Invidious Betrayal

by Shea Swain

  “You can sit by me,” Mrs. Morel gave Ian a wide smile. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the sofa. He sat on the end closest to her while she sat in the other high-back chair, beside her husband.

  Mr. Morel looked at Ian and took a deep breath. His face was hard to read, but Ian did see love and concern, and...was that a bit of guilt? Mr. Morel cleared his throat. “We have some questions if you feel up to answering them.” He seemed to force the words out.

  Ian nodded thoughtfully; he’d known this moment was coming. He would give them all of the answers he could.

  “The fact that you’re sitting here means my daughter is…dead.” Mr. Morel choked on the last word. Ian didn’t deny it, so Mr. Morel visibly struggled to continue while an anguished Francois Jr. had to cross the room to hold his sobbing mother. Alexis had sucked in a surprised breath, but she was otherwise silent as Michael rubbed her back.

  “Noemi said she would die before she ever darkened my doorstep again. I had assumed that her declaration extended to her children as well,” Mr. Morel almost whispered. A look of defeat covered his suddenly aged face, but he held his emotions under control.

  No one spoke for a while as the family absorbed the news. “When…?” Mrs. Morel finally asked through her sobbing.

  Ian lowered his head. He knew two things would happen when he made the decision to come here. One was that he would have to tell them the truth about why he and Aria were here. Two, he would tell them what had happened to his mother. So with a heavy heart, he decided to tell them his shame–and he was prepared to receive their hate for causing his mother’s death. He could only hope they would be willing to help Aria and keep her safe until he figured out how to bring an end to their troubles.

  “She died giving birth to me…twenty-one years ago,” he answered. His tone was hollow and guarded. He flinched as he met Mrs. Morel’s pained look.

  Mrs. Morel gasped, then placed her hand over his. “Oh dear, you never got to meet her.”

  Surprised by her response, Ian looked around and was shocked to see each of them giving him a genuine look of understanding and sadness. They were sad, for him. “No, ma’am.” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “So why did you take so long to find us?” Alexis asked, her face screwed up like she was going to cry. Her question came out more like a whine because she was unable to hold back her tears at Ian’s painful admission. At that moment, Roxanne and Aria came down the stairs and joined them, both of them looking around at everyone as if they sensed the tension in the room.

  Aria was about to sit on the floor, but Alexis moved over some, giving her space to sit next to her. Roxanne sat on the loveseat, now empty because Francois was getting his parents a drink. When Francois returned he had drinks for all of them. Aria and Ian declined the wine and each took a bottle of water. Francois then quietly filled Roxanne in on what she’d missed.

  I can do this. Ian rubbed his hands together, then flattened them on his thighs before running them over his knees. He wasn’t used to the barrage of emotions he was feeling in this situation. “My brother and father rarely talk to me about her, so I had to find things out for myself. I wanted to know what she was like, so I made finding out about her my hobby. I found a copy of my parent’s marriage license and on it her maiden name was Moore but I couldn’t find anything about her under that name. I knew my parents met in college. They didn’t have much in her electronic file, but I was able to get the girl in the records department to let me look at her original paper file which surprisingly hadn’t been destroyed.”

  Ian looked at Mrs. Morel. “On her freshman year application she’d listed you as an emergency contact. So I searched for anything I could find about Emile Morel. After a lengthy search I finally found a mention of you in a newspaper here. It was some kind of human interest piece that listed you and all your children. Only, it said that you had a daughter named Noemi Morel, not Noemi Moore. I figure that they were one and the same.”

  “You have a brother, and he and your father kept the memory of your mother to themselves?” Mr. Morel’s voice was filled with disbelief, his brows furrowed and his lips thinned.

  “Yes, sir. I have an older brother, Richard. My parents adopted him before they conceived me.” Then he added, “He and my father took her death very hard.”

  “I’ll say”—Alexis snorted—“to the point where they kept her own son from ever knowing anything about her.”

  “Alexis, don’t pass judgment. Ian’s here now, and we should be grateful.” Mr. Morel looked at his wife, who was still visibly upset from the news of her daughter’s death. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then stood. “I’m going to take Emile up to bed.” He looked at Ian. “If you follow us up, I’ll show you your room.” Everyone stood except Mrs. Morel.

  “Goodnight, Ian,” Roxanne said, as she walked over and hugged him. “I’m glad you decided to find us.”

  “I’m happy you’re here, nephew. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll tell you everything that we know about your mother.” Francois embraced him, like an uncle should.

  Michael and Alexis said emotional goodbyes as well, but Alexis held him longer than anyone else had. Other than Mrs. Morel, she seemed the most upset. Each of them embraced Aria as well and said goodnight. Mr. Morel helped his wife up—each member of the family had said something encouraging to her before taking their leave.

  Ian noticed that no one bothered to lock the door when they left. Considering what he and Aria just went through, that bothered him. “Mr. Morel,” he called out.

  His grandfather stopped near the stairs and looked over his shoulder. “Ian, I’m your grandfather. You can call me Poppa like everyone else, but if that makes you uncomfortable you can just call me Francis or Frank.”

