Gemma's Daughter Read online

  “You know I can’t. I’ve got business in Phoenix tomorrow. But you’ll take my plane.”

  “What are you going to take?”

  “Four-hour drive. No biggie. Don’t worry about me. You go deal with that, and let me know if you need me to come. Then I’ll get there.”

  That was fair enough for Gemma. “Thanks,” she said. “Now get out of me so I can take a bath.”

  But Sal wasn’t ready to go. He began kissing her neck. “How about another round, sweetheart?”

  “You don’t have it in you, old man,” Gemma said with a smile.

  But then she realized Sal was already grinding again. And getting bigger and bigger again. And as he went deeper into her again, she realized just how wrong she was. Sal most definitely had it in him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gemma sat stoically beside another high-profile client, former Hockey star Jedidiah Hearst, as they sat in the gallery of the Vegas courtroom and waited their turn. Max McAlister, her co-counsel and an attorney in her law firm, sat on the opposite side of Jed. He was waiting too. Everybody was tired and grumpy. The judge’s docket was grossly behind because of his first case, slated for eight am, that dragged on and on until it was now in the afternoon and he was still hearing the morning cases. Jedidiah was getting antsy.

  He leaned against Gemma’s narrow shoulder. “How much longer?” he asked her. “We were supposed to be heard at ten this morning. This is ridiculous!”

  Gemma looked at her client. He was accused of a particularly heinous stabbing. She had miraculously managed to get him out on bail so that he didn’t have to sit in jail during their numerous pre-trial motions. But he was still ungrateful. He was considered a great man in the hockey rink. He was not a great man to Gemma.

  “After this case,” she said, “there’s one more ahead of us.”

  “Damn! One more? I thought we were next.”

  She had already told him the schedule. He had apparently not been listening to her. “No,” she said. “We are not next.”

  “Damn,” Jedidiah said again with irritation in his voice and flapped his suit coat closed. He was behaving as if the delay was Gemma’s fault. As if she was the one who caused his case to be set back by several hours. As if she wasn’t two seconds away from slapping the shit out of his arrogant ass and walking out.

  But she was known as a consummate professional and wasn’t about to ruin her reputation. To avoid cussing his ass out, and getting herself disbarred, she opened her folder, put on her reading glasses, and began reviewing her notes. She was a defense attorney. Defending creeps was part of the job. But defending major league creeps like Jedidiah Hearst? Sometimes she wondered if it was worth it.

  “State versus Sylvia Pendle,” the bailiff announced from the well of the courtroom and a woman in hand and leg shackles entered from a side door and was escorted by guards to the defense table.

  Jed leaned against Gemma again. “My case will be heard after this one, right?” he asked her.

  Gemma, a little annoyed but good at not showing it, looked up as Sylvia Pendle was seated at the defense table. “Yes,” she said. “We should be next.”

  “Should be?” asked Jed as he looked at her with alarm in his already wild eyes. “What do you mean should be?”

  Jesus, give me strength. “We’re next,” Gemma said, barely hiding her own irritation, and looked back down at her notes.

  “What’s the allegation, Counsel?” the judge asked the district attorney in the Sylvia Pendle case.

  “That she operated an illegal baby-stealing ring, Your Honor,” the assistant DA in charge said. “A ring that was just recently exposed because of the dogged determination of one of the mothers.”

  Although everybody in the gallery of the courtroom seemed fascinated to hear the details, Gemma continued to review her notes. She was a veteran lawyer who had seen and heard it all. A baby-stealing ring was no news to her.

  But when the judge asked where did the crimes occur, and the lawyer for Sylvia Pendle said Memorial-Mayhew School for Girls in South Bend, Indiana, Gemma looked up then.

  “That’s the only location in question?” the judge asked.

  “So far,” said the Assistant DA.

  “Extradition?”

  “She refuses to waive it, sir.”

