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This story picks up where “Fault
Line” left
off. Jim is in the hospital awaiting a visit from Amanda’s grieving parents.
What do they want to talk about? If you missed it, this story
has a prequel in the Portraits of the Past Universe. It isn’t necessary to
read that story in order to know what’s going on here, but if you skip it,
you’ll miss out on a cute Trixie-and-Jim-centric behind-the-scenes story.
You
called me strong, you called me weak, If I go
crazy then will you still Back at St. Vincent’s
Hospital… The
mood in the private hospital room was somber as Jim, his parents, and Al
waited for the Woodwards’ arrival. It was a reunion that none of them were
anticipating, particularly Jim. Before the tragedy that had unfolded early
that morning, seeing Natasha and Carlton at various social events had been
uncomfortable; seeing them so soon after Amanda’s murder would be pure
misery. Jim had felt guilty about the breakup, but that remorse couldn’t
compare to the recrimination he felt now. Although he hadn’t committed the
crime, he considered himself as culpable for Amanda’s death as the person who
had pulled the trigger, and that weighed heavily upon the honorable redhead. It
didn’t take long for the couple to arrive at the hospital, so thankfully Jim
didn’t have to wallow long in his self-loathing. At first glance, Amanda’s
parents looked as refined during this time of mourning as they did while
attending a social affair. Regardless of the circumstances, the pair had a
natural elegance about them, even when they were grieving the loss of their
only child. However, upon further inspection, one could easily see that
neither of them was as put together as initially thought. A cloud of sorrow
swathed them both, and it was clear that their hearts were breaking. Natasha’s
oversized designer sunglasses couldn’t cover the evidence of her grief. Her
flawless complexion was red and splotchy, and her hair, usually perfectly
coiffed, was slightly disheveled, and even more telling, she didn’t appear to
care. She hadn’t lost weight since their last meeting, yet although it defied
medical logic, her shriveled spirit seemed to have shrunk her frame. The
exquisite winter white Escada wool suit she wore,
which probably cost more than some secondhand cars, seemed too large for her.
Grief had swallowed her up. Carlton, a man
that many speculated had New York’s finest plastic surgeon on speed dial,
hadn’t noticeably aged for the past decade; today, however, he looked at
least fifteen years older than he had the last time Jim had seen him. It was
a sober reminder that death was a respecter of no man. From the homeless man on
the street to the billionaire on Park Avenue, mortality was the barest wisp
of thread in the fabric of humanity. It didn’t take much to break that
thread, as the Woodward family had learned that morning. The sudden and
unexpected murder of his beloved daughter had taken an immediate toll on
Carlton. The youthful glow he tried so hard to maintain had disappeared with
one pull of a trigger. As
soon as she saw her friends, Madeleine’s hazel eyes misted over. Just as
tenderhearted as her daughter, she gracefully rose from her chair and
embraced Natasha. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “So very, very sorry.” Natasha
rarely showed emotion in public, which made her tears even more
disconcerting. Overcome by the aching in her heart, she couldn’t do anything
but cry and bury her face in her friend’s shoulder. Her sobs were so powerful
that they shook her entire body and nearly rattled Madeleine’s teeth. Close
to tears himself, Matthew cleared his throat. “Carlton, if you need anything,
please let us know. We’re all so very sorry for your
loss. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you both.” Carlton
was the sort of man that believed an outward show of one’s psychological
state was a sign of weakness, so usually he was even
more stoic than his wife. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t
hide the fact that he’d been shaken to his very core. In spite of all his
wealth and power, he hadn’t been able to protect the most valuable treasure
of all, and in addition to his grief, he felt an overwhelming sense of
helplessness. For the powerful business magnate, that was perhaps the worst
feeling of all. Carlton had absolutely no control over this situation
whatsoever, and it left him visibly rattled.
He could control his business, his employees, and, for the most part,
his wife; however, he couldn’t do anything but stand off to the side and
watch as death marched in its morose parade.
