Awkward Church Games Pt. 07

It's been some time since I attempted to complete this story, I had a difficult time tying the story together in such a way that it would answer your desires and interests. I wrote this story four times, becoming frustrated and upset that i couldn't find the right tempo, before I finally found a story line that made sense and that I accepted. For those of you who don't enjoy my work, don't read it. For those of you who do enjoy my work, I hope you enjoy this ending. I took advice from others on the previous chapter and found myself in a difficult position, how to end the series in a way I hoped would explain things and that those of you who enjoy my work, would find exciting and carefully crafted.. I hope you enjoy it as well.

*****

Part VII "The Last chapter"

I was struggling, a fist in my face. Someone pulling my hair. I can't breathe. Gunshots. Screaming. I awoke to a face looking down at me. A face above me. "It's okay. Don't' struggle. You're safe," a woman said. "It's only a nightmare. You're in a hospital. It's okay, Cindy. You're safe," she repeated.

It was only then that I realized she was telling the truth. There were numerous medical staff and off to one side, a police officer standing with his hands on his belt. I remembered. The people raping me, the ropes, my escape attempt. Then the window, screaming, something hitting my face, a gun or pole or something. I couldn't see out my right eye. The cops charging in. I saw Doug. Now, I was here. Where was here? The town hospital? It must be. Where was my family?

A commotion in the hallway, some television people, cameras. Who were they trying to see? Oh my God, me. They were trying to see me! The cop pushing them out. Yelling, flashing lights. I grew dizzy. A man standing over me telling me to relax. My eyes closed. Darkness.

I awoke in a hospital and with my eyes half open, well one eye, the other was almost swollen shut from the beating I took, I noticed someone sitting in a chair near me. I thought it was Art, but as I opened my eyes, I realized something was attached to my face, a breathing mask. Not sure what was going on, I began to struggle when the figure stood and moved to my bed. It was a nurse.

"How are you doing, dear?" She asked. The breathing mask made it almost impossible to talk so I raised one hand and wavered it, trying to let her know that I was better but not great. She seemed to understand and continued. "There are two men here to see you, one of them is a cop, the other is your husband," she said with a smile. I nodded, and the nurse walked to the room door, opening it.

Art was here, damn both good and bad. I remembered my last contact with him, and it made me sad and a bit angry. I wondered what he would say. I looked at the door as a cop, I didn't know, walked into the room looking at me. "I'm Detective O'Callon" he started off. "I'm guessing you know why I'm here."

I tried to give him a weak smile in response. "I suppose Doug sent you," I responded though my voice was badly muffled by the mask. "I'd like to speak to him first."

"No. Officer Doug Stanton was involved in a traffic stop last night. I'm afraid it was a bad incident. That's all I can tell you and now about that, it's still being investigated. I'm here to let you to know we busted most of the people who were involved with your kidnapping."

Even in my shocked thoughts, I processed the word 'most'. "You didn't get them all? And how is Doug?" I started crying immediately, pulling off my breathing mask. "What's going on? Is he okay?"

Detective O'Callon ignored my questions and finished his spiel, ending with, "And because of this, there will be a guard posted outside your room while you're here, possibly longer," he said haltingly, making me think there was something more he wasn't saying.

"Please leave," I said, doing my best to hold my tears, not just because of Art, but they stung my eye, the one with the bandages.

O'Callon looked at me a second before speaking, "I'll send your husband in now," he said, as he closed his notebook and started to head out. It was strange, we were in the 21st Century and this cop was still using a notepad like the 1960's reruns of Dragnet I had seen when I was a kid.

Seconds later, Art came quickly into the room.

He ran to my bed and hugged me. There were tears in his eyes. Good, he deserved it. Because of him, I was upset and not aware of my surroundings. He was having an affair with his worker. Okay, so I really couldn't blame him for that, we were both guilty there. There was Bryan, the man who bought me at the church auction in the hopes to raise money for the church and was supposed to be innocent fun but turned into a sexual encounter that rocked my world. I still loved my husband, but Bryan brought me to bliss several times. Then there was Officer Doug Stanton, the man who I encountered when checking on Art and the man who saved my life, not once, but twice. The man who might be in serious trouble now, or dead. I didn't know. Damn, I just wished the stupid detective hadn't said anything. I couldn't ask Art. Maybe Amber. That's it. I would ask her when I had the chance. For now, I had to deal with Art.

