Dawned (Circle of the Red Scorpion Book 3) Page 8
After the town hall meeting, Broderick and Elise were bombarded by the news media and whenever they made a public appearance. He was used to over-zealous reporters; she was not. Even with all of her notoriety in the art world, it never got so invasive. She voiced her concerns to her husband, and he agreed she did not need to participate in any future campaign activities.
Elise returned to her busy schedule while Broderick worked tirelessly on the campaign. He didn’t blame her for opting out. The news media was relentless when there was a controversial story hitting the airwaves. Everyone wanted their piece of it.
Broderick never expected to win the election. He was too junior, and Stan had the financial backing of many affluent friends like Blackwell. Stan spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on TV commercials and billboards. Broderick went more grassroots, electing to focus on the people, not big business. He surprised everyone by beating Stan in a very close race.
After the election, Stan Crenshaw mysteriously disappeared and was never seen again. It was rumored he bought a vacation house in Vancouver, British Columbia where he planned to spend his retirement. He never returned his Windermere Road estate. It was closed up and eventually sold. It was hard to believe he’d abandoned such an exclusive property to live in Vancouver. Broderick speculated Stan was dead, and it was another crime that would never be solved. He believed Solomon eliminated Stan because he was no longer useful to Blackwell and therefore was a liability. He knew too much.
Broderick wanted to re-open the unsolved cases once he became District Attorney, but both the mayor and the police chief thought it was a waste of taxpayers’ money. Again, he followed the sparse leads in the off hours, often working late into the night. But with most of the evidence and witnesses gone, and with no backing from local government or law enforcement, he couldn’t gather enough proof to charge Blackwell or his men with a single crime. Hell, he would have arrested them for jaywalking if he could have pulled it off. One thing was clear - Solomon Blackwell and his men were untouchable, but he refused to let it go.
After another fruitless day at work, all he wanted to do was go home and spend time with his wife, but she wasn't there. She was in Portland at an art exhibition. He should have gone with her instead of wasting another day chasing dead-end leads. He should have been at her side supporting her. Was his pursuit of Blackwell more important than her? After she asked him to attend her art shows over the years and he always had a ready excuse why he couldn’t go, she stopped asking him. He didn't blame her. It was his fault they were living separate lives.
After eating alone, Broderick took to the forest on his estate and released his jaguar. The jaguar felt his frustration and reacted accordingly, running through the woods at a breakneck speed, stopping only to eat his prey before resumed his mad pace through the forest. He returned home thoroughly exhausted, took a quick shower and went straight to bed.
Staring at the ceiling, he thought about his wife and the distance between them. She seemed to accept their separate lives as status quo. He knew he was partly to blame for that but there was something else going on with her, but he had no clue what it was. It wasn't anything that she said; it was what she didn't say. She never refused him when he wanted to make love, but it was obvious her heart wasn't always in it. There were times when she returned from one of her exhibitions, that she was desperate for him to hold her, to touch her, to be inside her, to love her. He welcomed her ardor and relished those hot intimate nights, wishing every night was like that. Then without warning, she would be distant again. He was perplexed and knew he should take some time off to be with her, to figure out what was going on, but he couldn't let his crusade against Blackwell go.
One Saturday morning, Broderick woke up before his wife and went downstairs to have breakfast. Elise hadn't come home from Seattle until the wee hours of the morning, and so he let her sleep in. He was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper when she appeared, fresh from the shower wearing her red satin robe. He could smell her lavender body-wash. She sat down to the right of him and picked up a piece of buttered toast.
He glanced up from the newspaper. "Good morning, angel," he said brightly. "Did you sleep well?"
She bit the toast and chewed it slowly. "Yes, I slept fine."
He stared at her for a moment and frowned. She looked fatigued. There were dark circles under her eyes. "Are you all right? You don't look well."
She looked away from him. "Just tired. It was a long night."
"Where was the exhibit held?"
"A new art studio downtown. It was their grand opening, and there were some serious art collectors in attendance. It was an excellent opportunity to network."
"It must have been open late. I tried to wait up for you, but I couldn't stay awake."
She set the toast on the plate in front of her and poured a glass of orange juice. "The gallery closed at nine. One of the patrons held an after-party at his mansion to continue the celebration, and I went along."
"Whose mansion? Anyone, I know?" He flipped the newspaper to the society section and froze. Elise and Solomon were posing for the photo. The caption underneath read ‘Seattle’s New Power Couple.’ He turned the newspaper to show her. “What is this shit, Elise? Why are you standing beside Solomon Blackwell? Was it his party you went to last night?”
“Yes, the party was at his mansion.”
Broderick crushed the newspaper in his fist and threw it on the table. “Goddamnit, Elise, what were you thinking? He’s a very dangerous man.”
“Broderick… I,” she stammered.
His voice was low and menacing, and he knew it but he could not tap down the rage he was feeling. He saw her eyes widen in shock. He didn't mean to frighten her, but that was the last name he expected her to say.