His chin trembled as he struggled to compose himself. “We appreciate
that, Matthew,” he acknowledged, his thick with emotion. “It’s been…a
difficult day, to say the least. I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet. I’m
sure there are even darker days ahead once the finality hits us.” Tears
streaming down his cheeks, Jim watched the exchange between his and Amanda’s
parents. Guilt gnawed at his heart, but the words to express his remorse
escaped him. Deep down, he knew there was nothing he could say or do to atone
for his perceived misdeeds, and he would have to live with that forever. “Carlton…Natasha…”
he barely managed, “I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. Amanda and
I may have broken up, but I still cared about her very much. She was a
lovely, talented, generous person and will be sorely missed.” Neither Carlton nor Natasha spoke, and their silence
unnerved the rest of the room’s occupants. Jim interpreted their lack of
conversation as an admission of their anger towards him, and that only made
his self-condemnation worse. “I
know you probably hate me right now, and I can’t say that I blame you,” he
continued, his voice choked to a gasp. “No matter how many times I apologize,
I won’t ever be able to make things right. If I could take Amanda’s place, I
would. I swear to God I would, but I can’t, and I’m so sorry. So, so sorry…” Much
to everyone’s surprise, Natasha broke free of Madeleine’s embrace, crossed
the room, and wrapped her arms around her daughter’s former fiancé. “Oh,
Jim,” she soothed through her own tears, “I know you’re hurting, too. Carlton
and I don’t blame you, dear.” Amanda’s
father stood on the opposite side of Jim. “No, of course we don’t,” he
assured, placing a firm hand on Jim’s shoulder. “I never doubted that you
loved my little girl. I always held out hope that you two would work out your
differences and get back together. I never quit believing that you would be
my son-in-law someday. You’re a fine young man, exactly the sort of husband I
always wanted my Mandy to have.” It
was Jim’s turn to play the quiet game. Unable to agree with what Carlton had
said, he lowered his gaze guiltily. He had no intention of pouring salt into
the wound by informing them that, even if Amanda had lived, they never
would’ve reconciled. His future was with Trixie, and he didn’t want any part
of a future that didn’t include her. Nothing could ever change that. Although
he wasn’t Jim’s biological father, Matthew knew his son as well as he knew
himself; therefore, he easily detected Jim’s discomfort. He immediately
changed the subject. “Carlton
and Natasha, Wheeler Enterprises would like to start some kind of foundation
in Amanda’s memory,” he told them. “I thought a lot of your daughter, and
this would just be a small way to express what she meant to our family.” “That’s
a wonderful idea,” Madeleine said. “What did you have in mind?” “Since she was
a fellow Harvard graduate, I was thinking about creating a liberal arts
scholarship in her honor,” Matthew explained. “Or perhaps you and Natasha
would prefer a building named after her—” “That’s
very generous of you, Matt,” Carlton interrupted. “I know I speak for Natasha
when I say that we appreciate that gesture. Perhaps we can discuss it further
at a later time.” Matthew
nodded his head. “Of course.” “However,
there is another way your family
can help us honor Amanda,” Carlton announced. “That’s why we’re here. We
wanted to discuss this matter with you before we’re constantly bombarded by
reporters. They’ve been pestering Natasha and me, and I’m sure it’s only a
matter of time before your family’s hit with a barrage of questions. As a
matter of fact, when we came in, I saw several members of the press
downstairs in the lobby.” Al,
seated in the corner of Jim’s hospital room, wasn’t accustomed to going
unnoticed. His intimidating appearance tended to make him stand out in a
crowd. However, this was one of those rare occasions when he remained unseen.
Wiser than many suspected, he understood that the Woodwards wouldn’t want a
perfect stranger to be privy to their conversation. He cleared his throat to
let them know that he was there. Startled by the
unexpected noise, Carlton and Natasha turned to see who had made it. As
expected, the Woodwards literally jumped in surprise at the sight of the
large, scruffy man dressed in leather and well-worn denim. Both of their
expressions immediately went from bewilderment to abhorrence as they took in
his rough appearance. Bearded like the lead singer for ZZ Top and covered in
tattoos, this wasn’t the kind of visitor one expected a man of Jim’s station
to have. “Carlton,
Natasha,” Matthew began, “this is Al Spurgeon. He’s…a friend of Jim’s.” “Um,
nice to meetcha,” Al told them. “I’m real sorry for
your loss.” “Thank
you,” Carlton mumbled. Madeleine,
sensitive to the moods of others like her daughter, picked up on the
Woodwards’ discomfort. “Al, I don’t know about you, but I would love a
cappuccino or a cup of tea,” she said. “Since the press is hanging around the
lobby like a bunch of ravenous wolves, I was hoping you might escort me down
to the coffee shop.” Al
got Matthew’s attention before tipping his head in Jim’s direction. The
bodyguard’s steely gaze finally settled on his boss, his bushy eyebrows
meeting in the deep groove above the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know them newshawks need a scoop like mezzofinooks
need their Liza Minnelli CD’s, but you sure ‘bout that? I mean, I don’t want
no one gettin’ gashouse with Mrs. W, an’ buh-lieve you me, if any of them stungatzes
lay a finger on her, I’ll be happy to give ‘em some
chin music, but I don’t wanna just dust out on Mr.