"I'm glad you're here," I managed to get the words out. My voice was getting a bit stronger now.

Art raised his head and looked at me. "I'm sorry honey. I really am. It's just that after I learned some of the things you did with that guy who bought you. I just got angry," he said.

"You started this," I muttered, knowing he would understand how the church auction to make money had started this. "What do you know?" I asked quietly.

"Not much, but it's easy to see that he means to you than me, sometimes," he said, looking me in the eye. That got to me. He was right. I hadn't meant to mention Bryan again, but then Art got involved with his employee and I guess I let things slip. Now, it was time to come clean.

"We were both wrong, so let's set the record straight. You first, tell me all," I got out.

He looked at me carefully studying my face. "Fine. There have been three," he said boldly.

Even in my hurting state, I was shocked. "Three?" Was all I could stammer.

"You know about Anne, of course. Then there was a girl named Amber. No, no, no. Not our neighbor," he said quickly when he saw my anguish, thinking it was my best friend. "Another Amber. I met her a month after we had Richard," he responded. Somehow hearing it was another woman didn't help things. Then there was one more. Her name I can't remember. That's it."

"You can't or won't?" I asked him

"I'm bearing my sole now, no reason to hide it. If I could remember I'd tell you. That's it. Your turn," he said to me, taking the seat next to the bed, the one the nurse was using.

It was still hard to talk, so I kept it simple "Bryan and a cop named Stanton," I said, suddenly worried about the face he made.

"Doug Stanton, the cop who was killed last night?"

I laid there, my shock betraying me fear and anguish. "What? How?"

"Some drunk plowed into him after he had pulled a different car over. The crash killed both Stanton and the driver of the other car. Killed them quick. The drunk got off without even a scratch. The cop is the other one, huh? Bastard," he said quietly, but I heard it.

"Careful. He rescued me from those animals," I just about hissed. I wanted to say more, like how I hadn't said anything bad about his indiscretions, and it wasn't just because I was having trouble talking, I was doing my best to be civil and I hoped he noticed it.

I reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "We're both wrong. Let's stop and get back to being a family," I managed to whisper loud enough for him to hear.

I saw a tear form in his eye, and he nodded. I realized we had been lucky. Art and I had a chance to make things right. It would hurt Bryan, I was sure, but I had my children to think about as well as the well being of my husband and myself. We would be starting new, well new once I got out of here and allowed my body to recover.

Art and I held hands and talked from there, simply talked. We even shared a laugh of two at some of the things we had experienced together. Then a knock at the door and a police officer stuck his head in. "Two people saying they're your parents are requesting to come inside. Were you expecting them?"

"No, but of course they can come in to see us," Bryan said.

I grabbed his arm. "Be safe, let him check them out first," I told him. To this Art just gave me a strange look, like I was crazy or something.

"But they're your parents. Who else would they be?" He was totally confused.

The officer answered for me. "Sir, I know you're her husband, but you were briefed earlier. They might be her parents, but what if they're posing as her parents to gain access to the room? The people who took your wife are still at large and everyone knows she's here. That's why I was posted here, to keep her safe," he said to Art. Then he looked at me. "Ma'am, what are their names?"

"Margret and Philip," I responded, and the officer nodded before ducking his head back. Seconds later two people entered, both of whom I had seen before, but they weren't my parents. Even with the makeup to make them appear older, I saw their eyes, Lucinda and Malcolm, the two who had tortured me and gotten away, were now only steps away. A lot happened in the next moment, Art yelled out that they were imposters and the cop immediately drew his weapon as the woman pulled a pistol out but was gunned down. Malcolm advanced toward me only to be tackled by Art who stepped in front of me and charged at Malcolm. There was suddenly gunfire, the cop dropping the female and Art tackling the man who had pulled out large knife.

