by Selena Kitt
“Rob?” His name came out as a croak. My brain wanted to make connections my heart found too painful to contain.
“The bastard.” Catherine leaned forward, conspiratorial. “He got away with it.”
“With… what?”
“Murder.” She sneered.
“There was a… a shooting…?” Her words didn’t want to sink in. They stayed on the surface of my consciousness like an oil slick on a lake.
“The thing is, no one knows. They sealed the records because he was a juvenile.” Another sneer wrenched across her face. “But I know. His mother knows. His brother and sister, they know.”
The brother and sister who had been taken into foster care when Rob was twelve? Could this possibly be true? Could this have been the real reason all the siblings were separated and taken into custody? I didn’t want to believe it.
“Everyone protects him like he’s some china doll.” She snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Catherine, what are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know him at all, do you?” she asked the question, sounding incredulous, like it was impossible. How could I have spent so much time with him, how could I be his girlfriend, his lover, his wife, and not know any of this? That was the question in her eyes, and it was the question in my heart.
You don’t really know him at all, do you?
Did I?
“Tyler and Rob are brothers,” Catherine stated flatly. “And that bitch sister of his, I should have kicked her out of my damned house from the start. I don’t know why everyone had to live with us!”
Sarah.
“Sarah.” I choked out her name, but Catherine didn’t seem to notice. She was too lost in her own inner world. There were fires raging there that would never be put out. I could tell just by looking at her. There was something burning in me too. Things were falling into place for the first time and they were falling right on me. It was like being buried in cement.
“Take my advice, steer clear of her,” she warned me. “She’s a conniving little dyke who only cares about herself.”
“Who? Who…?” I sounded like an owl. I couldn’t get the question out. “Who… who did… he… kill?”
I felt faint. I told myself I wasn’t going to pass out. Not here, not now. If I could withstand being shot, if I could withstand holding my dying child in my bare hands, I could stand anything. I could stand the answer to a simple question.
“His father, of course.”
His father.
My heart sank. The father he claimed he never knew?
“You’re lying.”
“Go home and ask your boyfriend to tell you the truth.” That smile again. So soft, so menacing. “Look into his eyes. He can’t meet your eyes when he’s lying. You know that, right, Sabrina? You’ve known him, oh, a year now, two, maybe? You know him so well?”
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“I’ve known him since I was fifteen years old,” she hissed. “You think you know him? I know him. I know everything about him, everything that’s ever happened to him, everything. And I loved him anyway, through all of it. He’s mine, Sabrina. He’ll always be mine. I don’t care if you have a thousand more brats, you can have a litter of them at a time, it won’t matter. He will always belong to me. I know things about him you’ll never understand. Things he’ll never tell you.”
“I’m leaving.” I stood, still clutching my purse. She just looked up at me, passive, her face a mask.
“Why did you come here, Sabrina?”
“Stay away from him,” I whispered. I cleared my throat, trying to breathe the fear out of my voice. I mostly succeeded. “Listen to me, Catherine. When they let you out of here next week—stay away from both of us. If you come near us, I’ll kill you myself.”
My threat hung there between us. I felt my chest tighten, my eyes boring into hers. I wanted her to know I was serious—and I was. If I had to kill this woman to keep her from coming after me or my husband—my family—I would. And I think she knew it.
For a moment, just a moment, the heated gaze in her eyes faltered. Just for a moment, she believed me. I’d never felt so powerful. For that alone, the trip had been worth it.
“What are you talking about?” She shook her head slowly, side to side. She looked at me like I was the crazy one, and suddenly I felt that way. “They’ll never let me out of here. Thanks to you.”
She sneered that last bit.
I stared at her, shaking inside, trying not to tremble outside.
I didn’t understand. Nothing made sense.
“You’re not… getting out?”
“Did Dr. Klein tell you that?” she laughed. “She’s crazier than I am.”
It was one question I hadn’t asked Dr. Klein Why hadn’t I asked? I had just assumed. Of course, Rob had been talking about Catherine—hadn’t he? Who else could it have been?
“I’ve got to go.”
I walked down the maze of hallways in a daze, somehow finding my way to the front door. I took the bus back to the lot and then drove home, still in that same daze. My brain refused to work. I turned on the radio but didn’t hear anything. I made my way through L.A. traffic, stop and go, but didn’t really see anything.
It wasn’t until security let me in and I pulled up into our driveway that the realization hit me.
All of them.
At once.
Tyler was Rob’s brother.
Sarah was his sister.
Rob’s father hadn’t left them, like he had told me—Rob had shot him in the head at the age of twelve.
And of course, it wasn’t Catherine who was getting out of jail.
It was Rob’s mother.
She was the one who was being released, the person Rob didn’t want Sarah to contact. To even know about, from the sound of the conversation I’d overheard that night between the two of them. What had he told Sarah about her mother, I wondered? What other lies had he told?
Just how much didn’t I know about the man I had married?
How much hadn’t he told me?
What didn’t I know?
