Finding Bathsheba: Book 2Chapter 22 free porn video

"Get up, Ben. Oh, God, please let him get up." Brianna was woozy, but she could still see what was going on. Tyson stood over Ben, a HUGE knife in his hand. He was covered in blood, and so was Ben. Brianna tried to move, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Panic welled up inside her when Tyson turned towards her, an evil grin on his face.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," he hissed, as he crawled back onto the bed and between her legs. Brianna mentally screamed at her legs to close, at her arms to try to fend off her attacker, but her limbs refused to work.

Tyson's face grew even more twisted as he held himself over her. She whimpered when he pressed the tip of his blade against the softness of her neck. Then he chuckled as he turned it and slid the flat of the blade under her chin and up her cheek, smearing Ben's blood across her skin. She whimpered again and her body trembled in abject fear. Tyson shifted the blade in his hand and held it point down against her chest. He put a little pressure on it and Brianna cried out when she felt the tip pierce her skin. Then he stopped and settled his hips into place. Brianna imagined she could feel the tip of his penis ready to pierce her, as well. He held his hips and the knife still as he grinned at her.

"You're gonna love this. There's nothing quite as thrilling as the moment of penetration."

Then Brianna began to scream.

Brianna jerked awake, her heart pounding and her body covered in sweat. Her chest heaved, ready to scream again, but as her eyes darted in fear around the dark room, the scream died before it got started. The bedroom door burst open and she was suddenly bathed in light from the hallway. She flinched and drew away from the door as a huge shadow flew into the room, but her father's features quickly resolved as he sank onto the bed beside her and scooped her into his arms. The panic abated, and she began to cry.

"Shh, Baby," he soothed, "Everything's OK. I'm here now. No one's going to hurt you."

He rocked her as she cried; his strong arms and soothing words gradually calming her down. In the distance, she heard the muffled sound of a child's cry. She closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the security of her father's embrace. After a few minutes, another hand gently caressed her hair. She flinched, but when she sensed her mother's presence, she calmed again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" her mother quietly asked.

Brianna shook her head, but didn't open her eyes.

Her dad kissed the top of her head. "We don't have go back home yet, Sweetheart. We can stay here as long as you need."

A week had passed since the attack, and they were still staying at Tammy's house. Brianna sighed and opened her eyes. Her mother was kneeling on the floor in front of them, her tired eyes full of concern, and Brianna drew strength from her parents.

"I need to go home," she said, "I need to move on with my life."

"But it might be too soon," Lucy said.

Brianna knew it would be hard, going back to her home, her bedroom, the place where ... where IT took place. But she also knew she didn't want to put it off anymore. She refused to allow Tyson to have such an effect on her, especially not from beyond the grave. Brianna shuddered at that thought, but then shook her head.

"I'll be fine. I just need to face this head on." She hesitated and smiled expectantly at her mother. "But if I have a bad night, can I still cuddle up in your bed between you two?"

She felt more than heard her dad's rumbling chuckle. "You bet, Kiddo." He squeezed her tight.

"Is everything OK?"

Brianna looked to see Tammy standing in the doorway. Her sister's tired and concerned eyes mirrored their mom's, but any guilt Brianna felt for waking everyone in the middle of the night disappeared as she saw and felt the love of her family. Besides, Tammy's bed head was funny enough to make her smile.

"Things are fine," Lucy said, "What about the triplets?"

Tammy dismissed it with a wave. "They're fine. A little startled, but probably more curious than anything."

Brianna felt a new wave of guilt. "I heard them crying. I'm so sorry."

"You heard HER crying. Lindsey is a tad dramatic. I think she only did it so Dex would hold her for a while. She so knows how to play him. The other two were back asleep before I left their room, and I'm sure Lin is by now."

Brianna smiled. "Well, I'm sorry anyway. You guys can all go back to bed. I'll be fine."

"It's already almost six," Lucy said. "Daniel was getting up soon anyway, so we might as well start the day. Do you want to go back to sleep?"

Brianna was definitely WIDE awake, so she quickly shook her head.

Tammy rubbed her hands together. "Then how about some pancakes?"

"I'd like that," Brianna said.

