Illusions Complete Series (43 page)

It wasn’t until I was forced out of my job that I began to realize what a sadistic monster I was. I was no longer able to get my short-term fix of making others miserable. I, of course, howled about how unjust it all was. The company was experiencing a downturn because the country was experiencing a downturn, and I was scapegoated. After all I did for them!

It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I decided to travel the world, and, after I traveled all through Europe, South America and Australia, I ended up in Asia. I found an Ashram, and spent several years there while converting to Hinduism.

It was there, through meditation and prayer, that I started to understand myself. I made peace with my own sadistic father, who regularly sexually abused me from the age of 5, and my mother, who knew what was going on, and did nothing to stop it. They, of course, were very wealthy, very old money, so nobody would have ever believed me if I said anything. So, I never did. I got some satisfaction in inheriting their billions after they died, but only because their money helped me perpetuate their sadism, by making their sadism my own. I also thank God that I was expected to go to boarding school at the age of 10, which means that I was able to get away from my father for good. By then, I was so filled with rage that I caused trouble wherever I went.

I did try to be good, though. Like Dorian Gray, there was always a seed that wanted to be good, but, like Dorian Gray, that seed never took root. When I met your mother on a trip to Ireland when I was 22 and fresh out of Yale, I thought that I finally found my key to happiness. She was so angelic and full of spit and vinegar at the same time. Of course, looking back, she was a possession for me, a beautiful possession. No different than the Van Gogh I acquired, or all the companies I looted. When she was diagnosed with schizophrenia, she became utterly useless to me, so I threw her away. As I would any defective possession. I am deeply ashamed of that mentality now, but that was how I thought at the time.

But you…It took me a long time, and many years of meditation while on the Ashram, to try to come to terms on why I treated you the way that I did. You always had the kindness and beauty of your mother. And I hated you for that. I hated you because you were everything that I could never be. You were loving and compassionate, where I was hard and cruel. I wanted you to be hard and cruel as well, so that is why I abused you. That is why I forced you to take part in my sick games. I wanted you to be like me – filled with self-loathing, calculating, and ruthless.

Of course, I never did make you hard and cruel. I learned about your drug problem, and took some satisfaction in that. As sick as that sounds. But cruelty just wasn’t in your constitution. I continued to hate you for not becoming like me, up until I spent those years finding peace in India.

Cruel irony. When I got back to the States, I was determined to make amends to you, Sarah and Margaret. It was then that I found out about my diagnosis. I had been losing weight, not eating, and coughing for a period of months. By the time I went to the doctor about my symptoms, I was already in Stage 4. I have not been responding to treatment thus far, and it seems that, barring a miracle, I do not have much time left.

I have sent for you and Sarah. I am very sorry for all of the publicity you have garnered, by the way. I feel responsible for that, as well, because I was responsible for your getting mixed up with that rotten Ms. Anderson in the first place.

So, it seems that I will not get my chance to establish a relationship with my family after all. These letters hopefully will help all of you find peace. I have written a letter to Sarah and Margaret as well, telling them different things. You may all share the letters amongst yourselves as you wish.

I just wanted all of you to know that I do love you all, and I am deeply sorry for all that I did to make all of your lives a living hell. I regret everything that I have ever done in my life, because it seems that all my deeds in this life have involved some kind of wickedness. I know that now. I wish all of you all the happiness in the world. All that happiness that I did not have, I wish for all of you.

There is not much more to say. I do not expect your forgiveness, but if I get it, I will be eternally grateful.

Love always,

Dad

After I read the letter a few times, I looked at Ryan. He was standing next to me, studying me, trying to gauge my reaction. He looked much different than before he saw his father. He was no longer pale, and his eyes no longer had the depths of hurt in them. He looked…serene. And sorrowful, but in a different way than before. It was more like he was sorrowful for losing somebody that he just realized he loved, as opposed to hurt because of everything that person did to him.

