Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: #Romance - General, #Contemporary, #Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), #Fiction - Romance, #Gang rape, #Romance - Contemporary, #Romance: Modern, #E Romantiek, #Modern fiction, #General & Literary Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Revenge, #Fiction
came to Mitch Hearon's funeral, Lamar apologized to me for it. " Looking back at Neal, she said, "So take your case to court if you want to. That's what I'll testify-that my pregnancy was the result of a gang rape instigated by you." "Nobody in hell would believe that."
"Maybe not, but as your father said, it would certainly cause a stink."
"For you."
"And you. Do you remember a woman named Lola Garrison?"
"Who the hell is she?" Neal asked querulously.
"She remembers you quite well, Neal. She was scheduled to be a bridesmaid at your wedding, which never took place because of your accident. Just before you left the rehearsal dinner for your bachelor party, you had carnal knowledge of her in the restaurant powder room. Remember her now?" "Vaguely. So what?"
"Ms. Garrison is a freelance journalist. Several weeks
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ago she spent a day interviewing me for an article in the Sunday supplement."
"I saw it," he said with affected boredom. "Again, so what?"
"She mentioned in passing that the only people she knew in Palmetto were named Patchett. She told me the circumstances under which you had met and called you a 'slimy, sorry son of a bitch' that she would love to get the goods on.
"It seems that after your intended broke the engagement, you spitefully flaunted having had her maid of honor, virtually right under her nose. Your confession ruined a friendship. "
"Friendship my ass, " he scoffed. " Lola, or whatever the hell her name is, went down on me. What kind of friend was she?"
"I wasn't referring to the friendship between the two girls, but between their fathers. The men were business partners. The rift proved to be a costly one for Ms. Garrison's father. He never recovered-either financially or emotionally. She holds you personally responsible for his decline. I'm sure she would love to hear my story about the night at the channel."
There was a moment of taut silence, finally broken by Ivan. "I'm tired of jacking around with you," he said. "If you want to have a mudslinging contest in the newspapers, fine. We'll have one. While this gal is writing about blow jobs in public bathrooms, we'll accuse you of fraud." "Fraud?"
Neal picked up for his father. "You drove up the price of the Parker property with no intention of buying it." "Prove it, Neal," she challenged. "Otis Parker will tes-
tify that I put down a ten-thousand-dollar deposit on the sale of the property. So how are you going to prove that I didn't intend to buy it?"
"I just gave him a million bucks," Ivan shouted. "Otis will testify that his balls are sweet peas if I ask him to." "Except that the deposit was placed in an escrow account.
There will be records. If you have in mind to tamper with
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them as you did with the medical evidence following the rape, don't bother. The account was in my New York bank. "
Father and son exchanged anxious glances. They looked like two men holding on to a life raft that had a slow leak. What little they had to cling to was slowly slipping out of their grasp. Jade could smell their fear. It was sweet.
"Financially, you're ruined," she told them. "In a few months your plant will close down for lack of operating capital. You won't be able to intimidate people with the threat of firing them, because TexTile will provide jobs with better working conditions and far better pay. I'll campaign for an honest man to take over Hutch's sheriff's office. Your days as dictator of Palmetto are over, Ivan."
She looked at Neal. "You don't have the power to hurt people anymore. Your charm was exhausted a long time ago. I never thought you had any."
He moved like a striking snake and caught her arm in a bone-crushing grip. "I can still claim the kid. That would give you plenty of misery."
She worked her an-n free, flinging him off. "I say again, the only way you can claim Graham is to plead guilty to a rape charge."
Neal snickered. "Whatever the statute of limitations is, it must have expired by now."
"In which case, I would file a civil suit against you. And I would, if you pushed me to it, no matter what scandal it might raise. You see, Neal, I didn't believe it was possible to send you to prison for what you did, simply because I didn't want to expose Graham to the truth. Now that you've forced me to reveal it to him, that's no longer a deterrent. Go near him once more," she threatened coldly, "and you go to jail for rape."
"It would be your word against mine," he sneered. "You could never prove it."
