The Mystery Unmasked: Enigma, #3

by Shandi Boyes

  Hugo swallows harshly as moisture fills his eyes. “This was Jorgie’s first car.” Jorgie was his sister, Marjorie’s nickname. “She nagged me relentlessly to help her restore her to its former glory, but I was always too busy to get it done. It sat in the back shed at our parents’ house for years after her death.” A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “I mentioned it in passing one day to Isaac. It turned up fully restored on my doorstep a month later.”

  Tears prick in my eyes. Isaac pretends he’s a ruthless enigma who doesn’t have a heart, but the man behind the mask is far from the man his reputation denotes.

  After wiping under my eyes to ensure no tears have fallen, I angle my torso to face Hugo. “Your turn.”

  His index finger taps the steering wheel as his lips purse. After a short stretch of silence, he asks, “What are you going to do if the charges get dropped tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

  I haven’t considered what my next move will be if the murder charges are dropped. I’ve been too occupied wading through the mess between Isaac and me to consider anything not associated with him.

  “I might go back to Tiburon.” I have to strangle my words out since my mouth refuses to relinquish them.

  “Running away from your problems won’t fix them, Izzy.”

  “I know that, but some things are unfixable.”

  “No, they aren’t,” Hugo interrupts, shaking his head. “Everything is fixable. Take this car, for example. It sat rusted and undriven for over five years, and she’s fixed. With a bit of time and effort, anything can be fixed.”

  I remain quiet, unable to form a reply. I’ve had relationships before, but nothing consumed me the way my relationship with Isaac did. The feelings I have for him are at times overwhelming, and if I’m totally honest, scary. I didn’t know anything like this existed. Without him in my life, I truly feel lost. Dead. Completely heartless.

  But do you know what the scariest part is? Knowing the man who consumes your every waking moment is the same man who could shred your heart into a million pieces. It’s the doubt hovering over Isaac’s betrayal I’m finding the hardest to work through. He doesn’t know what happened that night with Clara, so how am I to understand it?

  It only leaves me two choices. I either live without ever knowing what happened or live without Isaac in my life. With how much pain stabbed in my heart during my last confession, I doubt that is the solution to my prediction. Just the thought of him not being in my life hurts more than I could ever express. I genuinely feel like I can’t breathe without him.

  The remainder of our drive passes in a blur, our game of twenty questions over in three. As I pace toward Dr. Avery’s office, I shut down my brain, praying daftness will mask the turmoil in my heart. Since I’m not paying attention to where I’m walking, I trip over the concealed lip at the entrance and tumble to the ground, landing hard on my hands and knees.

  Pain radiates through my wrist when it jars against the tiled floor, but I scamper to my feet, mortified with embarrassment. The zing radiating down my wrist shifts to a jolt of pleasure when I’m assisted off the floor.

  When a mouthwatering scent engulfs the air surrounding me, I snap my eyes shut and inhale deeply, relishing the delicious smell. When my eyes flutter back open, my breath snags halfway to my lungs. The most riveting gray eyes I’ve ever seen are staring intently at me, studying my face.

  “Are you okay?” Isaac questions, his voice raspy.

  I bite my bottom lip, concealing the smile attempting to tug it high before nodding. Those were the very first words he spoke to me after we head-butted at the airport. I was smitten with him from that very moment.

  Sensing a shift in my composure, Isaac angles his head to the side and arches his brow. The thick cloud that’s been hanging over my head the past two weeks weakens when he questions, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  When he wiggles two fingers in the air, the broadest grin stretches across my face. “Two.”

  His lips twitch like he’s preparing to speak, but before he can, Dr. Avery calls my name. She’s at the end of the hall, watching my exchange with Isaac with the same amused twinkle in her eyes Hugo has.

  “I better go?” I don’t know why my statement comes out sounding like a question.

  After smiling to thank Isaac for his assistance, I skirt past him. Excitement melds through me when his index finger briefly skims my arm on my way by, igniting every nerve in my body with the most meager touch.