Lucy stood up and took Brianna's hand. She squeezed reassuringly and turned to follow her older daughter. "Would you like me to help?"

"Help? I figured YOU were going to make them. Why would I make them when my mommy can?"

Brianna looked at her father, and the two shared a grin.

Brianna anxiously looked at the clock on Merrigan's car radio.

"We'll be there on time," Merrigan said, "Don't worry."

"I know. It's just that it's his first day back to school and I don't want him to have to face the masses by himself. You know how the buzz has been."

"I know, and he won't have to. I mean we always get there before him, and we're going to be 10 minutes earlier than normal. We're not late."

Brianna sighed. "I've been up for a while. Maybe that's why it feels so late already."

Merrigan glanced at her. "More bad dreams?"

Images from her nightmare flashed through her mind, but she quickly pushed them out. "Yeah," she quietly said.

"Oh, Bri, I'm sorry. Was this night as bad as the others?"

"Worse, I woke the whole family this time."

Merrigan reached out and squeezed Brianna's hand, but put it back on the steering wheel to turn into the school parking lot.

"Do you think it was worse because you're going back home today?"

Brianna shrugged.

"Do you think you're ready to go back?" Merrigan asked.

"Not really, but I keep telling myself that everything will be fine. Mom and Dad had the room cleaned and put back just like before. They fixed the window and added a security system. And if I can't handle it, Tammy's old room is ready for me to move into. Mom and Dad even said I can redecorate the room—either of them—anyway I want. So the only things that will still be there to remind me are my memories."

"Those are pretty powerful."

"Yeah."

Their arrival stopped that conversation as the girls got their things out of the car and headed towards the school. Brianna sat down on a bench next to the entrance.

"What are you doing?" Merrigan asked.

"I'm waiting here for Ben. I don't want him to have to face the barrage of questions alone any more than he has to. If you hadn't been with me when I came back, I don't know what I would have done."

Merrigan sat down beside her without a word and they waited in silence for a few minutes.

A trio of mangy-looking freshman or sophomore boys stopped in front of them. "Hey, this our spot."

It was customary for cliques to stake out a pre-bell spot early in the year, and rarely did kids "relocate".

"Not today," Merrigan simply said, "Sorry."

"It's been our spot all year. You can't just—"

Brianna snapped. "She said not today, dammit. Now fuck off!"

The boys looked shocked. Other kids turned their heads. A teacher also glanced in their direction.

"Geez, you don't have to go crazy," one boy said, as his friends quickly backed away.

"Go.Away."

He mumbled something as he followed his buddies. Brianna took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. She glanced at Merrigan, who looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

"Sorry," Brianna quietly said.

Merrigan sat up straighter. "Here he comes."

Brianna whipped her head around to look back toward the parking lot and saw Ben walking between two cars and coming in their direction. Brianna watched as he walked, his head down, one hand in his pocket, and the other hooked in the strap of the backpack on his shoulder. He walked gingerly, though, and at one point he winced and pressed his hand to his side. She couldn't see the wound or the bandages since his shirt was loose, but she knew they were there. She absently reached up and fluttered her fingers across the fading cut on her face.

When Ben looked up and saw the two girls, he slowed up, wincing again at the sudden change in his momentum. Brianna quickly stood, as if to go help him, but caught herself. Instead she shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Merrigan stood up beside her. Brianna wasn't sure what she was nervous about, but she'd been nervous when she saw him the day after the attack, too. She knew she wasn't to blame, and as the days passed, any irrational guilt she felt over his injuries faded even more.

His surprise at seeing the girls only lasted a moment, then he smiled warmly. Brianna felt her face flush and her heart flutter. He continued until he stood in front of them.

"Hey, Ben," Merrigan said.

"Hey, Merrigan." He smiled at Merrigan, and then looked down at Brianna. "Hey, Brianna. You doing OK?"

Brianna blushed again. "Um, yeah. Thanks to you."

It was Ben's turn the blush.

"What about you?" Brianna asked, "Are you ready for this?"

"Sure. No big deal."

Brianna cocked her head to the side. His eyes belied his confident words. But she nodded and turned to go into the school, with Merrigan beside her. Ben fell into step on the other side.

