Forbidden Love Read online

  No sooner was that done than the doorknob turned, making me jump and clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.

  “Mariska?” Jared said, from a distance of less than three feet away. “Open the door, Mariska.”

  His voice sounded angry and demanding, and though it was impossible, I felt as though he could actually see me through the door.

  I slipped into the bedroom and dialed Angela, but she must’ve gone out, because she didn’t answer. I thought of calling the police, but what would I tell them? That a man I’d had sex with wanted to come and see me again? That should entertain the men at the precinct for a while.

  When I gathered my courage and went back into the living room, padding across the carpet in bare feet, there were no more sounds coming from the hallway. It was dark in the apartment now, but a side window opened onto the street, and I went cautiously over and looked out and down onto the cars parked below at the curb.

  “Oh, no,” I moaned, seeing the distinctive top of Jared’s little car, three stories below. He was still someplace near the building!

  I turned—and practically ran into a dark form that had come up behind me. I’d have screamed, if Jared hadn’t clamped his hand across my mouth to prevent it. With his other arm, he jerked me roughly against him, laughing.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “How did you get in here?” I cried when he released me.

  “I woke you when I called, didn’t I, precious? You didn’t understand when I told you that I was coming up. You’d have let me in if you’d understood me, wouldn’t you?”

  Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea to agree with him. I managed a nod. Then I backed slowly away until I felt the door behind me, but there was no way I could release the deadbolt and the lock, and still have time to escape before Jared grabbed me again.

  “We’re soul mates, Mariska. Remember? Nothing can ever come between us.”

  Jared rambled on and I kept quiet, desperately trying to think of an escape.

  “Did you file for divorce yet?” he asked. “Has Frank moved his things out of the apartment?”

  Frustration made me forget my resolve to humor this madman. “I’m not going to divorce Frank, Jared,” I told him firmly. “I’ve told you that already. Jared, you have to understand that I’m married to the man I love. The reason I was so disappointed, and hurt, the night of our anniversary, is because I love him so much.”

  I’m not sure what would’ve happened if Jared had actually comprehended what I was saying. But he twisted my words around and applied them to himself.

  Had the man been insane all along, and I’d been too stupid to notice? Or can insanity strike instantly? I only knew I wouldn’t be safe unless Jared was out of my apartment and out of my life for good. I forced myself to try and remain calm. To think.

  “Jared, I have to get some rest. Frank will be here any minute and I need to talk to him.” Frank wasn’t due home for three more days, but the last part of that sentence certainly wasn’t a lie.

  “Did you come in the back door?” I asked, knowing that was the only plausible answer to his presence. Apparently, he’d had keys made, probably the night he spent with me. “Let me walk you out,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

  At that moment, the phone rang. I sprang to answer it, grateful for any outside contact.

  “Mariska, did you just call? I was out jogging, and when I came in, I found your number on my call return.”

  Angela’s voice had never sounded sweeter. “Frank!” I said loudly. “Where are you?”

  I hesitated a moment, and tried not to think about what must be going through Angela’s mind.

  “Downstairs?” I managed a laugh. “I just can’t get used to cellular phones! Okay, I’ll see you in two minutes.”

  I hung up and turned to Jared. It wasn’t necessary any longer to mask the panic I’d felt since I’d found him in my apartment. It came through in my voice as I urged him toward the kitchen.

  “Frank’s on his way up in the elevator,” I said. “Let me show you out. You don’t need to be here when I break the news to him.”

  Jared looked a bit confused, but he headed toward the back door, nevertheless.

  “You’ll get him out tonight?” he asked.

  “I don’t have time to discuss it right now. He’s almost here.”

  We’d reached the back door, which opened onto a tiny landing with a steep flight of stairs descending to the alley below. It didn’t have a bolt, but I could nail it shut if I had to.

  “Go,” I urged him. “Frank will be at the front door any minute now. I have to let him in.”

  Jared frowned, but he bent to kiss me quickly, and then went out. “Call me when he’s gone,” he said. “I’ll move my things in tomorrow.”

  I didn’t reply. I closed the door and jumped toward the kitchen phone, my hands shaking so hard that I had to dial three times before I got Angela’s number right.

  “Can I come over?” I asked the moment I heard her voice. “Angela, you were right. Jared Beacon is insane!”

  Angela didn’t ask questions. She simply told me to throw some things into a bag and get out of the apartment as quickly as possible. “I’ll call the cab myself, and if you aren’t here in twenty minutes, I’m calling the police.”

  I stayed with Angela that night, grateful for her hospitality and her support. When we arrived at work together the next morning, I called a locksmith and arranged for him to meet me at my apartment that afternoon. I told him to bring along everything he would need to keep someone from breaking in.

  At ten o’clock that morning, Jared stepped off the elevator and strode over to my desk. Angela left her station immediately and came over to provide me with moral support.

  “You lied to me, Mariska,” Jared said at once, his voice bitter and bruised. “I trusted you, and you lied. Frank didn’t come home last night. I phoned and you didn’t answer, so I went back, and you weren’t there. I waited for you all night long.”

