Rachel From the Edge

Rachel From the Edge Pt. 04

by G. Lawrence

A stubborn young woman is more than she seems

After her billionaire boyfriend died on top of her during bondage sex, Rachel Montgomery became a national joke, was fired from her job by his ex-wife, and grew critically ill, ready to die in her seedy downtown apartment. But Daniel Benson's daughter, a student nurse, was brought in to care for her, and Rachel's life is about to change forever.

* * * * * *

Chapter Four

ON THE WARPATH

The bedroom was dark when Rory crept in with a bowl of chicken soup. Rachel wasn't sleeping, just lying still. Except for an occasional cough, she made few sounds. Rory sat on the bed wearing a comfortable lavender leisure suit instead of her nursing outfit.

"Dinner time," she whispered.

"Thank you. I'm not hungry," Rachel mumbled without rolling over.

"You need to eat."

"No, I don't."

"Look at me."

"I'm okay, Miss Benson. Please go away."

"Don't make me force-feed you, because I will."

Rachel rolled over. She'd been crying. A lot. When Rory realized Rachel was still shivering, she texted her mother's chauffeur. Bring electric blankets. Be quick!

"Keeping you hydrated is a chore," Rory said, giving her water.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said.

"You sure apologize a lot. Are you really that bad?"

"Everyone says I am."

"I don't. And I don't want you to think I do. Understand?"

"Yes, Miss Benson," Rachel said, tasting a spoonful.

"I know, it's good soup," Rory said. "Homemade. I found it in your refrigerator. Do you have a neighbor who likes to cook?"

Rachel didn't say anything, but sipped a little more. Then she laid down. Rory made her sit back up.

"You don't get off that easy," Rory insisted.

Rory waited until she finished the soup before confronting an uncomfortable situation.

"You don't need to stay here. I can take you to the clinic," she offered.

"I would rather die in my own bed," Rachel said.

"You're not going to die. I won't let you."

Rachel sighed, sounding disappointed. Rory took a look around. The sparse room felt claustrophobic. Like a prison cell. And Rachel was the prisoner, at her mother's insistence. She noticed Rachel still shivering and climbed into the bed, snuggling to keep her warm. Rachel wasn't wearing any clothes. Her T-shirt had gotten so soaked with cold sweat that she'd taken it off.

"Is this okay?" Rory asked.

"Is what okay?"

"Me, here with you. You know I'm gay, right?"

"Daniel told me."

"I'm not trying to take advantage of you."

"That would make you the exception."

"Did my father take advantage of you?"

"I'm a grown woman. I don't make excuses."

Rachel started to roll over, but Rory wouldn't let her.

"You need to talk to me. Don't lay here all day in silence."

"It doesn't matter."

"You're not dumb. Let's just talk. Please."

"About what?"

"Were you into bondage before you met my father?"

"Oh, God no. Never."

"Can you tell me about it? I'm sorry, I know it's a bad subject, but I'm really curious. I'm trying to understand."

"There is nothing to understand."

"These things the bloggers are posting make him sound depraved. Especially the way he died. I never saw that side of him."

"You shouldn't believe badly of your father. It's not what you think."

"Then explain."

"It's personal," Rachel responded.

"You're laying naked next to me in bed with my arms wrapped around you. I'd say we've already gotten personal."

Rachel still felt cold. Scary cold. Rory wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to share body heat.

"All right, but you've been warned," Rachel said. "And after, I want you to go. I'm okay. Promise to leave me alone."

"I'll think about it," Rory answered.

Rachel gazed toward the window. Though it was night outside, lights from across the alley filtered into the room. Rachel asked if Rory would draw the blind.

"Please turn off the lamp, too," Rachel requested.

Rory turned the switch and climbed back into bed. Rachel's skin felt clammy. Rory rubbed her arms and legs, trying to get the circulation going. Rachel rolled on her side facing the wall.

"I was forced to run away from home when I was thirteen," Rachel said, so softly that Rory pressed closer to hear. "My father ... It was bad. I was put in a foster home. Their son was in the army. He raped me. I was fifteen. After that, he would sleep with me whenever he came home on leave. One day he tried to ... I fought back, and woke up in a hospital. That was the highlight of my sex life until I met Daniel.

"I knew what Daniel wanted. The same as the boys at Harvard. The strange big-eyed girl who looked like an easy score. I dated a boy I liked. I thought he liked me. After we slept together, he told everyone I was a robot. They thought it was funny."

