Indiscretion

by Anderson, Callie

  She fidgeted with her fingers and smiled wanly. “I just want to get this done and over with.”

  “Follow me.” I led Mackenzie to the back conference room, closed the door behind her, and grabbed a bottle of water from the continental breakfast brought in for our meeting. “Here, drink this. I’ll be with you the whole time, so just imagine that you’re talking to me, telling me the story.” Pulling a chair out across from her, I claimed my seat.

  “And what about at the trial? Will you be there as well?”

  “First, we have to go through discovery, where we collect all the information. That’s happening right now. We may need to set up a deposition later this week to officially record the information you’re presenting and share it with the defense. Then we go to pre-trial with the judge. Mr. Goldstein will go into further detail with you, but if we don’t settle at that time and end up having to go to trial, I’ll make sure to find a seat across from you so you can look directly at me. If it gets that far, Mr. Goldstein and the rest of his team will prep you for court, so don’t stress about that.”

  “And when do I give you the check?” she asked. She seemed a bit calmer.

  “Mr. Goldstein will let you know. Once we’re finished today, we’ll be reaching out to Boris Zolin, who’ll most likely be subpoenaed. Again, Mr. Goldstein will fill you in on everything.”

  There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and three associates and Howard came in, taking the chairs around us. “I’m right here,” I mouthed to her. She bit her lower lips nervously, as she tried to smile back at me.

  “Ms. Adams, thank you for joining us,” Howard announced. Taking her hand, he shook it before he sat beside me. “Now, this may seem a bit overwhelming, but we are all here for the same reason. I assure you, I’ll attempt to make this as painless as possible for you. Katherine has filled us all in, but now we need you to tell us what happened.”

  Mackenzie looked at me for guidance, and I nodded. Her eyes were glued to mine as she began her story. Howard stopped her at certain points, asking her to elaborate, and by noon we had everything we needed. Howard told her he needed the check before the pre-trial conference on Friday, and Mackenzie agreed to bring it to the deposition later in the week.

  “Do you want to grab lunch?” she asked as I walked her out to the elevator.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t. You just added about eight hours of paperwork for me to do—paperwork I’ll very much enjoy doing,” I joked. I didn’t want her to have any doubts about it.

  “Sorry. I hope it’s not complicated.” The elevator doors opened.

  “No, not complicated. If you need anything, just call me or Victoria, or even Howard. We will all be here if you need anything.”

  “Evan doesn’t know I’m involved yet, does he?”

  “No, but his attorney will know before the end of the day.” I hugged her and waved goodbye, letting the door close. I returned to the conference room, where I planned to remain for the next few hours while I did everyone’s grunt work.

  “Katherine,” Howard called from his office as I passed.

  I peeked my head in. “Yes, sir?”

  “Take a seat.” He pointed to the chairs across his desk, and I sat. “I just wanted to thank you. You saved this case. From the beginning, you’ve been very hands-on and committed. You have excelled as an intern. I don’t know how you found Mackenzie, or what you did to convince her to do this, but you’re going to be an outstanding lawyer.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Know that once you pass the bar, you have an associate position here waiting for you. I know you’ll make a great asset to our team.”

  I left Howard’s office walking taller. I was the reason this case had a fighting chance, and my hard work had not gone unnoticed. I took a wrap from our catered lunch, pulled out my chair, and settled in. It would be hours before I moved again.

  I sat and reviewed all the paperwork, noting everything that needed to be changed. By the time I pushed off the chair, my neck ached. I returned to my desk, logged off my computer, and retrieved my belongings. My watch said it was already eight-thirty. I held the bridge of my nose and let my eyelids drift shut as I waited for the elevator to arrive. Hours of staring at a computer screen and small font legal briefs had exhausted my eyes.

  The night air was cooler than it had been over the past few days. I breathed it in and steeled myself. Lila’s shift had ended at eight, so she was scheduled to be home when I got there. I figured it would be a perfect ending to my day to hash out our argument once and for all. It was not like us to go this long without speaking, and I needed to apologize for what I said to her.

  The walk from the office to my home seemed longer than usual tonight, but it was only because I was so exhausted. I was in desperate need of a glass of wine and my bed. Turning up my block, I heard my cell chirp inside my purse.

  I had two missed text messages, one from Cole and another from a number I didn’t recognize. The first text was blank, so I deleted it and moved on to Cole’s. I slid my finger across the screen and opened his text message,

  Cole Hunter: Really? She has a check? The asshole committed fraud. There is no way I can win this. You couldn’t have given me a heads up?

  I hit the reply button and looked up. My feet stopped dead in its track when I was met with his eyes. The exact same brown eyes, which had haunted me for the last fifteen years of my life.

  Rooted to the ground bile filled my throat. He stood from the step and looked over at me. A grin grew on his face, and my stomach sank.

  “Katherine.” He said my name as if he was a long-lost father, not the monster that terrorized my soul. “You look great.”

  “What are you doing here, Gary?” I asked, and my voice was barely a whisper. Unshed tears clouded my eyes, and I blinked them away afraid as to why he was there.

