Young, Allyson - Forgiveness (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Allyson Young

  Chapter Five

  Sarah wasn’t at work, and no one knew where she was. She had the weekend off they were told, something to do with playtime at home, and she wasn’t expected back until Monday. Ryan cringed upon hearing of Sarah’s hopeful, innocent plans, and Alain turned away with muttered imprecations. If Jane had set her up, their revenge would be mind-boggling. They couldn’t focus on what else to do. Alain went through her cursed laptop, trying to find an address book, e-mails to old and current friends, anything to help find her. Ryan called everyone they knew and alternately charmed, threatened, and bribed people for information. No one knew where she had gone. Out of desperation he called in favours from people in law enforcement, but they could find no Sarah Westlake on any itinerary. So she might still be in the city, unless she took a freaking bus somewhere. Or a train. Neither man could sleep nor eat. Their only focus was finding Sarah.

  It took just over a day for the news to come back on Jane. Her tail had snapped some interesting pictures of her and a man, albeit at a distance because of the security surrounding him. She got into a limo, and they went to a restaurant known for its discretion, then back to a home situated in an exclusive neighbourhood. The limo registration was traced back through a shell company but finally to Horizons’s owner and president. Her betrayal stung, but it was nothing to what they had felt believing even for an instant that Sarah had been guilty. Further digging turned up a sick mother who was presently undergoing advanced treatment at a very expensive clinic in the southwest. Ryan and Alain could not bring themselves to begin to accept Jane’s rationale, however. She had probably cost them the love of their life. Not that they were innocent.

  Jane came to the office the following morning at their request to be faced with two police officers, and the contents of her desk packed up. Alain and Ryan simply gestured for her to be taken away. Aside from going very pale, Jane didn’t try to question or defend herself. If anything, she appeared relieved that it was over. The list of charges against her was impressive, including attempted murder, for the man in the hospital had, in all likelihood, been helped in front of the cab, considering what he was probably going to tell them. If he died, then it was murder in the first degree. The police thought Jane might help them with their investigation and implicate the owner of Horizons.

  Ryan and Alain went right back to locating Sarah. There were a few people they had not reached, and considering her gregarious nature and ability to inspire loyalty, there were probably more they had yet to find. A credit check determined none of her cards were used, and they managed to break some confidentiality laws concerning her bank account. All they were able to find out was that she had withdrawn the maximum amount that same evening they had pretty much denounced her. They checked back at her work, only to be told she had called in sick and had decided to take two weeks’ vacation. No one had asked where she might be going. To Alain, it was very clear that certain walls at Sarah’s job had just gone up to keep him and Ryan out. No one there could be counted on to tell them anything. Sarah’s colleagues all liked and respected her and correctly suspected her sudden need for two weeks’ vacation was because of Ryan and himself. It was like she had fallen off the face of the earth.

  Chapter Six

  Sarah was established in George’s house, if alone there. George had clearly left for an extended time period. His fridge was empty, the heat turned down, the plants set up with an automatic watering system. Above all, his cat wasn’t present, and there was a boarding kennel name and number written on the slate by the phone. Sarah made a brief foray to the closest grocery store to pick up perishables, then locked up and shut down. She could live off of the freezer contents as long as she had cream for her coffee. Not that she was eating. She couldn’t make herself get out of bed. She truly felt ill, her bones aching and her skin sore to the touch. Her head felt full, and her chest wouldn’t seem to expand enough to get a full breath. Sarah knew she should get up and find something to drink but gave it up as a bad job and slept.

  The next day found her too weak to sit up, and the room spun if she tried. She vaguely knew that she was in dire straits but couldn’t muster up enough energy to care. The phone rang and rang, but it was out of her reach. She slept fitfully and dreamed of her men. Her heart broke.

  “Miss, miss, please, open your eyes, miss,” a voice kept insinuating itself into her head. “Please, miss.”

