by Linda Turner
Since Peter McGrath had a full head of brown hair, just like his son, Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh. “No kidding? So he wears a wig, does he? And all this time, I thought that was his real hair.”
“Hey, he got that rug from the best wigmaker in Europe. The Queen gets all her stuff from the same guy. Nothing but the best for Dad.”
When it came to rugs, he could lie like one. For the rest of the meal—and during the drive back to her apartment afterwards—he told one outrageous story after another. By the time they reached her front door, she was in tears again, but this time from laughter. And she could have kissed him for it. Thanks to him, she’d been able to forget, at least for a little while, the kisses Richard had forced on her, and she would always be grateful to Austin for that.
But as he unlocked her front door for her, she knew the frightening memories would start pushing in on her the second she was once again alone with her own thoughts. And she dreaded it.
Lost in her own musings, she didn’t realize he was watching her until he said quietly, “I can stay for a while, if you like. I was just going to go back to the hotel and write up my weekly report for Joe. I can do that later if you want me to stay.”
He made the offer casually, as if it were no big deal, but Rebecca knew he’d noticed how uneasy she was. He really was a sweet man, she thought. And she’d have liked nothing better than for him to stay another couple of hours, just until it was time for her to go to bed. But he’d done so much for her already. She couldn’t continue to accept his help. Sooner or later, she was going to have to be alone with her own thoughts, and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be.
“I would love for you to stay,” she told him candidly as she turned to face him, “but I can’t. I have to deal with this, and I have to do it alone. But you don’t know how much I appreciate everything you did for me this evening.” Sudden tears welling in her eyes, she smiled mistily. “I’d hug you if I could, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now.”
“It’s not always going to be this way,” he promised her. “Just give yourself time. And even though I understand why you don’t want me to stay, you’re not alone. If you need someone to talk to, call me. Even if it’s the middle of the night. Okay?”
Touched, she nodded. “I will,” she said huskily. “Thanks.”
Leaving her was the hardest thing Austin had ever done. She had no business being alone after what she’d been through, but he couldn’t very well demand that she let him stay. Men had made too many demands of her as it was. On this, at least, she was calling the shots. And it wasn’t as if he was abandoning her. He would call her later to see how she was doing. In the meantime, he had something else to take care of.
His face grim, he stopped at the first convenience store and went inside to borrow the phone book to look up an address. Two minutes later, he was on his way to Richard Foster’s house. It was time the two of them had a talk.
Steaming, he told himself that was all he was going to do—talk to the man. He wasn’t a Neanderthal who let his temper control his common sense, he intended to be civilized. He’d knock on the door, say what he had to say, and leave. And if Richard Foster had a single brain cell in his head, he’d never touch Rebecca again or so much as look at her wrong. Because if he did, and Austin heard about it, he’d make him wish he’d never been born.
A muscle ticked at his jaw as he thought of the terror Rebecca had suffered because of the jackass’s insensitivity and selfishness. He turned down Foster’s street and easily found the small bungalow where he lived. Located on a corner in a quiet, older neighborhood that had become trendy again, it was set well back from the street and had a red Explorer in the drive.
“Good,” Austin said in satisfaction as he parked at the curb. The lights were on in the front window. He’d make this short and sweet, then get back to his hotel so he’d be there if Rebecca called. Before the night was through, he had a feeling she was going to need him, and he intended to be there for her.
All his good intentions flew right out the window, however, the second Foster answered his knock. Austin had never met him before, but there was no question in his mind that this was Rebecca’s boss and the same man who had grabbed her and forced her to accept his kisses. There were scratch marks all over his face.
His eyes narrowing on those scratches, Austin hung on to his self-control just long enough to growl, “Richard Foster?”
Behind the lenses of his glasses, the other man’s beady little eyes were wary. “Yes?”
“You son of a bitch!” Rage temporarily consuming his common sense, he moved lightning-quick and grabbed him by the throat. A split second later, he shoved him up against the door to his own house and couldn’t have cared less that they were in full view of the neighbors or anyone who chose to drive by. All he could think of was that this snivelling little piece of nothing had not only forced his kisses on Rebecca, but he’d scared her so badly that she’d had to fight her way out of his arms. And by God, Austin was going to make him admit it!
“What did you do to Rebecca?”
“Nothing!”
“Wrong answer,” he snarled, shaking him like a rag doll. “Try again.”
“I thought she wanted it—”
“Oh, really?” he sneered. “That’s why she nearly scratched your eyes out? Because she wanted you?”
Obviously not a stupid man, Foster realized he’d gone too far and quickly tried to backpedal. “No! I—I misunderstood. She said she c-cared about me, and I thought she m-meant…”
“That she wanted you to scare her to death?” Austin finished for him when he hesitated. “Is that how you show a woman you’re attracted to her? By forcing yourself on her?”
They both knew that was exactly what he’d done, so there was nothing he could do but admit that he was totally and completely in the wrong. Pale and shaken, he swallowed and said hoarsely, “I screwed up. Okay? I never meant to scare her. I just lost my head.”
