Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
AUTHOR BIO
BETRAYALS OF THE HEART
By
Melissa Ohnoutka
Betrayals of the Heart
Copyright 2012 by Melissa Ohnoutka
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for use in any review, the reproduction of utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Melissa Ohnoutka.
Published by Amazon KDP
Seattle, WA
Electronic KDP Edition: October, 2012
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
www.melissaohnoutka.com
Prologue
Another ordinary Monday.
A day just like any other.
One Makayla Carter expected to follow the same predictable path it had over the span of her ten year marriage to the same man, with the same kids, living in the same house, in same little conventional town in south Florida.
Until the phone rang.
After eyeing the caller ID, Makayla spun around and headed back to the laundry room with no intentions of answering the nuisance call. These unknown numbers usually resulted in a fast talking solicitor. She avoided them with as much vigor as she had her skinny, freckled-face admirer from the seventh grade.
And then she heard it.
“Hi! My name’s Nicholas. Whatcha want?”
She cringed, her entire body stiff. The moment her five-year-old son picked up the receiver in the master bedroom all hopes of avoidance vanished.
“No, Nick. No,” she whispered. Great. No dodging the confrontation now.
“The phone was ringing, Momma.” Her youngest son bounced on the bed, the phone literally glued to his ear due to the peanut butter and jelly on his sticky fingers. Dang it. He’d found her hiding place and helped himself to the sugary treat again. This was going to be an interesting afternoon. If only her oldest son didn’t like grape jelly and have to take it in his lunch at least three times a week, she might avoid these little episodes altogether.
“Nicholas Allen.” The hushed tones transformed, her words snapping with disapproval. She took a deep breath and peeled his sticky fingers from the receiver. “Mommy’s told you about this a million times, young man.”
Frustration oozed from every pore. She shook her index finger at him, taking in his mud-streaked Sponge Bog Square Pants T-shirt. He’d changed back into his dirty clothes from the day before, more than likely planning to head outback to dig more holes in her flowerbeds so he could find more worms. Ugh. Little boys. She would never understand their thought process.
There was so much she wanted to say, but the scolding would have to wait. Biting her bottom lip, she contemplated hanging up on the caller. It wasn’t like the person on the other end wasn’t used to the rude behavior. Crap. It was hopeless. Once contact was made, something inside her just wouldn’t let her do it.
“I’ll deal with you in a minute, little mister.” Makayla lifted the receiver to her ear, cringing at the gooey residue gushing between her fingers. Her sweet Nicholas was a handful to put it nicely. He loved disruption. Thrived on it. The more out of whack he kept her, the happier and smoother his life appeared to run. He knew all it took to get what he wanted was a bit of chaos. Then he’d sit back and watch as her composure crumbled beneath the pressure.
She shook her head. Overcompensating for past mistakes was destructive in so many ways.
Bracing herself, she said, “Hello?”
Nothing. The silence greeting her on the other end of the line took precedence over her son’s behavior as well as his sticky hands.
“Who is it, Mommy?” She felt the jelly seeping through the thin layer of her jogging pants as he tugged, but it barely registered. “Mommy, who is it?”
“Hello?” Holding up her free hand to stop her son’s questions, she scrunched her brow and strained to listen for a response over Nick’s relentless gibber and an annoying buzz she couldn’t quit place. That’s when the first uneasy feeling swept over her. She waited breathless, her tensed fingers throbbing with each heartbeat.
“H-hello?” she said again.
“Mommy! I said, I’m still hungry!” Waving Nick off, she backed into the bathroom and shut the door. “I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. What do you want?”
This time a deep and much too familiar masculine laugh filtered through the silence. Her heart jolted. No, it couldn’t be. A rush of chills competed for the finish line as they sped down her neck, her back, and raced for her toes.
“Well, my dear, what I want is you.”
The gigantic wound in her soul reopened.
In an instant, her past flashed before her in all its vivid glory. She didn’t hesitate. Fingers numb, hands trembling, she poked at the buttons on the phone, trying to disconnect the call before he spoke again.
But she failed.
“Myka dear, you remember me.” The words came through crystal clear, even though she held the phone out in front of her. His tone confident, full of all the horrifying hatred she remembered oh so well, accomplished his task. He didn’t even bother to wait for an answer. The tone of the disconnection echoed in her ears and thundered in her brain.
Yes, she remembered him. The devil himself had found her. The nightmare she’d run from so many years ago had finally caught up with her, and she’d let it happen. He’d found them after all these years because she’d become lazy. Years that just seconds before she’d thought so insignificant.
