A Cross to Bear

by Julieanne Lynch

  “Logan, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” he asked.

  “Erm, yeah. This is my roommate, Todd Spencer, a good friend and all round nutcase,” I said, which made Spence’s face fill with glee. “This is Drake Lancaster, another close friend and teammate. And last, but not least, this is my girlfriend, Bree Metzler.”

  “Hello, folks,” he said, reaching out to shake their hands. He seemed relaxed. It was odd seeing him like this with my friends. “Thanks so much for coming over tonight. Please, take a seat.”

  We all sat down. As much as I hated formal introductions, a tiny part of me was proud of my father. It was weird because I half expected to see him become a pompous politician. Instead, he was the interested parent, wanting to get to know his son’s friends.

  “I know it may seem strange having you come over here on such short notice, and I must thank you for that,” he said. “I’m only in town for the night and wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to meet you all. Given the events of the past twenty-four hours, I thought it important to meet those who have my son’s best interests at heart.”

  “Why haven’t you ever mentioned Logan before?” Spence asked, not beating around the bush.

  My father smiled and nodded. “That was a wish of Logan’s.”

  “Wow,” Spence said, shaking his head at me. “What a douche move.”

  “Have you bought all your kids BMWs?” Drake asked, his face turning bright red.

  My father smiled. “Logan is the eldest of four. I thought he’d earned it, and given the cost of school these days, why not? A helping hand has never done anyone wrong.”

  Drake seemed to be satisfied with his answer. “What does the First Lady think about all this?”

  “Connie is disappointed with how the press responded to the news, but she’s known Logan since he was a toddler. The article in the New York Times is very misleading and not at all accurate,” my father replied, never once losing his composure.

  “But,” Bree interrupted, “how has this affected your relationship with your children with the First Lady?”

  “It hasn’t,” he said, smiling. “Logan has been a part of our lives. He has a good relationship with his siblings. However the media might like to play this, the fact remains that Logan is a very private person. I accepted his wishes not to disclose my identity. It was something he asked of me when he was ten years old. Until now, it’s been something I’ve accepted.”

  “Wow, so you guys actually don’t hate each other?” Spence remarked.

  “No,” I said, scowling at him. “I never said I hated my father. I said it was a difficult relationship.”

  My father looked at me, a somewhat grim expression spreading across his face. “However the world likes to see this, there is no longer any shying away from it. There will be stories run. There will be breaches in trust and confidentiality, which is why Logan needs to surround himself with people who won’t sell a story or create some nonsense. The fact is, he comes from a loving home.”

  I sat in silence for several minutes before making eye contact with my father. He’d hit the nail on the head, not that I’d ever admit that to him, but he was right. I needed a support network that wouldn’t turn on me the moment the going got tough. There were so many fickle people willing to be friends with someone like me that it would be hard to see the truth from the lie.

  “Logan knows we’ve got his back,” Drake said. “We’re more than teammates. We’re brothers.”

  “I’ll second that,” Spence butted in. “And this is why Logan is perfect Gamma Alpha Pi material.”

  “Hmm, tell me a bit more about this fraternity,” my dad said.

  We spent the evening getting to know one another, filled with discussions about pledging, swimming and the possibility of the Olympics.

  * * * *

  “Your dad is pretty cool,” Bree said.

  We stopped at the front door of her building. “Yeah, I suppose he is.”

  She brought my hand to her mouth and kissed the back of it. “You worry too much.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  “Everything,” she said. “Who cares about what the world thinks? You’ve got parents who love you. That’s more than what most people have. So what if one of them happens to be one of the most powerful men in the world? People will get over it. I know I have.”

  I pulled her into my arms, ignoring the two men who lingered several feet away. “How did I strike gold with you?”

  “Hmm, I think it was a mixture of the vodka and your nice ass.” She giggled.

  Her laughter became infectious. I loved Bree’s ability to see the good in everyone, even when so much had been done to her. “I’ve got to go. There’s a meeting at the house for eight p.m. I’m already running behind,” I said, not wanting to let go of her.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got to sort my life out anyway,” she said, kissing me softly. “I’ve got an essay to complete, more forms for housing to fill in, and I need to call my mother.”

  “Oh, your mom? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss me one last time. “Now, go before I decide on being lazy.”

  I heeded her words and hugged her tight, giving her ass a playful squeeze. I then joined my envoy and went on to the pledge meeting. I sighed and curled my hand around the door’s handle. One way or another, I would be in the firing line. It was a small price to pay for being someone’s love child.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bree walked to Saint Christopher’s, oblivious to her surroundings. She was glad she’d had the opportunity to meet Logan’s father and see them together. It made the events of the past month seem small in comparison to the shift in his world.

  She never saw herself as being good enough for someone like Logan, especially now that she knew who he was. Yet he saw past all of the ugliness of her world. He forgave her past indiscretions and loved her for who she was, not for what she did. He was a keeper.

