by Virna DePaul
There was the mole, just above his right nipple, that she loved to kiss.
He was more heavily padded with muscle. The ridges of his abdomen more defined. And below that...
Even soft, Tony was impressive. And familiar. So familiar.
She felt the warmth of arousal but more than that, she felt a pang of deep affection for this man. She wanted to cradle him and tell him everything was going to be okay. But she couldn’t know that.
Gently she washed him down with a cool wet cloth. Afterward she took his temperature and did it again every half hour just as her friend Pam had instructed. His temperature hovered between 100 and 102, which was better than the 104 it had been at the hospital.
But she’d continue to keep vigil over him to make sure he didn’t relapse.
The evening transformed into dawn and Tony’s fever continued to rage on, causing him to occasionally thrash on the bed. At one point he became so restless that she left the wicker rocking chair to sit on the side of the double bed.
She smoothed her palm over his face and he quieted. As he slept, she let her mind wander to the past. Not their past together, but her past before she’d ever met him.
This had been her parents’ room when she was young—she and Kathy had shared the room up on the second story, the one tucked in the eaves, where she’d read books and dreamed through her summer days. That is, until the neighbor boys had noticed her and had taken her under their wing. She’d quickly learned how to ditch a sleeping Kathy by clambering out the window onto the broad-sloped roof and grabbing hold of the oak branch close by, then swinging herself down to the ground.
She’d been twelve the first time she’d snuck out of the house. Fifteen the last time.
The white cotton sheet she’d covered Tony with after removing his sweat-drenched clothes was now tangled between his thighs. She moved to pull the covering up, over his chest, and he shifted.
“God, it hurts,” Tony moaned.
Of course he hurt. He’d been beaten by Guapo and then Larry Moser when he’d stuck up for that kid in lockup. Then he’d had the wind knocked out of him when he’d saved her from the drive-by shooting, been attacked at her house and was now feeling the effects of a raging infection. How much pain could one man stand?
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, holding his hand in hers. “I know it hurts. I wish I could take your pain away. But you’re strong, Tony. You’ll get through this.” Then she remembered the codeine she’d picked up. Since Pam had administered the first dose at the hospital, Tony wasn’t due more antibiotics yet, but she could give him some codeine for the pain. “Let me get your pills, Tony.”
He shook his head almost frantically. “Don’t go. God, Linda, don’t go. I don’t need pills. I never did. All I need is you.”
A tight knot formed in her belly and pressed upward, under her ribs. He was delirious. Didn’t know what he was saying. But yet she knew he was finally speaking the truth to her. At least the truth as he believed it to be at the moment.
He didn’t want her to leave him. And that was a really good thing.
Because she wasn’t going anywhere.
Her hands shook as she stroked his face with light fingertips. “I won’t go, Tony,” she whispered. “I’m here. Right here.”
Tony moaned, and settled. Linda waited, stroking his head as if reassuring a small child. One more shift in position, then his breathing grew slow and steady. His facial muscles relaxed as he finally fell into a deep sleep. The knot pressing against her heart untied itself.
It was nearly noon when Linda began to feel faint from hunger. After visiting Tony at his house on Tortuga Boulevard, she’d been too upset to eat. And eating had certainly been the last thing on her mind while nursing Tony. Now, however, she needed to take advantage of the fact Tony was sleeping peacefully.
Going to the kitchen, she scrounged in the pantry for something to eat. Instant noodles or pasta with marinara sauce seemed one of the few options. Not exactly what she preferred to eat for breakfast, but she’d have to make do. She put a pot of water on to boil, and then grabbed her gym bag out of the trunk of her car. The clothes in it were old and stale from the last time she’d worked out, but they’d have to do. She hadn’t exactly taken time to pack after Tony had warned her a dirty cop was trying to hurt her.
Quickly she showered, threw her dirty clothes into the washer, then went into the kitchen to prepare a meal of rigatoni and marina sauce, with canned marinated artichoke hearts on the side. As she ate, she played the messages that had built up on her cell phone over the morning, taking notes with a pen filled with fake gold flakes—Welcome to the Gold Country!—on a pad of yellowed paper she found in one of the kitchen drawers.
Her boss, District Attorney Norman Peterson, had called twice. A deputy from the Sacramento County Sheriff’s Department had called. And Neil had called five times.
Lord, what was she going to tell them? Court had already begun and her secretary had likely already scrambled to find another attorney to sub for her. A flood of guilt filled her for her irresponsibility. Oh, give yourself a break, Linda.
She’d almost been gunned down yesterday. Seemed like a good excuse to take some time off.
She called Norm and left a message on his work phone, letting him know she needed some down time before returning to work. Then she returned Neil’s calls.
He answered on the second ring. “Linda. Where the hell have you been?”
Was that concern or censure she heard in his tone? “I just got your messages, Neil. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. Something important came up.”
