and smirked. “You didn’t use protection, did you?” He frowned in confusion. “I just thought—“
“Good night.”
Sydney turned over and let him stew on it. He didn’t want kids, but he wanted sex without protection?
Though she was on the Pill and very careful to remain baby free, she held back on saying so. She’d tell him in the morning.
Portia sat in a window seat, alternately she observed the other passengers as they boarded and looked out her tiny window to see the baggage handlers driving carts on the runway. She was taking a big risk by leaving her dreams behind, and the reality of that risk had begun to sink in.
She thought about how close they all used to be and how much she genuinely loved Sydney and Trish.
Why had it all changed for her, and when had she and Sydney become strangers?
The sad truth hit her in the heart repeatedly. She hated the way Sydney seemed to prosper without any effort. She had come to town a country-bumpkin virgin, and, within a week, the guy that Portia had been crushing on for months asked her out after one meeting. Sydney got callbacks and gigs, but turned them down if someone so much as propositioned her. Then, at an audition that Portia had arranged for her as a birthday present, she’d caught the eye of the wealthiest man in New York. It was just unreal. Now Sydney and Trish were living it up as if Portia didn’t matter.