Jim.” “Go
ahead and take a break, Al; we’ll be fine,” Matthew told him. “Yeah,
Al, you’ve been here for hours, and you’re overdue for a break,” Jim added.
“Besides, I don’t want Mother going downstairs by herself, so I’d really
appreciate it if you’d watch out for her.” Appearing
somewhat reluctant, Al rose from the chair. “Okay, boss, but give me a buzz
on my blower ASAP if you see anything fuhgazi goin’ on. Savvy?” “I
will,” Jim promised. Sensing
Al’s hesitance to leave his post, Madeleine hooked her arm through his
elbow. She almost chuckled aloud at
the unabashed repulsion on Natasha’s face. “Come along, Al. Perhaps we can
stop in the hospital gift shop and see if they have any magazines that might
interest Jim.” Terrified
at the prospect of wandering around the hospital alone with Madeleine
Wheeler, Al shot a look at Jim that could only be translated as a desperate
plea for help. Unfortunately for him, before anyone could come to his rescue,
Madeleine led him out the door and beyond their reach. Although
the Woodwards were clearly curious who Al was and why he had been in Jim’s
hospital room, neither Matthew nor Jim had any intention of telling them. To
prevent anyone from eavesdropping on their conversation, Matthew closed the
door and locked it to keep out any well-meaning nurses. Bracing himself for
this mysterious request, he reclaimed his seat at the foot of Jim’s bed. He
motioned to the two chairs where Madeleine and Al had been sitting. Carlton
and Natasha sat down, scooting their seats closer to Jim’s bed in order to
create a more intimate setting. “Jim,
I really appreciate you allowing us to visit you,” Carlton began, his voice
husky. “It may sound strange, but seeing you brings Natasha and me comfort
during this difficult time. In spite of how your relationship with Amanda
ended, you did enjoy some happy
times together.” “Yes,
we did,” Jim agreed, albeit with less enthusiasm than the Woodwards would’ve
liked. “Amanda loved you very much, and the
happiest days of her life were the ones she spent as your fiancée,” Carlton
continued. “She was so excited to become your wife. Before you broke up, all
she talked about was the wedding.” Carlton’s
words were the proverbial dagger in Jim’s heart. Overcome by feelings of
guilt, he merely nodded. “I
know we had previously agreed that you would make an official statement to
the press regarding your breakup in February,” Carlton went on. “However, in
light of today’s events, Natasha and I plead with you to reconsider.” “Reconsider?” Jim echoed. “What
exactly do you mean by that?” “We
were hoping that you might delay speaking with the media about your breakup,”
Carlton replied. Jim’s entire
body visibly tensed. “Are you asking me not to tell anyone that our
engagement was off?” It has been
said that God gave certain people red hair as a way to caution the world of
their temper. Unfortunately for Carlton, he hadn’t heeded the warning.
Matthew’s temper boiled over, and the redhead let loose a string of
expletives. “Wait just a
minute, Woodward!” he blustered, his face even more crimson than his hair.
“We had an agreement, and I expect you to stick to it. I know you’re
grieving, and our family is truly sorry for your loss, but it’s time for Jim
to come clean. My son needs to get on with his life!” “Unfortunately,
my daughter will never have the
opportunity to get on with hers,” Natasha pointed out in a quavering voice.
“The cold reality is that Amanda’s memory is all we have left of her, so
please pardon us for wanting to protect that.” “Forgive
me if this sounds uncaring, but frankly I can’t see how continuing with this
farce of an engagement would preserve Amanda’s memory,” Matthew stated
bluntly. “Of
course you wouldn’t, Matthew,” Natasha spat out, her entire body shaking from
bridled rage. “Now that our daughter’s dead, your son is footloose and
fancy-free and able to carry on with the rest of his life without ever giving
her a second thought. While Carlton and I are making funeral arrangements,
Jim can continue planning his wedding to that…that…detective girl!” “Leave
Trixie out of this,” Jim said through gritted teeth. Carlton
placed a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder. “What Natasha means is that
although you had moved on with your
personal life, Amanda hadn’t. Your rejection left her completely devastated.
