by LR Potter
“Okay, well I’m going to head to the office and then home. I’ll be back in the morning. If you need anything, let Ringo know. Try not to worry, everything will be fine.”
She nodded. “Thanks again, Alex. I appreciate all you did for my father and me.”
“Ma’am,” he said with a smile and a slight bow of his head – a throwback to his southern upbringing, no doubt.
Chapter 2
Trinity exhaustedly slid out of her black pumps and stepped into the luxuriously plush carpeting of her bedroom. She unclasped the thin black belt around her waist and reached behind to unzip her dress. Pulling the dress forward on her arms, she let it fall to pool at her feet. She bent and threw the dress over the chair seated in front of her vanity. She didn’t know if it would be worth having the white dress cleaned or not. As she swung around, she caught her reflection in the long mirror attached to her wardrobe door. She grimaced at the scrapes on both her knees. She took in her reflection. Her long, dark hair was well cut and maintained so that it hung smooth and shiny down her back. Her figure was average – meaning average bust, incredibly small waist, and average bottom. Her face was average, with its best features being her full redden lips and large, round, dark eyes.
She let her gaze sweep the room she’d been in for the last fifteen years. There were none of the things found in most girls’ rooms. There were no mementos from her old high school or college; no pictures of friends; no stuffed animals left behind from her childhood. The room was fashioned to be elegant – as her father wanted it. As she looked at the sterile environment, loneliness flooded her. While she’d never admit this to anyone, not even Sundra, her best friend, she was lonely. She wanted to find a man to date – for more than two dates, which was her average, and be a couple with him. She eventually wanted to marry and have kids, the normal things most girls wanted. But so far, she’d not managed to find this illusive creature. While she was asked out a lot, after no more than a couple of dates, the men just drifted away, usually without an explanation. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She didn’t want to grow old with a houseful of cats. She wanted to grow old with someone beside her… someone to hold her and love her. Someone like Rush Drayton, she thought, but shook her head. No, he was definitely out of her league.
Her father, and probably Sundra, too, would be shocked to know how much of her time was filled with thoughts of love and sex. She often wondered what it would feel like to have the warmth of a man’s hands running over her body; to feel his lips against her skin; to feel him as he claimed her body as his own. But so far in her nearly twenty-three years of life, she’d never found out. Again, she wondered what was wrong with her. Most girls her age had already had sex multiple times with multiple partners.
After a quick shower, she slid in between her white cotton sheets and closed her gritty eyes. She felt she had just closed her eyes when a soft tapping had her slowly reopening them. Stretching her aching muscles, she slipped on her housecoat.
“Come in,” she said.
The door pushed open to reveal Ms. Gibbons, the woman who’d been the only mother she’d known since she was a young girl. Ms. Gibbons had been their housekeeper since before she was born.
“I wanted to let you know lunch is on the table, Trinity,” Ms. Gibbons said.
While not feeling particularly hungry, Trinity smiled. “I’ll be right down.”
As her father wasn’t there to object, she pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and made her way downstairs, barefooted. She sat alone at the massive dining room table and ate the melon and prosciutto on her plate. She looked around the room thinking once again how lucky they all were. Thinking of her father reminded her of the case files she needed to retrieve for the courier coming the next day.
She rose and retrieved his keys from her purse and headed into his study. His study walls were paneled in deep, dark, walnut paneling; two walls had built-in bookcases. In the center of the room was a massive desk her dad had procured from an estate sale. It was antique and elegantly carved. She sat at his desk and took in the familiar smell of the lemon wax polish Ms. Gibbons used. Leaning forward, she picked up the picture of her mother and father taken on their honeymoon. Her father was a different man in this picture than he was now. He looked happy and carefree. They were standing on a beach and her mother was swept up in his arms and they were smiling. Her mother’s long, dark hair, so much like her own, blew in the wind. With a catch in her chest at her loss, Trinity replaced the framed picture exactly where she’d gotten it from.
