“I’m with her on this one.” Michelle said, seating herself beside Helen on her bed. “I know you’re hurting, but really, do you think that bitching at them would make you feel any better? Because I don’t.”
“I’ve lost him, Michelle.” Helen sighed, wiping her tears off her face. “My dark angel is gone. Nothing can make me feel any better.”
“Dark angel?” Michelle squinted at her. “You called him that?”
“Yeah,” Helen gave a sad snort. “Why are you asking?”
“Never mind,” Michelle waved her hand in front of her face, tearing her gaze away from her friend.
“What is it?” Helen put a little force in her voice.
“You’ll hate me if I say,” Michelle stated emphatically.
“That’s not possible,” Helen claimed. “Come on. Tell me.”
“Alright;” Michelle drew in a sharp breath, turning to her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. There is…” She faltered. “… this really, really great song by Evanescence. It’s called ‘My Heart Is Broken’. It mentions a dark angel and…”
“And?” Helen waited for her answer with bated breath, but Michelle spoke no more. Instead, she reached down and pulled Helen’s laptop closer.
“Again, please don’t hate me for this.” She spoke, her tone low, as she furiously hit the keys. “Here it is.”
A melancholic piano introduction, along with a majestic female voice filled the air, as Michelle pressed the “enter” button, one last time. The first lyrics sent chills down Helen’s spine. She had never been a fan of power chords; yet, in this particular song, they lured her in. Amy Lee’s voice spoke to her soul, as Marcus’s smiling image flashed through her mind. And, when she heard the chorus, she discovered why Michelle had kept her mouth shut. Helen dropped her face into her hands, letting a river of tears pour out of her, as wave after wave of emotion swept over her…
I will wander 'til the end of time, torn away from you
I pulled away to face the pain
I close my eyes and drift away
Over the fear that I will never find
A way to heal my soul
And I will wander 'til the end of time
Torn away from you
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us from sorrow's hold
(Over my heart)
I can't go on living this way
But I can't go back the way I came
Chained to this fear that I will never find
A way to heal my soul
And I will wander 'til the end of time
Half alive without you
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us
Change - open your eyes to the light
I denied it all so long, oh so long
Say goodbye, goodbye
My heart is broken
Release me, I can't hold on
Deliver us
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us from sorrow's hold
“How could I have been so stupid?” Michelle whispered, pulling Helen into a side hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Sweet sleep,” Helen sniffled, holding onto her friends arm, as her body shook. “God, I miss him so much…”
“Let it out,” Michelle encouraged, kissing her on the top of her head. “Let it all out.”
“I shouldn’t have told him to go back to New York.” Helen said, her voice broken, as her tears soaked her friend’s skin. “He’d still be alive…”
“… And on the run.” Michelle murmured, “Just like you. Don’t think like that. He did what he had to do to keep you safe.”
“Yeah,” Helen sighed, easing out of Michelle’s embrace. “Look where it’s got him.”
“If you weren’t grieving, you and I would be having a serious argument right now.” Michelle grumbled, stepping out of bed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Helen asked, rolling her gaze up to meet hers.
“You have no right to think like that!” Michelle yelled, pointing down at her. “The man made his choice and that choice was to protect you. Are you telling me he wouldn’t have gone back to New York, if you hadn’t asked him to? Because I don’t believe it. You have no right to feel guilty about this, Helen. You just don’t.”
Upon finishing her rant, Michelle turned on her heel and stormed out of Helen’s room, leaving her puzzled friend feeling even worse.
Nice going, Helen. You’ve managed to anger her. Why? Because she thinks exactly the same thing you told him in that motel room. You said you made your choice. He did as well. You’re right, Michelle. I’m just in too much pain to think straight…
29
The group soon packed their things and vacated the hotel. Marcus’s funeral would be held the following day and everybody wanted to bid him farewell. For Helen, these were perhaps the most excruciating hours of her stay. Having to collect clothes she had worn on her dates with him brought back the ugly memory of his tragic death. She remembered every single detail, but, the image that dominated her mind was Marcus, sitting on the saddle of his Harley, as their eyes met across the road. That night, she realized that their fates had been entwined and that was the main reason why she had insisted on dating him so much. At the same time however, Helen discovered that, as much as she would like to revisit Los Angeles one day, it would be impossible. They hadn’t met there, but most of their relationship had unfolded in the city of angels. That’s where Helen had known and loved her own angel.
Helen might have been grieving for Marcus, but Michelle’s outburst in her hotel room had been lingering in her mind as well. Her friend hadn’t been famous for her subtlety. Indeed, Michelle could be very blunt, but that was one of the things that Helen liked most about her. More importantly, though, she was the one who had offered her the job as her personal assistant. Had it not been for her, Helen wouldn’t have met Marcus at all. She valued her friendship with her and hated it that the two of them had barely exchanged words, until they boarded the plane. Luckily, she, Michelle and Olivia sat in adjacent seats, but she had to wait long enough for the boarding to be completed, as the noise from luggage being loaded and the chattering would make it hard for them to hear each other.
