“Someone like that?” Matt repeated. He hooked onto the comment he could argue against, rather than the one he couldn't. God knows he was screwed up enough by his constant obsessing over why Emily had gone behind his back. She'd been so honest with him, up until that point. Why did she go against what she'd promised? It didn't matter how many times Matt ran through it in his head – he couldn't figure it out. “She's a human being, Dad. Just because her lifestyle choices don't align with yours, doesn't give you the right to judge!”
“It's not much wonder Courtney is a mess, if this is what you've been doing around her!” Clare shouted. “I'm ashamed of you!”
Matt stared at his mother in disbelief for a long moment, before he found his voice. “Get out.”
“That's not fair, Matthew,” Jim began to protest.
Matt shook his head firmly and held out a hand to stop his father from continuing. “Don't, Dad. Just don't. I've done nothing to be ashamed of, except spend time with a woman I thought I could fall in love with. Turns out, she wasn't the woman I thought she might be. Go home, and when you've cooled off, we'll talk again.”
His mother got to her feet and Matt watched as his father wrapped his own arm through hers. His parents appeared to have aged since they'd come through the front door and he cringed inwardly, knowing he was the cause of it.
Without another word, Jim and Clare Pendleton walked away from their son, and again Matt wondered if his life would ever be normal again. It seemed every relationship he had was imploding as a reaction to his behavior, and he cursed the day he'd met Emily.
Even while he admitted, if only to himself, he might be in love with her.
* * *
Chapter Twenty One
Matt stood by the water's edge, watching Millie splashing in the gentle waves as they hit the shore. Dressed in a little pink bikini, her long hair was hanging in damp rattails against her back, her little cheeks flushed with delight as she kicked her chubby legs at Brandon, trying to splash water back at him as he scooped water into his own hands and retaliated.
They'd been staying here in Domago for over a week now, after Matt had made the decision to get Courtney away from Seattle for a holiday when school ended for the summer. They'd had their final bi-weekly appointment with Mark Warren and Courtney had made so much progress over the two months they'd been seeing him, she'd now be dropping back to monthly sessions. Despite Matt's doubts, Mark Warren had proven himself brilliant with Courtney, not only getting to the foundation of her issues, but also making Courtney take responsibility for her own actions. Hell, Courtney had even apologized to Matt for eavesdropping on his conversation with Emily, and admitted to being in the wrong in that regard. Of course, for Matt, it was too little, too late.
Too much time had passed; too many recriminations had been made. Nothing could go back to the way it was. Hell, he'd only just gotten his relationship with his own family back on track, he couldn't ruin that now by admitting to himself or anyone else, how badly he was still missing Emily. The only one who knew how he truly felt was Gina; she'd been supportive from the beginning, insisting Matt should pursue Emily. More than once, she'd asserted that there must have been a reason Emily did what she had. Matt had told Gina – more than once – she was out of her mind. He couldn't – wouldn't – be going back down that path again. Emily had cheated on him and slept with another man. No matter that he was now convinced he'd fallen in love with Emily, he wouldn't be pursuing the matter. It was over.
Matt drew his attention back to the kids, enjoying an afternoon of fun on the beach. It was doing them a world of good to have his full-time attention and his relationship with all of them was improving because of the constant contact. He was taking these two weeks in Domago to do some soul-searching, deciding on his path when he returned to work. He'd already discussed his career with human resources, looking at options that would take him out of the field and get him settled into a desk job. While it wasn't ideal, it was part of his ongoing efforts to give his kids some stability and an increased sense of security. One of the things Mark Warren had unearthed, was Courtney's terror that Matt would get hurt when he was investigating a homicide – after losing her mother; she was frightened she would lose her father to violence. When Matt discovered this fear, he'd begun to think carefully about his future – and what he could do to best assuage her fears. And honestly, Matt thought the best thing he could do was break up the partnership between himself and Paul. They barely spoke any more, and Matt figured it would be better for both of them if Matt moved to a new area of the department. Their friendship had been permanently damaged by the situation with Emily, and Mandy refused to speak to him at all. He couldn't blame her, she was Emily's friend and he could understand her taking sides.