Turning back to the task at hand, she tried to remember which drawer her father had said. Not remembering, she stuck the key into a drawer and allowed it to slide out on its rollers. She glanced at the list of files needed from the piece of paper she’d gotten from Alex before beginning to thumb through the colored file folders, each neatly labeled. She frowned as she went from folder to folder: Adam Chancey; Tommy Lanier; Court Monroe; John Stanley; Alan Weber; Langston Montgomery; Scott Bowman… These were all boys she’d dated over the years. A scowl marred her features as she extracted one of folders. The label had Zander Greene typed on it. Flipping open the folder, she let her gaze skim the page. At the top of the page was Savannah Security, Inc. in big, bold typecast. From the words written, she was able to ascertain that she and Zander, the boy she’d gone to junior prom with, had been under surveillance. But why? At the bottom of the page, written in red ink, was the word: Eliminated.
Eliminated? What did that mean? From what she could remember, Zander had hounded her nonstop to go to prom with him. She’d been flattered, of course. He’d been good-looking and captain of the baseball team. After her one date with him to the prom, he’d suddenly lost interest in her. She’d been hurt, assuming she’d done something wrong.
She threw the folder on top of the desk and pulled out another. This one was labeled Andy Nelson, a man she’d gone out with a couple times a month ago. She flipped open the file and glanced at the bottom, again in red ink was handwritten: Eliminated. She saw notated on the page: the time he’d picked her up; the restaurant they’d gone to, and the movie theater and movie they’d seen. She saw the time he’d dropped her off and that Andy had kissed her outside the door. The make and model of his car was listed, as well as where he worked and how much he money he made. He apparently had no prior police record and paid his bills on time.
The folder slipped from her fingertips as the cold reality of what all these folders meant. Her father had her followed on every one of her dates and then had them ‘eliminated’. Why would he do that? Of course, she knew why. Anger flooded her as she thought of all the times she’d sat in her room crying over one of these boys who’d stopped speaking to her or avoided her. She’d thought it had been her, when it had been her father! She was so tired of his overprotective heavy handedness.
A clawing feeling of claustrophobia settled in her chest. Needing to get out, she went up to her room and changed quickly into a pair of jeans and a white sweater. She quietly slipped out of her bedroom. She peered over the banister just in time to see Ringo head for the kitchen. Moving stealthily down the stairs, she glanced back at the hall leading to the kitchen, not seeing anyone; she slipped out the front door, and closed it soundlessly behind her.
She walked quickly down two blocks and entered a small coffee shop called The Hotspot. She went to the counter and bought a cup of coffee and sat in a booth. She pulled out her phone and called for a taxi. Her hands began to tremble as she thought about the total evasion of her life. She might have been able to understand when she was a child, but a month ago? This was just too much. He’d gone too far this time. Her chest burned with hurt and humiliation. She wondered what had been said to those boys and men.
She rose when the taxi arrived, and slid into the backseat. “The Savannah Museum of Art, please.”
Needing peace, she headed to the only place that would give it to her. The museum housed several different exhibits, ranging from paintings, to sculp
tures, to rare artifacts. Trinity’s favorite section was the sculptures. She gave a wave to Henry, the man at the admissions counter. She’d been at the museum so many times, he knew her now by her first name.
Moving quickly, she entered the huge atrium which housed the sculptures. Three sides of the atrium were engineered out of weathered glass. Surrounding the atrium were beautiful gardens full of colorful flowers and lush green shrubs. She slowed her walk and breathed in the beauty of her surroundings. She was happy to see the room empty as she’d hoped it would at this time on a Friday. She moved to the stone bench in the center of the room and sat down with her purse in her lap. A thought crossed her mind, and she quickly opened her purse and pulled out her airline ticket; she’d been afraid her father might have somehow taken it. Her eyes stung with renewed frustration.
