by Kelley, HD
Scattered Thoughts
Betrayed by Love, Book 1
HD KELLEY
© 2016 HD Kelley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real person, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.
This book is intended for mature adults only.
ISBN: 0-9974335-5-8
ISBN-13: 978-0-9974335-5-5
PUBLISHED BY GREEN WAY PUBLISHING
www.greenwaypublishing.com
Disclaimer:
This book is not suitable for younger readers. There is strong language, adult situations, and some violence.
Dedication
A special thank you goes out to my family for their patience during this journey, and to my best friend, Christine, for her encouragement in the early stages, without which I may not have finished. And a very special thank you to God for giving me the courage to follow my dreams.
Scattered Thoughts
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Contact
HD Kelley
Chapter One
My eyelids were heavy and I struggled to hold them open. Something was covering my face. I pulled my arms toward it but they wouldn’t move. I pulled again, even harder this time, still nothing. My arms were tied. My heart started to race and my breathing quickened. I twisted and turned, tugging against the restraints, trying to get free.
“Welcome back,” a raspy voice whispered breathlessly against my ear. My body stiffened when I smelled it, alcohol and tobacco plus something else; a familiar sweet smell.
“Who are you?” I opened my mouth to ask but no sound came out. I couldn’t speak. Everything was moving in slow motion.
There was a faint noise in the background. I concentrated hard on the sound, blocking out everything else around me. Violins and flutes were flirtatiously moving through the melody. I’d heard it before but couldn’t place it now. My head was too foggy. The music was too low.
He ran his mouth down my cheek, stopping at my chin, biting it softly. His hand was in my hair. He pulled hard, jerking my head back, exposing my neck. His mouth was on mine. My jaw tightened as I pressed my lips together, trying my hardest to resist his efforts. He pulled my hair harder. When I cried out he won, pushing his tongue deep inside my mouth in a hardened kiss. His taste was even worse than his smell.
“Stop!” I pleaded when he finally pulled away, but my voice was barely audible. He released my hair and the music suddenly got louder. I recognized the eerie sound of the church bells; Dreams of a Witches’ Sabbath. My body tensed once more as the bassoons and tubas barked out the haunting chant for the dead. My heart was beating so fast it left me breathless.
“Beg me,” he whispered, his mouth against my ear once again.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Please,” I begged.
A sudden pain in my ribs made me lose my breath. “Please what?” he shouted. I opened my mouth to answer but was still to breathless to make a sound. “Please what?” he screamed. The pain came again before I could answer that had me gasping for air that time.
“Stop! Please stop!” I said with panted breaths.
“Not until it’s gone, Bella. All of it.” He turned my head to the side and I felt a sharp pinch on my neck. My eyelids closed. I wanted to open them again but they were too heavy.
“What’s gone…?” I asked, my voice fading fast.
• • • • •
I jolted upright in bed. Sweat covered my body, my face was flush, my breathing ragged. “It was only a nightmare, Izzy,” I said out loud trying to reassure myself of that now. I took a few deep breaths in an attempt to slow my breathing and calm my racing heart. In through my nose and out through my mouth, focusing on each breath as it passed my lips.
It was still dark outside, too early to be up really, but I knew I’d never go back to sleep now. Not with the memory of that nightmare still fresh in my mind. My head felt foggy, a side effect of waking up breathless I suppose, but I did my best to shake it off as I crawled slowly out of bed.
My whole body objected as I stood. I grabbed the half empty bottle of Advil off the nightstand and popped two pills into my mouth, swallowing them without water.
A sharp pain pierced my side when I pulled my nightshirt over my head but I ignored it like I had all the rest. They were only dreams after all; the pain couldn’t possibly be real. I continued to dress for my morning workout then headed downstairs to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
The moon was reflecting off the surface of the water through the bay window in the breakfast nook. I stared out into the darkness, quickly getting lost in the peacefulness of the predawn hours, something I’d been doing a lot of these past four months. Sleep had quickly become a fading memory since that package arrived.
I’d thought it was a birthday present when the courier handed it to me. It had been my birthday after all and the box was wrapped in beautiful pink and silver paper. Only it wasn’t a gift at all. No, it was my worst nightmare coming true; a box full of pictures of naked women and a letter claiming my husband of nineteen years was a sexual sadist.
