by C. D. Samuda
“If you touch her, I’ll kill you!” Braeden directed at his grandfather. “How could you do this?”
Richard wheeled his chair close, his hand coming up to caress Braeden’s hair. “I won’t hurt her, I told you so. And I would never hurt you.”
“You call dangling a rope around my wife’s neck not hurting her?”
Richard beckoned to one of the men. “Remove the rope.” He then turned back to his grandson. “That was just for cinematic effect only. You think I’d do something like that?”
“Why? Why do you do these things?” Braeden’s voice cracked. “I’m your grandson for Christ’s sake!”
“It simple, she told me that if I handed my estate to you, she’d disappear out of your life for good,” the old man replied. “But I thought that if she disappears without you knowing about it, you might be hurt – heart broken, that sort of thing. So I wanted to give you the chance to choose. Prove your love if you must.”
Braeden’s face scrunched in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Time to choose,” Richard replied rather nonchalantly. “My assets or your wife.”
“What?” Braeden could not believe what his own flesh and blood was asking him to do. “You want me to choose between my own birthright and the woman I’m married to?”
“Yes.”
It then dawned on him that his grandfather was insane. The man had lost a screw and had become nuts. He started into his grandfather’s eyes and saw only a shell of the man he knew as a child. There was no emotion that would prove he was human. What about those memories he mentioned earlier? Where was the man in those memories? Where was the man who used to play soccer and help him with his homework?
“You’re insane,” Braeden answered with awe.
Meanwhile, Shade’s groans and whimpers reached his ears. His heart melted as he directed his gaze at her and realized she was shivering. How long had she been down there and why was she dressed in a swimsuit. The answers came to him. She was probably lonely and thought she’d take a swim and the old demon had her kidnapped.
Seeing her tremble made him want to wrap his body around her to keep her warm. The stool was unsteady and he feared what would happen if she continued to tremble so violently. He could not be responsible for anything happening to her.
He’d spent his entire life dreaming of getting back at his grandfather for what he did to their family. His way of doing that was to make sure he maintained his father’s legacy. He was supposed to retain his birthright and continue to build on what his father started. That was his revenge.
Not once in his entire life had he ever thought of strangling the old man until this moment. All these years of resentment never prepared him for the bitter hatred he now felt, the complete shame to be associated by blood to this man.
“You win,” Braeden said with a note of resignation in his voice. “You can have for fucking company and everything that goes with it. Now set her free and we will both disappear from your life for good.”
“My boy, you disappoint me,” Richard replied. “You’d choose a woman over your birthright?”
“Apparently it isn’t my birthright,” Braeden rejoined. “It was never meant to be mine. I did everything you ask, and still you make me choose? I’m done.”
“Are you sure?” the old coot questioned. “This is your last chance.”
Braeden nodded. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll take my wife and disappear from your life. I hope you rot in hell.”
Richard started to leave the room. When he was near the door he stopped. “I’m really sorry you feel that way, my boy. I hope someday you will understand and forgive an old man.” He turned his head to one of the men, instructing him, “Set them both free.”
Braeden wasn’t certain, but he thought he detected a note of sadness in Richard tone. However, he didn’t have time for that as they were loosening the rope from around him while another moved to free Shade.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” she shouted at the men.
They stood back and allowed him to move towards her. He picked her off the stool, set her gently down and pulled her up against his body. Holding her close for a minute, he ran his hands over her arms and back, trying to impart some warmth. She was crying, only it was muffled by the gag. He pulled away from her only to free her eyes and mouth, then her hands and feet. As soon as she was free, she began sinking to the ground.
“Shade,” he caught her. “Shade.”
Her eyes closed and she went limp.
Chapter 21
The ambulance arrived twenty minutes after his call. In that time, he had Charles take their luggage to one of the cars. He wanted to ride the ambulance but he needed to make sure nothing was left behind.
“I will take the bags to the penthouse master Braeden,” Charles told him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Sire.”
With that said, he boarded the ambulance with Shade, holding her hands while the paramedic tended to her. Braeden wasn’t sure he was able to stand the fact that his own grandfather tortured her, because that was what it was. Tying up someone while having a rope dangling around their neck while standing on a stool was torture.
It was apparent that basement was reserved for that very purposed and had been used for such atrocities. It used to be a plantation house, so perhaps the previous owners had used it. Or maybe … he refused to believe his own grandfather was capable of such demonic acts.
He never imagined anything like this happening in a million years. The most he expected was a pow-pow between him and the old man. He expected some resistance to the idea of his marriage to a black girl. But this?
“Will she be fine?” he asked the paramedic.
“As soon as the doctors examine her, you will know sir.”
