Saving Her

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Saving Her Page 13

by B E Brouillard


  The longer she went without saying a word, the more enraged he seemed to become. Eventually, the tension grew too much…with a last look of pure venom aimed at her, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room.

  Desirée fell back against the bank of pillows behind her and let out a shuddering breath. Then drew another in. She raised her hands and covered her face with them, trying desperately to steady her breathing.

  She couldn’t go back to their little apartment. There was no way she was going to carry on with that life now.

  She reached for her phone and dialed her mother’s number.

  Chapter 10

  “Hey, Mom!” Desirée called as she headed in through the front door after the taxi had dropped her off. Her own car was still at the apartment, and she made a mental note to collect it. The prospect filled her with dread.

  It was unusual for her mother to have left the house unlocked. A strange car parked outside gave Desirée an uncomfortable feeling. The sleek sedan shone with a ‘fresh off the showroom floor’ gleam that made her doubt its occupants were dangerous. But of course, criminals drove fancy cars too. She frowned.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m here, dear,” her mother’s voice called out. The aroma of food cooking was heavy in the air. “Out on the patio. Come join us.”

  ‘Us?’ Desirée mused, still frowning as she dropped her bags in the living room and headed out to the patio. Her face dropped.

  “Ben,” she said bluntly.

  “Say hello, dear! Your brother’s come all the way up from the coast for a visit. Isn’t that lovely?” Her mother’s voice reflected the joy on her beaming face.

  “Hey, Ben,” Desirée muttered. Her brother rose from his seat and enveloped her in a bear hug.

  “Dee-Dee! Baby!” he boomed. She was older than him by several years, but he had always hung onto the role of big brother. More because he liked to see himself as the family patriarch than out of any brotherly affection to her.

  “Don’t call me that,” Desirée muttered, a cloud of annoyance descending.

  Unperturbed, her brother took her hand in an iron grip and dragged her, resisting, to sit beside him. “Dee-Dee, I’ve missed you, girl! How have you been?” Desirée cast a glance over at her mother, who shrugged and said nothing.

  “Well, apart from the miscarriage and the last couple of days in hospital, I guess I’m okay,” Desirée said, her mouth twisting slightly. Ben ruffled her hair.

  “Oh yeah, Ma told me about that. Tough break, kid,” he said, standing and heading towards the small bar counter in the corner. “Get you a drink?” he asked, as if she hadn’t just told him she’d lost her baby.

  ‘Fuck it,’ thought Desirée, ‘nothing stopping me now.’ She nodded, and he splashed a shot of bourbon into a glass, handing it to her before pouring one for himself.

  “One for you, Ma?” He turned to their mother, who was perched on the edge of her chair like a bird, watching his every move. Her baby boy could do no wrong.

  “Oh, silly boy, you know I don’t touch that stuff!” she simpered.

  ‘Figures,’ thought Desirée. Sometimes she thought her mother kept a fully stocked bar just so she could look disapprovingly at anyone who had the nerve to accept a drink in her home. Although when it came to Ben, these rules didn’t apply. She watched as her mother’s eyes softened as they settled on her son.

  “Yeah, so anyways, miscarriages suck,” said Desirée sourly, refusing to let them off the hook. Her mother shot her a disapproving look, but she was feeling particularly uncharitable right now. She hadn’t wanted to stay with her mother after she left the hospital, but the apartment was leased in Jules’s name and there was no place else to go. At the very least, she’d hoped to be able to settle into the old room she remembered as a teenager and sleep until the black cloud over her head dissipated a bit.

  “Well, of course, dear,” her mother’s words intruded into her thoughts. “But you know, everything happens for a reason. This baby just wasn’t meant to be. You’ll be grateful for it when you understand. And who knows, there may have been an underlying issue…a physical condition. You wouldn’t want to raise a child with a disability, now would you? A freak?”

  Desirée turned astonished eyes to the woman on the chair in front of her. Insensitivity was so ingrained in her mother’s personality that she was seldom surprised by anything she said, but right now, her nerves were raw. Those words raked across her bleeding heart like razor blades on soft flesh. She bit back a sharp retort, feeling the shutters clanging down around her fragile emotions like high-security doors. She raised her glass and downed her bourbon in one large gulp, gasping a little as it scorched a trail down her throat.

