by M. L. Ray
Peter thanked the man again, and then took his suitcase and joined Brooke where she stood at the security gate. “Do you have a key to get in here?”
“Don’t need one. It’s coded with a personal security code I gave them when I put my stuff in here. I was afraid I would lose a key.”
“Why do you still have stuff in storage if you’ve been married for over four months?” Peter wanted to know.
Brooke looked at him, but didn’t answer. Instead, she opened the gate, and then waited while he followed her inside before shutting it with a load bang of metal on metal. She walked through the rows of storage units until she came to the one she wanted. She carefully entered a code into the keypad and then smiled when a green light blinked. The walk-through door unlocked and she turned the handle, “Wait for a just minute. There’s a light inside if I can just find the switch.”
Seconds later, the inside of the storage unit lit up, and he was surprised to see a cherry red Mustang sitting in the middle of the unit, surrounded by shelving, boxes, and covered furniture. She lovingly ran a hand over the hood of the car, and felt the same sense of excitement she’d had the first time she’d driven the vehicle.
She’d received a huge bonus from Marco, and purchased the vehicle only days before seeing the magazines lying on his desk. Things had moved so quickly thereafter, she’d taken the easy way out and stuck everything in storage. Now, she was taking the first step towards reclaiming her life!
“Wow! That’s some car,” Peter whistled, walking around the Mustang and admiring the black leather interior and soft top.
“Thanks,” she told him, although she’d already decided that once she was someplace safe, the car would have to go. Knowing where the money in her bonus had come from, she didn’t think she could stomach owning the car for very long. Right now, it was simply a means to an end.
“Let me grab some clothes, and we’ll be ready to go.”
“Where exactly are we headed?” Peter asked, watching as she rummaged through a few boxes and began pulling out clothing and shoes.
Brooke shook her head, “I really don’t know. Someplace away from New York. Actually, probably away from the East Coast. Zachary seems to know everyone, and I need someplace to think and figure out what my next move is.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Peter asked.
“Sure? I don’t know if I’ll answer it, but you can ask.”
“Why did you marry him?” Peter queried, really wanting to know what had possessed her to do something so out of character.
Brooke looked at him and then sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know that I truly had any say or choice in the matter.” She grabbed a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a few other articles of clothing before ducking behind a stack of tall boxes. “I do know that I don’t want to be married to him any longer.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. You’ve only been married four months, according to the paperwork Michelle found.”
“I know,” she said, her voice muffled behind the t-shirt she was in the process of pulling over her head. She finished dressing, and then draped the skimpy dress she’d been wearing over a nearby shelf. She didn’t care if she ever saw it again, or anything like it. Her days of being a high-fashion and swimsuit model were over!
“I know you have a bunch of questions, but Zachary is probably already looking for me and I need to get on the road.”
“But you just said you wanted to get unmarried,” he reminded her.
“I do. What does that have to do with me leaving New York?”
“Brooke, I may not be a lawyer, but even I know you usually have to file for divorce in the same state where you got married to begin with.”
Brooke looked at him and then shook her head dejectedly, “So what you’re saying is I need to stick around for another night, and file some paperwork before I can leave town?”
“I think so. If we can get someplace where there’s a Wi-Fi connection, I can do some research on the subject, but I think you’ll need to file the paperwork here.” He didn’t include that there was probably a waiting period she’d have to endure as well. He didn’t think she could handle any bad news right now.
And if Zachary finds me in the meantime…. “Fine. We can get a hotel room on the other side of town, and then in the morning I’ll file the correct paperwork and we can leave.”
“Fine. Finish up in here while I make a phone call.”
“To Tyler?” she asked, her eyes searching his own.
He nodded, “I won’t give him any details, but I need to let him know I found you, and that we’re leaving New York.”
Brooke watched him step outside and softly murmured, “I wish I could go home.”
Peter heard her soft wish, and decided right then and there that Colorado was going to be their destination. He didn’t know what she’d gotten herself mixed up in, but he would do everything he could to help her get her life back together. He cared too much for her to do otherwise.
Chapter 44
Peter glanced at his watch, and then shook his head as he waited for the call to connect. It was almost 2 a.m. in New York, which meant it was almost midnight back in Colorado. He hated calling so late, but not knowing what the next few hours would bring, he wanted to at least leave a message on Tyler’s cell phone that Brooke was with him.
“Hello? Dad?” Tyler asked anxiously into the phone.
“Tyler, It’s Peter.”
“Peter. Man what’s up? Do you know what time it is here?” Tyler looked around the room as Trey turned the overhead lights on, and both women were now wide awake and listening in. Earlier that evening, both Trey and Tyler had asked the women in their lives to marry them. The annual Harvest Party had been in full swing, but the two couples had left before it ended, heading back to Trey’s house to watch a movie and snack on s’mores.
Seeing that everyone was waiting to hear what had prompted such a late call, he told Peter, “I’m going to put you on speaker phone. I here with Trey, Michelle, and Jenna.”
“Uh…okay. That’s fine. And yeah, I know what time it is. It’s almost 2 a.m. here.”
