“What?” She squeaked, surprise written all over her face. “No! I’m not going anywhere without you, you hear?”
“Listen to me!” Marcus almost shouted, flashing an intense glare at her. “You can’t stay in one place for long. They could find you. And I…”
Helen anxiously awaited the end of his sentence, but he couldn’t speak. He bit his lower lip, dropping his gaze down to the floor, as she leaned in towards him.
“What, Marcus?” She whispered. “You what?”
“I’m going to war, baby.” He breathed, as his gaze shot up to meet hers. “There’s a good chance I might not make it out of there alive.”
His words and the tears that had pooled in his eyes made her heart sink. The fear came back larger than before; Helen could no longer resist it. In a split second, it haunted her mind, as she realized that this could well be the last time they saw each other.
“Don’t tell me I won’t see you again, my dark angel.” She spoke in a terrified whisper. “Please, don’t.”
“Dark angel…” Marcus croaked, with a bitter smile on his face.
“Yeah,” Helen affirmed, as a tear toppled over the edge of her eye. “My dark angel lives in the shadows. He protects me. He kept my family whole. I can’t live without him.”
Upon finishing her confession, she tilted her head up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Their lips locked in a long, tender kiss, as he stroked her face. Unable to hold back her tears, Helen ran her hands up the sides of his neck, as he pulled her close. Losing herself in the moment, she ran her fingers through his beard, her hands shaking, as he wrapped his arms around her back. Helen moved her lips to his cheek and kissed him briefly, before attempting to put her head on his shoulder. But, Marcus didn’t allow her to do so. In a swift move, he removed his arms from her back and cupped her face in both of his hands.
“This isn’t goodbye.” He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, as a tear streamed down his cheek. “I’ve found you once. I’ll find you again.”
“Come back to me.” She said, her voice broken, as he ran his thumbs across her cheekbones. He gave her a slow nod, closing his eyes, as he eased out of her hold. Helen’s heart pounded in her chest, as she watched him turn around. As much as his leaving hurt her though, she would not take her eyes off of him. She kept her gaze settled on him, as his lazy footsteps led him away from the motel…
Godspeed, baby. Be careful out there. Find me again, like you said. God… I miss you already.
26
Predictably, Helen could not sleep that night. She kept staring up at the ceiling, worried about Marcus, as the incident from the diner replayed in her mind, over and over again. In spite of her fear of losing him, she did not regret her decision to allow him to go to New York all by himself. In her opinion, this was something that he should have done a long time ago. Much to her dislike, she had to admit that Marcus had a point in everything he had said to her that night. Helen could not spend more than a few hours in that motel; she had to keep moving. More importantly however, he was going to war; one that even a seasoned marine like him might not survive.
Minute after minute dragged slowly past. Helen waited for his phone call and prayed for him, in the hope that her “dark angel” as she liked to call him, would communicate with her. Unfortunately for her though, her phone rang just once during that time and Marcus was not on the other end of the line. It was her friend, Olivia, asking how she had been. Seconds into their conversation, Olivia understood that Helen was in a very poor emotional state, but, despite her continuous requests to elaborate, she would not disclose the reason. As a matter of fact, Helen was so upset that she hung up on her friend rather rudely.
The first sunbeams peeking through the window signaled the end of Marcus’s deadline. She tried contacting him, but his cell phone was off. With a heavy heart, Helen called Wilkes Barre Scranton International Airport and booked a ticket on the next available flight to Los Angeles. She was in luck. It was scheduled to depart at 9:45am and the airport was a little over thirty miles away from the town. Helen would not have to rush to get there.
Before vacating the motel room, she gazed at the spot where she and Marcus had kissed the night before, remembering his words:
“This isn’t goodbye.”
I pray to God you’re right. Helen thought to herself. I pray we get to see each other again. My God, yesterday was such an intense day. I was so scared I thought I was going to pass out or something. These past weeks have been crazy: from Shandaken to New York City; to Barbados; then back home; Right after that, L.A.; then, back home, again. Then, you showed up. Now, I have another plane to catch. It’s funny… I thought I’d be excited to go back to L.A., but I’m not. Not while worrying sick about him. The flight’s going to feel like torture and things will only get worse when I see Liv and Michelle. They’ll start asking questions and the last thing I need right now is to discuss yesterday. But then again, I’ve missed them. I can’t just go to a hotel and stare at the ceiling again.