  “How did the ring work?” asked the judge, and Gemma listened to the many details. But when the judge asked what years were they talking about, and the lawyer recited the years involved, Gemma’s pen fell from her hand. They had the right place. They had the right year. But when the assistant DA began reciting each count and specifically naming the days in those specific years that each count occurred, she waited with bated breath. And when it happened, when that certain day and certain year was recited, Gemma lost all strength and her hands gave way. Her entire legal pad crashed to the floor.

  Jed and Max looked at her. She looked ghostly to Jed. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

  As the judge asked the prosecutors what the State’s recommendation was on extradition for Sylvia Pendle, Gemma sat in what appeared to be a catatonic-like state.

  “Gemma, what’s wrong?” Max leaned over and asked. She looked weird to him too.

  But those details that lawyer had recited kept echoing in Gemma’s head. Told the mothers they were born dead. Funeral arrangements handled. Channeled through a backdoor. Memorial-Mayhew School for Girls. South Bend, Indiana. Told the mothers. Funeral arrangements. Backdoor. “I’ve got to go,” Gemma said as if she was in a state of perpetual terror.

  “Go?” Jed asked. “What are you nuts? You can’t leave. My case is next!”

  “I’ve got to go,” Gemma said again, as if she was terrified and had to get away. Bail for Sylvia Pendle was denied, and Sylvia was being led back through that side door, but Gemma was already heading out of the courtroom as fast as she could walk. Although her keys and her phone were in her suit coat pocket, and therefore with her by default, her briefcase was left behind.

  Jedidiah and Max were both shocked. But there was no delay. The judge was already desperately behind. “State versus Jedidiah Hearst,” the bailiff announced, and Max quickly stood up. “Get up,” he said to Jed.

  “But what about my lead attorney?” Jed asked.

  “I can handle it,” said Max.

  “I don’t have all day, counsel,” said the judge.

  “Go,” said Max irritably. He was no fan of Jed’s either.

  As Jed finally stood up and made his way into the well of the courtroom, Max quickly grabbed his boss’s briefcase and legal pad and made his way into the well too. He glanced at the back of the courtroom to see if the boss had come to her senses and was heading back to help represent their very high-profile client. But Gemma was gone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The electronic gate at the Gabrini compound swept open, the guards at the gate waved, and Gemma’s Bentley sped through. She could barely see in front of her, let alone see some muscle men giving her smiles and waves. She drove as if she wasn’t on a driveway, but was on a speedway, until she came to a screeching stop at the steps.

  Sal’s Bugatti was still there. Which meant he hadn’t left for Phoenix yet. Which gave her some solace as she jumped out of her car. But she was still in a fog as she ran up the steps.

  In her tight skirt-suit and heels, she ran like a track star up those steps, across their big porch, and up to the double doors so fast she nearly slid up to those doors. And as soon as she opened them, and hurried inside, she was calling his name.

  “Sal,” she cried. She needed him. “Sal! Sal!”

  She ran up one side of their double staircase, across the huge landing, and into their massive master bedroom.

  “Sal!” she cried as she entered. But there was still no Sal.

  When she finally stopped yelling long enough to realize the shower was running, she hurried into the master bathroom.

  “Sal!” she cried, and this time he heard her.

  Sal quickly ope
ned the shower’s glass door. When he saw his wife, and especially the state she was in, he frowned. “Gemma?”

  Gemma, as if so outdone she could barely hold up her own weight, fell against the wall and slowly slid to the floor.

  Sal, his heart now hammering, jumped out of the shower and hurried to her. His wife was not an emotional woman. He was the hot-headed, hot-tempered one. She was the cool-headed one. What in the world had happened to her?

  He fell on his knees and placed both hands on her small shoulders. “Gemma, what is it?” he asked her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Even though his penis ended up between her legs, pushing against her panties, he didn’t even realize it. She was in pain. The love of his life was hurting. He was too busy looking over her entire body to make sure she wasn’t injured. “Gemma, what?” he asked her. “What is it, baby?”

  Gemma finally looked at him as if she was just realizing that he was right there with her.

