Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3

by Rey, Rosemary

  In deference to her being my mother I continued to listen to her say, “Even if you don’t think we suffered through your divorce from Sonia, we did. We saw all the hopes and dreams of you finally committing to someone and starting a family fall away. We expected your divorce to stop you from being able to move on so quickly. Now you tell us an even more shocking story where you’ve reacted without thinking through the immense consequences.”

  “She signed a prenup,” I retorted.

  “That’s not the point, Mathias,” she looked at my father for help. “The prenup for your fortune is not the point. I don’t care about your money. If you lost it all, you’d still be my son. Did you set terms about how you would move on if it doesn’t work with her? How it leaves you? How each time you break off with a ‘wife’ you withdraw more and more from us?” She said.

  My eyes opened wide, not fully comprehending where all this was coming from. My father rested his arm around her shoulders.

  “We will support you in whatever you need, Mattie, but we’re not so sure this is a healthy relationship. From the beginning until now, it has been tumultuous. Do you think it’s possible you’re just so desperate to feel like you fit into a definition of family you don’t wait to assess the woman you’re choosing to spend the rest of your ‘time’ with?” Dad asked.

  “Life with, Dad,” I corrected. “I’ve thought it through. When I lost Perla, I knew I would never feel love like that again. With Sonia, I was happy to get rid of her. I didn’t think twice to give her the money necessary to have her walk away for good. With Perla, I will spend every dime I have to keep her. Why? Because she expects nothing from me but my time and affection, and no one else wanted that from me. All I’ve ever received from her was unconditional love.”

  “Are you sure? We’ve heard the stories of all the young women who would have loved to have your love and affection and would have given you unconditional love. What about Tracy?” Ma asked.

  “Who?”

  “Tracy. The only young lady you brought home . . . from college? We saw the way she looked at you and clung to you, but did you give her a nanosecond of attention?” She informed.

  I rifled through my memory bank and remembered the pretty college girl I met on the unisex dorm floor. I’d slept with her a few times during first semester of my sophomore year. She claimed she had nowhere to go for spring break, and I offered to fly her home to stay with my family. But when she demanded I give her more, be exclusive when I was only twenty-years-old, I learned in that moment to state my expectations and interests. I’ve never led any women on thereafter; except to keep Perla.

  “I was a kid, ma,” I gritted.

  “Maybe so, but you haven’t truly given a woman an opportunity to get to know you on a deeper level. The one woman you want, but may have lost by your behavior, you give her your fortune and essentially force her to marry you. You bought her,” she said.

  I hadn’t described what I did in those terms, but my mother was a wise woman and what I couldn’t perceive, she dissected for me. I swallowed a hard knot in my throat.

  “My actions were a mere formality to the inevitable. We’re now married. I have all of my fortune intact. All I want is my wife back. I came here for some support. Not a lecture at thirty-four because my mommy is upset I didn’t turn out as she’d hoped,” I spat.

  I stood to leave, and my father’s booming voice started.

  “Mathias Antonio Patrick Keene, apologize to your mother,” I stood and looked him square in the eyes.

  “I apologize . . . What is this really about, Mama?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is it that Perla doesn’t fall in line with your ideal of a good doctor’s wife?” I asked.

  The range of emotions on her face proved I made her think of her own biases.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Mathias.”

  “The fact that Sonia came from a good name and prominent family doesn’t have any bearing on whether you’ll accept Perla does it? Her background isn’t ‘perfect’. She isn’t in our social circle. Sonia, on the other hand was perfect, wasn’t she? In reality, she was the worst choice, and tried to do more damage than Perla ever dared to do. Does Perla not fall in line with your ‘group’ and their expectation for their children to keep the group going?” I asked.

  My mother stopped my father from responding. My parents were members of a secret, privileged society, which assisted and encouraged their children to continue the legacy of excellence. Judge Calvin Porter, who married us, is another member. The senior members’ connections have paved the path for all of us second generation members. Other than using Judge Porter to marry us, I’ve rejected their support. With the group’s exclusivity arises expectations of the second generation members and the spouses they select to carry on the legacy. My Pentagon ownership opened many doors for me. The money I’ve generated from all of my endeavors opens paths, which the common man doesn’t have easy access.

  “When Perla comes back, we need to meet her. If she’s to be part of this family, you can’t keep her away from us; coveting her like a little doll you don’t want to share. I need to see for myself what you see. And Mathias, I can’t guarantee I will embrace her as a daughter just because your mind is clouded with an abundance of hormones,” she said without answering my questions.

  Instead of continuing the argument, when I was already knocked down, I nodded and walked to my bedroom to hold vigil with my cell phone.

  PERLA

  The ocean water was warm and frothy, reaching my calves, as I awaited Brady’s return. I hadn’t frolicked in ocean water in so long, I couldn’t remember the last time. It may have been a few years when Ben decided we would take a day off from work, and we went to Revere Beach. Carson and I failed to schedule our beach day as I’d requested. While I believed I would have the opportunity to reunite with my family and friends and experience all the things I’d already planned on, it seemed so far off. I didn’t know how I could manage all my emotions with Matt being so far from me. I wondered if he got word of my being safe and date of expected return.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” Brady said. The sound of his voice awoke me from a daydream. His smile was wide and full of promise when we locked eyes.

