Defenseless

by Adrianne Byrd

  “Then why aren’t you married, Mr. Hamilton?” Sonya asked with a sarcastic smile.

  “I was married once,” Dwayne said, looking down at his glass. “My wife passed away almost thirteen years ago.”

  Sonya felt his pain instantly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, leaning forward to take his hand. The unexpected electrical current from his touch caused her to release it.

  Silent moments passed between them before Dwayne spoke again. This time there was a small tremor to his voice. “Why don’t you believe in marriage?” he asked softly.

  Sonya closed her eyes. She didn’t want to answer, nor did she want to open herself up to this man. “It’s just my silly opinion.” She tried laughing off his question, but the serious look on Dwayne’s face told her that he didn’t accept her explanation.

  “Sonya, not every man is like Curtis.” This time he leaned in to take her hand. There was a softness in his eyes that made her want to trust him. She wondered what it would be like to trust a man with all her doubts and uncertainties. A warning bell rang loud in her head. Sonya pulled her hand from his touch and faked her self-confidence. “I’m sure you feel that you’re the spokesman for your gender, Mr. Hamilton, but the truth is, I’ve never met a man worthy of my love.”

  Dwayne’s eyes didn’t lose their softness. “Maybe one day you will, Miss Walters.”

  Again Sonya felt uncomfortable with their conversation. “It’s getting late.” She stood and walked away from him. She paused beside one of the windows and gazed out. Her instincts told her that Dwayne was standing behind her.

  “What are you afraid of, Sonya? Love? Companionship? I assure you, these things are nothing to fear.”

  Sonya attempted to laugh at his observation but failed. Her voice cracked, and she knew then she was caught. She turned around to face him, knowing he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. “It’s been my experience, Mr. Hamilton, that a woman’s love is something very fragile. Unfortunately it’s also something too many women give away carelessly. I don’t plan to make that same mistake. I fought for too long to prove that I define my happiness. I don’t need or want to depend on anyone else to give me what I am capable of doing myself.”

  Dwayne’s face softened under the tranquil glow cascading through the window. “I know you’ve been hurt, Sonya.” He reached up and gently began to caress her cheek. “Don’t let the ignorance of a couple of men rule your heart against the rest of us.”

  “Are you considering yourself in a different class than Curtis, Mr. Hamilton?” Sonya wanted to pull away but couldn’t.

  Dwayne smiled. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

  This time Sonya did pull away. “I think it’s time you left, Mr. Hamilton.”

  “Are you going to be all right tonight? Maybe I should take one of the extra bedrooms upstairs. I don’t like the thought of you being left alone,” Dwayne said with concern in his voice.

  Sonya’s stomach tightened at the thought of them sleeping under the same roof. She was still too confused about the strong emotions exploding within her just from looking at him. Yet what could she say? She definitely had enough room, and she would be lying if she said that today’s events didn’t leave her shaken up a bit. She was grateful he’d stayed this long, but she didn’t want him to continue with his interrogation.

  “Sonya?”

  Acknowledging she didn’t feel safe alone, she looked back into his probing eyes. “I would like it very much if…you would stay the night, Mr. Hamilton.”

  Dwayne glanced at the clock beside his bed. Three-fifteen, five minutes since the last time he’d checked. The guest room Sonya gave him was directly across from her room, a thought he was unable to forget. He wondered if he should call Sharon again to check on Bridget.

  He had called Bridget after deciding to stay the night with Sonya. He didn’t want to leave his daughter home alone, so he instructed her to spend the night at her aunt’s house. He had also called three times after she arrived safely at Sharon’s to check up on her. He knew Bridget could be a handful and was probably trying to see how much she could pull over her aunt’s eyes. Looking at the clock again, he decided against it. Sharon was no pushover—surely she had things under control.

