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Authors: Steven Gossington

BOOK: Fractured Eden
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“I . . . I want to ask you something.” Aaron held up his hand. “Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

“What?”

“Is it my face?”

Marley’s jaw dropped. “Of course not. You’re a good-looking man, in a rugged way.”

“Okay. Rugged is good.”

 

                                                       

                                                        ****

 

From his parked car, Constable Keller Greevy watched Aaron drive off down the road. He stepped out but didn’t close the door, and he stood and watched Marley’s house. After several minutes, he shook his head.

What in the world was crazy Cajun Tucker Boudreaux babbling about in the street yesterday?

He stepped back into his car and drove away.

It was probably just Tucker’s idiot nonsense.

 

                                                        ****

 

Marley sat on the edge of her bed, alone in the darkness. Cristal was asleep in her own bedroom down the hallway.

Marley put her hand over her eyes and bowed her head, sobbing into a tissue. Some tears escaped and dripped onto her thighs.

“God, what should I do?”

She shouted and stiffened as something touched her leg.

“Cristal, angel. You should be asleep.”

Cristal gazed up at Marley and hugged her thigh. She climbed up into Marley’s lap and rested her head against Marley’s chest.

Marley dried her eyes with tissue and stroked Cristal’s hair. After several minutes, she heard Cristal’s soft snores.

As Marley stared ahead, her vision cleared, and she gave a faint nod.

She lifted Cristal across her arms, kissed her forehead, and carried her to her bedroom.

“Everything will be fine,” Marley whispered as she pulled the sheet over Cristal’s chest.

 

                                                        ****

 

Aaron lay on top of his sheets. His eyes were open, but his mind was elsewhere.

That’s it. I’ll book a cruise. Maybe a Caribbean cruise, or one to Alaska. I’ll bet Cristal would like Alaska.

                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         
Chapter 15

 

 

With vacant eyes, V. Brad Benningham sat on his living room couch and stared out the window. Orange and caramel colors washed over the evening horizon.

He leaned forward to a table and opened an album of photos. Leafing through the pages, he studied family images from the past, pausing at times to stare at certain photos of his son, Preston, before the days of the addiction.

Myra walked into the living room. “Dinner is ready.”

Brad didn’t look up. Myra sat down beside him on the couch.

Brad continued to gaze at the photos, page after page.

Myra smiled and pointed to a photo of Preston with her. “There’s Preston in his Tiger Cub shirt. Remember that?”

Brad closed the album and walked to the window. “I wasn’t there for him.”

Myra joined him and put her hands around his arm. “You’re there for him now, and he needs you.”

“I hope it’s not too late.”

“He’s coming home tomorrow. Maybe this time, he’ll be okay.”

They looked out of the window until the colors of the sunset faded.

 

It was a hot, muggy day when Preston Benningham came home from rehab.

Brad pulled into the driveway of their house. He and Preston had spoken only a few words on the trip back from the rehab center.

Myra greeted them at the door, and Preston carried his suitcase to his bedroom.

“How is he?” Myra said.

“It’s too soon to tell.”

After a few minutes, Preston walked into the living room.

Brad turned to Myra. “We’re going to see the doc. Preston wants to apologize.”

                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         
Chapter 16

 

 

Stella fanned her face with a clipboard as she escorted Brad and Preston into a patient room. “I’ll get Dr. Rovsing.”

Aaron entered the room. “Hello, Preston. You’re looking better.”

“Thanks. I’m doing okay.”

“I can tell. You’re headed in the right direction.”

Brad cleared his throat. “Preston has something to say.”

A pasty-faced Preston looked at the floor. “I was out of my head that day. I’m sorry I pointed a gun at you.”

“You’ve got an illness that has to be managed. There’s a lot of help around for you,” Aaron said.

Brad put his hand on Preston’s shoulder. “We’re going to make it.”

Preston sighed and looked up at Aaron. “Addiction is rough, isn’t it?”

“It can take complete control of you. It can ruin your life.”

“You must see other patients like me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Some of them recover, don’t they?”

“They can recover, with the right kind of help.”

“Isn’t everyone addicted to something?” Preston said.

“Everybody has the potential to fall into some kind of addiction.”

Brad looked up. “Heck, some people are sugar addicts. Right, Doc?”

“I agree.”

“Does it ever go away?” Preston said.

Aaron shook his head. “The trap will always be there.”

“For the rest of my life?”

“It’s best to assume that.”

“That’s what they told me in rehab. I guess every day is going to be a battle.”

“Yes, it can be, but it’s a battle you can win, one day at a time.”

Brad patted Preston’s shoulder and nodded. “That’s why we need doctors and counselors.”

Aaron stepped closer to Preston. “Can I ask some personal questions?”

“Fire away.”

“Did you grow up around here?”

“I was born here,” Preston said.

“You must be about the same age as Race Taggett. Did you go to school with him?”