She inhaled a deep, calming breath and allowed her eyes to flow over each sculpture, over their smooth lines and intricate carvings. She liked the Roman pieces the best. Their features were strong and bold. Their muscles so defined, she could almost imagine they were real. The burn in her chest lessened as she sat. She once again breathed in a cleansing breath, and wasn’t aware of the tears on her cheeks until that moment.
“They are quite breathtaking, aren’t they?”
She jumped at the familiar male voice behind her. She raised a hand to her face to swipe at the tears and cleared her throat. “Yes, they really are,” she murmured without turning around. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man move to the bench and sit down. She continued to stare straight ahead at the finely honed masterpieces.
“This is my favorite place in the museum,” Rush Drayton said with husky undertones.
“Mine, too,” she said softly.
“To have that kind of genius inside must be a wonderful thing,” he continued.
She only nodded, wishing he’d either leave, or at the very least, leave her alone.
“You have to wonder, though, if it doesn’t take a little bit of insanity to create something this surreal.”
Surprised at his obvious appreciation of the works, she said, “Aristotle said there is no great genius without a mixture of madness.” She turned her head for the first time to the man sitting next to her.
She swallowed to keep from gasping at how stunning the man was. He was the one that was surreal. He reminded her of the statues. He was still facing the sculptures, pondering her quote, she supposed. He was tanned and his lips were full and curved into a soft smile as he studied the white marble before him. He must have felt her stare because he turned his head towards her. She swallowed again at how absolutely breathtaking he was.
“Aristotle, huh? I’m gonna use that quote if you don’t mind,” he said with a grin.
She blushed and looked away. “Please do. I’m sure Aristotle would have liked to be quoted.”
“Trinity, wasn’t it? Beautiful name,” he said.
Clearing her throat again, she smiled. “Thanks.”
“Going somewhere?” he asked, pointing down at the plane ticket clutched tightly within her grasp.
“Thinking about it,” she replied, “Vail.”
“Ahh. I own a few properties in Vail. It’s a great place.”
Before she could reply, her phone blared out its ringtone. She blushed and scrambled to reclaim it from her purse, irritated at herself for forgetting to turn it off. She gave Rush Drayton an apologetic smile. Rising from the bench, she clicked the phone on.
“Hello,” she murmured.
“Where the hell are you?” Alex Masters asked with irritation.
“None of your business!”
“You can either tell me where you are, or I’ll simply…”
She clicked the phone off in the middle of his threat. She was a grown woman of legal age. She did not need to be babysat. She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling claustrophobic again. It seemed no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t get enough air. She was suffocating. She felt even further trapped by the man sitting behind her, obviously watching her with avid interest.
Turning quickly, she practically ran from the room. Behind her, she heard the godlike man call after her, but she kept going. Her father had a stranglehold on her, and she didn’t know how to loosen its grip.
She stepped outside the museum and flagged down one of the taxis cruising the street.
“The airport, please,” she said as she leaned back in the seat. She flipped open her purse and double-checked her ticket was still there. When the taxi pulled up in front of the airport, Trinity paid him and got out. She sighed heavily at knowing she had no clothes and would need to buy everything when she arrived in Colorado.
She only had to wait an hour to catch the flight to Vail. She’d texted Sundra to let her know she was on her way. When she reached the Denver International Airport, her phone sang out its ringtone. She glanced briefly at it and sighed.
Once she stepped outside of the airport, her breath was taken away by the brisk coldness. She’d definitely need winter clothing and a coat. She hurried down to the car rental agency and rented a car equipped with GPS to get her to Vail. She plugged in the information and was happy to see it’d only take her a couple of hours to reach Sundra’s condo.
She was about an hour into her drive when her phone rang for the hundredth time. She glanced at the display and saw it was her father. While feelings of frustration and anger rushed over her, old ingrained feelings of obligation and duty won out.
“Hey, Dad,” she answered.
“Trinity. Thank God. I’ve been so worried. Where are you? Alex has been so worried. Why would you leave like that?”
