Lindsay Delagair - Unforgivable

“Micah is the father.”

“Sure he is.”

“I am,” Micah said firmly, “I’m the only one-”

David gave a scathing laugh, “So how far along are you, Leese?”

“A little more than four months,” I answered softly. This wasn’t the way I wanted the meeting to go. The pregnancy was supposed to be the good news at the end of the bad, but now it was going to be the first battleground to be covered.

“So you mean to tell me,” David sneered, turning to Micah, “that four months ago she links up with you after sleeping with who knows who, drops her pants and then vanishes and goes AWOL, again, only to turn up knocked up and ready to be a ‘good girl?’ You’ve got to be the stupidest son-of-a-bitch on the planet, Bro.”

“She hasn’t slept with anyone since she’s been gone and she certainly didn’t-”

David burst into caustic laughter as Gwen’s head finally turned my direction. “That’s an out-right lie. Unless you forgot about the bed.”

“No, I didn’t,” Micah tried to state.

David leaned forward and locked his eyes on me, “I’ve got to admit it, girl, you must have something pretty good between your legs to spread ‘em and have him coming running back to you like a-”

“I raped her!” Micah shouted back at his brother.

I didn’t realize he brought the photos until they hit the table and I was scrambling to grab them before anyone could see. “NO MICAH!” I cried out as my hands reached, but David was faster. “Why did you tell them?” I sobbed. The room was deathly quiet. Even David appeared speechless as he picked up the pictures.

I turned my chair away from the table and buried my face in my hands, my shoulders convulsing from my tears, and feeling the pain of having them know the ugly truth.

Micah was on his knees in front of me telling me he was sorry. His arms wrapped around me, begging me to forgive the insensitive way he blurted it out. “I won’t let them think anything less of you, Leese. You don’t deserve ridicule for what I did. Can you tell them what happened at the Acqualina, or do you want me to do it?”

“Son,” came Giorgio’s deep base voice, “did you honestly do this to her?”

I looked at Micah and watched as the pain of having his father know his dirty deed crushed him. He had always been so careful to impress, but now he realized how deeply disappointed the voice from across the table was.

“Yes, Sir. I-”

“It wasn’t his fault,” I began as I turned the chair to look into their stunned faces.

“Leese,” his father spoke, “you seem to always try to take the blame away from-”

“D’Angelo doped him up on steroids,” I said quickly. I didn’t know if Micah wanted that knowledge shared, but D’Angelo’s name was going to come up in the worst possible context in a few moments anyway. They seemed too shocked for words.

“That’s still no excuse,” Micah began.

“You’re right. You should go to jail,” Gwen stated as she put the picture she was holding face down, unable to look at it anymore.

“I know that, Gwen,” he admitted.

What about Ryan?” she finally asked, looking at me. “The two of you shared one bed in Georgia.”

“If you’ll give me a second to get myself together, I’ll explain everything.” Within a few breaths and a chance to dry my eyes, I began the long story of what happened the day I ran away, from the crazy elevator ride to D’Angelo’s threats against the family, to flying to Georgia and not being able to sleep without Micah.

“So you see Ryan was only trying to help Micah and me. He knew what was at stake, for all of you, and he felt he had to help. I nearly ruined his life, but God had a plan the whole time. I just never expected it to be this hard.”

“What about the steroids?” Giorgio asked.

Micah had been kneeling the whole time, supporting me as I told them what really happened and he finally stood. “He tracked me down at Remake and, the day I was going to try to win her back, we had lunch. I should have known better than to eat and drink what was already prepared, but I had-had other things on my mind. I knew something was wrong by the end of the meeting; my heart was racing and I kept breaking out in cold sweats. I drew some blood, but I didn’t have time to have it tested before I chased after her. I never should have tried to see her feeling the way I did, and then when I got to her-I-I lost all sense of control.”

For the first time, Celeste moved. She had been like a statue through this whole thing, but now she was up and at my side, “I pray you can forgive me for all the awful things I thought about you, Leese. I should have realized when Micah said something wasn’t right in all of this that he knew what he was talking about. Can you forgive me?”

I went into her arms and sobbed my eyes out. I could feel hands resting on my shoulders and back, Giorgio and Gwen were there apologizing and consoling me. David stayed seated.

“We have to discuss what we’re going to do about D’Angelo,” came David’s voice.

“Not with Leese in the room,” Micah stated.

“But-” I looked up at him.

“I need to speak to Leese, privately,” David interrupted. “Would you all leave us alone for a few minutes?”

Micah shot a worried look my direction, but I told him I would be fine. The family, somewhat reluctantly, left as David closed the door behind them.

He came over and pulled out the chair next to me and sat down, “I wish you’d done things differently, Leese. I know your reasons for not being able to go to Micah that day, and you’re right, he would have tried to get to D’Angelo and they would have killed him, but you could have called me.”

“I didn’t think that was a good idea either,” I said, mopping the last of the tears from my cheeks. “Mom’s heart would have been broken if anything happened to you.”

“I-I don’t think I’m ever going to have enough time to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so bull-headed sometimes. Micah and your mom both tried to tell me there had to have been another reason. They both said you wouldn’t do what you did without good cause, but I wouldn’t listen. Micah was right; he told me you’re very different from other people. I guess I just find it hard to believe that someone could be willing to sacrifice everything to save…” his words tangled in his throat and I watched this hard-core hit man’s eyes mist over. He gathered the photos and was holding them until he handed them to me. “If you don’t let him get his hands on these, your mother will never see them. I really think your mother should never see them.”