The massive jet engines roared, as they lifted off. Michelle looked out the window on her right, as Helen wrapped her fingers around her wrist.
“I’m sorry about yesterday.” She said in a sweet tone.
“Don’t be.” Michelle attempted a lazy tone, lightly shaking her head. “I told you about that song and I yelled at you. I’m such a catch. I’d hug you, but…” Michelle paused and looked over her headrest. “Mr. Creepy is watching. He’ll start being smart again.”
“Nope,” Rick’s usually happy voice came out drowsy; he even had a sullen look on his face. “Not anymore.”
“This is the part where you explain to them ‘why’.” Gina interjected.
“Death has that effect on you.” Rick explained. “My best friend’s friend just died. Don’t expect me to be all cheerful.”
Helen was intrigued, as a devious smile spread across Michelle’s face. She didn’t address him, though. Instead, she leaned over to Helen and whispered in her ear:
“Great. Now we’ll have two Gina’s. I’ll call him ‘Gick’ from now on.”
Helen gave a short laugh, biting her lower lip, as Michelle winked at her.
“There’s that cute smile again.” She pointed at her. “I was starting to wonder where it had gone.”
“I’m really grateful to you, Michelle.” Helen said in a more mellow tone. “I’ve experienced more in these past three weeks than in my whole life. I’m a little mad at myself for taking money from you. Now that is something I shouldn’t have done.”
“The job w
as just a pretext, sweetheart.” Michelle smiled. “It wasn’t much of a job, anyway. I couldn’t ask you to follow us down to California, flat broke. How would you pay for anything?”
“Pardon me for interrupting this tender moment, but can I have your attention?” Olivia joined the conversation, holding a newspaper in front of her. “We already know that Helen’s truck was found close to Narrowsburg. But, the paper says that it was heading towards New York, not Pennsylvania.”
“I’m not following you.” Michelle complained. “I can’t see much, either. Bring it closer.”
Olivia obliged, setting the newspaper down on Helen’s lap. The article confirmed her words.
“Ok, two questions.” Olivia went on. “One: Why was he on Route 97? Shouldn’t he be using the interstate? Two: Why would he be driving towards New York? What was he still doing there? I mean, shouldn’t he be heading in the opposite direction?”
“I can only answer the first one.” Helen spoke in a puzzled tone. “He wanted to avoid highways. Interstates are full of traffic cameras. It’s weird. He’d left Berwick almost 48 hours earlier. I doubt it’d take him more than six hours to get there.”
“We need to talk to the police.” Olivia said firmly. “Something is seriously wrong here.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Helen said with a nod. “What do you think it could be?”
“I have no idea, honey.” Olivia shrugged her shoulders. “It could be anything, really. This clue doesn’t mean much by itself, but his phone had been off all that time. Now, why would he do that?”
“Let’s not speculate, shall we?” Michelle suggested. “Let’s wait until after the funeral. The cops have a lot of explaining to do.”
Helen continued to stare at the newspaper, in the hope that Olivia had discovered an important piece of the puzzle. Part of her was desperate to believe that she didn’t know the whole truth. Still, she agreed with Michelle. Speculating was not a good idea. At any rate, the moment that she would confront the police was very close. Soon, she would have the answers that she so much needed…
30
As one would expect, the Cemetery of the Evergreens was full of people. Marcus was the son of a very powerful man, with many friends, as well as enemies. Nevertheless, what really lured most of them, was the fact that the Pentagon had been considering him dead. Many people were wondering why the government would do that to a man in uniform, since his body had never been retrieved in Afghanistan. A few of them suspected the possibility of a cover-up, whereas most of them dismissed it as a conspiracy theory.
All the same, along with common people, came dozens of reporters. As a matter of fact, there were so many television vans close to the cemetery that James had to park his car more than half a mile away from it. Once again, Helen felt anger rising within her. She knew very well what all those reporters were going to say. And, not long afterwards, her suspicions were confirmed. To make matters worse, they broadcast live from the spot, smiling for the camera, as if they were attending some sort of celebration. Helen’s initial thought was to confront a random member of the press. Their insensitivity disgusted her. But, in a matter of seconds, she rejected that notion. She was there to honor his memory, not start a fight with someone. Furthermore, making a scene in such a public place was a guaranteed way for her to be humiliated.
Before the start of the service, James told her that he wanted to see his friend’s body and asked her if she would like to go with him. But Helen didn’t have the heart to glance upon the remains of the large, handsome man who had captured her heart. She politely refused, claiming that she wanted to remember him as he was. James did take a look in the coffin, but he didn’t have the chance to talk to Helen, as reverend Douglas started his funeral sermon.
