Unbound: The Pentagon Group, Book 2 (24 page)

After lunch, Carolina and Eduardo escorted me to the spa to be taken care of by his stylist. After a couple of hours of grooming, I left the spa looking like a brand new man. I left behind Matt Keene, and returned to looking like Dr. Mathias Keene; a man I hadn’t seen in a couple of years since before my first marriage ended. I shaved away the beard Perla once asked me not to shave because she loved to rub her cheek on the coarse hair. The hair Perla used to clutch as I tasted her was cut tight to my scalp. I went to Spain as a broken, disheveled man, and I was returning to Boston a man determined to protect and win back his woman.

My discharge from the hospital was not comforting. At the hospital, I felt protected. I was checked on often by nurses and doctors, and I didn’t fear another kidnapping attempt. The knowledge of my captor on the loose left me anxious and scared because he knew my home address. The biggest concern was the captor’s motive. The only people who had it out for me were the Pentagon men. Chelsea kept me company at the hospital the whole night. She made me feel like we were having a grown up sleepover. She brought a few magazines and books. I tried to keep her cheered up, making jokes and reminiscing about our youth. She’d been in a sad mood ever since I woke up from my nap.

Chelsea drove me home on Route One when I asked her to take me to the mall in Saugus. I wanted to go to a big box store for some technology. I was excited to purchase a laptop, a tablet and a current smartphone with my same telephone number. The saleswoman informed me how I could program the tablet and the smartphone to provide the laptop with internet capability. I was happy to get home with my new toys. I’d never spent so much money on technology in my life. Succumbing to trends was out of my character.

I was too tired to go clothes shopping. Knowing I had plenty of appropriate clothes for the remainder of the week, I decided there was plenty of time to shop for dresses and ready to mix and match tops and bottoms. Chelsea took me home. I retrieved my mail, and found the large manila envelope with copies of my contract, employment letter, and human resources paperwork I needed to fill out and submit on my first day of work.

Chelsea wanted to stay and help me, but I shooed her out of my apartment and sent her home to be with her husband. She wouldn’t be comfortable staying in my place. It would’ve been nice to convalesce with someone staying with me. I missed not having Matt around. I knew he would take amazing care of me. I resigned myself to forever being alone, and the notion made me weep. How could I trust another man? The only man I could trust was my father, but with his advanced age, he wouldn’t be able to be there for me for much longer. When it came to love of a partner, I was a failure.

‘Shit. I miss him.’ I sobbed out, dropping my head in my hands. My head hurt, checking the time to see if I could take a pain killer. I had an hour until I could take more meds. I could’ve asked Matt to assist me with pain medication dosages and time line. I wanted to see him. Even a picture would’ve satisfied my need to connect. I lay in bed and turned on my new tablet, searching for his picture was in order. I hadn’t looked up his picture since my discovery and research of Pentagon. There were so many images of him in various settings and different ages. At the time, I couldn’t appreciate seeing him with his four friends sitting on the lawn of their school, or the picture of them graduating from boarding school. There was a picture of Matt with jet black hair and bare faced. He looked so young and handsome, like a model for a preppy clothing company. I wondered when he’d decided to grow out his hair and beard.

An online search of Dr. Mathias Keene produced hundreds of pictures. Scrolling through the images, the first dozen pictures were professional headshots for his medical practice. Pictures of him under Pentagon headings were mixed in. The ones which stole my breath were pictures of him in social settings . . . with his ex-wife. I could barely breathe. She was stunning. I made the mistake of looking at each picture, reading each caption, and comparing myself to her. She may have been a lovely woman, but in the moment, I despised her.

Sonia Carrion Keene had it all; a handsome husband, who practiced medicine, rich beyond her wildest dreams, and beauty which made men melt into a puddle of mush. Her long blonde hair cascaded along her creamy, slender shoulder. She stood beside Matt, smiling wide and baring her perfect white teeth. However, he looked stern and serious, much like the man I met in the examination room. Sonia’s bright blue eyes were captured flawlessly by the light. In heels, she was a few inches shorter than Matt. All I could focus on were her impeccably symmetrical facial features. She was a classic beauty, similar to the lead actresses in an Alfred Hitchcock film.

