Rose of Betrayal (16 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Lowe

BOOK: Rose of Betrayal
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Anger
and alcohol seized Ted.
 
“You're a
teasing little bitch.
  
How much do you
think a man can take?
 
I'm going to have
you now.
 
I can't wait any longer.
 
Go ahead and fight me, it will only make me
enjoy it more.
 
Its time you found out
your place is beneath a man.
 
I'm going
to spread you wide, fill you completely, and show you what fucking is
like.”
 
Grasping the thin straps of her
dress, shredding it to her waist completely exposed her upper torso, a sight
that only deepened his desire, as well as his voice.
 
“When I bought this dress, baby, I bought
you.”
  

Horror and revulsion stripped her of her faculties.
 
Every inch of her body quivered.
 
Screams echoed in the room, hands slapped his
chest, his face.
 
Nails tore skin.
  

Rage brought his hands around her wrists painfully wrenching them behind
her back. His mouth sucked a trail from her breasts to her shoulder, to her
neck and swollen blue lips.
 

 

“Ted don't,” her protests strangled by his mouth slanting
harshly over hers.
         
Succumbing to
weeks of abstinence, thrusting his rod repeatedly against her pelvis banged her
against the wall.
 
With her terrified
screams riffling the air, groans hot against her ear, before he could penetrate
her, semen spilled onto her skin.
 
Sam’s
mind reeled with disgust.

A thunderous, unrelenting pounding accompanied by a
harsh demanding voice broke through the haze.
  

“What, in hell, is going on?
 
Let
me in, Ted, now God Dammit.”
  
Leaning
into the door with his shoulder, Brad attempted to bust into the room.
 

 

          
Senses
jarred, Ted stepped back.
 
His glance
scanned the damaged he‘d done, Sam’s mascara smeared eyes, tangled hair,
tattered dress, and panties on the floor.
 
Appalled with himself for the act he had committed, he moaned,
     
“Jesus . . .
 
what have I done?”

 

          
Upon
exiting the elevator, at first Brad could not comprehend what was
happening.
 
He heard a woman’s screams
coming from the Penthouse, sounds that brought memories of another time,
another place.

“Jesus Christ Ted, open the door, now!”

 

          
Hearing
Brad's voice, Ted frantically tried to cover Sam's breasts with the remnants of
her dress.
  
Horrified and ashamed, she
clung to the material. Her sobs jolting him back to reality made him aware of
the act he had just committed.
 
Trance
like, he unlocked and opened the door.

 

          
Light
flooded the room.
 
Like a switchblade,
Brad's eyes went from Ted to Sam and back again, to her panties on the
floor.
  
Seething, with the fervor of a
charging warrior, Brad's blow to Ted's chin sent him crashing to the
floor.
 
Straddling him, he drew back his
fist fully prepared to land another blow,

 

          
Sam’s
pleas stopped him short, “No, Brad, stop!”
 
Suddenly aware of hostility so thick its weight could be felt,
embarrassed and sick to her stomach, she was unable to meet Brad’s eyes.
 
She turned and ran.

 

          
Bending
over, grabbing Ted's shirt with both hands Brad hauled him to his feet.
 
“I ought to kill you, you son of a
bitch.”
 
Hauling him to his feet, he
pitched him onto the couch.
 
Jabbing his
shoulder blade with a pointed finger he spat a warning, “Sit, you bastard.
 
Don't move.”

 

          
Sam’s
crying in the bedroom moved him to the door only to find it locked.
 
Grabbing composure from thin air, he spoke as
softly as he could, “Its O.K., Princess.
 
It's Brad, let me in.”

“No!
 
Go away,” she shrieked.

 

Leaning his forehead against the door, taking a few deep
breaths to steady his rampaging heart, he tried again.
 
“I'll be in the kitchen making coffee to
sober up that asshole friend of mine.
 
After I get him to bed, I want to talk to you.
 
I won't leave until I do, so plan on
it.”
 
Wrapping his bleeding knuckles with
a hanky, he headed for the kitchen.

 

          
After
pouring cup after cup of strong coffee down Ted's throat, Brad pulled him to
his feet.
 
Placing Ted’s arm around his
neck, he circled the living room around and around before exiting the French
doors onto the patio and into the cold air.

 

          
“I
don't know what got into me,” Ted explained remorsefully. “I'm so freaking
drunk and horny.
 
I haven't had a woman
in weeks.
 
I forgot it was, Sam,
honest.
 
I didn't mean to hurt her. I
swear to God.
  
Jesus, Brad, help me make
her understand.
 
I am crazy in love with
her.
  
I couldn't take anymore.
 
I didn't realize what I was doing.
 
I'll get on my hands and knees and beg if I
have to.”

 

          
Angrier
with Ted than he had ever been in his life, with diminutive effort, Brad could
have snapped him in two.
 
“You asshole, you
know damn well what you're like when you have too much to drink, Sam, of all
people, for God's sake.
 
Are you
nuts?
 
She is no match for you.
 
Christ, she's just an innocent kid.
 
Jesus man, you raped her.”

 

          
Ted
shook his head
no his pitiful look convincing
enough to soften Brad slightly.
 
“Forget
it.
 
I'll talk to her.
 
Right now, you’re going to bed to sleep it
off.”
 
 
On
their way to the bedroom, Ted began mumbling, “I didn't rape her, honest,
Brad.
 
Where, in hell, have you
been?
 