There were dozens of photographs. Women trussed up in a myriad of sexual positions, suspended from the ceiling by chains and leather cuffs, tied to a bed, to a wooden cross. Red marks and bruises all over their bodies, masks covering their faces effectively hiding their identities.
Tears pricked my eyes as I recalled the moment I’d confronted Spencer with the contents of that package. His eyes turned to stone when he saw them. A cold look I’d never seen there before. He’d insisted he didn’t know those women. He’d demanded I believe it wasn’t him positioned just far enough out of frame that his face was never completely visible.
“Damn it, Bella. You have to believe me. That isn’t me,” he’d said.
“If it isn’t you then why were they hand delivered to me?” I’d shouted, unable to hide the disgust, the hurt, the anger I was feeling. “Why the hell would someone send me this trash then?” I’d demanded to know.
“To hurt us,” he’d said simply, his icy stare still etched in my memory. He’d begged me to believe him but I’d filed for divorce instead.
“What if it wasn’t him in those pictures?” I thought now. Te
ars rolled slowly down my cheeks as I mourned the loss of our nineteen year marriage.
The coffee pot beeped, bringing me back to the here and now. I wiped the tears from my face, poured myself a cup of the hot liquid and carried it outside into the cool morning air.
A strong sea breeze pushed the waves onshore. I closed my eyes and let my mind get lost in the sound but it quickly drifted back to Spencer. How could he do that to me, to us? We’d been so happy together, so in love, at least that’s what I’d thought.
Tears rolled down my cheeks again, but this time I let them fall. I needed to let my pain out so I could finally move on. And I was more than ready to move on.
A strong gust of wind rushed over me, leaving me feeling cold. I shook my head, wishing I could shake it hard enough to erase the images of those women from my mind. Setting my now cold coffee aside I pulled a bottle of water out of the mini fridge on the patio and headed out for my morning run.
I jogged slowly onto Beachview Drive, picking up speed with every step as I wondered if I’d ever be able pick up the pieces of my broken heart. Faster and faster I pushed, trying to outrun the pain I was feeling, until my lungs were screaming for air. I inhaled deeply, but a sharp pain in my ribs stole my breath bringing me to a sudden stop.
I coughed as I struggled to catch my breath, instinctively reaching for my side but unable to still the pain. For a moment I thought it was my heart ripping in two from the pain of losing someone else I loved so completely. I was five when my mom left us but I still remember the pain of knowing she was really gone like it was yesterday. I’d thought I’d never experience pain that bad again, but I was wrong. Losing Spencer, having my family ripped apart, hurt so much worse.
When the coughing finally stopped I turned back around and jogged slowly toward home, doing my best to maintain even breaths while I pushed through the pain. As bad as my side hurt I was happy to have something to focus on other than my failed marriage.
The sun had just started to rise when I made it back to the house. I went straight upstairs to shower. The pain in my ribs reminded me of that terrible dream that woke me as I pulled my t-shirt over my head. I stepped out of my shorts and panties and climbed into the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe my aching body.
After I dried off I slipped into a pair of linen pants and a long sleeve tee, my favorite work-from-home outfit. It was an arrangement I’d recently negotiated, but one my boss wasn’t thrilled with. “A small concession, I suppose,” he’d finally agreed when I refused to let it go. In return for his generosity I agreed to try to be at the office one day a week, although I hadn’t made it in at all during the past three weeks with my new self-imposed travel schedule.
Spencer and I decided to hold off telling the kids about the divorce until after graduation, but with the words sexual sadist still fresh in my mind I hadn’t been at all thrilled about sleeping under the same roof as him so I had volunteered for nearly every out of town project in the past four months.
Shaking all thoughts of Spencer and our pending divorce from my mind, I headed downstairs to start work.
Anna was in the kitchen making breakfast when I popped in for a second cup of coffee. “Good morning, sweetie,” I said.
“Good morning, Mom. I’m making chocolate chip pancakes. You want some?”
Food had been the farthest thing from my mind recently, yet another side effect of all the stress I’d been under. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
Anna tilted her head to one side. “Your loss,” she said with a crooked smile that reminded me of Spencer. Tears pricked my eyes and I knew I had to get out of there before she started asking questions.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and hurried to the sanctity of my home office. With its large picture window overlooking the Choctawhatchee Bay and sunbeam colored walls the room felt vibrant and alive. It used to be my favorite room in the house with its grand view of the sunset, but lately it had become my escape, my safe place to hide from all the hurt I so desperately wanted to escape from.