She was so embarrassed by your breakup that she hadn’t told a single one of
her friends that the wedding was off. In fact, her sorority sisters were in
the process of planning a bridal shower for her.” “I’m
sorry,” Jim mumbled. Too ashamed to look Carlton in the eye, he stared down
at the ground. Although
Jim was falling prey to the guilt trip, Matthew wasn’t. The more of the
Woodwards’ sob story he heard, the angrier he grew. “What’s your point?” “My
point is that there’s no reason to dredge up all of that now that she’s gone;
it’s not as if you’d be in any danger of actually marrying her,” the grieving
father replied, nearly choking on the difficult words. He shifted his
attention on Jim, staring imploringly at the young man. “Please, I’m begging
you, son. None of her friends knew you’d split up. She kept up the ruse with
all of them, and none of them suspected a thing. If it comes out that it was
all a lie…They’ll all be laughing at her.” “Surely
Amanda’s friends will be more respectful than that,” Matthew remarked. Carlton
shook his head. “You don’t know them like I do.” The contemptuous snarl he
wore completely transformed his looks. His fine, patrician features
disappeared and were replaced by the face of a monster. “The women in
Amanda’s crowd are all attractive, cultured, moneyed…and the most spiteful
group of shrews you could ever have the displeasure of meeting. They’ll
trample on her memory, and that’s all I have left of my little girl. Dear
God, that’s all I have left, and I
can’t lose it!” “What
do you want from me?” Jim cried. “Just let
Amanda rest in peace with her dignity intact,” Carlton answered. “Let the
ugly truth that you had rejected her and broken her heart die with her.
Nobody but us needs to know.” “What
about the police?” Matthew demanded. He felt sorry for the Woodwards, but his
protective fatherly instinct had taken over, and keeping his son out of
harm’s way was his only concern. “They’ve already called asking to speak with
Jim, and they’ll ask him about his relationship with Amanda. Surely you can’t
expect him to lie to the authorities—” “Natasha
and I already have,” Carlton informed them matter-of-factly. Weak
from shock and blood loss, Jim used all his strength to lean forward in his
bed, his complexion ashen. “You…you told the cops that Amanda and I were
still getting married? Why? Why
would you do that?” “I
didn’t want them to know that you don’t love her. If the police find out,
soon the rest of the world will, too, and they’ll desecrate Mandy’s memory.”
Tears trickled down Carlton’s tanned cheeks. “I…I just wanted to protect her.
Can’t you understand that?” Jim
gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I can,” he whispered. “Well, you may
not have a problem lying to the police, but Jim might,” Matthew asserted.
“Not only is it illegal, it could interfere with the investigation.” “How
could this one little fib hinder the search for her killer?” Natasha queried.
“For
one thing, it could make Jim look guilty,” Matthew informed them brusquely. Carlton
gave a loud huff. “Guilty about what? We know Jim didn’t murder our daughter.
We intend to stand behind him and make sure the press doesn’t paint him in a
negative light. In fact, this will be easier for us to accomplish if everyone
believes he and Amanda were still engaged.” “Besides,”
Natasha added, “I seriously doubt the authorities consider him a suspect.