"Was it hard?" he quietly asked. "Coming back to school, I mean, having to face all the questions and rumors and stuff?"

"Yeah, it was. But it helped to have friends with me." Brianna felt a surge of love for Merrigan and smiled at her lover.

"Oh," Ben said. Then his eyes opened wide. "OH. That's why you were waiting for me." He glanced at Brianna, and his look made her quiver. "Thanks, Bri, thanks, Merrigan."

The looks and whispers started as soon as they walked through the doors. By the time they made it to the lockers, Brianna could feel the tension in Ben ready to snap.

They stopped in front of his locker. He leaned his head forward and rested it against the locker door.

Merrigan touched his arm. "Ben?"

He took a deep shuddering breath.

Brianna took his free hand and laced her fingers with his.

"It'll be OK," she quietly said, "You'll get through it."

"You know," he said, without lifting his head, "I don't really care about the whispers, stares, or rumors, except for one thing. It all reminds me that I killed someone."

Brianna was quiet for a second, then squeezed his hand. "You know what it reminds me of? It reminds me that you saved someone, too."

"Come in, Mr. Williams."

Jack opened the door to Dr. Franklin's office and stepped inside. The large man looked up without a smile and motioned Jack towards a seat. As Jack sat down, Dr. Franklin watched him, absently tapping his pen against an open folder on his desk. He continued to look at Jack for several long moments. Jack felt uncomfortable at the scrutiny, but remained silent. Dr. Franklin called the meeting; he could start when he was ready.

"I was talking to Dr. Goodwyn recently," the older man finally said.

"Oh?"

"About you, obviously."

"Obviously."

"He told me about your surprise bundle of joy."

Jack furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?"

"The baby that you claim isn't yours that showed up with his mother in tow a couple of months ago."

"Phil talked to YOU about it?"

Jack was incredulous. Why would Phil tell Jack's advisor about a private matter like this? He didn't know whether to be pissed at Phil, Dr. Franklin, or both. Dr. Franklin ignored Jack's question.

"Quite a quandary to find yourself in."

"You called me in to talk about THAT? I don't know what Phil told you, but it's a matter that doesn't concern you."

"Aren't you even curious why Phil talked to me about it?"

"Not really. It was none of your business."

"Oh?" Dr. Franklin looked down at the folder in front of him. "That's a shame, considering I probably know more about it than you do."

Jack furrowed his brow again. "Excuse me?"

Dr. Franklin flipped through the contents of the folder. He slid a page in front of Jack. "I can see how she got your attention. Quite attractive."

Natasha's senior yearbook picture stared up at Jack. He looked at Dr. Franklin. "The baby isn't mine."

"Of course not, you proved that fact on your own. Nice bit of investigative work to clear yourself. I'm sure that put Abigail's mind at ease."

Jack didn't want to be having this conversation with this insufferable man. He knew he was being baited, but he still couldn't help himself. "I didn't tell her what I found out."

Jack felt a small measure of satisfaction when Dr. Franklin looked up with raised eyebrows.

"Really? Well, I'm sure you have your reasons. It's of no consequence here, though." He slid another sheet of paper to Jack. "What do you know about the Great Nashville Women's Health Clinic?"

"Other than they are either a shady outfit or too stupid to ask for proof of identity?"

To Jack's surprise, Dr. Franklin chuckled. "I take that as a no."

He motioned toward the paper, indicating for Jack to look at it, but Jack wasn't ready to go there yet. He kept his eyes leveled at his advisor. Dr. Franklin sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk.

"Now you're feeling hurt that your friend and mentor shared private information about your life without consent, and you are angry that I, someone you don't like very much, has nosed around in your affairs. I will humor you this time, Mr. Williams, so that you learn to quit wasting time and energy being angry at the wrong people."

Jack was taken aback by Dr. Franklin's somewhat condescending tone and blunt words, but before he could respond, his advisor continued.

"You are a contradiction, Mr. Williams. Sometimes you are so in control of your emotions that you act methodically, confidently, and with precision. Other times, like now, you are so blinded by your emotions that you act in a way that hinders progress. Yes, I know your outward demeanor appears calm and collected, but you are seething inside."

