“Just where the fuck were you? I waited up for you all night!” She balled her fists and planted them on her hips.
Brad put Trevor down. He could feel him tense as he started swaying and rocking back and forth, from one foot to the other. The squeaks were becoming more pronounced lately, to an “eek, eek” and “click, click” with his tongue. “Okay, Trevor, let’s get you changed.” Brad bent down, picked Trevor up and put him on his shoulders. He stepped around Crystal like she was a cowpie in the fields.
She dogged his heels like one of those irritating little Chihuahuas that don’t know how to shut up. “You were with her, weren’t you? That slut.” The accusation was laced with so much venom that Brad needed to restrain himself from turning and hitting her. Trevor reminded him by tugging his hair.
She bumped into him at the door, practically stepping on his foot. He turned around so fast he almost knocked her over with the force of his words: “Get the fuck away from me—you’re scaring Trevor. I’ll talk to you after I get him settled.”
Smart lady, she didn’t follow.
Brad plopped Trevor in front of the TV and put a Walt Disney movie in. When he turned around, he saw her standing there, just inside the door, impatiently tapping the toe of her designer boot. Brad moved at a speed that had Crystal’s mouth hanging open. He grabbed her and dragged her with him into the kitchen, releasing her with such force she almost fell against the table.
He crossed his arms and surveyed the kitchen, the dirty dishes stacked in the sink and on the counter. Cliff and Mac had obviously come in to eat. He’d end that now. They had their own kitchen in the house in back. Until things were settled, they were going to have to make their own meals, in their own place.
He dragged his eyes over her, and then dismissed her as he turned away. She planted herself in his face and tossed her long blond mane over her shoulder.
“Just where the hell were you? I demand some answers. As your wife I have a right—” Her face paled and she closed her mouth.
Brad had raised his hands, now shaking; he squeezed his fists as he loomed over her. Maybe she realized just how close he was to strangling her. “You have a right to what?” His words were low, deathly quiet, with a bite so sharp she took another step back. She swallowed and her eyes widened. She should be scared.
Brad stalked to the table, dragged out a chair, and pointed. “Sit down and keep your voice down. I’ll not have you upsetting Trevor anymore.”
She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and acted as if she was the injured party. She glared right back. But the slight tremor on her lower lip betrayed her. She hesitated a second, and then sat.
She gazed up and then flushed. Maybe she realized she’d pushed him too far. Even Brad worried he couldn’t contain the wild animal that sought to break free.
She squirmed. He crossed his arms as his hair prickled the back of his neck with a warning not to turn his back on her. She was clever and spiteful and if he underestimated her, he was positive he would live to regret it.
“I want you to leave.” How’d he get his voice so calm?
An indignant righteous flush stole over her face. She looked away and sat up straighter in her chair, tilting her head in a way that usually had him softening inside. He nearly laughed; blinking in amazement at the lengths this woman would go, at the same time thankful for, his newfound awareness that her tricks no longer had any affect. Maybe she realized it, because he’d swear he could see the wheels turn in that sharp mind of hers.
“No, I will not leave, and you can’t make me.” She studied her fingers, and toyed with the large square diamond ring that he’d spent a small fortune on.
“My lawyer’s filed the necessary papers for divorce. As for Trevor, I’ve requested sole custody and guardianship.” He knew his mistake as soon as she jumped out her chair and clawed at his face.
He brushed her away.
“I will not leave and you’re not getting custody of Trevor. I’m his mother and no court will take him away from me.” She was like a rabid animal that wouldn’t back down.
“You don’t give a crap about Trevor; you spend no time with him. You never have. For God’s sake Crystal, just go. I’ll be generous with my settlement. You’ll want for nothing.”
She shook her head with such steely control. “No, Brad, you’re my husband and she can’t have you.”