Fumbling with the bathroom door, she flung it open, scanning the room for Nicholas. Her bedroom, now empty, haunted her aching soul. She swallowed hard and tried to push away the frightening thoughts swarming her all at once.
Calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions. The odds were still in her favor. “Nicholas?”
She’d planned for this encounter a thousand times. Even if he was in town, he couldn’t have gotten inside the house without her knowledge. He couldn’t have gotten to her son this fast. She was just being silly, letting her imagination run down paths she had no desire to visit again.
“Nicholas, honey? Where are you?” Nicholas was only playing one of his hide and seek games. That’s all.
“Nicholas? Mommy doesn’t want to play right now.” Nothing but silence answered her desperate pleas and her heart felt as if it had lodged itself somewhere between a lung and a rib as she retrieved the gun from the drawer of the dresser by the bed. This cou
ldn’t be happening. Not now. Please let this all be a misunderstanding.
Misunderstanding? Not hardly. She knew exactly what Steven would use to punish her this time. A picture of her oldest son flashed through her head. Michael had been about the same age as Nicholas when she’d run.
She moved through the bedroom, flicking off the gun’s safety before bending to peer under the bed. Nothing.
The seconds ticked off with the sound of the Grandfather clock in the dining room as she searched. The gun felt heavy in her hand and she gripped it tighter, being extra alert in case Nicholas popped out unexpectedly. The little stinker did this often, but two things worried her this time. How quiet he was being, especially after eating all that sugar. And the phone call.
She swallowed hard and felt the tight knot go all the way down. What if someone had figured out how to get inside undetected?
Reality hit with incredible force. She leaned against the wall for support. There was no way to explain how she knew Steven had found them. Her entire being just knew.
Looking upward she pleaded, Please protect my sons.
It felt strange to ask God for anything after she’d turned away from him so many years ago. But she also knew that God and God alone would be Nick’s only hope from here on out if he’d fallen into the hands of her oldest son’s real father. And if it took her falling to her knees to pray for his safety, to beg for her forgiveness in order to spare both her sons the life she’d been forced to endure, it was a done deal.
Chapter One
Carson City, Nevada Airport
10 years earlier
Makayla Prichard’s hands trembled as she stared down at the newspaper she’d picked up off the table in the small coffee shop of the Carson City Airport. She clutched it tightly, as if it might disappear before she got the chance to examine the photograph staring back at her.
The picture plastered on the front page belonged to her, along with the correct details of her physical attributes— dark brown hair, brown eyes, five-foot six. But the information printed below the photograph contained nothing but lies. Lies that everyone she knew might believe to be true.
How could they print this crap? Didn’t they have to verify their facts first? She was not a suspect. She was not, nor had she ever been, a criminal.
She gulped down a huge ball of denial.
The entire smuggling operation was a deadly charade that cost people their lives and made it appear she might be working with the guilty party. But her husband, Steven Prichard, was the madman. He planned the horrifying details, gave the orders. She had no choice but to obey. He promised her she would never be free. He intended to keep her at his side for eternity no matter the cost—even if it meant having her ashes on the mantel of his floor to ceiling stone fireplace.
Loud seconds ticked by from her Rolex watch. A token of his undying love. Yeah, right. More like a fancy dog collar with all the bells and whistles available. A show piece for the masses.
Just like her.
Was she doing the right thing? Could she possibly hope to get away? She kept reminding herself of the end result. Everything would be better. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Not even a little one. Her life depended on her ability to keep running from the lies and keep the truth hidden. Forever.
Mumbling a silent prayer for the plane to be on time, she again went over the details. Think straight, she ordered herself. Get a grip. You don’t even look like that pitiful woman in the photo anymore. She’d dyed her hair lighter, cut it short, thrown away her contact lenses and started wearing her old glasses in order to blend into the crowd. No one would give her a second glance.
There was no other option.
You’ve thought of everything.
But that was a lie. She didn’t come close to having the money she needed to get far enough away. And he was already looking for her. A picture of what he would do if he found her was permanently engraved in her brain. This truth vividly played tag with her emotions.
Shaking her head to rid the horrible thoughts, she tried to keep the paranoia from gaining ground. She had a good head start. That one thought made her smile. Outsmarting him was the best feeling in the world.
Steven watched her day and night like a high priced piece of merchandise. When he was tied up in one of his infamous business meetings, he made certain her bodyguards were never more than a few feet behind. She was a prisoner. One that had been tortured, manipulated, and mentally torn apart in the confines of her own home.
