Defenseless (10 page)

Dwayne remembered the pain reflected in Sonya's eyes earlier that evening, and suddenly the answer became crystal clear to him. She was afraid. Of what, he didn't know and found himself wishing that he did. The protectiveness he felt for her grew with each passing day.

Dwayne shook the thoughts forming in his mind. He should be thinking of other matters, such as his missing client.

The sight of flickering lights caught Dwayne's attention. He headed toward the living room to find out its source. Stepping into the spacious room, he didn't expect the lovely vision of Sonya dressed in a blue lace nightgown. She sat prettily on the couch with the added light from the candles illuminated around her. He couldn't figure out why she had at least a dozen or more candles lit in the living room as she seemed engrossed in something she was holding.

Dwayne didn't want to disturb her, so he started to head back to his room. If it wasn't for the sniffling he heard, he would have carried out his plans.

“Sonya?” he asked, stepping back into the room. If she heard him, she didn't show it. She continued studying something in her lap. “Sonya, are you all right?”

This time Sonya did look up, her eyes puffy and red. It was obvious to him that she'd been crying. “You're wrong. All men are alike.” Her words slurred together as her lips trembled.

“You're drunk,” Dwayne said, coming toward her. He noticed another empty bottle of Merlot in front of her.

“I'm not drunk.” Sonya tossed what looked to be a small picture frame to the opposite end of the couch. Dwayne's curiosity caused him to look toward the frame.

“I think I need to get you to bed,” he said, picking her up. She didn't seem to realize that Dwayne was carrying her up the stairs as she continued to pout. “I'm not sleepy,” she recited.

Dwayne smiled down at her, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. She rested her head against his shoulders and sighed. Dwayne worried that she would hear the hard pounding of his heart. He kicked her bedroom door open and headed to the king-sized canopy bed that sat like a golden throne in the middle of the room.

He tucked her in, and despite her protests, she closed her eyes the moment her head hit the pillow. Dwayne could do no more than gaze at her. She was more beautiful in her sleep than at any other time he'd studied her.

Slowly he turned from the room and succeeded in not disturbing her. He went back down the stairs to the living room and blew out a few of the candles before his curiosity returned to the discarded picture frame. Dwayne picked up the small frame and viewed the four people in the photograph. It wasn't a happy picture. No one in the picture was smiling. The dark, heavyset man in the photo had his arm draped possessively around a slender woman who looked repulsed by his touch. The young girls standing in front of the unhappy couple resembled their parents but not each other.

He recognized Sonya instantly. Her hair was parted in the middle and pulled into two tight ponytails. She resembled a sad angel dressed in a dingy white dress. Sonya's hands held those of the smaller sister standing beside her. Laura wore the same dress, in a smaller size. She was the only one not looking in the direction of the camera. She stood staring toward her older sister. Her face held such adoration for Sonya. It was obvious to Dwayne that Sonya had always been Laura's protector.

Dwayne thought of what Sonya had said earlier. “You're wrong. All men are alike.” He also remembered the rest of the article Carmen had given him. Dorothy Walters was a battered housewife. For the first time, he understood what Sonya meant and what she must have gone through as a child. No wonder she felt all men were the same. She had seen nothing but violence in men.

Dwayne studied Sonya again, and this time he let his finger trail around the frame of her face. She looked so sad. Slowly, he placed the picture back on the sofa and blew out the rest of the candles.

Walking back up the stairs, his thoughts wandered back to the picture. He was beginning to understand Sonya's determination to prove to herself that she could handle everything on her own. The house was a fortress she had built to protect what she held so dear: her heart.

Sleep wouldn't come as the clock now read four-forty-five. There was a sudden thrashing sound coming from outside his room. Dwayne left to investigate. The sound was coming from Sonya's room. He gently pushed open her door.

There, in her silken sheet haven, Sonya thrashed about.
She's having a bad dream.
Instantly, Dwayne was there, gathering her into his arms. “Shh, I'm here,” he whispered. Her thrashing ceased almost immediately. Her body molded itself against his chest in total relaxation.

Dwayne rocked Sonya until he felt his own sleepiness. Gently, he laid her back in the bed. A small whimper escaped Sonya's lips as she unconsciously clung to him. Without hesitation, he slid into bed beside her. Within minutes, he was asleep. Soon the first rays of dawn trickled through the windows to kiss the couple's faces as they lay sleeping peacefully.

B
ridget sat next to her aunt and uncle, bored with their conversation. They talked about different computer programs and diagnostics tests her uncle James had handled in the past week. She couldn't understand how Aunt Sharon sat there, nodding her head, as if she were truly interested in this stuff.

Neither of them noticed that she was bored out of her mind. She dipped her spoon in and out of her soggy cereal, praying that her father would call or show up to save her at any moment. She looked down disgustedly at the knee-length, pastel dress her aunt Sharon made her wear today. If anyone she knew saw her dressed like this, she would die of humiliation.

“Bridget, don't play with your food,” Sharon instructed with a smile. “And sit up straight. Young ladies don't slouch like that.”

