Wild Fire

by P. M. Briede

  His grip remained firm but everything else about him crumbled. “Charlotte?” he whispered. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. There was nothing left to say. Arguing would just keep him here longer. Saying nothing would tell him it was over. It took longer than I anticipated but Olivier finally released me and staggered out of my bedroom a broken man.

  Chapter 6

  It was almost midnight when Wesley called. The ringing of the phone hadn’t woken me up. I’d spent the time since Olivier left crying uncontrollably and couldn’t sleep. I was tempted to not answer it. The fact that I believed Wesley wasn’t cheating on me with Abigail made me pick up the phone. Paige had to have been mistaken.

  I answered the call, if not the Skype request, because I didn’t want him to see me in tears. It didn’t matter though. My croaky, stuttered “Hello” was evidence enough of the state I was in. “Charlotte!” Wesley cried out in answer. “I’ll catch the first flight in the morning, love. Don’t cry!”

  It took a while for me to answer, but he was so patient and understanding. He was my Wesley. “No. I’m fine. I just…” I trailed off.

  “You just what?” he asked.

  “I’m just sad, Wesley.” I answered weakly. I’m also a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to ask about Paige’s accusations concerning Abigail the day after I’d basically asked him on my own. In a lot of ways, if he was cheating on me, I honestly didn’t want to know. I love him. Infidelity, while appalling, wouldn’t change that. I’d stop seeing him, of course. But in truth, it would also end our lifelong friendship. I didn’t want to suffer through that shame and pain.

  He made multiple attempts to get me to confess, but I couldn’t. I was exhausted and really just wanted to get off the phone. The only reason I didn’t was that I could hear a disappointment in his voice that didn’t stem from my absence at his side. “Distract me, darling,” I begged. “What happened tonight?”

  Wesley sighed. “I swear, love, this isn’t what I signed up for. We’re becoming a damned three-ringed circus.” His voice was tight and riddled with furious emotions. “I miss you so damn much.”

  I didn’t need to see him to know he was scrubbing at his face with his eyes closed in frustration. It was almost as if he was in the room with me, I knew him so well. “I miss you too,” I whispered. “Another lobby group?”

  “Yes!” he expelled.

  “Which group was it?” I questioned a little more steadily. Something about talking with him about this gave me a sense of normalcy, which I desperately needed.

  “It was a group that wants government to insist upon term limits for CEOs of publically traded companies so that they can’t get too greedy,” Wesley spat. “We can’t even get term limits set on Congress and they think we’d be able to do so with a free market company! And of course all the major media outlets were right there filming their rally in the lobby of the hotel we held the fundraiser at!” He paused to catch his breath. I knew not to say anything right now. He just needed someone to listen. “Tristan and I were able to get them to agree to leave quietly with the promise of face time with Alexander. The downside is that Alexander has to admit to the media outlets he’s met with them and thought about what they have to say. It shouldn’t be a campaign killer but it’ll set us back and accomplish what Banks wanted, media attention at any cost.”

  Banks strikes again! But now wasn’t the time to press Wesley on her. “Why is admitting that Alexander heard them out a bad thing?” I asked in a compassionate tone.

  Wesley growled before answering. “Admitting to hearing the group is practically as bad as announcing we agree with them. When word gets out that we met with them, the outlets are going to run their views as ours before his statement that we don’t agree.” His voice was still tight but the fury was quickly dissipating. Talking to me was helping him at least come to terms with what would be facing him tomorrow.

  “Why not get out ahead of it tonight?” I offered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have your press secretary make a statement on behalf of Alexander tonight,” I clarified. “Announce he’s willing to hear all ideas from all groups, even those he doesn’t agree with. True bi-partisanship only works when everyone has the opportunity to be heard. It doesn’t mean he agrees or will even change how he thinks, but a great leader is an educated one and to be educated means to learn about all views, not just the ones you believe in or came up with.”

