Sweet Backlash (18 page)

He leaned close and placed a hand on
her quaking shoulder. "Did you get bad news?"

"The worst." Moisture swam across her
vision. She blinked against her weakness.

"Won't you tell me? You can trust
me."

"You were curious about what's in
those boxes." She grimaced. He would leave when he learned the
truth. She shook more.

"Yeah. Is that what this is about?"
When she didn't answer right away, he said, "Damn it, Melony. Talk
to me. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'd like you to see what's in those
boxes."

"Now?" He gave her in incredulous
look.

"Yes, now." She closed her eyes and
took a bracing breath. "Something's happened, but I need a minute.
Can you bring the boxes to the living room?"

"You bet. You want me to make
something to eat?"

"I couldn't eat right now if I wanted
to." She went to her room and curled on the bed in the fetal
position. She shook violently. How could they let that monster
free? Keith Bethson. She hadn't allowed herself to think about that
name in years.

As much as she dreaded it, she wanted
to do this. She needed to go through those documents, those
pictures, those videos. She wanted to do it with Chip. She'd
received those boxes from her lawyer's office to save them from
destruction, but hadn't found the courage to face the contents.
Chip made her feel safe, though. With him by her side, she could do
it.

She rolled off the bed and swapped her
robe for clean, white sweats and socks. In the living room, Chip
waited in his own gray sweats. The boxes sat in a stack next to the
couch, the bed put away. "Do you want some wine? Or coffee?" he
asked.

"No, thanks. I just want to get this
over."

He nodded. "Where do you want to
start?"

Taking a deep breath, she read the
labels on the box ends. "This one, first," she said, pointing to
the third box in the stack. She sat cross-legged on the
floor.

He pulled the box out and set it in
front of her then sat at the other side. She loved that he took
this seriously, his expression solemn and respectful, but
open.

Removing the lid, she gazed into his
eyes and began, "When I was seventeen, something really bad
happened. A man named Keith Bethson broke into my bedroom one
night, tied me to my bed, gagged me, and tortured me for six hours.
I almost died." She couldn't believe how calm she
sounded.

"My God, Melony." He leaned away, his
eyes wide and his mouth agape. Putting his hand on hers, he didn't
say more. His features went calm but serious, and he simply waited
for her to continue.

She had expected to find his horror
repulsive. Instead, it reassured her. What she went through meant
something to him. "He cut me." Her voice quavered. "All over. In
some places, he actually flayed off inch-wide strips. He was so
angry. I passed out a lot, and he revived me so he could keep
going."

"I can't believe this. No, I can, but
my God. Why was he so angry?" asked Chip.

"He told the police it was because his
girlfriend left him for somebody else. I never believed that. I
don't know what made him so mad, but it was something bigger,
deeper than a break-up." She sifted through files in the box and
pulled out an eleven-by-fourteen black and white
photograph.

Glancing at it, she was amazed it
didn't have the overwhelming effect she thought it would. She
handed it to Chip, and his face went white.

She took a huge breath. "The
paramedics were afraid to move me, even take the bindings off until
a doctor came. It gave the police a chance to take these pictures.
This is how my parents found me the next morning. I was gagged and
unconscious. I'd lost so much blood. I had three doctors tell me
they couldn't believe I survived that much blood loss."

He whispered, "I can't believe my
eyes. I mean, he mutilated you. I've seen you naked. You're
perfect."

"Three years in and out of hospitals,
five specialists, and seven reconstructive surgeries. I was angry
and bitter for a long time. I sort of fell apart. Lost myself. I
was thinking about committing suicide when I met Kathy. That was a
year ago. She doesn't know what happened to me, but she knows I've
had trauma at the hands of a man. She offered me a chance to get
back in a healthy way. You know, emotional revenge without harming
anyone. All the guys I've dominated wanted it. Still, I never did
get into inflicting pain as much as some would have liked. I lost
my first partner because I wouldn't hurt him enough."

"Damn. Do you know why Keith Bethson
picked you?"

She shook her head. "I don't think
even he did. Intentionally select me, I mean. The police detective
told me I was a random victim. Keith Bethson happened to be near my
high school when class let out for the day. I lived three blocks
away, so I always walked home. He followed and waited until night.
That's all they could get out of him." She pointed at the bottom
three boxes. "Those are copies of all the police records my lawyers
obtained for trial evidence. It took them three months to find him
and bring him into custody."

"Wow. Three months. That must have
been a nightmare for you—knowing he was still free all that time."
He put the picture on the floor, facedown.

Melony shook her head. "I was in the
hospital the whole while. Pain medication kept me pretty much
oblivious. My dad was out of his mind. My mom wouldn't even visit
me. It's weird, but they ended up going through more psychiatric
counseling than I did."

"I imagine the guilt must have been
downright disabling," he suggested. "I can't even imagine how I
would feel if something like that happened to my daughter, in my
house, practically right under my nose."

She looked at him with new respect.
"Yeah, now that you put it like that. I guess I never thought about
it, but you're right. I've been so lost in darkness all these
years, I haven't really considered what they went
through."

He offered her a watery smile.
"Completely understandable."

She pulled a VHS tape out of the box.
"This is the trial. Would you watch this with me?"

"No question. Hand it here." He went
to the entertainment center and set up her old VCR.

"Just to warn you, I was still pretty
scarred. My lawyers had me wear short sleeves and a skirt so the
jury could see. I was a wreck being in the same courtroom with that
guy. I don't know how I got through it." Sitting next to her
lawyer, she had suffered through a throbbing headache that had made
her think her brain would explode.

