San Antonio's Finest Eligibles

by Tee, Marian

  Her phone rang, and a hysterical laugh escaped her when she saw it was Nicholas calling.

  How ironic was this, she thought helplessly. She hadn't heard from him when she wanted to, and now he was calling her, when even the mere thought of hearing his voice was no longer bearable.

  NICHOLAS EXHALED HIS breath in relief when he finally heard his wife pick up the phone. "Tabitha?"

  Silence.

  Tension seeped into him, and he involuntarily tightened his grip on his phone. "I know you have every reason to be mad," he said quietly. "But I promise you, I can and will explain everything as soon as I get back. I have Daniel with me now and—-"

  "Nicholas."

  He stiffened.

  "I...know."

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  "Tabitha—-"

  "There was some kind of miscommunication. Your lawyer had documents for you, and they ended up addressing it to me. So that's how I know—-"

  "Whatever it made you think," he said fiercely, "it's wrong. Everything's changed—-"

  Bee closed her eyes. Liar. She wanted to scream and sob the word out. Liar, liar, liar. But more than anything, she wished she could be stupid enough to still believe in him.

  "Just wait for me to come home, and we'll fix this." He could feel her hurting, and his inability to do anything about it was driving him batshit. "I promise you, we'll—-"

  "I really loved you, you know," she whispered.

  Nicholas whitened.

  "I'm just so ashamed that I was so stupid and foolish—-"

  "Tabitha—-"

  "That I left you no choice but to pretend you cared—-" Bee's voice broke. "I'm just so sorry."

  The line went dead.

  Daniel could feel his own face paling when he saw the way his father's hand went limp, his phone slipping from his fingers and falling to the carpet with a heavy thud.

  "Dad?"

  Nicholas' gaze was bleak as he turned to face his son. "She knows everything."

  Daniel's blood went cold. "What do you mean—-"

  "Just fucking that," Nicholas said tonelessly. "She knows everything—-" Memories of Tabitha's last words lashed his mind, and he bit back an agonized groan.

  I really loved you, you know.

  I'm just so ashamed.

  I'm just so sorry.

  "Dad." Daniel's voice broke through the torment of Nicholas' thoughts. "I'm going to call Thomas. I'll make sure he doesn't let mitria leave until we talk things out and make things right..."

  But when they finally made it back to the ranch, it was to find out that they were too late.

  "I'm sorry, sir," the older man said heavily. "But she was already long gone when you called."

  Chapter Thirteen

  A pair of bouncers dragged a drunk and wildly struggling Horace out of the bar, and his back landed on the pavement with a heavy thud as the men let go unceremoniously.

  Horace opened his eyes and saw the people waiting in line to get in taking photos of him as they whispered among themselves in between snickers of derision.

  "What the fuck are you looking at?" Horace yelled as he clumsily pushed himself off the ground just to sway alarmingly on his feet. "You fucking—-"

  Someone threw a used, greasy wrapper from a fastfood chain at him. "Go home, loser!"

  Bitter humiliation turned Horace's face beet red as the crowd's jeering laughter made him feel like shrinking and wilting inside.

  Stumbling away, Horace began the long, tiring walk of shame to get home, and with every step, his rage just kept burning and burning until he felt like he had literally turned himself into a walking time bomb.

  It's all that bitch's fault, Horace thought viciously. Goddamn that bitch. His life was hell because of Tabitha Sandler, who no doubt fancied herself now as some rich hoity-toity gal just because she had the devil's own luck getting married to a billionaire asshole from Texas.

  Stupid bitch had probably spouted out all kinds of lies about him just to get revenge. And the bitch certainly knew how to send a man on his knees. Cowboy What's-His-Face had bought the factory just to have Horace fired in a snap, and all the perks and luxuries he had been used to went away with it. The company car. The paid clubhouse membership. His very fucking name and reputation.

  He was a pariah now, and because that bitch also had some lawyers digging out skeletons from everyone's closets, sexual harassment complaints from decades ago had suddenly resurfaced and allowed the factory to terminate Horace without reference and pension.

  Fucking bitch.

  He would make her pay one day. Make her pay real bad. Just had to sober up and he would drive all the way to Texas and fucking kidnap and rape her. Cut her legs off so she'd be permanently on her knees and suck his dick all day long.

  Just had to sober up—-

  A taxi cab drove past Horace before slowing down to park in front of the town's only motel.

  Well, would you look at that?

  If he was lucky, a stripper could be getting out, and maybe he could get her to service him for an IOU.

  The passenger door finally opened, and Horace licked his lips in anticipation.

  Come on, come on—-

  Slim, denim-clad legs swung out, but Horace didn't let it get him down. Hookers could still wear jeans, too, he told himself. And that was a damn progressive thought, so those fucking feminist old witches from management really had it all wrong about him.

  The cab driver gave his passenger a hand with her overnight bag before speeding off. The woman turned, and the sight of her was like getting a bucket of ice-cold water thrown right at his face.

  God fucking damn.

  Was that really Tabitha Sandler he was seeing?

  He watched her head to the front desk, and his own feet lurched into movement. Closer and closer. Until he was near enough to hear her speak—-

  "Just for one person, yes," he heard her say to the receptionist, and the voice was unmistakable.

