The Key

by Felicia Rogers

  Third was a romance. She set it aside because she didn’t think he would like it, although she had to give him points for even setting it out for her consideration. But the fourth and last one was the best. “This is it.”

  “Really?” he asked, cocking a brow.

  “Yep. This is definitely the one.” She wished she could explain her choice, but it would lead to too many questions. Bruce Wayne was secretive, protective of his woman, handsome, rich, and reminded her of Alasdair.

  Maybe Alasdair wasn’t all those things. In fact, he favored a cat more than a bat — a big cat, like a pale panther. And she wasn’t sure about his wealth. But he was secretive and protective. Part of her found him handsome, but not in the same way she viewed Chase. Chase was like Bruce Wayne, Alasdair like Batman. If only they were one and the same.

  Besides, she got the impression Chase had put that movie on the table hoping she’d choose it. Who was she to disappoint him?

  Chase inserted the disk and the movie rolled onto the screen. Maddie snuggled against his side, sharing the popcorn.

  “Why do you think your grandma owns this movie?” he asked between bites.

  “Hmm, maybe because Christian Bale is hot?”

  “You think so, huh?”

  “I didn’t say that, but now that you mention it…”

  He rammed his finger into her ribs and tickled her until she almost lost bladder control. Gasping for air, she called, “Uncle! Uncle!” To no avail; she fell to the floor and writhed, and still he tormented her.

  “Nope. I can’t stop until you take it back.”

  She opened her hands and shoved against his chest. “You’re right! What was I thinking? I don’t care for dark good looks.”

  Still he tickled her. “Not good enough. You’re still saying he’s good looking.”

  She enjoyed the attention so instead of pleading for mercy, she repaid in kind. She reached upward and dug her fingers into his side. Chase dropped to the floor, rolled, and begged for mercy. It felt great, and she chased him across the throw rug. Suddenly just before they rolled into the television screen where the movie played unseen, his laughter stopped, and no amount of tickling brought it back.

  She straightened and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re not ticklish, are you?”

  He shook his head. “Not so much, no.”

  Jerk. She punched him in the arm.

  “Ouch. What was that for?”

  “For making me believe I’d won!”

  Maddie placed her hand on the floor and pushed, but he grabbed her and drew her to his side. “Don’t you realize you’ve won much more than a tickling contest?”

  She hid her face behind a veil of hair, but he forced her to look at him. “Maddie, you’ve won my heart.”

  ****

  Maddie didn’t have to reciprocate, but after his admission he expected some kind of response. Couldn’t she find something to say? But the moment dragged, becoming increasingly brittle as he waited. No, she couldn’t, and it felt as if his heart stopped beating.

  She shoved off the floor and reset the movie back to the beginning before settling on the couch and pretending to watch it. He rose, too, intending to join her, but it suddenly felt like too much to handle, and instead he strolled outside to the porch and sat on the swing. He lost track of how long he sat there. The moon lowered toward the mountains and he yawned.

  A beam of light appeared in the doorway. “Chase?”

  “I’m over here.”

  Maddie shone the flashlight in the direction of his voice, but kept it low, so it didn’t blind him. She hesitated, then crossed the porch to the swing. Once settled beside him, she blurted out, “Don’t love me.”

  A deep snort left his throat. “Too late.”

  “Chase, you must understand—”

  “Oh, I understand. I understand it perfectly. You love someone else.”

  “No! That’s not it.”

  “You were awfully close to Dougal at the hospital.”

  “Chase!”

  “What am I supposed to think? I’ve practically thrown myself at you.” The intensity of his voice increased. Cool. Keep it cool. “You must think I’m an idiot.”

  She cringed. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye. She wrung her hands. Angrily she shouted, “You can’t love me! You can’t!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because everyone who loves me dies, okay? And if anything happened to you then I— I don’t think I could live with myself.”

  He glared at her. It seemed like the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “So your solution is to push me away?”

