Beauty From Pain: For Such A Time, #2

Chapter 1

Blinding lights swirled in a hypnotic rhythm, enough to confuse the most level-headed attendee.

Dominic McCrae didn’t understand why they needed so many strobe lights and so much heavy music at his mother’s birthday party. Yet the woman had insisted. His mother wasn’t so old, he supposed. The lights and music made her feel younger. Or so she said.

The trendy decorations, though expensive, were a far cry from the classic elegance of the party Lynette McCrae had thrown just last week. A party to celebrate his engagement to Vanessa Torres, daughter of a business magnate from New Jersey.

At twenty-seven years old, Dominic's father had begun to push him to find a favorable marriage. To settle down instead of playing the field with women, as Dominic usually did. Vanessa seemed as suitable as any other debutante and beauty queen thrown his way.

In fact, he actually kind of liked her. Oh, sure, he thought she was manipulative and overly flirty in the beginning, but she had grown on him. Any man in his right mind would be happy to have the attention of a girl as gorgeous as Vanessa.

Yet, something still seemed... off. His gut instincts never failed him, and they had screamed red flags on many occasions around Vanessa.

Like the night he asked her to marry him. He had prepared everything, made it utterly romantic. The way he knew she wanted it. She had said yes, but she hadn’t been as thrilled as Dominic thought she should be.

Dominic didn’t mind letting her plan the entire wedding, but he would like to have some say in it. Since Vanessa laid everything out perfectly with storyboards and magazine clippings, Dominic could clearly envision their wedding day.

It was everything that came after that worried him.

Dominic maneuvered his way around the perimeter of the dance floor.

His mother had cultivated a nice conglomeration of the who’s who of the rich and famous. Business managers, real estate developers, singers, musicians, and movie stars flitted around the garden. The ones who partied often gyrated with partners or strangers. When it came to dancing, most of these people weren’t picky.

Alcohol flowed freely from a bar at the far end, as though any of these people needed to get drunk to have fun.

Then again...

Dominic looked down at the drink in his hand. He felt a little guilty joining them in their drunken revelry, considering how many times he and one of the security team members had spoken of God and faith. Of course, Dominic had never bought into all that, but it could be nice to have a backup plan in case things fell apart.

He caught sight of his father and mother, standing together by the bar. His father’s arms wrapped around his mother’s waist in a tender embrace.

These were the moments that twisted his gut. He couldn’t imagine that sweet, tender look in Vanessa’s eyes. He couldn’t imagine holding her and kissing away her fears. Vanessa didn’t get scared, and she always got what she wanted. Try as he might, Dominic couldn’t imagine life after the wedding.

Where had Vanessa gotten off to, anyway? He had told her they needed to talk. When would she listen to him for once, instead of brushing him off?

Dominic sighed, figuring Vanessa had probably gone off to talk to Jonston Yates, her favorite movie star. Dominic might as well forget talking to her tonight.

Dominic, darling! His mother extended an arm in his direction, breaking away from his father’s arms.

Would he ever have this precious moment of familial love? He didn’t know if Vanessa had it in her.

Mother. Dominic took her hands in his and granted her their customary greeting of cheek kisses. You look exceptional this evening.

Thank you, Lynette McCrae's laughter rose in the night air and cut through some odd chord in the music. But we both know you’re obligated to say that.

Yes, but I mean it. Dominic’s smile widened. Just because I’m a dutiful son, it doesn’t mean I’ll lie to my mother’s face. She taught me better manners than that.

Well, I should hope so. Where’s that fiancee of yours? his mother looked around as though Vanessa might be right behind Dominic’s broad shoulders.

Dominic shook his head. I was about to ask you the same thing.

His mother should know better. Vanessa never stuck by his side long at these functions, only enough to make an appearance as a couple. Then she moved on to socializing.

Lynette glanced behind her, catching his father in one of those gazes he knew they often shared. They could say anything with just a look. Dominic wished he had that ability.

So... have you seen her? Dominic asked in hopes of drawing his mother’s attention back to him.

