by Loretta Lost
I am stunned by Liam’s kind words, and there is a manly tear forming at the corner of my eye. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything!” he exclaims. “Just run the hell away before the parents get suspicious. Maybe use the bathroom window? I’ll take care of things here.”
“Liam, you’re the best friend anyone could ask for,” I say as the tear falls from my eye.
“No man, you are,” he says, pulling me into a brotherly hug. “You said you had my back every step of the way, and I have yours, too. Now go.”
A surge of exhilaration courses through me. I feel like I could do anything. Even play hooky at my own wedding. I take a deep breath and pat Liam roughly on the back. Breaking the embrace, I sprint through the bathroom toward the window. The latch is rusted from lack of use and requires a bit of elbow grease to undo. Liam’s words have gotten me all fired up, and I know that I’m about to seize my true happy ending.
I love Carmen Winters and I can’t stand to be away from her for another moment.
Screw obligation. Screw responsibility. Screw all of these plans!
Life is short, and I just want to be happy.
The window pops open and a slight breeze passes through. I breathe in the same air I’ve breathed in my entire life, but today it’s different. As I jump out of the window, and the free air rushes past me, I can’t help but feel like I can fly. Of course, the one story drop ends abruptly, reminding me that I can’t. Even if my feet are grounded, it doesn’t matter, because my heart is soaring.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Carmen Winters
Lounging on the sofa of my penthouse condo, I am deep at work on my newest fashion article. Owen was right: I do have a knack for writing magazine pieces, and I have found some small success over the past few months. I still keep in touch with Lauren, and I would like to go back to work in television eventually, but since being abducted by Brad, I haven’t enjoyed being around people quite as much as I used to. It’s especially been upsetting that the particular people I want to be around the most no longer wish to be around me.
Well, that’s not entirely true, but I had to give up and let go. It was too painful to keep hanging on, and waiting for something that obviously was not going to happen. I know that it’s my fault, and I’m not angry or bitter. Losing Owen has given me some time to focus on myself, on my career, and on healing.
I think his wedding happened a few days ago. I haven’t been keeping very careful track of time. I didn’t want to think about it very much.
I suppose that buying this condo was my version of “pulling a Helen.” While it’s not a remote cabin in the woods, it is a maximum security condo with round-the-clock video surveillance, doors that are nearly impossible to be broken into, and concierge service for just about everything I need, so that I never have to go outside.
So far, my stay here has been very pleasant. It was kind of my father to provide the funds. I tried to stay with him and Leslie for a few months while our home was being fixed and rebuilt, but I kept feeling like I was intruding on their new happiness. I think that Dad and Leslie need some time alone to discover each other and grow comfortable, and having a depressed, grown-up child hanging around wasn’t doing much to help their romance.
I am happy that Dad has found someone, but I also miss the closeness we had that came from taking care of him. Now, I feel really alone for the first time in my life. Even my dead husband’s voice has stopped whispering to me inside my head. I suppose he was only there as long as I needed him, probably as a construct of my own mind. I thought I would feel grateful and less insane when Grayson’s spirit finally departed, but I only feel abandoned. I feel unneeded and unwanted, and all my validation comes from my work, and small interactions on the internet. I’ve also started reading a lot.
I’ve read all my sister’s books, and developed a fascination for thrillers featuring kidnapping and abduction—especially to strange places. I guess I find myself searching for a little piece of Brad in every villain ever created. I don’t know why. Is it because of guilt? Do I miss him? Or am I just trying to understand what happened? Am I just trying to make sense of all the horrors I faced, and figure out why people seem to always do such awful things to other people? Or am I just trying to justify that shooting him in the face was actually the right thing to do?
A little noise is heard not too far away, and I jump slightly.
I guess you could say that I’ve become paranoid. I often think about getting a guard dog to stand watch over me. It also might be nice to have a big, warm, cuddly creature to keep me company while I can’t stand to be around people. I used to have a few dogs when I was younger; they were mostly former guide dogs that we had selected to help Helen out, but she refused to ever use them out of pride. I inherited those puppies, and they became fetch players and lazy loungers instead of the service animals they were trained to be.