He’s a do-gooder from one of the wealthiest families in the nation. And, not
only are you filthy rich, you’re one of the most respected and powerful
families in the nation. You’re practically untouchable.” Matthew’s
lips set in a grim line. “All the more reason for the authorities to launch a
witch-hunt. Furthermore, the significant other is always a subject in a murder investigation. So, regardless of his
innocence, Jim will be a person of
interest in this case, no matter what we tell the detectives. Therefore, I
think we need to be completely upfront and honest with the authorities and
tell them everything.” “Do
you intend to tell them about Jim’s new relationship?” Natasha demanded
hotly. “Will you inform everyone that he broke up with Amanda and proposed to
this new girl the very same evening? Are you going to announce that you kept
this new fiancée a secret from the rest of the world and pretended to be
engaged to Amanda for the sole purpose of keeping the investors of Ten Acres
Academy happy?” Instead
of swaying Matthew and Jim to their way of thinking, this statement only
enraged both men. “That’s a
bold-faced lie, and you know it!” Matthew thundered, the vein in his forehead
bulging. “I only agreed
to this ruse in the first place because you asked me to!” Jim blustered. “I never wanted to pretend Amanda and I
were still engaged!” Carlton
reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand, his discreet way of warning her
that she had said too much. “You’ve
gone too far, Woodward,” Matthew growled. “You’re crazy if you think I’m
going to stand by and allow you to sacrifice my son just to save your family
a little embarrassment!” Carlton
held up a hand in protest. “Matthew, if we’re prudent, we can protect the
image of both our children.” “I
don’t care about my image.” In spite of his injuries, Jim bowed his back and
jutted his jaw in a show of defiance. “I only want to tell the
truth...something I should’ve done months ago!” “That’s
all well and good, but after all the lies you’ve already told, no one may
believe you,” Carlton replied. “Lies
you asked him to tell,” Matthew
reminded him coldly. Carlton’s
only response to that was a smirk. His grief temporarily replaced by
determination, he stared down the two Wheeler men, his whip-sharp gaze giving
Jim a glimpse of the ruthless, cutthroat businessman he was reputed to be. He
would return to his bereavement later, but in defending the memory of his
daughter, Carlton had found a diversion—albeit a temporary one—from the
heartache. “Perhaps
we should calm down and focus our attention on getting our stories straight
instead of attacking one another,” he suggested. “There’s
nothing to ‘get straight’,” Matthew argued. “I already told you that Jim’s
coming clean, and nothing you can say is going to change his mind.” The
look on Carlton’s face said otherwise. “I beg to differ. I have a feeling
that a man as honorable as Jim will be swayed to my way of thinking.” Jim
narrowed his eyes, his ginger-colored brows drawn together in a crease of
puzzlement. “What makes you think that?” “I
have two reasons.” Carlton leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms in
front of his chest, a smug expression on his face. “One, you feel guilty—as
well you should— about proposing to Amanda when you were in love with someone
else. You’ve told us before that you genuinely cared about her, but I can’t
help but wonder if you only asked her to marry you so I would invest more
money in that school of yours.” It
was all Matthew could do to restrain himself from leaping out of his seat and
attacking Carlton with the viciousness of a mother bear robbed of her cubs.
His hands shook so badly that he could barely point his finger to accentuate
his words. “That was over the line, Woodward! There’s not an ounce of truth
to those despicable accusations, and you know it. We don’t need your blood
money, and even if I go flat broke tomorrow, I’d rather sell a kidney on the
black market than allow Jim to take another dime from you. So, as far as I’m
concerned, you can take your money and go—” “Two,” Carlton continued, his smile a thin,
angry slash, “if Jim tells everyone that he broke up with Amanda and proposed
to another girl the same evening, it’ll end up on the front page of the New York Post. You know how judgmental
people can be, and as chivalrous as you are, Jim, you wouldn’t want the whole
country to think you dumped Amanda to marry some gold-digging tramp.” This
time, Jim was poised to attack. Adrenaline coursed through him, and his
weakness was replaced with anger. His entire body pulsated with rage, and for
a few tense seconds, it looked as if another member of the Woodward family
might possibly die that day. Matthew had to physically restrain Jim to keep
him from jumping out of his hospital bed and onto Carlton. Since he was still
angry as well, the only reason Matthew even bothered to hold him back was
that he feared Jim would rip out the intravenous tubes in his arm during the
assault. “So
help me, Woodward, if you say another bad word about Trixie ever again, I’ll
kill you,” Jim threatened, his tone as icy as an Arctic wind. Carlton
raised a single eyebrow in challenge. “How sweet. You think she isn’t after
your money.” “No,
I know she isn’t after my money,”
Jim ground out. “I’m
sorry, but I wasn’t aware that your fiancée’s family was so financially secure
that they wouldn’t have any interest in your fortune,” Carlton goaded. “How
much are they worth exactly?” “That’s
none of your business,” Matthew retorted. “Furthermore, at least Peter Belden
earns his money honestly. Some of your business ethics are questionable, to
say the least.” If
Carlton had been a lion, he would’ve been circling his prey, knowing that it
was almost time to move in for the kill. One of the things that made him such
a successful businessman was the ability to read people, and he could tell
that he had gotten under Jim’s skin. “I’ll take that to mean that they aren’t
worth much,” he deduced. Jim
gritted his teeth so hard that he could taste calcium powder. “Trixie could
care less about my money, you cocky son of a—” “That may be true,
but that isn’t what everyone will think,” Carlton interrupted. His shifted
his attention to Matthew. “Go ahead and tell him what kind of people run in
our circle. And don’t leave out any of the gruesome details. Since Jim is so
naïve, be sure to include how pretentious and judgmental the filthy rich can
be. If you have any doubt, go spend some time with Amanda’s friends.” Like
the gunslingers in the old days, Matthew stared down the enemy, his
expression menacing as his fingers alternately curled and uncurled as if they
were preparing to pull a trigger. He wasn’t quite as cutthroat as Carlton
Woodward, but when it came to protecting his children, he would do anything
necessary to shield them from danger. “What’s
your point?” he growled. “My
point is that many of the people who contribute financially to Ten Acres
Academy are very opinionated,” Carlton explained. “If it becomes public
knowledge that Jim broke Amanda’s heart before her murder, her friends will
snicker and make derogatory comments about her. However, not everyone will
mock her. The people that invest in your school will feel sorry for her.
