"Yes, but he's her father, and he has a way of hurting her. So she does this to hurt him back, hurt herself. It never stops. None of it!"

Cain frowned. He sat forward. "What is going on with her, Bonnie?"

"Gerald Wellington is the one who stole her spirit. He knew her long before she met you. We lost her then, all of us, including you, Cain. She'll never be my little girl again," Bonnie wept.

All the heated exchanges and steely glances his wife had with the rich Wellington snot made sense. He stood. "Bonnie. Bonnie?"

His mother in-law pulled away a Kleenex and wiped her tears. She looked up.

"Are you saying Gerald hurt her?"

"She said he raped her. But we didn't believe her. She was so young. And he was such a good boy. It was a hard story to believe. We never spoke of it again after that night. h.e.l.l, after the Senator and her father cleared it up, the kids started dating again. She and Gerald were the talk of the town. We all thought they'd be together. And then she went to college and she brought you home. I couldn't believe it at first. I should have known there was something wrong. Andrew was furious. He wanted a marriage between Maryanne and Gerald. He kept him around you two. I'm tennis buds with his mother. We all pretend, but we all knew there was something off between Maryanne and Gerald. I buried my guilt in my alcohol. And Andrew... well he just buried the incident period. Look at her. It destroyed her."

"Jesus Christ," Cain said through short breaths. His chest felt like it would cave in.

"She needs you." Bonnie stood. "Can't you see that now? She really needs you."

"She needs to be away from you. That's what she needs!" Cain said.

"Cain?"

He didn't stop, couldn't stop. He pushed out of the door and into the hall. There was only one person he needed to see.

Simone dropped her purse and her keys. She stepped out of her shoes, leaving them near the door. Walking through the dark silent house, she went to the twin's room first. It was empty. Simone backtracked, stopping at Kim's door. She eased it open to peek inside.

Diane lay in bed. One of the boys was on her chest in nothing but his pull up and the other at her side sucking hard on his pacifier. In bed with them were empty Capri Suns, a half eaten bag of cookies, and an opened bag of Cheeto-puffs. The TV cast the room in a blue glow. On the screen danced a DVD message to eject the movie. Simone loved her family.

"You home, sweetie?" Diane yawned, just as she turned off the television.

"Yeah, looks like I missed the party."

"It worked, they sleep, little bad a.s.ses," Diane said shifting the toddler off her to put him to her left. She fixed the covers over them both.

"Get some sleep, Ma. I'll take the other room."

"Did you have a good time with your friend?" Diane asked, her lids falling shut and her words half-m.u.f.fled by her head returning to the pillow. Simone nodded that she did. "Joan's coming over tomorrow. She wants to meet you."

"That's nice," Diane said and then was sleep again.

Simone eased the door shut. As she went back through the dark house to the kitchen, she pa.s.sed her purse. Her phone buzzed inside. Simone retrieved it. It was Keith. She sighed, deciding not to answer, but did anyway.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"What the f.u.c.k is going on with you? Have you lost your f.u.c.king mind?" Keith snarled.

"Hi, Keith."

"I was at the airport for three f.u.c.king hours tonight. Waiting on you! I called and no one answered. Are you still in New York?"

Simone walked into the kitchen and sat the bags of chips on the counter. "You know I am," she said dryly.

"Got d.a.m.n it, Simone! I sent you a plane ticket."

"I never said I was coming and never asked you to buy a ticket I never promised you a thing."

"Cut the bulls.h.i.t! You knew you were supposed to come home. You did this s.h.i.t to get a rise out of me. Still playing the same f.u.c.king games, because it never ends with you! Now I got to come down there and drag your a.s.s home!"

"I have something for you, Keith. It'll be there in the morning. Oh, and by the way, I am home." She hung up, turned off the ringer on the phone in the kitchen and then made her way to the guest bedroom, undressing as she did. In the morning, he would be served. In the morning, her new life would begin. In the morning, she was going to start all over. Simone had a lot to look forward to in the morning.

Changing into her nightgown, she thought of Cain. Her eyes immediately shifted over to the laptop. She itched to call him, send him a message of some kind. But she didn't. Wherever he was, he knew. She'd have to trust in that. Then she froze. The calendar caught her eye. Simone walked over to it and stared at the date.

"Where's my period?"

"Mr. Gatlin, sir, please. I have asked you to leave."

"Where is he?" Cain stormed the Wellington mansion. The butler stumbled back, shocked. Cain headed for the spiral staircase, hurrying up them. "Gerald! Bring your a.s.s out here and face me! Now! Where the f.u.c.k are you?"

Cain's voice boomed through the lower, then the top levels as he stormed down the hall, familiar with where the b.a.s.t.a.r.d slept. The cowardly b.a.s.t.a.r.d stayed with his parents still. He saw Sarah Wellington come out of her room in her robe, followed by her senator husband. Both were too shocked at his sudden arrival to speak.

The Wellington home was familiar to Cain. He'd even slept under the same roof as the rapist, and all the while Maryanne never said a word. And Gerald Wellington was tormenting his wife.