"That's horrible," Rory said, trying to bunch the blankets tighter. They should have been keeping Rachel warm, but they weren't. She noticed Rachel's tone had changed, as if she was speaking from very far away. Almost like she was in a trance.

"Halfway through my senior year, my father was dying. Brain cancer. My mother was sick. Debts took their house away, so I dropped out of school to help them. How pathetic is that?"

"It was very generous of you. And loving."

"It was stupid. Professor Borowski told Mr. Mendelson that I was doing promising work, so he flew out to interview me. Daniel offered me a signing bonus. My father died. Mom was diagnosed with dementia. I was desperate. The way your father looked at me was obvious, but I wasn't looking to sleep with the boss. I set up my lab and tried not to alienate my co-workers. I can be ... introverted at times. Most people take it the wrong way. I managed to keep Daniel at arm's length, for a time, but he was persistent. Always polite. Always charming. Always a gentleman. He would come to my lab and visit, or take me out to lunch."

"But you weren't dating?"

"No. But then Daniel learned I didn't own a car. I didn't have the money or a driver's license, so I took the bus. On a rainy day, he insisted on driving me home. Then he insisted on seeing my apartment. When he saw it was half the size of his living room, he insisted I get a new place. He would pay for it. But I like my apartment. It's mine."

Rachel stopped talking. She seemed to be remembering.

"Are you getting tired?" Rory asked.

"I'm always tired."

"Tell me a little more. Please."

"My dress was wet. I only owned two business outfits, so I needed to take care of it. Daniel offered to buy me more, but I said no thank you. Then he cornered me and said he wanted to sleep with me. He'd been after me for a year. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, and I did find him attractive. Even though he was thirty-eight years older than me. I should say it was a terrible mistake, but I can't. My mind was filled with equations all the time. The numbers were unrelenting. It was an awful life. Daniel's attention had become my only bright spot. The only thing that kept me engaged."

Rory wanted to ask what Rachel meant. Equations? Numbers? But she was finally opening up. This wasn't the time to distract her.

"I told him to wait in the bedroom, with the lights off, and took off my clothes in the bathroom," Rachel said, still facing the wall. "When I started to go into the bedroom, he was already in bed, but the alley lights were coming through the window, so I ran back. I didn't want him to see me without my clothes on. I wouldn't return until he closed the blinds."

"Are you really that shy?" Rory asked.

"Oh, gosh. At Palmdale High, I tried showering in my swimsuit until the coach caught me. The girls teased me all the time. Samantha stole my towel as I came out of the shower and I hid under a bench until everyone went away. The floor was dirty."

"The body is a natural thing, you know. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Especially you. Any girl would die for a figure like yours."

"I get so embarrassed. Daniel indulged me. We had a pleasant evening together. Much better than I would have expected with an older man."

"Dad played football at Yale. He liked tennis, and skiing. Keeping in shape was important to him."

"He was a powerful man," Rachel wistfully agreed. "We started meeting after work at my place once a week, but he really hated my apartment. He kept asking me to spend weekends with him at Canby Place, but I was scared."

"He wasn't mistreating you, was he?"

"No. But he was so rich. Everyone talked about his big house on the mountain, with its gardens and a pool. That was no place for someone like me."

"Like you?"

"A poor lab girl scrimping to pay her mother's medical bills. People would say I slept with him for money. It just didn't seem right, but he finally got me there after work on a Friday. It was so beautiful. So grand. Like a palace." Rachel was crying again. And coughing. Rory rubbed her shoulder.

"Canby Place is nice, but it's no palace," Rory said.

"It was a palace to me. He taught me to play tennis. Shoot hoops. We went swimming. He wanted me to go skinny dipping, but I said no, so he found me a suit. I kept a beach towel around me most of the time. His housekeeper had the weekends off, so I made dinner. What a great kitchen. Everything a cook could ever want."

"You made the food in the refrigerator, didn't you? I ate your beef stew. And the sweet potato pie. It was great."

"I was a short-order cook during my year in high school. Melvin's Eatery, out on Route 14. The staff didn't like me, they said I was too bossy, but everyone liked the food."

"Year in high school? One year?"

"I had ... lost a lot of time. When I turned sixteen, I went out on my own to finish school, but I was already a year behind. I managed to squeeze two years of work into one."

"You worked and went to school? I saw your grades. 4.0 GPA."