Maybe he should consider leaving the force altogether. But what could he do if he retired as a police detective? It was all he'd known in his adult life, he didn't know anything other than chasing down bad guys and keeping the citizens of Seattle safe. With a sigh, Matt returned his thoughts to his kids.
There was no doubt Courtney was improving, although she could still be prickly and incompliant. When he'd initially suggested the idea of this holiday, she'd been brooding and dismissive, determined that she'd prefer to spend the summer holidays with her friends. The drive down here from Seattle had been difficult, with Courtney sitting sullenly in the passenger seat, staring out the window and sending endless text messages to her friends. God, how he hated that cell phone.
The cabin he'd rented was basic and clean, situated on the beachfront it was devoid of the items the kids thought were priorities; television, DVR's, game consoles. A little smile played on Matt's lips as he recalled their abject horror, the dismay at the idea of not having electrical equipment for two weeks, when they'd first arrived. Now though, they'd settled into an easy routine and the kids were discovering the wonderful world of good, old-fashioned, outdoors fun.
“Dad?”
Matt turned to find Courtney walking towards him, her arms wrapped around her chest. She was wearing a swimsuit, covered with a brightly colored sundress they'd bought at the markets a few days ago.
“Hi, baby. Did you have a nice nap?” After lunch, he'd brought the kids down to the waterfront to swim, whilst Courtney had opted to lie down for a while. She'd been sleeping a lot lately, whether it was a reaction to recent events, or her way of coping with stress, Matt wasn't sure. Whatever it was, the sleep seemed to be doing her a world of good and she was calmer and less angry than she had been in months.
Courtney stopped beside him and Matt wrapped his arm around her shoulder, taking the risk of having her shrug him away. He knew it was natural for a fifteen-year-old girl, especially a fifteen-year-old girl who had been utterly devastated by what she saw as Matt's betrayal, but he missed the affectionate girl she'd once been, the times when she'd throw her arms around his neck and hugged him. The times when her mother was alive. To his surprise, Courtney leaned in towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Matt kissed the top of her head. “You alright, honey?”
Courtney nodded, remaining silent as she took in her siblings splashing, the waves rolling in, and the sun cresting on the ocean. “Paul telephoned.”
Matt frowned, wondering why Paul would have phoned. The only communication they had with the outside world was through the landline in the cottage, cell phones didn't work out here in the boonies. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“No. He asked if you could phone him later.”
“I'll phone him tonight. Hey, how about pizza for dinner? We could go to that little restaurant we saw in town, the one that smelled great.”
Courtney nodded in acknowledgement, and her eyes lit with amusement. “As long as we don't have to have anchovies. I hate anchovies.”
“You'll never get to like them, if you don't keep trying them,” Matt countered. It was an age-old argument, one he and Caroline had used with the kids whenever they were trying to get them to try new
flavors, or retry foods they'd rejected in the first place.
Courtney chuckled. “You're never going to win, Dad. If Mom were here, she'd agree with me, anyway. She hated anchovies, too!”
Matt blinked in surprise at Courtney's response, the fact that she'd spoken of her mother, so lightly, was something Matt hadn't seen in nearly two years. He hugged his daughter a little closer, and was thrilled when she hugged him back.
≈≈◊◊≈◊◊≈≈
The phone was ringing when they returned from dinner, a little after seven thirty. Matt heard it when he got out of the car and rushed to unlock the cabin door, asking Courtney get her little sister out of the car seat.
He snatched up the receiver before he'd even turned on a light, and stood scanning the doorway to make sure the kids came in safely as he answered. “Matt Pendleton.”
“Matt, it's Paul.”
Matt leaned his butt against the kitchen counter and looked skyward. He'd completely forgotten about Paul's earlier phone call, probably should have called him before they went out for dinner, but the kids had been complaining about being starving, and by the time he got them all showered and out the door, Paul's phone call had completely slipped his mind. To be honest, he hadn't been too keen on the idea of talking to him, anyway. “What do you want?”