Knowing my daughter as I did, I’m sure she wouldn’t have wanted their
sympathy any more than she wanted their scorn, so neither scenario pleases
me. “Not
only will Amanda’s persona suffer, yours will be tarnished as well, Jim,” he
continued. “The media will portray you as a callous playboy, and the men and
women who support Ten Acres will wonder if you’re fit to mold impressionable
youngsters in the manner they deem appropriate.” “But
that’s ridiculous,” Jim spat out. “Far
more ridiculous things than that have been believed.” Carlton narrowed his
eyes as he moved in for the kill. “These same people will be even quicker to
believe unflattering things about your fiancée. The rich donors who write all
the big checks that fund your school will be suspicious of her. Out of
sympathy, they’ll automatically side with Amanda, and it will be almost
impossible for Trixie to ever win them over.” Carlton was
pleased to notice the pinched expression on Jim’s face. “And if you think the
upper-class are a tough crowd, then just wait until the media latches onto
this news. The press will eat Trixie alive, and God help her if those
disgusting gossip rags get wind of this story. Those trashy magazines smell
blood in the water faster than a bunch of hungry sharks, and they aren’t
above stretching the facts to sell their lies. You and Trixie will be
crucified in the court of public opinion, absolutely crucified.” “I don’t care
what they say about me, but they had better leave Trixie out of this,” Jim
rasped. Carlton held
out his arms, his palms upturned in a gesture of supposed goodwill. “I
understand your concern for Trixie, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to help
you.” “Why not?” “Because you didn’t help me,” Carlton replied coldly. “I’ll make sure I tell everyone with
ears to hear how heartbroken Amanda was and how callously you treated her.” Jim shook his head
in disbelief. As one who constantly sought to aid his fellow man, he couldn’t
understand Carlton’s refusal to help him. “I know you’re
devastated by Amanda’s death, but that’s no excuse to take it out on Jim,”
Matthew said. “After you’ve had time to think it through—” “There’s
nothing to think about!” Carlton interjected. “You’ll help me protect Amanda
or I’ll ruin everything that’s precious to you. Your school, your business,
your fiancée…I’ll ruin it all.” “Trixie doesn’t
deserve to be dragged through the mud,” Jim hissed, his eyes blazing with
anger. “Her main concern throughout this entire fiasco has been to avoid
attention. It’ll kill her to be the target of a smear campaign.” “I’m sure it
will,” Carlton agreed. “It will likely also destroy her career, which I
assume is very important to her.” “Pardon my
skepticism, but why are you so concerned about Trixie all of a sudden?”
Matthew demanded. “I won’t insult your intelligence by
feigning concern for Jim’s fiancée,” Carlton said. “But, although we seem to
be at cross-purposes with one another, we in fact want the same thing—to
protect someone we love, no matter what the cost. However, if you aren’t
interested in that, I’ll be quite happy to talk to the Post myself. In no time at all, every single person in the United States will learn the sordid
details, and your new fiancée will be the target of their smear campaign.
Nothing will be secret.” Jim sat
upright, his eyes glowing like green flames. Nothing will be secret. Those
words echoed in his brain, and he came to the realization that, to this
point, Trixie had been sheltered from the media. Nobody knew she was the love
of his life; the general population assumed that title belonged to Amanda.
