Bentley crashed to his knees. Ben drew back and planted his boot in the man’s ribs.
“Ben, stop! You’ll kill him and go to jail!” Sissy screamed. “Stop! Please, stop!”
Sanity returned, and Ben, fists still clenched, stared down at Bentley, who lay huddled in a fetal position. “Count your lucky stars, you asshole. I’ve never wanted to kill a man before, but I’d gladly put you six feet under.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Sissy stared at her father as he writhed on the floor. She felt soiled in a way that soap and water would never remove. Douglas Bentley wasn’t only a piece of trash. He had something haywire in his brain. She couldn’t believe alcohol alone had turned him into such a monster.
And his blood flowed in her veins.
She heard the faint sound of sirens, and with every beat of her heart, they grew louder. Then she heard the screech of tires as speeding vehicles came to a sudden stop.
“I’m not leaving you to let them in,” Ben said. “Not with him conscious.”
Sissy listened for the sound of shattering glass, but somehow the emergency response team gained access to the building without breaking a window.
“In the kitchen!” Ben called.
Barney Sterling was the first person to charge into the kitchen. He glanced at Sissy, determined she was in no immediate danger, and then straddled Doug Bentley and jerked his arms behind his back to cuff him. “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say—”
“Go fuck yourself. You think this is the first time I ever heard my rights?”
As if Bentley hadn’t spoken, Barney continued. “Anything you say may be held against you in a court of law.”
For Sissy everything after that happened in a blur. Paramedics rushed in. She was checked over and lifted onto a gurney. Before she knew it, she was in an ambulance headed for Crystal Falls. Though her cheekbone still throbbed, she didn’t feel badly hurt, except for her leg, which she prayed wasn’t serious. Emotionally, however, she felt wounded in a way that no doctor could ever heal. She thought of Ben and closed her eyes to ward off an urge to sob. He was such a wonderful man and came from an equally wonderful family.
Sissy was the daughter of a mentally ill drunk and a woman who’d offered her child up tonight as a sacrifice to get her hands on some money. Because of Doug Bentley, people had looked down on her all her life. She remembered that football player who’d called her white trash. Well, he’d been right. They’d all been right. Her feelings of inferiority had always run deep, and they flooded back to the surface now. Her father was sick, beyond sick. She’d seen the knot on his ear. No matter what he said, she was his child.
* * *
Once in the ER, Sissy was examined and underwent X-rays. Her mental anguish was so intense that the process didn’t bother her nearly as much as it normally would. She’d been lucky, they told her. No new bones had been fractured. Her surgeon was called in. He said Sissy’s tibia held fast even after the cast broke. In his estimation, the pain in her leg was due more to the atrophy of her muscles and tendons. He applied a new cast with a walking heel, told Sissy to baby the leg for two days, and released her to go home. Despite bruises and lacerations, she required no hospitalization.
The moment Sissy limped out of the ER, she saw Ben in the waiting room. He surged to his feet and strode toward her. She knew that he intended to drive her home and believed they could pick up where they left off. Sissy’s heart felt as if it were breaking. She would always love Ben. What woman wouldn’t? But what had happened tonight could never be erased from her mind. Ben Sterling deserved a whole lot better than what Sissy could offer him. Undoubtedly, her father would be locked up, but for how long? After tonight he’d be out for revenge as well as money.
The man was crazy. She’d seen madness in his eyes tonight. But his genetics, latent though they seemed to be in her, could still be passed on to her kids. Ben wanted to have babies. They had never discussed it, but the intense manner in which he had argued that children were products of their environment had been a telltale sign that he yearned to have a family. And he deserved to have that, to be a father. But he needed to do that with a woman whose genetic makeup didn’t include a violent, insane man and a woman who would set her daughter up to be robbed and raped.
* * *
When Ben reached Sissy and tried to grasp her arm, she said, in a flat, unemotional tone, “One of the Mystic Creek deputies is giving me a ride back to the café.”
Ben couldn’t believe he’d heard correctly. There was an empty, glassy look in her eyes, and she avoided his gaze. Something was going on in her head. He just wasn’t sure what. Even so, all his instincts told him to back off. Her own father had just tried to rob and rape her. And her mother had been complicit in the attempt. She had to be feeling emotionally shattered. A smart man didn’t press a woman at a time like this.
“All right,” he told her, even though those were some of the most difficult words he’d ever uttered. He wanted to hold her against him and comfort her. He wanted to put ice on her swollen cheek and puffy lip. “All right.”
Ben turned to leave the ER. With every step, he prayed she’d call out his name. He waited inside his truck in the parking lot until Sissy emerged from the building. He clenched his hands over the steering wheel as he watched her climb into a taxi. Deputy, hell. She’d called a cab. The fare to Mystic Creek would be astronomical. Yet she preferred to pay out the nose for a ride rather than allow him to take her home.
* * *
When Sissy returned to the café, she shuddered. Whether she imagined it or not, the stench of her father still lingered there, and everywhere she looked, she remembered his brutality and the crazed look in his eyes. He’d tainted her building with his presence, and now she just yearned to be alone. The sheriff and two deputies were still taking pictures and dusting the surfaces of her cash register and safe. She locked the front door and approached Sheriff Adams, a stoutly built older man with the beginning of an impressive beer belly.