  Sarah tried to open them but could not. She felt a cold cloth on her aching head, and in her delusion thought she could hear it sputtering against the heat of her forehead, but she fell back into sleep again. When she next awoke it was to a chilly, bright room. She felt a little better, and her lips weren’t so dry. She tested them with her tongue and thought maybe she would have a drink if she could just get up and figure out where she was. A gentle hand touched her arm, and her head was lifted to allow for another pillow to be inserted under it. A kind voice asked her to remain still and shared that the doctor would be in to check on her in just a minute. Sarah’s blood pressure shot up at that news. She didn’t much care for doctors, and she thought she might be in a hospital. A more focused look around took in the IV stand and the needles piercing her hand. Holy crap. Needles. She was cold and seemed to have all manner of cold things around her, under her arms, between her legs. She was naked, too, and she had to pee. Badly. Sarah tried to squirm away from the ice packs, and the nurse quickly removed them.

  “Your fever has broken, dear,” she said soothingly, “and you aren’t quite so dehydrated.”

  Her explanation was interrupted by the officious arrival of a busy doctor.

  “Ms. Westlake, Sarah, I’m Doctor Martin. You are recovering nicely. The blood work came back, and you don’t have some infamous bug. We’ve had you in isolation, but you’ll be moved out onto a ward and probably discharged as soon as your electrolytes come back to normal. You were a very sick young lady, and if that cleaning woman hadn’t found you, well, I hope you mention her in your will.”

  Sarah stared at him as she processed the information. “Uh, thank you. I’d like to leave as soon as possible. And I don’t know who you mean, but for sure I will thank her.” Inwardly, Sarah wondered if maybe it would have been better if she hadn’t been found. She wished she didn’t feel so incredibly weak. Now she had to remember how it was that she had come to be found in George’s bed and couldn’t bear to think about it.

  “One other thing, Sarah,” the doctor said, stepping closer and lowering his voice, “when I examined you there was some bruising on your hips, and upon further investigation some minor vaginal and anal swelling. Were you attacked?”

  The tide of emotion that welled up and over Sarah must have shown on her face because he stepped back. Then he took the hand without the IV needles in it, and patted it, belying his distant physician status.

  “We took swabs, Sarah, but there was no DNA. We should alert the police however, and they will want to question you.”

  Sarah began to choke with laughter and tears, her eyes rolling in her head, and Dr. Martin motioned the nurse forward, ordering a mild sedative to be pumped into the IV.

  “I won’t speak to the police,” Sarah managed. “I just want to go, please.”

  Dr. Martin looked at her searchingly. He shook his head then nodded. “All right, but it’s still an option. I think you’ll be here at least until tomorrow to make sure you are stable. In the meantime, we reached your emergency contacts, and they are chafing at the bit to see you, and they’ll be pleased to learn that you will soon be out of isolation.”

  Sarah positively scrambled away from him, yanking her hand from his, her mouth opening on a silent scream. “Who’s here?” she nearly shrieked, the sedative beginning to impede her thinking.

  Dr. Martin tried to reassure her. “A Ryan Bell and Alain, uh, I don’t recall the last name.”

  “No,” she choked out. “Keep them away from me.”

  Both the nurse and Doctor Martin tried to soothe her, and the sedative began to
take full effect.

  The doctor promised, “We’ll keep you here until I can get back from rounds and figure something out then.”

  Sarah dimly heard him instruct the nurse to call for a security guard to be posted at the door and under no circumstances to reveal his patient’s current condition to anyone. She was to remain in isolation until he changed the orders. Sarah drew the blanket up and huddled beneath it, allowing the drug to take her.