Now, I feel like I’m the one in need of a full-time therapy dog, just to keep me sane.
When my doorbell rings, I leap off the sofa in surprise, clutching my laptop in my hands like a weapon. My heart has started beating faster instantly, and my fingers are tightened around the keyboard section of the laptop. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to relax and place the computer down on the coffee table.
Was I expecting any deliveries?
Making a face of confusion, I smooth my summer dress and head to the door. The doorbell rings again before I’ve reached the threshold, and I growl softly in annoyance.
“I’m coming!” I call out to the impatient visitor. When I get to the door, I place my hands against the large metal panel, and peer through the keyhole. I am startled to see Owen standing there. In a tuxedo. Stepping back a little, I place a few fingers against my lips as I stare thoughtfully at the door.
He rings the doorbell again, and once again, it makes me jump.
“For god’s sake, Owen!” I say in exasperation. “I’m right here.”
“Oh! Hey, Carm? Um, will you let me in?” he asks shyly.
“Why?” I demand to know suspiciously.
“Well, I want to talk to you!” he exclaims, sounding both excited and hesitant. “Besides, I want to check and see if you’ve been taking that medication I recommended to you a while back.”
I glance toward my kitchen and see the bottles sitting there. I did take them for a few weeks, but I must admit that I started slacking off. Tapping my foot in annoyance, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Didn’t you get married recently or something?” I call through the door. “Congratulations!”
“I didn’t!” he shouts. “I just… I just left the wedding. I was standing there, staring at the altar, and I just had this breakdown or something. Liam helped me through it, and I talked to Caroline… and it turns out that we’re not going to get married after all.”
I turn around to place my back against the giant metal doors, with an odd combination of fear and hope swirling in my stomach. “Why not?” I ask him softly.
“It was all wrong!” Owen shouts. “Caroline didn’t want it, and neither did I. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized was getting hitched to the wrong chick. Also, she’s a lesbian now.”
My lips curl upward slightly. Maybe I won’t need to get a dog to keep me company after all. “Just to warn you, Owen,” I say loudly through the door, “I don’t have a great track record with relationships lately. The last two guys I married ended up dead.”
“Third time’s the charm?” he says nervously. “Either way, just in case—let’s take out a big life insurance policy!”
“I’m already rich,” I remind him. “I don’t need more dead husbands to accumulate endless wealth.”
“I doubt that you could get much for me anyway,” Owen points out. “I’m worth much more alive, and I’ll do my best to stay that way. Now, just to warn you, my last girlfriend ended up so sick and tired of me that she decided to forsake the entire male gender to explore the j
oys of other women!”
“Hmm,” I say thoughtfully. “Well, I already experimented in college, and I wasn’t a huge fan. I think what we really have to worry about is whether you’re any good in bed. I think the last time we were nearly together, you got a little performance anxiety?”
“Performance anxiety! Hell no, Carm. I mean, do you know how much porn I watch? That’s all research! I’m a master artist of coitus! I’m Picasso with a penis. I swear. You have to let me show you.”
I place a hand over my mouth to keep from erupting into laughter. “That’s big talk, buddy. You better not be setting me up for disappointment.”
“Have I ever disappointed you, Carmelita? Come on, girl. I’m going to rock your world. But first, will you please open this crazy, fortress-like door so that we can actually sit down and have a conversation?”
My smile spreads until it covers my face, and I turn around to place my fingers on the doorknob. I can’t believe this is happening. Taking a deep breath, I sigh happily as I turn the lock.
Thank you for reading End of Eternity!
While this is the final book in the series, Loretta might write more some point in the future, if there is enough interest from readers who would like to know more about the future of Owen and Carmen.
Until then, stay tuned to see what Loretta writes next! Her next series should be due out in Spring 2016:
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