Rose of Betrayal (62 page)

Read Rose of Betrayal Online

Authors: Elizabeth Lowe

 

           
Misconceptions
clarified with Ted, now she had to right the wrongs done to the one she came to
realize, too late, she desperately loved.
 
If, by the time she healed Brad no longer loved her, no longer wanted
her, it would not matter.
 
The master who
taught the meaning of love now needed to learn the significance of
healing.
 
The powerful sustaining love he
had given her would be enough for both of them.
 

 

           
Doctor
Swartz gazed at the incredibly beautiful woman before him, thin and delicate
with an inexhaustible courage to live.
  
Although he grieved privately for her stolen innocence he knew in order
to be a survivor one had to accept reality.
 
She bravely acknowledged that challenge the day he implored her to
live.
 
She could have refused and pursued
the glowing angels beckoning her.
 
He had
witnessed countless others claim alcohol, drugs and death as an escape from
reality, but not Samantha.
 
She did not
shrink away from what humankind dealt her.
 
The bright clarity in her eyes spoke of her dignity, her gentleness, her
daring to defy the odds.
 
The cruelties
of life did not claim her spirit.

 

           
Coaxing
his emotions to attention, in unspoken thanks her dainty hand felt like velvet
as it flowed over his hand.
 
A surge of
warmth penetrating his skin delivered an indelible message worth a thousand
words to his heart.
 
Directly he recalled the photo he had given to
the plastic surgeon.
 
Many times, he
retrieved it transfixed by her photogenic face.
 
He knew what a smile could do to such winsome features, for it turned
some of his darkest days into sunshine.
 
Before she left the hospital, he hoped he would not miss that moment in
time.
  
Going against a sacred vow, he
came to care for Samantha more than he did any other patient.
 
For the rest of his life to beloved by such a
champion he would always wonder.
 
Knowing
who the fortunate man was, did not help.
 
A pinch of jealousy nipped at his heart.
 

 

After witnessing the
unveiling of the mystic person, the medical team stared at her in adoration
proud of their success, even prouder of the graceful form that with the
slightest movement of her eyes could make the wind stand still.
 
Each member of the team came forward, patted
her hand and left.
 
Utterances were
unnecessary there were no appropriate words to decipher their elation.

 

Blinking rapidly
Franklin turned her head toward the window silently forcing her emotions under
control.
 
How sad, she thought, the one
who loved her most was not there.

           

Sam's quivering lips
parted.
 
Ever so slightly, she moved her
jaw, no words escaped.
 
Tension
encompassed the room, those present eagerly awaiting the name of the person
responsible for such heinous acts against the exquisite enchanter.

 

The loving parents
refusing to leave her side throughout her ordeal pulled Sam into their
embrace.
 
Internally she was healing
well.
 
Her vision was beginning to
clear.
 
In time, her face would again be
flawless.
 
If their daughter never spoke
another word, they would not ask God for more.
 

 

           
Reaching
beyond them, Sam found the pad and pen on her nightstand.
 
After painstakingly scratching a few letters,
she handed the pad to her father.
 
His
expression turned quizzical as her pleading eyes wordlessly sent him on his
errand.

 

           
Jim
did not have to go far.
 
The person
sought just barged through the hospital entrance doors his shirt wrinkled and
torn, a split lip and swollen eye, evidence he survived quite an ordeal.
 
Together they returned to Sam's room.

 

           
Ralph’s
breath caught as he gaped at Sam.
 
His
heart leaped from his chest.
 
His flat,
dark eyes became bird bright.
 
Wasting no
time, he rushed into the arms reaching out for him.
 
Clinging to one another, they wept, the time
quietly dangling suddenly stopping at the barest sound, “Brad,” a murmured name
resounding off the walls and etching a look of horror on Sarah and Jim's face.

 

           
Knowing
keeping Ted and Brad away from the others throat would be like asking the hawk
and eagle not to fight, Ralph had to try.
 
Holding Sam at arms-length, eyes turning frantic, he confessed, “Brad's
gone, Sam.
 
He went after Ted.
 
You have to help me find him.
 
He's convinced Ted did this to you.”

 

           
Terror
snapped Sam's eyes open wide.
 
Her hands
gripped his shirt at the shoulders.
 
Shaking her head made limp dull hair swirl around her as words croaked
out,
 
Oh, no,
 
God, no!
 
He will kill him.
 
You have to
stop him.
 
There is a lot he does not
know.
 
Ted told me everything.
 
He loves Brad so.”

“I can't until I know where they
are.
 
There's not much time.”
 

 

           
The
look of contempt in Sam's eyes colored by fear turned hostile.
 
Like a merry-go-round, thoughts spun in her
head whipping memories until they stampeded over her newfound elation.
 
“It . . . it . . . wasn't Ted.”
   

Whisking her pager from her belt,
Franklin took giant steps forward.
 

 

 
 

CHAPTER
49

 

“JUNE, 2011”

 

           
Having
been aware of Ted and Stacy's affair, guilty feelings over her own betrayal
prevented Sam from making a scene.
 