  Goddamn bitch was back.

  And Horace was in the right place and time to give her a nice, proper welcome.

  A RENTAL PICK-UP TRUCK similar to what Nicholas drove back home was already waiting on standby by the time his private jet arrived at a small county-owned airport located just a few miles away from Tabitha's hometown.

  After instructing his head of security to continue monitoring Tabitha's cellphone activity, Nicholas drove straight to his wife's old address, and throughout the twenty-minute ride, a rare mix of terror and desperation continuously threatened his self-control.

  Ever since landing in Georgia, he had been unable to shake off a pervasive sense of danger, like a sixth sense warning him that his wife was in danger.

  When he finally arrived at his destination, the sight that awaited him did nothing to help alleviate his concerns. All he could do was feel sick to his stomach at the place Tabitha had called home for so many years. It didn't feel fucking right, that she had to live in a dump like this, while he had just been a two-hour's flight away, with more money than he could spend in several lifetimes.

  If only he had known her sooner.

  If only he had listened to Joe and didn't let the past cast a shadow on every decision he made.

  If only.

  Then she might not have left him - might not be all alone now, pregnant, hurt, and vulnerable to all the despicable horrors that plagued the world.

  Even knowing that she couldn't possibly be home, he still found himself moving, a part of him needing to know more about her and see for himself the house that served as the setting of her earlier years.

  The front door was unlocked, and it swung open with a loud creaking sound. Unknown to Tabitha, he had also instructed one of his finance managers to purchase the property from the bank, and while he had yet to make up his mind about what to do with it, he had his manager settle all its outstanding bills in the meantime.

  And since that should include electricity—-

  A flick of the light switch eradicated the darkn
ess that had swathed the entire home, and Nicholas sucked his breath as memories instantly flooded him. In the short amount of time they had been together, Tabitha would occasionally share with him stories from her childhood.

  His gaze fell on the framed photo on the center table. It's my favorite picture of my parents. They were out grocery shopping, and they had three-year-old me in the cart. A charming story...but what she had kept to herself was that the frame housing it was nothing but cheap plastic now, and the antique silver frame she spoke of had probably been sold off to pay for her Great-Aunt's treatments.

  As Nicholas looked around, he found evidence everywhere. The shelves that she once told him had been filled with books were now empty. The mahogany table that had been in her family for generation was gone now, and in its stead was another cheap, plastic replacement. It was cheap fucking plastic every goddamn place he looked, when Tabitha deserved silk and velvet.

  And she had been too damn proud to tell him any of this, Nicholas thought grimly.

  Stepping back out, he found himself breathing hard as a sudden, strangling feeling of desperation ravaged him.

  Where are you, baby?

  Come back to me.

  Please.

  His hand shook as he pulled his phone out from his pocket. He had promised to call Daniel regularly and keep him abreast, the only way to convince his son to stay behind and let Nicholas do his groveling on his own.

  But before he could hit Daniel's number on speed dial, his phone suddenly rang, and he sucked his breath when he saw his head of security's name flash on the screen.

  Answering the call, he asked right away, "Have you found her?"

  "She's down at the local hospital—-"

  Nicholas paled. "Has something happened?" But he was already walking back to his car as he spoke, his body seemingly switching to autopilot mode as he got behind the wheel and got the GPS navigator started.

  "We've been informed she's fine, but from what we could gather, a case of break-in was reported and—-" The other man's tone turned remorseful. "I'm sorry, sir, but there's been mention of physical battery and rape..."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nicholas couldn't believe how bad she looked when he entered the hospital room and saw her lying alone in the bed, small, pale, thin, and all bruised up. She had one blackened eye, a cut on her lip, a bite mark on her neck, and bruises all over her arms.

  And those were just the things he could see, Nicholas thought grimly. The only consolation was that Horace Garris was worse off, with Bee having eventually succeeded in fending him off by literally poking her fingers into his eyes, kneeing him on the groin, and - for the final blow - striking him unconscious by hitting his head with the sharp edge of the table lamp.

  He stayed in the chair next to her bed, keeping a silent vigil as he tried to figure the best way to apologize and convince her—-

  Tabitha started to stir, and he straightened in his seat. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and he tensed.

  Bee hurt everywhere, and it took a while for her eyes to focus, and her mind to accept that she was not dreaming.

  It really was Nicholas, and he was looking at her...

  Like he cared.

  Stop that, Bee!

  This man had never been really her husband, had never really wanted someone like her, and it was time she stopped acting and thinking like it wasn't so.

  "Tabitha." His deep, gravelly voice had Bee reluctantly lifting her head. "I'm sorry this happened. It's my fault—-"

  The vehement shake of her head cut his words short. "Please don't think that." Bee was dismayed. "It's not your fault—-"

  "But it is." Forcing himself to continue meeting her gaze, he told her in no uncertain terms what he had done to Horace and why the man's subsequent downfall could've made him feel he had nothing to lose in attacking her.

  Afterwards, he waited for Tabitha to condemn him for being careless and witholding things from him, but instead, she simply shook her head, her gaze filled with dismay...for him.

