She laughed.
We walked through the three rooms of the gallery. She came to a closed door and looked at us both. We nodded. She turned the knob and walked in. She sobbed.
We had given her the things she had always wanted in a studio. Lots of room, a moveable wall, enough storage to keep her in supplies for years. There was plenty of space for her desk, all her easels and more. Marco folded up the wall and pulled her into the second part of the studio. There was a large room where she could easily hold a few dozen more students. A dais that she could put the damn chaise longue on. There was a large kitchen and alongside a change room with a powder room.
We had tried to think of everything. Vince had been a great help and had another artist client give us a hand. The rooms had lots of windows as well as plenty of lightning. Sliding glass walls led outside to a deck where she could even hold outdoor classes if the weather was suitable.
She dropped our hands and walked around, touching the walls. Marco and I stood arm-in-arm, watching her. She was looking into the storage cupboards. She was shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe it. Finally, she turned and looked at us. Before we could react, she raced across the room to us and flung herself into our arms.
We had intended to do this at a more romantic time, but for some reason this just seemed the right time. When she stopped kissing us and stepped back to look around again, I looked at Marco. He kissed me and we both bent down on one knee.
“Harry.”
We both called her name at once. She turned and saw us. Her immediate reaction was to bite that bottom lip, then her eyes widened as we each held out a hand. She came forward and took each.
Marco cleared his throat.
“Harry, we love you. We love you more than life itself.”
My voice stuttered a little and sounded gravelly to my ears as I took up the question.
“Harry, will you do us the honour of marrying us? I know you can only legally marry one of us but as far as we’re concerned it’s us both.”
She looked at us both with so much love on her face. More tears were falling as she nodded then croaked.
“Yes. Yes, I love you both so much. Yes!”
We both jumped up and had this crazy three-way bear hug and kissed. Marco laughed and said, “We’d planned to do this whole romantic thing, but well I guess the time was right.”
“Romantic? What could be more romantic than giving me this wonderful gallery and your love? There’s nothing in this world I could ever want more than I want you both.”
“Bryan and I have talked about this. We both think you should marry him. He’s the oldest.”
“I don’t care who I marry as long as I am married to you both in our lives.”
Marco punched me in the shoulder.
“The ring. Bet you didn’t bring the ring.”
“Why the hell would I bring the ring? We hadn’t intended to do this tonight.”
“Oh yeah, forgot, sorry.”
“Now she knows.”
Harry quipped, “Ah, she’s listening.”
We all laughed.
“Come on!” Marco said. We took her hands and dragged her back outside, locking up the gallery, and then back to the house.
We took her back into the bedroom and made her sit on the bed with her eyes shut. Marco got the ring out of the safe and we both had our fingers crossed that it would fit. He slid it on and we told her to open her eyes.
“Oh man, we made her cry again.”
“It’s okay, Marco, they’re happy tears.” She held out her hand. The ring looked lovely against her skin. “Oh my god. It’s beautiful!”
Marco and I shared a grin of relief. We’d spent hours choosing it. In the end, we settled on a ring with three large diamonds. They were princess cut on a plain fourteen-carat white gold band.
“We chose three stones to represent the three of us. You are in the centre and we will always be beside you.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was Rosa’s birthday on Saturday. We had been seeing them regularly. We often had dinner with them, as well as the monthly family get-together, and I was now calling her Mama and Salvatore, Papà. They had welcomed me into the family completely. I loved it. I had missed the love that only parents can give. Vince and Andy had come with us to dinner a few times and both were surprised how accepting Marco’s parents were of their alternative lifestyle.
We hadn’t told Marco’s parents about being engaged, I think the boys wanted it to be part of her birthday surprise. I was still pinching myself. I couldn’t believe it was true, then I’d look at my beautiful ring and grin.
The boys had got the painting framed. I have to admit it looked great and would be perfect in her kitchen. A couple more days and she would have it. Bryan and Marco had gone away to the conference and still wouldn’t be back for another three days.
I was feeling lost. I missed them so much.
To make my loneliness worse, Andy and Vince were on a trip to Europe for their anniversary but they, too, would be returning at the end of the week. This was the longest I had been without my gorgeous builders in the ten months since we had started dating.
There was no more falling love with them. I was well and truly in deep. They were my every waking thought. I couldn’t have imagined eleven months ago that I would now be so deeply in love with two wonderful men. That I would be getting married to them.
I thought I would continue my packing. Bryan had organised someone to move things from the studio to the new place. I just needed to pack the last few things away. I have to admit I was itching to get to the gallery. Another thing I was having trouble believing. That studio was so much more than I had ever in my wildest dreams imagined.
When the boys had proposed and asked me to move in with them, we decided not to wait too long. It really made sense, especially with the new studio being next door. Anyway, I spent most nights at the house. Once I had agreed, it was just a matter of sorting things out over the next month, deciding what furniture I wanted to keep and what could go.