Not since a few dances ago. She came to say her hello. his mother’s lips pursed.

Dominic sighed. He knew what she thought of Vanessa, but his mother had been the one to introduce them in the first place. She and his father expected this marriage.

I’ll find her, I’m sure. Thank you.

He never wanted to disappoint his parents, but lately his mother had seemed more and more disappointed with the girl he chose.

Dominic held in his heavy sigh and kissed his mother’s hand. Enjoy your night. I’m going to retire.

Without finding Vanessa? his father asked.

Dominic pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, not bothering to hide his frustration. Yes. Without finding Vanessa. I’m sure she’s off gallivanting.

He had let his father pressure him into marriage, Dominic wasn’t about to let his father dictate how he treated his future bride. Vanessa could take care of herself. She didn’t need him.

He couldn’t stand the thought of a lecture from his father, so Dominic turned on his heel and stormed away. His father could think what he would. Dominic's relationship with Vanessa wasn’t like his parents’ relationship.

Despite what he told his mother, Dominic didn’t want to sleep yet. Too many emotions boiled together in his head. In a cold bed with only his thoughts for company, he wouldn’t rest well, anyway. He needed to do something. Something besides partying and throwing around fake smiles.

Maybe a movie would distract him.

Dominic felt lighter, somehow, as he made his way through the dark and empty house.

The second-floor theater room sat in the opposite wing from his bedroom, but close enough he wouldn’t have to walk multiple flights of stairs to get back bed. Yes, maybe a good comedy would cheer him up.

Strange. Was that light seeping from under the theater door? This was a private wing. No one should be up here.

Dominic frowned as he pushed the door open. Everything seemed to slow down. Seconds ticked by like minutes.

Benton Bradley, his closest and oldest friend, sat relaxed on one of the comfortable couches spread throughout the room.

It didn’t surprise him that Ben brought a girl up here to make out, Ben was as much heathen as Dominic. The surprise came when Dominic realized the girl in Ben’s arms was none other than Vanessa Torres. And that both of them were in varied states of disarray.

Something flashed red in Dominic’s vision.

Both turned to look at him, shock on one face and regret on the other. Without words, Dominic knew what—who—brought them here. As well as where it had been headed.

Get out. The words rumbled from his chest in a desperate growl.

Dom, I can explain— Ben started as he scrambled from the couch.

Dominic met Ben's remorseful gaze with one of his own. No, Ben. Just get out.

Ben nodded. He knew better than to argue with Dominic when he got like this. Benton scurried for the door, pushing past Dominic with a muffled apology.

Dominic’s gaze landed on Vanessa. Was that a smug smile he saw tug at her lips? He should have known better. Should have seen the signs. The funny thing was, Dominic had started to make room in his heart for her, despite their differences.

You, too, Dominic commanded. Get your things and get out of this house before sunrise.

He turned to go. There was nothing more to say.

Dommy! Vanessa’s voice grated on him. Dommy... baby... wait! She caught his arm and tugged him back around. It didn’t mean anything, me and Ben. I’m a little drunk and—

Look me in the eye. Dominic stood stock still, waiting for her to show him regret. For her to tell him it hadn’t been what it looked like, that she really was drunk.

Vanessa's eyes met his, clear and sparking with mischief and anger. No remorse. No sadness. She knew exactly what she was doing.

You’re not drunk. Dominic shook out of her grasp. You never were. You knew exactly what you were doing and you did it anyway.

Oh, please, like it’s that much of a betrayal. He started this. Why aren’t you mad at him?

I am. He’s not my fiancee. Dominic took a breath and forced his voice to remain calm.

Dominic wanted to shake her, to ask why she would throw their relationship away for one night of fun. She professed to be some sort of Christian. Catholic or Protestant or something. Shouldn’t she have morals? He should have seen this coming. She flirted too often, let her eyes wander. He never should have asked her to marry him. Her, or any other woman for that matter.

