Salvation At Sunset (A McGinty's Of San Antonio Series Novel Book 5) Read online

  His Forgotten Love

  Copyright © 2016 by Donalyn Maurer

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2016

  ISBN 0-9000000-0-0

  Falling Anvil Publishing

  123 Mesa Street

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

  ― Martin Luther King Jr.

  Dedicated to ~

  Survivors

  “Don't judge yourself by what others did to you.”

  ― C. Kennedy

  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

  Call 1-800-273-8255

  Available 24 hours everyday

  To support the Wounded Warrior Project

  Visit their website at

  -woundedwarriorproject.org-

  Or make a donation

  OTHER PAYMENT METHODS

  By Phone: 855.448.3997

  By Mail:

  Download this form and mail to:

  Wounded Warrior Project

  PO Box 758517

  Topeka, Kansas 66675-8517

  Veteran Crisis Line

  1.800.273.TALK (8255) – Veterans Press ‘1

  * * *

  National Veterans Foundation Hotline

  1.888.777.4443

  * * *

  Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAIN) (24 Hours)

  1.800.656.4673

  * * *

  National Domestic Violence Hotline

  1.800.799.7233

  * * *

  National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence Hope Line

  1.800.622.2255

  * * *

  Gulf War Veteran’s Hotline

  1.800.796.9699

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Walking alone on campus at night is something my parents always cautioned me not to do. I understand they know best, but sometimes there are things that can't be avoided. The sun has just set, but the dark rushes to cover me like a blanket, causing me to hurry to my car. When Tad Kearny comes running up behind me and places his hand on my lower back while walking beside me, the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I quicken my pace trying to distance myself from his touch. I glance over and see he’s looking at me up and down in a way that is too familiar just like his unwanted touch. Despite my obvious efforts to clear myself from his contact, he keeps up, making small talk about classes all the way to my car.

  “How are things going in Professor Dixon’s class? He tough.” He laughs. “Do you need any help?” he probes.

  “He is but I think I got it. Thank you for the offer though.”

  “Sure. I have tons of notes. You should come over to my home one night and we can compare.” I smile at him as politely as I can muster without responding.

  Tad is one of our college’s premier students and athletes who excels in all areas. Academics, sports, but especially the social scene. He’s one of the lucky ones who, it seems, doesn’t have to struggle. He’s good-looking, rich and his mom is one of our state senators. Both she and her son are always on the local news. Their pictures are constantly splashed across the front of the lifestyle section of our city’s newspaper in their gowns and tuxes while attending social galas in Austin, our state’s capitol and some in Washington D.C. Sadly, the death of Tad’s father made the headlines for weeks. He was only in his fifties, handsome, active and by all outward appearances, he seemed healthy. His passing shocked his family, friends and Texas.

  Tad’s father, Nelson Kearny, was a philanthropist. His family has money. A lot. They own the largest Oil Company in Texas worth over a billion dollars. Kearny Oil Company, it’s been around forever. The family is known all over Texas, not for their wealth, but instead for their kindness and generosity. They sponsor and donate to programs for children, the homeless and schools all over Texas. Unlike Tad and his mom, the senator, the rest of his family is very private; their photographs are never in the paper.

  I observe a few students walking across the courtyard going from building to building, staring at us. Tad being as popular as he is; some students treat seeing him to the equivalent of seeing a movie star with his all-American looks of blonde hair and deep brown eyes. He’s a celebrity on campus.

  Tad’s asked me out several times, and it should flatter me, especially knowing he has his choice of girls, not only on campus, but all over the State of Texas. But I’m not. I just wish he would stop asking. We arrive at my car he asks me out again.

  “Bella let me take you out Friday. We’ll go out and I’ll even let you pick where we go,” he offers brandishing his cocky smile as he runs his finger down my arm.

  “Thanks Tad. But I have some exams coming up that I really need to focus on,” I respond, turning him down like I always do. Once again putting space between us to avoid his touch I turn and set my book bag down in my car’s back seat. I take a deep breath then turn back toward Tad to say thank you.

  “Come on Bella. Stop this game. You won. I’m chasing you.” He smiles but it’s laced with annoyance.

  “Tad. I don’t want you to chase me. I don’t like you like that. You’re my friend,” I try to explain.

  “Friend?” he scoffs. “Whatever. Let me show you what you’re missing.” He leans into to kiss me.

  “Stop.” I push him back but he grabs me rough around my arms and tries to kiss me again.