  Ian tried the names out in his head, but none of them sounded right. “How about Pop Morel?” At that Mr. Morel smiled and nodded his consent. Then Ian continued, “I didn’t just come here to meet you all. I don’t feel comfortable staying here unless I tell you my purpose in coming.”

  “All right,” Mr. Morel said, helping his grieving wife up the bottom step, “let me get Emile to bed and show Aria your room, then you and I can have a talk.”

  Ian nodded. As Aria turned to him, he wanted to hug her, but he refrained. Only, she must have been thinking the same thing because she hugged him tight before following Pop Morel up the stairs.

  Sitting alone, Ian went over what he needed to say. He couldn’t stay here another minute, let alone a night, without letting his grandfather know that they were running from danger.

  When Pop Morel returned, he sat quietly while Ian told him that while he had always planned to come to them, he had sought them out now because he needed their help. He left out what he could of Aria’s assault but he basically laid everything out the way it happened.

  Pop Morel didn’t say anything when Ian finished so Ian filled the silence. “I don’t want to bring trouble to your doorstep, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to take her.”

  “You don’t have to explain your reasons for wanting to be with family when things go bad. It’s what family is for. We’ll do what we have to do to protect you both.”

  Ian shook his head. “I would never have come here if I thought they could find us. I took my mother’s file from the college years ago. You can believe me when I tell you that it was the only place she listed the name Morel. I doubt anyone who would want to hurt Aria would have a clue about this place.”

  “Then there are no worries.” His grandfather set back, but kept their eyes locked. “With that settled, I have to ask you if there’s something more going on between you and Aria now, other than your desire to keep her safe.”

  Ian sighed. “She told me she was pregnant the day my uncle’s men attacked her home. We’ve only been together the one time and my mind should be strictly on protecting her and the baby, but I just can’t stop thinking about us as more. She has no reason to want me in her life, and the more I think of wh
at brought us together…she couldn’t. I guess I should be grateful that she doesn’t want me dead or locked away somewhere.”

  “Son, maybe you can’t see it, but the way that young lady looks at you… She could have sat anywhere when she came into this room, but she moved to sit near you. When I showed her the room you’ll be sleeping in, she could have asked for a separate room, but you know what she asked me?” Pop Morel chuckled. “Well, you’ll see when you get upstairs.”

  Ian wondered what Aria could have asked and he was anxious to find out, but he wanted to really make sure that them staying in the Morel home was all right. “About the room,” he began, “we could stay at a hotel in town or something. I have over nine thousand dollars in cash left, so money isn’t a problem right now. Our arrival here was sudden and totally unexpected, and I don’t want to put you out or anything.”

  “Don’t be silly. Ian, you’re my grandson. This will always be your home. Your mother and I rarely saw things the same. She left here because of my stubbornness, changing her name and erasing us from her life forever. After a few years of not hearing from her and when our searching had dried up with nothing, I lost hope of ever seeing her again. Then you showed up today. I may not have my little girl, but you are a piece of her, and I’ll not turn you away.” Pop got to his feet with a determined look on his face. “Now, I need to get upstairs to your grandmother.”

  “Pop Morel,”—Ian stood—“I didn’t know my mother, so I can’t claim to know what she was thinking, but I know she must have cared a lot for you because one of the few things I was told was that she was adamant about my name. My full name is Ian François Howl.”

  Pop Morel stared at Ian with a glazed-over look for several heartbeats, then patted Ian on the shoulder as he choked back a sob. “Well, isn’t that something?” Then he smiled.

  MAKING AS LITTLE NOISE As possible, Ian silently entered the room Pop had pointed out to him, locking the door behind him. Inside, a king-size, country-white bed with platinum blue and brown sheets and a half-dozen matching pillows didn’t put a dent in the spacious room. Several large pieces of bedroom furniture and a sitting area also graced the space. Pictures, wall art, and assorted decorations completed the serene look.

  Ian noticed their bags on the bench seat at the foot of the bed, but he didn’t see Aria. Scanning the room, he saw steam slipping through a partially opened door and heard the unmistakable sounds of a shower running. He crossed the room and began to go through his bag when the shower cut off and the sound of humming filled the room. Is Aria happy? With all that’d happened he’d assumed she’d be tired and a bit crabby, but she was humming a tune that was slightly off key.

  Smiling, Ian kicked off his shoes and placed them under the bed, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the bench seat. He raised his arm as he crossed the room to the sitting area. Taking a seat, Ian inspected the site where he’d cut the chip out. It had been completely healed the morning he’d discovered Aria had fled his friend’s condo. He was shocked that he had no scab or felt any tenderness there; in fact, his skin was smooth, as if he’d never taken an X-Acto knife to the sensitive area.

  He thought about the various things happening to him physically, and suddenly the weight of his head seemed overwhelmingly heavy, so he let it fall back to the headrest and closed his eyes. Accelerated healing was one more piece to the puzzle he had to put together. What’s next?

  “The hot water is endless,” Aria said from behind him.