  “You can keep your penny because my thoughts are not for sale,” I returned solemnly.

  His smile faltered for a second. When it returned, he walked closer to me.

  “Are you ready for the grand tour?” He asked.

  “Lead the way.” I answered instead of answering, ‘If it gets me that much closer to going home,’ which I held at bay.

  As we walked, I dared to ask, “Did you send word that I’m safe and will be returning Friday?” I looked at him and saw his jaw flex. I was sure our real life was the last thing he wanted to think about while we were in paradise.

  “Yes. I sent word to Pentagon.”

  We walked in silence to the house toward the garage, which contained a convertible sports car, a reconditioned antique Jeep, a motorcycle, and an all-terrain vehicle. He had me mount the ATV, buckling me into the harness. My heart palpitated as his hands brushed all over my torso, tugging the belts tautly over my body. My skin prickled and I felt the blood rising up to my face, overheating me in the already oppressive humid air. I’d hoped he didn’t see the involuntary reaction of my body. I cursed myself for feeling a pull by Brady. I’d resisted any feelings for him before, but suddenly couldn’t stop feeling ‘something’.

  I attempted to look away. Before doing so, I saw his tattooed bicep of a pentagram encircled with dates and what looked like geographic positioning coordinates listed within the ring of the circle.

  “What does this tattoo mean?” I asked, indicating with my glare on the design.

  He turned on the vehicle, letting it turn over, and said, “It’s to commemorate when we started the business. Not everyone is willing to mark up their bodies, but I was excited to get it when I came of age. My mother wasn’t goi
ng to consent to my getting one before the age limit. Each point of the pentagram represents each of us. The top has the date in which we brought our hands together in a circle and made an oath, then broke hands, creating our corporation. The coordinates is the location of our boarding school at the precise place where we sat and decided how to make all of this happen. We used to break hands at the end of our meetings like teams do during a sporting event. Sometime over the years we broke away from tradition,” he revealed with a solemn grin. I was astonished by his dedication. He clearly put a lot of thought into the tattoo.

  “But why a pentagram when a pentagon or a star would look less . . .” I started.

  “Cultish?” he concluded my query.

  “Yeah,” I nodded as we exited the garage toward the first spot he wanted to show me.

  “Makes me look tougher,” he beamed. I had to laugh. “Do you dislike tattoos?” he asked, fearing I would be turned off.

  “I don’t dislike them. They’re not the first thing I look for in a man, but if he carries them well, then I shouldn’t be one to judge.” He remained silent, absorbing my viewpoint.

  “Good because I don’t think I’d want to endure hours of painful laser removal if you didn’t,” he concluded.

  “Brady, you shouldn’t be changing anything inherent or adapted just to please a woman, or vice versa.” I stopped myself from comparing my relationship with Matt and how we’ve accepted each other as we naturally are.

  “Sometimes, it’s worth it,” he said. His eyes remained locked ahead.

  A sense of dread rushed through me. I feared our time together would make his crush worse.

  We toured the entire acreage of land and beach. He explained in great detail how he purchased many plots, removing homes and restoring the natural vegetation. I was intrigued by his plans to build a couple of small guest cottages on each side of the main house to lodge visitors; whether family, friends or business associates. The land was serene. No other inhabitants or noise from a resort invaded the air space surrounding Brady’s property. It felt like a little island of its own. Brady smiled whenever I complimented his homestead with ‘your island’. We talked about his revitalization of the local agriculture, fishing industry, and hospitality. If he didn’t have his private oasis on this sector of the Dominican Republic, he would have Pentagon build a resort.

  We returned for a homemade lunch prepared by Margarita, dining outdoors under an awning. She spared no local delicacies. I sampled a bite of everything. He attempted to keep me at ease throughout our time together. I dared say, I liked being with him, learning more about him and his interests. However, sudden reminders of my captivity on his estate unnerved me. When I grew quiet, I excused myself and asked for some rest. He nodded, looking forlorn and worried.

  I made my way to the bathroom, and turned on the shower to rain cool water over me. I’d hoped the water would stop me from heaving my lunch. Pulling off my clothing, I entered the water and let it cascade over my body. I prayed as I let the water symbolically wash away my guilt for feeling a torrent of conflicting emotions.

  For a brief moment, I felt relaxed and at home. But the worst was spending time with Brady. I felt I was betraying Matt. While I would never let anything sexual happen between me and Brady, I couldn’t help the strong feelings, which were blurring the lines. My stomach roiled, and suddenly I threw up. I cried my eyes out as I cleaned up. I showered slowly, trembling from a chill and exhaustion. I wrapped myself in the warm towel and climbed into bed, enclosing my entire body within the covers. I continued to cry until I fell asleep.

  *****

  Once again, Margarita awakened me. The sun was starting to set in the sky. “Don Shay wants to know if you’re feeling well,” she said, expecting a response. I stretched and thought of my response.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired from the entire ordeal,” I answered.