Paul sighed heavily. “I'm not any happier talking to you, than you are to hear from me, I imagine, but I've gotta ask a question. I don't know where else to turn.”
Matt frowned; walking across to shut the cabin door after Courtney carried Millie inside. The littlest Pendleton had fallen asleep on the way back from town, and Courtney carried her towards the bedroom they were sharing, throwing Matt a questioning glance as she passed. Matt mouthed Paul's name and Courtney nodded, continuing towards the bedroom. “What's the question?”
“Have you heard from Emily in the past seventy two hours?”
Hearing her name took the air from Matt's lungs and he rubbed his temples as he tried to regain his equilibrium. Would he ever stop reacting like that when he thought of Em? Would he ever forget her? It had been three months, and he was missing her just as much now, as he had from the very beginning. He'd tried for weeks to tell himself he'd only experienced lust for Emily, but the ever-present ache in his chest suggested an emotion far deeper. “No, of course I haven't heard from her. Hang on.”
Placing his hand over the receiver, Matt turned to Brandon and Harper, who were watching him with similar quizzical expressions and Matt offered them a reassuring smile. “I've got to take this, guys. Why don't you set up a game, and I'll be back to play in a few minutes?”
Harper headed towards the selection of board games they'd brought from home, and Matt slipped out the front door, closing it firmly behind him. He'd gotten his fingers burned by letting the kids overhear a conversation once before – he wasn't going to let it happen again. “Paul, I'm here. What's going on? Why do you think Emily would contact me?”
Paul cursed harshly and Matt felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his gut. When Paul spoke, his voice was bleak. “Emily's missing; she's been gone for three days. Nobody knows where she is. We filed a missing persons report twenty four hours ago, but there hasn't been a sign of her.”
“She might have gone home to visit her parents, or she could be staying with friends,” Matt suggested, although he knew the chances were remote. From what little Emily had told him, she had no contact with her family, and her friends seemed limited to Paul, Mandy and the people at Salacious.
Paul laughed harshly. “I might think you're an asshole, but even you know enough about Em to know she wouldn't have done that. Something's happened to her.”
Matt lowered himself down to sit on the porch steps. “I'm not getting into this with you. I don't know where she is. What made you think I would? She's probably out with a john.” He didn't want to fight with Paul, but the guy was pissing him off. Emily taking off had nothing to do with him, wasn't his damn problem.
“She's not out with a john, you asshole! If you'd listened to me three months ago, you would know that! You're such a dick, Pendleton. She went out with that guy to say goodbye to him. No sex, no strings. For fuck's sake, the guy is about eighty-five years old! He pays Emily to escort him, for Christ's sake! He's the one client you didn't have to worry about, you asshole! Henry Austin takes Emily out to dinner, they watch some old black and white movies, and he takes her to the casino. He likes pretty girls, and he loved spending time with Em. If you'd listened to Em in the first place, you would have fucking known that! And I'm contacting you, because you're my last hope, that's why! She's never been the same since you dumped her, stopped taking the precautions she should do to protect herself.”
Matt frowned reeling from the information Paul had just imparted, and struggling to come to terms with the fact that he'd denied Emily the chance to explain, because he'd needed to appease his own conscience for dumping her. From what Paul was saying, the night had been perfectly innocent. Had Matt really been so cruel, when Emily hadn't done anything wrong? Shit. He mentally shook himself, focusing on the matter at hand. “Protect herself? From who?”
“From her asshole ex-boyfriend, that's who! The one who beat the crap out of her, treated her like a slave, broke her confidence. The one you'd know about, if you'd taken the time to listen to her and accepted the precious gift she was giving you, rather than jumping to conclusions and demeaning her…”
Matt held his head in his hands, shutting his eyes as he tried to take in what Paul was saying. “I think you'd better tell me the whole story.”