Art might be older and a bit out of shape, but the man had played football all throughout high school and he tackled the man before me. In a blur of motion, Art managed to knock the weapon back before pummeling the man with blows, mercilessly pounding him until the cop ordered him to stop. Art fell back, dropping to a sitting position on the floor and breathing hard. He looked at me, a look of awe on his face as I was crying for him. I saw him sitting there staring at the man he had stopped until he looked down at the spreading blood mark on his shirt as he slid back to the floor. The cop called for assistance and in no time a large number of nurses and doctors were congregating on him.

I struggled to my feet, pulling the cords and IV fluid from my body in my haste to reach him. I managed to grab his hand as a nurse ripped open his shirt and applied a bandage to the deep stab wound in his abdomen. He looked past her at me and smiled at me before orderlies came in and placed him on a stretcher and wheeled him to surgery.

Well if you're going to get stabbed, the best place for it to happen is a hospital and the staff raced him into the operating room immediately. I watched as he was wheeled out, doing my best to keep up, but in my weakened and battered condition, it was impossible and I collapsed in the corridor, crying, not even aware that several reporters were snapping photos of me on the floor, or one female reporter just about jammed a microphone into my mouth, asking me how I was feeling. It was all too much and I collapsed.

~~~~~

I began to recover in my room, well our room now as Art was in the bed next to mine. Every day there were different people, our kids, Amber and Chris, Art and my parents, and then lawyers. Oh, and cops, there were always cops, and the press, they were always outside the room, especially when the Mayor stopped by. Every time I walked out of the room it seemed like the number of people interested in talking to us grew and it wasn't just local news stations, rather big names like CNN or FOX News, hell even the Rolling Stone Magazine. Rolling Stone, Really? The cops did a rather good job of keeping the news hounds at bay, while allowing or kids access, but each time that door opened, I could hear media personnel who wanted information so badly they would shout questions or try and interview our kids as they came to visit.

On my fourth day in the hospital, I was released finally. I had thirty-six stitches in my head, four more above my right eye, sixteen in my hand and nine in my arm. I also had two broken ribs and a concussion, all in all, not a bad trade for my freedom. Art had been released the day before me since he had only a single knife wound and lacerations to his knuckles on both hands. Malcolm, on the other hand, had lost three teeth, suffered a fractured jaw and major concussion; his partner Lucinda had been gunned down by the police officer, whom everyone hailed as a hero. Maybe, but Art was the one who prevented Malcolm from reaching me. I still had to face the bastard in court, which I dreaded, but that was life.

The day I was released was almost like a town parade. Amber picked me up, we had hoped by her coming to get me instead of Art, it might confuse the press. Nope. They lined the street around the hospital, and it took a cop car leading and one following to allow us to get out of the town proper and back to our home where more cops were blocking the road and keeping the curious at bay.

Now home and alone with my kids and Art, it was almost like a let-down in a way. The terror and excitement of the past week were now only a memory and Art and I were doing well, though twice since we had been home, the phone rang, and no one was there. Art didn't display any emotion when I hung up, so I was hoping he was keeping his word and avoiding his girlfriend as I was avoiding Bryan. Things seemed to go along better after that, until one night three weeks later.

Opening the mail one day, I found an invitation to a local charity event that wanted Art and myself to be featured and both of us were to be honored; me for having the tenacity to find a way to escape my bonds and attract the police to my location; Art for defending me and taking down my attacker even after he had been wounded. A list of important people would be there, the press of course and there was talk of the Governor showing.

Amber agreed to watch the kids while Art and I dressed up and headed out. I told Art not to have too much to drink, but he didn't listen, and he was slurring his words before the dinner even began. After this was the presentation to us and some calls for a speech, but I wasn't in the mood and Art was three sheets to the wind, so I politely declined for us saying speeches were for politicians, I smiled and gave an exaggerated wink at the Mayor as I said that and the whole place broke into laughter. That done, I saw Art wander away with a friend of his and as I sat there alone, a familiar voice spoke out behind me.

"You look ravishing tonight," Bryan said. I turned around to face him so quickly, I spilled my drink. "See, a simple compliment and you lose control."