And look what had happened to her. Amanda’s only crime had been her
engagement to him, and for some crazy woman out there, that had been cause
enough to sign Amanda’s death warrant. Did he really want the world to find
out about Trixie? Would he be signing her
death warrant by talking to the media? Was it worth the risk? “What exactly
did you have in mind?” he baited. Frustrated,
Matthew was tempted to reach over and shake some sense into his son. “Jim,
surely you aren’t—” “I
just want to hear what he has to say!” he interrupted. He took a moment to
compose himself, and then turned to his adversary. “Carlton?” “I want to protect Amanda’s memory; you want
to protect Trixie’s integrity,” Carlton responded. “If we work together, we
can accomplish both our goals.” At
this point, Jim was concerned more for Trixie’s safety than her integrity,
but Carlton didn’t need to know that. “I’m listening,” he prompted. Matthew
placed a firm hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Son…” A warning glare from Jim caused
his voice to drift off into disapproving silence. “I
think we can all agree that this is a delicate situation, and it must be
handled with the utmost discretion,” Carlton told them. “I suggest that we
continue allowing people to believe that you were going to marry Amanda as
planned. You only need to play the part of the mourning fiancé and make a few
public appearances to keep up the facade.” “And
how long do you expect me to do this?” “Only for
another month or so,” Carlton answered. “After a few weeks, you can announce
your engagement to Trixie. She was your childhood sweetheart, correct?” Jim
nodded. A month. Surely that will give
Jack enough time to find out who’s stalking me, he thought to himself. “Perhaps
you can play up that angle and lead people to believe that you rekindled your
relationship with Trixie after Amanda’s death,” Carlton suggested.
“Regardless, when the time is right, Natasha and I will publically support
your engagement to Trixie and tell the press how pleased we are that you were
able to find love again after your tragic loss.” “It
sounds like you have this all planned out,” Matthew remarked, disapproval
evident in his tone. “Contrary
to what you may be thinking, there’s nothing wrong with a carefully planned
strategy, especially when it helps the people we love,” Carlton countered. Like
a bloodhound on the trail of a scent, Matthew continued to dog the man he had
once called a friend but now considered his enemy. “There’s also nothing
wrong with telling the truth, and the best part is that there’s no strategizing
necessary. Isn’t that right, son? You’re going to tell the authorities
everything, aren’t you?” “How
about we let Jim choose for himself?” Carlton proposed. “What do you think,
son? Shall we work together to protect Amanda and Trixie?” Jim’s
mouth settled into a rigid line as he contemplated the offer. Carlton’s
patronizing way of calling him “son” made him feel like he was making a pact
with the devil, but he had a much bigger issue at hand— keeping his stalker
far away from his beloved. “Trixie cannot get hurt…” he whispered. “If
you do what I say, she won’t.” Carlton’s voice was urgent. “Do
you give me your word that if I play along, you and your PR goon will leave
Trixie out of this?” Jim implored. “Jim, tell me you
aren’t seriously considering this!” Matthew exclaimed. “Think about it, son!” “I
honestly don’t know what to think.”
Like a drowning man desperately lifting his head above water for a precious
breath of air, Jim fought to suck in oxygen. “Trixie means everything to me…” Natasha
hadn’t spoken for some time; however, she decided it was time to voice her
opinion. “Don’t forget about Amanda. After the way you treated her, you owe
her this small favor.” Jim
looked into the pleading eyes of Amanda’s mother. Silvery-gray like her
daughter’s, Natasha’s eyes were full of pain, the kind of pain Jim had
experienced twice during his own life, the kind of pain that Jim wouldn’t
wish on his worst enemy. And, as sorry as he felt for the Woodwards, it was
more imperative that he protect himself from ever experiencing that pain
again. “Jim,
you don’t owe anyone anything,” Matthew begged. “All your life you’ve stood
for what is right, and what Carlton is asking you to do isn’t right. You know this, son.” “That’s true, but proposing to Amanda
when I was in love with Trixie wasn’t right,” Jim murmured. “Pretending to
still be engaged to Amanda wasn’t right. Furthermore, dragging Trixie into
this media mess isn’t right, either. For someone so intent on doing what’s
right, I’ve already done a whole lot of wrong things.” “It’s
never wrong to protect the people we love, especially those who are unable to
protect themselves,” Carlton advised. “What kind of a man would you be if you
threw the women who love you the most to the wolves?” Matthew
resisted the urge to punch Carlton in the mouth and focused on pleading his
case. “Jim, if you don’t want to listen to me, then think
about what Win would say. Your father had a lot of character, and you remind
