by Maggie Thom
Heaven.
He pulled away, delicately extricating himself from her grasp and smiled sadly at her. “You are one sexy lady—”
“Is this your brush off? Don’t worry, I can take a hint.” Turning quickly, she stepped out of the tub, staggering when she landed on her injured leg.
He shut off the water and then grabbed two plush, white towels. Handing her one which she immediately used to cover up, he wrapped the other around his waist.
She bent to pick up her clothes—a white, mid-calf nighty, one his grandmother had purchased for her at a store she’d insisted they open at 4:00 a.m. Bailey’s jerky, quick movements suggested she was very angry with him. He pressed his hands together and put them over his nose. Breathing deeply, he took a moment to tell himself he was doing the right thing. She looked him in the eye. The hurt in the depth of those blue-green eyes was like seeing waves break upon the beach. All hope was gone.
“To hell with it.” Groaning, he threw all caution to the wind and pulled her into his arms. She was rigid.
“Look. I was trying to be a gentleman and not take advantage of you. You’ve had the week from hell. I don’t want this added to your list of regrets.”
She smiled and leaned into him. “I’m taking advantage of you. I plan on celebrating the end of several lousy days. I thought you might like to join me. If I’m wrong...” With that she stepped back, dropped her towel, opened the door, walked across the dark green carpet and slid beneath his sheets. Her limp and the cuts crisscrossing her back caused him to hesitate for a second but the sight of her sliding into his bed was more than he could resist. He dropped his towel and followed like a well-trained puppy with one thought reverberating through his mind: there is a God.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Bailey snuggled back into the solid warmth surrounding her as she drifted in a threshold consciousness. For the first time she could remember, she felt wholly and completely safe. It was that thought that brought her awake. She opened her eyes to a pencil sketch of an old clown walking with a cane. It was beautiful in its simplicity and yet the expression on the clown’s face was of sad awareness.
She wondered what would make a clown, that bastion of happiness, sad.
The feeling of warm, naked skin pressed against her back snapped her out of her reverie and her sleepy state.
Guy. Wow. She couldn’t help but smile at the amazing night they’d spent together. He was one special man. She’d had a crazy whim to climb in his shower after awakening alone, scared and tired of running. So for a change rather than leaving, she’d run toward something she wanted. And she’d definitely wanted Guy.
As though he were aware of her thoughts, his hand splayed over her stomach while the other rubbed down her thigh. A shiver of electricity shot through her. Knowing it was now or never, she inched herself away. She made it to the edge of the bed before those two strong arms she’d just untangled herself from wrapped around her and pulled her back.
“Eeekkk.”
“Where are you going?” he said groggily. Rolling over, he pulled her on top of him.
“Go back to sleep. I need to get back to my room.” The dim light coming in through the window suggested it wasn’t quite dawn.
“No.”
She looked down at the handsome face inches from her own. The slightly crooked nose was so tempting she ran her forefinger down the center of it.
“Fist fight.”
“Oh?”
“Grade nine. Mason wanted my girlfriend, Becky. I took offense, so I punched him. Bit of a mistake. The kid was built like a Mac Truck. Luckily, he only got the one punch in. Not so lucky for me, a broken nose and a badly sprained hand.”
Bailey chuckled then leaned forward and kissed first his nose and then his hand.
“Thank you. I don’t feel so bad about it anymore.” He smiled as he claimed her lips. He tucked her in beside him. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
“How about emotionally?” He peered into her eyes.
She met his gaze before looking away. Her hands jerked the blanket back and forth in a tug of war. “Screwed up. I don’t know what to say. My life isn’t mine. I—”
“Do you want to talk about it? I can maybe shed some light on all that’s occurred.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m really sorry this all happened to you.”
She nodded, not sure if she was really ready but glad it was only the two of them.
“It seems Mr. Lund had a heart attack and is in the hospital in Edmonton. He’s recuperating and should be fine. Just in time to go to jail, with what we’ve learned so far on that jump drive you gave us. There’s enough to put him away for years and we haven’t even cracked half of it.”
