Bridge to Haven (25 page)

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Authors: Francine Rivers

Tags: #FICTION / General

BOOK: Bridge to Haven
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Lilith looked stunning in a black dress. Her brows lifted a fraction as her gaze flickered over Abra. “You do have something.” It sounded like a small concession. “Do
not
distract Dylan. He has important business to do this evening. I’d better warn you so it won’t be a hurtful surprise. He’s bringing another girl. It’s very important you stay out of the way.”

As people were ushered in, Lilith became effervescent, warm, full of laughter. She gave air kisses to everyone. They all smiled and chatted gaily. Despite the pleasantries and shows of affection, Abra had the feeling there were few in the room who liked Lilith Stark. Everyone knew the power of her pen, and no one wanted it dipped in poison at his expense. Dylan came in with a willowy blonde clinging to his arm. Many knew and greeted her. Trays of hors d’oeuvres were served, glasses of champagne replenished. Abra stayed as far away from Dylan and Veronica as she could get in the living room.
She sensed he was searching for her. He spotted her and whispered something to the girl on his arm, then led her across the room. Lilith saw what he was doing and tried to intercept them. He stepped around her, and Lilith gave Abra a withering look of warning. Abra headed for the door open to the outer courtyard. When Dylan said her name, she had no choice. Turning, she smiled.

“Veronica, I want you to meet my cousin. Abra, this is Veronica.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. She blushed with pleasure and looked at him with adoring eyes. Abra’s heart pounded. The devil still had the power to hurt her. A server in a black tuxedo approached, offering champagne. Dylan took two glasses from a tray, handing one to Veronica and one to Abra. He took another for himself. “You don’t look like you’re having much fun, Abra.”

She smiled stiffly. “Enough.”

“She’s a budding actress.” His mouth tipped on one side.

“You’re fortunate to have Lilith as your aunt.” Veronica sipped champagne. “She knows everyone in the business.” She looked Abra over and glanced at Dylan.

Lilith called Abra, beckoning her over to meet someone.

Dylan laughed. “Tell her all her efforts are for naught.”

Abra had already turned away, but she heard Veronica. “That’s not very nice, Dylan. Your cousin is very pretty.”

Lilith made the introductions and kept the conversation going. Abra stood with half a dozen people and felt utterly alone. “You look a little wan, dear.” Lilith pretended concern. “Why don’t you go back to the cottage?”

Abra wasn’t willing to do that. Dylan was the only hope she had. She took another glass of champagne and stood near the windows where she could watch and not be noticed. Dylan was playing his games with Veronica, and the girl was obviously under his spell. Abra felt desolate.

“And who might you be?”

Startled, she noticed the man sitting in a chair near the wall. He was attractive and older. She guessed him in his early forties. He rose. He was taller than Dylan, with the broad, muscular shoulders of a mature man. His brown hair had a light sprinkling of gray at the temples. He raised one brow. “Cat got your tongue?”

“My name is Abra.” She didn’t ask for his.

“Abra.” He said the name as though testing it. “An interesting name. Well, Abra, how do you fit in here?” He gave a nod that included the entire room.

“I don’t.” She almost forgot who she was supposed to be. “I’m Dylan’s cousin. From up north.”

“Are you really?” He looked amused. “Dylan’s cousin. From up north. It’s all in the details, isn’t it? Which side of the family?”

“Franklin Moss!” Lilith moved between guests, zeroing in on them. “Darling! There you are! I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

He faced her, his mouth curving. “Who dares hide from Lilith Stark?”

“I was so sorry to hear about Pamela.”

“Ah, Pamela. I’ll bet you were.” He sounded droll. “Pretty girls come and go.”

Lilith grazed Abra with a brief look before she shook her head and gave Franklin Moss a reproving half smile. “You’re not trolling the waters, are you, darling? Everyone here already has an agent.”

Mr. Moss cocked his head and looked at Abra again. “Even Dylan’s cousin?”

Lilith covered her irritation with a lifted hand. A servant appeared like a genie from a bottle, offering champagne. Mr. Moss shook his head and said he was drinking bourbon on the rocks. Lilith told the waiter to get him another. She plucked the champagne glass from Abra’s hand and said, “Naughty, naughty. She’s too young to drink, Franklin, and too young for you.”

“I didn’t know you were so protective.”

“She’s my favorite niece. And yes, she is lovely, and I daresay she has some kind of talent, but she’s going home soon.” She sipped champagne, her eyes fixed on Abra. “Her family misses her.”

“And which family would that be?”

Lilith’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve known one another a long time, Franklin. I’m sure you understand.” She tipped her chin. “Now, tell me about Pamela. I won’t be satisfied until I hear every detail from the horse’s mouth. You know I would rather hear the truth from you than depend on gossip.”

“That hardly seems your style, Lilith.”

Her pink lips tightened. “Rumor has it she fired you and went with another agency. I can’t believe that’s true. After all you’ve done for her.”

Abra felt the unpleasant undercurrents and withdrew. Dylan was immersed in conversation with Veronica and several others. Abra felt like a ghost, moving invisibly among the glittering crowd. A few looked at her, frowning slightly, as though trying to place her. She took a cracker with a slice of boiled egg and caviar.

Elizabeth Taylor was stunningly beautiful beside her husband, Michael Wilding, as they talked with Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher. Robert Wagner was even more handsome in real life than on celluloid or a poster.

Abra edged around the various groups, listening to bits and pieces of conversation: actors’ chitchat about auditions gone bad or good, a part they were playing, or talking up their credits to some man in a dark suit, some asking about auditions. She could always spot the studio executives.

Dylan was laughing at something someone had said. He still had his arm around Veronica.