But not anymore. Not ever again. She’d had enough.
What Steven didn’t know was that she’d been planning her escape for two long years. Years where at times she’d wished she’d just die from one of his brutal beatings in order to find her freedom. Years of studying and praying over the Bible she’d kept hidden under one of the wooden planks in the back of her closet.
She’d prepared mentally as well as physically. It was amazing how using nothing but your body weight could build stamina and muscle strength. Now she was putting all those tedious hours of sweat, tears and planning to the test. The simple fact she’d gotten this far boosted her confidence and filled her with hope.
That along with the sound of her precious five-year-old son beside her, playing leap frog from one hard plastic seat to the next.
Michael jumped again before she could stop him and fell spread eagle on the hard polished floor face down. The thud of his tiny body shocked her back to reality.
“Oh, Michael, are you all right?” Helping him up and brushing him off, she checked for broken bones or injuries that might hinder their escape. Then she gave him a big hug to hush his cries as she scanned the terminal over his small shoulders.
A few ladies sitting in the next row of seats gave her a concerned look, but she smiled back at them and said, “Don’t worry. He’s fine.” She felt the guilt climb up her chest as paranoia took precedence over Michael’s condition. What kind of mother was she? But she couldn’t help it. They couldn’t afford to call attention to themselves.
Thankfully, Michael recovered from the shock of the fall quickly and pulled away, his mouth twisted in a pout. She bit her bottom lip. Don’t start fussing now. Not now. Please.
“That hurt right here, Mommy.” Michael rubbed his chest.
“I bet it did, little man. But you’re tough. You didn’t even cry once.” She touched his cheek. “You’re my rock.”
Michael smiled and Makayla glanced back at the three ladies still watching them.
With a nod, they appeared satisfied and returned their reading.
“Didn’t Mommy tell you to sit still?” Out of habit, Makayla readjusted his shirt and swiped the stray hairs off his brow. Steven wanted his son perfect at all times. “If you break something again we can’t leave on our vacation. We’ll have to spend our day in the emergency room instead of outside building sandcastles on the beach.” She attempted a reassuring smile to ease the frightened expression from his freckled cheeks, even though her insides were ready to explode. Michael knew the inside of the emergency room all too well. Even knew the nurses by name.
His shoulders started that jerky motion and he sniffed several times, wiping his nose with the back of his dimpled hand. “Come now, honey, don’t cry. You’re fine. Just listen to Mommy and you’ll stay that way. Okay?” She bent down and hugged him again, placing a quick kiss on the top of his head for extra measure.
“Okay,” he said, with one last sniffle. “I’ll try really hard this time, Mommy. Promise.” He glanced up at her after she released him, and her heart liquefied as it always did when she stared into his big brown eyes. He had the longest lashes she’d ever seen on any child. The sincerity of his expression proved his heart was pure, undamaged by his father’s wickedness.
Michael was the reason she had to succeed. She had to get him away before it was too late.
An eerie jingle rang out from the pocket of her jacket, echoing around the airport waiting area and sending ripples of fear through eve
ry inch of her body. It was Steven. She knew without even looking. It was always Steven.
Michael studied her, his lips twisted into a frown. “Mommy, what’s going on?”
Her heart stopped at the alarm in his voice. She’d failed to keep her fears from showing. An explanation would be needed to keep her son’s anxiety level down.
He’d just turned five last month, but his intelligence was way beyond that of a normal boy his age. It wasn’t fair. He’d been forced to grow up way too fast and that fact meant she wasn’t going to have the luxury of a simple answer.
“I’m fine, pumpkin. I’m just worried we’re going to miss our flight. The weather’s getting pretty bad out there.”
“Oh.” He glanced out the window considering her answer. His brow wrinkled as his lips puckered. “But why aren’t you answering the phone?”
Panic pushed closer.
“It’s a wrong number. They’ve been calling all day, and Mommy just wants them to leave us alone.” There, she’d pulled it off without a lie.
“I hate it when that happens.” His little lips pursed together into a fine line just as hers always did when she was perturbed about something, and a smile creased the tight muscles around her mouth.
“Me too, little one. Me too.”
She gathered up their meager belongings and headed for the ticket counter. Something was wrong. Their plane should have arrived over an hour ago and there seemed to be some kind of glitch with the airport’s billboard. The digital sign blinked off and on, showing every flight coming in as delayed.
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