  “Goodness, dear! Is that wise?” her mother asked wide-eyed. Ben chuckled and followed suit, licking his lips as he got up to refill their glasses. Desirée watched him, remembering a time when they’d been fond of each other. She’d seen him as a kindred spirit. A fellow survivor of their dysfunctional youth. Time had changed him.

  No.

  If she was honest, he’d never changed. She had changed…had come to see him as he truly was. The charming exterior that masked a deeply entrenched selfishness that allowed him to trample anyone who got in the way of what he wanted. She knew there was very little Ben wouldn’t say or do to turn a situation to suit himself. It had taken several years of being burned by his persistently self-serving behavior before she’d finally caved…she didn’t want him in her world. There’d been too many little incidents that cost her dearly for her to allow him back into a place where he could take advantage of her.

  For a moment, the knowledge made her sit back. He was just like Jules. Charming when he was getting what he wanted, and utterly cruel when things didn’t go his way. Was this what she was attracting to herself? These pathologically insensitive men who fed off her?

  Was this what he was after? The incubus? Was he feeding off her? It’s what Mr. Brixton had warned her about. The demon spirits who sucked their victims dry. She didn’t feel ‘sucked dry’ with him, though. In fact, he was one of the few who made her feel nourished, like she was worthy…like she deserved to be loved.

  Her head whirled. Part of her still resisted the idea of him. Yet he’d become as real to her as the people in this room with her. She sensed that he actually knew her better.

  “…dinner, dear? Desirée!” her mother’s voice broke into her thoughts. She shook her head and looked up. Somehow, she’d emptied the second glass her brother had given her, and he was refilling her glass for the third time. She hadn’t heard a word of their conversation for several minutes.

  “Sorry, Mom, what?” she asked. Her mother rolled her eyes.

  “I said, are you ready for dinner, dear? Ben will be staying, and I’ve planned his favorite,” she glanced at him and her face softened, “roast pork and vegetables with all the trimmings. There’s a cherry pie for dessert, too.” Her eyes were still on him, as if waiting for his approval. He grinned and draped an arm over her shoulder, giving her a squeeze.

  “Sounds fantastic, Ma,” he said. “Best ever!” Desirée was sure her mother’s knees had turned weak. She literally glowed as she led her son to the dining room table, seating him at the head and setting her glass of fruit juice at the place to his right.

  “Dee-Dee, darling,” she said, and Desirée was sure it was designed to annoy, “why don’t you take a seat at the other end of the table?” Desirée noticed that the table was set for six, and was about to ask who would be joining them when a call echoed out from the front entrance.

  “Helloooo!” a woman’s voice called out. Desirée recognized it immediately. Her mother’s neighbor, Cathy Lacy, was a regular visitor. Desirée breathed a sigh of relief. Cathy was always a breath of fresh air. And she would probably have her husband in tow. Brian Lacy was the perfect match for his vivacious wife. Both in their late sixties, they’d traveled the world and had endless stories of exotic destinations to share. Dinner parties were al
ways fun with them around.

  ‘But who was the final table setting for?’ Desirée wondered.

  Ben had left the room to welcome their guests. At the same time, a car engine outside caught her attention. She frowned.

  ◆◆◆

  “Dee-Dee!” Ben’s voice boomed from the front of the house. “Dee-Dee, your boyfriend’s here.”

  A familiar voice joined her brother’s in the hallway. Desirée felt her heart plummet as if it was weighed down with a stone.

  No!

  She can’t be doing this!

  Her mother had invited Jules for dinner.

  What the actual fuck?

  Marlene Wright turned to her daughter with a smile of pure innocence. “I hope you don’t mind, dear?” she said. “I think the two of you should try to patch things up.” As she brushed past her daughter, she took a deep breath and sniffed, then murmured quietly, “You might want a dash of fragrance, dear, you smell like a hospital.”

