Honest Betrayal (43 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

BOOK: Honest Betrayal
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Orson looked at Hunter with contempt. “I don’t listen to orders I don’t give.”

Byron pushed him into a chair. “Think of it as a suggestion.”

Orson glanced at Curtis who stood near the wall like the weak, coward he was.  “You knew about all this?”

 “No, he didn’t.”

“Don’t blame him,” Hunter said. “He called you under our direction.”

“Why are you here?” Orson said.

“To do a little negotiation.”

He began to smile. “What do you have to offer me?”

“Your reputation.”

“I already have one.”

“Yes, but you could lose it. Think of how it would look if it were known that the president of Randolph Medical Supply attacked not only the spokeswoman for the company, but a disabled individual, who has used his products for years, causing her to be hospitalized.”

“I didn’t attack anyone.”

“You made her fall.”

Orson looked bored. “She tripped. Her cane got caught on something and she fell.”

“She said you took her cane.”

“That’s because she’s a liar. You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You’re trying to frame me for something I didn’t do. Too bad you can’t prove this little story of yours. It’s her word against mine.”

“You lying son of a bitch.” Hunter leaped from his seat; Miles grabbed him before he lunged at Orson. “She nearly lost her leg because of you, and you’re not even man enough to admit it.”

Miles patted him on the back. “Don’t let him get to you.”

Hunter sat, his eyes filled with rage.

Byron tugged on the cuffs of his jacket. “In reality, the truth of what happened is immaterial, it’s what we can get the public to believe or more importantly the press. They would love a story like this. I am sure it would sell a lot of papers, but I doubt it would do
you
much good.”

“I can pay them to keep quiet.”

“I’ll pay them even more to speak,” Hunter countered. “Imagine if this went viral.”

Orson felt perspiration rise on his top lip. “What do you want?”

Hunter spread his hands on the desk. “Right now I’m sitting where I want to be.” He shoved a paper across the table. “I know you’re an old man, but I hope you still know how to spell your name.”

Curtis suddenly laughed. “You can’t get rid of us that easy.”

Byron folded his arms. “Do you know a man by the name of Victor Erickson?”

He blinked. “No.”

“Of course you do,” he urged. “You’ve been paying his mortgage for over twenty years.”

Curtis glanced at his father, nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s why you’ve been embezzling money from the company, right? You needed the extra cash to keep your
friend
satisfied.”

“That’s my business not yours.”

“So you admit it’s true?”

Curtis just stared back mute.

“Why don’t you just live with him?”

Orson pounded the arm of his chair. “Because it’s against nature.”

Curtis jerked his head in Orson’s direction. “Because of him,” he said with feeling. “He’s made me feel like a freak my entire life. Like there was something wrong with me. No matter what I did he treated me like a dog.” He glared at Hunter. “Then you came along and he pushed me aside.”

“But I’m your son.”

“I don’t have a son.”

“What?”

“You’re not my son.” Curtis glanced at Orson. “You’re his.”

Hunter sat frozen. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? I’m not your real father.”

Hunter stared at Orson. “Is it true?”

Orson leaned back his face impassive. “Is it true that your mother was a whore? Yes.”

“She wasn’t a whore,” Curtis said.

“How would you know? Did you ever get a chance to find out what she was like?”

Curtis’ mouth twisted into a cynical grin. “You seduced her and you’re still proud of it. Why don’t you tell Hunter everything? Go on Dad, tell him how you took her from me. Tell him how you shamed me. You want to talk about unnatural? What about a father that sleeps with his son’s wife?”

“That’s because she wanted a real man.”

“I tried to change, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t give her a baby, so you did that for me. Twice.” He looked at Hunter. “I hated you the first time I saw you. Every day you reminded me of the control Dad had over my life. When Lionel came…” Curtis briefly held his hands over his eyes. His voice lowered with regret. “I didn’t mean to do what I did. He just wouldn’t stop crying and I lost my temper. I shook him hard. He stopped crying.

