by J. E. Taylor
“Goddamnit!” he swore and headed back inside. He grabbed his car keys and left the house, locking it up behind him.
Chris drove to the lighthouse and got out of his car, walking down the street toward her house. He stood on the corner, watching the house, just waiting. Tom has to leave the house sometime, he thought and as if on cue, Tom walked out the front door and got into his truck.
The truck pulled out of sight and he trotted to the front door. “Open,” he commanded and the door swung open. He walked in and saw her on the back porch leaning on the railing with her back to him.
“Did you forget something?” The smile on her face froze when her eyes landed on him. “What are you doing here?”
Without answering her, he took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers.
She pushed him away. “No.”
“Yes.” He went to kiss her a second time.
“You can’t just come in here and do this.”
“I can’t let you go.”
“You have no choice. We aren’t in that cell anymore. This is the real world and I made my choice a long time ago.”
“You love me.”
“Doesn’t matter. I chose Tom. I married him knowing you were out there somewhere.”
“Jessie, I can’t do this without you.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been fine for five years without me. You have to leave. Now. Before he gets back.”
“No.”
“He followed me today and if he finds you here, he will kill you. He doesn’t know, but if he sees you here, sees the way you are looking at me, he will. Please go.”
“He can’t touch me.” Not with what you gave me. “Besides, my car isn’t here,” he added to calm the panic he felt radiating off her.
“Do you want to hurt me more than you already have?”
Chris felt the mental slap and stepped away from her. “I want the dream.”
“You can’t have it. You changed everything when you came and I’m so thankful. You gave me Emily back,” Jessica said. “But I don’t want to leave Tom. I love him too. He’s the one who has my heart.”
“But I have your soul,” Chris whispered.
Jessica nodded. “Yes you do and you know what it would do to me if I lost Tom.”
Chris took a deep breath. It would destroy everything he loved about her. “So I lose again.”
Jessica closed her eyes and dropped her head. “Yes.”
He hated losing, it just wasn’t natural and losing her was worse than losing his life. Pain gripped him, spreading from the center of his heart outward until it throbbed in his fingertips. He turned, quickly descending the staircase to the back lawn taking one last look over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.
Regardless of her words, what he saw in her eyes was the same pain rushing through him, like a piece of their souls were melded together and one without the other left an incomplete person and imbalance that fate did not take kindly to.
Chapter 32
“Emmy, don’t be too long, we have to leave in a little while,” her mother called through the closed door.
Emily stared at the door from the center of her room, fear keeping her still and trembling in his vile grasp. The ice-cold hand clamped over her mouth and she felt his breath on her neck. His other hand was already buried in the front of her pants.
“Going on a little trip?” Frank said and licked the side of her face. “Remember, you scream, they all die.” He chuckled and his hand moved from over her mouth to her chest.
She shook, her gaze glued to the mirror, glued to his sadistic laughing eyes. “Not again,” she whimpered.
“There is nothing like virgin pussy,” he whispered in her ear, moving her toward the bed. He pushed her over on her stomach and parted her cheeks. “Except maybe for a virgin ass.”
His laughter echoed in her ears and pain rippled through her, paralyzing her in place until his vile assault concluded and he leaned close to her ear. “I’ll be waiting for you in California.”
Emily lay on her stomach sobbing into the bed. She reached down and pulled her jeans up slowly wondering what she had done to deserve this. She finally got a hold of herself and dragged her suitcase out, throwing all her things in without thought.
He knew where they were going. He was going to be there too.
Both thoughts brought another wave of tears and she snatched the phone off the floor.
“Hey Sara,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You okay?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Emily zipped up the suitcase.
Her question was met with silence.
“You okay Emily?” Sara asked again.
Emily cried quietly. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I don’t know,” Sara said. “Why?”
“I think I’ve got one.”
“How do you know?” Sara asked.
Emily let out a hysterical laugh.
“What is it, Em?” Sara asked, her voice carrying her nervousness with it.
“He...” She let out a little sob. “He raped me.”
“What? Who?”
“The ghost.” Emily wiped the tears off her face. “I have to go. We’re flying to California tonight.” Another sob escaped her. “He said he’d be there waiting.”
“Shit, Em. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But he threatened to kill my family if I told them.”
“You sure he can?”
Emily thought about his violation of her, how painful it had been and how his hand around her throat the other day felt. “Yes,” she finally whispered. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone and walked quickly to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Emily splashed cold water on her face and wiped it with a towel just as Eric knocked on the door.
“Em, I gotta go.”
“Use the one near the kitchen,” she snapped and heard him shuffle away. This was going to be a long trip. Maybe he wouldn’t find her there, she hoped, but deep down, she knew he would show up and do more unspeakable things to her.
Chapter 33
The plane landed with a bump at LAX in the wee hours of the morning, jerking Jessica awake. Tom had his arm protectively around her and he snored softly. Thank God for first class seats, she smiled and looked at the kids across the aisle.
