Shattered Dreams (Dreams Series Book 1)

by Hicks, Braxton

  I stopped myself right there. This was something that I'd just remembered Charlie saying to me the night I was attacked. Oh God, I didn’t want this to go on the record. It was too late.

  “What did he say, Ms. Preston?”

  I sighed, not wanting to continue, but knowing she would badger me for withholding information if I didn’t. “He said something like ‘Sissy likes it rough.’ He asked me if I wanted him to fuck me like the boss man did in the stable that night.”

  “Who was he referring to, Ms. Preston.”

  Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

  “Trey Sinclair. We'd made love once in the stables back in mid-August.”

  “How would Charlie Roberts have known that?” she asked.

  “He would have had to have been watching us,” I replied, blushing.

  “Not necessarily,” she replied. “Is it possible that Mr. Sinclair boasted about having sex with you in the stables to other workers there? Perhaps bragging to the other guys, that sort of thing?”

  “No,” I responded, my anger showing. “It’s not possible.”

  “Why are you so certain about that, Ms. Preston?” She pressed, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Because Trey has no recollection of that night,” I answered softly. I finished relaying the rest of what I remembered about the assault that night. I told her that I'd screamed for help until his fist had knocked me unconscious. I'd awakened two days later in the hospital.

  Beth Denniston rose and walked over to a box that Detective Ryan had brought into the conference room with him.

  “Ms. Preston, we have some evidence here in this box that we want you to identify on the record in this investigation, please.” She pulled out the plum silk camisole top that had been cut, along with the ripped plum silk shorts.

  “Do you recognize these?”

  “Yes, those are the silk pajamas I had on that night in Radcliff, Kentucky when Charlie Roberts came into my bedroom when I was thirteen and sexually assaulted me.”

  “Do you know how these items got torn and cut?”

  “The bottoms were ripped off of me. I've no idea how the top got cut.”

  “Do you know how Charlie would have been in possession of these items?”

  “I've no idea. The only possibility is that my mother may have given them to him.”

  “What would the purpose be in her doing that?”

  “You'd have to ask her,” I answered.

  She then pulled out the piece of paper that had typing on it reading, “I believe these belong to you, Sissy.”

  “Do you recognize this piece of paper?” she asked.

  “Yes, that's the note that was pinned to the camisole top that was left on the porch of my cottage.”

  “And when did this happen, Ms. Preston?”

  “I don’t recall the exact date, it was on a Sunday; I do remember that. Trey and I'd gone to eat at Morelli’s outside of Bristol that afternoon. He walked me back to my cottage, and the clothes and the note were in a shopping bag, hanging on the knob of my front door. I thought Trey had wanted to surprise me with a gift…” my voice trailed off.

  “Mr. Sinclair was with you when you found these on your porch?”

  “Yes. He'd just had the locks changed. I think it was the end of June sometime.”

  Ms. Denniston held up the two blue velvet jewelry boxes. “Can you identify these Ms. Preston?”

  “Yes. These are the two blue velvet jewelry cases that were left in my cottage. I recognize the earrings and necklace as those previously given to me by my mother the night of my senior prom. I actually hadn’t seen them since the night of my prom. I thought I'd lost them at one of the after-prom parties. They showed up here in my cottage underneath my bed covers a day or two prior to the PJs being left on my door.”

  “Was there any note left with these?” she asked.

  “No just the boxes. I remember that I'd walked back to my cottage from the racetrack over at the Belle. It was dark, and my horse was…scratched from the last race. I noticed lights on in my cottage that had not been on when I left for the track earlier. I was looking through my own windows when Trey came up on me. He went in the cottage to check it out before I did.”

  “So Mr. Sinclair was also there when you discovered these boxes under your bed covers?”

  I didn’t like the tone her questioning was taking regarding Trey.

  “Yes he was. We were discussing the matter of my horse being scratched from the race that evening. We weren’t entirely in agreement on it.”