  Her chin firmed. “If it keeps you alive, then yes.”

  “It won’t work. Besides, it’s too late.”

  She shook her head hard.

  “Why fight it? You know as well as I do that our destinies are intertwined.”

  “No…” she groaned.

  “Yes.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. We’ll be together and nothing will stop us.”

  “But you don’t understand—”

  He swiped a hand between them, as if wiping away her doubts. “Then help me understand.”

  Her frustration mounted. “I can’t!”

  “You can share anything with me.”

  “No, I can’t. I— I made a promise.”

  And suddenly he froze inside. Was the secret about Alasdair? If she revealed what she knew, could he keep a straight face? Would he give his own secret away? Instead of testing himself, he said, “Okay.”

  She looked stunned by his reply. “‘Okay?’ I reveal that I have a secret and all you say is ‘okay’?”

  Well, he was stunned, too. “I can’t have you breaking promises. One day you’ll tell me.” Chase almost repeated what she had said to him earlier.

  “Yeah.” She still stared at him, her lips gently parted. “Sure.”

  Her lips… no, enough of that. “Are you tired?”

  She blinked, startled in a new way. “Yes.”

  “Why don’t I take you upstairs?”

  Pink invaded her cheeks. “I think I can make it on my own.”

  “I’m sure you can,” and he hoisted her into his arms, “but I want to take you.”

  The tension melted from her shoulders. She snuggled against his chest, the embrace reminding him of earlier. When he looked at her, he saw the same perfect girl he’d always seen.

  He ducked backward through the front door, carefully maneuvering her legs through, and took the stairs one slow step at a time. Then Chase stopped outside her door and lowered her to the floor, allowing her body to glide along his own. Every nerve ending screamed. Afraid to touch her more, he backed away and blew her a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Her eyes softened and she touched her lips. Perhaps Alasdair needed to pay Maddie a little visit. His alter ego seemed to have better luck.

  Chapter 29

  Sunlight streamed through the windows. Maddie rolled onto her side and groaned. Every muscle in her body ached from last evening’s long adventure. If she’d known getting into a canoe for a little jaunt downriver would have cost her, and Alasdair, and Doran, so much effort… well, next time she’d stay home. But at least she’d learned it was Gregory who wanted to kill her, although she didn’t know what to think about Doran, and besides, he stank… and she was going to be late.

  She climbed from bed and attempted to lift her arm to run her hand through her tangled hair, but the pain was too intense and she dropped it back to her side. With short, stilted steps she headed for the bathroom, but stopped short in the doorway.

  Chase stood before the mirror, his arm above his head as he removed a square white bandage from his side. A thin red line graced the length of his muscular torso.

  She blurted, “How did that happen?”

  Chase turned, his eyes widening. He looked like a kid caught dipping a hand in the cookie jar. “I— I, well, I— hurt myself yesterday.”

  �
�How?”

  He pursed his lips. “Working on the porch?”

  It sounded more like a question than a statement. Before she could ask further, he pulled his shirt over his head and tugged it down.

  “I guess you need the bathroom, right?” He spoke fast, as if afraid she’d interrupt. “Yeah, of course you do. You better hurry or we’ll be late for school. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  She gawked as he fled. She needed air after that encounter, but drawing in a deep breath caused pain to radiate along her upper chest and down her arms. Spots danced before her eyes and she leaned against the door facing to keep from hitting the floor. Too much exercise paddling the canoe. Too much fear when she’d fallen toward the river, when Doran carried her, when Gregory’d appeared. When she’d argued with Chase and tried to get him to leave. Just. Too. Much.

  The dizziness passed. She clenched her teeth, brushed out her tangled hair, showered, and dressed. A glance at the clock showed she’d taken too long. Grabbing her backpack, she ran for the stairs. Midway down her feet tangled and she pitched forward. She shrieked, imagining her bones cracking when she crashed into the hard floor looming ever closer. Waiting for the crash, she wrapped her arms over her head.