“It didn’t take me long to realize what I had done. All I thought about at that time was that I didn’t want to go to prison. So I staged a scene. I used a child—you. I wrapped a scarf tight around Lionel’s neck and told you to hold your brother. You liked to hold your brother while Lionel slept. But when Ruby and Marlene came into the room they knew right away.”

 “Ruby was there?” Hunter said.

“Yes, she was your nanny. She knew everything, but kept it quiet. We covered up the incident, but your mother couldn’t take the pressure and tried to kill herself. You probably don’t remember this but you found her and thought she was tired from painting. Blood soaked your pants and shirts as you hugged her. But she never recovered completely.

“I blamed Dad for everything and that’s when I started stealing money over the years. I threatened to come out if he said anything. I wanted him to pay for making me keep my secret and his too. I wanted him to pay for the life he forced me to lead.” Curtis sighed. “I know none of this was your fault, but I still can’t stop myself from hating you. From seeing you become everything I tried my whole life to become. I envied you. You had your mother’s love, and your father’s respect. Orson wanted to groom you to replace him, he saw himself in you.”

Hunter looked at Orson. “Pity.”

Orson leaned forward. “It’s true you know. You have a lot of me in you. That’s what gives you that fire. We could work together,” he said in a coaxing tone. “We are of the same mind and the same blood. Think of what we could create. How much we could dominate. Wives are just ornaments, I’ll pay for whatever damages you’ve suffered, but don’t let her stop you. No man should be too dependent on a woman. They’re fickle, flighty creatures. But you can depend on me. I know people. I can make you great.”

Hunter came from around the desk and held out a pen, experiencing no feeling towards the man he now knew was his father. “It’s too late.”

Orson whipped out a gun and pointed it at him. “It’s never too late.” He grinned. “You should have known better than to try to beat me.”

Curtis moved forward. “Dad, don’t.”

“Stay where you are. I’ve covered up murder before and this won’t be any different. I’m finally going to do what you should have done years ago.” He aimed and fired. Curtis rushed in front of Hunter then fell back as the bullet made impact. He crumpled to the ground. Hunter dashed over to him and cradled him in his arms. He put pressure on his chest but blood continued to seep through. “Dad, you’ve got to be strong now.”

Curtis slowly shook his head. “But I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. You’re the only father I’ve known.”

His breathing grew more labored. “All this time I thought I hated you, but what I hated was me. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you Dad,” Hunter said, holding him close although he could feel the life quickly leaving his father’s body. “Do you hear me? I forgive you. You have to hang on.” He squeezed his eyes shut but tears slipped from underneath his lids. “I forgive you please. Please, Dad don’t leave me.”

“He’s gone,” Orson said.

Hunter slowly turned his heated gaze to him. “You killed him.”

“Pity. I wasn’t aiming for him.” Orson lifted his gun again then his head seemed to explode and his body fell to the ground. The men stood stunned then noticed Orson’s wife Audrey standing in the doorway. She lowered her weapon then fell to her knees and sobbed. “God forgive me, but it’s all over now.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Hunter walked along a strip mall as the summer wind howled through the alleyways hinting at the coming of autumn. Although four months had passed, the confrontation with his grandfather—he still couldn’t call him his father—and his father continued to replay in his mind.  He now worked with his Uncle Walter, who he’d appointed president, and Doran to help restructure the company. He didn’t care if Doran eventually became CEO; he no longer desired the position. He enjoyed being a consultant with FreedomWear and investing in other companies and working on new inventions. He and Brenna had looked at possible new homes, but weren’t eager to move. He’d accomplished a goal he didn’t even realize he had. He now had someone to come home to. Someone who cared whether he came home or not. It was a satisfying feeling.

 He was about to turn around when a carousel horse in a gift shop window caught his eye. He went inside and stood in front of the display case. He turned when he saw wispy brown hair in the corner of his eye. “Pauline?”

She turned with a welcoming smile. It fell when she saw him. “Yes?”

He pointed to the display case. “Which one do you think I should choose? The horse or the carousel?”

Pauline looked at him stunned then wary. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a gift for Brenna. I’m not sure which one she’ll like.”

He was so focused on the objects he didn’t even sense her animosity towards him. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” she said ready to leave.