“He was my mom’s lawyer. How did she get tangled up with him?” She snorted in disgust. “Like I should be surprised. My life was full of losers. Only the one I thought was different than the drug dealers and prostitutes really only wore nicer clothes and hid it better.”
“It seems he was involved with your—Donna and Doug Zajic. Lund married above his social status and must have thought when Doug Zajic, a member of Parliament, came into his life, he was set. I’m still not clear but it would seem that Mr. Lund lived a life of...” Guy stared at the wall for a few seconds. “I don’t even know how to put it. He liked boys. Young ones. There’s no proof other than some mention of photos but I think—”
She sat up. “Oh my God. He was badgering me about a picture. At the time I thought it was odd but didn’t pay much attention. He seemed very anxious to know its whereabouts and had mom ever shown it to me. I told him she’d burned a picture once. He seemed to relax and be quite energized by that.” She looked at Guy. “Don’t tell me she had a snapshot of him with a young man.”
“I wish I could tell you that but I think it was of a young boy. It seems your mom was using it to blackmail him. He, in turn, blackmailed Doug. Maybe he had evidence of Doug’s abusing Donna and convinced him if he didn’t pay Lund would leak it to the media. Not something a government official could handle. He also manipulated your mom and made her life a living hell for screwing with him. It seems he had quite a list of people he was blackmailing. One of the accounts that Graham was able to crack looks like a tidy nest egg in an offshore account in the vicinity of twenty million dollars.”
“That son of a bitch. We lived like dogs. Sometimes I’d go days without eating. Any food I could scrounge I’d give to Mom so she could keep working.” Bailey paused. “Isn’t that interesting? I always thought Mom worked but other than the candy store in Calgary, I don’t know where or what she did. I know when she got desperate and depressed, I was the one who had to bring in the money.”
He rubbed her shoulder, carefully avoiding the nicks covering her skin. “Was that the scams she had you do?”
“Yeah.” She hung her head, letting her hair partially hide her face. “In all honesty, I’m the one who started it. I was desperate—hungry, cold, and tired of not having anything. I played up to this sharply dressed man; I got him interested in what a young girl could do for him. When he had his pants down, I took his money and ran. It was easy. Mom was angry at first, but she knew we had few options. From there, the ante went up. And I got better at it.”
Guy pulled her into his arms. Settling against the headboard, he stroked her hair. “You were a kid trying to survive in an adult world. I don’t think you did anything wrong. Or anything different than any other kid would have done.”
“The newspapers. I don’t understand the newspapers.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“Mom collected just about every major and some minor newspapers she could get her hands on. Why?”
“Hmmm. What if she was trying to keep up with what was happening in the political arena? If her husband was an MP, there were decent odds he’d be in the newspaper. If she was as distrustful as I think, then maybe she wanted to make sure he wasn’t coming after her? Going to find her?”
Bailey thought about that. “It makes sense. If I remember correctly, she always read the business and political sections first. Then she’d comb the rest of it for information. The ones that I threw out—” her hand flew to her mouth.
“The house. I haven’t cleaned out the house. I only have a week to do so. I don’t think I even locked it. Guy—” Horrified that she’d forgotten about her mom’s place, she tried to move but Guy stopped her.
“It’s okay. I was there after you and I locked it up. Don’t worry; we’ll get it cleaned up.”
Ignoring his reference to 'we’, she pondered who she could call to pack it up; get rid of everything but her suitcase and clothes. As soon as she had that thought, she realized she didn’t care anymore. She only knew she couldn’t go back there. There might be answers in all those papers dating back to the year she ended up with Donna and the years they’d moved but she wasn’t sure she wanted any more information. What she knew was that life hadn’t turned out the way it should have for her. Resting her cheek against Guy’s chest, she couldn’t resist the urge to rub against the soft dusting of hair, not because it was so amazing but because she needed to feel something real. “Who’s been chasing us?”
“It appears the first guy you met in your mom’s house was sent by Lund. He was a petty thief. I don’t think Lund meant for him to do more than follow you. The other guy we aren’t certain but best guess is he was hired by Uncle Geoff. He couldn’t afford to have you come back here.”