Emily shook Eric awake. “Wake up squirt, we’re here.” She yawned.
Jessica kissed Tom on the cheek. “Wake up, honey.” His grip tightened around her and his eyes blinked open.
He stretched and smiled at her. “Did you get any sleep?”
“A little.” She had been awake for most of the trip thinking about Chris. She missed him already and felt a pang of guilt.
“Good.” He smiled and looked over at the kids. “You ready?”
Eric grinned. “You bet.”
Emily was more subdued, but she nodded and stood when the seatbelt signs went off.
Tom stood and grabbed their carry-on bags from the overhead compartment and they headed off the plane. The luggage area was sparsely crowded with half awake passengers waiting for their bags. A driver stood to the side with a sign stating ‘Whitman family’ by the luggage turnstile. Tom signaled to him and handed over their carry-on luggage. The driver waited until they collected the checked bags and put it on the cart, leading them out the doors to a stretch limousine parked out front.
Eric’s eyes went wide. “Cool.”
Emily grinned. “Way cool.” She climbed inside.
Jessica and Tom smiled at each other. Being famous did have benefits and while Jessica had gotten used to this treatment out in L.A., it was brand new for the children. Emily and Eric bounced around the inside of the limousine, opening all the cabinets and drawers, playing with the windows and the privacy curtain. The kids reveled in the perks of the limousine, standing up through the sun roof, waving at the people on the streets as they passed by. Tom paid the driver to go the long route through Hollywood and
Beverly Hills before they headed to his house in Malibu.
“Do you have anything going on today?” Jessica asked as the driver pulled into the familiar driveway on Malibu Road. The beautiful white Mediterranean style home loomed in front of her. It never ceased to amaze her at how beautiful his home was with its neat clean lines and breathtaking views from the outside and yet cool, sterile, and unfriendly on the inside. Each room was decorated in postmodern style that accented the clean lines of the house; there were a lot of white walls, mirrors and chrome throughout the layout, which was nothing like their house in Maine. It definitely didn’t feel like home. As she stepped out of the car, she thought about Chris’s home, with its warm Victorian décor and soft accents, which were much more in tune with her tastes than this stale museum.
“My agent has a script he wants to talk to me about; I’m meeting with him in about an hour,” Tom replied and got out of the car, unlocking the front door and waved the kids inside.
“Doesn’t he usually send you the scripts before you meet?”
“Yes, he’s being very cryptic about this one though.” Tom shrugged. “He did say that it was being filmed on the East Coast and could be one of the hottest movies of the season, but he wanted to talk to me in person before he gave me the script.”
“Will it interfere with the show?”
Tom took a deep breath. “This is the last season for the show. I’ve only got half a dozen more episodes to tape.”
Jessica turned in surprise; he hadn’t told her about this. “You’re kidding?”
He shook his head. “It’s been a great run, but it’s time to call it a day. I’m tired of being Superman.” He shrugged and grabbed their suitcases, heading to the master suite.
Jessica picked up the kids’ suitcases and headed to the bedroom wing behind Tom. She put Emily’s suitcase on the bed in one of the guest rooms and looked around. It was just too white for her tastes. When she looked into the mirror over the bureau a small chill went down her spine. She headed out of the room into the second guest room, setting Eric’s suitcase on the bed in that room and shaking her head. The rooms were almost identical.
She walked into the master suite and Tom grabbed her around the waist, planting a kiss on her lips.
“I’m so glad you came.”
“Me too,” she said and hugged him. She looked at the sliding closet doors. They covered the far wall of the room and they were mirrored. She shivered and prayed that they were far enough from Frank’s grasp.
Eric ran into the bedroom. “Mom, have you seen the pool!”
“Yes honey, I have.”
“Can we go swimming?” He bounced.
“Sure, when I get back,” Tom said.
“Emily, we can go swimming!” he yelled and ran out of the room.
“Maybe I’ll take him surfing later today.” Tom led Jessica back into the main living area of the house.
“I’m sure he’d love that,” Jessica replied.
“I’d love what?” Eric asked and opened the refrigerator. There was very little inside: a gallon of juice and a six-pack of beer graced the shelves. He grabbed the orange juice and put it on the table.
“Tom wants to take you surfing.” Jessica opened the pantry. It was as empty as the refrigerator and she looked over at him.
“I didn’t know you were coming out,” he said in defense of the empty kitchen.
She raised her eyebrows. “But still?” She waved her hand at the pantry.
“I don’t eat here. They have food on the set and then I hop on a plane to see you.” He shrugged. “Want to go out for breakfast? I can drop you off at a great place to grab a bite and join you after my meeting?”
Chapter 34
Tom walked into Harry Cartwright’s office and extended his hand with a smile. “It’s good to see you, Harry.”
