“Anyway, she died from cirrhosis of the liver. A few months later, Raymond died from exposure. He fell asleep in a drunken stupor in some alley. The temperature was below zero—a fitting end I guess.”
Brandon paused again to assess his feelings. The tragic deaths of the two people who had nearly destroyed his father hadn’t left him feeling as satisfied as he thought. He had spent most of his life wondering why his mother didn’t love him. Why had she taken Brice and not him? Until he found out about her untimely death he thought that he hated her for having made such a choice. The truth was that he loved her and yearned for her return. With her death he would never know the answer to the one question that had haunted him most of his life. Why?
As Sash watched Brandon struggle with his emotional demons so much about this complicated man became crystal clear. The pain of lost and abandonment was as acute for him now as it had been when he was a child. His incessant drive for wealth, power, and control had been motivated by the need to prove that he was worthy—worthy of being cared for, worthy of being loved and worthy of not being abandoned.
Rising, Sash put her own feelings of turmoil aside and went to Brandon. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his broad back. She knew without a word from him that he needed her touch. He responded, wrapping his arms around her arms in silent gratitude. She could feel him relax against the weight of her body. Gently, she prodded him to continue his story.
“So Brice showed up when you two were eighteen. Did the two of you become friends at all?”
Brandon turned to face her. He gave a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, no. Life had been hard for Brice, moving from pillar to post, transferring from one school to another. He had never acquired friends or had any stability, and it seemed that this Raymond fellow was physically abusive. He told us that he hated him. Yet, Brice also resented my father. He blamed him for not rescuing him. He told Dad that he should have looked for him harder. Dad tried so hard to have a relationship with him. He was so happy to have Brice back in his life. You know that picture that I have of him and Brice in my office?”
“Yes. “
“I keep it because it’s the happiest memory I have of my father with Brice. Dad tried everything to make up for the past, but nothing worked. Brice was hostile and bitter. He took advantage of Dad’s kindness in every way he could. And he resented me even more. He told me once that I had everything and he had grown up with nothing.” Brandon gave a shaky sigh. “But he was only half right. I did have Dad, thank God for that, but Brice had our mother.”
Brandon went on to tell Sash about the clashes between Brice and him. Like his mother and step-father, Brice struggled with alcohol and drugs. Eventually, he stormed out of their father’s house after a fight with Brandon and wasn’t seen or heard from for over a decade.
“He reappeared out of nowhere with no warning,” Brandon told her as they returned to the sofa and back into each other’s arms. “He swore that he was sober and I believed him. Dad was gone by then and Plaine Deal Media had taken off like a rocket. I offered him a job.”
“Did the other employees know that he was your brother?”
“Actually, they didn’t get a chance to meet him. He never showed up for work.”
Sash wasn’t surprised. She had never met Leon Raymond, but she had heard about him through her step-father. According to him, Leon, or Brice, as Brandon called him, was an irresponsible hustler who died from a drug overdose, leaving his wife Shirley destitute and pregnant. After Shirley’s death her parents had adopted Sweet, who was a toddler by then, and he became the light of their lives. She filled in the blanks for Brandon. He gave her a sad smile after she finished.
“I knew that Brice had died of an overdose but I didn’t know what had happened to Shirley.”
“She died from an overdose too,” Sash informed him. “A deliberate overdose of sleeping pills.” There was a pregnant pause before she continued. “Do you know how Shirley and Brice met? Nobody in the family knew much about him.”
Once again, Brandon rose, unable to sit at the avalanche of memories. He walked to the wall of windows and looked out. “Shirley and Brice met at a party in San Francisco. I guess it was love at first sight.” Brandon snorted contemptuously. “Who knows. Anyway, a couple of weeks after they met, Brice disappeared for the last time, and took Shirley with him. That was six years ago and I never saw him again, nor did I bother to look for him. I was through. I’d have enough. It was only by accident that I found out he had died. I didn’t know what had happened to Shirley and I knew absolutely nothing about Sweet.”