  A pair of hands snatched her around the waist and jerked her to a stop.

  Maddie’s first thought was that Alasdair had rescued her. But as she lifted her eyes, she realized she nestled against Chase’s chest, against his gray sweater.

  “Are you okay?”

  Maddie waited until her breathing calmed. “Yes.”

  He righted her and eyed her curiously. “Are you really okay?”

  Her ego was bruised, but she nodded. “We should go.”

  Both backpacks clutched in one hand, he headed for the truck and she trailed along behind, grabbing a granola bar for breakfast in passing. His biceps bulged against the sweater’s seams. He’d been built when they’d met, but now he appeared even larger, broader of shoulder, stronger. He’d caught her without staggering. When had he had time to bulk up?

  Questions compounded on one another. There were so many things she needed to ask, wanted to know. But how could she when she’d promised not to mention Alasdair? Not mentioning Alasdair probably meant she shouldn’t mention Doran, either, or even that fiend Gregory. Why did it seem like she had to hide everything from Chase?

  ****

  They drove to school in silence. He snuck a glance at Maddie, and caught her gazing out the window and absently playing with the door handle. He bit his lip and focused on driving.

  The wound on his side had healed considerably. Amazingly, more like, as if he’d been injured a week ago. Maddie’s touch when they’d tried to watch the movie, when they’d tickled each other, when they’d sat on the porch swing, their thighs pressing together — it seemed to have sped up the healing process.

  He shifted and pain dinged his side. His secret had almost been revealed. But what did it really matter? She already knew Alasdair existed, so what would be the harm in telling her he was Alasdair?

  They parked in the school lot, not too late. Maddie jumped from the vehicle and rushed for the door before he had the key switched off. He watched her closely as the engine died away. At the double doors she shot a glance over her shoulder, caught him staring, and offered a shy smile.

  Privately he worried as he followed her inside. Maddie’s preoccupation increased her clumsiness. Her trip down the stairs that morning replayed in his mind and he shuddered. What if he hadn’t been close by? What if there came a time when he couldn’t rescue her?

  Dark circles rimmed her eyes; bruises from yesterday’s adventure were highlighted by the school’s fluorescent lighting, stark green and black against her beautiful skin. In homeroom, her eyelids drooped and her elbow shifted. She jumped, steadying herself, and grimaced. Later, she failed to eat lunch, instead laying her head on the table and napping.

  And across the lunch room, Dougal stared.

  Chase pushed his tray away. What should he do? If he told her the truth, would it put her mind at ease or would it only make her more preoccupied? Would it heap more on her tired shoulders or let her relax?

  Lunch ended. When history class rolled round, Maddie seemed a bit more alert. Chase breathed a sigh of relief.

  The history teacher, Mr. Stanley, sat atop his desk and drummed his fingers on the sides. “Today we’re going to discuss names and their meanings. Let’s start with you, Felicity. Do you know the meaning of your name?”

  “Nope,” she said, smacking at a large wad of gum.

  Mr. Stanley drummed again, leaned forward, and opened his hand, palm up. Felicity spit out the glob and shot him a goofy grin. He deposited it in the trashcan and retrieved a cleansing wipe from his desk. Wiping his hands and ignoring the class’s verbal disgust, he said, “Your name comes from the English. It means happy or happiness.”

  “Cool.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course, cool.” He shifted target and pointed. “Now, Marley, your name is also from the English vernacular and it means pleasant wood.”

  Light laughter filled the room and Mr. Stanley cleared his throat. Everyone hushed.

  “Stephanie, your name is from the Greek.”

  Preening, Stephanie faced the class. “You hear that, guys? I’m Greek. I wear long togas and golden leaves on my head.”

  Comments were made under students’ breath — Chase privately agreed with them but refused to listen too closely — and Mr. Stanley shook his head in agitation. “Your name means…” he paused and grimaced, “…crown.”

