The Gentlewoman

by Lisa Durkin

  He reached up and grabbed her hair hard, holding her face to his. “You bitch!” he screamed into her face. He rose and slapped her over and over, his hand raising high and coming down hard.

  Rory took every hit to the face. She was here again. Beaten and probably going to die.

  But she couldn’t be. Her life was so different from three years ago, or even six months ago. She had everything to live for. She wanted to live.

  In her desperation, she latched on to Shane’s back. She thought she was going crazy when, for the second time in her life, she felt her assailant’s gun tucked into his waistband. In a swift move of memory, she pulled the gun. She pointed it at his head and tried to pull the trigger. Shane knocked it out of her hand and it went flying across the room.

  He grabbed her by the throat again and squeezed. “You worthless bitch. This is the thanks I get.”

  Rory couldn’t breathe, but she fought. She fought against his hands and hold because her life with Jackson depended on it, the life she wanted to live.

  She gasped and gulped for air as he choked her. She fought and desperately wondered why. Why? She considered all she’d already lost in life and it all came flooding back to her mind as Shane tried to choke the life from her.

  She thought of losing her mother and father, her baby, and for a long time, so much of herself. It saddened her. But more than that, through the suffocating hold, it fucking pissed her off that she was here again, in danger of losing an even better life. In danger of losing her life with Jackson.

  That thought bolstered her. With one last spurt of pure adrenaline, Rory reared back with her hand. With strength and accuracy, fighting for her right to have a life beyond the shame and hurt of the past, Rory stabbed her fingers straight into Shane’s eye. She grabbed onto his eyeball, digging into the eye socket, tearing out the flesh in that cavity. With a fierce and primal scream, she pulled out a handful of organ and tissue.

  She didn’t wait to be overcome by the nature of what she had done. Shane writhed and screamed and she pushed him hard. She flung herself across her bedroom floor. She grasped desperately for the gun. She gripped it in her hand and turned, pointing the weapon across the room at him. She pulled the trigger again and again and again, the blasts ringing in her ears. She didn’t stop until the clicking of the empty chamber was all she could hear.

  Rory lowered the weapon. She was on her ass on the floor. She held her breath, staying stock-still in case he moved again. She stayed frozen for a long time. She listened for any breathing but heard none. Finally she dropped her head. After a moment she began to move, trying to stand.

  It took her several tries, her leg in sharp pain. She dragged it behind her. She looked around at the bloody room. Shane lay on the floor, a mess of blood and holes. She breathed out and looked toward the door, anesthetized and yet mesmerized by the violence that had happened again.

  She took a step and dragged her leg, took another and another. She slowly hopped downstairs, stair by stair. She made her way haltingly and painfully to her front door, thinking to go outside and call out for help.

  The first thing she noticed when she opened the door was that the sun had come out. It was so bright it almost blinded her, but it struck her as beautiful. The second was that there were cars screeching to a halt in front of her house. Jackson was running toward her, as if in slow motion.

  She looked up into his face and felt such consolation and relief that tears began to flow. Tears came hard, born of disbelief and abhorrence.

  Her strength drained. She fell to a sitting position on the front step. Jackson stopped abruptly in front of her, devastated and breathing hard, sobbing as he ran his hands over her body. He demanded to know where she was injured and asked over and over if she was okay. He took her right hand, prying free the pistol she hadn’t known she still held. He tossed it aside and lifted her, holding her tightly as he consoled her, her cheek against his rock-hard chest. He held her tightly as officers and agents ran around them and into her house.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  In the aftermath, Rory felt mostly numbness and disbelief. She and Jackson were ushered into an ambulance. Jackson sat with her cradled in his arms as she was checked over. He was grim and apologetic, cursing himself that he hadn’t gotten to her in time.

  In her bewildered, teary state, she finally put her hand on his sweet cheek and whispered, “Jackson, this wasn’t your fault. There was no way you could have known.”

  He stared at her through beautiful, distressed eyes. “Oh Rory…my beautiful Rory…”

  She reached up and kissed his mouth hard to get his attention. “I’m okay.” She stared into his eyes to be sure he got the point. “I’m okay.”

  He stared back for a moment before nodding his head and tucking her under his chin again. He held her tightly as the paramedics assessed her condition.

  Rory was treated in the emergency room for multiple contusions on her face, neck and hands. The face and neck had been from Shane attacking her. The hands were from her fighting back. Her left kneecap was dislocated and she was immediately admitted for corrective surgery. The doctor assured her she would be running again in no time.

  As the doctor left the room, she looked at Jackson. He stood guard, never leaving her side.

  “Landon?” she whispered hoarsely.

  Jackson slowly came forward and eased onto the side of the gurney.

  “I saw,” he whispered back, pushing her hair back from her forehead. “He’s gone.”

  Rory closed her eyes as the tears slid down her cheeks. They didn’t say anything else for a long time. Jackson held her hand in both of his, caressing her as she quietly sobbed. She had so many questions but didn’t voice them. She felt as though they would further overwhelm her.