Helen was unable to hold back her tears, throughout the memorial service. Staring down at Marcus’s closed coffin, she recalled their happy times together, wishing that she could see his face, one last time. The first memory that rushed through her mind was his image at James and Olivia’s wedding, clapping his hands, with a happy smile on his face. She even remembered the short conversation she had had with Gina, shortly afterwards. Inevitably though, her mind jumped forward, to the night that he had left her at that motel in Berwick. The fear in his eyes, his trembling voice and his last kiss sent her heart into a downward spiral. Minutes before the end of the service, she was still crying in sobs, leaning her head against Olivia’s shoulder.
However, her attitude changed, when she realized that Marcus’s father was not going to say anything about his son, even though there were a podium and a microphone available. David Donovan preferred to chat with a middle-aged couple, as the large crowd began to disperse.
“Not even a eulogy?” Helen wondered, surprise written all her face.
“Maybe he’s too upset.” Olivia voiced her opinion. “He’s lost his son.”
“He doesn’t look upset.” Helen remarked, watching as Donovan smiled to the couple. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she turned her gaze to the left and up at the microphone.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Olivia said, lowering her voice. “Don’t do it.”
“Watch me,” Helen spoke in an emphatic tone, before starting towards the podium. Her friend tried to grab her by the wrist, but she quickly pulled her arm out of Olivia’s grasp. She knew that a eulogy would devastate her even further, but Helen was not going to leave the cemetery, without paying tribute to the man that she loved. Stepping up to the podium, she turned her body left and faced the crowd.
“Is this on?” She said, tapping her index finger against the microphone. The loud sound that it made gave her the answer, turning quite a few heads, but it also sent chills, up and down her spine, as the bass reverberated. Grabbing the base of the microphone, she adjusted it to her height, breathing in sighs. “Hi.” Helen began, wiping her tears off her face. “My name is Helen Weir. I came here today, to say ‘goodbye’ to someone really special to me. Imagine my surprise, when I heard a lot of the press call him ‘a traitor’, or ‘a disgrace to the uniform’. What really upsets me is that those same so-called ‘reporters’ said those horrible things, with smiles on their faces. You, sir…” She pointed down at the closest reporter across from her. ‘You did that, too. I remember you. Have you no respect?” The man in question dropped his gaze from her stare and looked down at the grass, clearly embarrassed. “You didn’t know him, like I did. Marcus was…” Helen lifted her hand to cover her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes, as her face hardened with pain. “The best man I’ve ever met: kind, loving, calm. He wasn’t a traitor. He wasn’t the monster the press thinks he was. He was…” She paused, clenching her jaw, as two tears toppled over the edge of her eyes. “… My angel; my sweet, dark angel. ‘Sleep sweet, my dark angel. Deliver us from sorrow’s hold.’”
Overwhelmed by emotion, Helen dropped her face into her hands, as more tears spilled from her eyes. The crowd went speechless for a few seconds. The only sound anybody could hear was Helen’s gentle cry. A bitter smile spread across Donovan’s aging face, as he put his hands together. Slowly, he started applauding, his gaze settled on Helen, as she took a short step back. Olivia and Michelle sprinted across the grass, as more and more people clapped their hands. The two of them jumped to the podium and embraced her, as James followed behind them.
“That’s the bravest person I’ve ever seen in my whole life.” Olivia whispered in Helen’s ear.
“You sure told them.” Michelle praised. “Good job.”
“Thanks, guys.” Helen sighed, leaning back. She was about to speak once more, when she noticed James, out of the corner of her eye.
“Excellent speech;” he spoke, his voice bass-deep; “Inspiring, actually.”
“James, did you see the body?” Helen asked, barely able with her own voice thick with emotion.
“Yeah,” he said on a sad exhale. “It’s Marcus’s. I recognized him by the Scorpion tattoo on his arm.”
His last sentence sha
ttered her last hope. Once again, the air around her seemed too thick to breathe.
“We can go to the police now, if you like.” Helen did not appreciate Olivia’s suggestion at all. James had identified his friend’s body. For her, talking to the police would be a total waste of time.
“And do what, Liv?” She wondered, lightly shaking her head. “Ask them why he was going to New York? Does it matter? He’s gone. I want to go home. Please.”
31
Helen had doubts about whether she could maintain her composure on the drive back to her birthplace. After all, it had been a very emotional day. Moreover, this would be the last time she would see her friends for a while. Olivia told her that, due to her pregnancy, she had to stay in New York. Air travel could potentially be risky for pregnant women and she was no exception. On the other hand, Michelle and James still had two more venues to play, before their West Coast tour was over. Still, Helen was so emotionally drained that she felt like she had run out of tears. Throughout the three-hour long drive, she kept looking out her window, barely saying anything.
Nonetheless, even in what seemed like the worst period of her life, the young blonde was able to find a reason to smile. As much as the eulogy she had given to Marcus had devastated her, Helen had to admit that it had also boosted her confidence. Addressing a large crowd such as that required a lot of courage, especially with dozens of reporters around. Without a second thought, she had confronted them and confessed her love to Marcus as well, resembling the strong, confident woman that he was attracted to. In her mind, this was the first and most important step she had to take, in order to get over his loss.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 109