  Dwayne pulled himself into a sitting position, realizing he wasn’t about to get to sleep anytime soon. He let the moonlight serve as his light as he stood up from the bed. The unpleasant feeling of cold marbled floors sent shivers to his spine as he pulled on his pants and headed toward the door. He successfully made it out of his room without making a sound, then headed toward the staircase.

  As he descended, he admired Sonya’s palatial house. The elaborate style was indeed impressive, yet he felt the grand home didn’t quite fit the woman he saw in Sonya. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a strong, intelligent and classy woman, but he had the distinct impression this house represented a wall, perhaps a fortress, she built around herself. The house was beautiful, but it lacked the warmth and laughter it needed to turn it into a home.

  Dwayne remembered the pain reflected in Sonya’s eyes earlier that evening, and suddenly the answer became crystal clear to him. She was afraid. Of what, he didn’t know and found himself wishing that he did. The protectiveness he felt for her grew with each passing day.

  Dwayne shook the thoughts forming in his mind. He should be thinking of other matters, such as his missing client.

  The sight of flickering lights caught Dwayne’s attention. He headed toward the living room to find out its source. Stepping into the spacious room, he didn’t expect the lovely vision of Sonya dressed in a blue lace nightgown. She sat prettily on the couch with the added light from the candles illuminated around her. He couldn’t figure out why she had at least a dozen or more candles lit in the living room as she seemed engrossed in something she was holding.

  Dwayne didn’t want to disturb her, so he started to head back to his room. If it wasn’t for the sniffling he heard, he would have carried out his plans.

  “Sonya?” he asked, stepping back into the room. If she heard him, she didn’t show it. She continued studying something in her lap. “Sonya, are you all right?”

  This time Sonya did look up, her eyes puffy and red. It was obvious to him that she’d been crying. “You’re wrong. All men are alike.” Her words slurred together as her lips trembled.

  “You’re drunk,” Dwayne said, coming toward her. He noticed another empty bottle of Merlot in front of her.

  “I’m not drunk.” Sonya tossed what looked to be a small picture frame to the opposite end of the couch. Dwayne’s curiosity caused him to look toward the frame.

  “I think I need to get you to bed,” he said, picking her up. She didn’t seem to realize that Dwayne was carrying her up the stairs as she continued to pout. “I’m not sleepy,” she recited.

  Dwayne smiled down at her, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. She rested her head against his shoulders and sighed. Dwayne worried that she would hear the hard pounding of his heart. He kicked her bedroom door open and headed to the king-sized canopy bed that sat like a golden throne in the middle of the room.

  He tucked her in, and despite her protests, she closed her eyes the moment her head hit the pillow. Dwayne could do no more than gaze at her. She was more beautiful in her sleep than at any other time he’d studied her.

  Slowly he turned from the room and succeeded in not disturbing her. He went back down the stairs to the living room and blew out a few of the candles before his curiosity returned to the discarded picture frame. Dwayne picked up the small frame and viewed the four people in the photograph. It wasn’t a happy picture. No one in the picture was smiling. The dark, heavyset man in the photo had his arm draped possessively around a slender woman who looked repulsed by his touch. The young girls standing in front of the unhappy couple resembled their parents but not each other.

  He recognized Sonya instantly. Her hair was parted in the middle and pulled into two tight ponytail
s. She resembled a sad angel dressed in a dingy white dress. Sonya’s hands held those of the smaller sister standing beside her. Laura wore the same dress, in a smaller size. She was the only one not looking in the direction of the camera. She stood staring toward her older sister. Her face held such adoration for Sonya. It was obvious to Dwayne that Sonya had always been Laura’s protector.

  Dwayne thought of what Sonya had said earlier. “You’re wrong. All men are alike.” He also remembered the rest of the article Carmen had given him. Dorothy Walters was a battered housewife. For the first time, he understood what Sonya meant and what she must have gone through as a child. No wonder she felt all men were the same. She had seen nothing but violence in men.

  Dwayne studied Sonya again, and this time he let his finger trail around the frame of her face. She looked so sad. Slowly, he placed the picture back on the sofa and blew out the rest of the candles.