“What’s going on? I’ve tried to call you several times. It keeps going to your voicemail.”
“Sorry about that. You wouldn’t believe the mess I walked into down here. I don’t have time to go into all the details, but suffice it to say that your sister managed to land herself in a huge mess.”
“Is she okay?” Tyler asked, rubbing a hand through his hair in his agitation.
“She will be. I’m going to take care of some paperwork on her behalf tomorrow morning and then I’m bringing her home. We’re going to drive…”
“Drive? But didn’t you fly out there?” Tyler asked.
“Yes, and I’ll explain everything when we get back to Colorado. We’re bringing your sister’s car and I figure it will take us three or four days, depending on how long I can drive each day.”
“Peter, just answer one question for me. Is Brooke okay?”
There was a pause and then Peter said, “She’s not right now, but she will be. I don’t have time to go into any more details right now, but if you want to do something helpful. Pray for her.” Peter didn’t tell her brother that he couldn’t go into the details because she hadn’t shared them with him yet.
“She needs all the divine intervention she can get right now.” Hearing the roll up storage door going up, he realized she was ready to get going. “Man…sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. I’ll call from the road when I can.”
Peter disconnected the call and waited while Brooke drove the car out. She left it idling in the alleyway between the rows of storage units. He helped her stash a duffel bag and his suitcase in the trunk, and then he gestured for her to get into the passenger seat.
“I can drive,” she argued with him.
“Brooke, you’re not feeling well, and by your own admission, you’re not completely sober. Whatever is making you ill is still in your system, and I
’m not judging here, but I don’t think you should be driving. It’s also 2 o’clock in the morning.”
She hid a yawn behind her hand and nodded her head, “Yeah, I know. Fine. I’ll give you directions, and you can drive.”
Peter held her door open for her, and noticed that she smelled like Brooke again. Ever since she’d entered middle school, she’d worn the same fragrance – a mixture of jasmine and spice. He’d come to associate the smell with her, but he hadn’t noticed it on her in the nightclub, or in the taxi.
“Did you put on some perfume?” he asked, before starting to shut her door.
She looked up and blushed, “Yeah. Zachary didn’t like me wearing perfume, but I found mine in my stuff in there and grabbed it. Too strong?”
Peter hated the note of uncertainty in her voice and shook his head, “No, it’s you. Don’t ever apologize for being you.” He shut her door, and then walked slowly to the rear of the car. Someone had stolen her confidence, and he really wanted to teach that person a few manners!
*****
Forty-five minutes later, Peter steered the red Mustang into the parking lot of a dilapidated motel in a part of New York City that he was sure wasn’t safe or advisable. “Brooke, we’re not staying here.”
Brooke looked around at her surroundings, and nodded her head, “Zachary would never think to look for me in a place like this. If we stay at one of the nicer hotels, not only am I liable to be recognized, but you said yourself you were running low on cash.”
“I can afford a better room than this dive. And an ATM will fix the low cash situation in a flash.”
Brooke sighed and then slowly nodded her head, “Fine – I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back…”
“I don’t want to hear another word about money. Now, tell me how to get us back to a better part of town.”
Brooke gave him directions and then grew silent, staring out the window as she thought about her future. She knew she’d signed over control of most of her money and finances to Zachary after he’d convinced her that she didn’t need the stress of dealing with those types of things. He’d promised to let his financial investment guru work on increasing her portfolio, and she’d let him.
She also knew that going to the authorities with her story would most likely get her a seventy-two hour hold in a local psych ward. Zachary already had at least one doctor in his pocket who would testify to seeing her in the throes of drug withdrawal. It would be her word against his that she hadn’t been procuring the meds herself. And her former agent would only seal the case against her if he told about her using sleeping pills frequently.
Peter turned on the radio, and after switching through the channels, he finally came to a contemporary Christian station. Brooke listened to the lyrics of the song on the radio and felt like crying. The singer was talking about God’s unfailing and unconditional love and wondering how it was possible that even after the mess that had been made of their life, that God could love them. Is that really true, God? It’s been so long since I talked to you. I don’t even love myself! How can you love me?
“You okay over there?” Peter asked, sensing that Brooke was struggling to contain her emotions.
“Not really. I’ve completely messed up my life and frankly, I don’t really see any way out.”
Peter reached over and placed a calming hand on her arm, “There’s always a way out. Always. We’ll find it.”
“I can’t expect you to just put your life on hold for me…”
“Brooke, I think it’s only fair to tell you that I never stopped waiting for you to come home. I know a lot of things have happened since you left Colorado right after high school, but I still believe you’re the girl for me.”
Brooke said nothing for several long moments. She’d messed up her life royally, and she truly didn’t feel worthy of anyone’s love, especially this wonderful man sitting next to her. He didn’t deserve to get the ruined shell of a woman she’d allowed herself to become. He deserved a woman who was whole, and not so messed up that she needed pills to get through the day!