  “I always knew I was a queen,” said Stephanie, primping her hair.

  Working his way around the room, Mr. Stanley revealed each student’s name, its meaning, and where it hailed from. When he reached the last row, Dougal leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles.

  “Dougal Lachlan. A rich Irish name. Dougal means black stranger and Lachlan means lord of the lochs.”

  Mr. Stanley arched a brow as if he expected a comeback. When none was given, he adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, straightened his bow tie, and moved on. “Well, then, I guess you youngsters don’t find that interesting. What about this one? Chase, your three names are English, French, and Irish. I guess you couldn’t have one origin.”

  He snickered, but the meaning was lost on Chase, and he lifted his eyebrows.

  Mr. Stanley straightened his face and cleared his throat. “Anyway, your first name is Alexander, which means defender of mankind. Chase means huntsman, and Donovan means dark chieftain. A dark hunting chieftain that defends mankind. You’re a paradox, aren’t you?”

  Stephanie and her crew snickered and Mr. Stanley finally relaxed; hey, someone listened. Emboldened, he clapped his hands and drummed again. “And last but not least, Maddie. Your name is also Irish in origin. Madelyn means high tower and Clevenger means keeper of the keys. I guess that would mean you are the key keeper for a high tower.” The class erupted in laughter.

  Someone whispered, “We knew she was the keeper for something, but we would never have guessed keys since she doesn’t even have a car!”

  Dougal straightened and stared at Maddie. Chase’s heart hammered. He bit his tongue to keep from jumping, grabbing her hand, and running from the room.

  Chapter 30

  The school day dragged and Chase couldn’t wait to leave. Dougal’s staring intensified by the hour and Chase wished he could cloak Maddie in a shield to protect her. The constant barrage of attention from such an untrustworthy source twisted his gut and he worried he might morph into a gryphon during school. Oh, would that start the week off right.

  Gym ended and he rushed Maddie to the truck. Awkward silence reigned while he drove her to his home. He couldn’t stop mulling over the history teacher’s lesson, the meanings of everyone’s names, and wondering if they held significance. He should discuss it with Maddie. What did she think about it? He needed to know if it had made her see things that she’d missed before — like Alasdair
.

  He gnawed on his lip, ready to burst as they traversed the sidewalk and approached the front door. Before they made it inside, Colton rushed out and grabbed her hand. “Maddie, I want to show you something.”

  “Okay,” she answered, flashing Chase a helpless look.

  He grimaced. His younger brothers adored Maddie. The attention she paid them when she visited only exacerbated the situation. Colton running off with her and keeping her to himself was neither new or surprising. But he needed to talk with her!

  The frustration was… well, frustrating.

  Chase trailed behind them into the kitchen and leaned against the door facing while Colton wowed Maddie with his fossil collection, spread out on the table in Mom’s way. The boy’s giddiness was infectious and Chase found himself grinning along with them. But he still needed to talk with her — so instead, he backed out of the kitchen. If he couldn’t talk to Maddie about what he’d learned, then maybe he could discuss it with his father.

  He knocked on the workshop door. “Dad, are you in there?”

  “Yes.”

  Chase opened the door and slid inside — and stopped short, blinking. The workshop had always been a well-kept and organized space. But now the floor was covered with old books, newspaper clippings, photo albums, and more. Where had it all come from?

  In the center of the only clear place remaining, Dad pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sat cross-legged on the floor and didn’t look comfortable at all. “How goes it?”

  “Is there a place to sit down in here?”

  “You could try the floor.”

  “I think I’ll stand.”

  “What’s up?”

  “No ‘How was your day?’ Just ‘What’s up?’”

  “I assumed there’s a reason you came to visit and continued to stay while I’m covered in this mess.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t deny you’re right.” He tiptoed between stacks, sending a pile of loose clippings slithering across the floor when he closed the door, then sighed and leaned back against an empty space of wall. “My history teacher gave an interesting lesson today.”