  For her, love had always seemed unattainable. From their youngest days, she had seen Jenny as the one who was never short of a date or without an admirer. Bree had accepted that it all came down to the popularity race. As much as she had played the game, she’d never truly believed in the whole system.

  Bree’s only ally had come in the form of vodka, which never ended well. Through all the craziness, she’d never imagined taking refuge in prayer or the church. That astounded her the most. In some ways, it had been a long time coming, something her grandmother would have been proud of. Though she would never admit to her newfound faith, not unless something required it.

  She smiled and opened the door, entering the small vestibule and blessing herself before taking a seat at the back of the chapel. Bree sat in silence until compelled to kneel and pray.

  Her visits to the chapel had become sporadic, but they served as a means for penance and forgiveness. Even if the only one she wanted to get forgiveness from no longer cared. She’d been sitting on the bench for the best part of fifteen minutes before Monsignor Mathers took a seat beside her and smiled.

  “I’m glad to see you have taken advantage of the sanctuary the church offers,” he remarked.

  “Yes, I didn’t think I could get used to this, but what do you know? I kind of like the peace and quiet,” she replied, rolling the rosary beads between her fingers.

  “That is something I hear quite often.” He looked at her. “So tell me, Bree, what has troubled you as of late?”

  Bree sighed and closed her eyes. She focused on the altar before speaking once more. “I’ve made the wrong choices. Very bad decisions that have cost me a lifelong friendship, and I suppose, any respect I had for myself is gone.”

  “That’s a shame,” Monsignor Mathers said. “But isn’t it true that you seek forgiveness? Otherwise, why would you be here?”

  “It’s all I want,” Bree said, sounding sad. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

  �
�If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. John, chapter one, verse nine,” he said. “Your being here, speaking with God and acknowledging your sins, is a step in the right direction to gaining the forgiveness you seek. It may not come directly from those you’ve hurt, but ultimately, God will see fit to guide you when the time comes.”

  Bree sat there, thinking about what Monsignor Mathers had said. She couldn’t discount his words of wisdom. He was right. The longer Bree punished herself, the more reason Jenny and those she’d hurt would have to continue to treat her as the villain they’d branded her.

  Forgiveness had to start in the heart. If she was to move on with her life, then she needed to ask God for his guidance. The road to happiness was never going to be easy. Now that she’d seen the error of her ways, she would make it her mission to become the kind of woman she wanted to be.

  After an hour of silent prayer, Bree lit a candle and left the chapel. It was dark and late. She’d also missed several phone calls from her mother. Dialing her mother’s number, Bree continued the thirty-minute journey back to campus.

  She noticed a shadow following close behind.

  “Hi, Mom,” Bree said.

  “Oh, Bree, I’ve been calling you for the last hour. Where on earth have you been?” her mother asked, sounding more than a little pissed.

  “I had study, so I turned the phone off. I’m sorry.” Crossing the street, Bree stepped behind two cars and got back up on the sidewalk.

  “We had a nice conversation with the Brenners today,” her mother said.

  “And?”

  “And you know very well what I’m on about.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to do this over the phone,” Bree said, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her.

  “Then when? You’re too busy with school, your father’s in Dubai, and I fly to London on Friday,” her mother said. “I would have preferred to have heard the gritty details from you, not from a sparring mother who has more than a few skeletons in her own closet.”

  Bree sighed, a headache instantly presenting itself. “Mom, don’t believe everything you hear.” She hated the fact that their nosy neighbor had taken it upon herself to dish the dirt to her mother.

  “So you weren’t fucking Jack Puller?” Her mother was direct with the question.

  Bree’s cheeks grew warm. God, she thought, why does she have to be so uncouth?

  “Yes, yes, I was,” Bree replied.

  “Oh, honey!” her mother said. She became a little emotional, which was strange for Bree to hear. Her mother wasn’t the kind of woman to break down so easily. “That bastard overstepped the mark!”

  “What do you mean?”

  There was a short pause before her mother spoke again. “Put it like this. Jack Puller has a thing for younger women. I’ve had a few cases come my way that have suddenly been dropped. All charges gone, and the case closed.”

  “What are you saying, Mom?” Bree asked, looking behind her.

  “I’m saying that you need to be careful, especially now that the affair has become public knowledge.”

  Bree’s stomach turned. “Mom, why aren’t you angry with me?”

  “Honey, I’m pissed as hell, but you’re a young woman who became entangled in something you weren’t prepared for.”

  “I want to come home,” Bree said.

  “Running away isn’t going to help. Believe me, I’ve plenty of clients who think running from their problems eases the burden, but it festers and gets worse. In the long run, you never move past it. You’re my kid. I won’t allow you to wallow in self-pity or regret. And if there are any pity parties, I’d like to think I’d get first dibs on the ice cream.”

  Bree smiled upon hearing her mother’s firm but attentive response. It was what she needed—a little clarity from the woman who’d given birth to her.

  “I gotta go, honey. It’s late, and I’ve a five a.m. call,” she said.

  “Okay, goodnight, Mom. Thanks for the pep talk.” Bree smiled.