“Why were you with him?”
“He's one of my patrons."
"For how long?" he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.
"How long? What do you mean?"
"How long has he been one of your patrons?" he gritted out; his eyes were flashing with anger. His hands clenched the table so tight; his knuckles turned white.
Elise flinched and pushed her chair back, trying to put distance between them. She hadn't expected such a violent reaction. Her husband was always so calm. She'd never seen him like this. She had been dreading this conversation with him for a very long time.
How long did she think she could keep the truth from him? Sooner or later, he would see a picture of them on the society page of the newspaper. Solomon attended every one of her exhibitions, even the ones out of town. If Broderick only knew how far their relationship had progressed - that she and Solomon were lovers for almost three years, her husband would confront him, and bad things would happen. Likely someone would end up dead. Solomon was a very dangerous man. She didn't know what kind of businesses he ran, but she knew some of them were shady if not illegal. She guessed that by the people he entertained when she was at his mansion, and she was there quite often. He hated her husband and made no bones about it. He'd given her little choice but to continue seeing him even though she tried to terminate their affair many times. He threatened to kill her husband if she left him, and she would do anything to keep him safe. No matter what it cost her.
"For nearly three years. I met Solomon at one of my art exhibitions. He came with Garth Powers. Garth owns a men’s clothing store in downtown Seattle. He introduced us. Solomon liked my paintings at the exhibition and bought one I had on display. He’s purchased several more since then."
He bristled with renewed rage. Three years. That was just after Stan's little orgy at his mansion. Blackwell didn't wait long to seek out his wife. The fucking bastard. "Has he ever touched you?"
"No," she said quickly. "Never. Solomon has always been a gentleman." She swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat and her heartbeat quickened. She hated to lie to her husband, but she had no choice. It was the only way to keep her husband safe.
He didn't mean to scare her but hearing Blackwell was a regular fixture in Elise’s world was a shock. She was happy and thriving under the spotlight of her artistry, and he didn't want to crush the dreams he encouraged her to pursue. But in reality, he wanted to lock her away like Rapunzel so Solomon Blackwell could never get near her but that was impossible. He couldn’t imprison her. Isn’t that what her father did?
"If Blackwell ever touches you, you must tell me. Please, angel," he quietly capitulated.
"I will," she replied weakly. "If he does, I'll tell you." She was so sick inside as she lied to the man she loved. God, he'd hate her if he knew the truth. She stood up. "I have to touch up one of the paintings I'm showing on Wednesday. I'll be in the studio for a few hours."
"All right, I have some phone calls to make. We'll go out for lunch when you're done."
"Sounds wonderful." She smiled bravely as she nearly ran from the room when all she wanted to do was tell him the truth. To plead with him to help her out of the trap she was in but to do so would lead to his death. There was no doubt in her mind Solomon would kill her husband and not think twice about it.
Broderick watched his wife leave the dining room and frowned. She was not honest with him. There was more going on with Blackwell than she was telling him. He could feel it. His jaguar was pacing back and forth causing his anxiety to increase. He needed to go after her, get her to open up. They had to get back on track. She said nothing happened between them and he desperately wanted to believe her. He knew Blackwell’s reputation with women and the thought of him being intimate with his wife was something he didn't want to contemplate. She was his mate, his other half. The only woman he would ever love. He had to get past this and trust her. He wanted to make things right. But even as he started down the hall to her studio, he knew that photo of them together would haunt him.
Elise was in a panic. When she was sure she was out of her husband’s sight, she ran down the hall, not bothering to change. She reached the door of her studio, wrenched it open and stumbled inside. She didn’t bother to close the door. She slumped down on the upholstered bench in front of the bay window.
For three years, she’d kept her affair with Solomon secret. It was never what she wanted. From the very beginning, he tricked her into thinking he was her friend and took advantage of her when she was the most vulnerable.
Four months before she met Solomon, she found out she was pregnant. She never told Broderick. She didn’t want to get his hopes up. In the third month of her pregnancy, she miscarried. She went to a little clinic in Seattle and a doctor performed a D and C. After the procedure, she went home to recover.
Broderick was out of town on business for two days, then back to Seattle for a lengthy trial immediately afterward. He was still an ADA at the time and had a heavy caseload. She was left on her own for over two weeks, and she was grateful. She didn’t want to be around anyone. Mrs. Sims thought she had the flu and left her alone, only coming into her room to bring her meals and check on her.
Elise had an exhibition in Seattle a week later. She was so despondent over losing the baby; she almost canceled the exhibition at the last minute but decided to go through with it. She thought it would help if she were busy and around some of her colleagues. That was the night she met Solomon.