"It was hard," Rachel conceded, resting her head on Rory's arm.

Rory felt Rachel slowly relaxing. She didn't seem quite as cold as before. Maybe talking about these memories helped.

"Daniel's bedroom has those big windows," Rachel continued. "And there aren't any curtains, so he could see the ocean whenever he wanted. I refused to sleep with him until the sun went down, and then I crept in the room with the lights off. He enjoyed having me in his own bed at last, but I was nervous. I just felt so out of place."

"A lot of people say you schemed to get there," Rory reluctantly mentioned. "Stalking your prey to his lair. My Mom says that a lot."

"I didn't feel like a stalker. The next morning, I got up early to make breakfast. I love making breakfast. The numbers leave me alone when I'm in the kitchen. Daniel wasn't up yet, so it would be a surprise. But then I panicked. I got out through the side gate, ran down the road to the bus stop, and headed for home. With all the transfers, it took three hours. When I got back to my apartment, Daniel was waiting for me. He was angry. He said he'd been worried. He wanted an explanation, and I didn't have one.

"He took me to lunch at La Boucherie, bought an expensive bottle of wine, and drove me back to Canby Place. Daniel was still mad but trying to understand. I wasn't running out on him. I don't think. It was just so overwhelming."

Rachel needed to pause. She started coughing. Rory made her drink more water.

"Is that when he did it? Took your clothes off and tied you up?"

"Oh, no. Daniel wouldn't have thought that was any fun. We went swimming. I made omelets for dinner, using the ingredients I'd almost wasted that morning, and then we watched a movie in the living room. He snuggled with me the whole time."

"Pride and Prejudice?"

"No, I couldn't be that mean to him. About ten, he said it was time to turn in. He turned off the lights and waited while I changed in the bathroom. I ran to the bed because a few traces of light were coming in from the backyard. He hugged me, and kissed me, and said that even though I had worried him terribly, everything was going to be okay. Then he raised my arm to the headboard and tied a rope around my wrist."

"Just like that?" Rory asked.

"I was really surprised, tugging hard, but Daniel knew what he was doing. Then he said he wanted to tie me up, and asked if it was okay. He promised not to hurt me. I didn't want to make him mad again, so I said yes. He got very excited, tied my other wrist, and then jumped out of bed. He reached under the sheet, found my ankle, and tied it to the footboard. And then the other one. I struggled, but I couldn't move. It was a very strange feeling. Not unpleasant, just strange. I felt safe with Daniel, in the dark. And then he turned the lights on. They were so bright.

"Daniel laid on the bed next to me. He was wearing brown pajamas with black stripes that made him look like a lion. I asked him to please turn the lights off, but he said no. He was smiling like a mischievous little boy. He said it was cute that I was so shy, but those days were over. Then he got up and took hold of the covers. I looked at him desperately, hoping he wouldn't, but he tore the covers off the bed anyway. I was laying there in front of him, completely naked. Unable to move. It was terribly humiliating. My whole body was flushing."

Rory felt Rachel's reaction. She had pulled her knees up, as if attempting to cover herself. Her arms were crossed over her chest, fists clenched.

"I've been bathing you every day. Am I embarrassing you?" Rory asked.

"Yes, but not that much. You should have seen me at the hospital. I was shameless."

"When were you in a hospital?" Rory asked.

"After they found me, on the lawn, an ambulance took me to the emergency center. All I had to wear was a blanket, and I wanted to leave. I threw the blanket on the floor and threatened to go home like that."

"Would you?"

"Oh, god, no. It was already too mortifying. But they gave me clothes, and Midge loaned me bus fare. I still need to pay her back."

"You were already sick. You should have stayed and gotten treatment."

"Miss Benson, if I stayed, the press would have found me. They would have asked terrible questions, and took my picture. They would have used me to make fun of your father. I couldn't let that happen."

"But you got sick. Really sick."

Rachel nearly said more, but thought better of it.

"Daniel kept me on the bed for an hour. Kissing me. Caressing me. He knew what he was doing, and it was driving me crazy. The more I struggled, the more eager he became. I never believed Daniel would hurt me, but he was very determined. By the time he finally got on top of me, I was caught up in a world of new sensations. I had never ... well, you know. Never had a man make that happen to me.

"After, he rolled over and asked me how it was. I couldn't lie. It was wonderful. I felt calm, and at peace. More than I had in a very long time. And the numbers were gone. For a while."