“Why? You don't deserve any explanation after what you did,” Paul said, his voice filled with disgust.
Matt gritted his teeth, knowing he couldn't blame Paul for his fury. Matt deserved it. “Please, Paul.”
There was an extended silence at the other end of the lines, before Paul spoke and when he did, he sounded defeated. “William Collado collared Em when she was eighteen years old, and didn't know any better. He became her Dom, and convinced her that the contract he'd made her sign was airtight and unbreakable. What followed for Em was nearly four years of living hell, of being treated worse than a dog, and being physically, psychologically, and emotionally abused every step of the way,” Paul said bitterly. “Mandy and I came across her in a BDSM Club in San Francisco when we were down there on holidays, and convinced her to leave him and come home with us. The things that asshole did to her don't bear thinking about. It took months for her to regain any confidence, to stop being frightened of shadows, to begin to think she had any worth. He'd beaten her down to the point where she believed she wasn't deserving of love, of kindness. He'd made her do things that were beyond imagining. She spent the first week after we rescued her in hospital here in Seattle, recovering from a tear in her rectum – Collado had forced her to use a butt plug, which was far too big for a woman of her size and then left it in her for hours on end. She came close to dying, and it took weeks of nursing before she physically recovered. Didn't you ever see those scars on her back?”
Matt swallowed heavily. “Yeah.” He didn't want to think about how she got them, wished now he'd asked her. He'd thought they'd have plenty of time, had put off asking the question until they knew each other better. It had been another mistake on his part.
“William Collado's handiwork. When he decided Em needed to be punished, he didn't use his hand, or a paddle, or a flogger designed for the job. He used a horsewhip. Nearly beat the skin off her back completely. More than once.”
Matt squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach turning. “A horsewhip?” he repeated.
“Yeah. The guy is a first rate asshole. Should have been imprisoned for what he'd done, but all I was concerned about was getting Emily the hell out of his hands and somewhere safe.” Paul laughed harshly. “Not that it was likely to happen anyway – the guy has bought himself out of legal trouble, more than once in the past. The thing is – I don't think he eve
r gave up on Emily, he wants her back, because he thinks he owns her.”
“Does he?” Matt questioned sharply.
Paul voice exploded from the other end of the line, and Matt drew the receiver away from his ear. “Of course he fucking doesn't! A Dom and sub relationship is created through mutual love, trust and understanding. If the sub wants to leave – at any time – she has that right. But when Collado collared Em, she was young, didn't know enough about BDSM to know any different. He had her convinced he owned her, as if she was a piece of furniture, or a fucking car.”
The bitterness in Paul's voice came through the receiver loud and clear and Matt felt his own anger rising at the thought of what had been done to Emily. It explained an awful lot about her reticence in revealing her past, her need to be so candid about what she would and wouldn't accept from him. Her fear of trusting him. Matt squeezed his eyes shut, aware that he'd hurt her, not in the same way, but as badly as William Collado had done. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. We've got it under control. I just needed to cover all the bases, make sure you hadn't heard anything,” Paul said coldly. “Her friends are out searching for her now. We won't give up until we find her.”
He disconnected the call, before Matt had an opportunity to say anything more.
≈≈◊◊≈◊◊≈≈
Matt stared out towards the beach after Paul hung up, running through what he'd said. He was worried, pondering where Emily could be. From what Paul said, this Collado guy was dangerous, and he could have taken her. Matt's heart clenched in his chest and he felt nauseous, knowing he hadn't given Emily a chance. Why hadn't he just listened to her, that night? Why hadn't he given her the opportunity to explain what she'd been doing, rather than abusing her the way he had done?
Because laying the blame on Emily had been the better option. He hadn't wanted to break things off with her, but he'd felt as if he had to do it, for Courtney's sake. The idea of Emily lying to him, of cheating on him, had been the salve to Matt's conscience, a way of validating his decision and had made him feel like less of an asshole. Shit, he'd been so stupid. Had he made a huge mistake?
Contrasting Lives Page 21