Rose of Betrayal (63 page)

          
“Until
you came along, Brad was the only human I ever admired, respected, and
loved.
 
I was always as if a storm-tossed
sea caught up in turbulence and delirium.
 
He was the ship sailing steadily in one direction with a mission, with
serenity.
 
We were quite a pair.
 
In his own way, Brad guided me, kept me out
of trouble, and gave me the sanity I needed to resist leaping off life's
edge.
 
When he was unable to keep me out
of trouble, he joined me in my battles, nursed by drunken stupors even took the
blame.
 
Brad exemplified the person I
desired to be.
 
It was a difficult,
lengthy task concluding it wasn't meant to be.”

           
For
a moment, Ted's sorrow snared his voice.
 
Sam could see him quake.
 
Tears
teetered on his lashes.
 
When his eyes
met hers again, as he spoke of Brad, a gentleness she never knew he possessed
lurked within them.
 

           
“Brad
became the parents who never had time for me.
 
Oh, yes, I was their precious only child, but they believed being a good
parent was making sure I received every materialistic thing I ever wanted, or
ever dreamed.
 
That an entourage of care
providers would tend to my every whim and, of course, they did.
 
He was the brother they refused to give
me.
 
Everything a woman like you would
admire, respect, possibly even love.
 
I
knew eventually the two of you would meet that I would not stand a chance with
you if you believed him to be everything in truth he is, and you are everything
he deserves in life.”

           
As
Ted's words vibrated the air, their bodies drew even with each other, embracing
as if it were the last time.
 
His finger
lifted Sam's chin so he could look again into the bottomless wells of
blue.
 
His mouth grazed hers with a hint
of a kiss.
 
It never ceased to amaze him
how just the slightest touch of her body drove this heart wild.
 
Hands resting on her hips, he quenched his
thirst with her loveliness as if he had been lost in a desert.

           
Sam's
arms inched around his neck.
 
A small
conciliatory smile broke the straight firm lines of her mouth, more as a token
gesture.

           
One
of his hands moved to her stomach in a slow circular movement massaging the
small firm bulge.
 
A heart wrenching
melancholy filled his eyes.
 
His words
strained with feeling.
 
“Believe me, my
love, when I tell you this, I never loved a woman before you.
 
I had no idea how to act with you.
 
I know now I did everything wrong.
 
This is my chance to right those
wrongs.”
 

           
Unable
to look into Sam's eyes, Ted's glance lowered, his lids draped as he inhaled
another deep fortifying breath the force of which expelled shattering
words.
 
“I was the one who raped Candy,”
a confession bringing about a gasp, widening blue eyes, and parting ruby lips
in disbelief, movement or speaking was impossible.
 
She wanted to run, to scream, to - hug him,
soothe his tattered soul, but couldn't.
 
She felt like a marionette dangling in mid-air by strings being snipped
one by one with each word he uttered.

           
“Candy
came on to Brad that night.
 
We were all
so drunk he passed out.
 
I came to
realize when it was too late she truly loved him and he her.
 
Don't you see I ruined their relationship
just as I have between the two of you?”

           
Candy
had not told her everything, Sam whimpered inwardly. She came to the studio out
of her love for Brad.
 
Apparently,
everyone knew Brad loved her, everyone except herself.
 

           
Hearing
the thunder of Ted's heart, she could not bear any more, his remorse the
tearing to shreds type.
 
Quickly her
fingers covered his mouth.
  

           
When
Ted reached to remove her hand, his were cold and shaking.
 
“I know, Samantha.
 
I have known all along that you love each
other.
 
You see, my love, he would never
have left if it was not true, never have we been separated.
 
He was afraid because he was the only one who
saw that part of me so full of reckless self-destruction.
 
Although he would never admit it, I believe
he left you behind thinking you could heal my soul.
 
He did what I could not have done, and you,
my darling, how could you give me what was never in your heart.

           
“I’ve
always taken.
 
Brad gives to the point of
sacrificing your destiny together.
 
All I
have ever given him is trouble.
 
Now it
is my turn to prove to him, to you, in some small way I was worthy of such
extraordinary love.
  
For once in my life
I have to do, what I feel is right.
 
I
owe it to him, to you.
 
You'll both
understand when it's over.”

The blue whirlpools
spilled their stinging waters down Sam's flushed cheeks.
 
Ted's thumb swept them away just as Brad had
done, and for the first time she saw Brad in him.
 
Her heart swelled.
 
Before she could speak, he kissed her again
passionately bringing to life a spark of pure love that reached deep within her
womb to kiss their unborn child.
 

           
With
his hand laid against her cheek, his thumb beneath her chin he held her face
reverently.
 
She could feel him holding
back the desire in his body.
 
Thoughts
flooded her, maybe there was a chance for them after all.
 
Oh yes, dear God yes, she thought, as she
desperately held on to that tiny spark, if for no other reason than for their
child.
 

