by Nesly Clerge
She’d allowed both of them, albeit unknowingly, to take advantage of her for years. Whatever Penelope was playing at, she was about to find out that she wasn’t the only one who could spill secrets.
CHAPTER 109
The doorbell rang. It rang again, followed by pounding on Chelsea’s front door. Through the glass panel, she saw Penelope’s car parked out front, reversed her steps, went up the stairs and turned right, walking until she reached the end of the hallway. She opened the window and shouted, “Leave, or I’ll call the police.”
Penelope walked to the rear of her car and looked up. “You bitch!”
“Problem?”
“I got fired. Seems my boss’s wife received an anonymous call. Anonymous, my ass. Happy now?”
“Guess you should have earned your huge bonuses and flexible work schedule the old-fashioned way. Oh, that’s right. You did. The oldest way.”
“You went too far this time, Chelsea.”
“You know what they say about payback. Guess you should have saved some of the money instead of blowing it on cosmetic surgeries and clothes.”
“This isn’t over. Whatever I do now, you’ve asked for it.”
“You’ve already done your worst.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Don’t threaten me. Or I’ll tell the police it was you who gave me this face and lip. You were responsible, after all. It may have been Garrett who inflicted it, but you set him off.”
“Maybe I did. But I’m much better at getting him off.”
“If you think Garrett’s going to thank you for what you did, you’re wrong. Speaking of Garrett, how is he? Have you seen him lately? Has he invited you to spend your lives together in a drunken stupor?”
Penelope stomped to the driver’s side of her car. “I’m going to come up with something very special, just for you.”
“As long as it doesn’t involve whipped cream and whips.”
CHAPTER 110
Garrett scrolled to Jeffrey Davis’ cell phone number. When Frederick Starks was still a free man, the three of them had engaged in weekly rowdy partying. The strip clubs, lap dances, and occasional, more private parties with select women had stopped when Starks had been arrested.
He’d elected to stay away from the mess, and had read in the newspaper that Jeffrey had taken over running Starks’s business empire. Because of his self-imposed removal from their sphere, Jeffrey might not want to talk to him. The call was answered after the first ring.
“Garrett Hall. Man, it’s been ages. How the heck are you?”
“Thanks for taking my call. I wasn’t certain you would.”
“Look, I understood. It was easier for me because I’m single. I knew you wanted to keep your wife off your back. But sometimes I miss those days.”
“I hear you.”
“What are you up to?”
“That’s too long a story for the time I have.”
“You don’t sound good.”
“At the moment, I’m not. I need to see Starks. I know you visit him. What’s required for me to get in there?”
“Couple of things. Starks has to put your name on his approved visitors list and you have to be vetted. Takes a couple weeks. Maybe even months. Red tape and all that.”
“I can’t wait. I need to see him as soon as possible.”
“Sorry, but that’s how it goes. Wait a minute. Starks said you treated him when he had the transfusion.”
“I did.”
“That should work. Call the prison and tell them you’re Starks’s doctor and you want to check on your patient. I doubt they’ll refuse you. Don’t know if they’ll have to vet you or not, but it’s your best shot. Since they have a doctor on staff there, want to tell me what’s up?”
“Another time. Maybe I’ll buy you dinner one night soon.”
“I’m in. Just let me know when. And, let me know how it goes.”
“Will do. One more thing. Do you have the number of the prison handy?”
“Sure. I’ll text it to you soon as we hang up.”
Seconds after the call ended, the number for Sands Correctional Facility was added to Garrett’s phone list and called.
CHAPTER 111
Gaining approval to check on Starks had been easier and quicker than Garrett had anticipated. Traffic was light that Saturday morning as he made the two-hour trek in three hours to the maximum security prison. The snow wasn’t yet as heavy as it was predicted to become, but only those determined to get somewhere they had to be were on the roads.
He turned onto the long drive that led to the parking lot provided in front for visitors. Counted the guard towers, felt squeamish at the sight of the multiple coils of razor wire atop the tall wall enclosing the property’s perimeter.
It took twenty minutes to be checked in, scanned for potential or actual weapons, and his medical bag searched. A guard whose belt was loaded down with a holstered pistol, blackjack, and Taser gun escorted him through the gray interior and heavy electronic barred doors, to a private room. Garrett sat at the small table. And waited. Nearly fifteen minutes later, he stood and extended his hand.
“Starks. You let your hair grow back. I like it better than the shaved head.”
“Made Steve, the barber, pretty happy. He cried when I had him shave it off and cried when I had him give me a trim.”
“How are you feeling? Anymore health problems since I saw you last?”
Starks shook his head. “So far, so good. I didn’t know doctors made prison calls for patients they treated at a hospital.”
“They don’t. This was the easiest way to bypass the long vetting process for approval. I’ll check you, of course, but I’m here for a different reason. One only you can understand better than anyone else.”
“You look like crap. What’s going on?”
“That’s primarily why I came. To discuss my situation with you. Get your input. It’ll take a while to tell you everything.”