  Just before I walk into Dr. Avery’s office, I turn around for the quickest second, briefly catching a heart-stuttering smirk on a deliriously handsome face.

  Chapter 33

  Isabelle

  I throw a pair of Nike running shoes at Hugo. “Come on. You shouldn’t have pinky-promised if you didn’t plan to follow through on your pledge.”

  Air whistles between his teeth, winded from the shoes hitting him in the stomach. He’s sprawled on one of the sofas in Regan’s living room, eating junk food as he has since we arrived back from my appointment with Dr. Avery over three hours ago.

  Today was my fifth session with Dr. Avery, but it was the first time our talk focused on my relationship with Isaac than my nightmares. I don’t know if that has more to do with my nightmares dampening as the weeks move on, or because she witnessed my interaction with Isaac and couldn’t help but pry. I’d say it was a combination of both.

  When Hugo commences begrudgingly putting on his shoes, he mumbles, “I thought I was a guaranteed winner.”

  Last night, Hugo blatantly stated Isaac would arrive at the club within twenty minutes of me hitting the dance floor to dance with other men. He said, “There’s no chance in hell Isaac will let another man near you, much less touch you.”

  We bet on it. If I lost, I’d make Hugo breakfast every morning for a month. He requested the works—bacon, eggs, French toast, pancakes, and freshly squeezed orange juice, unaware I can’t cook to save my life. If Hugo lost, he agreed to come running with me every day for a month. He hasn’t stopped grumbling from the last time we went for a run, so it was the perfect punishment for him being so poorly wrong while also forcing me to start living again.

  Hugo peeks up at me as he finishes tying his laces. “Can we at least jog past Harlow’s on the way back so I can replenish the calories I’m losing?”

  Grinning, I nod. “It’s all about the right balance.”

  When I race into the kitchen to throw my chewing gum into the bin, my brows stitch. There’s another empty canister of frosting at the bottom of the receptacle. I swear Regan is home, although I haven’t seen her since I walked in the door, so she could have left.

  Upon noticing my curious glance, Hugo’s lips twist. “What?”

  When he throws open the door, I jog to catch up to him. “Do you like frosting?”

  Time slows to a snail’s pace when he answers my question with a brazen wink. His leisured pace to the elevator picks up, but it has nothing on the wide drop of my jaw. “I think we need to play that game of twenty questions again.”

  My playful mood is squashed when I spot Clara mingling near the elevator banks. As always, she’s impeccably dressed in black knee-high boots and a Burberry full-length trench coat. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and her makeup is done in a seductive, alluring style. She looks like a sexy kitten about to go on the prowl.

  When she spots my gawk, she smirks at me. It isn’t a friendly smile. It’s a conniving, vindictive grin that showcases her as the real bitch she is.

  “We’ll wait for the next one,” Hugo tells Clara when the elevator arrives at our floor.

  Snubbing my twisted heart, I step into the elevator car. I’m sick of playing Clara’s game. Harlow is right. It’s time for me to get as good as I am getting. If Clara is happy to leave our exchange without any words passing between us, I’ll follow suit. But if she doesn’t, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.

  We don’t even make it
three floors before Clara has my inner bitch awakening and ready to pounce. “I heard the gala you attended was an enormous success for all involved.” She doesn’t attempt to conceal her bitchy tone. “It’s always endearing when people unite to help the needy.”

  “That’s enough, Clara.” Hugo’s snapped tone is a clear warning that I’m not the only one over Clara’s antics.

  “It’s okay, Hugo,” I interject, stepping up to the plate. “What she said is true. It is wonderful when people come together to assist those less fortunate.”

  Clara’s eyes glide down my body before her chin lifts high, apparently feeling superior. I can’t believe I ever stupidly thought she’d be the perfect partner for Isaac. He needs someone who will keep him grounded when everyone is determined to make him float away. He needs someone who will fight beside him when times get tough, not someone who cowers away during the hard times. Clara has lived her life with a silver spoon in her mouth. She doesn’t understand the struggles regular people go through, the ups and downs that make us better people, so she isn’t the right woman for Isaac. I am.