I didn’t really have words. This was so profound, it seemed that anything I would say would be trivial. Ryan had gone through so much in his life, all of which was directly attributable to his father’s behavior, and he finally got the answers he had always sought. And, by the looks of things, he forgave his father, as well.

This was huge.

Finally, I spoke. “This is perhaps the greatest thing that has ever happened to you.”

He smiled. “Well, second greatest thing,” he said, taking me in his arms. “Behind meeting you, of course.” Then he kissed me.

One thing was certain. Even though I found myself wavering about my feelings for him, his magnetic attraction for me never dimmed. I felt that kiss as I have always felt all of his kisses. Every hair stood on end, and my body felt flushed and warm.

We ended up making love on the grassy area behind the bluff, both of us almost fully clothed. I was wearing a skirt, and he laid me down and slipped off my panties. Then he unzipped his pants, and lowered his underwear, and entered me right there, his pants and underwear around his knees, kissing me passionately on the lips the entire time. He raised my arms above my head, holding my wrists firmly in place while he thrust hungrily. We were in plain view of anybody who would be walking by, be it Sarah or one of the help, but neither of us cared. He evidently had a need for me right then, and I always craved him as well.

Afterwards, we were spent, and lay there on the grass after dressing ourselves again. I was on my side, and Ryan lay perpendicular, his head on my waist. I stroked his hair, as he talked.

“I feel like a 1,000 pound weight has been lifted off of me,” he said. “All my life, I have felt this kind of suffocation. This anxiety. This fear. I have tried so hard to shake it, and I have to admit that meeting you helped me do that for the most part. But it was still always there, lingering.” He hesitated, grabbing my hand, and playing with my fingers lightly. “Now, it is completely gone. Completely gone. I have forgiven my father for what he did to me, and I have even understood him. How broken he is. He wanted me to be like him, and I was in a way. Both of us broken, just acting out in different ways. Me with drugs, him with abuse and sex addiction. And raiding companies. The irony is, of course, that I was like him. He just didn’t know it.”

“I’m so happy for you. So very, very happy for you.”

“Ah, life would be perfect right now. If there weren’t for the little matters of Rochelle on the loose, our private lives being trashed, my job, which is about to can me, and having to make sure that you’re safe.” He smiled. “You know, little things like that.”

“Your job is about to can you?”

“Yeah. I’ve been gone for most of this year, you know. They’ve had an interim president in there, and they want me back, because I always did a good job for them. But, they’re losing patience with me. And the interim guy has been doing a stellar job, which complicates things.”

“So, we probably have to get back and face the music, huh?”

“Well, maybe. Now that I’ve broken the ice with my father, I feel like I need to spend time with him before he dies. There is so much to say, so much catching up to do. He knows a lot about my life, because it turns out that he has had people keeping tabs on me and reporting back. But I really know nothing about him, except what he told me in that letter. And this whole thing has brought me so much closer to Sarah as well.” He picked up a little daisy, and examined it thoughtfully before handing it to me, tickling my nose with it. “You don’t mind staying here for a little while, do you?”

“No, of course not. That means that I can put off the whole bodyguard situation for a little while, so that’s all good with me.” I smiled. “I’m joking, of course. In all actuality, I’m just thrilled that you’re re-establishing a relationship with your father.”

So, we ended up staying at the Newport home for an entire month. Benjamin was actually getting better, because he was doing alternative medicines that were brought to him from some of the yogis he knew at the Ashram, and he also did Reiki therapy and acupuncture. This was in addition to his chemotherapy. By the end of the first week that Sarah and Ryan were there, Benjamin was sitting up in his bed and eating solid food. He wasn’t exactly ready to play tennis again, but he was improving, and his doctor who came to visit him every day informed him that his tumors were shrinking.

