FanStory.com - Unfinished Brushstrokes Chap 20by Begin Again

Dylan paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, blaming himself for letting the paintings slip through their hands at the auction house. Jenna wasn't feeling much better, considering she now believed that Jackson might have been putting the paintings into the trunk of his car, which would explain why he was so nervous.

"We can't second guess ourselves, Dylan."

"I know the paintings were there, Jenna. I couldn't tell from a distance if they were the originals or forgeries, but I know I saw them, and then they disappeared."

"Maybe Garth will find something in the camera footage."

"Do you believe there will be any such footage? These criminals are masterminds at what they do."

"Well, you can't do anything about it tonight. Come, sit down, and drink your wine. I've something to show you." Jenna retrieved the box Helen had brought her and spread some of the letters on the table.

"Where did you get those, Jenna?" Dylan asked, joining Jenna on the sofa, happy to forget about the missing paintings for a while.

"A dear friend of Eleanor's brought them by early this morning. Some are letters Eleanor wrote to her during her time overseas, and I don't know what the rest of them are."

"How fascinating. They're like whispers from another time, connecting then and now." Dylan relaxed as he sipped his wine. "Have you read any of them?"

"I did this morning. I couldn't resist. Eleanor must have been so lonely in a foreign country with the war. I would have been terrified."

"Why did Helen bring them to you if they're letters written to her?"

"She said Eleanor wanted me to know more about her."

Jenna picked up one envelope and opened it. "Would you like me to read you a few? In some of the letters I read this morning, Eleanor wrote about meeting Charles and how he taught her the fine art of painting. I imagine that's why their work often looks the same."

"Yes, that makes sense." Dylan smiled at Jenna. "My uncle has often talked about the woman he loved and lost. I feel like I know her, yet we've never met." He sipped his wine and mused, "It must have been quite a love story."

"But circumstances kept them apart. How heartbreaking for both of them." Jenna picked up an envelope and gently removed the letter from inside.

Date: July 10, 1943

Dear Helen

I must confess something! I've kept a secret from everyone. Please don't think badly of me.

Jenna paused and lifted her eyes from the page. "I suddenly feel like I'm prying. Eleanor's about to reveal her secret to her best friend. Do you think she wanted us to read this?"

"She must have if she asked Helen to give them to you."

Jenna nodded. "I suppose you are right." She lifted the letter from her lap and read again.

It was odd being on foreign soil while you, our friends and family, and the nation were celebrating the Fourth of July back home. They did have a few fireworks here, too, though I have yet to learn their reason.

I'm not looking for an excuse because it just seemed so right. Charles and I —

Jenna's eyes shifted from the letter to Dylan. "Eleanor's secret is about your uncle. Should I continue?"

"It happened a very long time ago, Jenna. I doubt it could be anything that would matter now."

"Of course, I'm being silly." She began again —

Charles and I shared an indiscretion. It was a night of passion, yet I felt connected, as if we were one. Amid the chaos and the exploding bombs in the distance, we found solace in each other's arms. I know it was wrong, but Helen, I don't regret it. The memory of that night keeps me warm when my world feels cold.

I can trust you with these feelings because I know you, of all people, know me and how deeply I feel about things like this. It wasn't just two people satisfying themselves. I truly felt bonded to Charles, and regardless of what happens in the future, I will never feel any different.

Always your friend,

Eleanor

Jenna folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. "Times are so different now, aren't they? For Eleanor, those moments with Charles were engraved in her heart forever. I hope someday I find a love like that."

Dylan stared into the fire, thinking about all the times his uncle had sat staring at his paintings, and for the first time, he thought he understood. "Read another one, Jenna."

Jenna took the next one off the stack of letters and opened it. "This one is postmarked two weeks later."

Dear Helen,

I hope this letter finds you well. I don't know where to unburden my sorrow except for you. I'm sorry!

I am devastated. When I arrived at the hospital today, I was met with news that has shattered me. Charles has been shipped back to England without any prior notice. I didn't have the chance to say goodbye, and now I might never find him.

Charles and I shared something special, something that gave me hope amid this dreadful war. His presence was a light in the darkness, and now that light had been extinguished. A part of me has been taken away, and I am struggling to cope with the void left behind.

The reality of war has never been clearer to me than it is now. It takes away without warning, leaving us to pick up the pieces and carry on. I am trying to remain strong, but it is difficult when my heart feels so broken.

I wish I had more uplifting news to share, but this is where I am now. I miss him, Helen, and the uncertainty of whether I will ever see him again is unbearable.

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Your friendship means the world to me, and writing to you helps me feel a little less alone.