  “I feel sorry for you, Clara.”

  She balks and takes a step back. “Why would you feel sorry for me? I have a perfect life. I have a wonderful family and friends, and more money than I could ever need—”

  “And no one to share it with.”

  She chuckles a menacing laugh. “Says the lady who can’t name one family member. Who do you put down as your emergency contact? Your cat? The homeless man sleeping on the corner?” She shifts her glare to Hugo. “Or maybe a man who only associates with you because he’s paid to do it?”

  The air is forcefully evicted from my body. Even for someone who has no morals, that was a blow below the belt.

  “I may not have any family members, but at least I don’t have to force the man I love to interact with me.”

  “Unless you failed to get the memo, sweetheart…” She spits out a term of endearment as if it is vomit. “… you can’t force Isaac to do anything against his wishes. He was with me because he wanted to be with me.”

  “Bullshit!” I retort loudly. “You caught him during a moment of weakness, and you exploited it to your advantage, because, in all honesty, you knew that would be your one and only chance of ever being with him.” I take a step closer to her, fighting with all my might to keep our altercation verbal. “I hope it was worth it, Clara, as he’ll never look at you in the same manner now. He’ll always see you as the woman who once again forced his hand by strong-arming him into doing something he never wanted to do.”

  For the first time, Clara’s cool, calm composure cracks, but it doesn’t stop me from unleashing the tirade I’ve wanted to relinquish the past two weeks. “So, yes, I feel sorry for you, Clara. I’m sorry you feel so unworthy, you can’t find a man who loves you as much as you believe you love Isaac. I’m sorry you aren’t strong enough to realize you’re waging a war you’ll never win. And I’m sorry you don’t understand that he will never look at you the way he looks at me.”

  Tears well in her eyes, but I don’t back down. “I can’t say I don’t understand your fascination. Isaac is captivating, so if you’re happy to settle for half a man, keep chugging along, try every underhanded tactic you can find, then maybe, one day, he might look at you as more than a friend, but remember, you’ll only ever get half a man, never the full one you deserve.”

  With that, I dash out of the elevator as quickly as my shaking legs can take me. The doorman taps the brim of his hat in greeting when he sees me coming before opening the door. My nostrils sting from the cold air forcefully pumping through them when I dart through them. I increase my pace to a brisk jog before weaving between the heavy foot traffic clogging the sidewalks in Ravenshoe.

  Hugo catches up with me halfway down the street. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and squeezes the bejeebus out of me. “Yes, Izzy, yes!” Excitement that I finally stood up for myself is seen all over his face.

  His squeeze is so tight, it forces the first tear to vacate my tear-filled eyes. I quickly brush it away before breaking into a sprint. By the time I make it up the grueling St Thomas Street hill, I’m utterly exhausted. Not just physically. Emotionally as well. Mercifully, the sweat sliding from my sweat-drenched hair should conceal the tears sitting high on my cheeks.

  When I hunch over to suck in some much-needed breaths, Hugo rests his arms on top of his head. “Fuck, Izzy. If we run like that every day for a month, I’m going to die.”

  I chuckle at the actuality in his tone. After many big breaths, I straighten my spine before cranking my neck to Hugo. My body is aching, but it also appreciates the adrenaline pumping through my veins. For the first time in weeks, I feel alive.

  When Hugo’s eyes collide with mine, his mouth forms into an ‘O.’ Obviously, my sweat isn’t concealing my tears as initially hoped. He stares at me, seemingly wanting to speak but unable to get his mouth to release his words.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” I can’t even decipher a reason for my tears, so what chance would Hugo have?

  Hugo follows me down the hill. “Forgive him, Izzy. Then you can move past this.”

  “It isn’t that easy, Hugo.” Even though I wish it were.

  He grabs my forearm, stopping my sluggish steps. “Yes, it is. You already doubt that he slept with Clara, but instead of trusting your intuition, you’re basing your conclusion on the words of a vindictive bitch who’s been trying to sink her claws into him for years.”

