Jonathan pulled a chair up to the table and sat talking with Grace. I quickly finished my dessert and excused myself to the restroom to give them some time to converse.
I tried to kill some time by sitting in the lounge area of the restroom checking my text messages, emails, and voicemails on my phone. I had a couple of messages from my brother and my parents; I’d have to make a point to call them back later. The rest were from Garrett, my email and text messages were overloaded with requests.
Garrett: Please talk to me.
Garrett: I’m lost without you.
Garrett: Laurel.
My mind was still reeling from Garrett’s lie of omission, but my heart was just as lost, feeling empty and broken. Did I have enough strength to discuss things yet? I knew if he held me in his arms, I would succumb to his charms. I needed to make a decision soon, because I couldn’t keep living with my emotions on the edge.
I walked back towards the table to catch Jonathan giving Grace a chaste kiss on the lips. “I’ll pick you up at four o’clock,” I heard him say.
He saw me as he started to turn and walked over, giving me a gentle hug. “Please consider what I said, Laurel. I don’t like to see either of you hurting.”
“I will. Thanks, Jonathan.”
He walked back in the kitchen, whistling all the way.
“What was all that about?” I asked Grace.
Grace had a smile that envied the Cheshire cat. “I’ve got a date this afternoon. We’re going to go walk through the park, have dinner at his place and maybe go dancing or see a movie, not sure yet, depends on what’s playing and how things go.” She squealed in delight. “I can’t believe how cute Garrett’s brother is.”
I reached over, putting my hand on Grace’s and giving it a squeeze. “He’s really nice and is an amazing dancer.”
The next couple of hours were spent back at the apartment, with us taking turns answering the door for floral deliveries. Grace started getting ready for her date with Jonathan while I returned calls to my family and debated calling Garrett.
The doorbell rang for the umpteenth time in the last hour. I hated that Grace had already left for her date, forcing me to answer the door. My apartment, or should I say Mr. Waters’ spare condo, was overflowing with floral arrangements that could give a floral shop a run for its money. This time he had sent a full dozen varied rose arrangements, with more red roses than the usual mix.
Every Saturday afternoon, like clockwork, for the past three weeks, the old arrangements were replaced with new ones with the same sentiments, asking for forgiveness and letting me know he still cared for me.
I opened the door, expecting to see another delivery guy holding an arrangement, but instead found Garrett with soulful eyes and his hands held together, begging.
“Please give me just a few moments of your time, Laurel. You know most of the story; let me show you the rest of it.”
Show me? What the heck is he going to show me? The last three weeks had already grated on my nerves; he called me on my cell phone before and after work, during my lunch break, when I got home, and every couple of hours on the weekend. I finally had to resort to turning the thing to vibrate so I wouldn’t hurl it across the room. If it wasn’t the phone calls, it was emails, text messages and flowers. If it wasn’t the flowers it was the continual nagging from Grace to give him a chance. Apparently, he had managed to sweet talk her onto his side.
The longer it went between talking with him, the more intense his efforts became. “Fine, I’ll give you a few moments of my attention. Tell me what you feel is important to hear, but only if you promise to leave me alone and let me have time to digest all this.” I didn’t want to give any hint that I was willing to cave to his requests.
He took a deep breath, grabbing my hand and locking my door with his key.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I don’t want any more secrets. It’s time you see my place,” he said smugly, as he pressed the up button for the elevator.
He followed me onto the elevator and then turned to the keypad. “I live on the top floor in the penthouse. In order to get there, you’ll need to know the code, which is easy; it’s the day I first laid eyes on you in the lab, 5042012.”
I had an inkling he lived on the top floor, but the code took me by surprise. “Did you have it changed to that for sentimental reasons?”
He squared his jaw. “Yes, on the day I saw you, I knew I would do anything to get to know you. Ask Thompson if you don’t believe me.”
The elevator doors opened up to two huge, mahogany doors that must be the entrance to his suite.
“Good day, Miss Hart, sir,” Thompson greeted as he held the door open for us to enter the Penthouse.
I smiled politely at Thompson, who disappeared as soon as we entered. I couldn’t believe how big his place was. There were floor to ceiling windows, rich tones of mahogany woods, dark tiled floors and countertops, a huge dining table to seat sixteen people, a professional kitchen one only dreams about, and so much more. The great room was in the center of it all, with a fireplace, a musical entertainment center, and several sofas forming a U-shaped pattern in mixed colors of black, with white and red accents. This was definitely a very male decorated place.
Garrett spoke up. “This place used to be so small. When I purchased the building, the top floor was divided into three penthouse units. I liked being closer to work, but hated the tight quarters. Thompson, Dillon and Deidre, my cook and housekeeper, had their own respective units until we could have things reworked. That’s one reason I couldn’t give you the tour until now. They had just punched through the walls of the connecting suites only a few weeks prior to you coming to Orlando. The place was a mess.”
“So the part about the construction was true,” I mused. “I do remember you having some sawdust on you.”
He motioned towards the breakfast counter in the kitchen. “Here are some of the pictures prior to construction on my unit, so you can see the differences.”