me so much of him. What would his advice be to you?” “This
is all too much!” Clutching his bandaged head, Jim rocked back and forth in
his hospital bed. As badly as he wanted to set the record straight, visions
of Trixie lying in a pool of blood with a bullet in her head haunted him. “I
need some time to think…” “That’s
a wise idea,” Matthew said. “Jim has suffered a bad head injury, and we’re
all in a state of shock. This is no time to make a rash decision. Why don’t
you give him some time to consider his options, and once he’s had time to
think, he’ll get back to you?” “You
said yourself that the police would be questioning him soon,” Carlton
reminded them. “We don’t have the luxury of time; Jim needs to make a
decision now.” “Why
do you insist on rushing him?” Matthew hissed. “If
I’m rushing, then you’re stalling.” Carlton’s gaze honed in on Jim. “What do
you think, son? What’s your gut telling you to do?” Jim
shook his throbbing head. He wasn’t sure if the pain had returned because he
was overdue for his pain medication or if it was because of stress. Whatever
the cause, it felt like someone had lodged a screwdriver in his brain. The
room started spinning so badly around him that, had Jim closed his eyes, he
would’ve guessed that he was on a carnival ride rather than lying in a
hospital bed. “I don’t
know,” he muttered weakly. “I just don’t know…” “You’re
running out of time,” Carlton warned. “You need to make a choice now.” Matthew placed
a trembling hand on Jim’s arm. “Do you what you think is best, son. I trust
you to make the right decision. Whatever you choose to do, your mother and I
will support you. Just please don’t
do anything rash. I can stall the police if you need more time to think.” “I don’t need
any more time.” Jim’s voice could barely be heard even in the small,
relatively quiet room. Clutching the rails of the bed, he fastened his gaze
on his father, confident in his decision. All doubt gone, he knew exactly
what he needed to do. “I’m sorry,
Dad. No matter what the future holds for me, no matter who is angered by my
actions, no matter what trouble I find myself in… No matter what it costs me,
I’ve got to protect Trixie. “She’s my
kryptonite.” The End
First, I’ve got to give a big shout out to my faithful
friends and editors who work so hard to make my stories readable! Kaye, Steph, and Ryl, what would I do
without you? Thank you so much for all your valuable input and for putting up
with my silly typos! In case you missed it, here is the link to the prequel in the
Past uni. As a
reminder, I had already been inspired to write this story, but the song
“Kryptonite” by 3 Doors Down made it all come together. If you’ve never heard
that song and would like to, here is the link to the video on
YouTube. I’ve never actually watched it, so I don’t know what the content is
or if it’s appropriate for all ages. I
can only endorse the song, which is pretty awesome. Escada is a famous designer label that
goes for big bucks. I made the mistake of “picking out” Natasha’s suit, and I ended up finding several others that I wanted
for myself. Unfortunately, I don’t have Natasha’s fortune, so unless I find a
good knockoff or shop around on eBay, I’ll have to stick to buying my suits
at J.C. Penney. As
honorable as Jim is, you knew there would be some repercussions from his engagement
to Amanda and the subsequent breakup, especially after her death. He’s paying
the piper right now, and those bills are just going to keep on coming until
this situation is resolved. In
case you don’t know, ZZ Top is
a rock band, and two of their members have long, scraggly beards. Al’s
glossary: Newshawks- reporters Mezzofinook- an Italian derogatory term for an
effeminate male Gettin’ gashouse- getting rough with Stungatzes- idiots or morons Chin
music- to punch in the mouth Dust
out- to leave Blower-
phone Fuhgazi- something phony or fake Savvy-
Do you understand? The
thought of Al spending time with Madeleine Wheeler amuses me immensely. So
much, in fact, that I’m planning a story that will force them to spend an
afternoon together. Ya know, I hadn’t intended on making the Woodwards so devious.
Initially, they were going to make this proposal without being so cold and
calculated. But, as I wrote, their characters didn’t ring true to me. While I
was working on this, I learned something about the “real” Amanda’s parents
that really made me mad. I can forgive a lot of things, but when someone
tries to betray my man… Well, that doesn’t go over so well. I channeled all
of that indignation into portraying the Woodwards as the self-serving,
selfish people they are. Lesson? Cross me or my dreamy woodsman and you’ll
end up immortalized in fanfic. I’m
not quite sure what Carlton Woodward did that Matthew considered so unethical,
but I do know that it was something recent. Who knows? Maybe there’s a story
there, and I’ll be able to torture Carlton a little more. Do I
think Jim’s Superman? Kind of. Defenders of Jim, unite!
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