Vanessa shoved a long, pointed fingernail in his chest. You need me. We’re meant to be together. You asked me to marry you.

The biggest mistake of my life.

We already made promises. I already bought a dress!

Dominic took another step back, his voice steely and cold. Detached. No, Vanessa. I bought a dress for you. All you’ve done since we met is spend my money to buy your things. I’m done. Get out.

He turned and retreated from the wing. He may never be able to enter it again. Vanessa humiliated him more than any girl ever had, made a joke of their vows before a word had ever been spoken.

Red sparked and flashed in Dominic's vision. His fists clenched at his sides, and his jaw throbbed from the pressure of gritted teeth.

He needed to get out, to cool down. His father would insist he take a security agent with him if he left the premises. Dominic mentally flipped through the list as his irate ex-fiancee shouted after him.

Vanessa’s cries and threats fell on deaf ears.

Morgan Silverman, that’s who he would take. The man may be religious, but he knew how to keep his business to himself and not ask questions. Dominic needed a man who wouldn’t ask questions right now.

Dominic shot off a text requesting Morgan's presence in the garage. A fast car and a country road. That would erase the images.

If only that lie were true.

HADASSAH PACED THE apartment living room, one thumb nail held between her teeth.

Josh, one of two men permanently assigned to her security detail, watched her from the couch. She didn’t know why he insisted on reading a celebrity gossip rag, but there it was in his hands.

Do you think he’ll at least listen? she asked him.

Josh had good advice, and Hadassah cherished his input on matters concerning Morgan’s moods.

Josh licked a finger and flipped a page. He always listens.

He doesn’t hear. The nail went back between her teeth. Her pacing resumed.

You didn’t ask if he would hear. You asked if he would listen. Josh flipped another page with gusto. For some reason, he seemed calm instead of alert. His finger stilled. Ruh-roh.

His Scooby-Doo references got old, but the way he said that had Hadassah instantly on edge.

Uh-oh? What’s uh-oh?

Anniversary of a disappearance.

She knew she didn’t have to ask aloud. Josh knew her too well, knew her quick wit and curiosity better than anyone except Morgan and Stephen. Not that she knew anyone else. She’d practically been a hermit since she was five.

Hadassah raised an eyebrow, asking the silent question she knew he would hear loud and clear.

Josh sighed and flipped the page around for her to see. Yours.

Breath fled for a long second. There on the page, staring back at her, lay a picture of her mother and father. A dark-headed little girl sat between them. Fidgeting, she knew. Because that little girl used to be her.

They looked so happy together, the three of them against the world. She could have been anyone, done anything. She could have seen the world. Gone to college, if she wanted. Found love.

That little girl didn’t exist anymore. She had been happy and carefree, ready to take on the world and save it. The world had shown her not everyone could be saved.

Everyone always told her to hold on to Jesus. Let him fill the holes. Hadassah tried, so hard it hurt sometimes, but a dull ache remained.

Some holes were bigger than others and, although she had Morgan, the hole her parents left inside her was huge. She didn’t belong, not really. Like an outsider, Hadassah always looked in at loving families and close relationships like an orphan in a Dickens’ novel.

You are an orphan, she reminded herself. No parents, no siblings, just friends. Though friends were nice and filled some of her loneliness, she knew there had to be more. She could feel freedom just out of reach, but couldn’t quite grasp it.

Yet another reason she and Morgan needed to have this talk today.

Don’t show him that, she demanded. Please. It will only strengthen his resolve.

Josh nodded. He knew Morgan as well as she did, probably better. He was there when it all started, the day Morgan got the first note. Josh knew Morgan’s panic and the reasons behind everything Morgan did.

Hadassah wished she knew her cousin on that level, but theirs had always been more of a father/daughter relationship. Adoptive, but tight-knit. He kept things from her only if he thought they’d hurt her to know.

He thought an awful lot of things hurt.

A key rattled in the lock.

Josh jumped from the couch. He took a protective step in front of Hadassah, always alert to the fact someone could break in if they tried hard enough.