Sash joined Brandon at the window, finding some sense of solace in looking out into the darkness beyond. This time she didn’t touch him, but stood beside him. “So, now you do know about him. Have you told the authorities what you’ve told me?"
“No, although I know I should have. I didn’t want any leaks to the press until I’m certain that Sweet is my nephew.”
“It certainly sounds like he is and it sure explains why you were targeted for the ransom. But how would Carlton and his crew know about Brice? Monee worked for Plaine Deal Media in another state and from what you’ve told me it wasn’t general knowledge that you even had a brother.”
“I don’t know, but tomorrow one mystery will be solved. John is coming to the island and he’ll be bringing proof as to whether Sweet is Brice’s son.” Brandon turned to Sash. “I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I had my doctor take a sample of Sweet’s saliva, for a DNA test. Tomorrow I’ll know for sure if Sweet is my nephew.”
Hugging herself, Sash closed her eyes. “It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out the obvious. That is unless you have doubts about Shirley’s loyalty to Brice.”
Brandon didn’t answer, but she could tell by his body language that he thought Shirley might be suspect. She decided not to pursue that issue. There had been enough revelations for one day.
Sash felt numb. She wasn’t sure what to think or what lay ahead for the three of them.
Gently, Brandon gripped Sash’s arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner, but things between the two of us were rocky enough when we came to Pineapple Hill. I was afraid that knowing that Sweet might be a part of me might make things even worse. But now that you know, now that we have feelings for each other—” He planted a kiss on her forehead and gathered her to him. “I don’t want this to change things between us for the worse. Whatever happens I hope it will only make things better.”
Sash slipped out of Brandon’s embrace. “You should have shared this with me earlier. I realize you have a problem with trust, but…”
“Sash—” Brandon made a move toward her. She moved away.
“What you’ve told me is major, Brandon. Who knows what’s going to become of the three of us as the result of this. So I say let’s see what tomorrow brings and we’ll play it by ear from there.”
Brandon reviewed the suggestion in his mind. As long as she wasn’t shutting the door between them they still had a chance. “That sounds fair.”
Sash hugged herself, finding solace in the action. Maybe things would work out. Yet the feeling of anxiety stirring deep in the pit of her stomach would not go away.
****
John Nathan arrived the next day with more news than they expected. There would be no trail, no tabloid headlines. Everyone involved in the kidnapping of Sweet and Sash was dead. Monee Sherman had passed away without regaining consciousness. Although Sash held no great love for the woman because of her involvement with the kidnapping, Monee had saved Sweet’s life. For that fact, if nothing else, Sash was sorry to hear about her demise.
Good detective work by the FBI had uncovered the sequence of events that led up to the kidnap plot. However, the authorities had discovered additional information about Monee Sherman that was even more revealing.
“They will probably be contacting the both of you, Brandon, so that they can talk with you further,” said John.
“And why would they want to do that?” Sash asked, not looking forward to the idea of having to deal with the FBI again.
“Because they discovered that Monee worked as a nurse in the hospital in New Jersey where Sweet was born.”
Brandon and Sash exchanged glances. It took little imagination to assume that Monee must have befriended Sweet’s biological mother and that secrets had been revealed—secrets that in the future would be worth a king’s ransom.
“They know that Sweet was adopted and they’re looking into the files now to trace his biological parents. If there turns out to be a connection between you and the boy at all, Brandon, I’d advise you to let the authorities know.” John implored.
Brandon remained silent. He would buy all of the time he could for the child before the media circus began.
John continued. “Anyway, the authorities haven’t found anyone else involved in the case. So, it’s over.”
Both Sash and Brandon breathed sighs of relief.
“Now, about that other matter.” John withdrew several envelopes from the briefcase he was carrying. He took a small bundle of envelopes held together by rubber bands and handed them to Sash. “Brandon asked me to drop by your house for your mail. Your landlady, Mrs. Rosemont, sent these to you.”