  He could hear the satisfaction in her voice, for something so trivial, and it made him want to tell her that hot water will never be an issue in their home. Furthermore, he wanted to tell her that he would never rest until she was satisfied in every way. That whether it be hot water or the moon, he will find a way to provide it. But he allowed the promise to dissolve in his throat before raising his head and watching her as she passed by.

  Ian sat up and, feeling like he was being pulled by some unseen force, he moved to the edge of the seat. Aria’s silky, dark brown hair was pulled into one long damp braid that hung over her shoulder. She wore a pale pink sleep tank that exposed the perfect mounds of her breasts as well as some of her flat stomach just below her navel. A pair of very short matching bottoms with yellow trim rode high up her creamy thighs. She sat on the edge of bed and produced a small bottle of lotion that she squeezed into her hand. She rubbed some over one of her feet, and for a minute he wished he was the creamy substance.

  “How does your body feel?” she asked.

  Mesmerized by an act as simple as her rubbing lotion on feet, Ian didn’t hear the question.

  Aria looked up at him. “Are you all tensed up still?”

  Ian tilted his head in response. “As stiff as a board,” he said, before he could stop himself. Her face reddened and he muttered a curse when he realized he’d spoken out loud. Smooth, asshole.

  Aria didn’t seem angry, just ruffled. “I asked Mr. Morel for some pain relieving cream. Your joints are probably sore from the fighting and traveling.”

  He doubted anything other than being inside her could help his stiff joint. Although he had kept that thought to himself. Original and mature, he thought. I need a cold shower. Now. Without thinking, Ian crossed the room to the bathroom. A thud and a gasp caused him to stick his head out of the door.

  “What happened?”

  Aria had dropped the small bottle of scented lotion to the floor, but she made no moves to get it. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it. Fear and excitement coursed through her as she stared at Ian. It reflected on her face. Ian looked at her, confusion on his face.

  He took a step out of the bathroom, moving slowly toward her. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “You just moved like… like the Flash.” She gaped at him, stunned. He looked even more confused now. “The Flash, you know the superhero that moved with lightning speed.” She could tell the description hadn’t clicked for him yet. She added “DC Comics…” There it was; a flicker of understanding lit his eye.

  “Oh. I’m more of a Marvel kind of guy.” Ian joked as he looked over to the chair he had been sitting in, and then a look of fear and astonishment washed over him. The chair was a good distance away from the bathroom and he had moved from one to the other in a ‘flash’. He looked back at her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t conscious of… It won’t happen again. You’re safe with me, Aria.” His voice sounded pained and he hung his head.

  Now Aria knew she hadn’t imagined it when he’d kicked that car like it was a soccer ball, at his trainer. But she was curious. What he’d done just seconds ago, what he could do, it embarrassed him. Why? Didn’t he know that people would kill for those kinds of abilities? But it was clearly written on his face that he didn’t want them.

  She wondered if he told the Morels about it. But as soon as the question came to her, the answer did too. He wasn’t comfortable, or he probably didn’t even know exactly what he was capable of. Add that to his anxiety and the angry thought that he had been used in some kind of science experiment. He was clearly uneasy; Ian wouldn’t share this with anyone.

  She just happened to be here to witness it.

  “The way you move,” she said, “it’s amazing. Even when you move ‘normally’ it’s like you’re moving to music. You have grace and beauty in your every step, and with the speed added… It’s lovely to watch. The only thing wrong I can see is that when you do move that fast, no one will see how poetic your movements are.”

  “Thanks.” Ian rubbed his head, but she could tell he was hiding a smile. Then he frowned. Just like that, he’d shut down. “I’m going to take a shower now.”

  Aria waited for him to close the door then she picked up the lotion and began smoothing it over her skin again. An image of Ian’s hands rubbing the lotion on her instead popped in her head, causing her skin to instantly heat. A throbbing of need began to vibrate through her body. At that moment she wanted Ian more than she’d ever wanted a
nything else in her life. Only she couldn’t risk her heart, not full-out anyway.

  She knew she felt something for him that she couldn’t really put into words. Aria also knew that the bond they shared due to her trauma, the baby inside her—because he was sure he was the father, and their travels together would be life-long. It was clear that their relationship was going to grow, but the question is, in what way? Whether she wanted him sexually was not the question. She did. But did she want him bad enough to accept whatever kind of relationship he wanted?

  From what little she knew, Ian wasn’t boyfriend material. He was young, excruciatingly handsome, wealthy, and protective to a fault, but he was also emotionally guarded, too damn charismatic, and on his father’s side of the family were emotionally stunted males and a mad scientist. Ian was raised without the kind of love that breeds love. What if he was incapable of such a simple, free, yet beyond-important emotion? And if he was, how could he love his child, or her for that matter?

  Focusing on his status in life alone, Ian was totally out of her league. He was scholarly and financially set for the rest of his life with a wealthy senator for a father. Debutantes and models were more his taste—he’d confirmed that during their ‘get to know you’ talk on the train. Plus there was that little issue of her introduction to sex—rape 101 with half a dozen assholes enrolled and satisfied.

  Aria fell back on the bed and sighed. Add in a non-consensual pregnancy and his uncle who didn’t want her to be anything to Ian, other than a victim. Love between the two of them was a fantasy