Betrayed

mountain?” Seeing the answer in Brook’s eyes, he shouted, “No! I won’t allow it. I love you. You can’t leave me. You can’t love another man. You're mine; you belong to me.”

Brook shook her head and walked from the room; the sounds of his pleading followed her through the long hallway and up the staircase.

“It’s just gratitude you feel for him!” he called after her. “It’s not love! You love me, and you know it.”

Brook entered their bedroom and stared at the bed she had shared with Clark. There was no way she would ever sleep in that bed again. Going to the dresser, she pulled out some clothes and took them with her to the guest room. Locking the door behind her, she went into the attached bathroom and ran a hot bath. She heard Clark knock on the bedroom door several times, but she ignored him. She wept as she bathed, her misery spilling out in hot tears.

Later, in bed, she hugged the pillow to her and missed Lance. After the warmth and comfort of his cozy cabin, her own house felt like a mausoleum. She cried for her marriage that had turned out to be an empty union. She cried for the hurt she had endured. And she cried for the one man who knew how to take away her pain. Lonely as she had ever been, Brook finally drifted into a restless sleep.

Chapter 53

That first night, Lance thought the ache in his heart would get the best of him. He reached over and touched the empty space where Brooklyn had lain and felt tears behind his eyelids. He wondered how she was doing, pictured her walking the floors of her fancy home. Against his will, he envisioned her in the arms of her husband and punched the mattress with his fist.

I have to stop thinking about her! There’s nothing that can be done.

Long hours passed before he was able to sleep.

Chapter 54

The next morning, Clark followed Brook around as she took her suitcases from the closet and packed her things. The argument continued until she wanted to slap him.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Clark said. “But you did wrong, too. You’re not little Miss Perfect, you know.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. “You're breaking my heart, here! I'm trying to be reasonable but you're just determined to destroy our marriage. I just don't understand it. I don’t see why we can’t just forgive each other and go on like before.'

'I'm not asking your forgiveness, Clark.' Brook gripped her hands together until her knuckles whitened, fighting the urge to strike out.

'If I’m willing to forgive you, why can’t you forgive me? I’ve learned my lesson. My god, have I ever learned my lesson!”

“I doubt if I’ll ever be able to forgive you. But, if I do, it’ll be because I don’t want to carry the bitterness around in my heart any longer, and not because you deserve it. Face it Clark, our marriage is way beyond repair. It’s over.” Brook was shaking from barely contained rage and heartache. “I’m not sure even now you can grasp the horror I went through. Open your ears and listen to me. I was raped, Clark! Again and again. And I was beaten. I was almost killed! Then, after I managed to get away, I fell down a ravine and got lost in the forest. I only had a shirt on, no shoes, nothing. I went through hell! And all because of you! If it weren’t for pure luck and the kindness of Lance, I’d be dead right now.”

Clark slammed his hand onto the dresser. “Lance! You know, you keep bringing him up. All this time I was worrying my ass off about you, and you were up there in a cozy little love nest banging a complete stranger. What about that, Brook?”

“Shut up! You make it sound filthy and vulgar and cheap. I won’t stand for it! It wasn’t like that at all. The man saved my life, Clark. He not only kept me from dying, he gave me new reasons to be glad I’m alive. You could never understand it no matter what I say. There's no point in discussing it. I don't even want to talk about it with you. I’m through!” Brook’s face was flushed. She refused to allow Clark to reduce her love for Lance to a base animal act. He was trying to shame her and she resented it. “There is no way you can equate what you did with what I did anyway, hard as you might try, Clark. There’s just no way.”

She walked down the stairs, her suitcases banging against her legs. She dragged the bags into the garage, surveyed the remaining cars, and decided to take the Lexus. She opened the trunk, deposited her luggage, and pulled out of the garage. Driving away, she took one last look at the outside of the house. Clark’s forlorn figure leaned against the front entry, watching her.

 “Goodbye,” she whispered before accelerating down the road.

Brook checked into a motel room, plugged her cell phone into its charger, and unpacked her clothes. While she waited on her phone to charge, she placed a call to her parents from the room phone and told them as gently as possible that she had left Clark. Once again her mother expressed a desire to hop on a plane, but Brook implored her to wait. She would visit soon, she promised.

Brook stared at her phone where it lay charging. After all these months, she knew she would find it loaded with desperate messages from her family. She wasn’t strong enough to hear those heartbreaking calls just yet. That would have to wait for another time.

Turning back to the room phone, she made an appointment with an attorney to file for divorce. Then she called Randi to let her know where she was staying. There was a note of sympathy in the detective’s voice. She could read between the lines and suspected that Brook’s marriage was on a downward slide.

 “I tried to call your house but got no answer,” Randi said. “We have someone in custody and we’d like you to take a look at a lineup. Could you come in later this morning?”

Brook’s heart thudded.

“Which one?” Her throat squeezed nearly shut and she spoke with difficulty.

“Benny.” Randi listened through a long pause, and then continued. “Although his ID has him as Kevin Russell Benson.”

Brook swallowed hard. “I’ll be there.”

Later that morning, Brook entered the police station and was escorted into the inner sanctum by a young policewoman. A few people passed by them as they made their way down the hall. Brook clutched her purse nervously under her arm and touched the bracelet Lance had given her. She sought comfort and courage from the precious gift.

“BrooklynBridge!” a familiar voice exclaimed.

As recognition slammed through her, the blood drained from Brook’s face, and nausea rose in her throat.

Benny was being led in chains down the hall by a massive uniformed officer, a Hispanic man with arms the size of Benny’s thighs. Benny looked Brook up and down from a distance of no more than four feet and licked his lips suggestively.

“That’s him!” Brook screamed, ducking behind the policewoman beside her. “He’s one of them!”

Benny started toward her, but was yanked back by his escort and slammed against the wall. “You just need to back off, buddy. Just chill,” the officer warned Benny, holding him easily in place with one beefy hand.

“Hey, baby!” Benny smirked at Brook. “You missed me, didn’t you? I missed you. It sure is good to see you again.”

“Make him shut up!” Brook’s voice bordered on hysteria and she covered her ears with trembling hands. “Get him away from me!”

Randi poked her head out of a doorway. “What the hell’s going on?” she demanded. Looking both ways, she took in the situation. “Get him outta here! Now!” she yelled as she rushed to Brook’s side. Brook found herself