  “I love you, baby. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “Love you, too,” Bree said, and ended the call.

  The campus loomed in the distance. She made her way toward it. With her right hand in her pocket, she held on to the rosary beads, twirling the cross between her finger and thumb.

  Bree briskly moved along the underpass of the Olentangy freeway, acutely aware she was being followed. She glanced behind her. It was too dark for her to make out someone’s presence nearby, though she could hear the person’s footsteps in the distance. Spooked, she picked up her pace, every nerve in her body on high alert.

  She swallowed hard, hearing her pulse pound in her ears. Sweat built up across the back of her neck. As she was about to step out from the underpass, a hand covered her mouth from behind. The person’s warm breath fanned her ear.

  “Shhh, Bree, everything’s going to be all right now.”

  The scent of the person’s cologne assailed her nostrils. Bree acknowledged the fact that Jack now held her in his arms against her will. She found it hard to believe that he would do something as cunning as this. “Please, just let me go,” she whispered.

  “Not until we’ve discussed this properly,” Jack replied. His lips brushed against her cheek. “How about a drink?”

  “Jack, I just want to go back to my room.”

  “Not happening. Not when there’s been so much left unsaid.” He slipped his hand inside her coat, cupping her breast. “We were only getting started. Weren’t you having a good time?”

  The tears burned and threatened to burst from their dam. “It was just a casual hook-up, nothing serious. That’s exactly what you told me, remember?”

  “But then you became like an addiction. Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it, too.” His breath reeked of alcohol.

  “Jack, go back to your hotel. You’re drunk,” Bree said, trying her best to break away from him and run straight for campus security.

  “Nuh-uh, not yet, my little sexy Bree,” he muttered in her ear, his hand now wrapped firmly around her neck. “I think you need to be reminded of how good we fuck.”

  The alarm bells rang in her head. Terror set in. She feared becoming a victim to a man who’d once showered her with affection. “Please, let me go!” Bree panicked. “I won’t tell anyone. Not even Logan.”

  Jack let out a menacing laugh. “Logan, the little dipshit who thinks he’s a man? Why would I be worried about him?” Bree could tell he was drunk and didn’t care about the repercussions. “Do you know what it was like for me to sit and watch you flaunt yourself all over that boy?” he said. “It reminded me that I wasn’t willing to share you. Not until I was done with you.”

  “Jack,” Bree said. Her hands trembled as she tried to pry his fingers from her neck. “Don’t do this, please.”

  “Do what, Bree?”

  “Please don’t hurt me.” She burst into tears, unable to withstand the fear a moment longer.

  Jack spun her around to face him, his hands on her shoulders. His eyes bored into hers. “I would never hurt you, Bree. What kind of man do you take me for?

  Shaking her head, Bree couldn’t control the sobs. Her nose ran and her body shuddered. All she wanted to do was to escape to the safety of Logan’s arms.

  Silently, she prayed. Please, God, don’t abandon me. Not now. “Then, let me go. Please, Jack!” Bree begged.

  He shook his head and stared at several cars as they drove past. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you think I’m a monster. You couldn’t be further from the truth if you tried,” he said, staring hard at her. “You need to come with me.” He grabbed her arm. “And if you resist, I’m not sure what I’ll do. When it comes to you, Bree, I’ve no control.”

  Bree’s heart thumped hard. She tried to break the grip Jack had on her, but it was impossible. He was bigger and stronger—resisting him would cause her
more damage than good.

  They headed back toward Kinnear Road. Every so often, Bree glanced about, hoping to grab the attention of any of the commuters coming to and from the university campus. Jack’s grip on her wrist tightened. He bent her arm behind her back, giving him the advantage.

  “My father is going to kill you when I tell him about this,” she threatened, not expecting the warning to sink in.

  “Your daddy is too wrapped up in his own little world to care about what’s going on here, Bree,” he replied.

  “My parents are aware of what we’ve been doing. I guess it’s only a matter of time before Molly addresses the rumors.”

  “What do you mean?” His grip loosened.

  “I had an interesting conversation with my mother. Call it a heart to heart,” Bree said. “My mother has been informed of the whole sad mess and I confirmed those rumors. I’d much prefer her to hear it from me, and not the exaggerated version that will no doubt surface.”

  “You do know you’re playing a dangerous game here,” he muttered, pulling her back toward his chest. “I could just fuck you, dump you somewhere and leave you for dead. Or maybe we could do things nicely, just like the good old days. Remember those, Bree?”

  “Or you could do the right thing and let me go.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. She prayed that he’d listen and release her.

  Jack frowned. Moments later, he loosened his grip on Bree, looking like a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  Bree shook her head, her temper getting the better of her. “No, you’re not sorry, Jack. You’re drunk and acting like an asshole,” she cried. “Is this how I’m going to live the rest of my life? Looking over my shoulder, wondering if you’re watching me?”

  Bree faced Jack as a light rain began to fall. The silence between them was filled with sadness, a cruel reality check that let her know things were over. Bree had known this the moment she’d kissed Logan.