Rachel sighed. She had melted into Rory's arms, snuggling like a warm kitten. And then she fell asleep. Rory went to the door when Sam arrived with the electric blankets.

"How is she doing?" the chauffeur asked.

"Better now," Rory said. "I guess confession really is good for the soul."

* * * * * *

"John won't be flying in until Saturday," Pamela said. "The funeral is Sunday morning."

"Why did you wait two weeks?" Oliver asked, sitting next to her desk going through legal papers.

"There's no hurry. The body isn't going stale. What's this Cameron-Dyson case that's got everyone excited?"

"You must have read about it. There was a big write-up in the Wall Street Journal."

"Of course, but I don't understand it. How was M & B involved?"

"Danny provided the last-minute evidence that won the case for Steinberg. His clients were awarded a billion-dollar judgement."

"And so?"

"Pammy, Dyson claimed there were no overseas ledgers. Everyone thought they'd been destroyed to avoid discovery. So, when Danny suddenly produced them, it turned the case around. The whole industry took notice. M & B's commission was eighty-five million dollars."

"No wonder the quarterly reports look so good. The staff must be happy with their bonuses."

"Not everyone got the bonus they deserved," Oliver said.

Pamela looked out her 12th floor office window toward the Pacific Ocean. The blue sky was scattered with gray clouds. The marina was busy with yachts and fishing boats, as it often was in the late afternoons.

"Have you heard from Rory lately?" Pamela asked.

"Not for a few days. She's still over on 14th Street."

"The tramp didn't die after all?"

"Lucky for you."

"What do you mean by that?" Pamela asked, turning to face him.

"It's best we drop the subject. Are you still shutting the research lab down?"

"No point in keeping it. No one has a clue how the damn thing works. Do you think we should keep funding it?"

"I guess not. The program is dead, under the circumstances."

"You weren't just Danny's lawyer, you're the company's lawyer. What are you not telling me?"

"There's no point in telling you something you don't want to hear. Let's drop it."

Pamela's executive secretary appeared at the door, looking flustered.

"Rory is here. She looks mad," Keisha said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lincoln. Please send her in," Pamela said, going to stand behind her cluttered desk.

Rory stormed into the office that had belonged to her father twelve days before. Though she occasionally wore her nursing outfit during the day, now she was dressed in a sharp blue business suit with a purple scarf that set off her short red hair. Her makeup was more meticulous than usual. Oliver went to greet her, but was shoved back.

"Where are the papers altering the will?" Rory demanded.

Oliver went to Pamela's desk, shuffled through some folders, and found the envelope.

"All set to go," Oliver said. "This will transfer Miss Montgomery's rights to you, Johnny, and Billy."

"These papers don't speak for me. You don't speak for me," Rory said.

She tore the envelope in half, and then in half again, throwing the pieces in the waste basket.

"Ro, what's this all about?" Oliver asked.

"What mother's done doesn't surprise me. She's been mad at the world ever since she caught Dad in bed with Sheba. But you've disappointed me, Ollie. Really, really disappointed."

"Sit for a minute. Tell me what this is all about," Oliver said, fetching her a cup of coffee.

Rory looked at the clock before going to the door.

"Mrs. Lincoln, please tell everybody to take the rest of the day off," Rory said. "They should leave now. You, too. I want everyone out of this office."

It didn't take a lot of coaxing, forty employees quickly heading for the elevators. Rory sat in the corner drinking her coffee, looking at her mother with daggers. Pamela appeared unshaken. Oliver wished he could leave. When the last employee had cleared out, Rory set the coffee cup aside and stood up.

"I'll be meeting with Johnny. I want him to represent Rachel. A lawyer who won't sell her out," Rory said, glancing at Oliver.

"You're turning against your own family? For Daniel's plaything?" Pamela said. "This is what's always worried me about you turning gay. Has the little harlot seduced you, too?"

"I'd love to punch you in the face right now, mother, but I didn't bring my First Aid kit," Rory said.

Oliver decided to stand between them. Probably not necessary, but it couldn't hurt. He took off his jacket, throwing it across a chair, in case he needed to referee.

"You've been nursing the whore for a week. It's not unusual to have sympathy for a sick dog," Pamela said.

Rory started for her, but was blocked by Oliver. She calmed down.

"Enough of your lies, mother. It's bad enough the media is crucifying that poor woman, there was no reason for you to pile on, too. What's your real game?"