  Ms. Denniston pulled out another folded piece of paper from her box of goodies. It was inserted into a plastic sleeve like the other one. “Do you recognize this note Ms. Preston?” It was the one addressed to ‘Sissy’ stating the sender missed the sweet taste of her cunt and promising to find her.

  “Yes. It was shoved underneath the door of my cottage.”

  “Do you remember when that was?”

  “Not the specific date, no. It was after the PJs were left.”

  “Was Mr. Sinclair at the cottage when you found it?”

  “No, actually Trey was in Atlanta where his law firm is located. My friend Gina was with me at the cottage. I wasn’t staying at the cottage; Gina and I were staying at the Sinclair manor. I had to go and get more clothes and stuff, so Gina went with me. She saw it on the floor inside the door and gave it to me.”

  “Ms. Preston, is there any particular reason that you didn’t mention these incidents in your statement previously given to the detectives at the hospital?”

  “What I've shared with you here this morning are things from my past that are humiliating, and best forgotten. It's difficult coming to terms with my past, and in particular, my mother and what she's done. I know that there is a link between my mom and Charlie Roberts; to what extent, I've no way of knowing. Trey believes that Charlie may be a co-conspirator in that as well. So if I’m not particularly eager to discover whether my mom actually wanted me dead, and paid Charlie to do the job, it isn’t because I’m trying to obstruct justice in any way, it’s only because I’m not sure I could handle that much hate in one lifetime from my mother.”

  Ms. Denniston looked at me and smiled. It was the first time that I saw compassion cross her face. I was a key witness to the facts. She had to press me just as a defense attorney would if this went to trial.

  “I understand that you’re going to be a mother,” she said.

  “Yes, in early May.”

  “I wish you the best, Ms. Preston. I've a feeling that your child will be blessed with a mother who will give him or her the love and nurturing every child deserves, but that you were denied.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “We will be in contact with you should we have any further questions as the investigation continues. Thank you for making the trip here.”

  That was it, I was done. I texted Trey as instructed. A limo was dispatched for me and I arrived at the airport well in advance of my flight. I was able to get my flight changed to an earlier departure. Once on the plane, I felt better than I had all day. I was going home.

  Chapter 35

  My second trimester had started and I was feeling great. The nausea and fatigue were gone and I'd gained five pounds. I was ecstatic and I could hardly wait to get my baby bump.

  I had registered with a temp agency the week after I arrived back in Radcliff and was delighted to hear from them when I returned from Virginia. I was being offered a 20-week assignment filling in at a law firm that would take me up to just a few weeks before my due date. I happily accepted. The job was right in Radcliff.

  I'd been there for three weeks and was coming back from lunch with a stack of files in my arms when Jill the receptionist at the front desk caught my attention, waving me over to her desk. She looked semi-frantic and I was wondering what could have possibly changed her usual laid back demeanor.

  “Tylar,” she said in a loud whisper, “there’s an attorney in your office waiting to see you.”
/>   “An attorney in my office?”

  “Yes,” she stammered, “he’s like really, really gorgeous.”

  Oh God.

  “His name is Mr. Sinclair. Do you know him?”

  “Yes I do,” I answered, puzzled as to why Trey would show up here unannounced like this. “I used to work for him.”

  “He seems a bit—distraught,” Jill said, reluctantly.

  “Distraught?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said very nonchalantly although my hands trembled. I hurried down the hall to my office, clutching the thick file folders. As I opened the door with one hand, balancing the stack of folders in the other, I was keenly aware that Trey stood next to my desk. Holding my files with both hands, I kicked my door shut with my foot. He was right there beside me.

  “Here,” he said, taking the stack of file folders from my hands, “allow me, Tylar.”

  “Trey?” I said, genuinely surprised to see him.

  He set the files on my desk, and then turned to me. “Please sit down, Tylar,” he said, taking my hand and moving me around to the nearest chair. He was acting very strangely; it was as if I'd suddenly turned into a delicate China doll that could break at any minute. The suspense was killing me.