She remained unconscious for the entire ride to the hospital. The ride was painful as memories of his father surfaced. The sound of the sirens from the ambulance evoked such agony that he felt his chest was tearing apart. The memory of the ambulance with his father pulling away from the apartment was like yesterday.
Braeden swallowed hard, pushing the past to the back of his mind and concentrated on the woman on the cot. As the ambulance pulled into the hospital, his stomach wrenched again, but he needed to be strong for her. They took her to the emergency while the doctor on duty asked him a few questions. As he recalled what happened his blood ran cold, but he could not very well tell anyone what his grandfather did. It was too shocking to even think about let alone utter.
“She was locked in a freezing basement for some time. I’m not sure how long.”
“Okay, we will see what we can do to revive her,” the doctor replied. “She might be suffering from hypothermia. We will have some answers after a thorough examination.”
The doctor left Braeden pacing in the outpatient waiting area. The white heat of wrath wrapped itself around him and he doubled his fist as his side. He’d been weak against his grandfather. But if anything happened to her, he would not spare the old man. He’d strangle him with his bare hands.
Braeden was stunned at the protectiveness he felt for Shade. Not only did this happen to her because of him, the tears staining her cheeks as she lay unconscious on the cot in the ambulance really shook him from his core. Seeing her in that condition made him want to protect her from people like his own grandfather.
“Master Braeden.”
Charles’s voice behind him made him whip around. His eyes widened upon seeing the butler he’d known since he was a child dressed in everyday clothes. This was the first time he’d seen Charles out of uniform.
“Charles?”
“Forgive me Sire,” Charles bowed slightly. “But I can no longer work with your grandfather.”
“What?” he stared at the man incredulously. Was this some trick from Richard? “You quit?”
“It’s been coming a long time, Sire. Since Bettina left.”
“Bettina?” he was confused. And the
n it dawned on him. “Bettina, oh. You two were …?”
“Yes.”
“Did Richard know?’
“Hell no,” the man replied, allowing his British accent to slip. “He would never have trusted me if he knew. But now with what he did, I can never forgive him.”
“Charles, you don’t have to quit because of this…”
“You don’t understand Sire,’ Charles interrupted. “He put something in your wife’s food.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Braeden raked his hand through his dark hair and spun around as though on an axel. Stunned, he blinked and shook his head. He halted and came back to search Charles face for any sign that he might be joking.
“I heard him asked one of the cooks about it and she said she did as asked.”
With his heart kicking against his ribcage, Braeden pulled up Charles by the collar. “What did he add to the food?”
“I don’t know. I got out of there before I was seen. You know your grandfather is a very dangerous man.”
Letting the old butler go, Braeden rushed up to the emergency desk and ask that the doctor tending to Shade see him immediately. He waited about five minutes for the doctor to come out to him.
“Someone might have added something to her food,” he told the doctor. “We don’t know what or if anything at all was done, but please do some tests in that regard.”
“We will have to do a thorough blood work up and see what was in the food,” the doctor said. “We will have her moved to a room immediately and monitor her progress for the next few days.”
“Doctor, she’s my wife, you must save her.”
“We will do our best Mr. Harrington.”
He grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Please keep this discreet until we find out what’s going on.”
“If someone tried to poison or drug your wife, you will have to notify the police.”
“I understand, doctor. Just please take care of her.”
Braeden was left with a decision to make. How could he allow his grandfather to get away with such an evil act? Taking his cell phone from his pocket he dialed Kurt. He would know what to do to avoid repercussions for the company. What he should do was call the police, but he decided to wait until he heard from both the doctor and Kurt.
After several rings his best friend answered. “Hey, how’s the old coot doing?”
“Kurt, you need to come to the hospital. It’s urgent.”
“Oh crap, the old man is finally saying his last prayers?”
“No, it’s Shade. She’s in a bad way man. Come quickly.”
“I’ll be right there.”
About ten minutes later, he was informed that Shade was admitted to the ward. He left word with the nurse at the emergency desk to inform Kurt where they were. For the half hour it took his friend to get to the hospital he paced the floor of the waiting area. Charles was still there, an ashen look to his skin.
Braeden was unable to believe the events of the last twenty four hours. He knew his grandfather wasn’t fond of black people, he’d heard him refer to them by the N-word many times when he was a child. His father used to correct him and explained to him that word was derogatory and that he should never use it.
When he asked his father why his grandfather used such a term, his father told him that his grandfather didn’t like people who seemed different from him. But his father also explained that those differences were what made each individual special. Shade was special.
Chapter 22
Twenty years ago…
The sixteen year old paced the emergency waiting area while his grandfather sat watching his movements. The police, his father’s best friend and a few business associates worked hard to keep the press outside.
“Stop that pacing,” Richard commanded. “It’s driving me crazy.”
The anger that had been simmering since he was ten years old finally boiled over. Braeden lunged for his grandfather, only to be held back by his body guards.