Harry stood and shook Tom’s hand. “You too.” He reached to the side of his desk, producing a script and moved around the formidable desk to sit on the more informal overstuffed couch and chairs at the opposite side of the office. Harry motioned for Tom to take the seat across from him and set the script on the table. “I wanted to discuss this with you in person,” he said pointing at the bound script. The words Survival Games graced the front cover.
“Okay. What’s it about?” Tom asked, reaching for the copy.
“Your wife,” Harry said, making Tom freeze halfway to the table.
“What did you say?” Tom sat back in the chair.
“It’s her story, Tom.” Harry took a deep breath. “And it’s very good.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tom stood up. He looked down at the script as if it were an alien being.
“They got permission to film in the complex in Albany.”
Tom tore his eyes away from the cover, meeting Harry’s gaze and the heat drained from his face and fingers, leaving him cold, on the verge of shivering. He sat down hard in the chair, speechless.
“They want you to play the part of Ty Aris. The two of you are the only ones who met him and lived to tell about it, so you have the inside track on the part.”
Tom looked at the script. Hesitantly he leaned over, picking it up. “I’ve got to be out of my fucking mind.”
“It’s written based on the tapes. There was so much footage of what went on down there, Tom.”
“Who wrote it?”
“Sharon Young.”
She was one of the reporters that he had called in favors with to leave Jessica alone. “Jesus,” Tom said. “I honestly don’t know if I could ever set foot down there again. Much less play him.”
“Tom, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. We are talking Oscar material here.”
“Bullshit.”
“Seriously. It is along the same lines as Silence of the Lambs,” Harry replied, leaning forward in his seat. “And it comes with a huge ticket.”
Tom took a deep breath. “How much.”
“Thirty million.”
Tom raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He flipped open the script and read a page. He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Tom, you would get to play a seriously deranged man. This would blow the mold that you have built with this Superman gig right out of the water and open up so many doors for you.”
“Jess isn’t going to be happy.”
“So you’ll do it.”
“I didn’t say that.” Tom looked up at him. “I’ll read the script and then decide. That is if I can actually get through it.” He closed his eyes a moment. “Harry, that was such a fucked up situation. It was hell and I’m not sure I want to relive it.”
“You wouldn’t be reliving it as yourself, Tom; you’d be recreating it as Ty Aris.”
Tom let out a short laugh. “Somehow that seems worse. You weren’t there. You didn’t see his eyes when he cut his stepbrother’s balls off.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “I thought Sharon used creative embellishment in the script.”
“No, Harry, that was real. Ty’s a sick motherfucker,” Tom said. “Let me read it and I’ll give you an answer next week.” He stood. “Whom do they have in mind to play me?” he asked.
“They’re talking with Colin Farrell.”
“And Jess?” Tom asked.
“They don’t have anyone for her part yet,” Harry replied. “Any thoughts?”
Tom shook his head and laughed. “I’ll have to think about that. Let me read the script and I’ll get back to you.” He looked at the script, chewing on his lower lip. “Does Sharon have the tapes?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you know.” Tom walked out of the office with the script in his hand.
Chapter 35
Tom got out of the car and gave the keys to the valet. He tried to smile as he approached the table but didn’t do a very good job of it.
“What’s up?” Jessica asked.
“Not much,” he said after he ordered a coffee.
“Well?” Jessica pried.<
br />
“We can talk about it later.” Tom skirted the issue and opened the menu. “Have you eaten?” he asked, looking at the absence of a plate in front of her. The kids were already eating.
“I waited for you.” She smiled and the waitress came over and took their order.
“You’re not even going to give me a clue?”
Tom gave her a warning glance and a shake of his head. “I need to read the script.”
“Is it the show?” Eric asked around a mouthful of pancakes.
Tom smiled at him and messed up his hair. “No sport, it’s a movie.”
“What’s it about?” Emily asked.
“Not sure,” Tom lied. “I still need to read it.”
They continued to shoot questions at him and he fended them off until the agitation bubbled over and he blew up. “Stop! I don’t know if I’m going to do the movie, so just stop and let me eat.”
They all looked at him, completely stunned.
Tom took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Sorry guys, I’m just a little tired,” he said looking around the table.
“No problem. Can we still go swimming when we get back?” Eric asked.
“Sure you can,” Jessica said.
Tom avoided Jessica’s questioning stare, focusing on the food in front of him instead.
They finished their meal in subdued silence and headed home.
“Can we stop at the grocery store on the way?” Jessica asked.
“Sure,” Tom said. He pulled into the local grocer in Malibu and waited in the car while they went shopping. The moment they disappeared in the store, he flipped open the script and began reading, flipping through the pages with rapt attention.
The passenger door unlatched and he jumped, slamming the script shut.
“That good?” Jessica asked.
He blinked a couple of times staring at her. His questions about her capacity for forgiveness flared up again by what he read. Ty Aris was portrayed as an arrogant bastard who thought he could take what he wanted, whenever he wanted. The worst kind of sexual predator.