“I’ll destroy-”

“Please, forgive me for how I treated you,” he interrupted and opened his arms.

I gladly accepted the invitation as he held me securely and then asked me something that blew me away.

“Can I-can I touch…” His eyes dropping to my waist.

I stood up, bringing him with me and then placed his hands on either side of my stomach. The baby was being still, but David was fascinated anyway as he felt the mound.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked.

“A little boy…Uncle David,” I said, giving the first tiny laugh since this whole thing started.

He wrapped me in his arms, kissed my temple, and told me we were going to bring the others back in the room.

We’d made our peace.

Micah refused to allow me to remain in the room as his family discussed the D’Angelo issue. I argued for all I was worth, but even his family decided this matter should be between them.

Micah took me back up to the room and told me not to be surprised if this took a long time. He said not to hesitate to call for room service to send up anything I needed, but he would prefer (although he swore I was safe) that I didn’t leave the room.

There were no reasons that could make me want to go wandering around with so many mobsters in the building. I was staying put.

Lunchtime came and went, and then suppertime came and went-I was starting to get worried, but I was going to follow directions. I crawled in bed and dozed in and out, thinking about Ryan’s shirt that I still carried around with me. It and the awesome Pacific air were the only two things that helped me sleep in my four months of seclusion, but what would Micah think if he came in and found me asleep with it? It was eleven p.m. before I heard the door to the penthouse open. He looked like he’d been wrung completely out, emotionally, physically, and mentally. What had they discussed this long and why did he look so upset?

He crawled into the bed and kissed my forehead. “You should be asleep,” he scolded.

“I needed my sleeping pill,” I stated and then wrapped my arms around him. “Are you tired?” I whispered.

“Not too exhausted for you,” he replied.

He was lying and I knew it.

I sat upright and straddled him, smiling and telling him it was his turn to relax. He was reluctant, but eventually obeyed as I had him roll onto his stomach and began massaging his knotted muscles. He moaned and enjoyed every stroke of my hands from the base of his neck all the way to his calves. Then I turned him over and began with the front. He wasn’t expecting what I wanted tonight and at first he refused vehemently, but eventually he gave way to the new experience. He just kept repeating he didn’t deserve me, and I kept showing him he did.

Thursday night we pulled into Colorado Springs after a long day in the car. I paid for a year’s lease for my house and I still had the key. I told Micah that we might as well stay there tonight and we would go see Ryan on Friday. What I hadn’t expected was the reaction we both had when we walked through the living room to get to the bedroom; both of us pausing beside the couch and then looking at each other. The memory of the attack was so vivid for me that I could hear the sound of his hand slapping my face, I felt the painful bites, his grip on my throat, and the sound of his voice when he told Ryan it was ‘his turn.’ I shuddered without thought as Micah wrapped his arms around me.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he whispered against my hair. “We could go to a motel tonight.”

“No. It’s just hard for me. I hate what happened here,” my hand motioning to the place on the floor where he eventually took me, “but, I love what happened here,” I said, placing his hand on my stomach. “Come on.” I pulled him toward the bedroom. We didn’t make love, but I fell asleep to the repeated sound of him whispering words of love in my ear.

I called Ryan mid-morning and told him I was in town and on the way over. I was surprised that Micah was anxious to see him, yet I could tell he was worried.

Ryan must have heard my sports car’s engine, because he was out the front door as we pulled in. I told Micah to stay in the car until I had a chance to calm him down, because I knew he would be upset. I saw him duck down to look at the driver, but my windows were darkly tinted so he didn’t get the first glimpse until I opened my car door.

What came out of his mouth didn’t bear repeating in any way, shape, or form.

He was ready to go after Micah right then. I was trying to stop him as he grabbed me to move me out of the way. That was when I heard Micah’s door open. All I kept thinking was I wasn’t ready for him to get out of the car.

“Please, Ryan.”

“Don’t touch her,” came Micah’s warning.

“Get in the car, Micah,” I commanded, still holding on to Ryan and blocking his path. “Please, Ryan, calm down. I want you to meet someone-someone else.”

That stopped him. He was looking at me like I’d lost my mind as I took his hand and placed it against my soft flowing top. He jerked back like I’d shocked him.

“Ah, don’t tell me-he got you-he got you pregnant when he raped you?”

“I have a whole lot to tell you, but I’ve got to know if you’ll listen to me-please, Ryan. I’m going to have Micah leave for a little while so we can talk.” He was still staring with angry eyes at Micah when I turned his chin toward me, “Tell me now if I should leave or if you’ll at least hear what I have to say.”

“Don’t go,” he choked out, “Please, don’t go. I’ll listen.”

“Go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Reluctantly he turned and did as I asked. Now I had to get Micah to do the same.

“Go for a drive. I’ll call you when he’s ready to talk with you.” The other reluctant party drove away.

I didn’t think it would take quite so long to settle Ryan down, but he eventually began to understand why I was with the one person he felt I should hate instead of love. I explained about D’Angelo and the drugs, how horrible Micah felt about what he’d done, and what he’d learned by Ryan’s photos.

“He was so hopped up on anabolic steroids and amphetamines that he barely remembered any of it. I knew I was pregnant several days before I left and I was planning to get away for a while and let you get on with your life, but then a package arrived.”