  “Even if nothing happened that night, he should have never put himself in that position to begin with. He should have known she’d exploit him.”

  “He’s known her family for years, Izzy. Her brother is his best friend. If he has to double-guess everyone who comes into his life, he’ll live one very lonely life.” Hugo moves closer to me as his remorse-filled eyes shoot between mine. “He was living a very lonely life until you arrived.”

  My heart squeezes. I love Isaac. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone, but I don’t know how to move past this.

  “Forgive him,” Hugo pleads like he can hear my silent thoughts.

  “I can’t.”

  He looks at me like I’m an imbecile. “Why? Why can’t you?”

  “Because then I’ll be no better than her.” I thrust my hand to the stream of cars gliding past us.

  Hugo peers down at me in confusion. “Who?”

  My nose tingles when moisture rushes into my eyes.

  “Who?” Hugo asks again, more forceful this time.

  “Clara!”

  “What?” His tone gets an edge of anger to it. “How can you compare yourself to Clara? You’re nothing like her—”

  “Yes, I am! I’m exactly like her,” I interrupt. “Even if I can get past wondering if he slept with her, I’m still settling for half a man. I’ll only ever get half a man, never a full one. He will never look at me as he did Ophelia. He will never love me as he loved her. She left him broken. She left him as half a man, but I want all of him, Hugo! I want him solely for me. I don’t want a broken man!”

  Hugo stiffens, but he doesn’t refute my statement as he knows what I’m saying is true. Isaac’s heart will never fully belong to me as a piece of it will always belong to Ophelia. It’s callous of me to feel this way, and I understand that Isaac can’t help what happened to her, but the insecurity that he will never love me as he did Ophelia has been gnawing away at my insides since the day I stumbled across my uncle’s report on them in Col Petretti’s file. I thought if I loved him enough for the both of us, it would squash my uncertainties. Only now, after my confrontation with Clara, do I realize that everything I said about settling for half a man was me projecting my anxieties and self-doubt out loud.

  Angrily, I shake my head before storming down the sidewalk. I’m not angry at Hugo or even at Isaac. I’m fuming at myself for being a selfish, heartless cow.

  I don’t need to turn around to know Hugo is following me. The hea
vy stomps of his feet are all the indication I need, much less his furious growl. “You don’t know what would have happened between Isaac and Ophelia if Ophelia didn’t die,” he stumbles out. “Maybe they would have split up.”

  I pivot on my heels to face him. “You don’t know that.”

  “No, I don’t, but neither do you, Izzy. That’s why it’s called blind faith. No one knows what might have happened between them. Just like there’s no guarantee for you and Isaac. It could fizzle in months, or it could last a lifetime, but you won’t have anything if you don’t stop running and start fucking fighting!”

  “Fighting! That’s all I ever do, Hugo,” I retaliate. “It’s one shit storm after another.”

  “That’s what you do for someone you love!”

  I angrily snarl. “No, you don’t. You just run and hide, don’t you, Hugo? You know all about hiding from the people you love.”

  The instant the words escape my lips, I want to force them back in. I don’t know anything about Hugo’s personal life, so who am I to judge him and his decisions?

  Hugo’s jaw muscle tenses. “Yeah, that’s what I did, Izzy. I went and hid like a coward. But I didn’t do that because I didn’t love my family. I did it because I love them more than you’ll ever realize. Just like Isaac loves you more than you’ll ever realize.” His voice cracks with emotion, making the constrictive hold on my heart dangerous. “People make mistakes. Even the strongest men you know make mistakes, but that means they’re human, and they have a heart. They’re not fucking robots programmed to perform and act on cue!”

  He steps closer to me, the pain in his eyes undeniable. “I’m going to say to you what I said to Isaac mere weeks ago. If you wait too long, you’ll lose him, then you’ll regret every day of your life that you didn’t fight harder when you had the chance.”

  Stealing my chance to reply, he briskly strides down the street. Because his steps are so furious, he soon gains a decent amount of distance between us. As I watch his quickly retreating frame, everything he said runs through my brain on repeat.