Jack WAS seething, and the fact that Dr. Franklin could get under his skin so easily just pissed him off even more.

"You don't trust me, and that caution is admirable," the older man said. "However, you need to recognize when a person is an enemy and when he is an ally, and learn how to take advantage of both situations. I'm going to give you a little background so we can move past your childish behavior and get to the root of your problem." He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Phil and I go way back, fought for the same causes over the years. We took similar paths as time went on—both ending up in academia—but they were still vastly different. Phil chose to devote himself to teaching, and until you brought him back into the game, had buried the activist inside himself. Personally, I think he had burn-out, that he got sick of the fight. I respect Phil for the passion with which he fought for the helpless; he was instrumental in many wrongs being righted. However, his sensitivity was likely what pushed him out. I remember how much it would crush him when a wrong would remain a wrong."

Jack's anger was defused as he listened to this man's assessment of Phil. He was able to finally see that Dr. Franklin was right—he was brash and belligerent without knowing the facts. If he just remained impassive, Dr. Franklin would likely get to what Jack wanted to know. Jack ALSO knew that if he hadn't put up his defenses, Dr. Franklin probably wouldn't have opened up like this, and he would have continued to remain an enigma.

"Anyway, Phil mentioned to me some time ago that he had come to learn of a pretty big injustice in small-town America, and he raved on and on about the young man who 'forced' him back into the game—his words, not mine. Then he called me later and said this same young man was coming to the University of Washington and that I should seriously consider advising him. After the third or fourth call about the young man, I was so sick of hearing Phil's sentimental blubbering, that I agreed just to get him to shut up."

That explained why Jack had been coerced into working with Dr. Franklin, a decision Jack was still regretting. He remained silent and allowed the older man to finish his narrative.

"Then a couple of months ago, Phil called yet AGAIN and asked me for help. You see, Phil does the best he can with the resources he has. His little project over-extended his resources, and since I was in a position where my resources were more—how shall I say it? - more experienced, definitely more vast. Anyway, he sought my assistance. That his request involved my newest advisee was motivation for me. Have you wondered why Miss Natasha Darrow didn't follow up on her threats?"

Jack was caught off guard by the sudden question; he hesitated for a second, but not because he hadn't thought about that very thing. "Obviously, she had no basis for her accusations. She was just trying to ruffle feathers. I assumed she made the threat and then went on her way, having accomplished whatever it was she was supposed to accomplish."

"That seems like a lot of work to make one visit in an attempt to 'ruffle feathers'," Dr. Franklin countered. "On the contrary, Phil's investigator was able to determine that Miss Darrow was settling in here in Seattle. She apparently was planning to draw this out for a while. They weren't entirely sure what she hoped to accomplish, since her story didn't hold water. However, Miss Darrow became suspicious of Phil's man when he became a little too aggressive in his snooping—he was fairly new to the game—and has subsequently disappeared. That was when Phil turned to me. I have some associates who have quite a bit more experience. Instead of focusing on finding the girl, they decided to pay the clinic a few visits. Through some ... altering of reality, they were able to isolate the doctor and the administrative assistant whose names were associated with Miss Darrow's case.

"Seems Natasha Darrow and Jack Williams were both present at the first appointment, proven by their signatures on the documents. It only took a little bit of discussion about the accuracy of the date of that first visit—the mother-to-be wasn't even in the state that day and the father-to-be was in the middle of a final miles away—for the assistant to confess that the doctor coerced her into falsifying the account and the visit."

Jack listened intently as Dr. Franklin spoke, becoming more shocked as the tale unfolded. He tried to think back to the date of the alleged first appointment, but he just couldn't remember. Dr. Franklin saved him the trouble.

"Don't bother," he said, "You didn't even have class that day, but the administrative assistant didn't know that. The doctor, however, wasn't as easily swayed. He dismissed it as a clerical error and was adamant that the appointment happened within a day or two of the date on the invoice. The doctor even put this into writing.

