Brooke and Peter
(Cathedral Hills, Book 3)
Morris Fenris
Changing Culture Publications
Brooke and Peter
(Cathedral Hills, Book 3)
Copyright 2015 Morris Fenris, Changing Culture Publications
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Thank You
About the Author
Booklist
Chapter 1
New York City, two weeks earlier
Brooke Jameson hung up the phone, dropped her head into her hands, and gave way to the tears she’d been holding back. Zachary had left over an hour earlier, and he had forgotten to unplug the phone and take it with him. It was the first time in weeks that had happened, and she’d known this might be her only chance at letting someone know she needed help.
She’d thought about calling the authorities, but Zachary worked for the District Attorney’s office, and she knew he was considered the up and coming golden boy. Who would believe her story? She couldn’t even believe it and she was living it!To make matters worse, she knew she’d done this to herself. Oh, maybe not her current predicament, but her actions in the previous months and years had made her current situation possible!
Brooke had come to New York two years ago, thinking she’d finally caught her big break. She’d gone to an open audition while still in high school, and a few weeks later had received a modeling contract and plane tickets to California. She has gotten on the plane a little over six years ago, just out of high school, with stars in her eyes and a smile upon her beautiful face. Those first four years, her life had been fast paced and so different from Cathedral Hills that she had readily embraced all it had to offer. The good and the bad.
As her modeling career had taken off, she’d found herself having more and more trouble relaxing and getting enough sleep. Her schedule had been crazy, and the more successful she became, the worse it got. When her manager had suggested that she see his physician, she’d agreed. The doctor had prescribed her a low dose sleeping pill, which she had reluctantly agreed to take. Months later, she was unable to sleep without their aid.
And then two years ago, it looked like things had changed for the better. Her California agent had introduced her to an agent who worked exclusively with magazines published in South America. The pay was fantastic, and she’d been assured that this was the next step in cementing her worldwide modeling career. She’d flown to New York City for a photo shoot, and left feeling extremely optimistic about her chances of being chosen. The fact that the garments she’d been asked to wear were more revealing than she usually was comfortable with was swept aside by the promise of fame and fortune.
When she’d landed an exclusive modeling contract with that same agency a few weeks later, she’d wasted no time in closing up shop in California and moving to New York City. She had been so excited! The job had included travel to all sorts of exotic places, and she had been so caught up in the adoration she’d been receiving, she hadn’t realized the peril she’d been in.
Her California agent had been instrumental in helping her secure the job, and when he’d suggested that she continue taking the sleeping pills through the transition, she’d readily agreed. She hadn’t wanted to do anything that might jeopardize her ability to meet the terms of her contract.
The stress of travelling had been overwhelming, and a few weeks into her first trip abroad, she’d been given what she thought were muscle relaxers by one of the photography assistants. They seemed to have worked, and life went on. She modeled very risqué evening gowns while draped over expensive sports cars, and became a much sought after arm ornament for the rich playboys of the world. Her agent took care of all the details, and she simply went along with everything while her bank balance continued to grow.
Slowly, the outfits she’d been asked to model had become more risqué, and soon she was modeling swimsuits and lingerie exclusively. She rarely saw the finished photos, trusting her New York agent when he told her they were fabulous. That had been a major mistake.
A little over a year into her new contract, she had been contacted about her mother’s Alzheimer’s. She’d been planning a trip home to see what help she might offer, and she knew that her parents would be interested in seeing some of her recent photos. She’d gone by the agent’s office intending to ask for copies of some of the more tame photos, but he hadn’t been there. While looking through a pile of papers lying on his desk, she had stumbled across one of the magazines lying on her agent’s desk.
That had been five months earlier, and she was still embarrassed and appalled at what she’d seen that day. She’d ignored her facial expressions, focusing instead on the bare skin that was so alluringly revealed. She was kneeling in the sand with the ocean waves behind her, and she hadn’t realized that the swimsuit left almost nothing to the imagination! The photographer had done an excellent job of making her look like one of the swimsuit models that graces the more popular sports magazines each year. Unfortunately, the pictures made her feel dirty and embarrassed.
She’d rifled through his desk some more and found other such magazines, all of which she played an integral part in. When she stumbled across a small flyer with her picture on it, she almost fainted. The writing was in Spanish, but she was able to pick out enough to realize the paper was an advertisement for her escort services! More pictures of herself in skimpy outfits were found, and she knew she should have paid closer attention to what was going on with her career.Her agent had turned her from a model into a highly paid escort!