They’d already talked into the wee hours about Geoffrey and his role in her life. She wasn’t looking forward to hearing it all over again with the real members of her family. Feeling sick over all that had transpired just because she’d been born, she let her hand slide up Guy’s forearm, shoulder and then down over his chest, moving lower. Her tongue flicked out and lapped at his erect nipple.
“Conversation over.” He slid under the covers letting his hands glide down the sides of her body and then back up to caress her full breasts.
She smiled a sad, knowing smile. Her glance flicked to the picture beside the bed. She now understood the clown’s look. Letting go was going to be hard but she knew she could now and she wasn’t about to let something amazing, like this, pass her by. She gave herself over to the incredible sensations coursing through her body.
****
“Bailey. We need to talk.”
She glanced over her shoulder, thankful Guy was staring out the window. She’d easily distracted him earlier from what he’d wanted to tell her.
“Oh. I thought we took care of that.” She limped over to him and breathed on his neck.
He laughed as he faced her. She leaned in and standing on tiptoes, placed her lips over his. He hesitated only for a moment before he deepened the kiss. Tears instantly filled her eyes. She did everything in her power to stop them from overflowing.
There was a rap on the door.
“Guy? Your grandmother is waiting for you. She wants you there now.”
Guy jerked back. “Penelope. Tell her we’ll be there right away.”
Not knowing what else to do, Bailey buried her head against his shoulder. She took three deep, even breaths and swallowed the lump of guilt lodged in her throat. Her life just wasn’t meant to have a happy ending.
She pulled back and spun away. She stumbled as her injured leg wasn’t ready for such a rapid movement.
“Hey. What’s the hurry?” Guy’s arm whipped around her waist to support her. “We need to talk.”
“Guy...” She pushed him away and walked to the door. “Let’s just go. Let’s get this over with. There’ll be lots of time later to talk.” She smiled what she hoped was a winning one, although she felt anything but.
He held her gaze for a long time. Finally, he moved toward her to cup her face. “Promise me you’ll listen to me afterward.”
She looked at the scuff mark on his chin. She reached out and gently touched it. “Sure.” She opened the door and headed for the stairs. Guy stepped in front of her and redirected her to the elevator. Once inside, he grabbed her and hugged her tightly. Bailey couldn’t resist kissing him.
One last time.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Guy and a guilty looking, red-faced Bailey entered the second floor salon. Dorothea was sitting on the love seat, something that made Guy pause. He’d never seen her sit there before. He took in the rest of the room. Glancing at Bailey, he knew she was right to be tense. Nothing would be the same after this.
Extending his hand, he walked forward. “Hello Daniel, Gina.” Due to their breeding, they both acknowledged him but their eyes were glued to Bailey’s as hers were to them. The light of recognition was there in one another’s eyes. Only the reasons behind what happened were still to be revealed.
It was Gina who first broke the silence. “My baby.” Running forward, she wrapped her arms around Bailey, both women crying as they hugged for the first time in twenty-nine and a half years—and very possibly, for only the second time in their lives. Daniel hung back momentarily but he didn’t want to be left out. He wrapped his arms around both women and held on. The three let their tears cleanse away the pain of separation.
Guy was having a hell of a time swallowing the boulder-size lump stuck in his throat. His grandmother, he noted, was in much the same shape. He walked over and sat beside her.
“I don’t know how much to tell them.” Her hands worried the fabric of her blue silk dress, something she’d never done before. She’d never asked for anyone’s guidance in her life.
“No more secrets, Grandma. No more. There have been too many for too long. It’s gonna hurt but then the healing can begin. You don’t have to do it. Graham and I have pieced together most of it. Thank you for holding off for a few days, so we could all rest.” He kissed her cheek and then stood as Graham entered the room. Graham’s eyes opened wide, he started to fidget and look anywhere but at the scene in front of him. Guy walked over and slapped him on the back. “Think of it as getting in touch with your softer side.”