  My body would have loved to have slept until Friday when I was due to return to Boston. I was counting the slow moving minutes.

  “He would like you to come down and have some drinks downstairs. Maybe play a game in the game room before dinner?” She asked expectant.

  “In a few minutes, I’ll be down.” When she left the room, I rose and remembered I had missed our interview with the police. Once I dressed, I walked to the downstairs room, coaching myself to behave.

  “There you are, looking even more beautiful as ever,” he said. I wanted to grimace, but I managed a thin lipped grin. “Are you better?”

  “Yes. I was tired from the adrenalin of yesterday and lack of sleep,” I informed. He nodded.

  “For a minute I thought you were actively trying to ignore me,” he stated.

  I shook my head ‘no’, knowing he couldn’t deal with the truth.

  “It doesn’t seem like there’s much to do,” I stated honestly.

  “There are tons of things to do,” he burst. “We’ll go out on the water tomorrow. We can fish,” he decided excitedly.

  “There’s no boat,” I said, hoping to get out of going in the ocean.

  “Not here, but we’ll go to the marina and get on the yacht. I’ll have it ready for tomorrow. We’ll go after breakfast,” Brady said.

  “A yacht?” I thought out loud, “Is this what you’ve wanted?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This . . .” I turned around, extending my hands in the air to take in the mini empire.

  Catching my meaning, he said, “I wanted something better than living in a two bedroom apartment in a dilapidated three family house in Roxbury, yeah,” he replied.

  “Isn’t this all much too much? I know you’ve worked hard for this . . . and you’ve done extremely well . . . you should be proud . . . But I wouldn’t be able to live like this,” I admitted.

  “Like what?” He crossed his arms defensively.

  “Like you’ll never have enough . . . whatever you do, you’ll need more . . . and when do you end the acquisitions, and the builds with the finest tiles, or having a panic room,” I brought my hand to my head, feeling overwhelmed by the thought.

  “Isn’t that what you’re planning to do with Matt? He has as much wealth as I do, probably even more, because he’s really great at growing wealth. He has cars, real estate, a plane, and two yachts, one in Maine and the other overseas. Those would be things you’d enjoy as his wife. Would you tell him it’s too much?” He informed.

  Shocked by the added information of Matt’s possessions, I turned away sheepishly, but not before he caught the surprise in my eyes.

  “Didn’t he tell you of all the extravagance he owns? I mean you two worked through a prenuptial agreement. All of his things would have been listed out for you to be fully aware of,” Brady informed.

  “Our prenup wasn’t conventional. He gave me everything and the prenup was to convince me to take an overly generous settlement if we divorced, so I really didn’t care to know of all he owns. I don’t intend to claim any of his riches if we ever divorce,” I concluded. The thought of Matt having even more wealth than I was experiencing with Brady was concerning. I didn’t know if I would be able to live with excess or even live without it once I’d become accustomed.

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about it since you’re not married.”

  “Are you trying to start another argument?” I asked, cutting my eyes into him.

  He stopped, and looked at me reflectively.

  “Do you want to know why I started this whole venture?” he asked. When I didn’t respond, he asked, “Do you?” Stated more tersely, causing me to nod.

  “I did it because I wanted to be able to take care of the people I love. My mom. My brothers. My friends. But mostly, I thought about how I could take care of you. Once I learned about your mom’s passing, I was even more determined to make it big. It was my hope to reconnect with you when you were done with your ballet training. Then when your brother died, I’d wanted to take care of you, knowing you would be on your own. Later, I learned you quit dancin
g, but not before dancing in Vegas.” He revealed. I was surprised by his revelation. I must have conveyed it in my look because he continued, “I saw you dancing at the burlesque club.”

  “What? When?”

  “We were in Vegas celebrating Matt’s acceptance within his residency.”

  “Did he see me dance?” I cried.

  Brady’s eyes widened upon seeing my desolation. He shook his head. I was relieved. It was a tame set, but I didn’t need Matt to see me in that light; especially not with all the drunk men who had expectations of more than just a dance.

  “No. We had been partying all weekend. He’d decided to call it a night because he was returning to Baltimore to finish his semester before moving to Chicago for his residency,” he informed. I learned so much about Matt from the man trying to court me away from him.

  “How did you know it was me?” I asked.

  “The combination of your smile and the sparkle in your eyes, besides you haven’t changed a bit.”

  “I doubt I smiled much or had any light in my eyes at the time. Working by selling my near naked image to drunken men didn’t help my self-confidence,” I responded honestly. “Why didn’t you confront me? At the very least, it should have turned you off to see me perform,” I reproached.

  “It was clear it wouldn’t be helpful to confront you at the time and nothing would have turned me off to you. It only made me feel more obligated to you. I thought you were straying into something bad. By the time I returned to the club to check on you, you were gone. I was told you returned home. Then I learned you quit dancing entirely and started college,” I nodded. “Why business administration?”

  “I’d met Ben and he suggested we could work together at his family’s business. I was interested in dating him. Not having enough experience dating and never really having a long term relationship, I was hoping to keep him interested.”

  “Were you with him when you went to Vegas?” He asked.