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan and Alain alternately paced in the waiting room or sprawled on the uncomfortable furniture. They had drunk the disgusting coffee from the machine in the hallway and leapt up at anyone entering the room, especially if they wore medical garb. They had been refused admittance into Sarah’s room. No one could tell them much other than she was gravely ill when brought in by ambulance, with an extremely high fever, dehydrated, and her lungs full of fluid. It was suspected she might be contagious. The doctor had looked narrowly at both of them, and they agreed later that he was holding something back, but he couldn’t be convinced to share, other than to say he would keep them updated. It had been over twenty-four hours, and all they knew was that she was responding to massive doses of antibiotics and IV fluids. Her fever was slowly coming down, but the blood work had not yet come back.

  When Ryan got the call from the hospital that one Sarah Westlake had just been brought in by ambulance and would he please come and tend to the paperwork, as he was listed, along with an Alain Joubert, as Ms. Westlake’s emergency contacts, he had nearly fallen to his knees. He managed to assure the hospital clerk that he and Mr. Joubert were on their way. The drive was a blur, and he couldn’t answer any of Alain’s anxious questions. All he could think was that they had found her and she might be lost to them. What the hell had happened to her? The paperwork had been tedious, the wait outside of the isolation unit agonizing. They had catnapped, spelling one another, and tried to think positive. It wasn’t going well, and the not knowing was making them insane.

  “Mr. Bell? Mr. Joubert?” The doctor responsible for Sarah’s treatment advanced into the waiting room.

  They moved as one to face him, waiting, mute.

  “Ms. Westlake is going to recover, barring any unforeseen complications,” the doctor announced, “and I hope to discharge her tomorrow, the day after at the latest. She regained consciousness a few hours ago and is fairly lucid. She is not contagious, according to the blood work.”

  “A few hours ago?” Ryan’s voice nearly cracked with incredulity. “Do you mean to say we could have seen her, and you kept us waiting all this time?”

  Dr. Martin was unfazed, clearly waiting for Ryan to calm down. Ryan could see Alain’s jaw clamp in an effort to keep silent.

  “I examined Ms. Westlake when she came in, and there is some bruising that concerned me. She didn’t want to call the police.”

  Alain immediately interjected. “Our relationship with Sarah involves, uh, certain contact that others might not understand.”

  “Perhaps so, Mr. Joubert. But that doesn’t explain the hysterics when I told her you both were here. I had to sedate her, and until she is able to talk with me, the security guard posted on her door will not admit either of you.”

  Ryan fisted his hands and managed not to punch the good doctor in the face. He shot Alain a glance and watched him stand down as well.

  “We had words with Sarah late Friday afternoon, and she left, upset. We’ve been trying to find her since then, and until the hospital notified us had no idea where she was. We were worried sick and very, very sorry to have upset her the way we did,” Ryan tried to explain.

  Alain stepped forward. “She is our life, docteur, I assure you. We have been together for nearly a year, and we have much love for her. She would tell you that. We deeply regret that we drove her from her home because of a misunderstanding, and we want to make it up to her. Please, we need to try.”

  Doctor Martin stared at them both assessingly. “I will be talking with my patient again shortly and will let you know what her decision is.” He held a hand up at their impatient movement.

  “If you care about her as much as you say you do, then you’ll wait. Sarah has been very ill. She would have died, I am sure, if that housekeeper hadn’t found her, and apparently that was purely accidental. The housekeeper wasn’t even supposed to clean that week, but there was a mix-up in scheduling. The owner of the house is away and apparently gave her the wrong dates. In any event, it appears Sarah has experienced a traumatic event on top of the illness. Or perhaps the event allowed the ‘bug’ she contracted to take such a toll. It is fortunate that she is young, strong, and so resilient as she will likely recover quickly if she has no further trauma. So, wait, or leave.”

  Alain and Ryan sank down on side-by-side chairs as the doctor swept from the room. Alain put his head in his hands, and Ryan scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “Sarah has a champion, Rye, and one who believes we sexually assaulted her, threw her out, and are now back to further mistreat her.”

  “It can’t work out that way, Alain. You know we can fix this,” Ryan responded encouragingly, but he felt the hollowness of his words.