Graham, the guy females sought out when they needed a strong shoulder, choked out, “Hell.” Guy found himself in not much better shape as he turned his back on the scene and stared out the window, blinking several times. Once under control, he made his way to the bar and poured himself and Graham a straight whiskey. They clinked glasses, looked at each other, nodded and downed them. Unsure where they fit into things, they both stood awkwardly in front of the fireplace.
Gina was busy finger-brushing Bailey’s hair from her face and staring at every square inch of her. Daniel’s arms remained around both women.
“I don’t want to break this up but I think it’s important we talk about what has brought us here, and to find a way to heal and move forward. Aunt, Uncle and Bailey, please sit down.” They never looked at him but they moved as one unit to sit on the couch.
Rubbing his face, Guy let out a long sigh. “I don’t even know where to start with this.”
“Let me, Guy. I can fill in some of the background.” His grandmother sat forward, clasped her hands in her lap and thrust her chin upward. “Geoffrey was only my half-brother. I think that secret is what drove him over the brink. No one was supposed to know. Not even Geoffrey. But my parents weren’t the best at keeping their feelings to themselves. They always treated him differently, my mother as though he was lower-class. I guess since his real mother was a maid, she felt she was justified. My father looked at him as a reminder of getting caught with his pants down. Not something he took lightly. Geoffrey used to have to work so hard. The ugliest jobs. The longest hours. And when he didn’t do a perfect job, because that was impossible, they beat him. Not just pull down your pants and get the belt across the butt, no.” All the color drained out of her face. Pale and shaky, she continued, “No. They tied his hands to the barn rafters. Stripped him naked and whipped him.” Her hand flew to her mouth as the horror of what she was saying hit her. “I saw them. I did nothing. I was so scared. Geoffrey hated me so
much that he stabbed me with a sword.” She waved at the cane and her injured leg. “He was eighteen and drunk. I had come home for a visit. He was already into some pretty bad stuff but I didn’t want to know. I knew on some level that he’d hurt me deliberately, but I didn’t want to believe it. I made sure no one knew it was him.” Deep sobs shook her frail frame.
“Another time, he beat me with a cane. He thought I didn’t know it was him. But I did. I forgave him. He wasn’t responsible. He wasn’t. Mother did this to him.” Her body shook as though there wasn’t much holding it together.
Guy wrapped his arms around her as did Gina, who had stepped forward to comfort her mother.
“Oh, Mom. It wasn’t your fault.”
There was a loud indrawn breath. “Oh, Gina. My beautiful daughter. You don’t know the worst of it.” Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “He stole your baby.”
Gina reared back as though slapped. Her jaw moved several times but nothing came out.
“What? Why? How long have you known this?” Angry now, Gina stood and glared at her mother.
“She just found out. I know this is painful, Gina, but please hold on until we tell the whole sordid tale.” Although she complied, Guy wasn’t so sure that their relationship, strained for years thanks to her mother’s interference in Gina’s life, would survive this latest family saga. Gina backed up, her eyes wide as she plopped onto the couch. Bailey reached out and clasped her hand.
Graham took over at this point. “It seems that Geoff was living a life of debauchery, money laundering, drugs. Whatever was illegal, he was probably involved. At some point, he met this brother and sister—John and Mary. She worked as a nurse and got hired on at the hospital where you planned on having your baby.”
Gina gasped. Daniel sank wearily into the cushions as the import of that sunk in.
“She’d been there six months when you arrived and had Cassidy. She took the baby. It seems it was all planned out.” Guy bowed his head for a moment before straightening and looking at each person in turn. “The next part is a little unclear. We think she had to go into hiding due to the reward you offered. After five months, they must have figured they were safe, so she took a plane headed to Vancouver—only the plane went down in Alberta. Back in those days, if a baby was traveling on an adult’s lap, there wasn’t a record made of an infant being aboard. So when the plane crashed, all those listed on the manifest were identified as dead. No one realized that a baby was on board or missing. Again not sure how—” he looked at Bailey, “she survived it. But she did. Determined, even then.”