  “Charlotte, I’ll call you right back!” I heard a dial tone before I could even think of a response. Shoving away my irritation at being hung up on, I processed the excitement in Wesley’s voice when he’d said he’d call me back. Something had happened which had instantly lifted his spirits. It was only a few minutes before my phone rang again. “I love you, Charlotte! Your idea is sheer brilliance!” This was a different Wesley from the despondent man I’d just been talking to.

  “What idea?” I queried, perplexed.

  “The press release! Alexander loved it. Banks wasn’t thrilled about having to make the statement but I don’t give a damn! If you want, turn on the twenty-four hour media outlets. Your words will be spilling from her lips within the hour.”

  While I was stunned that Wesley had acted on my suggestion, I had the presence of mind to nonchalantly confirm that Banks was the press secretary. “You called Alexander and the press secretary? At this hour?”

  “Yes,” he answered without pause or fury. FINALLY! Something! My suspicions had been right. Banks was the press secretary. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out what she looks like now. She’ll be all over the media coverage. Wesley yawned and I let him go, too anxious to see what my troublesome exile looked like.

  I watched the coverage. My words flowed through the speaker of my television. The news anchor confirmed they were said by the “press secretary for the Wyatt Presidential campaign.” Trouble was, the woman remained a ghost. Her voice was digitalized and grainy. Not the smooth, practiced human tones of a well-versed political mouthpiece. Her image was pixilated, so there were no details to memorize. How is that possible?! I’d have to ask Olivi…

  Except I’m not talking to Olivier. I shouldn’t trust him. The hole in my heart at learning the role Olivier had played in Giles’ murder, immediately opened back into a deep chasm. What was I going to do about him?

  The next morning, I was sitting on my patio when Olivier came flying over the fence. Shocked, I didn’t even get the chance to lambaste him for the intrusion before he savagely tore into me. “What the hell happened in Dallas, Charlotte?! Did you not understand when I said you couldn’t interfere in the campaign, that you couldn’t change Breaux’s mind?! I thought you were desperate to protect him! Instead, I’m currently working overtime trying to ensure that he and I aren’t both sent to the proverbial gallows!” I’d never seen or heard him so angry. When Wesley was upset, he paced like a caged animal. Olivier on the other hand, well, his eyes gripped mine forcefully, more so than I could imagine his hands ever would. I actually jumped out of my chair when he started and put it between us to provide some kind of obstacle if he decided to come after me. Then there were the words he was saying and their implication. Wesley in imminent danger made me forget that I shouldn’t trust Olivier.

  “I’m assuming you’re asking about the press release concerning the lobby groups,” I said, my voice shaking. All I got was a curt nod as Olivier’s arms folded across his broad chest with his hands balled into fists. “I didn’t talk Wesley out of anything. He’s been complaining about these groups for weeks and how they’re going to set the campaign back because they’d become a side show to the big league players. I thought the ultimate goal was the campaign’s success.”

  With the intensity of a long dormant volcano, Olivier blew. “THE ULTIMATE GOAL WAS THAT THEY INCITE CONTROVERSY AND PUBLIC OUTRAGE! NO ONE REALLY NEEDS THEM TO WIN! YOU GAVE THEM ALL THE BUZZ WORDS TO TURN WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST STEP TO A DIVIDED NATION INTO A LEAP TO PLAY WITH THE LEADING CANDIDA
TES! THEY’RE MEETING WITH SOME OF THE PARTIES KEY STRATEGIC ANALYSTS TO SEE HOW THEY CAN FURTHER RIDE THE MOMENTUM YOU GAVE THEM! I THOUGHT YOU WERE TRYING TO KEEP HIM SAFE!”

  Before I could respond, a voice gripped me from behind and I spun around. “You have no right to talk to her that way!” Wesley calmly, but menacingly, called from the door of our home. “Get out of my backyard, Cheval!”