“I hate you!” he shouted. “This is all your fault.”
Even as he threw the words as his grandfather, Braeden wondered what he did that made his father do such a thing. Inwardly, he was shattered. He thought they were in a good space, his father being his best friend.
Then the doctor came out and the last thread of hope disappeared. His father was gone. He would never forget that day as long as he lived. Returning from school with good news about his math exams, he was in high spirits. He hadn’t expected his father home until later that night as the man often worked until after eight.
When he saw his father’s car in their parking space, he had been elated, he burst through the apartment door calling out to him.
“Dad, guess what?” There was no response. “Dad?”
He’d rushed through the living room and sprinted down the hall. He came to a hall when he saw his father’s bedroom door ajar. He called out again, then knocked. As he knocked, the door swung open. He was not there.
The study.
Braeden came back down the passage, crossed the living room and knocked the door of his father’s study. “Dad?” there was no answer. He gripped the knob and turned, the door was locked from the inside. “Dad, are you in there?”
After knocking several times and not getting an answer he started to panic. Perhaps his father had fallen sick and was unable to answer. He recalled his grandfather having a heart attack once and he was unable to respond. Maybe the same thing happened to his father.
He called 911 and within ten minutes the police was there, paramedics not far behind. The police broke the door down. As he rushed inside, one of the officers held him back. Wrangling from his grasp, he pushed through, needing to assist his father should he need him.
As he neared the desk, he stopped dead in his tracks. His father was sitting, his head down on the smooth surface of the mahogany desk. Blood oozed from a gash at his temple, a gun in his right hand. The paramedics rushed in and confirmed there was a feint pulse. The police took the gun which was still warm and told him to stay outside while they tried to save his father. He was rushed to the hospital.
Now he was told his father did not make it. He ceased from struggling against the grasp of those who held him. There was no use. It was his fault. He must have done something to make his father leave him.
“How could he leave me?” he whimpered, his knees buckling. “Why did he leave me?”
The next words he heard would forever be imprinted in his mind. “He left you because you’re a wimp. Now dry your fucking tears and stand to your feet like a man.”
With nostrils flaring and his resentment simmering, he stood up from the floor. Glaring at his grandfather, he swore in that moment that he would do everything in his power to make his father proud. He knew the many atrocities his grandfather had committed against them and he was old enough to channel his grief into something productive. If there was one thing Braeden wasn’t and that was a weakling.
He hadn’t yet forgiven his grandfather and his mother for what they did and he swore he would find the truth behind his father’s suicide. With his heart broken, he stepped away from the man who was supposed to be confronting him. Instead he was causing him more pain.
After the funeral, Braeden left for college. Against the advice of his father’s lawyer, he was reluctant to put the apartment up for sale. When he returned from college at the end of the semester, it took every ounce of will to be able to step inside.
He began searching through his father’s study, trying to find some clue as to why he took his own life. The therapist that Uncle Rob, his father’s best friend, insisted that he saw told him that he was not at fault. It took Braeden nearly three years to start believing the therapist.
Even though the therapist tried to convince him that his father was unwell, he knew something must have triggered him to think those he was leaving behind would be better off without him. That’s how suicidal think. Something would have made him so depressed to
think the he was unable to cope with what was happening.
And then he found the letter stuck to the underside of the desk. Braeden could still see the blood stains on wood. His hand trembled as he opened a letter addressed to his father.
Dear Aaron, I know this is a bit too late, but I needed to tell you why I left. I made a mistake because I was lonely and then he would not leave me alone. He blackmailed me every time and I fell for it. When I told him it was really over, he threatened that he would strip you of everything and leave you with nothing. I could not bear the thought of you not obtaining what you worked so hard to build. He made sure you were always sent away or worked late nights in order to seduce me.
I am sorry. He even threatened that if I did not stay away, he would harm you and our son. I never stopped loving you and Braeden. But I promised to keep away and I will, for your sakes. Love Jen.
Braeden dropped the letter and staggered back. It took a moment for the clouds to clear from his mind and pick up the letter again which he reread three more times. The letter was written on one of those old stationary that would be folded into an envelope and posted. On the back was the postage stamp from France and the date. He stared at it. The postage date was a few weeks before his father committed suicide.
Chapter 23
“She has regained consciousness,” the doctor said. “But we found no trace of foreign substance in her blood during the preliminary tests. The other tests should be ready within the next twenty-four hours at which time we will know more. However, it would speed things up to know exactly what she ingested.”
“Thank you Doctor.” Braeden breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders.
After the doctor walked away, he made a step in the direction of Shade’s room before turning back to Charles. The man stood expectantly waiting on some instruction.
“Charles, I need you to find out from that cook what she put in the food,” he instructed. “You must do so without my grandfather knowing anything.”