She’d waited for her agent, Marco Pellinni, to show up and then accused him of tricking her into modeling for a porn magazine and turning her into an escort! The other photos in the magazines had been of the same caliber, with many of them showing girls completely undressed, with only the bare essentials covered. And nowhere had she seen anything actually selling the swimsuit or other clothing items she was wearing. Instead, there had been multiple ads for call girls and mail-order brides! Even a few 1-900 numbers advertising beautiful women waiting to talk to you for only a few dollars a minute!
She’d waved the escort flyer in front of his face, and demanded to know if all of her recent high-profile dates had merely been business transactions! Marco hadn’t even had the good grace to deny her accusations or defend himself. He’d simply told her she needed to calm down. She’d been paid very well for being seen with those men, and she needed to look at the bigger picture.
Brooke had been furious to hav
e been used in such a way, and refused to do any more photo shoots for him or the magazine. She also refused to go on any more high-profile dates. When Marco had threatened her, she’d flown home a few days earlier than planned. Memories of that visit filled her with guilt, as she remembered having been emotionally distant from everyone. Even her ailing mother!
Unfortunately, distance hadn’t stopped Marco’s attempts to get her back in the fold. He’d repeatedly called her cellphone, at all times of the day and night. When she returned to New York, she’d immediately changed her number. When he’d begun having men come to her apartment at all hours of the night, threatening her if she didn’t honor the contract, she went to the District Attorney’s office to file a complaint. Her thought had been that whatever was going on was more than likely illegal, and since her picture was all over the magazines and escort flyers, she wanted legal protection when the authorities finally acted. It had only taken her a few days after returning to New York City to reach that point. Marco was destroying her sanity, and she admitted to herself that she was actually afraid for her life!
She’d met Zachary Grayson there, and he’d simply swept her off her feet. He’d promised her the full protection of the law, and had even offered to speak with Marco directly. Almost immediately, the threatening phone calls and nightly visits had ceased. Brooke had been so relieved; she’d not even questioned what kind of legal action was being taken against Marco and his other business associates. Lack of sleep, days of fear and worry, had taken their toll on her emotionally and physically.
Zachary had told her very little after questioning her that first day, and since she’d never been involved in any sort of legal action before, she didn’t question anything he told her. The only piece of information she’d ferreted out was that Marco and her agent in California had been working together
Zachary had been her knight in shining armor. He’d been attentive, always complimenting her, and three weeks later when he’d asked her to move in with him, she had done so without a second thought. Zachary had taken over her life and she hadn’t even put up a token protest. He’d seemed so attentive and caring, keeping her from unwanted media attention, protecting her privacy and even having his own physician and trainer come to the penthouse so she didn’t have to worry about being seen in the city.
She’d been very fearful in the first few weeks after seeing those magazines, but Zachary had assured her they were only published and distributed in South America, and so she had no worries about someone in the city recognizing her. She hadn’t realized that Zachary was part of the problem, and several weeks later, she had signed her name to the bottom of a marriage license in a judge’s office.
She rubbed her temple, the ache becoming more pronounced with her tears. She hadn’t realized anything was truly wrong until a few weeks ago when Zachary had gone out of town unexpectedly. He’d never wanted her to work after they got married, telling her that he preferred that she keep a low profile until the court case against her former agents were finished up. When she’d asked about the time frame for that to occur, Zachary had been less than encouraging, saying that similar cases had taken years to come to judgment.
Brooke had been relieved and initially enjoyed the small vacation, but soon she found herself becoming bored and restless. Zachary had demanded that she speak with a counselor, who had prescribed her some anxiety pills to help her as she dealt with the aftermath of having been used so callously for profit.
As days and then weeks went by, Brooke found herself becoming more and more afraid to leave the apartment without Zachary by her side. She’d started having nightmares, for which yet more pills had been prescribed. It seemed to be a vicious cycle, and Zachary easily took over running her life.
She was still in high demand as a model, but Zachary had taken over the role of her agent as well, and she only did exclusive photo shoots now. Zachary took care of everything from the shopping, to arranging for beauticians to visit the apartment so she didn’t have to sully her feet on the streets of New York City, to managing her financial portfolio for her.
She had placed all of her furniture, unneeded belongings, and her newly purchased Mustang in storage the week she’d moved in with him, not knowing how long those living arrangements would last. By the time she’d said “I do,” she’d all but forgotten her former life, and Zachary seemed content to leave it forgotten. She’d paid the storage fees a year ahead, not wanting to mess with a monthly payment, and in her altered mental state, had all but erased her former possessions from her mind.
Slowly, he’d encouraged her to stop communicating with those back home who cared for her. You don’t want them to know what you got mixed up in, do you? What would your parents or brother say if they ever saw those photographs?It’s better to just distance yourself until everything is settled in the courts. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep the evidence pictures from the media.