  Walking back up the stairs, his thoughts wandered back to the picture. He was beginning to understand Sonya’s determination to prove to herself that she could handle everything on her own. The house was a fortress she had built to protect what she held so dear: her heart.

  Sleep wouldn’t come as the clock now read four-forty-five. There was a sudden thrashing sound coming from outside his room. Dwayne left to investigate. The sound was coming from Sonya’s room. He gently pushed open her door.

  There, in her silken sheet haven, Sonya thrashed about. She’s having a bad dream. Instantly, Dwayne was there, gathering her into his arms. “Shh, I’m here,” he whispered. Her thrashing ceased almost immediately. Her body molded itself against his chest in total relaxation.

  Dwayne rocked Sonya until he felt his own sleepiness. Gently, he laid her back in the bed. A small whimper escaped Sonya’s lips as she unconsciously clung to him. Without hesitation, he slid into bed beside her. Within minutes, he was asleep. Soon the first rays of dawn trickled through the windows to kiss the couple’s faces as they lay sleeping peacefully.

  Chapter 11

  Bridget sat next to her aunt and uncle, bored with their conversation. They talked about different computer programs and diagnostics tests her uncle James had handled in the past week. She couldn’t understand how Aunt Sharon sat there, nodding her head, as if she were truly interested in this stuff.

  Neither of them noticed that she was bored out of her mind. She dipped her spoon in and out of her soggy cereal, praying that her father would call or show up to save her at any moment. She looked down disgustedly at the knee-length, pastel dress her aunt Sharon made her wear today. If anyone she knew saw her dressed like this, she would die of humiliation.

  “Bridget, don’t play with your food,” Sharon instructed with a smile. “And sit up straight. Young ladies don’t slouch like that.”

  Bridget refrained from rolling her eyes as she straightened herself in the chair. Uncle James ended his story with a boring computer joke someone told at work. Aunt Sharon laughed heartily while Bridget tried to figure out the punch line.

  James turned his attention to her. “So, Bridget, you have only one year left of high school. Any thoughts about what your plans are after college?

  After college? That’s at least five years away. How would I know? “I’m not quite sure what I want to do yet,” she said simply.

  “It’s never too soon to start planning, and trust me, computers are the future,” James said. He nodded his head toward her as if he were trying to get her to agree with him.

  “Well, do you have any hobbies or interests you’d like to pursue?” Sharon jumped in.

  Bridget let out a small sigh. This was going to be a long and painful conversation, she just knew it. Hurry up and call, Daddy. “I like music and I thought about, maybe, modeling.” That was the wrong answer, judging by the looks that passed between them. Maybe I should’ve said I was thinking about becoming a doctor or lawyer.

  “Is there anything else you enjoy doing? Perhaps you have a favorite subject in school?” Sharon asked with hoped laced in her voice.

  “No, not really. I don’t think school really agrees with me,” she answered honestly.

  “How about another hobby?” James asked, a little too eager.

  “I like collecting coins. I have over two thousand that I’ve collected over the years. It’s really neat. Maybe you would like to see them?” She looked from her uncle to her aunt, who gave her odd looks.

  “Does your father know about your not preparing for your future?” Sharon asked, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

  Bridget slumped her shoulders but quickly corrected herself at Sharon’s disapproving look. “Dad says that I should take my time deciding what I want to do, and that no matter what I choose, he would stand behind me.” That wasn’t completely true. What he had said was for her to start getting serious about life and get her head out of the clouds. But she wasn’t about to tell them that.

  The breakfast table grew quiet as everyone finished their meal. Bridget didn’t see what the big deal was. Everyone acted as if she were supposed to already have her whole life planned. I’m sixteen. What’s the rush?

  “Are you all packed?” James asked Sharon when she stood to clear the dishes.

  “Yes. Our reservations are confirmed. We leave tomorrow at eleven.”