           
She
did love Ted, not in the same passionate way she loved Brad, but maybe in time
if they tried their marriage might mend.
 
If Ted knew about the baby, knew she was willing to try again perhaps it
would give him hope, that is if he wanted to after she confessed her sin.
 
Before she could speak, his finger sealed her
lips.

           
“One
more thing, my darling, take good care of the baby inside you, conceived with
love he was, and will grow into a mirrored image of his father.
 
To my regret, when I realized I could never
be the father I longed to be, I made certain I would never produce a
child.
 
It was wrong of me not to tell
you, selfish of me to deceive you.
 
I
wanted only you because I thought that would be enough.
 
I was foolish to believe I could fulfill your
every need.
 
I never dreamed you could be
more beautiful than you already are.
 
Brad proved me wrong when he placed his seed inside you.”

           
Sparks
like a thousand stars swirling before Sam's eyes made her lids flutter as if
welcoming the blackness rushing her.
 
She
swayed against Ted.
 
Her heartbeat
stopped for an instant.
 
Truth took on a
sphere of joy like a shock of electricity reviving her with its dizzying
surge.
 
She was carrying Brad's
child.
 

           
After
she regained equilibrium, he continued, “At first I was overwhelmed with the
most terrible jealousy I’ve ever known.
 
My heart ached so bad I wanted to kill him, you.
 
Then, I sought my revenge through the
child.
 
I wanted it to be mine, so much;
I was willing to allow both of you to believe it was.
 
However, in time I knew I could never live
with such a lie.
 
I guess a little of
Brad rubbed off on me after all.

           
The
three of you belong together.
 
I want you
to be happy.
 
I'm setting you free.
 
Don't cry for me, sweetness.
 
It was enough for me to have you love me
once.
 
One thing is for certain, in spite
of everything, my heart and my love will always be hopelessly yours, Brad was
right, you are a Princess, Sam.
 
The only
problem was you chose the wrong prince.
 
Forgive me.”

           
Shock
had not loosened its grip on Sam's body.
 
She felt totally out of her depth, limp with reaction and
exhaustion.
 
She hurt for Ted, for Brad,
for herself, her child.
 
There was so much
to assimilate, so much to come to terms with that, before she could speak he
was gone.

           
Sinking
to the couch she wondered how Ted found out about the baby, and at what point
he knew.
 
Had he really mentioned
danger?
 
What mess did he get into?
 
He could not leave her like this, dear God,
the gun.

           
Leaping
off the couch, she ran to the door hoping to catch him before the elevator
arrived.
 
She had to tell him she
understood, that she had already forgiven him, that a part of her really loved
him.
 
She had to say good-bye.
 

           
Just
as her fingertips touched the doorknob a bulky muscular hand, so large it
covered her eyes, nose and mouth halted her.
 
A forearm, as powerful as steel, encasing her waist jerked her against a
sturdy body.
 
The smell of tobacco and
whiskey mingled with a satanic laugh piercing her body with knives of
terror.
 
The form holding her, savoring
her, easily held her immobile.
 

           
As
his laughter increased, she screamed louder, struggled harder.
 
Biting at his calloused fingers only
increased demonic sounds.
 
Realizing how
much he was enjoying her reactions she lapsed into mutinous silence hoping to
save her strength for later when she challenged him face to face.
 
Feeling his penis probing her backside, she
wondered what kind of man he was.
 
Could
he be as evil as her instincts told her he was?
 
All too soon, she’d discover he was, when he carried her effortlessly
into the bedroom.

CHAPTER 50

“JULY, 2011”

           
Feeling
like the only astronaut on the moon, Brad believed never before was the
 
atmosphere so thin, the forest so dense, the
rocky inclines so arduous to climb, his knees throbbed from hefting feet
seeming to weigh a ton.
 
   
The familiar trail traversed numerous times
before took on an altogether different manifestation.
  
It must have been the lewd jokes, the games,
the jeering, the stops for rests offering the opportunity to jostle in the
creek, chance rabbits, find snakes.
 
Then, years later, a cold can of beer, combined with Ted's presence
lending the air of ease.

           
It
took longer than anticipated to get home, securing tickets, airport hassles,
along with the slow ride to the ranch, all scraped at the sore oozing since
figuring it out.
 
Time seemed to drag and
hang suspended throughout collecting provisions, hours when he became more
withdrawn wondering if he had made the right decision.
 
His nagging conscience finally convinced him
he had.
 
His parents would have never
believed him if he told them the truth, so he justified his trip into the
mountains as a retreat to rethink his future.

           
Despite
a mind nearing a comatose state, automatically one foot propelled in front of
the other.
 
Like an invisible companion,
his voice echoed off boulders with words composed by frustration and
despair.
 
Grief brought on a lethargy
making his progress like that of a snail.
 
Sooner or later, he would make it, he reasoned.