Underestimated Part 41

"I hope so. I want Derik to go away. I need for Derik to go away."

"Derik Hastings," he asked.

I don't f.u.c.king know.

"The Derik that seems to always be around. Yes."

"Did he do something to upset you? Derik has been around almost as long as Drew has. I'm sure that whatever it was, a good old talking to from me would do the trick."

"He raped me," I blurted out. I didn't want him to have a talking to. I wanted him dead. The line was silent. I wasn't sure if he hung up or not.

"Does Drew know about this? When did this happen?"

"It's been a while ago before I went to Florence. I just remembered yesterday, and no, Drew doesn't know, and I would like to keep it that way for now. I am home alone, and I am afraid that he is coming here."

"Get Sal and Dillon over to the mansion... Now!

Tell them I will call them on their way and to hurry." I heard him say to someone. I relaxed a little. I didn't know why, but for some reason this man would take care of me.

"Thank you," I said and I meant it.

"I think that you should stay on the phone with me until they arrive," he a.s.sured me.

"I can't right now, but, I'm fine now. I promise. I just need him to go away."

"Oh, don't you worry about that. He is going away.

You'll never have to worry about Derik again. Do you need some help, I mean like, coping or whatever it is that you do when you go through something like that?" he asked concerned.

I smiled. I had been raped so many times I couldn't even count them. "No. I'm fine Mr. Callaway."

My intuitions were right. Drew called Derik. I had to put my hand on my shaking knee to stop it or settle it anyway. I couldn't seem to stop the trembling going on in my body. I heard the door slam. I didn't think it had been long enough for the two men to show up, not that I knew where they were coming from. It could be hours before they got there.

"You little wh.o.r.e," Derik yelled with a look that I knew could kill me dead right there on the spot.

"What did I tell you about entering my house without knocking?" I said with my finger shaking on the trigger from my lap.

"You f.u.c.king little c.u.n.t, I'll...."

"You'll do what, Derik? Rape me again?" I asked, pulling the gun from my lap, and stopping him in his tracks.

"You're not going to ruin this for me," he demanded. "I have almost ten years of my life invested in this money. I will f.u.c.king kill you."

"No. No. Derik. I don't think so." I couldn't believe how cool my voice sounded. I sure wasn't feeling cool. I was shaking like leaf. "Do you really think that I won't pull this trigger?" I asked. I knew that I didn't have to c.o.c.k the gun. The old man at the p.a.w.n shop had already told me that it was ready. I only did it to add a little bit of excitement to my show, kind of like putting an exclamation mark behind it.

"You don't have the guts, you little p.u.s.s.y."

I could have shot him in the chest. I didn't know how to shoot a gun. I pulled the trigger and grazed his left arm. "Don't f.u.c.k with me," I said feeling, extremely c.o.c.ky all of a sudden. "Have a seat."

His eyes were huge. Did I mention that it was priceless? He stumbled back, holding his arm and sat down.

I saw him debating on whether or not to lunge at me when my eyes darted and I jumped, startled from the ringing desk phone. I kept the gun pointed right at his head while I picked it up.

"h.e.l.lo," I answered, having a pretty good sense of who it was.

"Morgan, please," I heard Drew's voice.

"I'm sorry, Drew. I can't talk to you at the moment.

I'm a little busy, waiting for your friend to be picked up."

That look was priceless too.

I hung up and then removed the phone from the receiver when it rang again.

It was a good thing that I had the gun. I was sure that the ten minutes for the two men to come and retrieve Derik would have given him plenty of time to stop my heart beat.

They too entered without knocking. Derik looked to them confused while I laid the gun down on the desk, still pointing at him.

"Let's go, Derik," the enormously, huge balled man said.

"Me? Get her the f.u.c.k out of here. She's the psycho one," he demanded, still holding his arm.

The other big man with black as coal hair grabbed him by his suit jacket and yanked him up, shoving him out the door. I almost felt bad for the terrified look on his face. No. not really.

"If you need anything else, you call this number,"

the bald man said, handing me his card.

"Thank you," I smiled, taking the card.

I hadn't realized that I had stopped breathing until I was once again alone. I sucked in every last bit of air from that room.

Now to take care of Drew. I was running on pure adrenalin. I could feel the blood dry up in my veins and the adrenalin was the only thing keeping me alive.

If only I knew where Drew was, He could have been anywhere. I was sure he was in the air somewhere. I just wasn't sure where. Was he an hour away, two, four, six? I had no clue. Why the h.e.l.l hadn't I asked more questions last night? Oh, yeah, because my brain was overloaded and I couldn't think straight. I still couldn't think straight. What was I going to do when he got there?

I sat in the same spot for an hour and forty minutes with my thoughts a scrambled mess. I went from one memory to another. There were so many of them. It's the weirdest thing in the world to not know who you are or remember things that happened to you. It's even weirder to have them all come surging back like a lightning strike. I finally got up, taking my pistol with me.

I walked toward the north corridor and knew exactly why I had avoided that side of the mansion. I wouldn't even do my therapy in that room. I didn't know why at the time. I just knew that I couldn't go in there.

I opened the steel door to the still empty gym and looked straight across the room at my reflection in the mirror. I didn't know who I was looking at. It was like looking into the eyes of a ghost without a soul. I was empty.

I looked over to the padded bench, and the memories once again flooded my awareness. I felt everything Drew had done to me in that room. I felt the shame, the humiliation, the hurt and the neglect when the steel door would close, and I would be left alone in silence for days.