My desk was littered with papers, another reminder of the funk I’d been in. Stacks of unopened mail, contracts I still needed to review, notes I’d scribbled on scraps of paper haphazardly strewn across my desk like snowflakes, each one its own unique shape and size. Pretending to still be madly in love with Spencer, when the mere sight of him made my skin crawl, was definitely taking its toll.
Graduation was less than two months away now. All I had to do was hold on for a few more weeks and Spencer would be out of my life. I’d never have to think about those awful pictures again. I would finally be free.
I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t realized my phone was ringing until it vibrated, notifying me of a new voicemail. I looked at the caller ID. Shit, Tim Howard, VP of Reputation and Issues Management at Dimarco, also known as my boss. The one who isn’t thrilled about the idea of you working from home, my inner voice snapped.
I took a few deep breaths to clear my head then dialed Tim’s number. “You are Izzy James,” I said out loud as I dialed the number, my own private pep-talk to myself. “You’re confident and in control,” I added trying to convince myself of that now. Four months ago there wouldn’t have been even the slightest doubt, but opening that package changed things.
Tim answered on the first ring. “Izzy, where were you? Did you get my voicemail?” he fired in rapid succession.
“I haven’t listened to your voicemail yet,” I said in a low tone, doing my best not to sound annoyed that it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet and Tim was already breathing down my neck. I took another deep breath. “What’s up?”
“I really like your approach to Ultimate Cruise’s issue. I think the client will too.”
“Thanks,” I said cautiously, knowing full well that couldn’t possibly be the only reason he’d called. I closed my eyes and braced for the bad news.
“I’m afraid something came up and I can’t make the trip to Tampa with you today.”
Tampa? Double shit! The Ultimate meeting… I’d forgotten all about it.
“What time’s your flight?” Tim asked jolting me back to the conversation.
I opened my mouth to answer but then closed it again as I desperately searched my memory for the details of the itinerary Jonathan emailed me. “Noon,” I finally answered, relieved I managed to remember. My voice was shaky and sounded almost panicked now; not at all the confident Izzy James Dimarco hired to do this job.
“Call me after the meeting and let me know how it went.”
I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, relieved now that Tim hadn’t noticed the shakiness in my voice. “Sure thing,” I managed before he disconnected the call.
“Get it together, Izzy!” I admonished, disappointed I’d forgotten about the meeting.
Immediately, I tossed my phone to the side. There was no time to spare. It was almost eight and I needed to be in Pensacola for a twelve o’clock flight. It’d take at least an hour to drive to the airport with the spring break traffic and I still had to finish the timeline. I opened the Ultimate folder in the client directory on my hard drive and got right to work.
When I was satisfied with the work I’d done I packed up my laptop and hard copy notes then ran upstairs to change. With no time to obsess over wardrobe I went with a basic black pencil skirt, a pink multicolored sleeveless scoop neck blouse, and my favorite pink blazer. The outfit didn’t exactly scream business professional but it was one I loved and I’d need all the comfort I could get now that Tim had left me hanging.
As I stripped out of my clothes I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. I’d lost weight these past few months, not surprising given the stress of the divorce and the nightmares, but still. My face was thin, too thin really, and pale. Definitely not the first impression I’d hoped for with this high profile new client but there was nothing I could do about that now. I took a deep breath and dressed as fast as I could.
I’d hoped to leave by ten
so I could swing by the office to pick up the mockups I needed for the meeting but it was almost eleven by the time I pulled out of the driveway. Now I’d have to go with Plan B.
I hit the Bluetooth button on my steering wheel and dialed my office.
Jonathan answered on the second ring. “Izzy James’ office.”
“Hey, I’m running late,” I said getting straight to the point. “Print copies of the timeline I just emailed you for the Ultimate project, then pack up the marketing pieces that arrived yesterday and meet me at the airport.”
“Sure thing, Izzy. Oh, before I forget, Mr. Payne will be joining the meeting today—”
“Alec Payne, as in the CEO of Payne Enterprises?” I asked, unable to mask the confusion in my voice.
“That’s the one…” I could hear Jonathan saying something else but his words weren’t registering. I was still trying to digest what he’d just said.