Page 59 of Restless
As the service resumed and his ordination and installation drew closer, Sharper smiled and led her back to the two red and gold chairs.
“The house is in my name, Sharper,” she said the moment they sat. “It was my mother’s. I’ve drawn up a will. If anything happens to me, I’ve bequeathed it to my favorite charity. When Lucas and the new baby reach their majority, that’ll change.”
“Bitch,” he said, low.
“Perhaps, but I’m the bitch laying the golden egg. As long as I stay alive, you live like a king.”
Act Two –Revenge – Patricia
Love was the most egregious of tragedies; even the truest never ended well. Love was blatant in its joys and sorrows, but a sneak in its inevitable outcome. Love could only end in one way—broken. Whether by death or detriment, loveneverlasted. Grief wasalwaysthe consequence of love.
Lovewas like karma. And karma was a low-down, vindictive bitch that swooped in to wreak havoc at the most inopportune time.
Christmas, of all times, when Patricia Donovan Caldwell had to watch her daddy’s vile treatment of her boy and his adoration of her nephew. It was a terrible sin to harm a little baby, so when she masterminded the plan to take care of Tess, she believed she removed her competition. She thought she’d regained Daddy’s approval since he greenlit Patricia’s idea and gave Simon the go ahead to implement the plot.
Towards the end, her sister developed pneumonia thanks to her weakened immune system from her days of little or no food. Delivering John, and a minute dose of cyanide, took care of the rest.
Patricia wouldn’t ever have to worry about her husband taking her little sister to his bed again. It didn’t matter that Tess hadn’t wanted him and he’d forced his way there. Cee Cee was supposed to bePatricia’sway out. Bad enough she had to compete with the club whores.
A high-pitched scream jerked her to attention. Straightening, she rubbed a hand over her rounded belly and made her way back inside. She adjusted the jacket sitting casually on her shoulders, her pumps clopping on the wooden floor.
The farmhouse she’d grown up in was unrecognizable. Cee Cee had kept his promise and paid for its renovation from the ground up. Not that Patricia cared much since he’d moved across the country. He called her occasionally, though, once a week, he spoke to the man he’d sent as her protector.
The more time passed without Cee Cee coming to claim her and Christopher, the angrier she grew. She’d called him when she went into labor to protect their son.Leavingdid nothing but give Daddy’s abuse free rein.
Somewhere inside of Patricia, she’d held a small hope that her father would grow to love her son once they spent time together.
That hadn’t happened.
“Dirty, little idiot!”
She jumped at her father’s roar, pressed her hand harder on her belly. The baby kicked.
“No, Grandda!” Christopher wailed.
Patricia swallowed.
“It’sgranddaddy, filthy beast.”
“Mommie…No! No! No!”
Her son screamed; Patricia’s lips trembled. She wanted to rush into the living room, decorated with garland, holly berries, and mistletoe. Presents surrounded the tree, gifts for everyone except her son. He would be three years old in a few days, cognizant enough to feel left out.
Another loud thud reached her, like a body hitting the floor. Patricia flinched.
Cee Cee shouldn’t have left them. She was his wife, Christopher his son. Many times, Cee Cee was cruel in bed—and out, for that matter. But she preferred him over her father, yet Cee Ceerefusedto adhere to her wishes.
Maybe, she was selfish for subjecting her son to Logan’s whims. Daddy would never like Christopher, especially with John alive. Her father acted like a fool over that little chubby blond ball.
Daddy continued to yell; Christopher still screamed in agony.
A tear slipped down Patricia’s cheek.
Cee Cee should’ve been with them.
It wasn’therfault that Daddy demanded she bring her family over for the holidays. Refusal was more dangerous than capitulation. If Cee Cee had stayed, she wouldn’t have to subject her kids and her man to her father. Daddy wouldn’t force her cooperation.
This was all Cee Cee’s fault. And John’s.