The long flight took a toll on her. By the time Helen arrived in the city of angels, she was exhausted. However, the time that she spent on the plane gave her the chance to clear her mind. She hadn’t gotten rid of the negative thoughts, but she had relaxed enough to realize her need to share her ordeal with her friends. Willing to surprise them though, she would not call anybody.
Cheering voices filled her ears, as she approached James and Olivia’s suite. Apparently, they were in the middle of some kind of celebration, but Helen had no idea about the occasion. And, sadly for her, the person who answered the door was the one she had missed the least: Rick Briar.
“Sweet ass chick!” He cheered, opening his arms. “What a nice surprise!”
“Evening, Rick.” Helen murmured, stepping into the suite.
“Let me help you with those.” Rick suggested, reaching down to pick up one of her suitcases, as a simple glance in the living room confirmed her suspicions. Olivia, Michelle, Gina, James and Rick were celebrating something. They all had tall glasses in their hands, except Olivia.
“Helen!” She said with a grin, striding across the room. “Welcome back, honey!” She added, giving her friend a cordial hug. “Why didn’t you call and let us know you were coming?”
“That’s a long story.” Helen sighed, as Olivia slowly leaned back. “I’m sorry about hanging up on you last night.”
“Nah, it’s ok.” Olivia waved her hand in front of her face.
“So, what’s the occasion?” Helen’s question made her friend’s eyes sparkle with excitement.
“I’m pregnant.” Olivia said, her voice calm and steady, as her smile grew even wider.
“That’s great!” Helen cheered, embracing her friend, as her heart leapt with joy. “When did you guys find out?”
“This morning,” Olivia replied. “I was five days late. The pregnancy test came out positive. I went to the gynecologist. She confirmed it. I’m five weeks pregnant.”
“Tell her about your idea,” James urged, making his way towards them.
“We want you to be the godmother.” Olivia’s suggestion couldn’t have come at a better time. Helen was already happy for Olivia and James, but their idea lit up Helen’s face with a broad, happy smile.
“Thank you,” she said in a sweet voice, hugging Olivia once again. “I’d be honored.”
“The honor’s all ours,” James winked at her.
“Bumming hard, guys; bumming hard,” Rick groaned. “I mean, you could have picked me. It would be like the coolest christening ever.”
“Yes, filled with crude comments on the guests’ butts.” Gina’s voice was reeking with sarcasm. “Congratulations, Helen.”
“Thanks, Gina.” Helen gave her a polite nod. “God, I needed that.”
“Has anybody noticed the elephant that is not in the room?” Michelle said in emphatic tones. “Where is Marcus?”
“He couldn’t make it.” The tension returned in Helen’s voice
, as she dragged her gaze away from her friend. “Liv, right after you called me yesterday, he noticed we were being watched. We lost them, but, Marcus thinks –and I agree with him—that we’re in grave danger. He went to New York. He wants to try to reconnect with his father.”
“Ok, I’m confused.” Olivia confessed. “If that’s what he wants, then why do you look so upset?”
“Because: they’re the same people who killed Warrick and his wife.” Helen explained, her voice lowering by the second. “Obviously, he was starting to annoy some very important people.”
“Son of a bitch, I knew it!” James’s stentorian voice rumbled like thunder. “I knew there was something off with this.”
“What are you talking about?” Helen got curious.
“I saw a photo of the crime scene online.” James grumbled. “He was lying on his back, with the gun in his left hand. Warrick loved to play golf. He was pretty good at it. His Facebook profile is full pictures of him celebrating. Guess what. He always raised his right fist, not his left. But, there is some good news. His work didn’t go to waste. Peter has detailed backups of his phone records and his interviews with a few marine officers. According to his research, some people know Marcus was innocent. They just won’t testify, because they’re afraid of losing their jobs.”