“I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Wait? What? No, absolutely not! You need to go home right this instant. Do you hear me, young lady?” he ended on a heated note.
“Feel better,” she murmured, before clicking off.
Her phone continued to ring, but she ignored it.
She pulled into the parking lot of the ten-story condominium complex a little after five in the afternoon. She parked, called Sundra to let her know she was on her way up, and grabbed her purse. Her beautiful, red-haired friend met her when she reached the door.
Squealing in delight, Sundra said, “I can’t believe you talked your father into letting you come. This is going to be so great!” Sundra grabbed her and spun her around. Trinity grinned and let some of the last few hours fall away. Sundra always had that effect on her.
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘let’, exactly. In fact, I don’t have any clothes,” Trinity said.
“Don’t worry about it, you can wear some of mine, I brought plenty! Come on. You’re just in time to get ready and come out with us,” she said, leading her friend into the condo. “You can sleep in the room with me.”
As they walked into the living room, Trinity saw three other girls in various stages of dressed and undressed.
“Hey, girls. Look who finally made it,” Sundra said with glee.
The other three girls were friends of Sundra’s, and while she knew them, it was only by extension of Sundra. They all turned and called out an excited greeting. More somber and reserved than them by nature, Trinity gave a small wave and followed Sundra to their room.
***
The nightclub the girls chose was loud and dark. After two hours of drinking and dancing with them, Trinity began to unwind and enjoy herself. Her phone continued to vibrate against her hip, but she steadfastly ignored it. When the song ended, she excused herself from the dancing group of girls and headed back to the table. She’d barely sat down when her phone vibrated again. Annoyed, she reached into her pocket and once again saw it was her father. She blew a deep breath out and rose from her seat, headed into the bathroom where the noise was more subdued.
“Hello, Father.”
“Trinity! You will answer the phone when I call. Do you hear me?” her father proclaimed.
Anger flooded her. She thought over all the years of
frustration and angst. Years of having to tow the ‘proper’ line. Years of being controlled and manipulated. Those days were now over. It was time she took control of her own life. “You don’t get to decide my life any longer. You have made the very last decision on my behalf. Now it is you who has been eliminated. Goodbye.”
She hung up with a flourish and sagged against the bathroom wall, enjoying her independence. How dare he think he could make demands on her! He could go take a flying leap. She was tired of playing by his rules… by everyone’s rules. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and saw the same uptight, nicely groomed girl she’d always been.
She tugged the hairclip from her hair and bent at the waist before shaking her head wildly. As she rose, she flipped her long hair back. The girl in the mirror now looked wild and untamed… just like she felt on the inside. Change was on its way, she decided. She grinned at her reflection before moving purposefully towards the bathroom door. She was no longer the correct Judge’s daughter… oh no, now she was Trinity Grace, wild woman!
She went to the bar and slipped into a chair, waiting to get the bartender’s attention. A pitcher of margaritas would definitely thrill the other girls. Maybe she’d even do a couple shots before she headed back.
The spiky-haired bartender smiled at her. “What can I get for you?”
“I’d like a pitcher of margaritas and two shots of tequila,” she declared with her best flirty smile.
“You got it,” he smiled back.
As she waited, she turned to lean with her back against the bar so she could watch the excitement of the room. She tapped her foot in time to the beat of the music, feeling freer than she’d felt in her whole life – liberated.
She turned back when the bartender set her order on the bar. She pulled a fifty dollar bill out of her back pocket and handed it to him.
“Keep the change,” she said with a laugh.
She picked up one of the shots and tossed it back, following it by a slice of lime. The tequila felt like acid sliding down her throat and it exploded when it hit her stomach. She sucked in a deep breath. Once she was able, she picked up the second shot and tossed it back, as well. This time, the slide was easier. Feeling invigorated through her alcohol consumption and independence, she turned back to the bartender, who grinned at her exuberance.