Bella's Choice (26 page)

Reluctantly, Aldrich walked backward out of the room. Numb, but still fixated on her.

“It’s all right,” the doctor assured Aldrich in a gentle tone. “I will examine her and give her something for the shock. When I am done, you can sit with her. Not that she will remember much as she will fall asleep immediately after the injection.” Replaced by sympathetic concern, the doctor lost his professional tone.

A deadening silence filled the room and the hallway. The two friends stood outside the door waiting, leaning against the wall for much needed support.

Aldrich pulled out his phone and dialed a well-known number. It was answered in seconds.

“Dad, please come. I am at Tim’s parents’ house.” Not willing to say anything further he ended the call, visibly shaking as he swallowed at the lump in his throat. He knew his dad would understand. What could he say in any case? Until the doctor confirmed or denied his suspicions, he had no news. However, he wanted his father’s quiet strength there. Unbidden flashbacks of a previous time entered his mind, and he crumbled to pieces, sobbing, not caring that Tim was witnessing his meltdown.

It’d felt like hours before the doctor finally opened the door.

“Well, doctor?” Aldrich almost screamed out, his nerves on end. The air electrified with anticipation as both stared at him.

“She was not raped.” Relief was visible on the older man’s face.

Thankful, Aldrich kneeled as if he were praying, the pressure too great. He trembled from the sudden release.

“Thank you, thank you,” he murmured in gratitude as he stared up at the physician. Tears were running down his face unhindered and through the stubble that had already formed on his face.

“She was definitely attacked, but she fought back. She has skin under her fingernails. Her body is bruised, but no broken or fractured bones. I gave her a mild sedative. She will sleep now.”

Without any prompting, Aldrich rose fluidly from the floor, pushed the doctor aside and went straight to her. At her bedside, he knelt down to be close to her. He grasped her hand in his own, kissing every digit with the utmost care. It felt cold and unresponsive in his. Hands that could cleave through water were now numb and lifeless.

When he looked at her, he felt immense love for her; small and fragile she lay in that bed, dried tears had streaked her cheeks. Tiredness covered her body in a pale shade, devoid of any life. She looked at him and gave him a weary smile before she fell asleep.

Mrs. Richter followed soon after, speaking softly to him so as not to disturb Anabella, but she needed to be cleaned. At first he shook his head but she assured him that she would be quick about it. She explained that the doctor said it would help Anabella’s healing and reluctantly he left, waiting outside the door. When she opened it minutes later, he was back in. There was no stopping him this time, and everyone else left them alone.

He just sat next to her for the rest of the night. Much later, his father and Monica found him still holding her hand. He’d fallen asleep right next to her, his arm wrapped around her protectively. They thought it best to leave him, even if his body would ache in the morning due to the unnatural position.

“We didn’t sign up for this,” John spoke the moment Anabella ran out of the house. No one had chased after her, and John was upset about the sick scenario. He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed. He held his wife’s hand in a frantic attempt to hold it together. With a feverish anger, he looked at those laughing, who upon seeing John’s face quickly stopped. Some were ashamed with their behavior, avoiding his eyes, shuffling away.

He couldn’t believe that he’d brought his wife into this set-up, wanting to bed them. It had been a long time fantasy for him, and when they both turned forty, Martie had been willing to explore. She’d read a few novels about the subject and had been intrigued from the start. He made contact with a group on the Internet, which had led him to this gathering tonight. It would have been their first time, but after what he’d just witnessed, he wasn’t sure anymore.

“What kind of people are you? You are her mother!” Venom dripped from each word as he spoke, disgusted with Sandra while he continued to pin her with a heated look. “And you allowed this? It is sick! You are sick.” He waved his hands around the room, taking in everyone gathered there. Seething, he watched the older woman just stand there with anger and disdain written on her face, as if she were the one who’d suffered.

God Almighty, what mother does things like this,
he thought.

André
―a man whom he’d had the highest respect for due to a business connection―was in the middle of it all. During the introduction, John had been surprised to see him there; never once thinking he would meet the man under these circumstances. Now he was venting his own anger on the sons as they watched him with mock arrogance. At least they had been more than willing to help their sister.

The father, Jason, whom he’d met a week ago, he really liked. The man was a real gentleman toward his wife. Martie had been giddy as a schoolgirl with all the attention he’d flourished on her. He had been satisfied that it would be a great adventure to them both. Now here was the father in the arms of a blond, while his daughter was being molested. She’d managed to get away, running down the road practically naked in the dark.
What kind of man does this to his only daughter?