And because of his lack of control, Rebecca was the one who had suffered. And that suffering wouldn’t end any time soon, Austin thought bitterly. This was not only a friend who had betrayed her, but her boss, a man she had to face and work with every day, whether she wanted to or not. And that sickened him.
His hands tightening ever so slightly on Foster, Austin leaned in close and glared at him nose to nose. “Any man who hurts a woman is a chicken-livered coward,” he said coldly. “You took advantage of your position as her boss and her friend, and you terrorized her. And I’d like to beat the hell out of you for that.”
His eyes huge behind the lenses of his glasses, he blanched. “I’ll apologize. I swear I will.”
“No, what you’re going to do is stay as far away from her as your job allows,” he retorted. “When you do have to talk to her, you’re going to be pleasant and keep your remarks impersonal. And if you ever lay a finger on her again, you’re going to get another visit from me. Next time I won’t be nearly as nice. Do I make myself understood?”
Foster nodded numbly. “Y-yes. Perfectly. There’s no reason for another visit.”
Releasing him, Austin dusted his hands as if he’d just touched something distasteful. “Let’s keep it that way.” Satisfied he’d made his point, he turned and walked back to his car.
The second Rebecca was alone, the silence of the apartment closed around her, and all she could hear was the echo of her own thoughts. And that was one place she was determined not to go. Her heart pounding, she rushed into the kitchen and began to pull everything out of her cabinets. For some time now she hadn’t been happy with where she had things stored and had been thinking about rearranging the entire kitchen. Now was as good a time as any to get started.
Working furiously, she piled pots and pans and dishes on the table and counter, then turned her attention to unloading the shelves of the small pantry next to the refrigerator. Soon, the kitchen chairs were straining under their load, and by eleven, she had a true me
ss on her hands. But, she couldn’t have been happier. It would take her hours to set everything straight again.
Humming one of the kiddie songs she’d heard at the pizza parlor, she took her time deciding where she wanted things and didn’t look at the clock again. The next time she looked up, there was nothing left on the tabletop and counters to put away, and it was nearly two o’clock in the morning.
For all of ten seconds, she seriously considered moving from the kitchen to the hall closet and starting the procedure all over again, but she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Flipping off the lights, she headed for her bedroom. It was time to go to bed. She’d put it off long enough.
She should have fallen asleep the second her head hit the pillow. She was certainly tired enough. Every bone in her body ached, and she just wanted to go to sleep and forget the whole day. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. The minute she turned off the lights and closed her eyes, Richard reached out of the darkness of her memory to grab her.
Her heart in her throat, she bolted upright in bed, gasping. “Oh, God!”
Shuddering, she couldn’t have said how long she sat there, cursing her tears and the night and the stupid fear that wouldn’t let her lie back down even though she knew she was perfectly safe. She wouldn’t do this! she told herself fiercely. She wouldn’t let another horrible man haunt her nights. Not again. She had to find a way to put it behind her.
When the phone rang suddenly, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Horrified, she stared at it in the darkness. Richard. It had to be Richard. Somehow he’d known she was thinking about him and what he’d done, and he’d decided to torture her for rejecting him by calling her in the middle of the night.
“Don’t answer it!”
It wasn’t until she heard herself speak sharply in the dark that she realized she was cowering in her bed as if she expected him to reach through the phone and grab her. And that infuriated her. What was he doing to her? What was she letting him do to her?
Furious with him and herself, she snatched up the phone. “Hello?”
“Rebecca? Are you all right?”
For a moment, nothing registered except that her caller was a man, just as she’d feared. Then she recognized Austin’s voice. “Austin!” Wilting, she swallowed a shaky sob. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine. The phone just startled me.”
“I know it’s late, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I guess I woke you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no,” she assured him, “don’t apologize. Trust me, I was awake.”
“I was afraid of that. Would you like to talk about it?”
After avoiding the subject all evening, she would have sworn she didn’t. But as she snuggled back down in bed with his soft, husky voice in her ear, she somehow felt safer than she had in a very long time and the words just came tumbling out. “When the phone rang, I thought it was him, and I was furious that I was scared. I’m just so tired of being scared.”
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“As long as I can remember,” she replied simply. “When I was a little girl, my mother would go out drinking at night and leave me at home by myself.”
“My God, how old were you?”
She shrugged. “Six or seven.”
“You must have been terrified!”
“I was.”
“And your mother didn’t care?”
“She didn’t care about anything when she was thirsty,” she said flatly. Nothing had mattered except where the next bottle of rum was coming from. Not even the men she’d brought home with her. Especially the men. She’d taken up with ex-cons and thugs when she’d had to, and on more than one occasion, the cost of a drink had been a beating or rough sex. She hadn’t cared. The next night, she’d gone out and done it all over again.
Something in her tone must have given her away her thoughts because he said suddenly, “You’re thinking about that monster that tried to hurt you, aren’t you? Her boyfriend.”