"How old were you at trial?" He helped
her from the floor, and they sat together on the couch. He put his
arm around her and pulled her into his side.

Surrounded by his warm embrace, she
didn't dread watching the video. "Nineteen. It took my attorneys
two years to put my case together."

"Why so long? Seems like a pretty
black and white case to me." He kissed her hair.

"It was, but they wanted him away
forever. They tried to get him a death sentence, but the judge
wouldn't go there. So he got life."

He watched the tape with her, not
saying a word. When she took the stand on the tape, Chip tightened
his arm around her and kissed her hair again. The tape ended, and
he said, "That wasn't very long. Your case was so strong. How long
did it take?"

She pulled out of his embrace.
"Pre-trials lasted a couple months, but I didn't have to attend
those. The actual trial only lasted two days. The jury came back
right away with their decision." Trembling uncontrollably, she
said, "That telephone call this evening was with a deputy. Keith
Bethson is being released on parole tomorrow afternoon."

"What?" He stood and marched across
the room. "You didn't know about this? Didn't you get a notice
about his parole hearing?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, they sent a
notice to my parents' house and my dad called me. We both decided
it didn't matter because his sentence made him ineligible for
parole. I didn't know about the overcrowding and the governor's
stupid solution. I don't understand how they can let a criminal
like him out after what he did."

Chip crossed his arms over his chest.
"I wish you had called your lawyer. He would have advised you to
take that picture to the parole hearing. Anybody who'd do what he
did isn't human."

"I know," she agreed. "I made a
mistake." She wanted to disappear. Hide somewhere forever where
Keith Bethson would never find her.

He rushed over and took her hands.
"No, you didn't know. Don't punish yourself."

She glanced at the five remaining
boxes. "I'd like to go through them tonight. I've been putting this
off since I got them. I need to do this."

"I'll go through them with you. This
is going to be fine. He'll get out, check in with his parole
officer, make a stupid mistake like visiting a friend who's in
possession of drugs or something, and go back to the pen. It
happens all the time. Next time he comes up for parole, we'll do
everything we can to see he doesn't get it."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Melony, I'd do that for you." He
pulled her off the couch and into a hug. "I'd do that for you," he
repeated quietly.

Chip sat up and rubbed his stiff face.
Beside him on the sofa bed, Melony slept. She had stayed. Smiling,
he glanced at the wall clock. Seven o'clock. He would let her sleep
another half hour. They had gone through the boxes until eleven
o'clock, then she had packed it all away while he fixed them a
light dinner. She had stretched out on his bed and talked about
what she had endured until she fell asleep shortly after one
o'clock. She had a long, tiring day ahead.

After throwing together a quick coffee
cake and putting it in the oven to bake, he started a pot of coffee
and got a shower. Shaved, but still in a towel, he poured two cups
and dished two pieces of cake.

He shook her shoulder. "Wake up,
sleepy head. I made you breakfast in bed."

She rolled over with a yawn. "You
spoil me." Propping her pillow against the couch back, she sat and
accepted her plate and cup. "I can't remember the last time I slept
so well."

Chip sat in the chair and took a sip
from his mug. "I wish you could sleep longer."

"Me, too. We've got a trial prep
meeting on the Jones case this morning. Can't call in
sick."

There was an idea. "Maybe you
should."

"Call in sick?" she asked, one eyebrow
quirked at an odd angle.

"Sure. I've got my car, and I'm not
afraid of Frank. Today's a big day for you. Stay home, lock
yourself in, and I'll fill you in on the prep tomorrow at the
office."

"You're not serious. I can't knock
around here, knowing Keith Bethson is getting out today. I'd go
crazy. It'd be all I could think about. No way. I'm going to work
where I won't get two seconds to give it a thought." She took a
forkful of cake and closed her eyes. "I swear, you missed your
calling. You should've been a chef. This is heaven in my
mouth."

"I thought I was heaven in your
mouth," he teased.

She grinned. "You are. Come here and
I'll show you."

She joked, which said a lot for her
steady frame of mind. His johnson stirred and he silently cursed.
He'd started something he hadn't finish. He'd really wanted to
slake his need of her the night before, but under the
circumstances, he couldn't ask it.

Disappointment laced his tone when he
said, "We don't have time. And you'd better get moving if you're
going to work."

Melony sighed. "You're right. Too
bad."

He finished breakfast and got dressed.
He sat and waited, listening to her sounds in the back bedroom. She
moved slowly. He couldn't help wondering if all this was worth the
trouble. Frank, cuffs, whips and leather, a collar and leash every
time they went out. Now this business with Keith Bethson. What a
nightmare.

He rubbed his eyes. The attack and
torture wasn't her fault. If it had happened to him, he didn't know
that he would've turned out as well. He only knew two women who
came close to having the strength Melony exhibited. One was a
professor at law school, and another was a Massachusetts Supreme
Court judge. He tremendously admired both.

Melony was different,
though.

Yes, she knew what she wanted. Yes,
she had survived a terrifying ordeal. And yes, she had made the
decision and taken the steps to end her role as a victim. What set
her apart was the way she touched him. The way he cared.

During these last three days, she had
scared him, frustrated him, pleasured him, and shown him a better
time than he'd seen in his thirty-two years. She energized him,
intrigued him, and tugged at his heart. When she crumbled last
night, he hadn't wanted to be anywhere but holding her. Yes, she
was worth it and more. He didn't just admire her.

He was falling in love with
her.