Jade opened her handbag and withdrew a videotape. She held it up to them. "This has been in my safe ever since I came back to Palmetto. There's a copy of it in a safe deposit box here in Palmetto and another in a bank in New York,
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which only my attorney has access to. It's painful to watch. I hope I'll never have to use it, but don't think for a minute that I won't if you force me to."
Neal applauded drolly. "Good act, Jade. I'm shaking in my shoes with anticipation. What's on the tape?" "Lamar. "
Myrajane gave a soft, injured cry
"He recorded it a few days before he died. At Lamar's request, his companion sent it to me after his death. It's self-explanatory, but, to paraphrase, he's full of remorse for what he, along with Hutch and you, did to me. He confesses to his crime-your crime, Neal.
"As a dying man, he begs my forgiveness and fears for his immortal soul. He claims that night haunted him for the remainder of his life. It's extremely effective. No one who sees it could doubt that he's telling the truth."
She set the videotape on the coffee table and turned to Myrajane. "What they've done to you today is characteristically reprehensible. They used you. You need never have known about this.
"But even though you do, you won't lay claim to Graham because you didn't even love the son you had, Mrs. Griffith. You made Lamar weak and timid and easily manipulated, just as he was on the night Neal suggested that they take turns raping me. Tliat's why I don't feel bad for buying your family's estate for my company. It will be fully restored and occupied, but not by a Cowan."
Myrajane's wizened face was puckered up like a drawstring purse. "Breeding tells," she said waspishly.
"I pray not, Mrs. Griffith. Not in my son's case anyway," Jade said softly.
Turning her back to the woman, she regarded Ivan, who sat wheezing in his wheelchair, his dignity and power as ravaged as his body. She dismissed him as unworthy of comment, which was the greatest insult she could hand him.
Looking at Neal, she said, -CWm my son and you'll go to prison, Neal. Mess with me again, and I'll file a civil suit against you for what you did to me, and to Gary. Your
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crime will finally come to light and you'll be punished for it. I advise you to cut your losses now.
"When I came back to Palmetto, I planned on sending you to prison, and I could have. With this tape, I could have. But in the last few months I've realized that there are other things more important than punishing you . . . and far more rewarding. I have a new life, a new love, and my son. They are at the center of my world now, not vengeance. From here on, I want to look ahead, not back.
"For fifteen years, my life has been focused on you." She said the last word with a contemptuous smirk. "You're not worth another second's thought. You're finished, and that's enough. It's over."
"The hell it is. I'm not afraid of your threats. You don't scare me, bitch."
"Oh yes I do, Neal," she caln-dy replied. "I'm your worst nightmare-someone who has absolutely no fear of you. "
She took one last look at them, then turned and walked from the room. She moved down the hallway of the house, where the first signs of decay and decline were subtle, but undeniably there. The Patchetts had seen their day.
And Jade had had hers.
As she emerged from the house, she smiled at Dillon and Graham, who were impatiently waiting for her beside the pickup. Graham ran to her, obviously concerned. Knowing the truth hadn't affected his love for her. Now that the facts of his conception had been brought to light, she was relieved of the burdensome secret.
"Mom, what happened?"
"I told them that if they bothered you again, they would be sorry. "
"That's all?" he asked, somewhat disappointed. "Essentially."
He looked at her with consternation. "You should've told me about it."
"Perhaps I should have, Graham." "Didn't you think I'd understand?"
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"It wasn't that. I was trying to protect you. I didn't want you to think any less of yourself because of what your father did-whoever he was."
"Dillon says I'm my own person. I don't need to know which one of them fathered me."
"You're Graham Sperry," she said emotionally, touching his cheek. "That's all the certainty I need."
"Me, too. "
"And just so you'll know, I went to see Hutch before he died. Rather than asking you to be an organ donor, he refused even to consider it. You shouldn't feel any guilt over that."
He glanced toward the house. "Those Patchetts . . . I wish you had let Dillon and me beat them up."