“There were always boyfriends,” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “A lot of them. I would try to be in bed before she got home. When I was eleven, I started barricading myself in at night.”
“Did it help?”
“For a while. Then she took up with Frank.”
Dark, ugly memories bombarded her from every side, sickening her, but with Austin on the other end of the line, murmuring reassuringly to her, she was able to tell him things that she’d told only one other person—Meredith. “He was a horrible man,” she said, repulsed. “He’d served time for nearly killing his ex-wife, and I think he had a thing for children. He would watch me, and it used to make my skin crawl.”
“Did you tell your mother?”
In the dark, Rebecca smiled slightly at the question. He didn’t understand what it was like to grow up with a mother who loved her addiction more than she loved her own child, and she couldn’t blame him for that. Most people who’d had a loving, caring mother couldn’t comprehend how anyone could put their child in danger, then turn a blind eye to it.
“She just told me to stay out of his way.”
“She didn’t throw him out?”
“Frank brought her a bottle every day when he came home,” she said simply. “She wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“So you ran away?”
“After he trapped me in the bathroom when I was taking a shower. I knew then I had to get out. I left that night after he and Mom passed out.”
“And lived on the street,” he said quietly. “You were fourteen, for God’s sake! How did you survive?”
That was a question she’d asked herself countless times over the years. Most fourteen-year-olds didn’t even do their own laundry, let alone know how to make it on their own in a cold, dark world. She’d just done what she had to do. “I didn’t have any choice. Anything was better than going back to Mom…and Frank.”
She told him then how she’d panhandled to get money and slept under bushes in the park at night, where no one could see her. And how she’d taken up with a stray dog she’d named Butch, and he’d protected her during the long, lonely summer nights. But then the dogcatcher took Butch away, and once again, she was all alone. Fall, then winter came, and the weather turned bad. After spending a night in the rain and getting sick, she’d felt like she had no choice but to go to a homeless shelter.
“It was a mistake,” she confided. “I know that now, but at the time it seemed like the only logical thing to do. My mother had pneumonia once, and I was afraid I was getting it. So I went to the shelter…and nearly got raped again.”
“But you weren’t raped,” he reminded her. “You fought him off and there were people there to help you. I know it had to be a horrible experience for you, but from there, you went to the Hopechest Ranch and met Meredith. Instead of thinking about the attack, try to think of that.”
“But I’m such an emotional cripple.”
She expected him to sympathize with her—instead, he laughed. “Are you kidding? You’re the bravest woman I know.”
“Yeah, right,” she retorted, chuckling. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t even date!”
“Because you don’t like starting a relationship you can’t continue,” he tossed back. “It takes guts to do that.”
“But I’m afraid of men.”
“No, you’re afraid of intimacy,” he corrected her quietly. “There’s a difference. If you were afraid of men, there wouldn’t be any in your life. But you’re friends with Richard—or at least you were until he gave you a reason not to be. And I like to think we’re friends. Granted, it’s not like I’m a stranger on the street—we have a family connection—but if you were afraid of me, you would have kicked me out of your life the first time I kissed you.”
Stunned, Rebecca realized he was exactly right. All this time she’d thought that she had an aversion to men because of Frank and everything else that had happened to her
after she ran away from home, but that wasn’t the case at all. She did like men! She’d enjoyed their company, their sense of humor, everything about them…except intimacy. Why had it taken her so long to see that?
Not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Do you know that you’re the first person who’s ever pointed that out to me? I can’t believe I didn’t see it myself. Thank you! God, I feel so much better! Maybe there’s hope for me, after all.”
Wishing she could hug him, she lay in the dark and talked to him for hours. The next time she looked at the luminous dial of her clock on the nightstand, it was four o’clock in the morning.
“Oh, my God! I can’t believe I’ve kept you talking most of the night. We both have to work tomorrow.”
Far from concerned, he only laughed. “You mean today. If we hang up now, you can still catch a couple of hours sleep. Load up on coffee on your way to work, and you’ll be fine.”
Still smiling, Rebecca wished him good night and hung up, sure she’d never be able to sleep simply because she was feeling so wonderful. But the second she punched her pillow into the right shape and closed her eyes, she realized just how tired she really was. She sighed, and within minutes she was asleep and dreaming of Austin.
Two hours later, Rebecca stood in front of the mirror on her bedroom door and surveyed herself critically. Dressed in a pale yellow summer suit with a white blouse, she looked cool and professional, and that was no accident. She’d deliberately chosen the most sedate outfit she had so Richard couldn’t accuse her of wearing something flirty to encourage him.
Her stomach knotting just at the thought of facing him, she would have given anything to call in sick. But she wouldn’t stay home and cower in her apartment like she had something to be ashamed of. She hadn’t done anything except trust the wrong man.
That wasn’t a mistake she would make again.
Still, walking into the school fifteen minutes later was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Invariably, Richard usually stood right outside his office in the hall, greeting students and teachers alike as they walked into the building. Braced for a cold, unpleasant scene, she dragged in a calming breath and stepped inside…only to discover that he was nowhere in sight.