‘Why me?’ I asked. I really hadn’t asked the question before because I wasn’t curious about Sonia. Wanting Matt was the only thing on my mind, but since he was out of the picture, I questioned every fragment of time we spent together. If he wasn’t interested, a man wouldn’t continue fucking a woman for months after obtaining what he’d used her for. Even weeks after my last sexual encounter with Matt, I could still feel his desire for me. His fingertips still prickled my skin, gliding over my inner thighs to part them. ‘He fuckin’ wanted me.’ I exhaled, and nodded adamantly.

I lightly pressed my finger to his picture, sliding it along his jawline. My eyes welled with tears and my heart burned with ache. I loved touching his lips, running my thumb on the bottom lip as he flicked his tongue on the pad of my finger. He’d pretend to try to bite my thumb. Even through sorrow, I could still smile at the sweet memories of our time together. The nagging feeling it was all a lie invaded momentarily, and passed. The image onscreen moved, awakening me from my reveries.

The nagging urge to call him infiltrated my mind. I just wanted to hear his deep voice. Instead, I searched for a video of him; any recording of his voice and image would do. I shrieked with glee when I found an interview he filmed a year ago for a sports program asking him about the recovery of a local college basketball player. My heart skipped a beat and my pussy creamed at the sight of him. My body quivered in response to the stimuli of his virtual presence.

When the video was over, I felt satisfied. The act of watching him online wouldn’t be good for me to move forward, but it gave me instant gratification during those lonely periods of time. I set the tablet on my nightstand and plugged it in to charge. I heated some soup I found in my freezer.

As I ate, a thought came to mind. ‘How would I handle meeting with him regularly?’ I didn’t know what I would do. Not seeing him in person for two weeks had been difficult, but freed me from the emotional rollercoaster I’d been on. I did wonder if he was in town or if he had gone to Europe, as was expected. I dared not ask any of his friends where he was. My mental faculties didn’t allow for a subtle inquiry into Matt’s whereabouts or how he was doing. It was no longer any of my business. I made sure of it when I kept his shares and revealed the sex tape Brady blackmailed me with.

I had no plan of how to get out of this crazy mess. The kidnapping made me hyper aware that I’d made many people despise me enough to cause me harm. Losing everything in my divorce to Ben, left me stagnant financially and professionally, but it also left me emotionally crippled and mistrusting. I felt no other option, but to turn the tables on Brady and accept the shares and use the sex tape as leverage to keep the gift. When the opportunities to regain my financial independence and expand my career options were placed in my hands, I had to take the best option for me. My desire for an chance to prove myself in corporate America and make money for the present and save for the future overshadowed my love for Matt. I was sure I beat Matt to the punch of ending our relationship before he realized he truly wasn’t in love with me.

*****

I was awoken by the sound of my phone ringing. I missed the call, and groggily tried to retrieve it when I heard the buzzer for my door. My stomach leapt. It took me a while to figure out who could be furiously pressing the buzzer. I slowly got up from bed. I pressed the speaker and greeted with a “hello?”

“Perlz, it’s me Carson. I’m here to pick you up for dance.” I’d forgotten to tell Turner to pass a message to Carson I couldn’t go to practice.

“Oh, Carson. I’m sorry. I forgot to call. I’m sick.”

“What? Let me up.” He demanded. I didn’t want him to see me like this, but I had no choice. I buzzed him in and waited with my front door open until he climbed the steps.

When he approached, I saw his face change from serene to panic, and I felt gutted I hadn’t informed him. Chelsea was right, I was wrong to keep things from family and friends. He rushed up the stairs and stretched his hands to hold my face, inspecting the small cuts and scratches around my left side.

“What the hell happened?” It was time to be honest with him, revealing every detail. As I told the story, I saw his facial expressions change from sadness to anger, and then I saw guilt.

“You should’ve gone home with me. This is my fault.” He charged.

“No. It was random. I was lucky. Just some cuts and bruises. My ribs hurt, but nothing is broken.” I confirmed. He lifted my gown. “Carson!” Ignoring me, he looked at my ribs, which had turned a purple color all along my side. He let the gown fall and cried. I’d not seen him cry in pain ever.

“You’re coming home with me. I’ll take care of you. Pack some things.”