  The police came soon enough to question her. They knocked and entered the private room. Two Cleveland police officers and a Homeland agent showed her and Jackson their IDs.

  “Congresswoman Morgan, we have to question you and try to have you make a statement. We know you’re on your way to surgery, so we understand if we need to continue this tomorrow.” The Homeland agent stood against the wall, content to let the officers lead.

  “Certainly,” she rasped, scooting herself slowly up on the gurney. Jackson helped her move her immobilized knee.

  “We worked for your father, ma’am,” the second police officer said. “It was an honor to serve with him.”

  Rory looked up, caught off guard. New tears sprung to her eyes. “Oh…thank you,” she gasped quietly.

  At the officers’ gentle questioning, Rory took them through her day. She learned a lot herself. They were willing to tell her what they knew, unofficially.

  They had found her assigned Secret Service agent by the river, his neck snapped. That was why he never made it to City Hall. That was courtesy of Shane, they assumed.

  As the facts were sorted out, the picture became clear. Shane had been the one doing all those things in DC. The open door, the baby doll and Tagg’s murder would probably all lead back to him. Mr. Lucas had already confirmed seeing Shane at the house several times.

  Roan Sullivan turned out to be the cover story Shane was using to try to control her life and punish her for her perceived wrongdoings. Rory filled the police in on her history with Shane, and it all made perfect sense. The sorrow that filled her was incredible. She struggled to stay away from blaming herself for Shane’s obsession.

  Finally the Homeland agent, sent by Reynolds, spoke up. The fact that Roan Sullivan was actually in town was just twist of fate. From all indications, Roan was never seeking Rory. But the business with Landon was confusing. Information was lacking. The authorities were questioning various individuals, including Bruce Garrison, since the dead men were meeting in his office. The implication was pretty clear to everybody, including Rory. As grief-stricken as she was, she knew that his name would not be cleared of wrongdoing.

  The hospital staff returned. Jackson accompanied them as they t
ook Rory into pre-op. They inserted IVs and prepped her. He held her hand as they waited for her to be wheeled into the operating room.

  Rory felt something wet hit her hand and looked at Jackson. He smiled at her through his tears.

  “I feel like I almost lost you today,” he whispered. “I…I can’t believe how quickly I could have lost you…”

  Rory squeezed his hand. “It’s over now. It’s over for good.”

  She reached up to caress his cheek. “Oh Rory…”

  “It’s over, Jackson. It’s over and it’s all going to be okay,” she assured him.

  And somehow she felt it. Through her grief and her bewilderment over the last eight hours, she had a feeling of closure. Even with her lingering suspicions about Landon, she knew she would be closing a chapter of her life that had needed closing for a long time. And that made her feel better than she had ever felt.

  Rory felt as if she were floating on a cloud, but she knew she wasn’t. As she looked upward, she could see the beautiful sky was where it should be. It was blue and clear and bright. She was standing in a grove. She was standing in the apple grove at the farm.

  She looked around. It was as she remembered it, down the lane from the house and sloped down from the gulley. It was a beautiful day. Rather than worry about what she was doing back here, she lifted her face to the sun that warmed it. She breathed in the fresh air tinged with the smell of earth and the sweet scent of apples.

  “Let’s pick apples, Rory Elizabeth!” a familiar voice called out from behind her and she turned quickly. Her father stood beside the largest apple tree, the one they were all spawned from.

  A moment of disbelief stole her voice. She moved forward, drawn to him.

  “Daddy,” she gasped as she grew closer.

  He turned and smiled at her, shoving a Red Delicious in his bag.

  “The apples are ripe with the season, lassie. Best be ready to harvest now.”

  She stared at him. He looked as he had, so large and healthy, filled with laughter and life. Oh how she marveled that even though her loving memories had been vivid, the image was truly dulled compared to being next to him.

  But how was this? Where was she?

  “Daddy, where are we?”

  He laughed and looked back at her. “Here in our orchard. Where we loved to be.”

  She watched as he continued to pick apples and place them in his bag.

  “Daddy, I miss you terribly. Every day I think of you and miss you and Mama…”

  She trailed off as he turned to her. “We miss you too, Rory Elizabeth, and we love you. But you must go on your way now.”

  Tears sprang to Rory’s eyes and she looked around. “I’d almost rather stay with you,” she said softly.

  “Well, lassie, that’s been part of the problem, hasn’t it. You have to let go and live. That’s why we put you here.”

  He stepped back from the tree and looked deeply into her eyes. “Have a dance with me, like we used to.” He came forward and took her in his arms.

  She breathed in his scent, the same she remembered since she was a child. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his loving arms around her. Her tears fell as she savored her father’s embrace. It had been so long since she had felt it.

  They danced slowly awhile, and then he stepped back. She leaned into his hand as he wiped a tear from her face.

  “You’ve shed so many tears. It’s time for you to let go and move on.”

  “It’s so hard, Daddy. After Aidan, and now Landon is gone in some sort of trouble…”

  “Shhh, little one, I know. Things were done to us and around us that aren’t right and weren’t of our doing. But in the end, it is just as it is, and you must move on. It’s time. It’s time for you to follow your love and live life.”