I rested my head on the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the racing of my own heart. I wouldn’t let the tears fall. The weight of Rob’s betrayal sat on my chest. How could he have kept this from me? Why wouldn’t he have told me that Tyler was his brother, Sarah his sister? And the story about their father…
My mind wouldn’t go there. I couldn’t fathom.
My father, a Detroit detective for over two decades, had always been my protector.
I got out of the car and made my way upstairs. I didn’t see anyone. Maybe no one had noticed my absence. I’d told Rob last night I was going to the gym today and had left while he was still sleeping. Maybe he still was.
I put my purse down on the dresser, hearing the shower running. So, he was awake.
I sat on our bed, running my hands over the disheveled silk sheets where we’d spent the night making love. The Rob I knew yesterday wasn’t the man I knew today. The man who had held me, whispered tender words, who said he loved me, who had married me—he had lied. He’d betrayed me, he’d betrayed all of the trust I placed in him.
“Hey baby. Where’ve you been?” He came out of the bathroom in just a towel, his dark hair wet and dripping beads of water onto his tanned shoulders.
I actually considering lying to him. Why not? I could cover up the lies with more lies until we couldn’t see the truth anymore. Pretend nothing was wrong, nothing was festering underneath our marriage like an abscessed tooth. But if I lied about where I’d been, if I lied about what I’d done, that betrayal would come back to haunt me, just like Rob’s lies were about to catch up to him.
“I went to see Catherine,” I said softly.
“You… what?” He had pulled on boxers and a pair of jeans, but he was still shirtless, standing at the open door of our walk-in closet. He said the words like he couldn’t quite believe what I’d told him.
“I overheard you, the other night,” I confessed, lifting my head and meeting his eyes. “I heard you say she was getting out… I thought…”
“Oh my God.” He swallowed. I heard it, an audible click.
“Do you think maybe…” I felt tears welling and willed them away. “It’s time to tell your wife the truth?”
“Sabrina…” He came over to the bed, but he didn’t sit beside me. He went straight to his knees, hugging my hips, his head in my lap. He lifted his face to look at me, and I’d never seen such terror, such horrible regret, on anyone’s face before.
“I know most of it already,” I told him softly, barely managing to keep the quiver from my voice. “Tyler’s your brother. Sarah’s your little sister. They’re the siblings you told me about, aren’t they? The ones you said were taken away?”
He nodded miserably. He was breaking my heart with every admission. Some part of me had hoped Catherine was simply crazy, rambling, insane, that she was making it all up to hurt me, to tear us apart. But she had been telling the truth.
Which was more than I could say for my husband.
“They were taken away because you shot your father?” I asked quietly.
Another slow, miserable nod.
There were tears in his eyes now.
Mine too.
“And it’s your mother who’s getting out of jail isn’t it?” I whispered. “That’s what Sarah found in the envelope under your plate at dinner that night?”
It was like he couldn’t speak, as if something had made him mute. He just nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the tears wetting his lashes finally starting to fall. So were mine.
“What I want to know…” I took a deep breath, my lip quivering. “Is why you didn’t tell me?”
“Sabrina…” he croaked, just my name, nothing else. He couldn’t manage any more. His mouth worked, but no sound came out.
“You told Catherine,” I whispered. “But you wouldn’t tell me?”
“It’s not like that.” He denied it, shaking his head desperately. “Oh God, baby, please… I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this. It’s not like you think.”
“No?” I stood up, my spine straightening as I made my way to the walk-in closet. “It sure looks that way.”
“Listen to me,” Rob pleaded from beside the bed. He was on the floor. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”
“But Catherine knew?” I stood in the doorway of my closet—our closet—looking at the suitcase I had taken with me to Aruba. I could fit a few weeks of clothes in it.
“Sabrina, you don’t understand.”
“I don’t think I want to.” I turned away from the bag, closed the closet door, and faced Rob. I teetered toward him on wobbly legs, not sure I was going to make it back to the bed.
“What are you saying?” His voice didn’t get above a whisper.
“I’m leaving.” I swallowed, wanting so much to reach down and run a hand through his wet hair. I fought the urge. It was so hard.
“You’re… leaving…?” he repeated, sounding dazed.
“I called Arnie on the way home.” This was a lie. It was easier to lie than I thought. I hadn’t actually called anyone. But I would. “I’m going on tour with Jimmy Voss.”
“Don’t do this.” Rob put his arms around my legs, up on his knees, burying his face against my belly. “Oh God, Sabrina, please don’t do this.”
“I think we need some time apart,” I whispered. I don’t know when I’d decided. Maybe it was when Catherine told me the truth. Maybe it was when Rob looked into my eyes and couldn’t. “I know I need… I need time to think.”
“I didn’t lie to you.” His voice was muffled against my abdomen. I could barely hear the words, but I felt them. “I just… I just couldn’t tell you the truth.”
“You told someone the truth.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. The pain in my heart throbbed, so boundless I could barely breathe, could hardly get the words out. “You told Catherine the truth. That’s all I really need to know.”
“No. Don’t do this. Let me…” He raised his face, dark eyes pleading with me. There was panic and dread there. I’d never seen Rob afraid of anything before. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“How could I believe anything you say now?” I cried. “How could you expect me to?”