"It only took one subsequent visit by my associates to convince the doctor to willingly cooperate with us. He was presented with copies of records from the prison where Miss Darrow was still a resident during the time of the alleged appointment, not to mention other follow-up appointments. Faced with criminal charges and a ruined future, he gratefully cleared your account and provided us written agreement between the doctor and a man who just so happened to work for an old acquaintance of yours, a Mr. John Merrill, attorney at law. This man was apparently in possession of proof of an affair between the doctor and the administrative assistant. The agreement was that he would not reveal this bit of information to the doctor's wife in exchange for the doctor falsifying the documents, and thus sullying your name."

Jack took a deep breath and felt the tension leave his body. He hadn't realized he'd been so rigid during the discussion.

"Wow, that's quite a story, Dr. Franklin." He shook his head. "So the account is erased and my credit report cleaned up?"

Dr. Franklin nodded.

"I guess I owe you thanks, then."

"No thanks necessary, but maybe you could attempt to give me the benefit of the doubt from now on. I'm really not here to make your life miserable. I mentioned earlier that I was impressed with your investigative skills. From what I've seen and heard, you function well under stress; you have a strong sense of justice, and big pair of balls. I have some big things in mind for you, and I need you to buy into my ideas in order for them to work."

Jack's head was spinning. What did he mean by "big things"? How had he accomplished all of this? Who were his associates? A different question, however, found its way to his mouth.

"Did this man working for John Merrill have anything that could implicate Ted Garner?"

Dr. Franklin smirked. "You are SO sure your father-in-law is behind this."

"Since you seem to know so much, do you have a better suspect?"

"No, and you are probably right about your father-in-law. We are currently working on trying to gain the trust of Merrill's man. It has become somewhat easier with Merrill's death. I'm guessing we should have something, one way or another, in another couple of weeks."

Jack shook his head. "Why are you doing all this? HOW are you doing all this?"

Dr. Franklin smiled; a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "I'm glad you asked. The 'how' is that I do some consulting work for a certain company that excels in this kind of thing. Interestingly enough, this company offers one internship every couple of years to a student of my choosing. I've chosen you for this opportunity. That is the answer to your 'why'."

He slid another slip of paper across the desk. It contained a name and phone number. Jack sighed.

"Dr. Franklin, I appreciate this, I do. It pleases me that you and Phil have such faith in my abilities. But this isn't really what I want to do with my career."

"Jack, listen to me," Dr. Franklin said, surprising Jack by calling him by his first name. "This internship is a rare opportunity. We haven't filled it in half a decade because I didn't feel comfortable with anyone. I'm giving you a golden opportunity, a huge stepping stone for a powerful career in business forensics, among other things. Would you really be able to look at yourself in the mirror wondering 'what if', knowing that you passed this up without at least giving it a chance?"

Jack was quiet for a long time. The idea of forensics was thrilling, but he wasn't sure he wanted that stress. With Abigail, Allison, and hopefully a future passel of children, wouldn't he rather have something less stressful, less intense, so he could focus his attentions on them? He looked up at the older man and sighed.

"Fine, I'll give it a shot. I owe it to you at least."

"No, you owe it to yourself to pursue your calling in life." Dr. Franklin nodded at the paper with the name and phone number. "Call this man sometime after the first of June. The internship begins in the summer."

Jack nodded. "Thanks."

He got up to leave, but as he reached the door, Dr. Franklin stopped him.

"One last thing. What you did for Heidi Stone was a good thing,. Her ex-boyfriend is just about to take a pretty nasty fall, legally speaking, and he wouldn't have hesitated to sacrifice her if it saved his skin. You did good." Dr. Franklin turned towards his computer. "Have a good summer, Mr. Williams."

Sharon ran the vacuum down the hallway, meticulously covering every inch of the floor. When she was sure she'd been thorough, she swung the vacuum into Ben's room, but pulled up short as she noticed the clutter on the floor. With a sigh, she went to work straightening his room so she could finish her vacuuming.

Normally, he'd have been expected to clean up his messes and would have been scolded for not having done so. However, during the last week, she'd gone back to coddling him just as she'd done when he was young. He'd always had a special place in her heart, probably because he seemed to have none in his father's. In her defense, his mobility the first few days after he was released from the hospital was pretty limited; it was just instinctual to help him. She shuddered at the thought of what put him in the hospital, and as she worked, she unsuccessfully tried to force those thoughts from her head. Unfortunately, her emotions began to get the best of her, so in frustration, she gave up her chore and sat down on the edge of his bed.