  “What's going on? Why are you here? The last I knew we weren’t on speaking terms.”

  He sat on the edge of my desk and I swiveled my chair around to face him. His nearness to me was distracting. His tailored linen shirt couldn't hide the muscular arms and chest beneath. His chin dimple drove me to distraction, along with his dark brown mass of tousled hair. His gaze was serious, penetrating as he leaned forward, putting each of his hands on the arms of my chair so that I couldn't turn away from him.

  “Tylar,” it was almost a whisper as the words were spoken, “is there something that you need to tell me?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I hedged.

  “Don’t play with me,” he said, his voice on edge.

  I shrunk back from him, trying to increase the distance between our bodies and his piercing gaze, which didn’t falter in its intensity. “Say what you’re here to say Trey. I’m on the clock.”

  “You're having my baby,” he declared, daring me to deny it, blue eyes flashing.

  “No,” I replied obstinately, “I'm having my baby.”

  He wasn't deterred one bit by my response. He eyed me warily. I knew he wanted more information and he wanted it now.

  “I’m not leaving Radcliff until you and I have had the opportunity to discuss this, do you understand?” I nodded, somewhat intimidated by his intensity.

  “What time does your shift end?”

  “At four,” I replied.

  “I'll be at your house waiting,” he said.

  I nodded again. He left without another word. My mind instantly filled with questions: what was I going to tell him and how had he figured this out? I was distractedly sorting through the file folders on my desk when Jill poked her head into my office. I waved her in.

  “Okay, spill,” she said, “who was the hottie?”

  I was reluctant to share too much. “He’s someone that I used to go out with,” I told her, which was true.

  “Why did you stop?” she asked.

  “It’s complicated,” I said with a sigh. Jill smiled knowingly and shut my office door.

  I had to keep busy or the day would move all that much slower.

  Finally, it was four. and I closed down my desk for the day. I told Jill I'd see her tomorrow and left. True to his word, Trey was waiting in his rental car when I pulled into the driveway at home. He came up to the porch with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Where's your Mercedes?” he asked.

  I swallowed nervously as I fumbled to fit my house key into the lock. He brushed me aside, quickly turning the key, releasing the lock. As I put my hand on the door handle, he stopped me.

  “I’m waiting for an answer,” he demanded.

  “I traded it in,” I answered, “it wasn’t practical with the baby coming and all.” He said no more on the matter, hopefully realizing that I'd taken the practical approach. “I got money back from the trade,” I said, not wanting him to think that I'd taken advantage or profited in some way as a result of my practicality. “I’d be happy to give it back to you,” I offered.

  He gave me a look that said, ‘oh, puleeze,’ as he opened the front door, holding it open for me so that I could enter before him. Once inside, he gazed around the sparsely furnished house. I felt sort of embarrassed as I tried to figure out where our conversation was going to take place. In the living room, there was just the love seat. The kitchen table might be better.

  “Would you like something to drink, Trey? I have iced tea, or I could make coffee?” I offered.

  “Nothing for me, thanks. You go ahead though,” he replied as he made himself comfortable on half of the loveseat. I guess the decision had been made as to where we were going to have our discussion. I poured myself a glass of iced tea and joined him in the living room. I sat down on the love seat at an angle, sipping my iced tea, then setting it on the end table.

  “So, you wanted this discussion,” I stated flatly.

  “Tylar,” he began, carefully choosing his words to mask his irritation, “why didn’t you tell me that I'm going to be a father?”

  His eyes were intense. It was clear to me that Trey believed that he was the injured party in all of this. How very typical of what a spoiled, arrogant man might feel. I felt my response begged a question of its own.

  “Trey,” I asked tersely, “why is it that you didn’t remember the occasion, and how is it that you’re remembering it now?”

  Trey leaned forward on the loveseat, resting his forearms on his thighs, clasping and unclasping his well-manicured hands, occasionally picking at the band on his Rolex watch. Trey spoke gently and humbly, looking into my eyes.