  "I still don't think it's your fault."

  And that was that. She had almost died because of him, and she was worried about how he felt. She was just that kind of girl, Nicholas thought painfully, and a part of him had always known that. The part that subconsciously, from the beginning, Joe, Daniel, and just about everyone else was right about her.

  Tabitha was a good person, the kind that would always find it easy to forgive and forget.

  But would she also be the kind, Nicholas wondered tensely, to give him a second chance?

  Bee knew the exact moment when everything about Horace was forgotten, and it was time to speak about their other...issues. It was in the way he was looking at her now, the way he slowly reached for her hand, and when his fingers curled over hers, it just suddenly happened, and she couldn't stop it.

  The tears fell, and she hurt. So badly.

  Because it had just occurred to her that this might be the last time she'd ever feel his touch again.

  "I want to stay married to you, Tabitha."

  Bee could only shake her head, the tears falling faster. Dutiful and honorable as always, she thought painfully. But she couldn't have him living a lie for the rest of his life just because of her and the baby.

  "Please." Nicholas had never begged in his entire life, but it turned out to be a lot easier than he imagined, when everything that mattered was at stake. "Just give me a second chance—-"

  "Please just stop," Bee whispered brokenly. "You never wanted to marry me, Nicholas—-"

  "But I do now," he gritted out.

  "You're just saying that because you feel guilty about what happened," she cried out.

  "No!" His grip on her hand tightened. "I'm saying it because it's true. And you're right, I didn't want to marry you at the start, but I wanted you. From the very start, I wanted you, dammit. And the longer you were with me, it became something more. Something else entirely—-"

  "And yet you left," she choked out, "when I told you I'm pregnant."

  He whitened.

  "And you were gone for so long—-"

  "I'm sorry," he said rawly. "The moment you told me you were pregnant, it just hit me then that I couldn't lie to myself any longer. That I had to make a choice, and I needed to get away and think. I spent the days looking for Daniel—-"

  Bee didn't understand what he was saying. "Look for him?"

  "He might have been calling you every day, but he was lying about his phone calls to me. He was hiding from me, Tabitha, and not even my best investigators could find him. The whole time I was gone, I was just trying to track him down. I wanted to talk to him—-"

  Because he wanted to know, Bee couldn't help thinking, why his son could be so stupid.

  Nicholas, seeing the look on Tabitha's face, said sharply, "It's not what you're thinking." And when she only looked at him, he said savagely, "I'm not lying, dammit. And if you want the whole fucking truth - I didn't really know at the start why I needed to see him. I just felt I had to, and it was only when I found him, and we started talking - when I heard his reason for choosing you—-" He brought her hand to his lips. "I realized Daniel was right. You were what I needed. And I still need you. I will always need you. Because I—-"

  "Please!" The word came out in a sob, Bee tearing her hand out of his hold when she realized what he had been about to say. "Please just don't say that. Please d-don't lie—-"

  "I'm not lying—-"

  "But you are. I know you are."

  And she couldn't afford to let herself believe anything else.

  Because self-respect was all she had left.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Morning, mitria. Breakfast is served."

  Rubbing still-groggy eyes as she sat up, Bee saw Danny coming in with a fully loaded tray in his hands. "Oh, Danny. You don't have—-" The tray was now on her lap. "Err, thank you, I guess."

  "You're welcome," the eighteen-year-old said cheerfully as he settled himself in the floral stuffed
armchair next to the window. Raising the veggie shake in his hand in a toast, he said with a smile, "Bon appétit, mitria."

  It had been almost a month since the attack happened, which meant she only had three days of recuperation left. Three days, and then she would be out of his control, and she could move on and figure out the next chapter in her life.

  "You're stressing yourself unnecessarily again," Daniel guessed with a sigh, having seen the familiar faraway look in his stepmother's eyes.

  Bee immediately felt defensive. "No, I'm not." And then she started shoving slices of pancake into her mouth, one after another, just to have an excuse not to get into another conversation with Danny about his father.

  The boy thought the world of Nicholas, and that was understandable. Many cowboy fathers might've tried to lasso the homosexuality out of their sons or something, but Nicholas had done the opposite.

  So yes, she got why Danny was so keen on convincing her to feel the same about his dad, but what her soon-to-be former stepson didn't understand that had never been the issue. She thought the world of Nicholas Sutherland, too. Had since so from the start and still did.

  It was the memories of all the things she had done as the so-called Mrs. Sutherland that she couldn't bear to think about - and it was those same tortuous memories that made her unable to stay in his presence for long.

  "Mitria..." The mattress dipped under Daniel's weight as he sat on the edge of the bed, his heart heavy at the way tears had started rolled down silently his stepmother's cheeks. "Is being here with us really that bad?"

  "I just can't stand it," she whispered. "Being with him and..." Remembering how foolishly forward she had once been, flirting with him, seducing him, even giving him a blowjob as a monthsary gift—-

  A choked sob escaped her, and the sound made Daniel swallow hard. He had been hoping his dad would find a way to patch things up with Bee, and that they could still be a family, but seeing her so miserable all this time made him realize just how selfish he was being.