“Well, that’s good to know, but…” Helen faltered. “I still haven’t heard from Marcus and it’s been almost twenty four hours since we last saw each other. Has he contacted you?”
“No.” James shook his head sideways, once. “I wouldn’t be worried about him, though. He can take care of himself.”
“That’s true.” Olivia agreed. “Come on, have a drink. We’re celebrating tonight.”
“Ok.” Helen said. Although she didn’t share James’s optimism, she could not say “no”. After all, the newlyweds had done her a great honor. Refusing to celebrate with them was not an option. Helen indulged them, smiling at her friends, but, she was still unable to get Marcus out of her mind. The fact that he had not contacted her yet had added to her anxiety, and, even though she was happy for them, she could not enjoy herself.
I’m sorry, guys. This may be a little too selfish of me, but, I can’t help it. How can I celebrate anything, not knowing just where in the world he is? Nah, forget about it, Helen. They’re having a baby. This is the happiest moment of their lives. They can’t understand and I can’t blame them.
27
The next morning, Helen woke up with the exact same sense of tension. She checked her phone for incoming messages, but she was bitterly disappointed. Marcus had not contacted her yet. She could suspect his fate; yet, she had no way of finding out more about him. Browsing through the internet somewhat appeased her. There were no reports on any crimes in New York, but still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened to him.
Every hour felt like an eternity. Helen refused to leave her hotel room, checking news websites every few minutes, desperately seeking information. Her attempts to reach him over the phone were futile; she always got his voice mail. In a state of panic, she even called a few police stations in New York, asking if there had been any accidents. The answers that the officers gave her were all negative, puzzling her even further.
By late afternoon, she was starting to lose hope. Olivia and Michelle tried to comfort her, maintaining that his phone could have run out of battery, but they both failed, miserably. Helen could not think of one good reason why Marcus would not contact her. According to her, he would find a way to let her know that he was alright. Her friends understood. Neither Michelle nor Olivia argued with her and chose to remain by her side, until she heard some news about him.
More than twenty four hours after her arrival at their hotel, Helen was so frustrated that the air around her seemed too thick to breathe. Rising from her bed, she began to put her clothes on, as Olivia and Michelle looked at each other in shy relief.
“Ok, I’ve had it,” Helen groaned, pulling up the zipper of her jeans. “I need some fresh air.”
“Finally,” Olivia said on an exhale. “Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here,” Helen muttered. “I feel like I’m going to suffocate in this room.”
“There’s this great Italian place, a couple of blocks away,” Michelle suggested, as her friend put on her shoes. “What do you think?”
“You guys go ahead and eat.” Helen spoke too fast. “I’m not hungry.”
“Not even for a pizza? Really? Come on, girl. You need to eat something.” Michelle’s mellow tone moved her; yet, food was the last thing on Helen’s mind.
“Please, don’t pressure me, Michelle.” She made her voice sound sweeter. “Like I said, you can eat anything you like. Let’s just get out of here, ok?”
“Ok, now I’m even more worried,” Michelle confessed. “I mean, you, turning down a pizza when you’re this upset?”
“She’s beyond upset,” Olivia spoke her mind. “Helen, let’s do what you said. But, I need you to do something for me first.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t lose faith,” Olivia explained in a deep and confident voice. “We’re talking about a man who’s survived a desert war, for God’s sake. He will come back to you. You just have to believe it.”
“This is a whole different war,” Helen heaved a long, heavy sigh. “He said it himself: He didn’t know if he’d survive. You should have seen him, before he left. He was frightened.”
“Even the toughest man can break,” Olivia pointed out. “You had just been through a terrible ordeal. I think it’s only natural.”
At that point, Helen’s phone rang. Her heart thumped in her chest, as she noticed the New York area code on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Weir?” An unknown, bass-deep voice was on the other end of the line.
“Yes, this is she.”
“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Captain Charlie Boyd; I’m with the New York Police Department. Are you the owner of a 1997, Toyota Hilux? License plate Golf, November, Oscar, Seven, Alpha, Juliet?”
