He called his family, once again enlisting there help to find her.
“Forget about her,” his mother snapped. “She’s not worth any more pain.”
“Please, Mom. I need your help. I found out something I didn’t know before and—and I have reason to believe she was forced to leave.”
“Son, stop torturing yourself—she went after another man and that’s all there is to it.”
“No, there is much, much more to all of this. I’ve got to know the answers. I’ve got to find her before—before it’s too late.”
“I think you should come home and stop—”
“I am coming home—D’Angelo has a job for me.”
His mother paused, “I’ll help you look for her, but I think it would be wise to stop taking so many jobs. We can look for her together.”
Four months of dirty deeds for D’Angelo passed quickly. But, every free moment he had was spent following up leads that his mother turned up. Leese had done an excellent job of hiding this time. She had taken cash, but made sure no numbers were left behind. There had been no traceable phone calls home, and no credit card receipts. The only thing she had that might give her away was her car. There were very few Shelby Ultimate Aeros on the road, and you couldn’t simply pull it into Wal-Mart to have it serviced.
His mother had begun conducting interviews with former Remake contestants saying she was helping the producers get next season’s group ready, and she needed their opinions. Every time she turned interviews into conversations about Leese. When she got in touch with Dobrey Stewart, she got her first solid lead.
Dobrey mentioned loaning Leese a cottage in California so that she could get away from all the publicity. When Celeste pressed her for more information about the cottage, Dobrey became suspicious and ended their conversation. She couldn’t find any records in California that showed Dobrey owned a piece of property, but Celeste was certain she was keeping it under an assumed name. When the court house is of no help, the newspaper archives are. She found a seven-year-old article about how Dobrey Stewart had given the money for a public library in the small northern town of Gualala. They mentioned that Ms. Stewart had been so enamored with their town that she had purchased a cottage in the vicinity.
Micah was on a plane and in Gualala by the next day.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her before,” the man at the local grocery store admitted pointing to the blond version of Leese as Micah showed him two photographs. “She’s a real sweet gal, kind a shy and quiet. I think she’s living somewhere just north of here. She drives a red four-wheel drive, a Jeep Wrangler I think. Should I tell her you’re looking for her next time she’s in town?”
Micah smiled, “No, I was going to surprise her. We were friends in high school back in Florida and I wanted to see her before I head back to the east coast, but I’ll find her.” His lies were smooth as silk and had enough sincerity to make a believer out of anyone.
There was a small motel on the ocean side, right across the street from the grocery store. He could wait a day or two and see if a red Jeep came through town. He really wondered if the man could be mistaken because a Jeep just didn’t sound like Leese’s kind of vehicle.
By the second day he was ready to move a little further up the coast to show her picture and see if anyone else might know where she was at, but, as he was fueling up, he watched a red Jeep pull into the store. When the young woman with blond pixie hair and a flowery, flowing baby-doll top and blue jeans climbed out, he knew without a doubt he found her.
He parked his car at the far end of the grocery store lot and waited. Thirty minutes passed and she finally came out pushing a cart with a few bags. She loaded everything into the Jeep and headed back out on the highway going north. He would have to be extra careful tailing her; he knew what kind of skills she possessed behind the wheel, and if she suspected he was following her, she’d out drive him, even if she was in a Jeep.
The road was dangerously curvy, up and down and sometimes would break free on the edge of a cliff that dropped off to the mesmerizing Pacific. There were two cars between them and as he rounded a sharp s-curve in the road he realized she must have turned off, she was no longer in the lead. He traveled to the next turn-off and headed back south, looking for the sign of a driveway. He passed one so obscure and small it didn’t look like a driveway, but more like an overgrown path. He saw it too late to make the turn so once again he had to continue traveling until he could reverse course. He made the sharp right and headed up the weed-ridden path. Surely there was another driveway that he missed. This didn’t appear to be traveled very often. Just as he was considering turning around, the woods gave way to a cottage set on a hill in an open field; a red Jeep was parked out front beside her unmistakable Shelby Aero under a car cover.
He was sure she hated him for what he had done to her and, if his plan worked, and she allowed him to get close enough, she was going to hate him worse by this time tomorrow morning.
He parked the car and walked up to the front door. He looked back and couldn’t see the road below, but it was a beautiful view of the ocean over the tree tops. He looked at the front porch, noticing all the flowers and the pair of rockers. Could it be that she had moved on to man number three? Perhaps Ryan didn’t know what he was talking about. The front door opened before he could step up on the porch, and she was standing there behind the screen door.
“Don’t take another step,” were her words of warning.
He could see a pistol in her hand.
This might be harder than he imagined.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I pulled up to the cottage and grabbed my bags of groceries. Today was absolutely glorious. The smell of the ocean mixed with the fragrance of pine trees and wildflowers. It was a little piece of heaven. I was glad when I remembered Dobrey offering me this place; it couldn’t have been better timing. Ryan had been hovering over me after the attack, but he had to go back to his life, and I needed a lot of time to think. I’d only called him twice since I’d been here. Both times I borrowed someone else’s phone and made the calls when I was far away from Gualala. All I wanted him to know was that I was still breathing and was okay. I missed him so badly—mother hen routine and all. He had been my one true friend, but it was time to let him get on with his life.