“Something more important than getting shot at or your cases that are set for hearing this morning? Damn it, I thought you were dead. That whoever it was that shot at you had tried again.”
Okay, so that was definitely both concern and censure she was hearing. She bit her lip and mentally formulated her words before speaking again. She didn’t want Neil to know that she’d gone to see Tony, let alone that they were together. She was treading a thin line between professional standards and reckless behavior, yes, but no matter what Tony had done, no matter what he’d become, he was helpless to defend himself right now. Bottom line, he’d saved her and she was returning the favor.
“Neil,” she said, “that shooting affected me more than I expected. I’m still shaky, and I need to take some time away. I’ve called and left Norm a message and I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Neil chuffed out a breath. “I’m sure he’ll understand, but I’m not sure I do. When you didn’t return my messages, I went by your place. One of your neighbors told me she saw two men scuffling in your yard, and that you’d hit them with a Taser. Yet you didn’t file a report with the police and you certainly haven’t said anything at all about that.”
Damn. She’d thought no one had seen what had happened.
But nearsighted neighbors aside, there was something else causing her concern. Since when did Neil talk to her in that superior, condescending way? Her first instinct was to call him on his domineering behavior, but since she didn’t want to arouse his suspicions any more than she had and because she wanted to get back to Tony... “Was it Mrs. Whitlock?” she asked with a little laugh. “The little old lady in the house to the right of my place? The one with all the wooden ducks?”
“One and the same.” She could almost picture Neil rubbing the back of his neck. “And I think those are geese.”
“Right. Well, Mrs. Whitlock is retired from the Post Office and has plenty of time to peer out her windows and spread gossip. She’s never used this much imagination, though.”
“So what she said about two men—”
“There were two men in my yard, but they weren’t scuffling”—that wasn’t quite a lie—“and I can promise you I absolutely did not Taser anybody.” Although she had come close, she though
t. Given sufficient reason, she knew she wouldn’t have hesitated to hit the other man with a thousand volts of electricity to save Tony.
And what did that say about her? About them together?
“Then who were the men, Linda? And where are you? After what happened to you yesterday, I want to make sure you’re safe.”
His words made her feel better about his high-handed manner earlier. She’d trusted Neil enough to let him handle Tony’s case, and she wanted to trust him now...
But Tony’s words about dirty cops, along with her own knowledge of them, as well as dirty judges and murdering drug dealers, kept her cautious. “I had a couple of male friends over, that’s all. They were goofing off.”
“Male friends.” More censure in his voice. And a hint of jealousy? “And where are you now?”
Such an innocuous, reasonable question, but it made her nervous. Or was it suspicious? “I’m taking some time off to ground myself. You know how tough it’s been for me to see Tony again...and now, with the shooting, well...”
“I don’t think you should be alone, Linda. Let me—”
“Please don’t worry, Neil. I’m fine. Really. Goodbye.”
After she hung up, she thought about what she’d said.
Was she going to be fine?
Not until Tony was healthy again and out of whatever bind he was in.
Not until her heart stopped aching every time she caught a glimpse of him.
Not until her breath stopped whooshing out of her lungs every time he said her name.
No, she wasn’t fine, and she didn’t know if she’d ever be fine again.
* * *
In his dreams, Tony’s past, present and future merged into disorienting vignettes that bled into each other. The only constant in them was Linda, and that’s what kept him from fighting his way to consciousness. Even when being with Linda caused him pain, it was so much better than the chilling, hollow feeling he felt without her, knowing he was never going to be with her again.
Linda caressed his face. Murmured reassurances. Tucked a blanket around him when he was cold and gave him water when he was hot. She also recognized when he was in pain, and though she didn’t promise to take it away, she held his hand and promised him she wouldn’t leave. And that was enough.
In his dreams Tony had been granted a second chance to be with the woman he loved, and he wanted nothing more than to stay with her forever.
Only that feeling of blissful oblivion was a little too familiar.
It was the same feelings he’d sought the drugs for.
And those feelings had never lasted. Not only that, but they’d destroyed everything he’d treasured. And something told him that if he wanted Linda, really wanted her outside of his dreams, he couldn’t allow himself to luxuriate in a life without constant pain.
As hard as it was, he needed to face reality. For reality always intruded, and if he didn’t face it himself, he’d spend it alone again. For an eternity.
Despite how heavy they were, he forced his eyes open.
His vision was hazy. Still dreamlike.
But he could sense her beside him. Feel her hand in his.
He tightened his fingers, holding on to her like a lifeline, and eventually his vision cleared and she came into view.
His breath seized.
He knew he was no longer dreaming, yet she looked like a dream. One he’d had on many occasions. It was as if their years apart had never happened.
Her hair was loose, her face bare of makeup and she was wearing a familiar-looking T-shirt, one of his, that she’d often worn to bed.
“I’ve been looking for that shirt,” he murmured.
She blushed, looking slightly guilty, then tipped up her chin. “You left it behind.”