  Bridget helped clear the table. As her aunt and uncle talked about attending some banquet in James’s honor in California, Bridget blocked out the rest of their conversation. She thought about her future. She liked the idea of pursuing a career involving precious coins. The subject fascinated her.

  After the dishes were all cleared away, Bridget returned to the guest room to give Sharon and James their privacy. Once she was alone in her room, she let her shoulders slump to their regular position. She felt hurt by her aunt and uncle’s lack of support. Whose life is it, anyway?

  She waited patiently for her father to call. Being on restriction was a drag. She couldn’t believe he told her aunt that she was not to leave the house until he had personally called for her to do so.

  Another hour passed, and Bridget grew restless. Aunt Sharon knocked on the door and peeked in. “What are you doing?” she asked, smiling.

  “Thinking,” Bridget answered.

  “About what?” she asked, walking into the room.

  Bridget shook her head. “I don’t think you want to hear about it.”

  Sharon lifted a questioning brow. “Of course I would. Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t think anyone cares about what I really want to do. Just what they think I should do.”

  Sharon sat beside Bridget with a hurtful expression. “That’s not true, Bridget. I’m always here when you want to talk.”

  Bridget took a deep breath, then began talking carefully. “I’m hurt by how you and Uncle James made me feel at breakfast. I’m not some silly teenager. I mean, you made me feel like my suggestions for a career were stupid or something.”

  “Honey, we didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that we want the best for you. That includes the best schools and the best career.”

  “I know, but maybe I should have a say on what I think is best for me. Every time I come over here, I get hit with questions on my career choices or advice on how to catch a husband once I’m in college. I might not want to get married. Maybe I don’t want to go to college.”

  “Not go to college?”

  Bridget dropped her head. Here we go again. Adults didn’t mind her expressing her opinion as long as it didn’t differ from theirs. “That’s an option. College isn’t for everyone, you know.”

  Sharon smiled tightly. “Maybe we should discuss this with your father.”

  Bridget threw her hand up. “Why? It’s not my father’s decision. It’s mine. I kinda like the idea of dealing with coins. Perhaps I could be some kind of dealer or something.”

  “Without a college education?” Sharon asked skeptically.

  “College doesn’t guarantee you a job, Aunt Sharon,” Bridget said, placing her
hands on her hips.

  Sharon continued to shake her head. “Your father isn’t going to like this.”

  Bridget gave up. Aunt Sharon hadn’t heard a word she’d said. She put her face in the palm of her hand and chose to ignore the rest of her aunt’s words. If Aunt Sharon wanted to tell her father, she would just have to prepare herself to go through this speech when she got home. Again she wished that he would hurry up and call.

  Sonya rolled over and bumped her head against something hard. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see a broad chest lying beside her. Her heart skipped a beat as she allowed her eyes to travel upward. Her entire body quivered in shock at discovering Dwayne sleeping beside her.

  Desperately, she searched her memory for an explanation. She remembered not being able to sleep, then going downstairs to have another glass of wine. Bits and pieces of her drinking more than just one glass of Merlot flooded her mind. A remorseful moan sounded deep within herself. What have I done?

  Dwayne’s arms tightened around her waist as he snuggled closer. Her eyes widened in alarm as her voice failed her. She was speechless. She allowed herself a moment to think before she decided to ease away from him. It was easier said than done. His arms were too heavy for her to lift. They seemed to weigh a ton.

  Sonya gave up after the fifth try. She needed a better plan, but she couldn’t think of another way of escaping his embrace. Surely she didn’t let her first time result from a drunken stupor. She found comfort in the fact that she was still dressed in her nightgown. That could only mean nothing happened. Right? Why can’t I remember? Sonya felt her anger rise. How dare he take advantage of me when I obviously couldn’t defend myself. What kind of man was he?

  Sonya allowed her fury to build while she imagined wild scenarios that led them to being in bed. She never once believed she played a guilty role, resulting in them lying in bed together. She blamed Dwayne for taking advantage of the situation.