Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
I searched for something to grab ahold of, a thought that would bring me back to reality. My kids were safe. That mattered dearly to me, and it was reality. Because of what I did, my kids were safe, and they would continue to be safe here.
Though the Cartwrights were behind all of this mess, and they were still around, their resolve was shattering. James and I didn’t even have to do anything. They were, supposedly, tearing themselves apart. I secretly hoped that continued to happen.
Was I wrong for thinking that way, though?
I shoved those thoughts aside, reasoning with myself that I needed to stop thinking through this stuff too much. I nearly jumped out of my skin as my phone rang. I looked toward it, realizing yet another problem was coming up here and now. Neal was calling.
Dealing with him and his ‘do you miss me’ issues right now would do the opposite of helping me. I bit my lip, sincerely not wanting to take this call. After our last conversation, I’d only felt worse, and I’d be content if he never spoke with me again.
Still, there may be a good reason he was calling. He was a big part of why Ronaldo and the mob in general had been wiped out. He’d worked with Giovani and his people for that, which had helped us out a lot.
There was a battleground in my head as the phone continued to ring. I kept reading his name over and over again, wanting to delay the inevitable. Eventually, I exhaled sharply and pressed the green button, knowing I couldn’t avoid this forever.
I intentionally took my time to bring my phone to my ear. The silence would stretch a bit before I answered, and my stomach just continued to twist. Not only was it that mysterious illness, but anxiety was now causing this to worsen.
A few moments later, I said, “Hello?” My voice wasn’t the most kind, either. It was hesitant, dripping with a mixture of worry, anger, and sadness. I really wasn’t sure why he was calling me right now, but he had to know things were difficult.
“Becca,” Neal said on the other end. There was an awkward pause, and he said, “Look, I’m sorry about the last call. I promise that’s not why I decided to talk with you. I could have texted to say that, but I wanted you to actually hear it from me.”
“You put me on the spot,” I said flatly. “Neal, I’m going through a lot right now. I can’t really handle anything at the moment. There’s so much that’s been happening. I just can’t.” I shook my head, tears starting up again as everything hit me.
“I understand, Becca,” Neal said, trying to console me. His voice, and his words, weren’t all that reassuring, but I didn’t hang up on him this time. Rather, I let out a sigh and kept my eyes shut for a moment before replying again.
“I hope you do. There is so much on my shoulders. I killed someone, Neal. Allison. I didn’t mean to kill her, but she’s dead. It was self-defense. Everyone knows it. I still don’t feel right about it,” I said, shuddering with another cry.
“I heard,” Neal replied. “I am so sorry to hear that, Becca. It’s really hard. I understand that, too. Taking a life is no small thing.”
“You’ve killed before, plenty of times, I’m sure. Sometimes with no remorse. Are you sure you understand? Given your family history,, it should just come naturally,” I replied. “I haven’t killed anyone before. I didn’t ever want to. Allison was going to hurt my daughter, though, if I didn’t.”
“I’ve killed a few people before and regretted it,” Neal replied, his voice breaking a bit. I could tell there was guilt dripping from every word he spoke now. I blinked in surprise, not having figured Neal would feel remorse for what he’d done.
“Really? Did that.. Feeling ever go away?” I asked, choking a bit. My stomach twisted, and I said, “Hang on. I need to put you down. I’m not feeling well. I’ll be right back.” I quickly put the phone aside and rushed to the bathroom.
After vomiting yet again, my body feeling very weak from the experience, I let out a heaving sob. This was all so terrible. I just wanted to feel better for one moment. To balance either my physical issues or my mental ones, but not both at the same time.
When I looked into the mirror, I noted the faraway look in my own eyes. A frown settled on my face as I sniffled and shuddered. The bags under my eyes were much deeper now. I was struck with how exhausted I both looked, and was.
After cleaning myself up once again, I returned to the room and picked up the phone to continue my conversation with Neal. “Sorry,” I muttered. “On top of everything, I’m feeling sick. I’m not sure if it’s the flu. I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”
“Weren’t you at the hospital? Did they give any advice or speculation as to what could be wrong? Could it be the guilt eating at you, or something else?” Neal asked. I shook my head, then realized he couldn’t see me doing that.
“This started before the Allison thing,” I said. “I wanted to leave the hospital so I didn’t make a big deal about how I’m feeling right now. I needed peace, and to be at home. I think I should have said something, though. This is only getting worse.”
“I hope you’re able to figure it out, Becca,” Neal said softly. “Where were we? I know you probably don’t want to talk to me much, but I wanted to reassure you.”
“I asked if that feeling ever went away. The guilt after killing someone you didn’t mean to,” I said, doubting his answer would be anything I wanted to hear. Wanted and needed were two different things, though. I definitely needed to hear his answer.
“It didn’t,” Neal said, confirming my fears. I felt my stomach twist, this time not from that sickness, though I wasn’t sure which was worse. The emotional, mental drainage, or whatever was happening with me physically.