"Thanks for that. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with you," I said, holding my eyes down. "It's just that Art and I, well, we're trying to patch things up. You know, get on with our lives. Things were just out of control before everything happened," I told him as gingerly as I could. "Why are you here?"

"I'm a business owner in this town and have a little say in some things, so I was invited. And Cindy, you don't owe me an apology about anything, our paths simply crossed, and I feel I was the better for it. In such a short time, I learned so much about myself and honestly," he leaned closer to my ear, "you were the best lover I ever had," he stood up. "I mean that. Art's a lucky guy. By the way, where is Hero number two anyway?"

Bryan was truly a classy guy, whether he meant what he said or not, he took away any guilt I had. I looked around for Art and couldn't see him anywhere, so I began to check the other places, asking Bryan to tag along with me. Being alone still bothered me and made my skin crawl, so having Bryan with me made me feel so much more at ease. We walked through the event, me meeting people and talking and explaining how Bryan was there to help me. We kept seeing people until we had searched almost the whole place and then Bryan said, "He's not in this building. He wouldn't have left?"

I looked around. "We didn't check the kitchen, but once again, no Art. I stated to get worried until I heard the giggles coming from the kitchen exterior exit. Bryan and I walked out and sure enough there was a shit-faced Art, back into a corner near the doorway, but somewhat out of sight. It was still light enough to see him kissing Anne, his hands running over her chest. I stood there with Bryan, neither of us saying anything and I was pissed. I started filming them for a few minutes before I finally got bored and just as Art pulled out his junk, I threw a stick that hit him in the back of the head. He turned to look at me and I told him in no uncertain terms to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Thankfully, Bryan had moved out of sight and stood there looking at me as I re-entered the building. "Did you really throw a stick at him?" He asked me.

"It wasn't a big stick, but Art is so drunk he wouldn't have felt it if I had thrown a big one," I retorted. "Listen, I need to clear my head and decide what I'm going to do with the drunk ass when he gets home," I said to him.

"You told him to find somewhere else to sleep. Remember?"

"I remember, but Art is so drunk, I'm not sure he will, and I want to be ready if he does. He broke our deal and I'm really angry. I'd join you for coffee tomorrow, but I promised my best friend that we'd go shopping for pregnancy clothes," I said disgustedly.

"Know what, why don't you bring her along to my place, even the kids if you want," he said with a genuine smile.

"The kids. Damn, Art was supposed to watch them tomorrow. Well, tell you what, if my friend is up to it, you'll see us in the late morning," I replied, smiling back at him. "It might be an interesting experience, if you think you're up for it. If plans changed, I'll give you a call."

Bryan just laughed and as we were walking to the car, he grabbed me and said, "Well if your husband can play this game, so can I," and with that he kissed me. Except for my ribs, I was feeling back in form and I responded to his kiss with a little energy of my own. When we broke apart, we both laughed and headed out separately to our cars. I left Art behind.

Art did show up, late in the morning, drunk as usual and he stumbled into bed and fell asleep right away. When I got up, I left him there and got the kids up and ready to go. They were a little grumpy as they didn't know what was happening. I got them ready as quickly as possible and when Amber came in, their mood picked up. I knew they viewed her as the 'fun aunt' which I did my best to encourage this morning as I wanted them out early. We stopped and got a quick bite at McDonald's, then we were on our way. I had been vague on purpose, even with Amber until I turned the car in the opposite direction of the stores we were supposed to go to.

Amber looked at me, but I answered her question before she asked. "We're heading to Bryan's house," I said quietly.

"He's back in the mix? You sure you know what you're doing?" She asked, pointing at the kids in the back of the car.

I smiled at her. "He knows and you're all welcome. I looked back at the kids. Richard was looking at his baseball cards and Ally was playing with her pony, each happily munching on some snacks I had brought along. Quietly, I spoke to Amber. "If Art's going to be such a drunken ass, then the hell with him. I want the kids to meet Bryan, and I'd like you to meet him as well.

Even though it had been months, I quickly located Bryan's house. Amber opened her mouth without uttering a sound after seeing how large the place was. Her home and mine were much smaller and compared to ours, Bryan's home was a mansion. Bryan was standing outside as we pulled into the driveway. I knew it would be tricky with the kids here, but Amber had an excuse ready. She told the kids that we were stopping to see a fiend we hadn't seen in some time. That seemed to do the trick,