“So, what have you been up to lately?” she asked, needing to change the subject, but her mind wasn’t quite so cooperative. Peter still wants me? But he doesn’t know all of the things I’ve done. Once he does, he’ll be sorry he came all this way.
“I’ve been helping out with your parents’ ranch.” He paused and gave her time to ask about her mom’s condition. When she didn’t, he offered, “Your dad moved her down to Junction. He found a place there that caters to patients with Alzheimer’s. From what Tyler said, their meals are prepared, laundry and housekeeping is furnished, and your dad had medical advice and assistance whenever he needs it.”
Brooke still said nothing, so he pushed a little, “When was the last time you spoke to your parents?”
“Not since I left Colorado last time. Things here got so messed up and…”
Peter saw several signs for motels up ahead, and chose one in the middle of not being a complete dive, or a plush resort. “Why don’t you stay in the car while I get us a room?”
Brooke nodded her head, and watched as he pulled under the eave and ran inside. Within a few minutes, he returned with a room key in his hand. Without saying a word, he pulled the Mustang around to the back of the motel, hiding it from easy view of the road, and turned the engine off.
Brooke was having trouble keeping her eyes open as more shivers wracked her body. She’d grabbed her spare cosmetic bag from the storage unit, and was hoping there was something in there she could use to take the edge off. Even if just for a few hours!
Peter insisted on carrying both of their bags, and she let him. As soon as they entered the room, she grabbed her duffel bag and headed for the small bathroom. She turned the shower on and stood beneath the scalding water as long as she could before getting out and drying off. She felt marginally better and she opened the bathroom door to let the steam out, having only wrapped herself in a towel.
When she stepped out into the room, she stopped at the look on Peter’s face. Gosh, I’ve become so used to having no modesty, I didn’t even realize what I was doing. Apologizing, she ducked back into the bathroom, and pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of knit shorts.
Peter had stared at her when she exited the bathroom, unsure of how to respond to her towel-clad body. On one hand, he knew she wasn’t operating on all cylinders. And he’d really seen no more of her body than if she’d been in a two-piece swimsuit. What had really captured his attention was the blush and embarrassment that had consumed her when she realized what she’d done. It was as if she was ashamed of herself, and that didn’t sit right with him.
Brooke was a stunning beauty. She had raven black hair, deep grey-blue eyes that changed with her emotions, and a complexion that had at one time graced the cover of several well-known magazines. She was tall for a woman, reaching 5’10” in her bare feet, with a lithe body that had never shown a predilection for carrying excess weight.
She’d always been a beauty, but had also always been humble and not wanting extra attention. When she’d been offered a modeling contract, Peter had been surprised at first that she wanted to take it. But he’d also not wanted to stand in her way, so he’d stepped aside; assuring her he’d be waiting in Cathedral Hills when she came home. The problem was – she had never come home!
He glanced up as she came back into the room, towel drying her hair and muttering an apology.
“What exactly are you apologizing for?” he queried.
“I didn’t mean to come out her almost naked. I really didn’t, it’s just…I guess I’m so used to not wearing much, it didn’t really dawn on me to get dressed before coming out here.”
“Explain that last statement,” Peter requested.
“Well, for the last several months, four to be exact, I really haven’t left the apartment except if I was with Zachary. Sometimes for a photoshoot, and other times for an evening out like tonight. Or rather, last night.”
> “Why did you never leave the apartment?” Peter asked.
Brooke sighed and then told him, “Peter’s it’s a really long story that goes all the way back to my time in California. Can we get into this tomorrow?”
Peter wanted to demand answers to his questions tonight, but he could see that she was exhausted and still ill. “Sure. You can take the bed closest to the bathroom. I’ll wash up and be out in a minute.”
Brooke nodded and grabbed her duffle bag, tossing it to the middle of the bed before crawling up and sitting beside it. “Okay.”
Peter emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, having brushed his teeth and washed up a bit, to see Brooke struggling to get the lid off a prescription bottle. “What are you doing?”
Brooke jumped and then shoved the bottle back into the small cosmetic bag in front of her, “Nothing.”
Peter shook his head and stalked to her bed. He pulled the cosmetic bag away from her, holding it out of reach when she made a grab for it. “Let’s get something straight, right now. I’m going to help you, and that includes helping you from hurting yourself any further.” He dumped the contents of the bag out on to the comforter, sending makeup and other items scattering off the bed and onto the floor.
When the prescription bottle emerged, he grabbed it up and read the label. “Sleeping pills? That’s what these are?”
Brooke nodded, keeping her eye on the bottle of pills, “Please give them back to me.”
“Are you addicted to them?”
Brooke debated about lying to him, but she couldn’t do it. Peter only wanted what was best for her, and the good Lord knew she hadn’t been doing such a bang up job at that task herself. She swallowed and then softly answered him, “I used to be, but I don’t think I am anymore. They’ll take the edge off and let me get a few hours of sleep.”
Peter watched her eyes and could see how desperately she was trying to tell him the truth, but yet wanting to hide it from him at the same time. “Brooke, you said you were suffering withdrawal symptoms. If not from these, then what?”