“Yes. Why?” Helen’s voice was filled with agony.
“We just found it, burning, on New York State Route 97, a couple of miles east of Narrowsburg.”
“Burn…” A whisper of despair fled her lips. The world around her turned into a blur of dark colors, the color leaving her face, as her phone slipped through her fingers. Helen’s legs lost the strength to keep her upright. She swayed back and forth, her eyes closed, her stomach tumbling, as Olivia and Michelle stared at her in utter disbelief. Helen fell to the floor face down, her head inches away from Michelle’s feet. Her friend dropped to her knees beside her, before Olivia jumped over her. Bending down, she picked up Helen’s phone from the floor.
“Hello? My name’s Olivia Ralston, I’m Helen’s friend. Who is this?” She asked with a voice riddled with tension and fear.
“Captain Charlie Boyd, NYPD. I just told your friend we’d found her truck, burning on NY 97. There was a dead body in it. Do you know if she’d lent it to anybody?”
“Oh, my God…” Olivia whispered while gripping her hair, as Michelle tried to roll Helen over onto her back. “Yes, she had.”
“Do you have a name, ma’am?”
“No!” Olivia yelled, jerking her head in a spasm of despair. “I don’t know him!”
“I’m sorry. I just asked because identifying the body would be extremely difficult. He’s been badly burnt.”
Pulling the phone away from her ear, Olivia hung up and tossed it across the bed, as Michelle gently slapped Helen in the face. She fell to her knees beside her, biting her lower lip, as she reached towards her. Michelle raised her gaze to meet Olivia’s. The sorrow that was written all over her face and her watery eyes gave her the information that her friend had been dreading.
“No…” She whispered, covering her mouth with her hand, as she shook her head sideways. Helen opened her eyes to slits, as two tears streamed down Olivia’s
face. She jolted up, her breath short, as she frantically looked around her. Settling her gaze on Olivia, she recalled the police officer’s phone call. Her world tumbled down around her. She felt her heart shattering into a million pieces, as Olivia circled her left arm around her neck. Her friend pulled her close, as sadness overtook her whole being. Helen pressed her face against Olivia’s chest. Gut-wrenching pain in her chest, burning as if a fire was scorching her insides, caused her to burst into loud, wailing sobs. Her worst fear had come true. She would never again lay her eyes on the face of the man in which she had fallen so hopelessly in love. Her “dark angel” was no longer among the living. In a twist of fate, Marcus had been taken away from her. Now, Helen had to find a way to live without him…
28
A few minutes later, Olivia broke the news of Marcus’s fate to her husband. James was devastated. Joining Helen in her room, he cried hard for his friend, but he did something that she didn’t have the heart to do: Question the circumstances of Marcus’s death. Both Helen and Olivia had failed to ask the police anything further about the truck. All they knew was that it had somehow caught fire.
After contacting Captain Boyd though, it became clear to James that there was nothing suspicious concerning the case. According to the police officer, it was a mere accident. The few eye witnesses described that the driver had been speeding and that he had crashed into a light pole. They had also mentioned that the truck’s gas tank exploded very quickly and engulfed it in flames. Indeed, nothing indicated foul play.
By the early morning, David Donovan had identified his son’s body, but that only confirmed what Helen had known from the beginning. Still, for some reason she could not fathom, this piece of information was leaked to the press. In a matter of a few hours, the internet was swamped with reports of a marine who had been considered dead for six years, getting killed in a car accident. And, much to Helen’s annoyance, many reporters called Marcus a “traitor”, “rogue”, or even a “ruthless illegal arms dealer, who got what he deserved.” More than that, due to his past, he would not be given a military funeral. For the government, Marcus was not worthy of one. Unable to believe her eyes, Helen was outraged. In fact, Helen was so angry that she tried calling the webmaster of “Sparkmedia.com”, but Olivia prevented her from doing so, maintaining that the news outlet would probably publish an article on her and humiliate her as well. Leaving Helen’s room, Olivia urged her to not let her pain cloud her judgment, as that could have catastrophic effects, potentially even worse than just an embarrassing article on her.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 108