  “What happened?” Sal asked her. His face was unable to conceal his anguish. “What’s wrong?”

  Gemma shook her head. “She’s alive,” she said.

  “Who’s alive?” Sal asked her.

  “She might be alive.”

  “Who might be alive?”

  “She’s alive, Sal.”

  Sal was so worried that the lines of age began to crack his skin. Was his wife having some kind of mental breakdown? “Who’s alive, Gemma?” he asked her.

  Gemma shook her head again as tears appeared in her big, beautiful eyes.

  “Gemma, tell me who. Who’s alive, baby?”

  “My daughter,” Gemma said.

  Sal frowned. “What daughter?”

  “My daughter.”

  Now he was really worried. “Gemma, we have a son.”

  But Gemma was shaking her head again. “My daughter,” she said again. “My daughter might be alive out there.” She grabbed Sal by his muscular biceps. “Don’t you hear me, Sal? My daughter is out there. My daughter might be alive out there.”

  Then Gemma, unable to face even her own words, threw herself into Sal’s arms.

  Sal held her, as she sobbed uncontrollably. But his face could not hide his anguish. He was as confused as she was. What daughter could she be talking about, he wondered. What daughter?

  Had his wife, his beloved wife, gone mad?

  CHAPTER TEN

  They sat on the window seat in their bedroom. Sal, now in his bathrobe, sat with his back to the arm of the bench and his legs up on the bench. Gemma, no longer sobbing but now sitting in quiet devastation, sat between Sal’s legs, her legs up on the bench, too, and her back against Sal’s chest. Sal had poured her a glass of wine. She held the glass with both of her hands. She felt unsteady.

  Although Sal was anxious to know just what was going on with his wife, he was patient with her. She must have sipped on that glass of wine three or four times before she spoke.

  “I was sixteen,” she said. “He was twenty-three. He was a brand new teacher at my high school that they hired after our regular teacher suddenly retired. He was supposed to be helping us on this science project and he told me that he wanted me and three other students to come to his place one Saturday evening to discuss it. He figured I could join forces with the other students who were struggling with their projects too. So I agreed. I was happy to go. I needed the help.”

  Her face frowned, as if she was thinking about that evening all over again.

  Sal was already frowned. He could hardly breathe.

  “I had a job at McDonald’s and I got off at six,” Gemma continued. “After work, I went on over to his apartment. He said three other students were coming, but none of them had showed up yet. I should have left right then and there.”

  Sal was astounded. “Wait a minute.” He looked at her. “Are you telling me it’s true? You do have a daughter?”

  “But Sal,” Gemma started saying.

  But Sal’s anger flared. “Don’t Sal me!” he said. “Answer my question, Gemma. Are you telling me that you have a daughter in this world?”

  Gemma could hardly admit it to herself. “I believe so, yes,” she said.

  But Sal could hardly believe it for a different reason. “And you never told me?” he asked. “I thought Lucky was your first child. Why didn’t you tell me you had been pregnant before, Gemma?”

  “I didn’t want . . . I didn’t know. I mean, I knew. But I didn’t . . . It’s complicated, Sal.”

  “Like hell it is!” Sal angrily moved her aside and stood up. “You could have told me, I don’t care how complicated it was! You fucked around with some joker and got pregnant, and you didn’t bother to tell me about it? After all these years?!”

  Gemma was still too stunned by the news to even explain herself properly. She just couldn’t take more drama!

  “Gemma?” He yelled her name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Gemma couldn’t say why. The shame. The fact that she thought it was all over that day on the delivery table. She couldn’t say why!

  But her silence said it all to Sal. And he couldn’t take it. He thought he was the first. He thought he was the first and only man on the face of this earth to ever impregnant the love of his life. And he was hurt that she knew better and didn’t bother to tell him. It hurt him to his core.

  And he stormed out of the French doors that led to the sweeping balcony off from their bedroom, slamming the door so hard that one of the panes shattered.