Smiling, she hugged him and looked at Dillon over his shoulder. "I appreciate the offer."
Dillon leaned forward and softly kissed her mouth. "You're one hell of a woman."
"As of last night ... thanks to you.'
His wide mustache curved into a smile. "Let's go home. They rode with the windows rolled down, along the highway that was flat and narrow, bordered by live oaks bearded with moss and tall pines that pointed toward heaven.
"You know what my father used to say to me, Graham?" "Grandpa Sperry?"
"Uh-huh. He used to say, 'Don't ever be afraid, Jade.' I thought he was talking about dying. Today, it occurred to me that he meant something else. He was telling me not to be afraid to live. Dying is easy when you compare it to living. Mama couldn't stand her life, so she ran away from it. Daddy didn't have the courage to live at all. I do."
With youthful resilience and restlessness, Graham was fiddling with the dials on the radio, not really listening ' Dillon, however, had heard and understood every word.
He reached across the seat and swept the tear off her cheek. It was the first tear she had shed in fifteen years. She kissed it from his thumb and rested her cheek in his palm.
When they arrived at her house, she told Graham, "Tell
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Cathy that everything is all right and that we'll be back in time for dinner."
"Where are you going?"
"Dillon and I have an errand to run." "Where to? I want to go."
"You're not invited."
"You just want to be by yourselves so you can kiss; and stuff. "
"Out!" Graham, giving Dillon a man-to-man grin, climbed out. Dillon said, "Set up the chess board. We'll play after supper." Graham smiled and dashed toward the house. "He came through it unscathed, Jade."
"Yes. Thank God," she whispered. "Maybe. Mostly thanks to you."
She waited until Graham had cleared the front door before turning to Dillon. "I want you to take me there. " He didn't need to ask where she wanted to go, only how to get there. She gave him directions.
As the landscape slipped past, she realized how little she resembled the native girl who had driven the same road with her best friend on a cold February evening. Nor was she any longer the determined woman who had deftly navigated the business world like a halfback running full out on the gridiron. She had already scored and no longer had to prove herself.
The two facets of Jade Sperry were merging into one. Like the ingredients of a bouillabaisse, the separate elements of her personality were simmering together. It was an odd mixture, unique in texture and flavor, one she was gradually acquiring a taste for.
After years of driving herself toward one goal, she was back where she had begun. The townsfolk who remembered her no longer regarded her as the girl who had left cloaked in scandal. They treated her with the respect befitting what she was today. Those who had never known her regarded her as a heroine who was doing great things for their community.
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All that Jade had convinced herself she hated, she was surprised to find was actually dear to her-like low-country cooking and small-town life, like summer air that was too heavy to inhale and soft breezes that were redolent with intoxicating floral perfumes and the seminal scent of seawater.
The region couldn't be blamed for the few bad people it had bred. Businesswoman, mother, friend, lover-whatever else she was, she was a woman of the South. Her heart beat in rhythm to its ponderous pace.
The tire tracks leading off the highway were overgrown. No one had been there in a long time. Jade liked to think no one had been there since that night. The banks of the channel looked different in the daylight. The soft slapping sound of the water wasn't sinister. There were no frightening shadows or furtive movements in the darkness.
Dillon patiently stood nearby while Jade wandered around, remembering . . . forgetting. At last she came to stand in front of him.
"Make love to me, Dillon." 'Here?"
'Yes.' I 'WhyT "I don't want to remember this place for the rest of my
life as the scene of the rape. Whenever I do, all the degradation and anger comes back. I want to remember it while it's warm, and the sun is shining, and I'm with the man I love. "
He pushed his fingers up into her hair. "I want you to love me. But are you sure it's me you love, and not what I did for you?"
"I started loving you when I thought I could never express it. And if I never could have, I still would have loved you. " She laid her hands on his cheeks. "I love you. The lovemaking is a bonus."
Sighing her name, he pulled her against him. His arms went around her, strong and embracing. Their mouths came together in a passionate exchange of physical desire and soul-bursting love. They undressed each other, dropping
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