Ted had taken the call that night. When he heard the words "police" and "your son", he was so angry at Ben that he could hear nothing else that was said, other than that he was in the emergency room. It wasn't until Ted saw Ben, and learned of what had happened, that he showed any positive emotion towards their youngest, and that was only false public pride that "his boy could do something heroic."

Sharon had known even less than Ted did as they drove to the hospital, so her mind conjured up all kinds of horrible things. Even though she was pretty shaken up, nothing could have prepared her to see her injured son lying deathly still in the ER, connected to countless machines and wrapped tightly around the abdomen by a bandage that was stained with his blood. Even now, a week later, that image still haunted her.

Sharon had such a jumbled mix of feelings about that day that she felt like she was going crazy. There was no doubt in her mind that Ted had unfairly lashed out at Ben—AGAIN. That was why Ben had left, why he was so upset that night, why he went over to the Rawlings' home, and why he almost died. If Ted hadn't been so ... tyrannical and unjust towards Ben, none of this would have happened to him.

Sharon felt the rage welling up inside her. Her husband even had the gall to blame Brianna Rawlings for Ben's injuries! Sharon was incredulous then, and she was equally so now, but when she pictured the poor girl, bruised and damaged herself, yet pleading to see the boy who saved her life, she felt some of her vitriol fade away. What if Ben HADN'T gone over that day? Would it have been Brianna's body driven to morgue instead of that ... vile Tyson Merrill?

She felt only a tinge of guilt for thinking ill of the dead, but that was quickly overshadowed by the thought that Ted had once defended Tyson's actions, violent actions such as when he attempted to rape their OWN daughter, only to be saved herself by the very same girl who Ben saved. Ted defended Tyson's actions then, just as he'd defended the actions of the boy's father years before, when SHE was almost the victim.

Boiling under the surface of her emotions was another idea, one that she tried to repress, but that just wouldn't go away. Ted's involvement with Tyson's lawyer, and his conversation with the judge that day about Tyson's release, coupled with his defense of the boy's actions, gave rise to this disturbing idea, and the more she thought about it, the angrier and sicker she became inside. Was it possible that Ted was somehow entangled in this mess beyond just a casual conversation with the judge and unrelated meetings with the lawyer? In hindsight, it was clear that another emotion accompanied Ted's initial anger toward Ben and his eventual false pride that night. He had acted oddly, and now that Sharon could look at that night in a somewhat less emotional frame of mind, she sensed that his superficial emotions were a result of this other, hidden emotion. It was almost as if Ted was ... afraid. Of course, she wasn't so stupid as to think he was afraid for Ben. She closed her eyes tightly. If he was directly involved in the situation that freed the rapist who assaulted their daughter and almost killed their son, was it possible Ted was somehow involved in this sexual assault business that appears to go back at least a decade?

Her rage surged again, this time consuming all other emotions. Who was this man she'd married? Was he always this way, and she was only too blind or too stupid to see it? What other unsavory things was Ted involved in that Sharon had no knowledge of?

She remembered Phil Goodwyn's words, of course. They were burned into her mind. Do you know what kind of man your husband really is?

What kind of man was Ted? She'd already come to grips with the fact that she no longer loved him, and any respect she'd had for him had been pummeled and left for dead. And that was still assuming he was a moral, upstanding man who only failed at being a husband and father. What if his actions in other parts of his life were even more nefarious?

What kind of man was Ted? Sharon suddenly needed to know. She quickly rose and left Ben's room. Before she realized it, she was standing at the door to Ted's home office. She hesitated with her hand on the knob, took a quick breath, and pushed the door open before she could change her mind. The light from the hallway seemed to slice into the pitch black interior of the office. Her heart thumped as she stepped inside and felt along the wall until she found the switch. With a flick of her finger, light flooded the room. The dark leather and wood of the office seemed to absorb that light, keeping things dark and somber.