  The thought of this man waiting for me in my apartment, literally lying in wait, made me physically ill. But I didn’t have time to indulge myself at the moment. This would probably be the best chance I would ever have to finally get through to this sick man.

  “Jared, I’ve told you all along that I have absolutely no intention of ever divorcing Frank. You have to understand that.”

  Finally, he did. I saw his eyes register the information, and then something happened which I would never have expected. Jared completely lost control.

  He began shouting curses as he picked up whatever was in reach and threw it. The telephone bounced off the wall. He grabbed a stand with a fax machine and roared with rage as he flung it aside.

  Angela and I took refuge in the women’s rest room. Jared came after us, screaming what he would do to me for destroying his life.

  Security arrived, and two guards barely kept him from breaking open the restroom door. Finally, city police officers were summoned, and the four men managed to subdue him.

  Mr. Steadman talked to me in his office, then allowed me to wait there while he went down to the police station to find out from Jared what was going on.

  I don’t suppose I’ll ever know for certain what passed between the two men. I do know that Jared possessed exceptional persuasive skills.

  When Mr. Steadman came back, he said, “Mariska, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve been with our company for six years and I would never have expected such behavior on your part.”

  My nerves had settled down by then, leaving me numb inside. “Mr. Steadman, I’m prepared to accept blame for my part in all of this, but I’m not about to confess to something I haven’t done.”

  Mr. Steadman waved a hand in the air to stop me. “I don’t want to hear a confession,” he said abruptly. “I simply want things to return to normal as quickly as possible.”

  “Has Jared been . . . transferred?” I asked, choosing that word at the last
minute, because asking if he’d been fired presumed a little too much.

  “Of course not,” Mr. Steadman said, his steel gray eyes riveting mine. “Jared Beacon is one of the best salesmen I’ve ever employed and I’m not about to lose him over a tawdry affair with some. . . .”

  His voice trailed off before he spoke the words. I swallowed hard and waited, knowing I might very well need to keep this job after I’d told Frank what had happened. And I would tell him. At long last, I’d made up my mind.

  “I’m putting you on suspension, Mariska. If you can manage to remind yourself that you’re a married woman and stop harassing Jared, I’ll keep you on. But I absolutely refuse to tolerate any further misconduct from you. Is that understood?”

  Arguing would have cost me my job. Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded meekly and left the room.

  Jared was waiting for me at my apartment when I arrived home that night. At least he’d had sense enough not to confront me in the office parking lot.

  I speeded up and drove past. Jared pulled out and followed me, and the only safe place I could think to go was the police station, six blocks away. Minutes later, when I swung over to the curb out front, Jared sped off.

  I went inside, and when a sergeant on duty had heard my story, he shook his head in sympathy.

  “The world’s full of kooks,” he said. “Unfortunately, our state doesn’t have a law which will protect you, unless he’s done some real physical harm.”

  “Then . . . what can I do?”

  The man shrugged. “Short of hiring a bodyguard, I’d say just watch your back. Get some good locks installed and be aware of your surroundings at all times. Sounds like the guy’s getting out of control. Maybe someone else’ll trigger him, and he’ll get himself arrested. Or maybe he’ll find another girlfriend and leave you alone.”

  He checked through some files on a nearby desk, then looked up at me. “They ran him through this morning, as a matter of fact. He comes up clean. Your boss stood up for him so they let him go.”

  I left the station feeling like the weight of the world rested on my shoulders. It was bad enough when I realized I had no choice but to tell Frank. Now, who could predict what Jared was going to do next?

  Jared’s car was nowhere to be seen when I reached my apartment the second time. Still, I went cautiously into the lobby, ready to scream at the top of my lungs if he stepped out of the shadows.

  He didn’t. But it would be several days later before I learned why.

  I wanted to spend the night with Angela again, but I refused to place her in danger. And I had no place else to go.

  I don’t think I breathed until I was inside my apartment with the door locked. I’d missed the locksmith, so I had to rely on bracing the doors with chairs, as I’d done before.

  The light on the answering machine was blinking, and I hit the play button, expecting to hear Frank’s voice.

  It was Jared.

  “You’ll pay,” he said. “If you think the police will help you, you’re crazy. They’re all my friends now.”

  He rambled on until his time ran out. A lot of it made no sense at all, but other things were perfectly clear. Jared blamed me for everything that had happened. He was furious because I’d disposed of the flowers he’d sent.

  At first, I sat on the sofa, arms locked around me, and rocked back and forth in terror and despair. The man truly was insane.

  Then suddenly, it dawned on me that the answering machine tape was all I needed for proof of that fact. Gradually, I began to relax. When the phone rang, I answered it, and finally, I heard Frank’s voice on the other end of the line.

  My relief was so great that I started to cry. At that point, I wanted nothing in the world so much as to tell him what had happened, and find out if he could ever forgive me. After that, I would try to put my life back together.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Almost everything,” I said, weeping openly. “When are you coming home?”

  “That’s the reason I called—to tell you that I’m catching a flight out tonight. Our days apart are over, Mariska. I’m coming home to stay.”