By the second week, I would pass by the bedroom and hear laughter coming out of the room. Ryan and Sarah’s laughter, and also Benjamin’s. I kept my distance, knowing that I had nothing to add to their bonding experience, and would actually detract from it. So, I made myself scarce - watching movies in the home theater, reading books by the indoor pool and in the Jacuzzi, wandering around the magnificent greens, working out in the gym. I worked on my tennis game with a pro that Benjamin sent over to teach me every day. My hand-eye coordination wasn’t the best in the world, but I was pretty fit these days, so that helped.

By the third week, Benjamin was dressing for meals and was able to slowly walk around the grounds. He was also ready to get to know me a little better.

“So, you’re Peanut’s girl?” he said. He had gained several pounds since I first met him, and his color was coming back rapidly. He looked more like the handsome man he no doubt was in his youth, with his thick salt and pepper hair, twinkly blue eyes and chiseled features. He was dressed in a white sweater and khaki pants, and was walking slowly with me along the garden path, using a cane.

I still felt creeped out by him, though. I knew that things were better, and Ryan and Sarah were bonding with him. But I couldn’t get out of my head all that he did. I supposed that people could change, particularly if one has spent years in an Ashram and was presently facing a death sentence that appeared to be commuted for now. So, I tried to shake off my bad feeling and get to know him as well.

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m sure that you know all about me.”

I nodded.

“I’m a different guy, now. The doctor actually says that I’m getting better. He thinks it’s because the chemo is working. My yogi thinks that my heartbreak is healing, because my kids love me again, so my body is getting stronger. Mind over matter and all that.”

“I believe that,” I said. “I am a firm believer in alternative medicine and the healing power of the mind. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Listen, I know about your troubles. I feel responsible for them. My abusive ways towards my son was like a tumbling rock that caused an avalanche. Everything that happened to him happened because of me. Including his sordid and cheap affair with that floozy socialite Rochelle.”

“It wasn’t a sordid and cheap affair. It was child molestation on her part,” I corrected him.

“Well, that’s what I meant. I just didn’t come out and say it that way, but you’re correct. At any rate, Ryan was mixed up with her because of me, which means that she wouldn’t have been coming after you if it were not for me. So, I owe you a debt, as well.”

“In a weird way, though, Mr. Whitney, the mere fact that I know Ryan is probably due to you. So you have indirectly caused a good thing, too.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“It stands to reason that Ryan’s life would’ve been completely different if it weren’t for the abuse and the sex parties. It would’ve been better for him, but I doubt that he would’ve known me. He probably would’ve been married to a better woman than Alexis when he was young, and would be married to her today,” I said, plucking a lavender stalk and smelling its fragrance. “It may sound selfish on my part, but I owe you a debt in a weird way, because if it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve never known Ryan in the first place.”

He stood looking at me thoughtfully, then shook his head. “I suppose you’re correct about that, but I have to consider the bad consequences with the good. And the bad consequences for my actions, for you, are pretty bad. Now, I know people who have been trained governmental assassins, who are now working as private bodyguards. And I-“

“Ryan and I talked about that. I don’t want a bodyguard.”

“With all due respect, my dear girl, you do not know who you are dealing with. That woman has been unhinged since the day I met her. They say that she murdered her first husband, and I do not doubt that for a split second. Not even for a hair of a second.”

“What happened to her first husband?” I asked, remembering her telling me in jail that her husband had left her and taken her son away from her.

“She married him when she was 19, and had the kind of rare captivating beauty that drew men in like polar magnets. He was a prominent oil and gas billionaire, inherited from his father. He was only 33-years-old. Four years after they married, he dropped dead. Of a heart attack. At the age of 37, and he was fitter than a fiddle. He ran marathons, stayed away from junk, never smoked, and had no family history of heart disease. His parents died young, but they were in a car accident.” We had arrived at a marble bench that was surrounded by flowers, and we sat down. “The rumors were fast and furious that she obtained some poison that was untraceable and put it in his food. They could never prove it, of course. Either that, or money changed hands, so that the medical examiner magically couldn’t find anything.”

“If his death was suspicious, weren’t there family members who would’ve demanded a second opinion from another medical examiner?”