With love,

Eleanor

Tears streamed down Jenna's cheeks. "That's why they never were together. How devastated she must have been. I can't imagine being torn apart like that and unable to say goodbye."

They both sipped their wine and stared at the flickering flames, lost in their private thoughts.

*****

Across town, at Bayside Medical Center, an unconscious Nick fought his own demons. His breath was shallow and irregular. The pain in his head was a constant throbbing ache. He could faintly hear the soft chatter of hospital staff and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.

A nurse approached, adjusting the IV drip. Nick's eyes flickered open, and he tried to focus on her face.

"Docks — seventeen — Da telli" Nick mumbled, his voice barely audible. His head rolled from side to side as his fingers clutched the bedsheets. "Help."

His nurse patted his arm as she tried to calm him. "Sir, you need to relax. You're in the hospital, and no one will harm you here. I'll tell Doctor Springsteen you asked for him."

Nick's gaze grew distant as the nurse brushed aside his fragmented words. He mumbled, "Not safe."

The nurse shook her head. "Don't worry. Try to sleep. You're safe with us." She noted the erratic ramblings in his chart and that he was most likely reliving the beating.

As she left his room, she mentioned to the guard stationed outside that he might hear some mumblings, but it was nothing to be concerned about. Their chance of finding Megan slipped away.

*****

Megan felt her heart beating wildly against her chest. The chains on her wrists and ankles were tight and dug into her skin when she moved. The cold, rough concrete floor sent shivers up her spine. Despite being blindfolded, Megan detected faint murmurs and whimpers nearby.

Terrified, she whispered, "Is — is anyone there?"

A deafening silence surrounded the sixteen-year-old. With a trembling voice, she tried again, "Please — Is anyone here?"

After another brief silence, a quiet voice responded somewhere to Megan's left. "I'm here. My name's Emma."

Swallowing hard, Megan whispered, "I'm Megan. Do you know where we are?"

Emma's voice was shaking as she whimpered, "No! I remembered stairs and rough limestone walls when they brought me here." Emma hissed, "There are other girls, too."

Another voice joined the conversation. "We're in the underground storage area of an old barn. I heard them talking when they brought several of us in. My name is Sarah."

Megan's lips quivered as she fought back her tears — the sound of clanking chains as the other girls shifted uncomfortably sent chills through her body.

Megan's voice cracked. "How — long — have you been here?"

Sarah sighed. "I've lost track of time. It feels like forever, but it might be five or six days. Maybe longer."

Emma's mousey voice whispered, "They said — they're going to sell us."

Megan's breath came in short, shallow gasps as panic set in. "Like — cattle?"

"Not like a herd, but one at a time to the highest bidder."

"But we're humans. That's against the law," Megan wailed.

Sarah, a willowy brunette with a few more years than Megan, chuckled. "Honey, not anymore. You are going to be someone's sex toy. And they call all the shots."

Sarah's comments sent the others into a tizzy. Crying and moaning filled the room, telling Megan there were more girls there than she thought.

After a few minutes, an eerie silence settled across the room until Sarah spoke. "I've been trying to keep track of their movements. A guard checks on us every few hours. Maybe we could overpower him."

Drawing strength from Sarah's bravado, Emma asked, "But how? We're blindfolded and chained."

Fear and desperation claimed Megan. "I want to go home."

Sarah's tough shell softened. "I know it's scary, but we can't give up."

Megan's thoughts drifted to her family. Suddenly, her mother's helicopter ways and Trevor's irritating habits weren't all that bad. She tried to focus on the good times, regardless of how few it seemed they'd had, and those thoughts became her lifeline.

Hours passed, each one stretching endlessly. The sound of footsteps approaching and the squeaky hinge on a door snapped the girls back to reality.

A gruff voice bellowed, "Quiet down in there."

Megan could hear the clanging of keys and the sound of someone rattling chains. Her heart raced as she tried to muster the courage to act. For a fleeting moment, Megan imagined herself striking the man with her chains, but when the moment came, and he stood over her, his stale breath against her face, fear paralyzed her. Sensing he needed to put the new blood in her place, he slapped her roughly across the face.

"Don't even think about it, sweet cheeks."

Megan's head snapped to the side, and she felt a stinging pain where he struck her. Her muffled sob joined a few others.

The guard growled, "You girls better behave. Your new owners don't like damaged goods."

His footsteps retreated, and the door slammed, leaving the girls alone in the dark, damp basement.

Emma whispered, "Megan, are you okay?"

"I'm — so scared."

Sarah responded next, "We all are, sweetie. Just try to stay strong. We'll find a way out of this, I promise."

Megan wanted to believe Sarah, but it sounded impossible, yet she clung to Sarah's words like a life raft in the sea.