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She went to her small bag and removed the tiny tree and her other things onto the bar and perched nervously on a stool.
Clark approached cautiously, and sat on the stool next to her. He reached over the bar and grabbed a towel. Mopping his eyes and wiping his nose, he stared at her in astonishment, as if his eyes could not process the reality before him. “I thought you were dead. I thought they’d killed you,” he blurted, then covered his eyes with his hands. “I mean, I thought someone…”
“Who, Clark? Who did you think killed me?” Brook’s voice was harsh. Tears shone in her eyes.
Clark stammered for a moment. “Look, I’m still in shock. I don’t even know what I’m saying. Your return took me by such surprise. Give me a minute; let me get my bearings.”
“No! You slipped and said something you didn’t mean to say. I want to know more about it. Who did you think killed me? Maybe Jase? Or Benny?” Her voice rose in volume and her shoulders were rigid with anger. “Your buddies?” She paused at his expression. “Or are they your employees?”
She pulled the sketches from her bag and laid them out on the bar. "Recognize these people? Do you?"
Clark gave the drawings a cursory glance and shook his head. "No. Why would I?" He swatted impatiently at the papers and one fluttered to the floor.
Brook picked it up and placed it on top of the others, stacking them neatly. Her hands trembled. "Just stop lying, please. After all I've been through, you owe me that."
Clark’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, lord.” He held his hands to his temples, as if his head might explode. The confession bubbled to the surface and burst out. “I’m so sorry, Brook. I got in way over my head. You were never supposed to be harmed. Not in any way! They didn't know about you, weren't ever supposed to even see you! It was just the car. They were supposed to take the car while you were inside the bookstore.”
Brook gasped, stunned by his admission. She decided to see how much she could draw him out, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Just the car? Never me?”
A great weight seemed to fall from his shoulders. "Right! Well! At least I'm glad it's out in the open. I've carried this burden all these months, and it's made me sick. Just sick, I tell you."
Brook shook her head, trying to absorb the shock. Although her subconscious had been preparing her for this moment, it still rocked her to her very core. Clark was the reason she had been hurt! She stared at him, her face twisted with horror and revulsion.
He couldn’t bear up under her gaze, and ducked his head.
Brook surprised both of them by slapping him hard across the side of his head.
"Good god, Brook!" Clark jerked back. He cupped his stinging ear and gaped at his wife.
She stared at her hand as if it belonged to someone else, then raised her eyes to his. Her body thrummed with adrenaline. She blinked at Clark. "I don't believe this."
"It's okay," he said. "I had that coming, I guess. But, don't do it again, Brook." He slunk away from the bar.
"You idiot! I'm not talking about hitting you. What I can't believe is that you would do any of this!" Brook slid from her stool and followed Clark closely. “Why, Clark? Why would you be involved with thieves? Criminals?”
Clark's head shot up. He stared at her in amazement. “Do you really think I can afford this life-style on my wages? Six cars? Swimming pool? Three thousand square feet of living space. The Club. Come on, Brook, you can’t possibly believe that I make that much money.”
“How would I know how much you make? You never shared those details with me. The only thing I could possibly conclude from your actions was that you had money; lots of money.” She drew a card from the deck of hate and discontent with which they were playing. “Besides, you come from a wealthy family. You always threw that around like it was something special. What about your parents’ money?”
“What about it? That’s their money. Not mine. I may get some of it when they pass away, but they’re still fairly young. They could spend it all by then. And more power to them if they do. It is theirs, after all.”
“That's true, but what about your trust fund?”
“Trust fund?” Clark laughed ruefully. “My dad never believed in trust funds. He believes a man should make his own way in life. Jesus Christ, Brook.”
“Okay. But…”
Clark cut her off. “You know, most of this is your fault. I don’t need all this pretentious shit to live. I buy it for you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t need more money than what the firm pays.” He stood and paced in front of her, hands in his pockets.
“For me! For me? How dare you. I’ve never asked for a single thing you’ve given me. I never wanted this house. This lifestyle. This is all you. You’re a pretentious asshole and you can’t blame this on me.” She waved her hands to encompass their surroundings. “And as for the Club; well, I’ve never felt welcome there and I never will. This is not my life, Clark, it’s yours! This and The Club. Do you really believe I fit into that bunch of anal-retentive busybodies? I speak to exactly two—count them, Clark—two women in that hellhole and I don’t trust either of them. And as for the Ferrari. God save me for enjoying the looks of envy when I drove it; but you know the truth on that matter also. I never, never wanted that car. You wanted it…” Brook stopped dead.
Holding up her hand in recognition, Brook spoke slower. “You wanted it. The car! You planned this from the very beginning, didn’t you? You doubled your investment. Sold the stolen car, then turned around and collected the insurance money. Oh my god. I can see it clearly now!”
“You don’t have a clue, Brook.” Clark walked around the bar and poured a scotch and water.
“I don’t have a clue? I’m not the one breaking the law. I’m not the one who set up someone I supposedly loved to be taken by animals. To be abused for days. They raped me, Clark! Those filthy pigs raped me! They planned on killing me.” She sucked in a ragged breath, anger and heartache warring inside her. “I do have a clue. You don’t!” Brook’s voice broke and tears ran down her cheeks. “They hurt me so badly! Over and over again, Clark." She took several deep breaths. “Wait! Let me think. Oh lord! Please tell me you didn’t actually plan for them to take me too. That you didn’t plan to collect the life insurance on top of the auto insurance.” Sick with new feelings of suspicion and dismay, Brook sank onto the nearby sofa and dropped her head into her hands.
“Brook…” he reached out a hand, beseeching her, but she slapped it away.