He nodded. “You’re right. Both are nice.” He smiled faintly. “But Brenna really likes carousels. Perhaps I should get both.”

Pauline stared at him uncertain. She couldn’t match the doting husband in front of her with the arrogant, cold man she’d met earlier. The man who’d stormed into Brenna’s office and convinced her to enter into a marriage of convenience.  She remembered Brenna telling her how he’d saved her niece’s puppy’s life, but she hadn’t seen it, so she hadn’t thought much about him. She couldn’t imagine him caring about anyone but himself. She didn’t understand him, would never try to, but she knew one thing his faint smile couldn’t hide. He loved Brenna—a lot. And maybe if she’d let herself admit it, he’d saved Brenna’s life, as he had the puppy, saving her from a life of isolation and enriching it somehow.

“The carousel,” she said. “She’ll like the carousel.”

“You don’t think I should get both?”

“No.”

“Yes, I suppose two gifts show a sense of indecision. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She hesitated. “Tell Brenna I was wrong.”

 He nodded then approached the counter. Pauline watched him with a heart full of joy and regret.

***

Hunter stood in the living room, wondering where he should set the gift. When Brenna came out of the bedroom he wanted her to find it in the perfect place. He’d set it on the shelf, the dining room table, and the windowsill. He was about to put it in the kitchen when Brenna came out of the bedroom. He was surprised to see her in a business suit. “Where are you going?”

“To an emergency meeting.”

“Do you want me to take you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He held out the box. “Here. I bought this for you.”

She glanced at her watch then the box obviously torn. “Is it important?”

His heart fell. “No, I just—”

“Then I’ll open it later.” She crooked her finger, inviting him closer. He leaned toward her. She kissed him. “I’ll see you when I get back.” She glanced at her watch again then raced out the door.

Hunter sighed and set the box on top of the TV. He picked up a magazine and flipped through its pages. He was on his third magazine when the doorbell rang.  He swore, tossing the magazine aside, then answered.

An older woman with a short gray Afro in a flowery dress stood there holding a peach colored note.

Hunter pulled out his wallet. “Which charity is this for?”

“I’m not a charity.”

He put his wallet away, curious. Perhaps she was a neighbor in need of sugar. In TV shows people always seemed to ask for stuff like that. “How can I help you?”

Tears sprung to her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

He took a step back. Great. He’d opened the door to a nutcase. “I’m sorry, but you must have me confused with someone else.” He began to close the door.

Her tone firmed. “Hunter Matthew Randolph, don’t you close that door on me.”

 His heart stopped as he stared at her. “Shit.”

She smiled, showing off her dimples. “That’s not the kind of welcome I’d expected, but I know what you mean.”

“They told me you were dead.”

“I was dead to them. I know this is a shock.” She tugged on one of her earrings. “I was shocked when your wife found me.”

“Brenna?”

She raised a sly brow. “You have another wife?”

“Uh, no,” he said lamely. He couldn’t believe Brenna was behind this. He began to smile, then again, he wasn’t. At least now he understood her ‘emergency meeting’.

 “I wasn’t sure if I should come, but your wife assured me this would be a good idea.” She rested her hands on her hips. He noticed two large gold bracelets circling her wrists. No doubt they covered her scars. “So do you want to hug, kiss or shake hands?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll make up your mind.” She hugged him and at first he stiffened then allowed himself to relax. He wrapped his arms around her, fighting against the tightening in his throat and the threat of tears. He abruptly pulled back and cleared his throat. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Can I come in?”

He took a hasty step back. “Yes, come in. Would you like anything to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.” She sat down and looked around the room with appreciation. “You have a lovely home.”

Hunter shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her gaze. Strange, but he’d never considered the apartment a home before. He’d never considered any place he’d lived a home, but suddenly it seemed true. From the window he could see the sun spreading its golden rays on the lake, the bookshelf crowded with Brenna’s books, his sketches scattered on the couch and the faint scent of lilac lotion Brenna loved to wear. Yes, he and Brenna had a home. They always would no matter what size.

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