Depressed, Abra quietly slipped out of the house and returned to the cottage. She hung the Grecian gown in the closet, pulled on a T-shirt, and went to bed. She couldn’t sleep.

Dylan came in after midnight. “I need the bed. One last hurrah with Veronica before I dump her.”

A tide of jealousy and hurt swept over her. “It’s bad enough I had to watch you with her all evening.”

“Get up.”

“No!”

“Don’t ever say no to me.” Dylan ripped the covers off the bed. Emotions she’d held in check for months brought her up and at him, hands like claws. She’d never felt such wrath or hate.

Dylan caught her wrists and pinned them against the mattress. “It’s been a long time since you sounded like a jealous girlfriend.” Grinning, he straddled her. “I knew fire still burned inside you.”

She managed to get one hand free and slapped him across the face. His eyes changed. Grabbing a pillow, he covered her face. Terrified, she bucked and fought. Just before she blacked out, Dylan tossed the pillow aside and grabbed her by the hair. “You ever slap me again and I’ll kill you. I could, you know. No one would even miss you.”

Gasping air, she sobbed, terrified. He sat back on her hips. Her muscles stiffened when his hands ran over her body, but she didn’t fight him. “You pretend indifference, baby, but your heart still pounds for me. You still love me. I can still have you whenever I want.”

His weight lifted from her. He sat on the edge of the bed and released his breath. He stroked her hair in a gentle caress, the cruel glint disappearing from his eyes. “You were already burning inside. I just stoked the fire.” He stood, a look of wariness in his face. “Sometimes I’m not sure how I feel about you. I feel something, more than anyone else has ever made me feel. Maybe that’s why I’m not ready to let you go.” He sighed as though the admission angered him. He jerked his head. “Take a swim.”

Still shaking, Abra got up. “Veronica knows I’m not your cousin.”

“That’s probably why she’s so intent upon pleasing me tonight.”

She removed her clothing while he watched and put on the bikini he’d bought for her in Santa Cruz. “Have your fun, Dylan.”

“I always do.”

Abra sat on the edge of the pool, shivering, as Veronica came out of the shadows. How much had she overheard? What did it matter other than that she might change her mind about Dylan? Maybe he’d said and done it all for that very purpose.

Fighting tears, Abra slipped into the warm water. Letting out her breath, she sank to the bottom and sat cross-legged on the white gunite. It felt rough against her tender flesh. Her long red hair floated around her like seaweed. Would Dylan care if she drowned herself? Giving vent to her anguish, she screamed under the water, hands fisted.

Her body, traitorous, rose. She treaded water. She felt someone watching her and looked toward the side of the pool. A man stood in the shadows, smoking a cigarette. He tossed it on the cement and ground it out with his foot before going back to the house. He turned slightly before he went inside, his face illuminated. It was Franklin Moss.

Joshua’s face swam in Abra’s memory, his words whispering in the palm fronds stirring in the night breeze.
“Guard your heart.”

Too late. She had been so certain when she ran away that she loved Dylan and he loved her. She learned the truth the hard way that first night in San Francisco. What he felt wasn’t love. She’d hoped his lust might turn to something better, something more tender and lasting. She’d given him everything in the hope of that happening.

He said he still felt something. But what? He said he wasn’t ready to let her go. She could hold on for a while longer, hope a little more.

She floated on her back, legs and arms spread like a dead woman, eyes wide open, staring up at the night sky. The air was chilly; the moon was full. Water covered her ears and she couldn’t hear anything except her own mind.

She couldn’t go back to Haven anyway. She’d been such a fool.
What was it Mitzi said once?
“No man buys a cow when he can get the milk for free.”
Even the waitress at Bessie’s Corner Café tried to warn her about Dylan.

I was blind, but now I see.
The words of “Amazing Grace” ran through her mind. She’d played that hymn dozens of times. Other lines came, unbidden. She didn’t want to remember them. She didn’t want to think about God.

Thinking about God only made her feel worse.

Zeke awakened in the darkness. His heart hurt. He sat up slowly, rubbing his chest. Turning the Baby Ben, he read two fifteen. He listened intently and heard the twittering hoots of a screech owl in the backyard, but knew that wasn’t what had awakened him. He rubbed his face, slipped his feet into his slippers, and padded into the kitchen. Joshua’s Bible was open on the table, notes jotted in his neat hand. Zeke pressed his fingers against his sternum again, as if he could rub away an old wound.

Is it time yet, Lord? It’s been eighteen months.

Silence.

Is there anything I can do, Lord?

Joshua came into the kitchen, barefoot and dressed in his pajama bottoms. “I heard you get up. Bad dream?”

“No. You?”

Joshua slumped into a chair and raked his fingers through his short hair. “It’s easier during the day. I can focus on work.”

“You work at night, too, in a different way. Our work is to believe God.” He took the coffee from the cabinet. “The battle is always over the mind, Son.”

“Do you think she thinks about us at all?”

“She probably tries not to.”

“I just don’t get it, Dad. She’s known the Lord all her life.”

“She knew what we told her about the Lord, Joshua. That’s different from knowing Him.” He turned on the tap water. “None of us hear His voice until we listen.”

Dylan came and went as he pleased. Sometimes he still stayed all night. “Have you missed me, baby?” At least she could pretend for a few hours someone loved her. Lilith kept him busy with constant demands. He was always on the go, “doing research,” as he mockingly called it. There wasn’t a hot spot or hideaway he didn’t know about. No one could bury a secret deep enough that he couldn’t dig it up. He had spies in private hospitals who called to whisper what star had checked in and why. Lilith made lots of money. Abra wondered if most of it was for keeping certain stories under wrap. She was generous, however, sharing a percentage of her income with Dylan.

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