I had the groceries out of the bags and on the table as I sorted what would go where, when I heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. I never got visitors. My heart picked up speed as I opened my purse and pulled the pistol out and slipped off the safety. Moving to the front door, I watched as a sedan with darkly tinted glass pulled up short behind the Jeep. I froze as I watched who climbed out. I didn’t know if I could threaten the one person in this world I loved with such strange desperation. I watched Micah look down the hill at the ocean and then turned and began walking up to the front door.
I couldn’t let him inside. I couldn’t let him do to me what he did the last time, and I might actually have to shoot him. I certainly wouldn’t be shooting to kill, but I couldn’t allow him to put a hand on me, not now. I opened the door and gave him my warning as he started to step up on the porch.
“Leese?” he replied in shock, his voice high pitched and strange as he looked at the gun in my hand.
“You taught me to shoot so I don’t think it’s wise for you to come any closer,” I warned.
“I’m not armed,” he stated, pulling off the light jacket he wore, and turning around so I could see that he wasn’t hiding anything.
“Really? I don’t see those hands of yours tied together and they are just as lethal as your guns—at least they were the last time you put them on me.”
He swallowed and ran his hand through his hair. I could see his eyes tearing up and the whole time all I kept saying to myself was, ‘Don’t cave, Leese, don’t cave.’
“What I did to you was unforgivable and I can understand why you don’t want me to get close, but you’ve got to believe me, Leese, I swear to you, I wasn’t i
n my right mind that day and I could never do that to you again. I look at you every day and every day I hate myself just a little bit more.”
“Well, you can swear all you want; I can’t afford to give you another opportunity. We haven’t seen each other in months and I know you haven’t been following me around all this time, so you haven’t seen me every day.”
“No, you were pretty tough to find this time, but I have the pictures Ryan gave me.”
That made no sense. I doubted Ryan would have anything to do with Micah and he certainly wouldn’t have given him pictures of me, “What pictures?”
“The ones he took of you the day after I—I…”
He couldn’t say it, but I knew what he meant, “It’s called rape, Micah, and if you think it’s hard to say then you should try living through it. I didn’t let him take pictures.”
“I guess then I’m not the only guy who didn’t ask for your permission,” he said as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and tossed a handful of pictures of me asleep in my bra and underwear onto the porch floor, “But you should at least be proud of the way he delivered them to me.” He had an odd sound to his voice, “He showed up with a couple big guys that grabbed and held me while he beat the hell out of me.”
My free hand went to my mouth to stifle the gasp.
“I deserved it and he did a good job working me over; fractured four ribs and a cheek bone in the process.”
“I’m sorry, Micah. I knew how pissed off he was, but I never dreamed he’d go after you.”
“But he also told me a few things, and I needed to see you to get the truth.”
My heart jumped in my throat as I prayed that Ryan had kept his promise not to tell what he knew, “What did he say?”
He took a tentative step up onto the porch and bent down to retrieve the photos, and then another step toward the door.
“Please stop, Micah. I can’t let you get near me.”
The tears had started running down his cheeks. “There is another picture—I—I carry with me,” he struggled to say, reaching back into the jacket pocket. He pulled out the picture of us on our wedding day as we stood by the well at the old monastery. “This one is my favorite,” he choked on a sob that struggled away from his emotional resolve, “I’ve got to know, baby. He said you didn’t leave me for him. He said someone forced you.”
“Was that all he said?” I questioned, an old familiar lump rising in my throat as I tried to steady the gun.
“Yeah—whatever you made him promise, he kept it. You’ve got to finally tell me. Hasn’t it been long enough?”
“I wish I could Micah, but it’s too late. I can’t change what’s happened and if I could have stayed with you, you’d have eventually hated me worse than you do now,” I felt the first tear roll down my cheek.
“Hate you? I never hated you, baby—mad as hell, sure—but I’ve never hated you. You were everything I never knew I wanted until I met you. I have to know why you turned my life upside down.”
“Threatening to kill me doesn’t quite qualify as only ‘mad as hell,’” I snapped.
There was no comprehension on his face, “I—I—never threaten to…” he choked up again. “I threatened to kill Ryan, but I would never—”
“I still have the note and the iPod.” He looked so confused that I was beginning to wonder if he honestly didn’t know what I was talking about, “The one you sent me the day after the final show.”
I watched his face grow furiously dark, “I never sent you another iPod, but I did tell someone about sending you the first one. What was on it, Leese?”
“Do you mean to tell me you didn’t send me the song ‘Breath,’ by Breaking Benjamin? You included a note.”
“I never sent you anything. I was too ashamed to even approach you at the finale.”