Bridget refrained from rolling her eyes as she straightened herself in the chair. Uncle James ended his story with a boring computer joke someone told at work. Aunt Sharon laughed heartily while Bridget tried to figure out the punch line.

James turned his attention to her. “So, Bridget, you have only one year left of high school. Any thoughts about what your plans are after college?

After college? That's at least five years away. How would I know?
“I'm not quite sure what I want to do yet,” she said simply.

“It's never too soon to start planning, and trust me, computers are the future,” James said. He nodded his head toward her as if he were trying to get her to agree with him.

“Well, do you have any hobbies or interests you'd like to pursue?” Sharon jumped in.

Bridget let out a small sigh. This was going to be a long and painful conversation, she just knew it.
Hurry up and call, Daddy.
“I like music and I thought about, maybe, modeling.” That was the wrong answer, judging by the looks that passed between them.
Maybe I should've said I was thinking about becoming a doctor or lawyer.

“Is there anything else you enjoy doing? Perhaps you have a favorite subject in school?” Sharon asked with hoped laced in her voice.

“No, not really. I don't think school really agrees with me,” she answered honestly.

“How about another hobby?” James asked, a little too eager.

“I like collecting coins. I have over two thousand that I've collected over the years. It's really neat. Maybe you would like to see them?” She looked from her uncle to her aunt, who gave her odd looks.

“Does your father know about your not preparing for your future?” Sharon asked, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

Bridget slumped her shoulders but quickly corrected herself at Sharon's disapproving look. “Dad says that I should take my time deciding what I want to do, and that no matter what I choose, he would stand behind me.” That wasn't completely true. What he had said was for her to start getting serious about life and get her head out of the clouds. But she wasn't about to tell them that.

The breakfast table grew quiet as everyone finished their meal. Bridget didn't see what the big deal was. Everyone acted as if she were supposed to already have her whole life planned.
I'm sixteen. What's the rush?

“Are you all packed?” James asked Sharon when she stood to clear the dishes.

“Yes. Our reservations are confirmed. We leave tomorrow at eleven.”

Bridget helped clear the table. As her aunt and uncle talked about attending some banquet in James's honor in California, Bridget blocked out the rest of their conversation. She thought about her future. She liked the idea of pursuing a career involving precious coins. The subject fascinated her.

After the dishes were all cleared away, Bridget returned to the guest room to give Sharon and James their privacy. Once she was alone in her room, she let her shoulders slump to their regular position. She felt hurt by her aunt and uncle's lack of support.
Whose life is it, anyway?

She waited patiently for her father to call. Being on restriction was a drag. She couldn't believe he told her aunt that she was not to leave the house until he had personally called for her to do so.

Another hour passed, and Bridget grew restless. Aunt Sharon knocked on the door and peeked in. “What are you doing?” she asked, smiling.

“Thinking,” Bridget answered.

“About what?” she asked, walking into the room.

Bridget shook her head. “I don't think you want to hear about it.”

Sharon lifted a questioning brow. “Of course I would. Why would you think that?”

“I don't think anyone cares about what I really want to do. Just what they think I should do.”

Sharon sat beside Bridget with a hurtful expression. “That's not true, Bridget. I'm always here when you want to talk.”

Bridget took a deep breath, then began talking carefully. “I'm hurt by how you and Uncle James made me feel at breakfast. I'm not some silly teenager. I mean, you made me feel like my suggestions for a career were stupid or something.”

“Honey, we didn't mean to offend you. It's just that we want the best for you. That includes the best schools and the best career.”

“I know, but maybe I should have a say on what I think is best for me. Every time I come over here, I get hit with questions on my career choices or advice on how to catch a husband once I'm in college. I might not want to get married. Maybe I don't want to go to college.”

“Not go to college?”

Bridget dropped her head.
Here we go again.
Adults didn't mind her expressing her opinion as long as it didn't differ from theirs. “That's an option. College isn't for everyone, you know.”

Sharon smiled tightly. “Maybe we should discuss this with your father.”

Bridget threw her hand up. “Why? It's not my father's decision. It's mine. I kinda like the idea of dealing with coins. Perhaps I could be some kind of dealer or something.”

“Without a college education?” Sharon asked skeptically.

“College doesn't guarantee you a job, Aunt Sharon,” Bridget said, placing her hands on her hips.

Sharon continued to shake her head. “Your father isn't going to like this.”

Bridget gave up. Aunt Sharon hadn't heard a word she'd said. She put her face in the palm of her hand and chose to ignore the rest of her aunt's words. If Aunt Sharon wanted to tell her father, she would just have to prepare herself to go through this speech when she got home. Again she wished that he would hurry up and call.

 

Sonya rolled over and bumped her head against something hard. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see a broad chest lying beside her. Her heart skipped a beat as she allowed her eyes to travel upward. Her entire body quivered in shock at discovering Dwayne sleeping beside her.

Desperately, she searched her memory for an explanation. She remembered not being able to sleep, then going downstairs to have another glass of wine. Bits and pieces of her drinking more than just one glass of Merlot flooded her mind. A remorseful moan sounded deep within herself.
What have I done?