  * * * *

  “Sarah,” a deep voice woke her from a fitful doze. “Sarah, we need to talk.”

  Sarah bolted upright then fell back on the pillows when she saw Doctor Martin standing beside the bed.

  He smiled at her then perched by her knees. He nodded to the IV patches on her hand and elbow. “The nurse took those out while you were sedated, so that saved you a little discomfort,” he said. “Now, do you feel up to talking about those two men out in the waiting room, or will I have to sedate you again?”

  Sarah shook her head and tried to take deep breaths, coughing a little as she did so. Her chest and back ached.

  “I don’t want to talk about them. I don’t want to see them. I just want to get out of here and get on with my life.”

  Doctor Martin reiterated what Ryan and Alain had told him, watching her closely as he did so. Sarah remained poker-faced until he mentioned how sorry they were and how they wanted to make it up to her. She knew her eyes reflected her rage, although tears spilled, too. Her mouth twisted, almost against her volition, and the words spilled out.

  “We are done. It is over. I want to get out of here and away from them.”

  “You could charge them with sexual assault, Sarah.”

  She gave an ugly grimace. “Right. I’ve fucked them both any way they wanted for nearly a year now. Like what they did that afternoon was any different.”

  “Whatever happened that day seems different, Sarah,” consoled the doctor, patting her hand. “Make a statement.”

  “No. No. Please, make it so I can leave,” she pleaded.

  “Rest until tomorrow, Sarah, and I’ll arrange for your discharge if you have somewhere to go and someone to make sure you continue to get well.” Dr. Martin withdrew, leaving her to stare at the ceiling and suffer in silence.

  * * * *

  When the doctor came back into the room, Ryan knew it was not good news.

  “She refuses to see you, I’m afraid. She won’t charge you with sexual assault, although I encouraged her to do so,” Doctor Martin said.

  Ryan heard Alain make a murderous sound deep in his chest, and he felt the same sense of despair.

  “I appreciate that you both appear to be very concerned about Ms. Westlake,” the doctor continued, “and you do seem very sincere. However, that doesn’t take away from the fact the the woman you purport to love is lying in a hospital bed coping with a broken heart, if I even believe in such a thing.”

  “You should go home and hope she can work this through because I am not going to allow you to impede her progress in getting well.”

  Ryan looked at Alain, who nodded and pushed past the doctor. They left the hospital together after Ryan made sure that Sarah’s bills would be covered. He and Alain weren’t giving up. This was just a setback.

  Chapter Eight />
  Sarah tottered from the wheelchair to the car, aided by her assistant from work. She had called Sheila, knowing that she would cover for her, and Sheila hadn’t let her down. Doctor Martin had agreed to discharge her into her assistant’s care, and Sarah had promised him she would take at least a week to recuperate. Sarah had pressed a kiss upon his cheek that morning and was surprised when he took her hand and patted it.

  “I’d like to give you a bit of advice, Sarah, if I may,” he said, not waiting for a response. “Before you make any life-changing decisions, take some time to think things through and try to heal. Acting while you are hurting so badly and feeling unwell may not be in your best interest.”

  Sarah hadn’t responded, but his words resonated with her. He hadn’t judged her nor tried to insist she take a certain path. He also hadn’t been negative about her men. Well, not her men, not anymore. She wondered why Ryan and Alain had even bothered to show up at the hospital. Probably to harangue her some more, thinking she would fess up because she was weakened. Maybe even to threaten her with legal action. Christ, she needed to get as far away from them as she could. Then the doctor’s words came back. She didn’t know what to do. She loved them. They were her life.

  * * * *

  Alain and Ryan watched from behind the tinted windows of their car. Sarah looked so thin and fragile. She appeared to be wearing hospital scrubs, and there was a blanket over her shoulders.

  “Good God, Alain. She probably has nothing to wear. She left everything behind, and there’s been no time to replace anything.”