Sash took the mail from John and thanked both men, bestowing a special smile on Brandon for his thoughtfulness. John then handed Brandon the single envelope for which he had been waiting. It contained the DNA information. With that, John acknowledged Brandon’s expression of gratitude and excused himself from the room.
It was so quiet in the room that the ocean waves could be heard in the distance lapping against the shore. Sash sat waiting with baited breath as Brandon examined the white envelope. Growing impatient she was unable to take the suspense any longer.
“Please, just go ahead and open it.”
With a shaky sigh, Brandon complied. Silently, he read the contents while Sash watched him closely. Once again Brandon’s lengthy examination of the contents caused Sash to intervene.
“What does it say?”
This time Brandon made her wait. The paper he was holding shook in his hands as he read the results. Briefly, he closed his eyes, opened them again and reread the words on the paper.
As she watched and waited Sash was beside herself. Her voice trembled with tension. “Brandon? Is there a DNA match or not?”
She started to rise, go to him and read the results for herself, but his words froze her in place.
“There’s a match.” Brandon crumbled the letter in his fist and raised watery eyes to Sash.
She fell back in her seat. Shock waves rippled through her body. She watched as Brandon turned and left the room. She didn’t try to stop him.
Sash thought that she would be prepared to hear those three words, but she discovered that she was not. Her Sweet, her precious little boy, the most important person in her world no longer belonged to her alone. Now he had become apart of Brandon’s world. What did it mean? Where would it lead? What would the future bring?
CHAPTER 17
Sash slowly opened her eyes, unsure of what had awakened her until she heard Brandon’s footsteps move stealthily across the room and straight to her bedside. She lay still as death, nude beneath her bathrobe and resting on top of the bedspread. The bed sagged from Brandon’s weight as he joined her, wrapping his body around her, engulfing her in his warmth. His fingers entwined with her fingers and she noticed that his fingers were cold, just as her fingers had been earlier. She squeezed them to let him know that she was awake and waiting.
Sash had left the main house when Brandon had not reappeared. His reaction to his unexpected fortune disturbed her. This man had gained the Holy Grail—a child she would have died for was now his to love. Brandon should be floating on air. Yet, she could feel his sadness as he lay beside her.
Sash turned in Brandon’s arms to face him. Moonlight filtering into the room from the skylight silhouetted his profile.
“Are you afraid, Brandon? Does the responsibility of being more to Sweet frighten you?”
Her words filled the void in the darkness surrounding them, offering light that would allow them both to find their way. Yet, Brandon remained silent. Instead, slowly, deliberately he traced her full lips with his finger, committing them to memory; then, he leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, gradually growing in intensity. His tongue prodded the depths of her mouth’s interior, demanding compliance. Sash leaned into him her body blossoming. Their need was mutual, radiated in the heat emanating from their bodies. Brandon’s kiss grew deeper, harsher almost brutal in its ever increasing ardor.
Breaking the kiss, his persistent hands parted her garment. His eager tongue feasted on distended nipples with such fervor that Sash pleaded for release.
“Brandon, please!” She panted, fighting for every breath. Her hands roamed his body relentlessly, pushing, pulling, kneading and needing as his touch drove her into the abyss of madness.
“Sash.” This is the woman he wanted. “Sash.” This is the woman he needed. Sash!” This was the one who could assuage all of his wants and needs. His tongue basked in the swirl of her navel; one long-boned finger prepared the way for entry. She bucked upward and moaned in completion. Brandon left her no time for recovery. With one slight movement he straddled her, crushing her beneath him. The depths of his fervent lovemaking bordered on the brink of being out of control.
Sash’s mind reeled as Brandon hungrily devoured her, gluttonous in his primal need. Once again the firestorm raged. Sash reached for him, ready to satisfy and be satisfied. But, as suddenly as it began the firestorm ended. Brandon rolled from her body and onto his back. Covering his eyes with one arm his breathless gasps echoed in the darkness.
