The Forgotten Child

Chapter 36, The Forgotten Child

Chapter Thirty-Six

She couldn't believe his high handedness. What a bully. She should scream and call for help. When she glanced up, she was unprepared for his rock solid caveman routine. He was going to pick her up and toss her in. So, she wrenched her arm away, threw him a furious gaze, and stepped back. "No."

"Get in now or I swear I will physically put you in and really give these people an eye full. I don't know what the hell's going on, but you're going to tell me. But not here!" A few people stopped in front of the truck.

An old lady hobbled over with a cane. "Brad, dear, maybe you should let the lady go."

Emily went to step away but he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I can't do that, you see, she just received some unsettling news and hasn't been acting rationally, so I need to make sure she gets home before she does or says anything that can't be undone."

"Oh, I see." The white haired lady waved as she wandered away.

Emily gaped; she wanted to yell after the woman. Tell her it was Brad who was a liar, a cheat; the devil himself. But she narrowed her eyes and climbed in, smacking his hand away when he touched her arm. The door slammed shut as soon as she cleared it.

He strode around to the driver's side, wrenched it open and climbed in. He slammed the door, gunned the engine and threw it in reverse before backing out of the parking space. He didn't say a word as he drove straight to her house, pulled up in front and turned off the engine. "Katy home?" There was no kindness in his tone.

"No." She kept her reply aloof, not willing to give anything.

He came around to her side and yanked the door open. Brad pulled her out of the truck, holding her arm, and slammed the door behind her. "Let's go."

He led her up the walkway, the concrete steps and to the front door. She unlocked the door; he opened it and closed it behind them. Emily dropped her purse on the sofa and continued into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulders. He stalked behind her like a wild animal. She needed to busy herself so she plugged in the kettle. When she turned, he was right there. So she turned around and reached for a mug in the cupboard and grabbed the box of tea. "Just leave it, Em. Turn around and look at me."

Oh good, he was as angry as she. Maybe it was better this way. Lay their cards on the table, make him look her in the eye while he explained why he'd had her fired. What kind of spin would he put on their vacation? She couldn't wait.

"Okay, Brad, how could you tell Jake to fire me? I still haven't found another job. I go in to apply, but no one will hire me." She had to fight to control the tears, all the built up humiliation of the past few weeks. She knew she wasn't being paranoid; had he called around and asked people not to hire her? She couldn't keep her vision from blurring any more when the first tear spilled over. She couldn't see much, but she leaned back and covered her mouth as soon as she saw Brad's look of horror and confusion. He grabbed her arm, but this time it was filled with gentle concern, and he led her to the table.

"Sit down, Em. Please." A chair scraped out. Brad sat so close his legs were spread and all but surrounding hers. "What the hell are you talking about? Why were you fired and when?"

"I was fired two weeks ago, right after you were here. Jake told me it was you who said to get rid of me. You even threatened to pull your account if he didn't." Her face burned when she relived that embarrassing, hostile meeting. Emily jumped when Brad's fist slammed the table, followed by explicit, quite descriptive, foul curses. She'd heard him swear before, but not with this much venom.

Maybe he saw the way she pulled back, because he stopped and took her hands in his. "Em, I never told Jake to fire you. I'd never do anything like that. Not to you. Why didn't you call me?"

This time bile circled her stomach making her dizzy. She touched her forehead, and shut her eyes for a second. "Brad, I did call. Crystal answered and I left a message for you to call me." She allowed her hand to fall into her lap. "That was when she told me you were getting ready to leave on a vacation together."

Brad leaped up. His chair hit the ground and he paced the tiny kitchen like a caged animal, back and forth, clenching his fists, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes narrowed as he approached her. He watched her closely, for just a minute, and then leaned closer; maybe to see if she was telling the truth.

"That bitch never gave me any message. I did not go on any vacation with her, nor would I. And I never had you fired." It was amazing how low and even, in control, his voice became when he was angry, so much so Emily feared he might hurt someone. "Why didn't you call my cell phone, Em?"

 Why didn't she call his cell phone? She should've, but after she'd waited, positive she'd been played, she didn't want to talk to him. "I thought you'd played me and I didn't want to talk to you."

Brad picked up the overturned chair. He sat again, sighing as he ran his hands over his face. "Em, listen to me. I don't know what the hell's going on, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea that Crystal's pulled some backhanded shit here. It's got her name written all over it."

He touched her head. "I'm going down to straighten out Jake. I'll be back, and, just so you know, I want you, Em. As soon as I get this shit with Crystal straightened out, I'm coming for you. In the meantime, don't you worry about finding another job."

She didn't know how to respond. This roller coaster ride she'd been on since she met him, she wanted it to stop. But she also worried what he'd do.

"Brad, wait. If Crystal was responsible, you need to be smart about this. Don't leave here angry. Please, think about it."

He walked into her space, his arms went around her, protective and secure. His voice was gruff. "Don't worry, Em; I'll hold it together." He kissed the top of her head and smoothed back her hair with his hands.

She forced her hands up and planted them on his chest. She pushed and stepped out of his arms. "I can't do this emotional roller coaster anymore. You'll leave here; I won't see you for days—weeks. And you expect me to just sit and wait like a good little girl. I can't—won't do it anymore. No matter what Crystal did; you still hurt me. You should have called. You made love to me all night. And when I didn't hear from you, it was the same as saying it meant nothing; just another feather in your cap. I'm not made that way. I care deeply and you hurt me. So when you go out that door, to fix whatever it is you need to fix, thinking I'll be waiting for you when you're ready for me—guess again. I won't be." She wouldn't look at him. She wouldn't let him touch her as she walked around him to the sink. She gave him her back. She waited, for what she didn't know. But her heart couldn't take anymore hurt.

Apparently he wasn't done, instead of leaving, he moved behind her. He touched her back, slid his arm around her waist. "I won't let you go. And you're right. It was my fault. I will be back. Will you still be here?"

"Go take care of what you need to." She patted his hand.

He pulled away. His heavy footsteps never broke stride as he walked out the door. And Emily never moved as she listened to his truck, the purr of the engine and spew of gravel as he drove away.

The kettle whistled, only Emily no longer needed the distraction. She pulled the plug, and sat, feeling like a woman who'd aged thirty years overnight. She was sickened by this seesaw of guilt and innocence, and the awareness that she'd been thrust into the middle of a playing field, with no rules to follow; winner takes all.