  “Oh Daddy, I wish you were with me,” she cried.

  “I’m always with you, Rory Elizabeth, always.” He looked around the orchard, then met her eyes again. “But you have to live now. Without guilt and shame for what transpired and without the feeling that your life isn’t meant to be. You go now, and truly live. Take our love and live, like this orchard takes the sun and earth and makes apples. Live and love and move on. Always move on and know that we love you… We love you…”

  Rory opened her eyes and gasped. She looked quickly around but saw only the hospital room she lay in. Jackson was asleep in a recliner. She looked around again, sure she could still smell the orchard.

  “How are you?” Jackson said, waking and moving forward to her. He sat on the side of her bed. “Are you okay? You look frightened.”

  “No,” she said in a parched voice. She cleared her throat. “Just surprised.” She wiped a tear away.

  Jackson brought her a cup of water and put the straw to her lips. “How do you feel?”

  She thought about the question. Besides the aching bruises on her body and the fact that her leg was elevated and very heavy in an immobilizer, she felt okay. She actually felt peaceful.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  He looked at her and shook his head.

  “Come here,” she said, unfolding her arms. He laid his head gently on her chest. She held him for some time.

  “Jackson, I meant what I said. None of this is your fault. Nobody could have known what was going on or what was going to happen.”

  He lifted his head and she looked into his eyes. They were beautiful and haunted. “I died a thousand deaths trying to get to you,” he whispered.

  “I know. And it’s over. Done. And I’m fine. I want us to put this behind us and move on. Keep going and build that life we made the pact to build.”

  He snorted and smiled at her. “Wow, you’ve come a long way, haven’t you, baby?”

  “Yes. Thanks to you. I didn’t do anything to deserve what happened to me, then or now. And even though it hurts like hell to think of Landon and this mess…I’m going to move on. I’ll grieve and be sad, but I will move on. I want our life. Let’s get out of here and put it back together.”

  He smiled at her and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m not going to be able to let you out of my sight for a while.”

  “That’s so fine with me,” she breathed, relieved to see him coming around.

  He laid his head back down and nuzzled her. “You’re going to have to marry me very soon.”

  “My pleasure, Jackson,” she said. “As soon as we possibly can.”

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Jackson ran down the corridor, yelling into his phone. “Travis, bring the car around! We have to go now!” He skidded around a corner and flew down the next hall.

  Finally he came to the hearing room where Rory’s subcommittee vote was taking place. He tried to calm himself as he approached the door. No reason to alarm anyone.

  Congresswoman Rory Morgan-Dorn had sponsored legislation to increase funding to children whose parents were victims of domestic violence. This legislation was important, she had said, as it would help with the aftereffects and the recovery it takes to get over witnessing acts of violence.

  She had been authoring a lot of legislation in the last two years. Rory had sponsored many bills that meant a lot to her. Some helped women and children and victims of violence and crime. Others had proposed new and harsher penalties for human trafficking. She also did a lot for education and job training, as well as mental illness and addiction.

  And she still sat on Homeland. Jackson always laughed when she didn’t take the annual “out” he offered her for her seat. He could tell she secretly relished the ability to shape that legislation.

  Jackson straightened his tie and ducked inside the hearing room. He gingerly took a seat in the back of the room, sitting nervously with his elbows on his knees. He listened for the end of the commentary. He didn’t want to interrupt before the vote was passed to the full committee, but time was of the essence.

  He looked at Rory and was once again struck breathless by his beautiful wife. He was in aw
e of her every day. He was so proud of the woman she was, what she had overcome in her life and how she chose to live every day to its fullest. He sat back and listened as she called the role.

  It had been so hard after all the details had finally come to light. Shane had been deeply disturbed, and Jackson had wanted to know how that escaped the FBI’s attention. But Landon had been another issue altogether. Very painful for Rory.

  Landon McCollum had met the Sullivan family years before on a trip to visit cousins in Ireland. He knew them to be petty thieves and crooks. But when he was in trouble because he had embezzled money from the party, he had reached out to them.

  Thinking they would be a good source of untraceable money to replace what he had stolen, he became indebted to them. And they had taken advantage. They moved to Cleveland and set up business. To Landon’s dismay they had forced him even deeper, insisting that he launder their money through the party books. It was all unraveling at the end. Landon was in over his head. Roan had been keeping up the pressure until it all broke loose.

  Mayor Bruce Garrison as well as a couple other longtime party loyals had gone to jail for their roles and ill-gotten gains along the way. But Bruce had been helpful in the end. He at least accepted Rory’s visit in jail and answered her questions about Landon. Questions that included whether Landon knew anything about Aidan’s plan to abduct her and her father. She had needed to know if he was complicit in any way or had any knowledge beforehand.

  Bruce and a few others had helped with information about that. They told Rory how tortured Landon had been over what had happened. How he had wanted to die himself. Landon had been helpless in the end to change what had been put into motion. His involvement began and ended with his failure to inform Rory of what kind of man Aidan Sullivan really was. That act made him complicit in the attack and her father’s death. It changed things for Rory.