Why have you stayed away?
 
I've missed you.”

“You jack ass, I've been working, unlike you, barely keeping our business
above water.
 
Besides I wanted you and
Sam to have some privacy.”

“It's not like that between us.
 
I
mean . . . “
 

 

          
Details
of their sex life, was not what Brad wanted to hear, not now, not ever, he
couldn't bare it.
 
Nevertheless, Ted's
words continued to resonate in his ears.
 
“I haven't had sex in weeks.” With a coolly detached regard, Brad
answered, “We'll talk tomorrow.”

          

          
After
assisting him with a cold shower, Brad dumped Ted in bed, an exasperating habit
he had grown accustomed to over the years.
 
As soon as his head hit the pillow, Ted passed out.
 
There was no mistaking the scratches on his
chest, swollen, and red, as though a she lion had mauled him.
  
On his way to the kitchen, Brad gloated,
“Good for you, half-pint.”

 

          
In
hopes that Sam would come to him on her own, for some time Brad sat in the
kitchen drinking coffee recalling all the awkward situations Ted had gotten him
into.
 
Over the years he‘d straightened
out messes that were unacceptable, this one in particular. He was not all that
sure how he was going to resolve the matter, but one thing was certain he
wasn't about to leave before talking to her.
  

 

          
Holding
a cup of hot coffee to his forehead deep in thought searching for strategy, he
was unaware of Sam's presence in the doorway until he heard the shuffling of
slippers across the kitchen floor.
 
Listlessly approaching the coffee pot, on tiptoes, she stretched to
retrieve a cup from the cupboard.
 

 

          
Approaching
from behind, apparently unheard, Brad softly offered assistance, “Here, let me
help.”
 
Hands reaching simultaneously
grazed each other.
 
As if bitten by a
cobra, Sam recoiled and froze.
 

“It's all right, Princess,” he whispered into hair mere inches away.
 

 

          
Fighting
hysteria from Brad's hot breath brushing the nape of her neck, Sam abruptly
spun around, and stepped back unknowingly trapping herself against the lower
cabinets, for a mere second dazzling blue eyes dove into intriguing black
globes.
 
Considering what happened
earlier, amazingly she felt the oddest leap of her heart.
 
The man standing before her was the very
image of male attraction caught in the prime of youth and strength.

 

          
Teds
oversized terry robe that almost touched her feet she had tugged around
her.
 
A hand, snugly securing the neck of
the robe preventing anyone from seeing any part of her, was clenched tight
against her chest, as though easing the pain there.
 
An arm hugged her waist as tears sought a path
down her cheeks.
 
Raven hair fell unruly
about her face.
 
All signs of makeup were
gone, her eyes, red and puffy.
 
Heart
lurching crazily, Brad stared into doleful eyes full of innocence.
 
What a sweet, innocent child she appeared, a
seductress in an angel's body.
 
All too
well, his mind remembered the slim nubile form beneath the robe. Yes indeed,
she was a great beauty, one that sprang as much from her innocence as from her
flesh.
 

 

          
Fighting
the urge to reach out and touch her, take her into his arms and soothe away her
pain, he stood like a statue in front of her, deliberately maintaining
sufficient space between them.
 

 

          
His
animosity toward Ted returned the moment he raised one hand and she
flinched.
 
“I'm not going to hurt
you.
 
Trust me.”
  
As if in slow motion, easing his thumb to
her cheek he tenderly erased the glittering gems spilling forward.
 
Black lashes closed over blue pools.
 
Face slumped forward into the palms of her
hands covered her anguish.
 
As she
whimpered like a battered child, huge arms encircling her painstakingly inched
her closer the hold loose enough to allow escape if chosen.
 
A faint protest died in her throat emerging
only as a soft moan when she wilted against Brad’s immense chest.
  
While fingers of one hand delicately traced
her scalp and the other patted her back she was vaguely aware of a whispered
conversation-taking place over her head.
 
Soothing was his warm palm moving from between her shoulder blades to
her waist and back again.
 
A touch
pleasant and friendly, as if communicating something she did not understand.
Sensing the sympathy beneath the texture of his jacket, she gave into the
impulse to lean closer, realizing at that moment how much Ted had terrified
her.

 

          
Excitement
whispered along his veins from the fragrance of Sam’s hair filling his senses
and strands, like satin cushioning his welcomed caress.
   
As her body singed through layers of
clothing, he tried to control his violent quaking.
 
He was caught in the center of a whirlpool of
emotions that was sucking him down, spewing him up creating a rapid pulsing of
blood bludgeoning his ears, and tightening his loins.
  
Raising his head heavenward, eyes
squeezed-shut, he prayed for the strength to tame his runaway emotions, how, in
hell, could he blame Ted when his thoughts were no more honorable?

 

          
Sam
did not belong with either of them.
 
She
would never be safe in their world.
 
Their lives never knew such complete innocence.
 
Before it was too late, she had to go home,
but when she did, no one would ever know she would be taking with her a part of
him only she had been able to uncover.
 
A
part kept so deeply hidden even he was unaware of its existence.
 
From this moment on, he would never leave her
unprotected again.

 

          
Somehow
managing to maneuver her into the living room, he positioned her on the couch
beside him, never once releasing her or speaking a word.
 
Curling her slender legs beneath, covering
them with the robe, she snuggled against his warmth until tears evaporated.
 
Even in deep sleep, she continued to sob like
a heart broken child.
 

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