  “I… Um…” He scratched the back of his neck. He still looked the same, older with a rotund stomach. His hair was peppered and balding at the top. Time had passed, but he was still the devil. “I… um…”

  “You said that already.” My fear was consumed by anger. Why was he here? After all this time, why now?

  “Right, sorry.” He cleared his throat and moved his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sober and have been for the last two years.” He said lifting up his chip for me to see. “Step 8 to recovery is making amends with those I’ve harmed.”

  “Go away.” I shook my head not wanting him to finish. There would be no amending between us.

  “Katherine, please.” He stepped forward, and I took a step back. I was petrified of the man in front of me. He was the demon in my story, and no amount of apology was going to take that away. “I know what I did to you was wrong, but I’ve stopped drinking.” He forced a smile on his face. “I’m better now.”

  Bile rose up my throat, and I forced it down. “Funny,” I quipped. “I don’t remember AA being for pedophiles.”

  “Please.” He folded his hand under his chin. “All I’m asking for is forgiveness.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “I’m better now. I’ve stopped drinking.”

  “Don’t you dare justify what you did to me with a twelve step AA Program. You’re a monster, Gary. What you took from me is unforgivable, and no amount of AA is going to fix that.”

  “I’m better now.”

  “Go away, Gary!” I pointed to the street. “Get the fuck out of my life. I will never forgive you for what you did to me,” I said between sobs, “Ever. And I hope you burn in hell for all eternity.”

  Without a fight, he turned around and walked over to a parked car. When the taillights were at the end of the block, I bent my body in half and emptied the contents of my stomach. All of the composure I’d had in front of him was gone, and all that was left was darkness.

  The memories suffocated me. His voice bellowed in my ears, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. My throat was hoarse, and I ran inside the house desperate to esca
pe what I had encountered. My hands shook as I forced the key into the lock.

  “Lila.” I hollered and slammed the door shut. I tossed my purse on the floor and kicked my heels off. “Lila!” I cried out.

  The house was dark and empty just like me. I ran down the hallway to her bedroom. Gently, I tapped on the door. “Li?” My voice cracked, and I felt the impending panic.

  Inhaling all the air my lungs could take, I sprinted to the kitchen. I skipped the freezer and yanked the fridge door. My hand laced around a bottle of chardonnay and with the other I twisted the top off.

  I chugged it back till the back of my throat burned.

  I needed the memories to stop. I needed to block on the flashes on Gary out of my mine.

  I sighed as I tried to keep the wine in my stomach. Tears stained my cheeks, and I walked back to the living room. Alone in the dark house, I sat on the couch. Why had he come back?

  The door creaked opened to my bedroom. His weight pushed against the squeaking wood floor.

  “Mom?” I whispered wiping the sleep off my face.

  “Shh,” Gary whispered and moved closer to my bed.

  “Stop!” I screamed and shook the memory from my mind. My palms pressed against my eyes until it hurt from the pressure. “Please go away,” I begged.

  Standing, I walked over to my purse and grabbed my cell phone. With trembling fingers, I dialed Cole. “Please answer.” I sank to the floors. When his voicemail picked up, I hung up and dialed Lila. I needed someone to talk me off the ledge, someone to hear my cry for help.

  “You reached, Lila—” Her voicemail picked up, and I hung up. I tossed my phone to the side and sobbed.

  “Don’t cry, Katy,” Gary said, and I could smell the liquor on his breath. “It won’t hurt for long.”

  “Fuck!” I cursed and pushed my body off the floor. Running to the bathroom, I emptied all the wine I had consumed. My body heaved, and I gasped for air. “Please stop. Please stop.” I ran my hands through my hair and tugged against my scalp.

  I’d spent years shutting these memories from my mind. Knowing that I had control over my own body. I was worth more than what he had done to me.

  “You little bitch. You know you like it.” He tugged on my ankles. “Stop fucking crying.”

  “Ah!” I looked up at the ceiling and screamed till my throat was hoarse.

  Desperate to make it all stop, I knew there was one way to make it all go away. My stomach turned again as I pushed my bedroom door and sat on the bed. My eyes locked on the drawer. I knew it held a little orange bottle that would make it all go away.

  “If you tell anyone, they won’t believe you. No one believes a slut.”

  I couldn’t shut my brain off. I couldn’t stop it from suffocating me.

  There are ten pills in the plastic medicine bottle. One will do nothing for my pain. Two will help me fall asleep. Three will put me at the edge of the abyss. But four will numb everything.

  I shook five pills in my hand and tossed them all in my mouth. The chalky residue sat on my tongue, and I welcomed its bitter taste. I bit into the pills knowing that it would help them dissolve faster into my bloodstream. My legs were shaking as I forced myself to stand. Slowly I walked to the bathroom, my hands held on to the wall for stability, and I lowered my mouth to the faucet and sipped back the water.

  When I stood and looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl who reflected back at me. My sobriety was gone. The darkness had pulled me in, and I couldn’t escape it. This was the only way I could keep the memories away. It was the only way to protect myself from the pain Gary had caused.

  My hands tingled, my skin flushed, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the old Katherine returned.

  Redemption

  Want more of Katherine and Cole?

  Read Redemption now.