  "What’s your problem?" he growls. When he slams his mouth onto mine, I swear I think I’m being kissed by a devil himself. He’s hurting me. I keep trying to scream for him to s
top, but with his mouth violently pushing on mine, nothing comes out but my muffled cries. When I think it can’t get worse, he roughly reaches under my sundress and grabs me. I twist and turn away from him causing my dress to rip from my shoulder.

  "No!" I manage to beg as I start to cry. Fear and disbelief is causing me to shake violently but my head is screaming at me to fight.

  Only when a group of students walking to their cars, their laughter surprising him, does he stop. He keeps his body pressed against mine while looking back at them. They don’t notice us, and I realize if I don’t get their attention he’ll attack again. I can’t get a breath because of the force of his body against mine, and the panic running through my veins. His smell, it’s making me sick. I feel like I’m suffocating. I’m going to pass out. “Fight, Bella, fight!” my head screams. My eyes dart back and forth between Tad and the group, and finally I come to my senses and call out.

  "Help!" I yell as loud as I can right in his ear. He jerks around and grabs me by my throat.

  “Shut up!” he snarls. I struggle against his hold, my hands pulling at his wrists, my fingernails digging into his flesh while I kick my feet at him, but his grip tightens.

  “Help!” I struggle to call out again but it’s cut off by his grip on my throat. I’m sweating causing one of his hands to slip and I try to call out again.

  “Shut your fucking mouth.” He grabs me by the back of my neck to hold me still and his other hand goes over my mouth. I look behind him and thank God, my scream has does what I prayed for. The students notice us.

  “Hey, everyone okay over there,” one calls out.

  Tad finally releases me and backs off. I take a few desperate breaths as I scoot away. A few guys in the crowd break away from the others and start to towards us. I take my chance and shove him back even more and jump in my car in hopes to protect myself. I grab my phone to call 911 but before I can, my door flies open and Tad grabs the phone, holding it away.

  “Keep your mouth shut or I promise you’ll regret it. Your mom, dad and their little shop? I’ll make sure they go out of business. You sister, Victoria is it? She’ll get fired from her nursing job and never work in this town again. You, I’ll make sure you never walk across the stage at graduation and all your friends turn their back you. I mean, Bella, think about it. You know who my family is,” he hisses. “No one will believe you anyway.”

  What? How does he know all this about my family?

  “Everyone you care about, I’ll destroy and Bella, you know I can,” he threatens, his voice now calm. Before he closes the door leaving me cowering in fear, he winks

  I start my car and drive home shaking. When I get there I rush inside. I grab my phone to call my parents. I want to talk to Victoria. I want her advice. I want my mom. I need my dad but I remember Tad’s threats. I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror. My lips are swollen but not bruised. My throat, it looks okay. I hold the strap of my torn dress up on my shoulder and think; I didn’t like this dress anyway. I slowly bow my head and let the tears fall; knowing Tad's threats are going to keep me quiet. For the next couple of days, I hideout at home alone. I lie to my parents, telling them I’m studying while spending time pulling myself together.

  I sit in my parents' shop trying to stay awake after receiving another round of text messages calling me names last night. I turned off my phone, but my worry didn’t let me sleep at all. I’m lost in my thoughts as I remember the night on campus when Tad attacked and threatened me. I shiver and a hiccup of emotion escapes me. At first I didn’t tell anyone. I took him true to his words. Who would believe me anyway? Tad Kearny, Mr. Popular, is the son of a Texas senator, son of a billionaire. I’d convinced myself that not only would no one believe me, that it wasn’t really as bad as I was making it out to be. I began to question myself as to whether maybe I gave mixed signals, taking on guilt. My fear causing havoc in my mind. When the door of my parents' shop opens I shake myself out of those thoughts, thankful for the reprieve. Noah, a family friend, and our Fed Ex man, backs in the door pulling a dolly.

  “Hey Noah,” I chirp in my best cheerful voice. I rush around the counter when I see how loaded down with our inventory order he is.

  “Hey, bebita,” he responds. I hold the door open as he clears the entry. I smile and shake my head as he continues, heading into our storage area. “You here alone?” Noah calls out. He’s noticed my parents’ car wasn’t parked in its usual spot out front.

  “My parents are meeting with a client. They shouldn’t be much longer,” I explain as I make my way to him then stand just outside our storage room waiting. Noah is a very handsome Mexican-American man, maybe the same age as my dad or older. He looks like he could be Ryan Guzman’s father. Whenever he makes a delivery, and Dad isn’t here, he stores the inventory while visiting. In the brutal summer heat he hangs out enjoying the air-conditioned shop. “Noah, thank you so much. You do know I can do it, though.”