He threw open Gerald's door. Gerald sat up in bed. Had he been cowering under the covers? Cain was on him in a flash. He grabbed Gerald by the neck dragging him out of the bed. He threw him on the floor. Got on him and started to pummel his face with his right fist. He didn't know what he said or how many times he hit him, because the rage he felt was all consuming.

Satisfaction was brief.

Cain was overpowered soon after. Police were called and he was taken away. The arrest was a blur too. The only evidence of violence was the blood on his shirt and knuckles. An hour in the station and he was released. The chief informed him that no charges would be pressed. The Wellington's claimed it was all a misunderstanding. The young Wellington was being treated by a family physician.

Castle Rock took care of their elite, always the same. Always. He later found himself back at the hospital, seated in the back of Andrew Hollingsworth's limo, staring out the tinted window at the empty parking lot.

Andrew was barely able to look him in the eye. Cain feared what a word between them at this point would unleash.

"I'm sorry," Andrew said.

Cain looked over at him in disbelief.

"I can't go back in. I suppose she wouldn't want to see me if I did. Tell her that I'm here. That we'll get past it."

"Will you get over her inability to give you an heir?" Cain asked, eyes narrowed on him in the shadows of the car. Andrew refused to see his daughter, because he had lost something even more important than her spirit or love for him. He lost his prize legacy.

"Tell her I'm sorry."

"Tell her yourself," Cain answered.

"Bonnie told you about Gerald Wellington? What Maryanne said he did? There are three sides of every story, Cain. You, of all people, should know that."

"Rape? There's only one side to a story of rape. You knew your daughter was wounded, and you wiped it clean. Just like you did for me tonight."

"Don't judge me, son. I love my daughter. She's a sick girl."

"I wonder why?"

"Listen to me. She needs you. It's evident that you love her. After tonight, I can believe it. We all can. I'm thankful for it. Let's just leave it at that."

Cain laughed. "Is that what you see? Me choking you and trying to crush Gerald's skull is an act of love? You are blind."

"We stick to our agreement. Don't push me, Cain. This is your only gift."

Cain looked up to see Bonnie step out of the hospital doors. He shook his head, deciding that Maryanne needed more than any of them. That's what he'd do for her, for them both. He threw open the car door, leaving Andrew to believe what he wanted. He pa.s.sed his mother in-law without a word, and returned to Maryanne's room. When he walked inside, his wife looked to him. He stared at her, and she looked away. Cain took a seat across from her to wait.

Chapter Thirty.

Heroes and Villains Keith Livingston/Cain Gatlin "Aren't you going to ask about the baby?"

From the furthest corner of the room, his voice came across in a broken whisper. His face, a shroud of shadows, rested in the palm of his right hand propped on the chair's edge by his elbow. His wife lay in bed, her body turned away. But she was awake. The sun would be up soon. He spent the past six hours in silence waiting for it. Watching, waiting, watching and waiting as she slept, woke, and slept more. Time was up. The things he had to say wouldn't be delayed another moment.

"I know you're awake, Maryanne."

"I lost the baby," came a soft reply. "My baby."

"Lost? No, sweetheart, you didn't lose the baby."

She turned over. The lamp above the bed showed a face streaked in fresh tears. "Let's not do this."

"Right, because nearly killing yourself to abort our kid isn't proper conversation."

"Don't," she groaned. "Please, not now. I need-"

"Why not? The baby's gone. I'm here. I plan to stay right here and mourn what's left of us with you. See to your needs. That's what you wanted, right? To rip out the last thread of love between us?"

She put her hand to her face, crying. He clenched his teeth as the sour knot of anger coiled tighter around his heart. "All we have now is the truth. Five years of hiding from the truth wasn't enough? You need another day?"

Maryanne sat up, her hair in her face, her eyes red and swollen shut. "Do you think I would harm our child? That I would do something that sick to our baby? I would never hurt your baby! I wanted your baby more than anything in the world!"

The sheer audacity of her words had him seething with rage. Cain leaned forward. It took him a moment to speak. "Do I think it? Is that what you asked me? Do I think it?"

He'd rehea.r.s.ed what he'd do for her and what he'd say, but, now, with her again lying to his face, he wanted to strangle her where she lay. "f.u.c.k it, babe. You're sick. You're sick and you need help. That's what we need to focus on, getting you well."

"I don't need help. I need my husband!"

"I'm here!"

"Are you?" she wept. "It doesn't matter. Not after I tell you the truth."

Cain wiped his hand down his face, weary of it all. "I'll call your parents and let them know you're up. Let's save the rest of this conversation for when you're stronger."

"You deserve the truth."

His eyes lifted to hers. The glimmer of sincerity in her weepy pair gave him pause. "I know about Gerald."

"No you don't. I, the baby, it, it wasn't yours," she confessed. "As much as I wanted it to be, it wasn't. I'm so sorry."

The truth was far worse than her lies. In a matter of seconds, she'd managed to split him in half. Cain dropped back down in his chair. He had been shocked, literally rocked to his core in the past twenty-four hours. Now this? "Not my baby?"