Hadassah knew everything the guards did was to protect her, but it got old. Fast. No notes in years. They should have come down from red alert by now. Unless Morgan knew something she didn’t.

Morgan took one step into the room, looking weary and worn. His lips twitched into an almost-smile.

Just me, Josh. At ease.

The joke originated from before Hadassah could remember. Morgan had always said that to Josh, commanding him to act less militant, she supposed.

Josh nodded and snapped his magazine open, directing long strides for the kitchen. More than likely to give her the space she had asked for. Space to talk to Morgan openly and freely.

Gulp.

Hadassah? Morgan shut the door and deposited his jacket on a hook nearby. What are you doing up so early?

What are you doing home so late? she threw back.

His employer’s wife’s party should have ended hours ago, and she knew for a fact they dismissed him from duty shortly thereafter. He definitely should have been home before five forty-five in the morning.

Morgan sighed and ran a hand down his face. I know I should have come home on time. I know. Mr. McCrae’s son needed a sounding board.

You know, for a thirty-five-year-old, you’re not very responsible when it comes to keeping your ward updated. Hadassah folded her arms over her chest.

He could have at least sent a text. She worried when he didn’t show up on time, especially with the job he held so dearly. He couldn’t have picked something less dangerous?

Can we do this later? I’m beat. Morgan started for his bedroom.

Hadassah resisted the urge to stomp a foot. No, we cannot. I have a demand.

That stopped Morgan in his tracks. Hadassah never made demands, she asked questions. When Morgan said no, and meant no, Hadassah usually took him at his word and didn’t push the subject. She knew he must think she’d lost her marbles.

In slow motion, Morgan turned back to her and raised an eyebrow.

Have a seat. Hadassah motioned to the couch with one long-fingered hand.

No, I think I’d rather stand for this one. Morgan watched her with a curious gaze.

A steadying breath did nothing to calm her nerves. Hadassah folded her hands together to keep them from shaking. She hated asking for things she knew he would argue about.

It’s been four years since we’ve heard anything from mom and dad’s killer. He could be dead or out of the country... none of that matters. Hadassah shook her head. She had to stay on task, say only what needed to be said. The point is, I don’t understand why we’re still on red alert all the time. I’m willing to compromise. This had gone much better in her head.

Morgan folded his arms and leaned against a wall. What kind of compromise are we talking about?

The park is less than one block from here and no one knows what I look like. I want one hour, early morning, just me and the park.

How about one hour with security. Morgan raised an eyebrow.

She knew Morgan thought her ridiculous, but he didn’t know how important it was to her. One hour, all to herself. No prying eyes or security measures. She never had that. A cocoon encompassed Hadassah's entire life. One hour would not kill or injure any of them.

How about no? Hadassah met Morgan's level gaze with one of her own. When she wanted, she could be stubborn. She might be shy, even a little socially backward, but she knew what she wanted. I’m only asking for one measly hour.

An hour is an eternity in the security world, princess.

Don’t call me that right now! Normally, she wouldn’t mind the nickname, but when he used it during an argument it felt patronizing. One stinking hour, Morgan. One twenty-fourth of a day. It’s nothing. Give me air!

Morgan’s jaw worked back and forth.

Hadassah had seen the look before. The look he got before he told her something she didn’t want to hear.

When he did speak, his voice was quiet, reserved. What if you have a panic attack and no one’s there to help you?

She hadn’t thought of that.

I... I have a phone, she offered as her resolve wavered.

She needed that one hour of freedom. One hour all to herself, no testosterone around. Men swarmed around her day and night. Hadassah needed one hour a day to just be.

Would you remember to use it?

No. Of course. Hadassah wrung her hands.

She hadn’t panicked in over a year. As long as she steered clear of vehicles and other triggers, she should be good.

Though, she never knew what might trigger the attack. Anything had potential. Maybe this had been a bad idea, after all. Still...

I want some space, Morgan. Hadassah held her breath, waiting for the no.

Compromise, Morgan threw out suddenly. "Security