So, it wasn’t just the money. The pieces of the puzzle were dropping into place. Hold your cards closer to your chest. She knows things she shouldn’t. But how? He paced the kitchen, turning his back; a cold sweat broke out. When he turned back and glimpsed her smirk, he knew. There was a traitor in this midst. He didn’t know who, or did he? “Trevor will be starting his therapy again as soon as I can arrange it, and you’ll not interfere!” He took a few steps toward her. “My lawyer’s drawn up the paperwork for custody and the order for divorce. If you continue to fight me—you’ll get nothing. I’ve been very generous in my settlement and offer for spousal support. This offer I’m making is one time only, so if I were you, I would do some serious thinking.” Brad needed to leave now. He had work to do, not just at the ranch. But to overturn every rock and find out who the traitor was. He bundled Trevor in his coat, and carried him out the door.
He put Trevor in the truck and drove to where the men were working a downed fence at the west end of the property. He dragged his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number programmed in his phone.
“Hello.” The soft musical voice had always given him hope.
“Hi, Mom, is Dad there? I really need to talk to him.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Monday morning brought sunshine in the warm spring air. Walking into work, she was still wistful from her time with Brad. She must have jumped a mile when her boss, Jake, strode up behind her.
“I need to have a word with you, Emily. Can you come to my office?” His tone was chilly.
It was then that she noticed Suzanne, one of the other workers, behind the till, awkwardly averting her eyes. Emily followed Jake into his office.
“Shut the door, please.”
Her hands trembled and it felt like jumping jacks bounced around in her stomach. She wracked her brain. Did she do something wrong? Jake sat on the other side of the desk, his tightly clasped hands folded in front of him. “I’m going to have to let you go.”
The floor fell out from under her. If he had sucker-punched her, it would have hurt less. A confusing haze spun around her, as she sucked in a deep shaky breath, maybe she didn’t hear him right. She stared into his closed-off eyes. Then he visibly colored as he awkwardly leaned back in his chair, glancing down at his hands before meeting Emily’s gaze. This didn’t make any sense, just last week he’d called her into his office, praising her for what a great job she was doing. He’d even given her a two dollar an hour raise; what could have happened between then and now? She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what she’d done wrong.
“I… I don’t understand,” She somehow managed to get the words out, asking, but feeling gutted; her face flushed with hurt and humiliation.
Jake was now having a hard time looking at her. When he finally did, he gritted his teeth before looking over at her with a sympathetic appeal in his eyes. “I’ll give you a great reference, but I’m in a bind.” He splayed his fingers in front of him. “I had a call from one of my largest accounts and they threatened to pull it unless I let you go. It was some problem they had with you.” He shook his head and raised his defensive voice when Emily tried to appeal. “I’m just a small operation and if they pull it, I won’t be in business anymore.”
Emily was struck dumb as to who would want to do this to her. Leaning forward, furious at the injustice, she was determined to have all her questions answered. “Who was it that wanted me fired?” There was no way she was going anywhere until she found out and personally addressed it. It had to be a misunderstanding.
Looking away, he closed his eyes. “Emily, please. I
don’t want any trouble and I’d rather not say. I don’t want to be dragged into the middle of this.” But his shame was changing into agitation.
“No, dammit it’s not okay. I demand to know. No, I think I have a right to know, and if you won’t tell me; I’ll contact the labor board or a lawyer if I have to, and drag your ass through court for wrongful dismissal.” She knew she’d gone too far with that last one, but she couldn’t hold it back. She was being screwed over.
“Okay you want to know, I’ll tell you, it was Brad Friessen and there’s no way I can afford to piss off a guy like that.” Standing up, Jake was furious as he pointed to the door. “Now, get out.” Trembling with anger, he held out her check and waited impatiently for her to take it. Emily shook as she reached for the check, struggled for breath and tried to still the ringing in her ears. The implication of such a betrayal weighed heavily. How could he? She struggled to hold it together as she walked out past the customers, Suzanne, and, she prayed, no one else she knew. She fought to suppress the tears as she hurried back to her rental house. The whole time her mind swam with images of Brad. The questions, the pain, how this man, in less than forty-eight hours, had gone from making passionate unprotected love to her...to this. It just didn’t make sense.
