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"Violent doesn't begin to describe him," Dillon insisted, raising his hand to stop Benjamin mid-sentence. "I tried to get Victoria out of the room. I was pushing her toward the door. That was when Jon said he'd see me dead before he allowed her to be with me.
"He lunged at me and grabbed my arm, trying to keep me from leaving. I grabbed his wrist and tried to push his arm down. Victoria tried to push us apart—then the gun fired."
Dillon stopped, covering his face with his hands.
"Dillon," Benjamin snapped.
Dillon dropped his shaking hands, his lips trembling so hard Benjamin had to stare at him to make out the words. Tears dripped from the man's nose. "I didn't know she was hit until she…she…she fell."
Benjamin only caught bits and pieces of the rest of the story. Unshed tears blurred his vision. Dillon was so distraught he often looked away and Benjamin couldn't see his lips. What he caught was horrible. Victoria fell to the floor. He held her while her blood seeped into his clothing and the rug beneath them. Jon tried to push him away until they were both covered in her blood. People came in, but Dillon didn't know who. Didn't care. He just held Victoria until the paramedics pried her body from his arms. Then the police took him into custody and later read him his rights and put him under arrest.
Benjamin swallowed against the lump that filled his throat. He almost wished for a cup of bitter coffee.
Now that he knew the truth, how could he go back to that house? Face his father. He had no doubt this was the truth. Everything Dillon described sounded like actions Jon Roth would be fully capable of doing. But how could Benjamin face the man without wanting to squeeze the life from his murderous heart? How could he look into the face of the man who fathered him, and not see a demon? A greater beast than he had ever known?
Somehow, he would find a way. Until he could prove his father as the violent bastard he was.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Good morning! Thank you for calling Bulwark Mutual Funds, office of Benjamin Prescott Roth and Jewell Kincaid. April speaking. How may I help you?"
Jewell chuckled softly into the phone mouthpiece. "Do you take a breath when you say that?" she teased.
"Jewell? Where are you? This is bizarre. Mr. Roth hasn't come in yet this morning either," their assistant said quickly.
"That's why I'm calling. We won't be in until Thursday at the absolute earliest, perhaps not at all this week. I need you to cancel all meetings we've got set up between now and Friday and reschedule until next week. Anything we're supposed to attend, please pass the word on we won't be there."
"We? Why? Jewell, what's going on?" Then Jewell heard April gasp sharply. "Are you with Mr. Roth?"
Jewell rolled her eyes and shook her head. "April, don't get nuts on me. I need you?—"
"Oh, my God," April blurted, accentuating each word. "Where are you? I can only imagine where Mr. Roth would take you. I knew something was going on between you two. I just knew it!"
"April," Jewell said loud enough to get through the other woman's ravings. She heard a small hiccup sound as April reined in her enthusiasm. "Are you done?"
"Sorry. What should I give as a reason?"
Jewell looked to her left and right down the wainscoted and fabric-paneled hall to see if anyone might be within earshot. She saw no need to aggravate things with Benjamin's family any more than she had to right now. This was the morning of day three in Hartford and things were as tense as when they arrived, if not more so.
She sighed heavily. "Mr. Roth's sister was…" she stuttered over the words. "His sister was seriously hurt on Friday, and I came to Hartford with him. To help interpret," she tagged on.
April groaned. "Oh, how terrible."
Jewell blinked back the tears that burned her eyes. She cleared her throat. "Yes, it is. All you need to say is there is a serious family situation. Mr. Roth will return when his family obligations are done."
"That's Mr. Roth. What about you?"
Jewell sighed and swallowed against the lump in her throat. Her nerves were raw and her stomach had been in knots for three days. The worst part was the growing distance between her and Benjamin. The first night here, if the three hours they slept counted, he stayed with her. She slept in Benjamin's arms the entire night and awoke warm and content beside him.
The second night, Benjamin was physically in the room with her, but Jewell knew his mind was somewhere else. He didn't lie in bed with her, but sat in a chair and stared into space. Jewell asked him to join her, and told him he needed the rest, but most of her signs went unanswered. When she woke up the next morning, the chair was empty and his side of the bed had gone undisturbed.
Last night he never came to the room. At three in the morning, Jewell went looking for him and found Benjamin asleep on a downstairs couch. She knelt beside him and watched him sleep for several minutes. Even at rest, his brow furrowed in deep lines and his eyelids shifted impatiently. Jewell didn't wake him. He needed rest, and if he got it best away from her then so be it.
The little things Jewell observed bothered her most. Benjamin's aversion to meeting her gaze and his avoidance of physical contact, no matter how slight or inconsequential, didn't go unnoticed. He kept his hands buried deep in his pockets most of the time and made sure to stay at least an arm’s length from her when they were near each other. The constant expression of frustration and annoyance weighed heavily on her heart.
"Jewell?" April probed, snapping Jewell back from her silent musings.
She chuckled wryly. "Tell them we ran off and got married." Jewell heard no response and assumed April was at a loss against her uncharacteristic attitude. "I'm sorry, April. Quite honestly, I don't have the patience to think of any excuse other than the truth. I'm here assisting him, that's my job. I assist."