“I see,” I whispered, every word dripping with despair. I may not have been able to see well in that hallway, but my eyes had adjusted enough that I saw the expression of surprise settle on Allison’s face as the light faded from her eyes.
The fact that her expression would haunt me forever caused me to let out a light sob. Though, her words also bombarded me. What would happen to Dahlia if she did what she did. I wasn’t sure if I should feel guilty about feeling so, well… guilty.
I had saved my child and myself. If I hadn’t acted in self-defense, we both would be dead. I wanted to live, certainly, but the fact that she threatened my child should reassure me that what I did was not bad. Yet, it didn’t.
“You will be okay, Becca,” Neal said softly. He sounded as though he wanted to say more, but didn’t for a long pause. I leaned back in my chair, wondering if I should keep quiet, or pry. I decided to stay quiet for now until he spoke again.
“I am so sorry. The guilt may stay with you forever, but it may fade eventually, especially since you had a just cause. Unfortunately, one of the times I regret most happened recently. My accident killed someone innocent.”
“What do you mean, someone innocent?” I asked. There was a sigh on the other end, and I could tell the man was fighting with himself inwardly to see if he should tell me something that disturbed him deeply.
How many innocent people did he kill, I wondered? Was this particular situation something special, something different? I didn’t feel like he killed without cause, usually, so I doubted the number was high, or even greater than one.
That said, I was patient, and waited once more until he spoke again. “The life I took that I didn’t mean to was Tally’s, Becca. I’ve been holding this with me for so long. I shot the bullet that killed Tally, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”
A wave of confusion crashed over me, and eventually, I blinked several times. What was he talking about? I tried to think about that entire situation and was drawing a blank. Did no one tell him what actually happened?
I think he assumed there was shocked silence on the other end because I heard him swallow nervously. In a frightened tone, Neal asked, “Hello? Becca, are you still there? I’m sorry. Really. I’m sorry.”
“No,” I whispered. This entire thing was surreal. “No, you didn’t kill Tally, I mean. Neal, you shouldn’t be living with this guilt because it wasn’t you.”
Becca.
After a pause, I said, “Neal, you didn’t kill Tally.”
There was silence on the other line for quite some time. I leaned back in my chair, wondering what could be going through his mind right now. I’d be able to explain what was going on soon for him, at least.
“What?”
“I saw the forensic report,” I said softly, glad at the momentary distraction from my own thoughts to reassure him. “The bullet that killed Tally wasn’t fired by your gun type. One of the Russians must have fired at the same time.”
Had he been living with this the entire time? I felt my heart clench. Clearly, he’d regretted it, and it was a source of so much pain. In fact, I heard a choked sob come from the other line. I smiled to myself at the fact that now he could have peace. I wish he would’ve said something to me when we lived together for all of those months.
“I… I thought that I’d been the one to do it,” Neal said, letting out a slight sigh. Relief spilled into his tone, and he said, “Thank you, Becca. For freeing me from that. I’m a good example of this being hard to live with. But… I will say yours is a different case.”
“How?” I muttered, reminded once again of what I’d done and shuddering. No matter how much I told myself that I needed to do what I did, and nothing had been intentional, here I was, self-hatred seething and ripping through me at killing someone.
“I know you’re guilty and didn’t mean to, but yours was a clear case of self-defense. Just keep remembering that. Keep remembering that if you hadn’t done what you did, you and your daughter would be dead,” he said.
Hearing it from others was definitely helping. I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. I said, “Thank you, Neal.” I gave a long pause, then let out a sigh. “I appreciate that. I’ll try to remember.” This conversation was helping me feel a little better, at least.
“You’re welcome. I can move on with my life because of you, Becca. I really do appreciate that,” he said. “Thank you for answering the phone.”
“I almost didn’t,” I said, my tone shifting to a very serious one. “Because of how you’d been acting, what with the ‘missing you’ thing and such. You can move on with your life, but not with me. I love James. Do you understand that?”
“I do,” Neal said. I could hear the honesty in his tone and let myself relax a little. Neal added, “I’m sorry for putting you through so much stress. I was lost in my head, I should have known to leave you alone and not ask questions that would burden you.”
“Especially after I tried getting settled with the kids,” I muttered, recalling that his question had come shortly after the court date. Speaking of which, I said, “Allison was sent here by the Cartwrights. They’re still at it. They lost one of their cards now, but…”
“I wouldn’t let it worry you too much, Becca,” Neal said. “Aside from sending Allison, what can they do? They probably paid for her ticket and everything, along with whatever convoluted plan she’d tried to pull on you.”
“Does that mean there may be an obvious link there?” I asked. Then, I bit my lip. “An international crime. I hope the news stations leave us alone.” I shuddered, not wanting cameras in my face or all of that mess.
“I hope so too,” Neal said. “Were you bombarded by people asking for interviews while trying to recover from what Allison did physically?”