“Sabrina, please, after everything we’ve been through…”
“I know.” I nodded, really crying now. “That’s what I thought too. After everything we’ve been through, how could you keep this from me? Something so…”
“Horrible?” he choked. “Disgusting? Sickening?”
“No… ” I sank to my knees with him, so we were on the same level. I took his hands in mine. “I’m your wife, Rob. You could have told me anything. I love you, I would love you no matter what. Don’t you know that? My God, I gave birth to your child! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means everything to me,” he whispered. “You don’t know…”
“You have a funny way of showing that.”
I stood, expecting him to grab me, hold onto me, but he didn’t. I walked to the door, picking up my purse off the dresser.
“There’s nothing I can say.” The realization was on his face as I looked back at him.
“I’ll call Katie.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks, taking a shuddering breath. “I’ll stay with her until the tour starts. I’ll… have someone come get my things when you’re not here.”
“Is this it?” He sounded incredulous. “Are we over?”
“I don’t know.” How could I know? “I don’t want to be…”
“Then stay.” Rob stood, coming forward, hopeful. He took my arm. “Let me explain.”
“I can’t.” I shook him loose. “How can I trust you now? Oh my God, Rob… everything she told me was true. Everything! I drove home, hoping against hope, that I would tell you all of this and you would… you would laugh! I hoped you would tell me she was crazy. That it was all some deranged woman’s fantasy, a way to get back at you, through me…”
“You wanted me to lie to you?” He gave a short, strangled laugh.
“No, I wanted you to tell me the truth!” I cried. “From the very beginning!”
“I told you…” He sighed. “I told you everything I could.”
“No, you lied. You betrayed me, and you betrayed our marriage!” I couldn’t even look at him. “You know, since the first time we met, we’ve been doing everything on fast forward. Maybe… maybe it’s time to stop and rewind.”
He caught me halfway down the hallway, grabbing my arm again, turning me around to face him.
“Sabrina! Don’t leave me,” he insisted.
I turned my face up to him, wanting to believe him, wanting more than anything to stay. But how could I, after this? How could I ever trust him again?
“You want me to tell you the truth?” His heart was in his eyes, everything on fire. “The truth is I love you. The truth is I can’t live without you. The truth is, if you walk out that door, you’re taking my heart with you when you go, and I will… I will never be the same again.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I took a deep, steadying breath. It took everything in me not to throw my arms around him and surrender. But how could I continue to live with a man who lied to me, who had betrayed me like this? I didn’t know how to reconcile my unending love for him and this overwhelming feeling of betrayal. “I’m just… going. For a while. I need… I just need time. Okay? Just… give me some time.”
“Time.” He lifted my chin, looking into my wet eyes. He sounded hopeful and I felt it too. Maybe if we could spend a few months apart, this gaping wound that had been torn open at my core would heal somehow. “Just time?”
“You told her.” I felt my face crumpling, my voice failing me. It was the thing I couldn’t get past, the root of my pain. I had drilled down deep and found it, filled with a festering infection that had taken me over completely. “You shared yourself wi
th her, but not me?”
“Don’t let her do this to us, Sabrina.” He put his arms around me then and I thought I would melt, I thought I would give in and stay in them, forever. But my heart was too broken. The fever had taken me over and I was lost to him, even to me. I wanted to die, it hurt so much.
“She didn’t, Rob,” I choked. “You did.”
I got all the way to the front door before he choked out my name.
I glanced back, up all those stairs he had once carried me up—the very first night I spent in his house. I looked at him and remembered that night, how scared I was to tell him I was pregnant—and how surprised and thrilled I’d been at his response. He’d been so happy. We’d both been so happy.
“Sabrina. I love you.” He said the words like it was the last time he might have the chance. “If you need time, if you need space… Just know I’ll be here when you get back.”
I nodded, putting my hand on the doorknob, not trusting my voice.
“Just… please… come back.”
That was the last thing I heard before going out the door.
Chapter Seven
It was funny how easy it was to sing about your heart breaking when it actually was. Or, maybe it wasn’t so funny. I certainly wasn’t laughing most nights. Most nights, I cried myself to sleep, as quietly as I could manage, because tour busses, even big ones, didn’t exactly overflow with privacy. Not that anyone noticed. I was the opening act and I slept on the bus with the crew, most of whom were drunk or high by bedtime. I’d gone on tour with Trouble, but that had been an entirely different experience. I’d been with Rob then and his tour bus was a palace compared to this.
Not that it mattered. I didn’t notice how miserable it was most of the time, that the bathroom toilet and sink didn’t work, that it smelled mostly like stale farts, cigarettes and beer, that my mattress sank so much in the middle it was like sleeping in a cocoon. Off stage, I might as well have been dead. It was easy to lose the last five pounds Arnie had grumbled about. The food on the road was all ordered in and I didn’t have an appetite. Besides, I was nauseous all the time anyway. Probably motion sickness from being on the bus all the time. I ate enough to keep my stomach from hurting and drank water like a fish. Tour busses were hot and being under the lights was like burning in hell, which felt just about right.