All this time I thought he wanted me dead. All this time I had been afraid and hurt. I had a good suspicion I could name the person he told, “Who did you tell, Micah?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with him.”
“D’Angelo?” I asked, realizing I was still pointing the gun at him. I lowered it as I watched the strange expression come over his face. “Micah, do you still put stock in your word? If I ask you to swear to God the most honest promise you’ve ever made, would you do it—and mean it.”
The tears were running harder down his face, “I will do anything you ask of me—anything other than to leave.”
“I’m going to put this gun away, but I want you to swear to me that you won’t lay a hand on me. Promise me, Micah, for everything your worth, you will not touch me.”
“I—I swear, unless you allow it, Leese.”
“Sit in a rocker,” I told him. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
He took a rocker and moved it further away from the other and sat down.
I was shaking so bad. I had to go on absolute faith that he meant what he said. If he hurt me again, my life was over.
I put away the gun and grabbed a wine glass and filled it up and walked out cautiously onto the porch. I still couldn’t tell him the truth, but I was curious enough now that I did want to talk.
I sat down and took a deep breath, “What have you been doing since I left you? Besides running the country’s top new show.”
“You’re drinking wine?” he asked, ignoring the question.
I could hear an edge to his voice; he didn’t approve. “No, it’s not wine. I don’t drink. This is grape juice. Stemware is the only thing I have in the cottage besides coffee cups.”
“Not that I don’t believe you, but… I don’t believe you—may I?” he asked reaching for my glass.
I sighed and handed it to him. The touch of his hand as he took it was like electricity to my system. He inhaled deeply above the rim, swirled it and then took a tentative sip. His brows raised and he offered me back the glass.
“I’m sorry I doubted you, but Ryan said you were drinking brandy when he took those pictures.”
“I—I was in a lot of pain—internally,” I shot a look at Micah’s face and watched the sorrow hit him. “He told me it would ease it and had me sip down a glassful.”
“Did it?”
“Yeah, but I guess he wanted me out for a different reason.”
“I’m glad he did it. I didn’t realize what I’d done to you.”
“How could you not know what you’d done?” I asked incredulously. “I know you’d been drinking, but Micah, you weren’t drunk.”
“I was—well, for lack of a better term—high.”
“What?! Don’t tell me you’re into drugs?”
He gave an honest laugh, but I didn’t find the subject at all funny. “I was on a heavy dose of steroids and amphetamines, they made me—aggressive—I couldn’t control my emotions and actions like normal. I drank the alcohol to stop the shakes I had on the way to your place.”
“You never told me you took steroids.” I was surprised, but, thinking about his muscle mass, the steroids made sense.
“I’ve never taken them in my life—I don’t do drugs—but someone pulled a David on me.” He suddenly looked pained as he said it in a term he knew I would quickly understand. “Would you mind if I had a drink with you? I can get it if you—”
“No,” I responded quickly. I didn’t want him inside the cottage. I didn’t trust him, yet. He put out his hand for my glass as I rose up. I handed it to him and went back inside. I glanced at the door several times to make sure he wasn’t going to try to follow me in, but he stayed on the porch. I brought out a fresh glass of juice and handed it to him, noticing he had set mine down on the table between us.
He took a sip and then continued, “I honestly didn’t know I’d been that rough with you, Leese. I didn’t remember much from that day until he showed me the pictures.”
“I truly think you could have killed me, maybe not intentionally, but the outcome would have been the same if it had been accidental. But, God has a purpose for everything.”
&nb
sp; He looked like I’d just hit him with a stun gun, “You—you can’t believe that anymore, not after everything that’s happened.”
“Oh, trust me; I believe it more than ever before.”
“Then let me in on the purpose,” he said sounding exasperated. “Or better yet just let me in on the reason and then I can figure out the purpose on my own.”
“Oh, that,” I said, realizing he was talking about why I left him. “I haven’t got that one all figured out yet, but God had a purpose for bringing you to me the day you—you raped me.”
“I can’t stand the sound of that word,” he confessed.
I took a long drink and studied the ocean in the distance. “Neither can I, because I wanted you to take me, I just never expected it to be like that.”
“Will you tell me why this all happened?”
“I can’t—I can’t ever tell you.” I was trying to force back the tears as I took another sip of my drink.
“Then tell me one thing and, for the moment, I’ll be satisfied—is there any way you could still be in love with me?”
That hit me hard. I tried a smile, but the tears were washing it off my face. I couldn’t speak.
“I know you’ll never forgive me, but I have to know if there is any love left.”
“Micah, I’ve loved you with every single beat of my heart, and I forgave you the moment you were finished with me that day. You still don’t know what’s going on and I—I’m sure I’m just as responsible for all the rage and anger that day as a dose of drugs.”
“Ah, baby, don’t say that,” he pleaded, but he surprised me as he literally slipped off the rocker and hit his knees in front of me. “I don’t deserve forgiveness and I certainly don’t deserve your love—I’m just selfish and I want it so bad.”
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