The
dawn of enlightenment came one day when entering Ted's office unannounced to
discover Stacy in the act of buttoning her blouse.
 
Her shoes were scattered, the zipper to her
skirt undone, and hair riotously about her face. The betrayer was in his
private lavatory the only entrance through his office.
 
Spearing Stacy with flagrant effrontery, Sam
turned and left.
 
That day was the last
time she visited the office.
  
The blame
was hers, she concluded.
 

 

           
Since
Candy's visit to her boutique, Sam began refusing Ted’s advances and by doing
so built the wall between them higher and wider brick by brick.
  
Aware she had to confront him soon about his
child multiplied her worry.
 
It was
becoming impossible to conceal the growth swelling her stomach.
 
She made the decision long ago to leave Ted
should he continue cheating after the birth of their child, or refuse to be the
father she expected.
 

 

           
Several
weeks later, on the very day she entertained facing Ted, he surprised her by
arriving home early looking fretful, and tired.
 
Fully prepared to confront him, she managed to dredge up a smile to
appear relaxed.
  
For the first time in
weeks, he pulled her close and kissed her with a frightening intensity.
 
As if extracting strength for the storm
ahead, her arms encircled his waist.
 

 

           
Startled
by her reaction, Ted moved back, his hands gripping her shoulders.
        
At that moment, her gaze found an
unusual bulge in his coat pocket.
 
Reaching to examine it brought vice like fingers around her wrist, but
not before her senses made a conclusion.
 
Pinning him with a hard look, her voice quailing slightly, she
questioned, “What's going on, Ted?
 
Why
do you need a gun?
 
What has
happened?
 
Tell me.”

Flatly responding, “I can't.
 
Not right now at least.
 
You will not understand.
 
I have to leave for a while.”

Seizing panic induced a biting tone, “Leave!
 
You can't!
 
I need you to be with me.
 

 

There's something I have. . .”

 

An impressive steely coldness coated his voice,
“I'll explain later, I promise, Sam.
  
My
staying will place you in danger.”

 

Gripping the lapels of his coat, her
voice hysterical, “It's Stacy, isn't it?
 
You're taking her with you.”
 

 

           
Stunned
and mortified that Sam knew about his secret liaisons with Stacy stiffened
every muscle in his body.
 
Shaking her,
his limbs and speech lashed out in defense.
 
“Stop it.
 
Stop it, Sam.
 
It's not Stacy.
 
It’s never been Stacy.
 
Don't you see, for God's sake, I'm crazy
about you?
 
It has always been you; I
have never loved anyone else, never will again.
 
You have to believe me.
 
You have
to trust me just this once.
 
I know I
haven't earned it, but I have to do this, for you, for me, for . . . Brad.”

Jerking her shoulders from under his
biting grip, the motion insulting, her tone like a snap of leather, “Then I'll
go with you.
 
You can't leave me.
 
I won't let you.
 
Not now. “

 

           
He
looked down momentarily as she spoke, then flicked his eyes glinting with rage
back to hers reiterating wrathfully, “No!
 
You will be safer here.
 
Brad will
take care of you.
 
I've sent for him.”

 

           
Taking
a giant step backward her look became hard and brittle.
 
She neither trusted nor believed Ted.
 
Her scathing glance penetrated his like
needles boring into flesh.
 
The roaring
swelling in her head combined with exhaustion prevented rational thinking.
 
Before he left, she wanted answers to the
questions churning inside.
 

 

           
Like
a geyser, they erupted, “Why?
 
Why would
you allow Brad near me if he is everything you said he was?
 
If he did all those things, you said he
did.
 
How could you trust him?
 
How could you be his friend if he is the
monster you make him out to be?”
 
Her
face paled.
 
Her bottom lip quivered,
“Why did you allow him to leave?”
 
An
awful choking sensation blocked her vocal chords, her eyes filled with tears.

 

           
Filled
with a wretched need to calm her, hold her, love her, Ted moved closer. Her
back stiffened, her breathing increased as something dangerous, and unholy,
stirred blue into whirlpools halting him.
 
Like, a cloud masking the sun, irony tinged his eyes, his face turned
disarmingly calm.

 

           
It
pained Sam to see the transformation in his features or was it simply a long
time since she looked at him so closely.
 
He had lost weight and his skin seemed gray.
  
Something was terribly wrong, she sensed,
saw it and her skin tingled as if her whole being was slowly awakening from a
deep sleep.

 

           
In
rapt admiration, Ted looked at Sam, and then his gaze altered to the
carpet.
 
He had never seen her angry,
never heard her voice so harsh as if she were a lioness protecting her
cub.
 
Pondering what it would be like to
tame her, he wished for the strength and time to fulfill his desires.
 

 

           
Drawing
in a resigned breath, long and cleansing, he called upon his conviction that
for once he was doing the right thing to disperse the stamina required to
proceed.
 
With a tone full of warmth and
sincerity, a confession spilled forth.
 

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