“And you didn’t burn it. Why?”
“Why would I burn it, Tony? Breaking up with you wasn’t what I wanted. It was just what needed to be done.”
She tugged her hand away from his. For a second he tightened his grip, wanting to hold on to her, but then he forced himself to let go. Of her. Of their past.
He wanted what was good for her.
He had to remember that.
So what had changed? Why was he—
Memories flooded in. Not of their past, so long ago, but of their recent past. The drive-by. Her catching him in her neighborhood and them making love.
God, he still couldn’t believe they’d made love. Even in pain, the memory just made him want her more. And he’d wanted her so badly already.
Linda coming to his house. Him following her home. The big man outside her house. A man he suspected might have been sent by Yee. Either way, Linda had been in danger. His gaze flew to hers. “The police. Did you—”
She frowned, then slowly shook her head. “I haven’t called anyone. After what you said, after what happened with that dirty cop before, I thought it was best if I waited.”
He sighed with relief. For some reason she’d trusted him and done what he’d asked.
She picked up a bottle from the nightstand and poured something into a spoon. “You need to take some antibiotics.”
Dutifully, he opened his mouth for the spoon and swallowed down the bitter-tasting medicine, then some water from the glass she offered.
As she fiddled with recapping the bottle, he looked around the room, his vision still coming and going in waves. Knotty pine walls. An old dresser. Red-and-white-checkered curtains fluttered in a gentle breeze that smelled of mint and wet earth. The trickle and hum of a creek sounded nearby.
“This is your folks’ old place, right?” he asked, trying to raise himself up in the bed. Dizziness hit, and with it, nausea. He groaned and closed his eyes.
Linda put down another medicine bottle she’d been looking at—the codeine—and helped ease him back down to the bed.
“Yes. You remember me telling you that when we got here?”
He shifted, the cotton sheet cool against his skin. Wait a minute... He pulled the sheet up and peered down. “I remember you driving me here. I don’t remember you getting me naked.”
He looked up in time to see Linda blush furiously, her cheeks now on fire. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he’d grin.
“Your clothes needed to come off. They were covered in sweat and even a little blood. You should be in the hospital, but since you vehemently objected to that option, we’re hiding out here, where we’re safe. At least, we’re safe long enough for you to get back on your feet.”
But why had she brought him here? Why had she trusted him when she should be hating him? Running from him?
Because she’d believed what he’d told her.
But was that a good thing or a bad thing? Nothing had changed. It couldn’t be coincidence that as soon as he’d shown up, she’d been put in danger.
Yet she refused to give up and walk away. She’d keep digging until she got answers and he was becoming less and less willing to deprive her of them.
Weak, he thought again. He’d always been weak, but especially so where Linda was concerned.
And it didn’t matter. He couldn’t help thinking about being with her again. In her bed. And maybe in this one. But even if he didn’t make love to her again, he was with her.
And that meant everything to him.
He covered his face with a hand. Nausea pounded him from the inside and this time he actually focused on the pain that had been hovering at his subconscious.
“Talk later,” he managed to get out.
“Wait. Let me give you some codeine—”
“Later,” he repeated and closed his eyes.
“Later,” Linda whispered, and then was gone.
Chapter 20
Linda made sure Tony was sleeping again, returned the antibiotics t
o the fridge, wrote him a note, then drove into town and headed for the little mom and pop grocery store she vaguely remembered from her youth. When she pulled in front, she remembered how the guy behind the counter used to let her and Kathy pick a candy out of the candy display every time their mom took them there.
It was nice to ponder memories from her childhood that weren’t so painful.
She slowly maneuvered her cart down the aisles, noticing how familiar even the clientele seemed. Two kids in bathing suits and flip-flops, hair still wet, followed their harried mother up and down the aisles. Just like how she used to follow her mom down the aisles after her mom would pick her up from the local pool.
An elderly woman leaned on her cart in the frozen food aisle, happily chatting with a young New Ager—the twentysomething woman was clad in a long tie-dyed dress and had an exotic head scarf covering her wild hair. It reminded her of a scarf Kathy had owned at one time.
Linda found herself smiling. Sure, there were a few new stores in town, but not much had changed since she’d stayed here as a kid.
So many things had changed, though.
She’d changed.
And Tony had changed, as well—at least that’s what he was claiming.
But had he really?
Automatically she found herself picking out things in the produce aisle that she knew from personal experience he liked. Surely his taste in food hadn’t changed. So long as he continued to get better, they’d only be holed up here for a day or two. Just long enough for him to tell her the truth about what was going on.
But then what?
Would he go back to Justine and...
She froze at her mental reminder that Tony had a girlfriend.
She slammed to a stop in front of the pears. Was she crazy? She was buying ingredients to make chicken soup for the man. She was playing Florence Nightingale to an addict and admitted murderer who had a girlfriend, she reminded herself.