She was standing in front of the self-portrait she painted for her husband as a birthday gift. She included it in the exhibition because she was going to ask him to attend the gala and present it to him. But when she asked him to come with her before the miscarriage, he told her he would be caught up in a high-profile trial and wouldn’t be able to attend. He made a sincere apology and told her he would attend her next exhibition. Looking back, perhaps it was better that Broderick wasn’t there. Frankly, she didn’t know if she would have been ready to face him especially with the loss of their child still haunting her.
The painting represented so much – it was the place where she first met Broderick. It was the sketch she had slipped into his jacket pocket the day before he left Snoqualmie. The crippling pain she had endured over the last two weeks after the miscarriage was overwhelming. It was the pain of losing their child and the tribal curse she was convinced hung over her head like a dark, angry cloud and the pain of her husband always putting his career before hers. It all was too much. It was then, in her darkest moment, Solomon entered her life.
She met him briefly at the exhibition, and he later arranged a meeting with her through Garth Powers to discuss the purchase of one of her paintings. A week and a half later, Elise had dinner with Solomon in a restaurant at Pike’s Market. Solomon was attentive and charming. He seemed genuinely concerned about her, and at the time, she needed someone to care.
Solomon agreed to buy the waterfall painting and invited her to his mansion the following evening to assist him hanging the painting and to attend a dinner with close friends and associates. She agreed. She had a wonderful time at the party. There were many of her art colleagues in attendance, and she felt comfortable. After the guests started leaving, he asked her to stay a little longer. She had been drinking champagne all evening and was feeling a little giddy. When Solomon initially came on to her, she refused him, but she soon succumbed. He was a welcome outlet for the hell she’d been living for the last few weeks. She wanted to feel something other than pain.
The next morning when she tried to leave, she saw another side of Solomon, a darker side that frightened her. Solomon threatened to kill her husband if she didn’t stay with him. The dangerous look in his dark eyes made it clear he was serious. From that moment, she was Solomon’s reluctant lover, giving him her body whenever he wished. Each time he took her, she died a little bit more inside. When would it end and how soon before Broderick discovered the sordid, ugly truth?
Sick at heart and riddled with guilt, Elise curled into a ball and cried. She cried for the child she lost, cried for her fragile marriage, cried for the deceit and the bottomless pit of despair she felt every day for a situation she had no way to escape.
Chapter 9
The door to her art studio was ajar. Broderick heard his wife crying. He gently pushed the door open to find her on the upholstered seat beneath the bay window, her arms wrapped around her. The tears flowed non-stop down her face as she sobbed softly.
He was at her side in two long strides. Her sobs increased when she felt him sit down beside her. She turned away and buried her face in her hands.
Broderick felt deep remorse. His wife was crying because of him; because of his abrupt, irate outburst. He should direct his fury toward Blackwell, not her. He pulled her against his broad chest and stroked her wet hair. She whimpered and grabbed onto him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she buried her face against him.
"I'm sorry, angel, I didn't mean to be so cruel. Solomon Blackwell is a depraved sociopath. Violence and death follow him. Being around him puts you in danger, and I don't want you to be harmed. I love you so much. If anything ever happened to you, I don't know if I could live through it."
"I love you too," she sniffed as her sobs subsided. "I didn't mean to make you angry."
He kissed her eyes and tasted the salty tears that clung to her thick dark lashes. "I’m not angry at you. I want you to be safe and happy. That's all."
She blinked her moist emerald eyes and smiled at him. "You have always been my caped crusader. My very own Superman. I know you will always protect me."
"I'm not here with you as much as I should be and I’m sorry about that.
"
"I don’t expect you to be here all the time. You have an important job to do."
"I do, but you are more important to me. I will hire you a bodyguard to be with you when I’m not there."
She shook her head vehemently. "No bodyguard, Broderick. I already have a driver. I'm always with other people. I'm never alone." She couldn’t tell him she dismissed the driver once she arrived at her destination. Solomon took care of her transportation home after that, and she had Solomon's men trailing behind the two of them when they were out in public. But that wasn’t the issue. Her husband was trying to protect her from Solomon, and she loved him for it. But the sad truth was she was protecting Broderick from him, and she could never tell him that. A bodyguard hired by her husband was definitely out of the question.
Elise shifted until she was straddling him on the upholstered cushion, feeling him against her naked sex.
Broderick groaned. “You are trying to distract me,” he murmured as he rubbed her against his already growing erection. "God, you feel so good."
She gave him an impish smile. “Is it working?” She leaned in to kiss him, and her breasts come into contact with his chest. Her nipples hardened through the thin material of her robe.
Elise was gloriously naked under the robe and for the moment, he forgot all about Solomon Blackwell. He felt the hard tips of her breasts teasing his chest and her heat through his gym pants. He slid his hands under the robe, sliding them over her round ass and squeezed. “Angel, what you do to me,” he said in a soft whiskey voice. “I want you.”
"It would be so much better if you took off that tee shirt and gym pants," she crooned, pulling off the sash of her satin robe. “I want to see all of you.”