Dazed and confused, Sash turned and reached out to him, her hand accidentally grazing the engorged evidence of Brandon’s physical need. Yet, it was the source of his emotional need of which she was unsure. When she had gained some semblance of control her request was simple.
“Talk to me, Brandon.”
The irony of her words didn’t escape him. He had said those very words to her while they lay together mere hours ago, but the circumstances were so very different then. With much effort, Brandon moved from the bed, turned on the lamp and sat in a chair next to the bed. To stay in the bed with Sash was much too tempting. Still he reached for her, despite his effort to put a distance between them. He wanted her close to him. He needed her close to him. He wanted and needed her, period.
“Come here.”
Righting her robe, Sash went to him. Brandon settled her on his lap and she waited.
“I’m sorry, Sash. I couldn’t just use you like that. I care for you too much.”
Sash reached up and caressed his cheek, warmed by his words. “Thank you for that.”
Brandon kissed the palm of her hand, then reached into his pocket and withdrew the crumbled letter that he had jammed into his pocket earlier. It had been smoothed and neatly folded. He handed it to Sash. She glanced at the letter then back at Brandon.
Pushing herself off of his lap, Sash sat down on the side of the bed. Her body felt like lead. Something was wrong. Her hand trembled as she started to open the letter. Once again her eyes went to Brandon’s eyes. It was at that moment that the truth was silently exchanged.
He didn’t have to tell her what was in the letter. She knew. Over the past few weeks there had been clues. Why didn’t you tell me that Sweet was adopted? Innuendoes. “Shirley and Brice met at a party in San Francisco. I guess that it was love at first sight.” Reality checks. “There’s a match.” No. She didn’t have to read the letter. She knew what it said.
“Sweet is your son.”
“Yes, he is.” There were tears in his voice.
Sash breathed around the lump that worked its way to her throat. “Did you ever suspect that he was yours?”
“It never crossed my mind. I wanted the DNA match to prove that I was Sweet’s uncle, not h
is father.”
Her eyes fell to the paper in her hands. “There’s no doubt about it?”
“99.8% according to the DNA.”
Sash’s eyes returned to Brandon. “It was you who introduced them at that party, wasn’t it.”
“Ironic, isn’t it.”
“Did you love her?” She could only hope that he would tell her the truth. She couldn’t live with another deception.
Brandon looked her in the eye. “Yes I did, but obviously I didn’t love her enough. She wanted to get married, but I wasn’t ready for the ring and roses. We fought and she told me then that I would pay. I didn’t know how high the price would be.”
Without reading it, Sash handed the letter back to Brandon. “I wonder if your brother knew that Sweet wasn’t his?”
“I wonder, too.” Brandon studied the folded paper in his hand. “But she knew, and that’s what hurts so bad.”
As Sash watched Brandon return the letter to his pocket her heart broke for him. Abandoned by his mother, betrayed by his brother and by the woman that he loved, how could trusting anyone be anything but a challenge for him? The twist and turn of both their lives, as well as Sweet’s, were all being controlled by choices made by others in the past.
“It’s so unfair,” Sash said more to herself than to Brandon. “But…” She squared her shoulders and addressed him directly. “Like I’ve said before, I have to think about Sweet and what’s best for him.”
Brandon agreed. It was Sweet who had been on his mind when he entered the guesthouse earlier, still stunned by the revelation that Trent Curry was his son. The shock of the DNA report had resulted in a myriad of emotions that ran the gamut from confusion to rage. He had roamed the estate for hours trying to sort it all out.
Finally, compelled by the need to reconcile the surreal with reality, Brandon had crept into Sweet’s room and watched him as he was sleeping. His heart felt as if would burst. This was his flesh. His blood flowed through this child’s veins. This beautiful child had become his own.
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