Starks slouched back in his chair. “I’ve got fourteen years to listen, unless my attorney can work some magic to get me out sooner.”
CHAPTER 112
Starks stared hard at Garrett. “Booze and guns don’t mix. In your case, get rid of both. As for going after this Thompson guy—don’t. Take it from me: Sands isn’t a place where you want to take up permanent residence.”
“I get that. It’s why I didn’t go through with it and decided to talk to you. But I also understand why you went after Ozy Hessinger.” Garrett slammed his fist into his palm. “I want to take the guy out.”
“That wasn’t my intention when I went to Ozy’s house that night. I only meant to inform his wife, in front of him, about what he’d been doing. I’m glad the bastard lived. Saved me from getting life in here. Now, he gets to lose everything he cost me. Except his freedom, that is.”
“Hardly seems enough of a penalty for him to pay.”
Starks shrugged. “It’s all I’m going to get.”
“Finding out what Chelsea’s done has damn near destroyed me. My faith in her and our marriage was based on lies. Since your experience is similar, I need to know how you coped with your feelings about Kayla, once you learned the truth.”
“Obviously, not well. The Bible warns us about such women, but we don’t listen.”
“Not a book I’ve ever felt tempted to read.”
“I was the same way. Until I got here and had lots of time on my hands, plus working in the library. I memorized a specific passage I came across. It starts at Proverbs, chapter five, verse three. ‘For the lips of an adulteress drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil; but in the end she is bitter as gall, sharp as a double-edged sword.’”
“Maybe Chelsea’s lips dripped honey with her lovers, but I got the gall.”
“I’m not done yet. ‘Her feet go down to death, her steps lead straight to the grave. She gives no thought to the way of life; her paths are crooked, but she knows it not.’”
Garrett stood and pac
ed. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? Chelsea knew it was wrong, as did Kayla. And I certainly feel like I’m dying. Every day, some part of me withers.”
“I know what you mean. And you want to punish her severely for doing this to you.”
“Damn right.”
“I wanted to rip Kayla from one end to the other. There weren’t enough vile things I could say to her or about her. I wanted everything bad that could happen to her to happen. I’m thinking you feel the same way about Chelsea.”
“She deserves it.”
“It’s as though her actions erased a large portion of who you are, in your eyes and the eyes of others. The humiliation is unbearable.”
“I’m diminishing under the weight of it.”
“You feel shredded because she deceived you, particularly in the ways she did it. What you believed about her and your life was all a lie. Because of that you feel you can never trust her again.”
“Exactly.”
“Even if you want to.”
CHAPTER 113
“Why the hell would I want to ever trust Chelsea again?” Garrett faced Starks, his expression made plain his disgust.
Starks crossed his arms at his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Even with all the emotions I had—the anger, rage, bitterness—I still considered Kayla my wife. The mother of my children. My exclusive property. Twenty years of my life had been invested in my relationship with her.”
“Yeah. No return on that investment for me, either.”
“It’s not that easy to let go of what you believed you had.”
Garrett slammed a hand down on the table. “I trusted her.”
Starks fixed his gaze on Garrett. “And she trusted you.”
“Whose damn side are you on?”
“I know, right? Every time I pointed my finger at Kayla’s perfidy, there was always someone around who was ready to twist that finger toward me. I was indignant as hell.”
“Those people are fucking idiots. Probably never had anything like this happen to them. They don’t get it.”
“Maybe. Too bad they were right.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this. You’ve been brainwashed or something.” Garrett placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, until his face was a foot away from Starks’s. “Maybe you’re ready to cave, but I’m not. I don’t deserve what she did to me. I worked my ass off. Gave her everything she wanted. Instead of staying lower middle-class, her life is luxurious because of me.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.”
“Let me show you something that may change your tune.” Garrett pulled A Dark Walk from his medical bag. He flipped the book over and pushed it toward Starks. “That’s the guy she’s been screwing. That’s the guy she’s so sure she loves and plans to marry. Plans to move into my house with my daughter.”
Starks whistled. “That’s an added element I didn’t have to deal with. At least, not that I’m aware of. Kayla went with so many men, who knows?”
“Sorry to say it, but I’m relieved I’m not dealing with that same level of treachery. Still, it would make more sense to me if Chelsea had fallen for someone wealthier than me, whatever the color of his skin. What the hell was she thinking? That I’d pay for their life? She’s fucking crazy. This guy,” he jabbed his finger on Luke’s photo, “must have seduced her. That’s the only way this crap could have happened.”
“You sure about that?”
“I can’t believe Chelsea would have gotten involved with him otherwise. He can’t afford more than an old car with rust spots and a box for a house in a neighborhood of tacky boxes.”
Starks nodded. “How many times have you driven by his house?”
“Just the one time.”
“You did better than I did. Every night I couldn’t sleep, I took a drive by Ozy’s place, which turned out to be nearly every night for months.”
“I had my gun with me. I aimed it at his front door, wishing hard he’d open it.”