She cursed everything she could upon him, and then upon all men. She wanted to hate him. Only it didn’t feel right after everything they’d shared. His confession, what Crystal had done. That was not a man who didn’t care. One who would then turn around and try to gut her entire existence. No, the Brad she knew would never have done anything that despicable. Her head was driving her crazy with that voice playing devil’s advocate. He’d let her leave his home, but he’d explained that. Then there were the problems with Crystal, after all, he’d let her stay. But then she was his wife. Even if she disappeared and abandoned her child, she’d no interest in being a mother to Trevor. She dropped her head in her hands as she raged, trying to make sense of what had happened. It was beginning to drive her crazy. He confided in her about why Crystal was still there, and legally his hands were tied. Or, had he just said that for her benefit? She wanted to scream, she was so confused, none of this made any sense as she stormed up the walkway to the small house she rented. Unlocking the door, she went in and closed it tightly behind her. Tossing her purse down on the leather couch, she sank down beside it. The burgundy cloth covering the easy chair was so worn it was beginning to fray along the seams. Slowly scanning the room with her eyes, she noticed the toys were scattered by the green plastic tub. The crayons and coloring book littered the chipped, wooden coffee table.
She leaned back, feeling gutted, her breath shaky. She couldn’t fight the tears and didn’t try. She was a messy crier and let the keening go. “Can things get any worse?” Her thoughts wandered to Katy, and what they were to do. Of course, the severance pay from Brad had been very generous, but Emily needed a job or the remainder of that money would evaporate in short order.
She took a deep breath trying to still the hiccup and crying jag. She grabbed the box of Kleenex and blew her nose. Talking to anyone, they’d know she either had a cold or was crying. She just sat there and listened to the sound of the clock ticking away. Then she knew what she needed to do. Her motions were almost robotic as walked to the door, and then froze when her hand touched the knob. She backed away, strode into the kitchen and grabbed the telephone. Before she allowed herself to think about what she was doing, she dialed the number. It rang just once before it was picked up and answered by that sugary sweet voice. Emily felt her stomach sink. Hang up. She heard it but she didn’t listen. “I would like to speak to Brad, please.”
There was a long pause on the other end, before Crystal coolly asked, “Who’s calling please?”
Bitch, she thought to herself, she knows damn well whose calling. “It’s Emily. I’d like to speak with Brad please, now.”
“My husband’s not available at the moment. He’s downtown picking up our tickets. We’re getting ready to leave on a vacation together. It’s kind of celebration. I’ll tell him you called.”
There it was, another knife in her back. What the hell was he doing? Had he really just slept with her all night, with his son in the next room, and then gone home to her and reconciled? A vacation, are you kidding? She looked at the phone and her heart sank; she couldn’t believe he’d do this to her, again. “Could you ask him to call me—it’s important.” She tried to keep the shake from her voice, but she failed miserably. Before she fell apart completely, she ended the call.
Laying her head down on the counter, she closed her eyes as she was unable to stop the sobs welling up inside. It felt like a vice had suddenly been squeezed around her chest and she allowed the pain to escape. Her knees gave out and she sank to the floor, letting go of everything she’d held together for so long. She cried, praying the pain swelling in her heart, threatening, in that moment, to destroy her, would disappear. All the while cursing herself for being so stupid to allow this man to do this to her, again. As she sat there on the floor, long after her tears had dried up, she felt empty; like she had been pitched headfirst into an emotionless void. And it was then that it hit her, how she’d given herself so freely to him, opening herself up to this man—to Brad, in a way she’d never done before.