She briefly told the law officer what had occurred.
“I have that figured out,” he replied. “He has a criminal record. One of my deputies already took a few of what we believed were his prints and ran them. A few must have been Ben’s, but we found a match on the others in no time. His prints are on the door of the safe and all over the money bag. It’s a clear robbery attempt.” He studied Sissy’s bruised face. “And judging by the state of your clothing, he also sexually assaulted you.”
Sissy had closed her blouse as best she could, but it was still clear to anyone who looked that someone had tried to rip the garment off of her. She swallowed. “Yes. He tried to rape me.”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “I know he’s your father. It’s difficult to press charges against a close relative.”
Sissy looked him squarely in the eye. “It won’t be difficult. I hope he spends the rest of his life behind bars, and if I can make that happen by pressing charges, I will. And, for your information, he physically assaulted me before he tried to rape me. I want to press charges against him for breaking and entering, assault, attempted rape, and attempted robbery. He also told me my mother is his accomplice. She came to visit me, all nice and lovey, saying she left him four years ago. She lied. She wanted to get the lay of the land, tell him where I am, and get the money he tried to steal in her greedy little hands.”
Adams beckoned her toward the bar to fill out the paperwork. Sissy shook her head. “Can I do that upstairs? My injured leg took some punishment tonight, and I’d like to elevate it for a while.”
“Certainly.”
The sheriff followed Sissy up the stairs. “Wow, no wonder you broke your leg in a tumble down these. They’re mighty steep.”
Sissy trusted the sheriff. She wasn’t nervous about being upstairs alone with him. That was a gift to her from Ben. He’d taught her
that some men in the world were decent and caring individuals.
“Barney Sterling has Nate Ramsey from Nuts and Bolts replacing your back door. You’ll be able to lock up tonight.”
“Oh, thank you,” Sissy said as she sank onto the sofa and rested her throbbing leg on the coffee table. “It’ll be fun explaining to my insurance agent why I’ve had door damage twice in such a short period of time.”
The sheriff sat beside her on the sofa, but not so close that she felt her space was invaded. “We have all the evidence we need to nail him. All you have to do is sign the documents.”
He handed her a clipboard. As Sissy signed to press charges against her father, she pushed down harder with the pen than she normally would, wanting her signature to show clearly on the pink copy. She’d hang it on her wall. She never wanted to forget that she’d been the one who finally put her father behind bars for possibly years. It’d be just her luck that he’d do only six months. Regardless, Doug Bentley deserved every day of the time he was imprisoned.
“How is he?” she asked.
“A pretty deep gouge on his temple. A mild concussion. At this moment, he’s in the Mystic Creek jail.”
“Good. He can’t hurt anyone in there.”
* * *
After the sheriff left, Sissy locked up after him. Then she resumed her seat on the sofa, held Patches close, and cried her heart out.
When Ben knocked on her apartment door and called to her, she wasn’t surprised. He loved her. She didn’t doubt that. In fact, she knew he would lay down his life for her. It was so hard not to unlock the door and invite him in. She wanted so badly to feel his arms around her that she ached. But that would be unfair to Ben.
A cold feeling coursed through her as she recalled her father’s hands groping her body. Sick. Sissy had never met any of her dad’s family. They could all be batshit crazy. Her mom had seemed so sincere when she said she’d pray with every roll of the tires driving home, and the whole time she’d been plotting to get her hands on Sissy’s money. Sissy had observed their operation for years. She’d been stupid to believe her mom had changed. The woman she’d spoken with at the restaurant had been an illusion, someone playing a role.
They were sick. Sick. Sissy had always preferred to think Doreen was just spineless. But in her own way, she was as treacherous and deadly as her husband.
Desperately hoping she was wrong, Sissy got out her laptop and used the search term mental illness genetics. The screen popped up with bold blue headers, leading to sites that said in the brief descriptions that five major mental disorders had been proven to have genetic roots. Even the Mayo Clinic affirmed what Sissy feared the most—that she could pass on mental illness to her children.
She shoved the computer on the floor. Patches crawled onto her lap. Sissy cuddled him against her neck, began rocking back and forth, and sobbed her heart out once more. She loved Ben too much to taint his life with all the baggage she carried from her parents. On threat of death, she’d never do that to him.
“You’re my one and only,” she whispered raggedly to the kitten. “I can love you all I want and never hurt you.”
* * *
When Sissy didn’t answer Ben’s knock, he decided to give her some space and time to think. Through the door, he said, “I love you, honey. You’ll never know how much because I can’t put it into words. I know you’ve been to hell and back tonight. I understand how upset you must be right now. So I’ll go and leave you alone to sort your way through all this. I found your spare key in the pantry. I’ll lock up as I leave and return the key when I come back in the morning to work.”
“No!” Ben heard her cry. “I’m healed enough now to handle everything here.”
