Page 9 of Betrayed (Alternate Ending)

"Don't you touch me!"

Clark backed up a step, but continued his line of thought. “It was never supposed to happen, sweetheart. Of course I didn’t plan on you being taken.” He gritted his teeth and approached the subject he’d avoided so far. “Those bastards! I hate the thought of their hands on you.” He stopped as a frown passed over his face. “I suppose you fought them?”

“No, Clark. I just laid there and took everything they gave me. I smiled and asked for more. I enjoyed it.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. Brook sprang to her feet, overcome by bitterness. She felt as if she would vomit. "But what the hell does that have to do with anything? What if I hadn’t fought? What if I couldn’t? How can you even ask something like that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you don’t look injured to me. What am I supposed to think? Have you been with them this whole time? My god, Brook. Where were you?”

“With them? You think I spent this entire time, with them? God! No, I wasn’t with them the whole time. I would have been dead long ago.” Brook was astounded. "You want to hear it all?” Not waiting for a response, she spoke; hate overflowing for the men who had hurt her and for Clark. "I went to a bookstore to get a book for my loving husband. You remember him, don’t you? Well, seems as if he set me up. Sent me to the worse part of town to fend for myself. If I hadn’t gotten scared and returned to the car, where I was abducted by the car thief you hired, I might have been accosted by one of the men on the street.” Brook clenched her fists, remembering. “Yes, Clark, it was that bad where you sent me.”

Brook inhaled through her mouth and breathed out through her nose, trying to calm herself enough to continue the story. “So I got back into the car and before I could close the door, a man rammed a gun in my face, shoved me into the passenger seat, and took me away. I almost got away once, while still in town, but they quickly tackled me, brought me down in an alley, and loaded me into another car.”

Brook gave an ironic laugh. “Now it gets really good." Brook grabbed the copies of photos from her bag on the bar and shoved them at Clark. “Look at these.” Clark tried to push them aside but Brook was insistent. “Look at them, Clark. Look!”

He collapsed onto the sofa as he flipped through the pictures showing Brook’s damaged body. He wept. Carefully, he turned the pictures upside down and placed them on the cushion next to him.

Brook relentlessly continued her story. "After they raped and beat me, for three days mind you, I finally managed to escape. Naked, in the freezing cold, I stole one of their cars, and escaped. Or so I thought. But fate had more fun up her sleeve for me that night. A deer stepped in front of the car and I lost control. Just before the car went over a cliff, I dove into the muddy road. Then, I lost my footing and followed it down.”

“Brook. Stop! That’s enough. I understand now.” Clark was sobbing, hand over his face.

“Look at me, you coward. You haven’t heard it all yet.”

Clark turned his tear-streaked face in her direction as she went on. “So there I was. Already beaten and tortured by those three monsters, and now battered by a mountain. I'll spare you most the details of how I struggled through the forest, how I survived the first night of snow, and how my bare feet were bloody and torn by the rocks."

"Thank you, Brook. I really can't take anymore." He looked a little green, as if the details were making him squeamish. He'd never been able to handle blood and gore.

"Oh, I'm not through yet." Brook's face took on a look Clark couldn't understand. It softened. "Then, when I thought all was lost, I was rescued by a man. A good, kind man. He took care of me, cleaned me up, and kept me safe. He lives way up on a mountainside in the forest. I couldn’t get off the mountain until the snow melted.”

Clark jumped over the horrid details of Brook’s ordeal and clutched at these last words, as to a life-line in a raging river. “Well, whoever he is, I’d like to shake his hand. I’d like to thank him for helping you. I can hardly believe you're really here."

Brook was amazed. He didn’t listen. He didn’t listen. She gaped as he spoke on.

"But Brook, you need to take a minute to see my side of things. You have to realize this isn’t the way it was supposed to go down. I never wanted you to be hurt! The thought of it makes me…" Clark rubbed his hand over his face. He rose to his feet and began walking back and forth as he talked, as if trying to dispel his nervous energy “I swear, I almost lost my mind when you disappeared. It wasn’t as if I meant for you to be involved. I don't think you realize how hard this has been on me.” Clark reached for her hand, but Brook pulled away. He stared, hurt, then resumed pacing.

Brook started to speak, but Clark cut her off. “You just don’t understand. Maybe my need for money isn’t your fault. But, lord, Brook. You can’t imagine the thrill of setting up these deals. The money that flows from those rich bastards overseas… It’s like a drug. I imagine it is similar to shooting heroin. The rush! But it was supposed to be my private indulgence, my secret. I never intended to drag you into it or involve you in any way. Don't you see? I’m sorry you got hurt. I truly am. I would never hurt you, not for a million dollars.”

“No, Clark. Not for a million. You did it for a lot less.” The anger had suddenly drained out of her, leaving her exhausted and miserable. She gathered the images of her tortured body from where they lay, ignored now, beside Clark. The conversation illustrated how self-absorbed he was. Why hadn’t she seen it before? No comments on the life-shattering evidence she had shown him. No questions from him about her physical condition, the location where she had spent the last several months, or even about her abductors. He focused on nothing but his own interests, only superficially engaged beyond that. She should have been stunned by his self-centered responses, but somehow, she wasn't.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Brook got to her feet and picked up her things.

"Wait, you can't just walk away now. Brook!"

She paused at the staircase, considering his words. Without turning around, she sighed and continued up the stairs.

Brook entered the master 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 nightclothes. Entering the master bath, Brook gathered the clothes she’d shed after her shower and carried everything into the guest room. Locking the door behind her, she picked up the clothes she'd borrowed from Lance, folded them carefully, and ran her hands over them. She lifted the shirt to her face and inhaled. Lance's scent was fading from the fabric, and she was momentarily bereft.

She heard Clark knock on the bedroom door several times, but she ignored him. She wept into the armful of old clothes, her misery spilling out in hot tears.

Later, in bed, she hugged her pillow and longed for 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 55

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 56

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