Chapter Thirty-Five
His father was Rodney Friessen. He was established, hard-headed and respected. To reach out and call him was, for Brad, admitting he’d been wrong. But, he was—wrong, that is. In the end, he'd swallowed his pride and sought the help he and Trevor needed. It had been a bitter pill to swallow. His Mom had picked up the extension after listening on the sidelines for half an hour. To his daddy’s credit he never once said, “I told you so” or “you should have listened to me.” Instead, he listened, without judgment, and then offered his help and some solid advice for a viable plan to resolve this situation; which meant removing Trevor from this acidic environment. Telling his parents Trevor had autism had been heart wrenching. His mother cried but his father remained silent. Then they both said they would be on the next plane back to Seattle.
Two days later Brad picked up his parents from the floatplane he’d chartered from Seattle. They’d not seen Trevor since he was a baby, so he was unprepared for their welcome.
“Brad, where’s my grandson.” His mom, Becky, was short, gray-haired, plump and flowing with life. She hugged him and then bent down to Trevor who stood hiding behind Brad’s leg. She took his hand and talked to him. She pulled a wrapped present from her handbag, which he grabbed. His “eeks” and squeaks were quiet for the first time, as he unwrapped two hot wheels cars and an Elmo talking book.
“Cool gifts, Mom.” Trevor seemed to think so too, as he sat on the grass and played with the first car he unwrapped.
His father was a tall man with short-cropped gray hair and deeply etched lines on his face. He hovered behind his wife, hesitant, the awkwardness still there. It wasn’t until Brad extended his hand that his father reached out and pulled him into his arms instead. Their conversation was stilted at first, until his daddy pulled him aside to let him know they were prepared to stay as long as it took.
The plan was for Trevor to return with his grandparents, to Baja. He would stay with them until Brad resolved this battle with Crystal.
On the drive back to the ranch, his Mom told him of a lady she hired who had experience with autistic children. From the minute Becky got off the telephone with Brad, she’d researched autism, the therapy Brad told her about and how they could best help Trevor. She was glued to Trevor the entire ride back and insisted on walking the ranch before taking Trevor in.
When Crystal saw his parents arrive, she stumbled on the porch.
Becky cooked dinner. The conversation around the table flowed from the cattle to the dairy contract, and then to Trevor. His father was masterful, charming, when he wanted to be, and ruthless. But it was his Becky who suggested Trevor come and visit. Crystal was hesitant, but his father cornered her with his ch
arisma, leaving her no room to maneuver. Right after dinner, Rodney produced a letter of consent. Brad signed it first, and then passed it to Crystal. He noted her reluctance as she glanced at the phone. But Becky soothed her ruffled feathers and had her sign before she could find an excuse and change her mind.
Brad’s parents left in the morning with the signed consent for customs and their grandson, Trevor.
“You call me as soon as you get things squared. Your Mom’s right on top of what needs to be done for Trevor. So you focus on what you need to do.”
“Thanks again, Daddy. And I’m sorry; I should have listened.”
“It’s done, but you call me if you need help.”
To have that support was like a return to the fold. For the first time, he felt his father had his back.
The fight with Crystal escalated the moment he returned home.
“You railroaded me, you and your parents. I never should have signed that letter.”
Brad smiled as he walked out the door.
* * * *
Brad was finishing a ham and cheese sandwich when Crystal strode in, dropping her leather coat on the chair and dumping her purse on the table. She kissed his cheek. “Surprise.” She dropped two tickets on the table.
“What’s this?” He picked them up and opened the flap.
“The Cook Islands; I booked us a beachside resort for ten days, nothing but sunshine, beach and being pampered, you and me.” She traced her long painted nails up his arm.
“You’re unbelievable.” He pushed away his plate, threw down the tickets and walked out.
He was determined to do this right and heed his lawyer’s advice to walk away from a fight. It was hard, especially the way she goaded him. He phoned Keith again and yelled. “Hurry and get me that court date. I want her out of my house.”
Brad cancelled Crystal’s credit cards and emptied their joint bank account, and removed his name from the account. It was now solely hers. And he left firm instructions with the manager of the bank; she no longer had access to any of his funds.
Danger Deception Devotion The Firsts Page 30