“I don’t want the kids to see my like this.” I tried to reject him, but he wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“We’ll explain it as a car accident, which could’ve been worse, but your commitment to at least showing up will help them know your dedication. Are you up to it?” I nodded. I packed a weekend bag, and tucked my tablet and phone in a large purse. I left my laptop on my little dining table. I changed quickly into loose comfortable clothing. I made a loose braid to my left side, trying to hide the worst cuts and bruises. A little dab of tinted lip gloss and I was ready to go.

Carson grabbed my bag and we walked down and out to the van. I greeted the students, explaining I had been in a minor car accident and would observe today because nothing would keep me away from our duty to the young students. They clapped for me, which melted my heart, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. We made our way to practice in silence, so much needed to be revealed to Carson, but in private. When we greeted the Lawrence students, I informed them I would observe because of my injuries. I don’t know if it was seeing me in that condition and knowing I was sitting there with a concussion, but the students danced with a vigor we’d never seen before. I commented to them about their passion. I asked them to dance like that for us each week and most especially, at our performance in three weeks. They all agreed with a round of applause. We ate our pizza, cheese-less for me, and chatted. Most of the students came up to me and offered me speedy recovery and well wishes.

I was exhausted by the time we made it back to Carson’s apartment at the Sheldrake. Carson put me to bed because I was extremely fatigued. He brought me water for my pain pill. The last time I slept in his guest bed was the night I confronted the Pentagon group with the sex tape.

“I have to tell you something.” I said to Carson.

“Later. You need your rest. I’m going to cook us a nice dinner. When you wake up, we can talk.” He kissed my forehead and left, closing the door behind him. I napped for several hours, awakening when I felt the urge to go to the bathroom.

When I finished, I walked to the kitchen and found both Carson and Turner. Upon seeing me in my state, Turner gasped audibly. I smiled in reassurance that I was fine.

“I’m fine. Seriously. I don’t even think about it.” He took me in his arms. I didn’t have to explain. Carson filled him in on the sordid details. He kissed me lightly on the top of my head.

“You’re going to stay here as long as you need to get better. You shouldn’t have been alone last night.” I nodded.

“Are you hungry?” Carson asked.

“Yes. What did you make?” I asked. He informed me he made chicken breasts with roasted carrots and salad. Carson was a great cook, and I was excited to eat a fresh home cooked meal.

When we were half way through the meal, I summoned the courage to reveal everything to my two saviors. I explained about Brady’s blackmail with the sex tape and how I turned it around to blackmail the men. I apologized for not telling them sooner, but Chelsea had made me see the error of my ways by keeping things secret. I explained I didn’t tell her, and requested it not leave the table.

“I’m only telling you two because if anything should happen to me, I’m under the belief it has to do with Pentagon.” Carson and Turner each gripped one of my hands.

“I did this for several reasons. First, I don’t appreciate any man controlling my future. Brady wasn’t going to get away with controlling my life.” I paused to compose my other thoughts.

“Second, I did this to get back at Pentagon. Liberty was to be my property, and they took it away from me. I couldn’t take another setback. Duration was a dead end job. I didn’t have Liberty anymore. An executive position at Pentagon was my only other option. It would challenge me and offer me an experience which I wouldn’t normally have access to because of my lack of career experience or educational credentials.” The men nodded in agreement.

“Getting to the bottom of why Brady wants Matt’s shares is another reason. I figure if I can get closer to each of them, I can learn more about their history which caused Brady to threaten their lifelong friendship.” Finally, I revealed, “I also need to know how I play into the whole equation. I feel like I’m at the center of this whole clusterfuck, and I don’t know why. Brady is the key to the information.”

“I need your help Turner. I have documents I want to leave with you for my protection. I have the documents Eric Pierce gave me about Pentagon. It’s communication between everyone at Pentagon about Parisi and Liberty, and conversations between Brady and Aida which could be used to implicate him . . . maybe to her untimely death.”

“I hope you don’t judge me too harshly for how I’ve handled this. I have a hard time letting people in because I’ve always felt like I can take care of everything on my own. I had to take care of my mother. Even when we had help for her, I took over as much as I could because she was my responsibility. I was so alone for so long I couldn’t change my behavior even when I met people willing to share the burden.” My voice quivered and tears streamed down my face.