Maryanne closed her eyes. She seemed to shrink before him as her body sunk further under her bed sheets. She kept her eyes closed the entire time she spoke. "You can count. Maybe not now, because you haven't been paying attention to me lately, not the way you used to." She looked away and so did he. More truth. Their marriage would be filled with nothing but the truth now. Lies no longer had any meaning. "You barely see me now, Cain, but soon, eventually you'd start seeing me again. I know you won't believe me, but I was so happy. I thought it was yours. I wanted it to be. I stopped taking those pills two months ago. I did." Her voice trailed off. Maryanne sniffed back the tears, wiping at her cheeks. "You stopped sleeping with me. Nothing I did worked. Twice, you relented and made love to me, and neither was the right time. If you weren't so busy ignoring me, blaming me for Joseph, for your mother, for not being what you needed, you might have figured it out. I'm eight weeks pregnant. You were in Texas on business eight weeks ago."

"Who are you, Maryanne? Are you a victim? Misunderstood? What are you?" Cain asked.

"I don't know," Maryanne said sadly.

Cain clenched his fist. He spent a night mourning a kid that wasn't his? When did the lies begin and end between them? Was everything about her false? Did Gerald Wellington ever rape her?

"Whose baby is it?"

"I can't talk about that," she said.

"Who?" Cain shouted.

Maryanne turned away. "I won't talk about it," she said weakly.

He crossed the room, went to her bedside to face her. "Whose kid was it, d.a.m.n it?"

"It's not what you think," she wept. "He forced me. I swear. I swear it!" she kept repeating. Cain frowned. He stared at her for a long moment. The way she shivered and held herself. She didn't have to say it. She spared him the gory details, but the sick story came full circle.

"How long has it been going on?"

She shook her head no to the question.

Cain turned from the bed, his hands going back over his scalp. He had no clue who his wife was. He couldn't look at her, not just for what she'd done, what was done to her, but for all the ways he had failed her. All of this bulls.h.i.t between them went down on his watch. What did that say about him? He loved her once, more than he loved anything or anyone. She was his first love. Even now, part of him carried that love. To have this going on under his nose left him feeling sick, weak, and helpless. And there was a greater sin. Deep down he suspected. He knew Gerald fixated on his wife. He knew Maryanne kept secrets. And he did nothing to protect his marriage. Who the f.u.c.k was he in all of this?

Cain threw open the door with a shove of both hands. Maryanne didn't even call for him. Why would she? He hadn't comforted or protected her before. Why would she reach for him now?

He was out of the room, hands pressed flat to the wall across from her door, wheezing. His lungs felt as if they were weighted with led cast in iron. His eyes stung and bled tears. He hit the wall hard with his fist. It felt as if every bone in his hand splintered. Turning, he put his back against it and kept the world at bay. He succ.u.mbed as vertigo took hold and set his imposed balance into a spin. He waited for his world to stabilize once more. His hand dug deep into his front pocket. There, he retrieved his cell phone. He ran his thumb over the LG screen to summon her number, but he stopped from dialing. What would he call and say to Simone? His wife was f.u.c.king her rapist to punish herself? She was pregnant by her rapist? His baby wasn't his baby? Oh by the way, there was a baby he hadn't mentioned.

"f.u.c.k!" he groaned. He needed Simone desperately. The soft soothing sound of her voice and the caring and understanding in her pretty brown eyes would calm his rage. He wanted to curl up into her bosom and inhale her scent. Have her say she loved him again and she understood him. Forgive him of all his sins and give him a fresh start. One more chance to get it right. Their affair was the only good thing in his life.

"Sir? Are you okay?" A nurse, young, and brunette stood before him. Cain hadn't realized he was crying until he saw the look of concern on the woman's face. He forced his phone back down into his pants pocket and returned to his wife. What he needed no longer mattered. Not anymore.

Maryanne sat on the side of the bed. Her head bowed. When she spoke, he clenched his fist against his own internal conflict, but he stood there and listened. "He forced me, Cain. He threatened me constantly. I know it's sick, I know it makes no sense to you. How could it? He's my nightmare. Gerald Wellington and I have lived this nightmare since long before I met you." She looked up. Her eyes were void of anything recognizable. "I knew if I told you, you wouldn't believe me. The day you left for Texas to work on the Keemler account, he showed up at my house. Daddy probably told him about your trip. Doesn't matter. We argued, and I tried to force him to leave. It happened. Again, and again, it happened. I hate myself so much. I hate you, Cain. I hate Daddy. I hate all of you so much deep down inside and I'm tired of pretending that I don't." Maryanne sucked in a deep breath and released it. "You deserve to know this, and I need to say it. When the doctor gave me the conception date, I knew immediately. I even convinced myself I could pretend it was yours. But I didn't want his f.u.c.king baby inside of me!" she shouted. "I couldn't go through with it. I figured I'd miscarry and it would be over." Maryanne put her hands to her now barren abdomen, closing her eyes. "It was my baby, no matter what. It was mine and I tried to stop myself, but sometimes I can't."