I dropped to my knees and sobbed. I cried for the little girl who lived in poverty. I cried for the girl whose little brother was ripped from her arms. I cried for the girl whose mother deserted her. I cried for the girl whose father sold her to a monster. I cried for Starlight and Lauren. I cried for the only man who had ever truly loved me, and I cried for the girl that was having a hard time believing that Drew was capable of what he had done.

"Morgan," I heard Drew, quietly say from behind me.

I didn't move. I stayed on my knees and kept my hands on my lap, covering the gun.

"Do you think it's still Stockholm syndrome when you fall in love with the Drew that you didn't know?" I asked.

"Morgan, please give me time to explain," he pleaded.

I saw him step toward me through the mirror. I spun around and came to my feet. I pointed the gun right at his head.

"Explain what, Drew? Explain how I remember every last thing that you ever did to me? Explain how you used me for your own personal toy or would you like to explain why you used me for your own personal punching bag?" The tears were falling. I knew they were, but I was too shook up to control them. I couldn't hold my husband at gunpoint and think about that too.

"Morgan. Put the G.o.d d.a.m.n gun down and talk to me," he yelled in the tone that I remember scaring the h.e.l.l out of me at one time. The thing was, it didn't scare me anymore. It p.i.s.sed me off.

"Back up!" I yelled. I wasn't intimidated by his over aggressive demeanor anymore. I was Charlie's Angels, Cagney and Lacey, GI Jane, okay, so I watched a lot of television. It was all that I had to do when I was a prisoner in this house.

"Morgan, it doesn't have to be this way. Haven't I let you come and go as you please?"

That p.i.s.sed me off even more. "You let me? f.u.c.k you! I don't need you to let me do s.h.i.+t."

"I didn't mean it that way. Please, put the gun down. Where is Derik?"

I knew he had sent him to settle me down.

"Don't underestimate me. I shot him." Well, I did.

It just barely sc.r.a.ped his arm, but I did shoot him.

"Morgan, I am so sorry. Please let me tell you the whole story. I love you."

"Back up!" I yelled again, when he tried to walk toward me. He took a step back, and I told him to keep going until he was in the far side of the room. I walked toward the door with the gun pointed right at his forehead.

I barely got the steel door locked when he crashed into it. I jumped, but knew he wasn't getting out of that room until I let him out. I slid down the door, sinking to the floor. I just knew that my heart was going to beat right out of my chest and be lying on the floor in front of me at any second. I thought I was having an adrenaline rush before, but this was ridiculous.

I walked back to Drew's office and logged onto his computer. I remembered the first pa.s.sword with ease, but when I clicked the icon for the cameras, I had to try three different ones, but finally got it. I clicked on the gym camera and just like magic. There he was. He had removed his jacket and tie, and was pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his too long hair. I told him a week ago that he needed a haircut.

Okay, I could see and hear him. How did I make him hear me? Was there a b.u.t.ton somewhere? Where was the microphone? I looked around the desk for something to make him hear me. I couldn't find anything. I knew there was a way. He had talked to me when I was locked in there. No, he didn't talk to me. He made me preform for him. I should make the b.a.s.t.a.r.d take all of his clothes off and do the same to him. I saw the little microphone in the corner of the screen and clicked it.

"h.e.l.lo," well, that sounded stupid. I watched him look right into the camera.

"Morgan, open the door. You're not thinking straight."

"Have a seat, Drew. You're going to be there a while."

"I can't f.u.c.king be here a while. I have work to do."

"No. No. You don't. The only thing that you need to worry about is starving to death. How many days do you think it will take? I've heard that it can be anywhere from three days to six weeks. Did you eat today, Drew?"

Wow, I was crazy.

"Morgan, what do you want from me?"

"I want answers. I want to know why you brought me here. I'm not buying the whole I wanted a virgin to train anymore. You didn't just pick a poverty stricken town and pick me. I want to know why?"

I watched Drew sit on the bench and run his hands through his hair. He took a deep breath and looked right at me.

d.a.m.nit, don't look at me like that...

"Mr. Callaway sent me there to get you."

"Why?" I had a hunch that he had something to do with it. He was too concerned about me.

Drew took another deep breath. He didn't want to tell me.

"Tell me, Drew" I coaxed.

"I have known Randle since I was thirteen. His son was going to marry my mom before he got cancer."

"Yeah."

"I would have inherited it all, millions of dollars.

When Michael was on his death bed, losing his battle after six long years, he told Randle about you."

"What about me?"

"Michael Callaway was your father."

"What? How could that be? My father is Gary Willow."

"No, he isn't Morgan. Remember when I came to your school. We were sitting on the bleacher, and I picked a piece of fuzz from your sweater?"

I did remember that. "Yes, so?"

"It wasn't fuzz. It was a hair. You are no doubt a Callaway."

I needed time to process again. What the h.e.l.l? I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that.

"What do you buying me have to do with any of that?"

"Randle Callaway had a stroke three days after he buried his son. He was in bad shape. When I went to see him in the hospital and give him the DNA results he cried.

He knew from the many pictures that I had taken how you lived. He felt horrible and changed his will the next day, leaving you every last penny. I was p.i.s.sed. I was to step into that role, not some stupid hillbilly from West Virginia."

"I'm not a stupid hillbilly."

Drew snorted and looked up to me again. "No.

You're not, Morgan. You're a very strong independent, beautiful woman."

"Stop. Finish telling me how I ended up gracing your presence." I didn't want to hear compliments from Drew Kelley at the time.