  “Why? So my momma can come out of her grave and beat me with her chanclas for not being a gentleman? No, thank you.” He shakes in faux fear and that makes me smile. “Plus, I don’t like you being here alone. I’m going to talk to your poppa again.” He stores the last box, scowling, but then his face goes gentle. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks as he pulls the dolly and heads towards me.

  “What?” I ask confused. Surly he can’t see how upset I am.

  “Don’t you what me. What’s going on? You’re troubled and don’t bother lying. I see it. I know you, bebita,” he accuses as he ushers me back out front.

  “It’s nothing,” I reply knowing full well that’s not truthful.

  “It’s something. Another reason to call your poppa?” he threatens.

  “School’s ended is all,” I say as I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve been set loose into this big, bad world so I’ve just been sitting here thinking about the future and what it holds,” I answer. Technically I’m not lying.

  “You’re worried?” he probes.

  “More than you know.” The words are out of my mouth, my smile gone before I can stop it.

  “Bella, what’s happened?” he demands. Noah comes closer and studies me. He glances at his watch. “Listen, bebita, put up your lunch sign and close. Let’s go grab something to eat. I’m texting your poppa and letting him know.” He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts texting. Knowing now any thoughts of saying no are gone I grab our “gone to lunch sign” and set the return time for an hour from now and place it in the window. I collect my purse and shop keys and head to the door where Noah is putting his phone back in his pocket.

  After I lock up, we head towards a nearby park where outdoor food vendors are lined up along the path that runs through it. We each grab tacos and a drink from one of the stands then find an empty bench where we set up and begin to eat quietly.

  “Let me know when you’re ready to talk, bebita,” he says softly.

  My thoughts are racing. What will Noah think of me if I tell him? Maybe he’ll think I brought it on myself. Doubt creeps in as I think back. Then I remember the day my friends shared and confided in each other about our own experiences. I was devastated to find that many of them had been physically abused by their boyfriends. I was heartbroken to learn some of the abuse started in high school, as young as fourteen years old. A few had even been date raped and felt such shame and guilt, blaming themselves. Like me, doubt crept into our minds and held us back from speaking up. The common denominator? We all blamed ourselves. Shame is a destructive tool used to cause doubt. This thought reminds me that I should tell. I should have told from the beginning. I'm only hurting the ones I love by keeping it from them. My eyes tear up a little as I begin to open up about what happened with Tad.

  “A guy from school, he hurt me,” I confess quietly, and place my lunch aside.

  “Say again?” he hisses, and his face transforms into one of anger. “What do you mean hurt?” He sets his lunch down as well and gives me his attention.

  I take
a deep breath and tell him what happened. I explain about what happened to my friends as well.

  “We found strength within ourselves and agreed we wanted to be brave like Jaycee McGinty? Do you know who she is?”

  “Yes. She is very brave. You’re friends with her, right?”

  “Yes.” I smile.

  “How is she doing?”

  “Very good. She’s engaged,” I happily share, and he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. What I’ve told him has upset him I’m sure. “We knew the people that harmed us needed to be exposed and stopped. She taught us that by her actions.”

  “I agree.” Noah nods. “Like her, you are so brave, bebita. You know, people who accept their sins, answer for them, and if they pray for forgiveness can be saved. The words in red tell us that. But a man, no, not a man...” He shakes his head with fury laced not only on his face, but in his voice. “Ones that do this, they are different. You can never trust them once you see this side.” He looks me dead in the eyes. “They do not change.”

  He’s right, I know. I nod in agreement.

  I believe everyone deserves a second chance, sometimes even a third. If they change, they may find redemption. Forgiveness can be granted. It’s those who don’t seek salvation, redemption and forgiveness that are the evil that walk on this planet. They have no conscience. No good and bad angel sitting on either shoulder guiding them. No Jiminy Cricket whispering in their ear to choose well. No soul.

  “Tad and the others were suspended from classes following the school’s investigation, which resulted in them being required to take anger management classes before they return, nothing more. Tad is out to get me like he promised he would just the same,” I share.

  “When I confessed to Mom, Dad and Victoria what happened it took us all to stop Dad from finding and killing Tad. I know I lost some of their trust by not going to them when it happened. We’ve always been open but I was scared because of Tad’s threat. I couldn’t bear seeing them get hurt. I didn’t like keeping it a secret. I hurt Dad the most. He thinks I didn’t trust him to protect me. It wasn’t that at all. I was trying to protect them but I was wrong,” I confess sadly. “I’ve never seen Dad wear such a look in my life. It was anguish laced with fury.” Like Noah’s expression now. “He promised that if the law didn’t take care of him, he would,” I inform him, worried.