  I wasn’t to only one shocked by Wesley’s sudden appearance. What was he doing here?! But I didn’t care. I ran into Wesley’s arms as Olivier replied to his charge with one of his own. “I have no right to talk to her?” Olivier’s volume was lower now but no less cutting with his accusations. “I’m not the one pursuing the boss’ daughter behind her back!”

  Wesley made to charge at Olivier until I stopped him with my palms on his chest. Wesley was right, Olivier had no rights here. I calmly turned around, no longer afraid of Olivier, no longer worried about his fears. “Get out, Olivier,” I coolly ordered. Olivier’s eyes grew wide. The only answer I gave was to point in the direction of the gate.

  Wesley inhaled sharply in my ear and Olivier’s body crumbled in front of me. There was a twinge in my heart at the sight of his slumped shoulders as he left but he was a liar.

  When Olivier was gone, Wesley spun me around and kissed me. My arms curled around his neck as his folded around my body and crushed me to him. When he freed my mouth, I leaned my forehead against his and gasped for air. Paige had been wrong. Wesley was still mine. I only had to be in his arms, see his face, kiss his lips to know. Once my lungs were filled I asked the only questions I cared for an answer too. “What are you doing here, darling, and how long will you stay?”

  “Just a couple of days, love,” he tenderly whispered while scattering kisses along my face and neck. “Alexander was so pleased with your statement, he sent me home for a few days with you before everything gets crazy.” Alexander is now one of my absolute favorite people in the entire world! Wesley’s arms untangled from around me until his hand were tugging on my elbows. “Come to bed, Charlotte,” he sexily slurred. I let him drag me back upstairs and sufficiently distract me until the early afternoon.

  Wesley and I spent most of the days together, but home or not Wesley was the campaign manager and chief of staff for Alexander. So there were still calls he had to take, meeting to virtually attend, and reports to review. None of that really bothered me, though. I was used to it from my marriage to Giles when he’d been mayor in Idaho. It was the other changes that bothered me. Wesley was using my name more than love. Most people probably wouldn’t notice, but I’d grown very accustomed to hearing him caress the word. He also grew more and more temperamental, and it was always worse after calls with Banks. But the biggest red flag was that in all the time he’d been home he hadn’t once mentioned me meeting him on the campaign trail.

  Then there were the dreams. I fell asleep each night wrapped in Wesley’s arms, confident in his love, only to be treated to a silent film of him having sex with Abigail. Why was I so focused on her?! I’d wake up in the morning, him still by my side, nauseous and drive heaving because my mind was trying to escape from my skull through my eyes. I told myself they were stress dreams. But there was something so visceral about them.

  After the second night of sexmares, I told Wesley about them from the bathroom door when I finished brushing my teeth. He looked as me askance from where he was leaning against the headboard. “You too?”

  “What do you mean, me too?” I asked, shocked. He didn’t seem surprised at all by my detailed description of my dreams.

  He pressed him palms into his eye sockets and took a deep breath. When he pulled them away, that was when I noticed he hadn’t been sleeping either. There were deep bags under his eyes and they were tired and dull. His posture spoke of resignation, but about what? “I’ve been having the same dreams of late.” He then went on to describe my dreams to me since the night he’d arrived in Houston, except they were his dreams.

  I heard the sharp intake of breath before I realized I’d taken it. Most woman would be furious at having their lover admit to dreaming of sex with another woman. Especially one as gorgeous as Abigail. However, I was more focused on the fact that we’d had the same dreams, and not just last night.

  When I didn’t say anything, because my mind was searching for an explanation, voice brought my eyes to his. “You’re not mad, Charlotte?” he asked as he got out of the bed and approached me. “I half expected you to yell at me. I know how you feel about her.”

  “You aren’t doing it on purpose, are you?” I confirmed.

  His body jerked as if I’d struck him. “Absolutely not!” he exclaimed, the words echoing through our bedroom. “If I was choosing, you know what woman I’d be dreaming of,” he admitted while pulling me back to the bed and on top of him.