  Also by Callie Anderson

  Torrid Affair

  Blurb

  I’m fucked.

  The life I have lived for the past ten years is built solely on lies and secrets.

  But I can’t help myself.

  I’m in love with two different men. And one of them is my brother-in-law.

  He’s my drug. My fire. My addiction.

  But he’s married to my best friend. And I’m married to my husband.

  I’m not ashamed. I have no guilt.

  None.

  I’m not fucked. I’m a fucked up person.

  This is the story of how I ruined my life.

  And the life of the one I loved most.

  Part One

  My life was a black hole.

  Trapped in a loveless marriage, I was empty, numb. Oblivious to it all.

  Until him.

  He was the spark that brought me back from the abyss. He was my fire.

  But our love was forbidden.

  Between the lies, that fire began to take over my soul. That need to feel wanted had me escaping my life, running toward him no matter the consequences.

  They say you shouldn’t play with fire.

  But I needed to feel the burn.

  Chapter 1

  Brielle

  Present

  I sit on my king-size bed and stare at the dull white wall. It’s the only wall in my bedroom I haven’t decided what to do with. When we moved into this apartment, Julian and I couldn't figure out what to put there. At the time I thought it would be a perfect spot for a bassinet. Now I shake my head at the memory. Eight years have passed since then. Ten years since he first knocked on my door.

  I draw up my legs and rest my chin on my knee, the empty wine glass held up by my fingertips. My gaze is still glued on the two coats of eggshell paint that covers the drywall. My throat suddenly tightens and I blink as a lone tear falls down my cheek.

  He’s late.

  Again.

  The sad part is that I don’t have to look at the clock. I know it's past midnight. I can feel it deep in my gut. Something is off. Something's always wrong when he’s late.

  My heart races as I think of all the places he could be at this very moment but the fading purple bruises on my arms and the scar on my left cheek remind me why I don't let my mind go there anymore.

  I learned not to ask questions.

  I glance down at my large diamond engagement ring that sits next to my wedding band and I lower my chin to my chest, swallowing back a sob. How is this a better life?

  He came back for me. He was there when I needed him most. And I made a vow. So I look at my blank wall. It's a reminder of what I am now. Empty and alone. Perhaps that’s why I chose not to do anything to it. It’s depressing, like my life.

  Misery loves company.

  My stomach turns. I’m desperate to know what time it is, so I pull my gaze away from the wall and over to my clock.

  It's a quarter to one.

  I pour myself another glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

  ***

  My phone vibrates under the down comforter. The alcohol swooshes through my body and I’m woozy. The bright light blurs my vision and I squint at the screen.

  Julian: I’m running late. I’ll be home soon.

  I scoff and toss my phone. He texts me now? It’s almost two in the morning. I reach toward my nightstand for the bottle of wine.

  I don’t cry because I hate my life.

  I don’t cry because I no longer know the person who stares back at me in the mirror.

  I cry because I realize the wine bottle is empty.

  I fall to the floor as the tears cloud my vision and let out a guttural scream. I had dreams. I wanted a different life. I didn’t deserve this!

  I push myself off the floor and walk through the cold house. Reaching the bar, I open the bottle of Jameson and chug it back, letting the burn soothe my hurt. Anything to escape my reality.

  Anything to make me feel numb.

  I brush my lips with the back of my hand and focus on my art supplies that I left in the corner. After dinner I played with the canvas I was wo
rking on since Julian didn’t come home. A faint smirk touches my mouth.

  Oh, how different my life was supposed to be. I wanted to be an artist. The dream of majoring in art and moving to Europe to work at the Louvre was also taken away from me. I wanted to see the world. Instead, I was working at a local paint supply store where I, on occasion, painted wall murals in nurseries.

  If I could go back and find that one crack, that first chip, the one that ultimately broke us . . .

  Nathaniel.

  Not a what, but a who. He shattered my heart and my soul.

  He shattered me.

  This was all his fucking fault.

  My bare feet slap against the hardwood floor as I march to my paint. Though I feel the effects of the alcohol, I push past it and grab a brush and gallon. Half drunk, half depressed, I stumble back to my bedroom and toward the dull white wall.

  Once I finish, I drop the brush and crawl back to bed. My head woozy, I pull the covers over my body. The hallway light flicks on and I know Julian is home. The second he steps into our bedroom I smell cheap perfume. He was with someone tonight. The musky scent of sex wafts through the air. New tears pool in my eyes.

  I need to leave. I need to get out of here. But my own demons keep me here.

  I keep my eyes closed as he undresses. The endless possibilities of where he has been begin to haunt me. When the shower turns on I go after him. I can't keep living like this.

  I kick the door open and my gaze lands on his. I gasp. Not because he is standing over the sink regarding me like a trespasser, but because of the scratches on his back. I know those types of marks. They’re the ones you make on a man to let his wife know she's not the only woman he fucks.

  Tears pool in my eyes and my vision blurs. “You bastard.” The words slip out of my mouth. “Who is she?” My voice is hoarse.

  Julian turns to face me. He’s naked and the sight of him makes my stomach turn. “It's not what you think.”

  “I don't deserve this, you selfish prick! You’re a worthless excuse of a man!”