CHAPTER NINETEEN
Stacey
“Get out,” growled Pax into the phone. “Get out of the house now.”
“What?” I gasped. “Why?” The ring of my phone had woken me from my nap and it was dark outside now, the twinkling of evening stars just visible from my window.
“Where are you?” he rasped. “Where are you exactly?”
“I’m in my old room,” I said puzzled. “You know, down the hall from your old room.”
“Stacey,” growled Peyton into the phone. “Don’t bother to pack up. Just get your purse and make your way out like nothing’s wrong. Say goodbye to your mom, our dad, and then get yourself to the airport. Come home,” he commanded.
I was speechless. I’d come to White Plains to relax, to escape from the strain of the big city, there were no paparazzi here, no one to treat me like a leper. But now my steps were on the phone telling me to get on a flight asap. Why?
“Brothers,” I said slowly. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s happening. I’m not a little girl anymore,” I said firmly.
There was silence from the other end.
But finally Pax answered.
“Stacey, we found your perp,” he said in a low voice.
“You did?” I asked, suddenly limp, dropping to sit on my bedspread. The strength rushed out of my body and I felt suddenly drained.
Taking a deep breath I asked, “Who is it? Just some random guy?” I choked out. “An obsessed fan?”
Silence. And then Peyton’s voice came on the line again.
“An obsessed fan of sorts,” he said. “It’s our dad, Gordon.”
This time the phone dropped out of my hand. Gordon Jones, my stepdad? The guy who was married to my mom? The guy who was probably downstairs right now, eating dinner at the kitchen counter?
I could hardly believe it and slowly, I picked up my cell again with trembling hands.
“How do you know?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Sister,” said Peyton woodenly. “We wish it weren’t true, but it is. We found the missing tape and it’s Gordon in the room next to yours. He filmed you in the shower at your hotel.”
“But how?” I gasped. “How did this happen?”
“That’s the thing,” said my brother. “We got a hold of the hotel logs and a maintenance guy went to your room to fix the A/C around that time. That guy was Gordon,” he choked. “He filmed you.”
I came to life suddenly.
“Brothers,” I choked into the phone. “I have to go. I have to get out of here.”
“Go,” they agreed. “But be careful, sister. Don’t let him know we’re onto him.”
“I won’t,” I promised, my hand trembling as I hung up. Frantically, I began to pack an overnight bag, throwing things in haphazardly and then stopped, breathing hard. I couldn’t believe it. My own stepdad had filmed me nude? How could that happen? Was he filming me now? The realization made my skin crawl and feeling suddenly dirty, I grabbed my purse and ran down the stairs, coming to a halt in the kitchen.
“Honey what’s wrong?” asked my mom, taking in my flushed face and messy hair, still tangled from the nap. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.
“Nothing,” I said, craning my head, looking around furtively for my stepdad. Where was he?
Noting my distraction, my mom answered.
“Gordon went out to run some errands,” she said. “Why what’s wrong?”
And despite my promise to my steps to act normal, it all came pouring out.
“Mom, it was Gordon who made that video of me in the hotel!” I cried. “He posed as a maintenance man and came in and filmed me when I was in the shower. Your husband!” I almost screamed. “He did this, your filthy, disgusting husband, I hate him, I hate you. How could you?”
I expected my mom to be shocked, maybe even to fall into a faint. But she was silent, her eyes pleading with me.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she said slowly, her voice small. “I suspected.”
Instead, it was me who almost fell down.
“You suspected?” I gasped, my breath coming in short, sharp pants. “How? Why? What?” I could hardly believe my ears.
“Please baby, just sit for a minute, just listen,” pleaded my mom. “Please just listen.”
I couldn’t even reply, remaining stock still at the kitchen table, too stunned for words.
“Honey,” she said slowly, “when I married Gordon I was desperate. I was getting older, but older just means less opportunity for a woman of my age,” she said, her eyes begging me to understand. “When I met Gordon it seemed too good to be true. A handsome, intelligent widower with a good job, who was okay with my busy schedule. I was desperate to get married again, to feel loved and wanted.”
“And he made me feel that way, honey, he made me feel desirable, like I was eighteen again. So I married him as quickly as I could, rushed him to the altar, made him take his wedding vows without really knowing him.”
“But the joke was on me,” she said bitterly. “Gordon,” and here she choked, “hadn’t gotten dating out of his system. He was used to being the man about town and still wanted to live that lifestyle.”
I was completely thunderstruck. Gordon had always seemed nice, but really boring. I knew he’d dated around before settling down, but I hadn’t realized he was a heartbreaker. My stepdad had to be at least fifty, for crying out loud. Wasn’t that too old to be a player?
But my mom continued.
“It’s my fault,” she said bitterly. “I was so desperate for male attention, so lonely working all the time, that I pulled out all the stops to get that marriage certificate signed asap.”
Here, I nodded my head. I remembered how she’d sprung the wedding on me. We’d had a week to plan, a week to put together the elaborate affair at the country club.
But my mom wasn’t done unburdening herself yet.
“And after the marriage, things were fine at first. He seemed like a loving, doting husband, happy to have me as a breadwinner, it relieved the financial stress with two sons going to college soon.”
“But things started getting weird. He was looking at other women, staring at them too long, and,” here she choked again, “looking at you too long,” she said, shame suffusing her face. “I confronted him about it and he said that nothing was the matter, made me feel bad about even asking. So I backed off,” she said in a small voice. “Or rather, I paid him. I paid him to stay away from you, offering Pax and Peyton full rides to school if he stayed away from you.”
Now this time, I was taken aback. My mom had paid for my brothers’ college educations to get my stepdad to stay away from me?
As if reading my mind, my mom nodded slowly.
“It worked, at least I thought it did,” she said. “You were fine here, right?” she asked anxiously. “Senior year worked out for you, you only had a few months before graduating. I figured if I watched you like a hawk, everything would be okay.”
“But it wasn’t,” she continued sadly. “After you left and started getting famous, the fixation just got worse. Gordon would videotape your games, watching them again and again,” her voice dropped off.
“When did you know?” I asked woodenly. “When did you know?” I asked again, my voice sharp.
“Honey, I didn’t know know,” she said looking down, her voice ashamed. “I just suspected because Gordon was gone around the time the scandal happened. He told me he was on a boys’ fishing trip in Florida, but I think he followed you to Atlanta and made the video then.”
This was more than I could process, my mind spinning. My stepdad was a stalker who’d filmed a naked video of his own stepdaughter, and my mom suspected the entire time? The enormity of the situation made me nauseated and the floor zoomed at me suddenly. Reaching out blindly, I clutched the kitchen table to stop my fall, swallowing hard as my stomach heaved. I had to get out of here. Blindly, I picked up my purse and spun on my heel, turning towards the door.
“Please Stacey,” cried my mom, clutching my arm. “Please understand,” she pleaded, “he’s all I have. I was so lonely, I’m still lonely, please honey, please,” she begged.
But I just shook my head wordlessly. My mom had betrayed me, working for her own interests instead of protecting her daughter. With a silent shake, I threw off her arm and let myself out the front door, closing the door quietly.