“Come, Martie, I want nothing to do with this.” He walked away, his wife following his lead, both utterly outraged with what they’d seen.

“Mustn’t we call the cops?” she asked John as he drove away, his car spinning down the road in the opposite direction to where Anabella had ran.

“And tell them what?” he fumed. He just wanted to distance himself from those people. A case would be harmful to him if word got out that they had attended such a party. They both fell silent.

More people left, the ‘joke’ had turned sour and they thought it in their best interests to go, now showing disgust toward both the parents and André. Soon it was only Sandra, Jason, Roy, Derek, André, and Chaney left in the dining room.

“So, does this mean the party is over?” Chaney asked, her voice trembling with bottled-up anger. She’d thought that this night would be the turning point for her, but no, Anabella had messed it up. Big time! She hated that girl.

“Yes, darling, I think you need to go home,” Jason said somberly. He never turned a woman away, but the forlorn look on his face said he was done for tonight.

“I don’t want to leave, I want to stay with you,” she insisted, and pressed her curvaceous body against his.

He smiled ruefully at her and slapped her on her bottom. “You are a tease, darling, but not tonight. I will call you soon.”

“You promise?” she pouted up at him, and he nodded as he kissed her gently. She walked to André, who appeared calmer now than minutes ago, staring into nothing. “Are you okay?” She leaned into him, trying to draw his attention toward her, but he just growled something incoherent.

Feeling all alone, she looked one last time at Jason before she walked away. She left the house contemplating her next move.

“André, I am sorry,” Sandra began, slumping down on the chair next to him. She couldn’t believe how disastrous the night had ended. She had waited a long time for this, and was sure that Anabella would join in the party she had planned. She’d seen the curious looks Anabella gave the group of late,
and she was convinced that she’d still have been persuaded to embrace it. She looked around her dining room; the cake was untouched and still in the same spot, now a mocking reminder of the failed night.

Sandra knew they’d lost many friends tonight, and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. They could have handled it differently. Maybe if they had taken her to her room she would have changed her mind. It wasn’t supposed to have turned out the way it had.
How could Anabella have done this? Where did I go wrong with her?

That the problem lay at her doorstep didn’t enter her mind. Neither did the fact that Anabella had the right to refuse and could decide what would be the right choice for her. None of these thoughts ever entered her mind, so preoccupied was she with her own life and wants.

Anabella was her only daughter, and she wanted her to experience the joy she’d had on many occasions; the thrilling experience of opening oneself up to a man so that he could have his way. The power a woman has when a man loses himself. Now her dreams were shattered. She looked at him; he was visibly shaken after the ordeal. Would their relationship change after this?

“It wasn’t your fault,” he exclaimed softly as he got to his feet. He looked ten years older than he really was. The angry scratch on his face was a silent reminder of what had taken place. She watched as he walked out of the house without another word, his shoulders slumped under the heavy weight of his worries.

Moments later, she heard his Land Cruiser start up, then growing faint as he reversed out of the driveway and onto the street, and with a soft purr the engine roared away. A stillness she’d never experienced before covered the house, not even the night critters made a sound. She shivered, because at that moment, it felt ominous and dangerous.

Her husband stood quietly across the table as he watched her. Their eyes met. He opened his arms and she rushed toward him, crying softly into his chest. Sandra couldn’t understand her own emotions. She was a person who’d never given in to such frivolous things, life was too short. This was all a first for her. She had no idea that what she felt was the emptiness of a relationship she’d lost with her only daughter. She had no idea of the devastation she had caused Anabella, and how she would feel about them now. Severed deep into its roots, a life long relationship had been destroyed, with no opportunity of repairing the damage. They would never speak again.

“I would think that tears are a little too late,” Roy’s sneering voice broke the silence and her sobs.

Both turned to their eldest and listened to his rebuking words.

“You should’ve thought about what you were doing a long time ago, but as always, you didn’t. It is all about your own wants and needs. Neither of you knows your daughter, and yet you thought she would be okay with all of this.” Waving his hand in the air he indicated everything, his face showing a sour and disgusted look. “Good for her that she managed to get away.”

Both Roy and Derek stood there, their rigid stances clearly marking their disapproval and disdain toward the two people who called themselves parents.