  After Wesley proved to me that he had no interest in any other woman he took a meeting with an aide who was working at the local office for Alexander’s campaign. I took the opportunity to get some fresh air and went for a jog. While I ran, my mind kept coming back to the dreams. Why were Wesley and I dreaming of him having sex with Abigail? How was it that his dreams were also filled with the green flames of ignes iudicii? And if they were the ignes iudicii, why wasn’t he impacted with the headaches and searing flesh? When I’d get overwhelmed with those questions my other problems barreled to the forefront. How to identify Banks? If I couldn’t see the damn woman, how was I supposed to protect Wesley from her? Then there was a thought I’d never had before. If this female exile is capable of keeping her identity hidden from the world, what else could she do?

  There was only one person who could possibly help me answer these questions. The same person I was currently not on speaking terms with. Yet, my feet brought me to his house then froze in front of it as if they had a mind of their own. Was there a way I could get answers from Olivier; answers I could trust; without giving him full access to my life again?

  When my skin tingled with that familiar, fiery burning sensation I noticed that the front door to Olivier’s home was ajar. I ran across his yard and up his steps terrified that Olivier was being threatened with the fire which would erase his existence. I’d just crossed his threshold when Olivier’s voice from his living room brought me up short.

  “Look at me and tell me about Banks!” Olivier commanded in an aggravated whisper.

  “I c-c-c-can’t,” a frightened voice responded. I recognized it as belonging to the aide Wesley had been meeting with in our home when I left for my run. The fear in the aide’s voice made me rush towards them. There was Olivier towering over the poor aide who was shaking in terror with his eyes squeezed shut. The aide was already pressed flat against the wall however I’m sure if he could have found a way to melt into it he would have. And while all of that was upsetting enough it was the way the aide’s skin glowed green that made me gasp.

  Olivier’s head whipped around at the sound. His eyes were white, having been consumed by his internal fire due to his heightened emotions. Olivier was going to burn him! I raced over to them and shoved Olivier away from his captive. “Get him some water!” I spat at Olivier. “NOW!” I roared when he didn’t move.

  I turned back to the aide and planned to reassure him that he’d be alright. Unfortunately, he reached out and shoved me away, his hand coming into contact with the bare skin of my upper arm. The moment he touched me there was a sizzling sound and a burn equivalent to touching a hot stove. “Yeouch!” I exclaimed while jumping away from him.

  Olivier ran back to me and grabbed my wrist while spearing the aide with a look to keep him from running. “Give him the water and let him go, Olivier,” I sighed partly from exhaustion and partly because my arm was smoking from where the aide had touched me.

  The aide took another step to the door. “Freeze,” Olivier ordered, ignoring my wishes. Olivier’s eyes remained glued on the aide but his hands massaged my injury. Soon the smoking stopped and my arm looked normal instead of the red, blis
tered skin I’d expect from a burn.

  I took the water from Olivier and handed it to the aide. His skin was no longer glowing green but it was the red of a sunburn. “I won’t let you burn him, Olivier.” The words came out steadier than I felt.

  They were also a blow to Olivier and he took a step back. “I’m not going to burn him!” Olivier exclaimed.

  Really! After everything I knew, everything he’d told me, why was he trying to lie to me, again? “I’m not an idiot!” I challenged. “I can see what you’re doing!”

  Olivier furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes. “What is it that you see, Charlotte?”

  “Besides you pinning him to the wall,” I accused in an exasperated tone. “I see his skin! I can see the results now!”

  Olivier’s eyes cut to the aide. They looked confused. “What about his skin?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously, Charlotte! He looks fine to me!” Frustration and concern warred in Olivier’s features. “What do you see?!”

  I looked back at the aide and he did look normal now. That wasn’t surprising since having had glowing, green skin I knew it wasn’t a permanent condition. What was surprising, was the honesty Olivier wore at having no idea what I was talking about. “His skin was green and glowing,” I explained. “I’m assuming like how mine was when I burned Paige.”

  “So Paige was telling the truth,” Olivier mumbled to himself.