“You want to beat him to a pulp or end him.”
“Yes.”
“Because your life fractured into pieces you’ll never be able to put back together, and you believe he’s responsible.”
“I just fucking said so.”
“Sorry, buddy. He didn’t break your life. You did.”
CHAPTER 114
Garrett grabbed the book and shoved it into his medical bag. “It was a mistake to come here. I thought you, if anyone, would get it.”
“I know some of what I’m saying isn’t what you want to hear. I sure as hell didn’t, when it was said to me. But you came here for the voice of experience. That’s what I’m trying to give you. You need to get off that gilded throne you’ve put yourself on and let me talk.”
“Why don’t you say something worth hearing?”
“Why don’t you sit the fuck down and keep your mouth shut for a minute.”
Garrett scraped the chair across the floor and plopped into it. He folded his arms and stared at the table. After a moment he said, “All right, I’m listening.”
“We’re both successful men. At least, I was before I screwed up royally. You’ve screwed up, too, but you still have a chance. What you need to do is get yourself off the booze. You have to have a clear head going forward. You want to get reinstated at the hospital, don’t you?”
“I’m worried that may not happen.”
“Any reason it shouldn’t?”
Garrett shrugged. “How the hell should I know? Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“Let’s deal with one issue at a time. If you lose your position there, you still have a practice. You can still make money from that. Build the business and open another practice on the other side of town. Then open another in another town.”
“Great. Now, what about Chelsea?”
“What about her?”
“How do I deal with her, after learning who she really is?”
“Each of us eventually shows people who we are. Or who we choose to be. Or who we blame others as having forced us to be. There are two sides to every situation.”
Garrett dropped his head into his hands. “I loved her.”
“Men like us don’t know how to love. At least, not at first. Maybe not ever, for some. Possessiveness isn’t love. Taking a person for granted isn’t, either. Men like you and me have to learn what love isn’t before we learn what it is.”
“I don’t understand where you’re going with this. Sounds like a bunch of damn dribble. I expected more from you.”
“Maybe it’s time you do something I didn’t—see a counselor. There’s a good one here. Name’s Matthew Demory. Maybe he’d consent to see you as a private patient. Off-site, of course.”
“I don’t think that’s the way for me to go.”
“And I think you’d get something out of it, if it’s with the right person. One thing about Demory: He’s big on forgiveness. A pill I personally found more than difficult to swallow.”
Garrett laughed, but not with amusement.
Starks raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I’ve badgered Chelsea for years to forgive me. She couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. Now, others will expect me to do that? Everything is fucking twisted.”
“Bites, doesn’t it? I had the same problem.” Starks shifted forward. “I’m serious about you moving on with your life. Because here’s what I know: Every time you look at her, you’ll see Thompson. See them together. At least until time allows the images to fade.”
Garrett ran a hand back and forth across his forehead. “That’s happening now. I can’t shut the damn films off.”
“If you can’t live with that, you need to let go. Those thoughts are poison, buddy. They’ll taint every moment you’re around her.”
“How am I supposed to stop them?”
“Maybe now you can understand what it’s been like for Chelsea.”
“If I hear that one more time—”
“You ought to repeat it to yourself seve
ral times a day. Until you finally comprehend the truth. As for the thoughts, try as best you can to let them go when they pop up.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Keep busy. That’s why I said time has to take care of making them fade. But only if you don’t fuel them by playing them over and over, or inventing new versions.”
“Not easy.”
“Neither is forgiving her. Or yourself, when you’re finally able to get that far.”
“I don’t see how that can ever happen.”
“You never know. The main thing is to not do anything stupid. That’s why it’s crucial you let go of any such thoughts. When you see the brutality in here and deaths that result, as I have … when you’re on the receiving end of that brutality or hold your broken, dying son in your arms as I did—that’s a story for another time—those types of experiences wake you up to reality. Especially the reality about yourself.”
Garrett shook his head. “Look, Starks—”
“You and I are cut from the same cloth. I get what you’re thinking and feeling. You know I do.”
“I know you’re trying to help. It’s just there are times I wish that Thompson bastard was dead. Chelsea, too.”
“You only feel that way because it isn’t a fact. I promise you’d feel different if it were. At least about Chelsea.” Starks looked away. He exhaled hard and cleared his throat before facing Garrett.
Garrett studied Starks’s face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
CHAPTER 115
“Kayla has cancer. She’s dying,” Starks said. “As much as I’ve hated her, as smug as I felt when she miscarried her boyfriend’s baby and he left her—which, I always said he would, I never thought I’d get news that she had months to live.”
“But won’t that fix things? I mean, isn’t it better if she’s out of the picture for good? Out of sight, out of mind kind of thing?”
“As much as you might want to harm Chelsea, and him, imagine what it would be like to realize your daughter was about to lose both parents—you to prison and her mother in death. You think you feel tortured now? This hell you’re in would get a lot worse. You’d also get the perspective shift you’ve resisted and still want to.”