  My heart ached, and I know the pain came through in my voice when I answered him. “If only that could be true. Frank, but—I’ve done a terrible thing. You may not ever be able to forgive me.”

  There was a slight pause, and I knew he was trying to digest this information. To think what I could possibly have done that would be too awful for him to forgive.

  “We’ll talk about it when I get there,” Frank said gently. “I love you, Mariska. I doubt you could do anything to ever change that.”

  “Oh, Frank—I love you more than life itself. If you can ever forgive me, I swear to you that I’ll never again give you any reason to doubt that love.”

  We hung up, and I went to pace the floor, going over and over the things I would say. In the end, I gave up. I would not shade the truth; I would simply state the cold, hard facts and pray that Frank could be as generous and loving as he’d sounded on the phone.

  I’ll never know what might have happened. I passed the remainder of that evening doing chores around the apartment to occupy my mind and keep myself from going completely insane with worry. Over and over, I checked the doors and looked for Jared’s car down on the street below.

  Then I got a blanket and lay down on the sofa to wait for Frank’s arrival. He’d said he was leaving at ten tonight, and his flight would take three hours. Including the forty-minute ride from the airport, he should arrive just before two in the morning.

  To my surprise, I eventually drifted off to sleep, and when I jerked suddenly awake again, I had no idea how much time had gone by.

  What had woke me? Had Frank tried the door and found it bolted? Was he going around to the back, or had he called out to me from the hallway?

  I got up and looked at the clock. It was one-forty-five, so I was certain that Frank had arrived. I called his name from beside the front door, and when he didn’t answer, I started through to the kitchen to remove the barricade I’d placed in front of the door there.

  But I could see through the little pane in the door that Frank wasn’t outside, and when I heard a popping sound from the front hallway, I ran back to the door there.

  “Frank?” I called loudly.

  “Open up.”

  His voice was muffled, but I had no reason to doubt his identity. I fumbled with the bolts and pulled the door back.

  Then I screamed in terror.

  Jared was standing there with a gun in his hand.

  Frank’s still form lay on the floor of the hall behind him.

  I tried to slam the door shut, but Jared caught it. As he pushed his way inside, I screamed for all I was worth. Then he caught me by the shoulders and shoved me out of the way. Turning, he closed and bolted the door behind us.

  Under normal circumstances, Jared could’ve overpowered me with one hand. He was six feet tall and muscular from his regular workouts at the gym. He outweighed me by at least eighty pounds.

  But these were not normal circumstances. As I backed through the apartment, still screaming, I grabbed every item in my path and used it as a weapon.

  Amazingly enough, I was still coherent, and instinct told me not to go to the bedroom. I went to the kitchen, instead.

  There, I slid my hand along the counter, still not turning my back on Jared. I felt the wooden block that held the steak knives, and I grabbed one of those and held it in front of me.

  Jared looked as though he were in some kind of trance. He advanced on me steadily as I waved the knife in his face and warned him of what I’d do.

  His smile didn’t fade, even when I slashed out at him, cutting his hand, which he’d raised to take hold of me. Blood spurted, and still he came at me.

  I lashed out again and again. I’d backed around the counter by then, and I felt behind me with one hand and managed to knock over the chair I’d placed under the back doorknob.

  I’d never have
managed to get outside, though. The few seconds it would’ve taken to open the door and step through would’ve given Jared the opportunity he needed.

  That didn’t prove necessary, though. I heard voices shouting suddenly, and noises that meant that someone was kicking open the front door.

  “In here!” I screamed, slipping out of Jared’s grasp.

  I didn’t elude him for long. Jared lunged and came down on top of me just as the policemen appeared in the kitchen doorway. His fingers closed around my throat—

  And the rest is a blur.

  I woke up on a stretcher, with men and women in pale blue uniforms standing over me. My throat ached, and I fought to breathe.

  “Everything’s fine,” a young woman assured me. “Calm down and you can breathe more easily.”

  I did as instructed, and found that she was right. “Frank?” I managed to get the word out, and of course, she misunderstood.

  “The police took him away. They had to pry his fingers off your throat and they thought he’d slashed you because of all the blood. But it was his blood, wasn’t it? You did a good job of defending yourself.”

  I was shaking my head furiously. “Not him. Frank. My husband.”

  “Oh,” she said, and then her smile faded. “I can’t tell you his condition. He was shot, I’m afraid. They’ve transported him to the hospital.”

  I was fighting to get up then. The pain in my throat disappeared as I forgot my own injury to concentrate on Frank.

  In the end, I convinced them that I could ride to the hospital in a car. On the way, I learned that a neighbor had called the police for me when he heard the gunshot and my screams.

  Frank was in surgery when I arrived at the hospital. After my examination, which determined only severe bruising, I was allowed to go into his room and wait for him to return from Recovery.

  I expected the worst. After all, the past two weeks had been a living nightmare; I’d lost all hope of ever really waking from it.

  Instead, Frank smiled at me before he was even moved from the stretcher. The doctor came along right behind him, wearing an even bigger smile.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t manage to talk to you sooner,” he said, “but it’s been a wild night in the emergency room. Frank’s wound is not by any means critical. He’ll recover with no ill effects.”