  Desirée stood at the table, flabbergasted. They hadn’t had much time to go into detail on the phone before she arrived, but she’d given her mother a fairly clear explanation of what was happening between her and Jules. Without the dirty details, of course. She couldn’t believe the woman would try to put them in the same room.

  “Are you kidding, Mom?” she asked, her words sharp and quick. She hoped her expression conveyed at least a fraction of her fury, but her mother seemed oblivious.

  “Now you know, darling, every couple has problems. I think it would be wise for you to give Jules a chance to share his side of things. You’re not getting any younger, you know. You don’t want to get old all alone.” Desirée stared at her mother, speechless.

  “Mom! You’re alone,” she bit out.

  “That’s not true, Desirée,” Marlene snapped back. “I have Norman. We’ve been together for 20 years, which is more than can be said for you!”

  “Oh, really?” replied Desirée, no longer fighting down a vicious urge to strike back. She could sense Cathy and Brian shifting uncomfortably in the face of a family argument, but she was too angry to be quiet. “Norman’s been in a nursing home for months. After you put him there. He’s been begging to come home since you abandoned him!” Desirée had never been extremely close to her stepfather; he’d been significantly older than her mother when they married and hadn’t bonded with his stepchildren. In fact, he and Ben had fought violently. However, when her mother had shared the news that he was senile and needed to be institutionalized, Desirée had been astonished. During her visits to him at the dingy, soulless frail-care center, he’d always been lucid...and afraid.

  “He’s virtually a vegetable,” her mother responded. “Not to mention the trouble he put me through before he left. So difficult. So argumentative. Accusing me of ridiculous things…like having a boyfriend! Could you imagine the nerve? I was afraid for my safety. And there was no way I could take care of him. He was…like a child! I had to feed him. Dress him. He wet the bed!”

  Desirée remained mute in the face of her mother’s tirade. Cathy and Brian had discreetly left the room to take a seat on the patio. She could hear their hushed murmurs. Knew they were talking about what was going on inside.

  “In sickness and in health, remember, Mom?” she shot back. “In any event, you’re as alone as I am right now!” Her mother never got the chance to respond. Ben was walking into the room, followed closely by Jules.

  “Jules!” her mother replied, reaching both hands out to the man who’d followed her son through the door. He strode to her and brushed her upturned cheek with his lips.

  “Marlene,” he replied. “It’s wonderful to see you. Thank you for the invitation. It smells like you’ve got some amazing things cooking up!” He inhaled appreciatively. Desirée simmered with rage. Jules turned to her and smiled warmly. Lovingly. As if their last exchange had never happened. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “My love,” he murmured as he crossed the room to her, curling an arm around her waist and pulling her stiff body close for a kiss. “I’ve missed you so much. How are you feeling?” Desirée simply had no words. “I think we should have a chat when we go home after dinner.” He kept his arm tightly around her waist, ignoring her resistance.

  ‘Home?’ she thought. ‘He expects me to go back there?’ It was as if he was in denial about the whole episode. Was he so reliant on keeping her as his doormat?

  “Why don’t you take a seat next to Dee-Dee?” Ben interrupted before she had a chance to object. Jules was taking a seat and had a hand on her wrist, tugging her to sit down. Everything in her wanted to fight, but as the Laceys filtered back into the room, she struggled with herself, not wanting to cause more of a scene. This had been the pattern of her entire life…pushed to the point of explosion, and then having her emotions stifled with manipulations and ‘social protocols’. Her mother was a master of the practice, and her brother had learned the skill from her. Within moments, everyone was seated. Desirée reached for her glass and downed the last of her drink.

  This was going to be a long night.

  ◆◆◆

  “So, Desirée, your mother tells us you’re enjoying your work at the school?” Cathy asked as they served up their meal. Marlene had set the roast in the center of the table, and Ben was doing the honors of carving.

  “Yes, I love it there,” Desirée replied, sliding her hand off the table as Jules tried to put his fingers over hers. She reached across towards a nearby wine bottle and filled her glass, ignoring her mother’s hard stare. “The school is—"

  “She’s still there,” Marlene interrupted before she could finish her sentence. “Been years now. You’d think they’d have offered her a promotion or something.” She rolled her eyes. “Though I imagine there’s not much scope for growth as an administrator of a catholic school.” Cathy’s husband, Brian, focused on the plate in front of him studiously. Desirée could tell he was almost as uncomfortable as she was.