Once I had finished packing the studio stuff, I decided I would go through the house to try and sort out what could be sold. I still had to pinch myself. I was so lucky to have to wonderful men love me. And for them to build me a wonderful gallery and studio was, well it was breathtaking. In a few more weeks, I would be living with them permanently.
I wandered out to the mailbox before I started sorting. It held the usual junk mail and a large envelope. I walked inside and threw the junk on the counter, tearing open the envelope.
I swear I looked at the contents about five minutes before it sank in what I was seeing. I dropped it to the floor and started hyperventilating.
It was a photograph of me. Taken very recently. The eyes had been torn out and across it was written, “You disrespected me, bitch. I’m going to kill you this time you fucking cunt.”
I was hysterical. What could I do?
I raced to the front door and slammed it shut, then raced through the house checking all the windows. I tried to reach the boys but it went to voice mail. Grabbing the phone, I hit the quick dial for Detective Inspector Grant.
It took about ten minutes before I could get anything sensible out. The patient detective promised he would send a car around.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. It was the police. There were two officers, and I showed them in and gave them the letter.
“Ms. Kempton, I’m sorry this has happened. I honestly thought you would be safe.”
“I thought so, too. It’s been months.” Even to my ears, my voice sounded strained and filled with panic.
“Yes, he’s been out for about eight months now. If this was from him it means he has broken his parole conditions. We can arrest him immediately.”
“Now? You’re going to get him now?”
“Yes, we’ll go there now. We’ll interview him. The letter will be checked against his fingerprints. Don’t worry, Ms. Kempton. We’l
l have him back behind bars.”
They asked me lots of questions and had me sign something. They took the photo and the envelope away, assuring me he would be arrested and back in gaol.
“If there is any problem, rest assured Ms. Kempton we will keep you informed. We’re off to see him immediately.”
I thanked them and saw them out. I tried to relax but it was impossible. The day dragged on. Around three, I got a phone call. It was Marco and Bryan.
“Babe, what’s wrong?”
I started crying, patiently they waited until I could get my sobs under control.
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
“Him, the monster that did this to me.”
“How do you know? What’s happened?”
Through my sobs, I told them about the letter and calling the police.
“Right, we’re coming home.” I could hear Marco in the background talking to someone.
“But your conference? Your lecture?”
“I did my talk yesterday, Marco did his today.” I could hear Marco’s voice in the background. Bryan continued, “Marco’s on the phone now, arranging to change our flight. We’ll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
I couldn’t stop crying.
“Sweetheart, it’ll be okay. We’ll be home tomorrow. The police will have already arrested him. I’d say they would have gone there straight after they left you.”
“Yes, they said they were.”
“Okay, darling. Locked the doors and windows. We’ll ring you once we know what flight we’ve got. Then we’ll ring in the morning and as soon as we land.”
Marco said something to Bryan. I couldn’t make it out.
“Marco’s just told me we’ve got our tickets changed. We’ll be flying out tomorrow at ten. That’s the first flight. Then it’s about an hour from the airport. We’ll be with you by six tomorrow night.”
Marco came on the phone.
“Babe, It’s okay. The police will have him by now. Come on, darling. Don’t cry.”
“Will you really be home tomorrow?”
“Yes, babe, we’ll have you safe in our arms tomorrow night.”
I was so relieved. I felt better knowing they were coming home.
“Thank you.”
“Darling, that’s what partners do. Of course we want to be with you. Just fucking wish we weren’t so far away!”
We spoke for another ten minutes until they knew I was okay. They had a final lecture to attend and Bryan had an appointment about the quoting software.
“Sweetheart.” It was Bryan again. “We’re going to be caught up tonight but listen to me very carefully. You get frightened, you ring, okay? I don’t care what time. If we don’t answer, yell. I promise we will ring you back if we don’t answer.”
“Okay. I’ll be okay. It was just so scary. I panicked.”
“Oh my love, you had every right to panic. I’m just so upset we’re not with you.”
“Will you text me when you get on the plane so I know it’s on time?”
“Promise. I love you, Harry.”
I heard Marco call down the phone. “Babe, love you, love you forever.”
I smiled and felt much better.
“I love you both so much. Go back to your work. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Take care. Have a long bath and sleep tight. We’ll be back with you before you know it.”
“Night.”
A double chorus of goodnights came down the phone as I hung up. There had been nothing further from the police so I guessed they had arrested him. I didn’t feel like eating but I decided to take the boys’ advice and soak in a bath.
An hour later, I felt much better. The bath had made me relax and I thought I would go to bed. Much as I hate them, I took a sleeping pill and went to bed. I knew otherwise I would spend the night tossing and turning. The psychiatrist I had been seeing years ago had prescribed them for me, but I rarely took them.
When I got up the next morning, I felt much better. Amazing what a good night’s sleep can do. I was confident that the police would have him in custody. My men would be home soon.