Dwayne's arms tightened around her waist as he snuggled closer. Her eyes widened in alarm as her voice failed her. She was speechless. She allowed herself a moment to think before she decided to ease away from him. It was easier said than done. His arms were too heavy for her to lift. They seemed to weigh a ton.

Sonya gave up after the fifth try. She needed a better plan, but she couldn't think of another way of escaping his embrace. Surely she didn't let her first time result from a drunken stupor. She found comfort in the fact that she was still dressed in her nightgown.
That could only mean nothing happened. Right? Why can't I remember?
Sonya felt her anger rise.
How dare he take advantage of me when I obviously couldn't defend myself. What kind of man was he?

Sonya allowed her fury to build while she imagined wild scenarios that led them to being in bed. She never once believed she played a guilty role, resulting in them lying in bed together. She blamed Dwayne for taking advantage of the situation.

Her anger gave her strength to start pounding on Dwayne's chest, waking him instantly.

“What the hell?” Dwayne demanded, warding off one of her punches.

Sonya's fury was at full swing as she continued to land punches at different parts of his body. “You bastard!”

In one quick motion, Dwayne stood and dragged her out of bed. “What is your problem?” he commanded, glaring at her.

“How dare you take advantage of me!” Sonya yelled back at him.

“Take advantage?” Dwayne gave her a disgusted scowl. He saw her wince in pain from his tight grip, so he dropped his hands and proceeded to shout at her, “Is that what you honestly think I did? Do you believe that I would even consider doing such a thing?”

Sonya's face registered disbelief.
Did he plan to deny the obvious?
“Apparently you get your kicks by seducing women when they are defenseless.”

“You mean drunk, don't you?” Dwayne sneered.

Sonya clenched her hands into tight fists. “I don't care what I was, it still gave you no right to seduce me!”

Dwayne found her reaction comical. “Seduce? Have you lost your mind?” He gave a lustful smile. “After the way you entwined your body all over me last night?”

Sonya's face turned deep red. “That's a lie,” she accused, refusing to believe him.

“Trust me, if anyone seduced anyone, it was you seducing me. I couldn't pry your body off me if I wanted to,” Dwayne continued, smiling down at her.

“Liar!” she said, backing away.

Dwayne tensed at her viciousness. “How would you know? You were too drunk to remember. And I'll tell you one thing. You're quite the tigress when you're drunk. When you're sober, you won't ever have to worry about a man wanting to touch you. You are the most dispassionate, uptight woman I've ever known!”

Sonya put all her strength into the powerful slap that stung her hand. She watched the dark imprint from her hand surface against his smooth skin. She closed her eyes, sure that he would no doubt retaliate.

Dwayne turned and left the room without saying another word to her. When the door closed behind him, Sonya opened her eyes, puzzled. She continued to stand in the middle of her room long after she heard him walk out of the guest room and out of the house. The sound of his car's engine revving caused her to go to the window. She watched regretfully as he sped down the driveway.

She wiped away the tears trickling down her face.
Damn him!
She looked away from the window as a sense of loneliness engulfed her. A voice deep within her screamed that she had made a mistake.

 

Standing in the shower, Sonya cursed herself for the zillionth time. She was convinced she had overreacted. There had to be a reasonable explanation for what happened, she just wished she knew what it was.

By the time she had dressed and called the police to report Laura missing, Sonya was riddled with guilt. The front doorbell rang, and Sonya went downstairs to answer it.

“Good morning, Miss Walters,” Sergeant Freeman greeted.

Sonya shook her head, not believing her luck. “Are you the only police officer that works in Atlanta?”

“It would seem so. May I come in?”

Sonya stepped aside to allow the sergeant to enter. She started to close the door behind him when another officer appeared.

“Miss Walters, this is Sergeant Anderson with the Roswell Police Department. I took the liberty of having his precinct inform me when anything dealing with you or your sister came up.”

“How kind of you,” she answered.

“Good morning, Miss Walters,” Sergeant Anderson greeted finally. Sonya nodded in acknowledgment.

“You called to report Laura missing?” Freeman asked.

Sonya hated Freeman's tone and cringed from the mere thought of having to tell this man her sister was missing. She knew what this report would do to Laura's bond.

“Miss Walters?” Freeman broke into her private thoughts.

“Yes. My sister is missing.”

“Missing, or has she skipped town?”

Sonya bit her lip to prevent herself from saying what she really wanted. Freeman was riding her nerves. Every time she turned around, it seemed, he was looking over her shoulders.

“Miss Walters, you do realize there is a possibility that Laura left on her own?” Freeman added.

“I doubt that,” Sonya answered, walking away from the door to stand directly in front of Sergeant Freeman. “I believe my sister was taken against her will.”

Freeman erupted in laughter. Evidently he didn't believe her. Sonya moved away from him to stand in front of Sergeant Anderson.

“You look like a man who takes his job seriously.” She gave Freeman a disgusted look. “Are you going to do your job and take my statement or not?”