Preston chuckled. “Now, there’s a guy with real problems. He was a year ahead of me. I don’t think he finished high school.”

“What was he like?”

“A loner. He didn’t have any friends that I knew of. He skipped class a lot.”

“Did he talk to people?”

“I guess so. I talked with him a couple of times. He didn’t have much to say, and he acted weird sometimes. Word went around that he used to cut himself.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. “You mean, like with a knife?”

“Yeah. I remember seeing bandages on his arms.”

“I’m sure the school tried to work with him.”

“Maybe so. He was really good in sports. He was strong and fast. He could’ve been a star athlete.”

“I believe that.”

“He never had a girlfriend, either, at least that I knew of. Some of the girls used to make fun of him, all the time. They were worse to him than the guys. Once he tried to hug a girl, but she screamed and called him an icky freak.”

“Why all the questions about Race?” Brad said.

“I just want to get to know folks in the community. I might see him someday as a patient.”

“Good luck with that,” Preston said. He held up his hand. “I just remembered something. After Race left school, two of the teachers disappeared.”

“That’s right,” Brad said. “They were never found, and there was a rumor that Race might’ve been involved somehow. Looking back on it, I wonder if that rumor got started just because Race was such a weird guy. They probably just moved somewhere else without telling anyone.”

As they walked out of the room, Brad turned to Aaron. “Do you hunt?”

“I’ve never been,” Aaron said.

“I go deer hunting every year. Why don’t you come along next time?”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“Believe me, it’s good for you. You can reconnect with your manhood, with that hunter instinct in you that’s deep in your DNA.”

Aaron puffed out his chest. “Manhood DNA. Sounds good. Can you teach me how to shoot?”

“We’ll go to the shooting range, and you’ll be good to go.”

Then I’ll be a real Texan,
Aaron thought.

Stella frowned and fanned her face as she watched Preston and Brad walk out of the clinic.

Aaron approached her. “You weren’t happy to see them, were you?”

“I wish I never had to deal with a drug addict again.”

 

After lunch, Aaron spotted the drug rep in the hallway. Aaron didn’t offer to shake his hand.

“Hi, Doc. Were you able to prescribe my antibiotic?”

“Yes, I’m using it in my patients. I think it works well.”

“Great. Say, I was wondering, a lot of doctors invest. Do you? I can steer you to some great investments.” He held his hands behind his back as he rocked on his heels.

“Are you talking about the stock market?”

“Actually, there are some promising new medical devices. I’ve studied these products, and I think one of them in particular will be a gold mine for investors. A gold mine.”

Aaron hesitated.

“Don’t miss out on this. It could make us both very rich.”

Aaron sighed.
Oh, boy. I’ve heard that line before.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass on that for now.”

“Maybe later then. Here’s some info about that 5K I told you about.” He handed Aaron a flyer. “It’s a popular race every year.”

“Good. I’ve already started jogging again.”

The rep pulled out his hand wipes and turned to leave.

Aaron held up his hand. “Wait, you mentioned last week that you knew Forrester Brighton, Marley’s husband.”

“I was a few years behind him in high school.”

“What was he like?”

“He was a good football player, until he had that brain injury. He never was right in the head after that. He began to act like a mean little kid.”

“He acted immature?”

“He sure did. He wanted his way all the time and picked fights if you didn’t go along with him. He bragged about all the girls he scored with.”

“Was he always a womanizer?”

“Not before, I don’t think so. He was a different person after the injury. It turned everybody off.” He stopped rocking on his heels and leaned toward Aaron. “And the girls said he couldn’t even do it. He wasn’t scoring at all.”

Aaron’s eyes flew open. “You mean, he’s impotent?”

“That’s what I mean.”

“But he and Marley have a child,” Aaron said.

“She’s adopted.”

Aaron shook his head. “I’m amazed Marley stuck with him. She must be an angel.”

 

                                                        ****

 

Preston walked outside under the porte cochere of the Benningham mansion and gazed at the orange and red colors oozing over the evening horizon. He spotted Rocky Donnigan on the street and watched as Rocky pedaled his bicycle up the driveway toward him. 

“How’re you doing?” Rocky said, braking his bicycle near Preston.

“Better, thanks.”

“I’m glad. You’re still young. You have your whole life in front of you.”

Preston put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve heard all that.”

“I blew it when I was your age, and look at me now.”

Preston glanced up at Rocky.

“I was addicted to cocaine for a while,” Rocky said. “I got off it and on to booze. My father kicked me out when I was twenty.”

“Everyone can get addicted to something,” Preston said.

“Sure, but you’re a good man, and you have a future. You still have your father.”

“Where is your father now?”

“He’s dead.” Rocky looked at the ground. “After I left, I never saw him again.” He pedaled off on his bicycle, made a U-turn and rode by Preston. “You can lick this. You can end up better than me.”

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