To keep busy until they arrived, I decided I would check the last box of things and then everything would be ready for the studio move. I thought about having breakfast but the idea of it made me feel nauseous. I’d been feeling off lately, maybe I was coming down with something. Even the idea of a coffee wasn’t appealing. Maybe I would make a cup of herbal tea later.
I got a text message from Marco to say they had just boarded the plane and the flight was on time. I gave a sigh of relief, then went back to the packing.
About four in the afternoon, I had a shower. I was starting to feel better and looking forward to seeing them. The boys should be back around six. I made another cup of herbal tea and realised I hadn’t eaten all day. I grabbed a couple of biscuits. When they got home we could get some takeout for us all.
I kept one eye on the clock. Funny how slow time goes when you watch a clock. Still soon it was after five-thirty. There had been another text message from the boys when they landed, they were ahead of time.
I figured they would be here in the next ten minutes or so. I picked up my phone, I decided I would send them a message to ask if they could grab something for us all to eat on the way back. Save going back out.
As I was about to write it, the doorbell went. They must have got green lights all the way back. I almost ran to the door and tore it open, a big grin on my face.
Chapter Fourteen
I just stood and stared, frozen to the spot.
“Hello, cunt!”
He slammed the door open all the way, and pushed inside, grabbing me as he went past. I screamed. He slapped my face and shoved me. I lost my footing and fell. As I went to stand, I realised I still had the phone in my hand.
Every number I used regularly was on speed dial and in the number one spot was the police, force of habit. Quickly I hit ‘1’ and pushed the phone into the kitchen as he dragged me along the hallway. I prayed he wouldn’t see it as I started screaming louder and louder.
“Shut your fucking face, bitch! I spent twelve fucking years in prison because of you. It’s taken me the last eight months to find you, now you’re mine!”
“Help!” I screamed. “He’s going to kill me, help!”
“You’re fucking right!” he shouted as he dragged me to my feet, his face just inches away from mine. “You’re dead!” he screamed. “You disrespected me, treated me bad, now I’m back to finish the job I started twelve fucking years ago.”
I kept calling for help, praying the police would trace the number and come soon.
“Shut the fuck up!”
He slammed me against the wall and punched me in the face. The room spun for a minute. I grabbed hold of him to stop myself from falling.
“Why? Harriet, why? I treated you good. Why wouldn’t you see me? Why did you think you could dump me and then have me fucking arrested?”
“You tried to kill me!”
I screamed at the top of my voice. He threw me across the room and I landed with a heavy thud against the kitchen counter. I lay curled up as he walked toward me and then started to kick me.
I screamed loud and long as his foot pounded into me. I was sure I felt a rib snap. I tried to wrap my arms around myself and make myself as small a target as possible. He grabbed my hair and pulled me upright. With the back of his hand, he slapped me across the face a few times. I felt my lip split, blood pouring from it and my nose.
I was sobbing and screaming, pleading with him to leave me alone. He dragged me along the bench to where I had my knives in a wooden block. I shrieked at the top of my voice at him.
“No! No!”
I looked in terror as he pulled out the big carving knife and held it in front of my face. I was sobbing and screaming senselessly. He ran the flat of the blade down one side of my face, then held it under my chin.
“Goodbye, Harriet. You were wrong to
dump me. No one gets away with treating me bad.” The knife slid down my neck and onto my shoulder. “Fucking cunt!”
He turned the blade and sliced into my shoulder and down my arm.
I screamed with agony and in dread, almost delirious with pain. I broke out in a cold sweat of fear.
This was the end. My life had turned out so wonderful, and now I wouldn’t never get to live with my men, never feel their arms around me again.
“That’s right, bitch! Scream!”
Spittle sprayed my face as he shouted. Once more, he threw me. I landed awkwardly as he advanced toward me. I tried to crawl backward. He lashed out with his foot again. I looked up at him. He had the knife raised. I tried to kick him with my foot but he slashed at my leg with the knife. It burnt as it sliced through my thigh. The knife went up again.
The room was spinning. I knew I was about to pass out and that would be the end of it all.
“Harry!”
Suddenly he was knocked off his feet. I swore I saw Bryan wrestling him. Marco grabbed me and was trying to carrying me out of the way, as Bryan tried to wrestle the knife away. I screamed again and again. He hit Bryan with the back of the knife and Bryan fell down unconscious, blood pouring from his head. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive.
The monster turned, knife in hand. The last thing I remember was Marco holding me tight as everything went black.
* * * *
We made it to Harry’s in record time. As we pulled into the driveway, we heard it. A horrid scream that echoed across the yard, then another and another. I could hear sirens in the distance as Marco and I raced toward the door. It was wide open.
Never in my life will I forget the scene.
A man was standing over Harry, a knife held above his head, ready to plunge downward. I reacted without thinking and tackled him, praying he would drop the knife and that it wouldn’t fall on Harry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco rush to Harry and scoop her up as we wrestled.
Build a Love (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 12