Brooke had let her guilt escalate until she was happy to stay in the penthouse and do nothing but watch television most of the day. Zachary had installed some exercise equipment in a spare room for her use, and even gotten her some special vitamins to help keep her in tip top shape.
Everything had seemed to be going fine, until Zachary had gone out of town unexpectedly. He hadn’t known that she was out of her special vitamins, and she’d chosen not to say anything to him because she didn’t want to inconvenience him. She’d foolishly thought they were only vitamins and once he returned to town, he could get them replaced for her.
She’d been so wrong! Over the next two days, she’d experienced stomach cramps, massive headaches, chills, and hallucinations that eventually had her attempting to reach someone outside the apartment. Her skin had felt like it was covered with insects, and she’d been unable to put a coherent thought together. She was sure she’d been poisoned by something she ate, and after suffering for more than a day, she knew she needed to find some help.
It hadn’t occurred to her until that day that there were no phones in the apartment. Zachary almost always used a cell phone, and the landline phone he used was a special coded phone he used for business matters. He’d explained to her that it had some special software installed that prevented the calls from being traced and in his line of work for the DA’s office, he often used the phone even in his downtown office.
Whenever he plugged it in at home, he always made to then unplug it and tuck it away inside his briefcase when he left for the day. Her cell phone and laptop computer were somewhere in the apartment, since she’d arrived with them, but she hadn’t seen them in weeks. Or was it months? She’d lost all track of time, and though she made a cursory look through the apartment, they were nowhere to be found.
Thinking to seek help from the porter at the front entrance to the apartment building, she’d found enough strength to dress herself, but when she’d tried to open the door to the penthouse, she’d found it locked. From the outside. She’d become even more frightened when she realized she was stuck in the apartment until Zachary saw fit to come home. She’d panicked, falling headlong into a panic attack of major proportions.
Zachary had come home the next day to find her sick, irrational, and irate. She’d demanded he take her to a hotel, throwing whatever was in reach at him, but her weakened state only allowed her a few moments to rage at him before her strength gave out. She’d collapsed on the floor of the apartment, her stomach heaving as chills raced up and down her spine. Things might have gone better if he’d apologized, or at least seemed somewhat upset at having trapped her inside their apartment, but that hadn’t been his reaction.
Zachary’s response had been to call a family friend who was a doctor and have her medicated. She’d overheard him telling the doctor that she had an addiction problem to prescription narcotics, and suddenly everything she’d experienced the previous forty-eight hours made sense. She’d been suffering from withdrawals! Zachary had been drugging her, and she’d been helping him!
She’d recovered
with Zachary keeping a close watch on her, and she’d become much more suspicious of his behavior from there on out. She’d tried her best to present the same easy going, complacent personality she knew he’d come to expect, taking special note of everything Zachary gave her. Zachary had been none the wiser, and she had been patiently waiting for him to slip up and give her a way out.
She’d even lulled him into a false sense of security by pretending to careless about her friends and family back in Colorado. Since meeting him, Zachary had always insisted she send a basic email to let her family know she was okay to keep them from worrying.
When she’d announced she no longer felt the need to do that anymore, in hopes someone would have become alarmed and started looking for her, Zachary had told her with a smile that he would be happy to send out a basic email to let everyone know she was doing okay.
Brooke had smiled and continued pretending to be the doped up wife he took out occasionally to show off. She had been secretly planning to escape the next time he took her someplace, but since her incident with the doctor, she hadn’t left the apartment once. The toll of pretending nothing had changed was becoming harder to bear, and when she’d awakened to see the phone still plugged in, she been ecstatic.
She’d wasted no time in calling her brother’s house. She didn’t have a clue as to what she was going to say, but surely Tyler would be able to help her. Somebody needed to help her! The call had not gone as planned.
Peter had been at the house! Her heart hurt as she remembered the smiling eyes of the only boy who’d ever owned her heart. He’d been planning to marry her, until she’d been invited to California. He’d stepped aside, allowing her to pursue her dreams, and now she realized she’d thrown away her only chance for true happiness. God, I’ve been such a fool! Help me get out of this mess!
She laughed at herself when she realized the direction her thoughts had gone. It had been a long time since she’d asked God for something, or even just paused to check in with Him. And you expect Him to help you now? Good luck with that, sweetie!
Romance: Brooke and Peter - A Christian Romance as a Love Story: (Romance, Christian Romance, Romance Novel, Romance Book) (Cathedral Hills Book 3) Page 1