  “But that’s lovely, Des,” Cathy continued. “Working with children. Dedicating your time to all the good work that school is doing. That’s—”

  “Did I tell you that Ben has a new contract?” Marlene broke in. “He’s been assigned as project manager for a new construction. They’re paying him an absolute fortune!” She turned doting eyes to her son, who sat at her side.

  “That’s wonderful, Marlene,” Cathy smiled back. “You must be so proud. Such lovely children.”

  “Sure. Happy families,” Desirée mumbled under her breath.

  “What was that?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I said ‘Happy families’,” Desirée answered, casting a baleful glance at her brother, who’d been sharing small-talk with Jules since his arrival.

  “Wind it in, babe,” Jules said now, firmly taking her hand in his. “Don’t make a scene.”

  “Make a scene?” Desirée snapped back. “What the fuck do you mean by that? You’re making a scene just by being here!”

  “Desirée!” her mother gasped. “Mind your manners!”

  “Or what, Mom” she demanded. “You’ll send me to my room without supper? Please do that. I’d be happier locked away from this fucking charade. Why did you invite this…bastard to share a meal with us?”

  “You’re in no position to be casting aside perfectly good men at your age, you foolish girl!” Her mother snapped. “At your age, I had a husband and two children. What do you have to show for yourself?”

  “I have my pride, Mother!” Desirée’s voice was ice. “There’s more to life than being married. And when I am ready, I will find the right man for myself. Someone wonderful.” Jules had the good sense to stay silent.

  “Really, dear?” Marlene responded, just as coolly. “And why would someone wonderful want to be with you?”

  “You bitch!” Desirée snapped back.

  “And you…you are a child of Satan!” her mother spat back. “I don’t know how I could have created something as evil as you! It’s a good th
ing you didn’t have that baby. It would have been just the same.”

  Desirée’s eyes widened, speechless for a moment. Brian cleared his throat, and his wife gave him a small shake of her head. She was no stranger to the tension in the Wright household and tonight it appeared that a lot of things were coming to a head.

  “Desirée,” Ben took charge of the conversation as if it was his right. “I won’t have you talking to our mother like that. Show some respect!”

  “Respect?” Desirée turned to him. “Like the respect I’m being shown here tonight? Listening to her poison? Having to sit next to this man without throwing up? You have no idea—” She shuddered as she chose her next words, but they never emerged.

  “You selfish, selfish girl!” her mother broke in as Jules started rising from his seat, his face a storm cloud. “Your whole life, you’ve been like this. Sarcastic and unpleasant. Determined to steal the limelight. You’re not happy unless all the attention is on you. So, you lost a baby. Do you think you’re the first woman to have a miscarriage?” Desirée bit down on a gasp, and Cathy’s eyes narrowed. This was hardcore, even for her mother. “You spend all your time being this bitter, brittle person, when people far more deserving have been through so much worse. You should be grateful for what you have. For the man who is prepared to love you. You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve anything – you spoiled, awful girl!” Jules dropped back into his chair, oozing smug triumph.

  Desirée felt her blood rise. It combined with the burn of the alcohol and loosened her tongue. “Are you kidding me? Spoiled? After what we went through as children? How could you of all people, say something like that? Knowing what happened to us. What happened to me?”

  “Exactly what did happen to you, Desirée? A little unpleasantness when your father and I divorced? Some upheaval when we moved homes? Sulking because you were sent to boarding school?” By now, the entire gathering at the table had frozen, nobody daring to add a word. Only her brother shifted uneasily, putting a hand on his mother’s arm. She touched his fingers, looking at him lovingly. “No, Ben, don’t try to defend her. You had it far worse than she ever did.” She shot a look at her daughter. “Did you know that, Desirée? Did you know what your brother endured? The abuse? How your father abused him. How your father’s friends abused him? Just a small boy…helpless… If I had known… If I’d only known…” Her voice broke, and she put her hand to her throat, eyes full of fury focused on the young woman at the end of the table.

 

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