  And he paced the floor of that balcony and paced it. He felt wounded, and angry. How could she keep something like that from him? He thought he was the first and only man to impregnate her. He thought he was the only one! But he wasn’t? He wasn’t?

  He couldn’t take it. He wanted to jump in his Bugatti and speed off forever. Fuck her! She could have told him the truth!

  But then he caught himself. In the middle of his rage, he stopped. This was Gemma he was talking about. His Gemma. He stopped thinking about his bruised pride and how she should have told him, and thought about Gemma. And how she felt! And suddenly, he was worried about her. She was devastated when she arrived home. She was calling his name as if he was the only person who could help her. But he was out there, on that balcony, too busy worrying about himself!

  He went back into their bedroom.

  When he saw that Gemma was still sitting there alone, with both legs bent and her elbows resting on her knees, crying her eyes out, his heart dropped. What was he thinking getting upset with her? What was he thinking!

  He went to her and lifted her into his arms. And then he sat down with her cradled on his lap.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, Gem.”

  She sobbed in his arms. But she also knew she had to tell him the whole story. No short cuts anymore. She had to tell him everything!

  When the sobbing eased, and she was able to continue, Sal remained quiet and listened to her.

  “I went to his apartment,” she said, “but nobody else showed up. And as the minutes ticked away, and no one came, I decided I was in a tough spot and needed to get myself out of that apartment. So I got up to leave. That’s when he just out of the blue kissed me.”

  Sal’s jaw tightened. The idea of it was angering him all over again. But he held his peace. Tears started rolling down Gemma’s face again, but she kept going. “When I pushed him away and called him a creep or something, and I was wiping my face where he kissed me, he grabbed me again, but that time he placed a gun to my head.”

  Sal was shocked. “A gun?” he asked.

  Gemma nodded. “He placed a gun to my head,” she said. “And then . . . and then . . .”

  Sal held his breath, and pulled her closer.

  “And then he raped me,” Gemma finally managed to say.

  Sal’s entire body tightened when Gemma said those words.

  “Afterwards, he told me he’d kill me and my parents if I told any living soul about what happened. He told me he’d kill me and my whole family.”
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  Sal waited for her to continue. When he realized she wasn’t going to, he managed to speak up without revealing just how upset he was. “What did you do?” he asked her.

  “I went straight to my father,” Gemma said. “That’s what I did.”

  Sal nodded. That’s his Gemma! “Good for you,” he said proudly.

  “He violated me once,” Gemma said. “Although I was terrified of him, I wasn’t remaining silent for him to violate me again.”

  “What did your old man do?”

  “He went to the police. Told me to tell them everything. They did the rape kit on me and arrested him. Because of his position of trust in the community, because he was a teacher, they gave him twenty-five-to-life in prison. He died in prison.”

  Sal was nodding. “Good,” he said. “Got what his ass deserved.”

  “And I got pregnant,” said Gemma.

  Sal had already worked that out in his mind. “By that rapist?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

  Gemma leaned her head and looked back at Sal. “Yes, Sal, who else? I wasn’t that kind of girl. I wasn’t sleeping around.”

  Sal leaned her closer. “I’m so sorry, baby, for how I reacted. It wasn’t your fault and I was behaving--”

  “You were behaving like a man who should have been told. I should have told you before we got married. But it was such a terrible chapter in my life, I didn’t want to ever relive it. Not ever.”

  Sal understood. Under the circumstances, he understood!

  “So you put the baby up for adoption?” Sal asked.

  Gemma was already shaking her head. “No. I decided it was my child, and I was keeping my child. Mom was against it. But Dad said whatever I wanted to do, he would support me.”

  Another pause. Sal’s instinct was to rush her, but his heart kept him from doing so. Although her slowness was killing him, he knew she needed to tell her story in her own time.

  “I had an ultrasound,” she finally said, “and found out it was a girl. A beautiful girl.” The tears returned. “And everything seemed fine. I was ready to be a mother. I was ready to take care of my child no matter what. Until my delivery day.”