Stroke after stroke, she pushed herself further and further away from the shore. She thought about turning around and seeing how far away she was, but she decided against it. Her arms and hands sliced through the invigorating, enticing water like a surgeon. The rules of consistency and not tiring herself out that she learned from competing in high school and college came back to her as soon as she began this journey.
She, Brooke Logan, was free. Finally, she was free. Free from her father's lies about dying. Free from attempts on her life. Free from Thorne not believing she loved him. Free from Ridge choosing Taylor once again over her. Free from the guilt she felt at the disastrous childhood she gave her children that had them crawling into bed and marrying the likes of Amber Moore and Deacon Sharpe. Everyone she had ever loved had either hurt or betrayed her or she them.
The full moon shone on her blonde hair as she paused and dog paddled, taking in the smell of the water and the clean crisp night air. Tranquility and peacefulness surrounded her. Her life was a disaster, but right now, right here all was right with the world. She could forget her past. She wasn't Brooke Logan Forrester Forrester Chambers Forrester Forrester; out here, she was no one. No more important than the fish that swam beneath and around her or the plant life swaying at the bottom of the Mediterranean. She sighed. If she could stay out here forever and keep everyone at bay, life would be perfect. No one out here for her to hurt and no one to hurt her.
Who knew working that Saturday night twenty-six years ago as a favor to her mother could lead to such pain? She should have never let her mother guilt her into working, instead she should have stayed in with Simone, Dara, and Felicia and played cards and board games with them.
Laughing, she began swimming once again. Cards and board games. Had she ever truly been that innocent that care free? It seemed like a lifetime ago. Life had been weighing her down; it was now time to be free. Free from the hurt and pain, that's all she wanted. That's all she desired. Hopefully, after this swim, her mind and her head would be cleared.
Or maybe not, she thought, as tears blinded her. Her dad, her hero, the man she looked up to had taken money in exchange for lying to her. He allowed her to think that he, the one man who had always loved her, taken care of her, supported her, was dying. When those words had come out of her father's mouth her whole world had been rocked. He and her mother were her foundation. They were her constant. And to hear, to think, to even imagine that one of them would no longer be there. Then to find out it was all a lie.
A lie. Her world destroyed for five million measly dollars. She could have given that amount to Stephen Logan, Senior, without even blinking an eye, without even missing it. Hell, she had offered Amber twice that amount to get out of Ric's life, but the scheming hustler had her eye on the bigger prize, Forrester Creation. Her father had tried to explain how Massimo had forced him into this scheme, but she didn't want to hear it. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing on earth could have made her hurt her family the way her father had hurt her, her siblings, and her mother.
Although she wasn't quite sure why she was surprised by her father's behavior hadn't she learned over the years that men lie and hurt you? She had been taught that lesson repeatedly so why should her dad be exempt? She was sure one day Storm would join the ranks of lying, untrustworthy men. Hadn't even Ric lied to her about his relationship with Amber? She had so wanted and prayed that her son wouldn't be like the other men but like everything else in her life no one listened.
Oh my gosh, did she hear herself? She was having a pity party. She- - ugh! No, not now. Ouch! The pain kept coming and coming. Her right leg was massively cramping. What could she do? What should she do? The pain was intense. She tried to remember the techniques she had been taught, but the pain overruled everything. Besides she had been a short distance swimmer not a long one. Maybe this was her answer to the end of the pain and suffering. Maybe- -
"Ahhhhhh!" she screamed into the night air. What had just touched her shoulder? She didn't know and she wasn't going to be the dumb chick in the horror film that stayed around to find out only to die for her efforts. Swinging and punching, she fought with all her might with all the tricks Storm and her dad had ever taught her and all the dirty ones that Dara and Felicia had taught her. She fought for her life and the next thing she knew was blackness.
Waking up slowly, Brooke was slightly disoriented. Where was she? What had happened to her? She sat up and found herself in her hotel room, in her bed, with her pajamas on, and a towel wrapped around her hair. Alarmed, she wondered how did she get here? The last thing she remembered was something touching her, fighting like hell, then nothing. Feeling the panic rising by the minute, she jumped out of bed and searched the room for any sort of clues.
Who saved her? Who found her? Who brought her back to her room? Who knew where she was staying? She had fled Paris and took the train to a little town outside of Cannes without informing anyone as to where she was going. She had taken a twenty minute cab ride to even get to the beach last night. Did Massimo send someone else after her? Did Stephanie? No, no. It couldn't have been them. Their people would have let her drown. Was someone following her? Was- -
Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and tried to think logically. Maybe her rescuer had been a good Samaritan who wanted to remain anonymous. She had left her room key with the name of the hotel on it next to her clothes on the beach. She sighed. She was overreacting. A helpful and kind rescuer or two saved her and brought her back to her room. Nothing more, nothing less.
She had been crazy for swimming with so much on her mind, by herself, in a foreign country so late at night. It was time to go home; she had wasted enough of her time in France. Her children and her company needed her and she needed them. As she arranged for the Forrester jet to meet her at the nearest airport, she firmly pushed the lingering doubts about her rescuer theory to the back of her mind.