  “I realize that it’s despicable that I’d have the occasion to be with you and not recall it. I apologize for that. For me to sit here at this moment and tell you that I thought I’d dreamed the incident in the stable sounds ‘convenient,’ I know. You, of all people, could agree that sometimes, given the right frame of mind and circumstances, it can be difficult to distinguish the reality from the fantasy. Please know that I'm not comparing this with what you endured in your past. My situation was self-imposed.”

  He stopped, raking his fingers through his gorgeous hair. He turned then and took one of my hands into his, brushing my fingers with his thumb.

  “Go on, Trey,” I said, my heart racing with anticipation as to how this was going to play out.

  “I hadn’t seen you in a while. It was driving me nuts. It seemed like when I'd spot you even from a distance, you were always with Mark. You were working with Mark, going somewhere with Mark in his truck. One day, I saw you and Mark pass by going out of the driveway by the manor. You two were laughing about something. It made me fucking crazy.”

  Trey paused to collect his thoughts. “As my birthday approached, I decided to throw myself a pity party. I only invited one guest, Jack Daniels. I don’t usually drink like that, ever. I started the day before, drinking well into the morning hours of my birthday. I remember being in the stable, talking to Derringer. I thought I'd passed out and dreamt of you. When I awoke, I was still in the stable, dressed and lying on a pile of straw. Actually, Charlie is the one who woke me that morning.” His eyes clouded with anger.

  “Okay,” I said, “that doesn’t explain how you found out.”

  “A week or so after you were ordered to come back to Washington County to meet with the C.A. on the case with Charlie; I was called in by the C.A. to be interviewed.” A hint of a sardonic smile crossed his lips. “I got the distinct impression that Ms. Denniston suspected I was somehow involved. To what degree, I wasn’t sure. She volleyed between making me feel like a co-conspirator to possibly a co-victim, it was a very strange interview.”

  Tr
ey frowned; obviously irked that he'd been considered a potential candidate for either. “During this meeting, I was given an opportunity to review the evidence, and I was questioned as to what, if any, pertinent information I could offer. Ms. Denniston wanted information pertaining to how you obtained your job at Sinclair Stables, noting that most of the others were from local or semi-local colleges. She delved into our personal relationship as well.”

  That part about getting my job at Sinclair Stables struck a chord with me. The fact was, my mom had told me a friend or relative of someone she worked with at the law firm had connections with someone at Sinclair Stables. She went so far as to promise me that whoever this connection was would use their clout to help me get the summer position. I filed this information away for future reference.

  Trey continued with his explanation. “Ms. Denniston allowed me to read through the transcribed interview that she'd conducted with you the previous week. I read what Charlie said to you during his assault. It was about…” Trey stammered. I'd never seen him struggle for words. “…about, apparently, what he saw.” Trey shifted a bit, letting go of my hand. He stood up, and turned to face me on the love seat, nervously raking his right hand through his hair. “There was another interview with Charlie after you left, Tylar. The C.A. wanted to determine what he knew about your mom and the trust, to establish whether he co-conspired with her to defraud you. The C.A. offered him a reduction on one of the charges currently pending in exchange for his cooperation in revealing everyone involved as well as your mother’s whereabouts.”

  Trey stood up and paced nervously in front of me. I could tell that whatever he was about to share with me was distasteful to him. He crouched on his haunches so that we were face to face. He once again took both my hands into his, massaging my fingers. This has to be bad, I thought. His dark blue eyes were stormy as they locked with mine.

  “That early morning, Tylar, when I was in the stable and the horses were making a ruckus, Charlie heard it too. He saw you leave your cottage and go down to the stable. He followed you down there. I’m not sure of his initial intention but I can surmise that he was going to try to seriously hurt you.” Trey was looking down at my hands now, struggling to tell me the rest. Finally, he raised his eyes to mine. He charged ahead.