Ben frowned. She wasn’t healed enough. If she tried to run the café without help, especially after what she’d been through tonight, she’d put too much stress on the leg. “That’s where we’re going to butt heads, sweetheart.”
“I’ll hire help. I’ll call the employment department tomorrow. I’ll put an ad in our weekly paper. I can also put up an ad on Craigslist.”
“And it may take you days to find someone. Then you’ll have to train that person. I’ll be here in the morning. You don’t have to speak to me. I won’t speak to you unless it’s necessary. But I’m helping until you no longer need help.”
“I won’t let you in.”
Ben sighed. “Fine. I’ll just come through the front door like customers do.”
He turned and started down the stairs. He heard Sissy calling his name. Sadness welled within him. She was trying to cut him out of her life. Why? Things had been so perfect between them. Why in the hell would she want to end it with him?
* * *
Ben’s hope that a night’s rest would change Sissy’s mind was futile. When he arrived the next morning she didn’t utter a syllable. She had bruises on her face and arms. A split lip. How could she still look so beautiful? But to him, she did. Fortunately, they’d worked together so much in the café that they didn’t need to communicate. It reminded Ben of those early days when Sissy had given him the cold shoulder.
Ben worked at the café the next day and the day after that. As long as he could work with Sissy, he had hope.
He wasn’t sure what was going on with her. But he damned sure meant to find out. By midmorning of the third day, he decided that he’d give Sissy no choice. She would talk to him tonight after they closed the café. He loved her too much to take no for an answer.
Only, Sissy beat him to the punch by finally breaking the silence. “Tonight after closing, we need to talk.”
Ben nodded. “I was going to ask you, actually. We’ve got to figure this out.”
She turned away. “Great. We’re both on board. And just for the record, I’ve already figured it out.” Her tone suggested that the conversation she had in mind was going to be the opposite of great.
It seemed to Ben that the remainder of the day lasted far longer than usual. But finally Sissy locked the front door and closed the café. Normally, they adjourned to the kitchen to do cleanup and breakfast prep. But tonight she beckoned for him to take a seat at the bar. As he straddled a stool, she circled the counter and stood across from him.
“I want to thank you for all you’ve done, and also tell you that you needn’t be here in the morning. I’ve hired a helper. She has plenty of experience. I really like her. She’ll be perfect.” Other than sounding firm, her voice was completely expressionless.
Ben gazed at her face. He knew that look. Sissy had erected the walls around her heart again, particularly the wall between herself and him. She reached into her chef coat pocket and brought out the diamond ring that he’d put on her finger not long ago. She carefully set it on the counter.
“I’m ending our engagement,” she said, her tone still flat. “I’m sure Blackie will give you a fair price for the ring. It’s so beautiful. You’ll be able to recoup a large portion of what you paid for it.”
“Sissy—”
“No, Ben. We have nothing more to say to each other. It’s over.”
“I’ve figured out why you’re pushing me away,” he said, acting as if she hadn’t spoken. “You’ve always worried about your family. You’re afraid mental illness runs in your bloodline. But there are ways around that, sweetheart. We can still have babies. As many as you’d like to have. We’ll just adopt.”
Her eyes went misty, but her expression didn’t change. “No,” she said. “You want children of your own, and I don’t blame you for that. You have such a great family. On Halloween night, I watched you with your dad and brothers. The family resemblance is so strong that even strangers who saw all of you together would know you’re related. An adopted son would bear no resemblance to you, his uncles, or his grandfather.” She shrugged. “I won’t do that to you, Ben. You might feel content at first with adopted children, but there would always be an
empty place within you.”
“We could hire a surrogate to carry my child, then.” Ben wasn’t sure where that idea had come from. He actually wanted a little girl that resembled Sissy. But now that the idea had slipped into his brain, he believed it might be an option Sissy would consider. “Then the kid would have my genes.”
“You see? You do yearn for your own children.”
“That isn’t how I meant it. You’re wrong. I’d be perfectly happy to adopt kids. Jeb adopted Chloe. Barney adopted Sarah. Those little girls are their daughters in every way that matters. You’re three days out from being sexually assaulted by your father. You’re upset, conflicted, and not thinking straight.”
“Why should I be thinking straight?” she fired back. “Do you think my father has a rational thought in his head? Or that my mother does? No sane woman would stay with a man like him.” She pushed the ring closer to him. “Take it, Ben. I love you. I love you too much to let you mess up your chances to have the kind of life you deserve. I’m not going to change my mind. Just go. Don’t make this any more painful for either of us than it has to be.”
She turned away and headed into the kitchen. Ben noted that her limp was less pronounced than it had been since her father’s attack. That meant her leg was healing.
Now if only he could find a magical remedy for his heart.
“I’m leaving the ring,” he said, knowing she could hear him because of the pass-through. “I bought it especially for you, and I don’t want it back.”
On legs suddenly shaking and unsteady, Ben walked out.
* * *
The next morning, Ben awakened with renewed determination roiling within him. He bypassed his usual silent hour and went straight to his computer to sign up and pay a membership fee for a site that promised a user could learn anything about anyone. He began with Mabel Rushwater, now deceased, and soon he found the names of her parents and siblings.