I held the pictures up and scanned the room, noting how small it used to be in the pictures and how much larger it was by comparison. “Can I have the full tour?”
He started with the bottom floor, directing me to a small conference room area and a wall of monitors that Thompson, and apparently other security person, monitored 24/7. A little further down were separate living quarters, similar to multiple in-law suites, for his staff.
I was surprised to see a small theater room for viewing movies, complete with some stadium seating and a couple of loveseats. “This is a great place to watch TV, movies and even do some gaming,” he said a little hesitantly.
The other portion of the first floor held a game room, complete with a billiard table, darts and a couple of standing older model arcade games, one of which I loved including my favorite, Ms. Pac Man.
The upstairs had several bedrooms; his was over twice the size of mine and the bathtub was more like a pool. The other rooms were nice in comparison. He could easily accommodate his family or guests.
At the end of the hall was a smaller room, with soundproofing on the walls. In the center was a baby grand piano and to the sides were a set of drums and both a bass and acoustic guitar. “You have a music room?”
“I like to play as a means of de-stressing. Do you play?” he questioned.
“I took ten years of piano and love to pound out the drums when I’m stressed.”
On the opposite end of the hall, the door was locked. “What’s in this room?”
“The room isn’t complete yet. I was going to wait to show it to you later, if that’s okay. It’s a surprise for both of us to enjoy.” His eyebrows lifted in a suggestive manner, making me wonder what was hidden behind the doors.
“I can’t wait to see it.” It was nice to finally see where he spent his time away from me, but seeing the place did little to getting him back in my good graces. I looked at him expectantly.
He grabbed hold of my hand, holding i
t with both of his. “Laurel, you know I like to keep a private life, that’s why I parade around as Mr. Andrews. You’ve now seen where I live, so there are no more secrets there.” He paused for a moment, possibly thinking of what to say next. “I wish I knew what to tell you to get you to trust me again. Like you, I’ve been hurt in the past. I don’t like to reveal too much too quickly, so forgive me if I can’t bring myself to discuss these issues with you; at least, not yet.”
His words felt like a slap to my face. I forced myself to open up and trust again, only to have the rug pulled out from under me with lies. “In that case, I don’t think we have anything further to say to one another,” I responded as I began to run down the stairs and head towards the exit.
I could hear his footsteps following behind me.
“Laurel, please! I care for you.”
I stopped short of the front door, spinning around. “If you cared as much as you claim, Garrett, you’d reveal yourself to me and date me! Refusing to let down your barriers and lying to me are only going to push me further away. I opened my heart to you, let you see how broken I was, and attempted, against my better judgment, to trust you. To deny me the same privilege is cruel. I want more than you’re willing to give.”
His face was full of pain and regret, but he did nothing to stop my leaving.
I turned back towards the door, opening it with purpose. “We’re done!” I yelled. “I can’t do this anymore! I’ll look for another job and apartment starting tomorrow. This time I expect that you won’t interfere with my search, otherwise I might have to take legal action against you. Consider this my notice.” I didn’t allow him the opportunity to say anything more before slamming the door.
The elevator doors closed and with it, so did my heart. I would normally cry, but I felt empty, a shell of my former self. Chase had violated me sexually and had stolen my virginity. Garrett had debased my heart, stealing all capacity for emotion.
The apartment felt like a tomb that trapped me with Garrett. I knew Grace would be disappointed to move, but hopefully we could find something within our means and still close to the city.
I was surprised to hear a knock at the door. “Go away, Garrett!” I yelled.
A smothered voice made its way through. “I have a delivery for a Ms. Hart.”
I looked through the peephole to see a huge bouquet of spring flowers held up by an unknown delivery man. I thought it odd that the flowers were a spring arrangement and not the roses that Garrett had been sending. I opened the door. “Please take the flowers back, I’m refusing delivery.” The last thing I needed was another reminder of him.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have my orders to deliver them. If you don’t want them, that’s fine, but I still need a signature on my receipt to show that I attempted delivery,” the stifled voice explained.
Muttering to myself, I opened the door and stepped aside as the young man handed me the flowers.
I was about to turn to put the flowers down on the kitchen counter, when I was pushed hard into the wall, causing me to hit my head and the vase and flowers to fall on the floor, the vase breaking into a million pieces. “What in the hell?!” I demanded, trying to regain my footing.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” the man yelled.
“Oh my God, Chase!” My eyes were wide with fear.
The letters I’d received the past few weeks said he was coming for me, but I thought they were just idle threats, that he wouldn’t be able to get past security in the building. I could only hope that Garrett would follow me down shortly, trying to plead his case, otherwise I was in serious trouble.
As soon as I gained my footing, Chase slapped me hard across the face, sending me crashing hard against the kitchen counter, where I heard something crack. “Don’t talk, Laurel. I don’t want to hear a word. I want to remember the special times we had together, the special times we’ll have again.”
His eyes were filled with delirium as he continued to spout venom. “You were always mine, bitch. You will be again.” His facial expression changed to one of contempt, “Why did you have to whore yourself to him? Why, Laurel? You were only ever supposed to be with me. No one turns away from me!”
The front of my body was crushed into the kitchen counter as Chase pressed his body against my back, making me feel the bulge between his legs. Pain shot through my ribs and my breaths were ragged. He grabbed me hard around the waist with one hand, lifted my dress with the other and ripped away my panties.
I tried moving, only to have him pin me tighter to the counter’s edge. I opened my mouth to scream, only to have him hit me against the back of the head and place his hand over my mouth. “Try that again and I’ll cut off your flow of oxygen until you faint.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the frying pan I’d used earlier to make breakfast resting in the sink’s drainer. Any sudden movements and he would know what I was up to. I realized I could either be a victim again, or play along and gain his trust enough to fight him off. I forced myself to relax into his hold.
His lips kissed the side of my neck. “That’s my girl. You’re remembering how wonderful it is to have me touch you.”
One arm still held me tight to his chest while the other hand started stroking my mound, pulling my legs apart and trying to find my entrance.
Let him think he’s won. Give him what he needs to catch him off guard.
His fingers pushed through my folds, digging forcefully to the point of pain. Chase’s hips began to gyrate against my backside as his lips continued to kiss along my neck.
I allowed my body to relax further into his, following the motions of his hips and opening my stance further. This seemed to be working, because with every movement, I pushed my hand towards the drainer until I had a firm hold of the frying pan. Now or never!
I scooted my backside against his erection, causing him to loosen his grip on me as he went for the zipper on his pants. As he stepped back, I put all my force into hitting him with the frying pan.
Bang! My aim was a little off, hitting him hard in the shoulder, but enough to where he lost his balance and I began to run. He fell to the floor but grabbed hold of my ankle, causing me to fall right into the glass. Despite the pain, I turned and kicked hard into his chest, causing him to fall back and began to get up. He was right behind me when I took all my force and turned the frying pan at his head.
Whack! This time it connected and he went down, confused and in pain, giving me enough time to make it to the elevator. Luck was with me, as a neighbor exited and I jumped on before Chase could make it out the door. “Call 911!” I yelled to my neighbor, noticing his hand already on his cell phone.
The doors closed. I didn’t know where to go, but up, so I punched in the code to Garrett’s penthouse. At least Chase couldn’t follow me there.
My mind began to get fuzzy and my surroundings began to spin. I could tell my sugar was dropping fast and knew I needed help not only for that, but for the smell of blood that now hung heavy in the air. I knew I was hurt, but how bad, I didn’t know. Just make it to Garrett’s. Thompson or Dillon should be watching the monitors. They know you need help.
I felt the elevator stop and a ding sound in the distance. My feet somehow managed to take the couple of steps off the elevator, as I saw Garrett rush through the doors, screaming to Thompson. “Get an ambulance and notify the doctor to meet us at the hospital, quick!”
He reached his arms out to me as though he were afraid to touch me, his face full of alarm. “Laurel, what the fuck happened?”
The ability to think was waning and it hurt to breathe. “Chase…” I managed to say, weakly, as I dropped the frying pan and felt myself falling freely towards the floor.
His arms must have caught me, my body didn’t hit the ground as hard as I expected. The last thing I remembered, before darkness took hold, was Garrett screaming.
“No! Laurel, wake up! Come back to me, please!”
Then there was silence.
Special Thanks to the Following:
To my wonderful husband, son and mother: You have encouraged me every step of the way, telling me to never give up on my dream to write. I couldn’t have done this without you. Plus, thanks for dealing with take-out food while I was working on deadlines.
To the memory of my father, who taught me to go after anything I put my mind too. I miss you dearly!
To Stacy, (It Started with A Book Blog), my beta reader, book blogger, and good friend. Your belief in my writing means more than you will ever know!
To Mia, my beta reader, friend and fellow book lover. Your words of encouragement mean a great deal. Thank you!
To Johnny: I’m grateful for your encouragement to follow my dreams and for your knowledge of fast, expensive cars.
To Jessi, Julie, Raine, Kimberly, Danielle, Melissa and Audrey: Your words of wisdom and guidance helped me find my way along the path of writing.
To all my Facebook and Twitter followers, who have wished me well during the whole process of writing.
And above all, Special thanks to God for guiding me in life and giving me the opportunity to put my thoughts and words onto paper.
Cynthia P. O’Neill grew up in Clewiston, Florida and moved to Central Florida to attend college. There, she married her friend, love, and soul mate and still resides there with their amazing son, and a feisty, four-legged little boy.
In her books, Cynthia draws on her background in healthcare and business, along with her husband’s engineering knowledge.
Several years after she got married, she started dreaming about the characters in I Remember. It took eight years before she decided that it needed to be told. With the encouragement of family and friends, she decided to bring Jordan and Gregory to life in a series of Young Adult, Paranormal Romances with a Historical bent. I Remember is the first book in the Remembrance series.
Cynthia’s first book is geared towards the Young Adult, Historical and Paranormal Romance fans. She does hope to grow as a writer and write in multiple genres. Her second series; is a steamy romance called Learning to Trust, part of the Learning Series, coming out in August.
Learning to Trust Page 26