The Ring of Fire: The Dragon Dream: Book Two

by Robin Janney

  He thought his wife was being overly paranoid about his stepmother, but Craig couldn’t deny feeling intimidated by the fact he would be sleeping just down the hall from the woman who’d once abused him, in the same bedroom where the abuse had occurred. Especially since his father would no doubt be in the hospital for more than a few days.

  Hoping the password was still the same, he logged onto the wireless internet with his laptop long enough to ensure the camera was working and set it for a recording loop. Moments afterward, he had rearranged things, closed the curtains, and was stripping down to his boxers and sliding in between the bedcovers.

  Despite his worry, sleep was not long in coming. Little did he know, it would be the last time he’d sleep this well for quite some time.

  A fter disconnecting the phone call with her husband, Angela lay awake long into the night.

  It was like this every time Craig traveled. She’d toss and turn and end up getting no sleep. The bed felt so huge and empty without him. And cold. Even though the house was a comfortable temperature, she felt cold.

  Once the bedside clock turned to one, she sighed and climbed out of bed. She pulled her summer robe on for warmth and in bare feet headed out of the room and downstairs. Princess followed silently.

  Flipping lights on as she went, Angela found her way into the dimly lit kitchen. Warming water in the microwave, she reached into the cupboard by the stainless-steel refrigerator and drew a chamomile tea bag out of its box. And from another cupboard where her medicine was kept, she retrieved her plastic bottle of sleeping pills. She kept it down in the kitchen to make it harder for her to take them.

  One of the memories she still had from the time before the kidnapping was of pouring all the pills from a bottle like this into her hand, thinking about taking them all. There was a gap from the night she remembered, between eating pizza with the man who had become her husband and from sitting on the edge of her bed with the pills in her hand. She had never been brave enough to ask her husband what had happened between them that night, just knew that whatever had happened they’d later made up with each other.

  Was it too late to take a sleeping pill now? Angela decided she didn’t care; she was tired, and she wanted to sleep. She opened the bottle and popped a pill in her mouth even as the microwave beeped. Taking the mug of now hot water from the microwave, she slid the tea bag into the water and retraced her steps back to her bedroom. She shut off the lights she had turned on as she walked, leaving the light above the sink the only one to illuminate the darkness.

  “It doesn’t matter how long he’s gone,” she said to Princess as the dog continued to shadow her. “It’s going to feel like forever. It always does.”

  Angela sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes looking out the huge windows along the bedroom’s southern wall. Even after four years, felt weird to sit on the edge of her bed and not have her feet touch the floor. She’d never been able to buy a frame for the bed in the apartment she’d had in Tyler’s Grove and had slept with the mattress and bedsprings sitting on the floor; at the time, she’d considered it a step up since she’d started out sleeping on the floor in her old sleeping bag.

  Once she turned off the bedside lamp, she could see stars shimmering in the night sky as she drank her tea in the darkness. Her dog had settled by her side in the bed, something she allowed when Craig wasn’t here.

  When she had been born, her birth mother had named her Starlight because of her love of stargazing. Angela had tried to find what had fascinated her mother, and on nights like these she thought she understood.

  She didn’t know what her mother had seen, what dreams she had dreamt or what hopes she had hoped, but Angela drew comfort from the stars when she was lonely. She didn’t understand a lot of the things she had seen when she’d been in the coma a few years ago, but she still clung to her faith in a good God who loved her. Sometimes, in moments like these, she almost thought she had met Him in that strange dream. If that’s what it had been.

  Sometimes, phrases would repeat in her head. She was certain they were from this time. Not all the phrases sounded like something she’d said, but ‘Not all scars can be seen’ was something she had said…to someone. It wasn’t like hearing voices.

  The man (Jesus?) in her almost memories from the coma had been kind and reminded her a lot of Craig. Gentle. Forgiving. Loving. Kind. He had spoken to her like she mattered. Just like Craig usually did.

  Her husband was upset and worried over his father’s condition right now, so much his behavior had been affected. He’d been focused on the task at hand, and so had been sharp and impatient with her. With all the things she still hadn’t told him about what had happened in Tyler’s Grove, she could understand the impatience. It was hard on Craig when she couldn’t share things right away. She didn’t know how to explain her hesitation to him, she didn’t fully understand it herself. Sometimes she didn’t understand herself at all.

  “Please Jesus,” she whispered in the darkness. “I don’t know what’s coming, but please get us through it in one piece. Please be with my father-in-law and keep him safe.”

  She held her breath, hoping to see a falling star. That’s how it always happened in the movies, right? The characters would be sad and needed some sign from heaven that they’d been heard and just at the right moment a meteor would streak across the heavens leaving its fiery trail for the discouraged to see.

  But the stars twinkled safely in their home tonight, none of them falling.

  Releasing her breath, Angela downed the rest of her tea in big gulps then snuggled back under her covers.

  As she waited for the medicine to kick in and send her into a deep oblivious sleep, tears streaked silently down her cheeks.

  N ikki Flynn sat in a motel room in the middle of a Montana nowhere. It didn’t matter what state you lived in, she thought, there was always a forgotten corner of it. Her hometown of Tyler’s Grove certainly qualified as forgotten, although the place was never truly far from her thoughts.

  Watching late night television on the motel’s cable, Nikki wasn’t truly paying attention. It was an old television show; one Nikki had watched as a child and even then, it had been an old show. Places like Mayberry and Walnut Grove didn’t exist in reality, not even in Tyler’s Grove did you find such idyllic charm. It was a thin veneer at best in her hometown.

  It was one thing she had in common with Angela. She hated that town with a passion. And with a better reason. Yeah, they had judged the other, and some had even bullied Angela…but in the end, they all loved her, and most had rallied around her. They had called her a slut in the same breath as ‘precious Angela Carman.’ They had kept silent about the accident to outsiders like Craig Moore, knowing that just the hint of her deceased brother’s name could cause the ‘poor girl’ to slip into a tantrum. Panic attack? Nikki didn’t know the difference or care.

  But what had they done to Nikki?

  Shunned her.

  More than one stone had been cast her way. Not literally. Flo Jamenson especially had a way with words, usually behind a person’s back. With Nikki, it hadn’t mattered whether her back was turned or not. That two-faced witch had never had a problem saying it outright to her face. And she hadn’t been the only one. None of her own family would have nothing to do with her.

  So Nikki had found another. In another town, in another county, far away from precious Angela Carman. Granted, she had no one lover and bounced from partner to partner. She had no children. All she had were ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ who would watch out for her like she did them. She had put Tyler’s Grove behind her.

  Until she had seen the little story in the newspaper about two women framing another for theft. There had been pictures only of the women charged, but Angela’s name had been mentioned. The story had been brief; the few blurbs following it even shorter. The two women had gotten off relatively easy, both given community service since it had been their first offense. And both had been given restraining orders from b
oth the store they’d worked at and Angela.

  And it had been enough to spark all of Nikki’s buried rage.

  Her first attempt at revenge hadn’t worked out so well. Lacking the funds to put a true hit out on Angela, she had approached her father and the two women involved with the poorly attempted frame job. Phone calls had been made, and their group had grown. Together they had pooled enough resources to pull off a decent attempt, which would have worked except her father had done something stupid enough to tip off Everett Crane. How was Nikki supposed to have known the crime boss was Angela’s true father?

  She’d been forced into hiding these last few years, not even daring to go home to her adopted family. Crane didn’t know who she was, but he knew the true mastermind was still loose. Her own crime boss hadn’t disowned her, but he had made it clear not to come back until Crane stopped looking for her. Spencer was a harsh master, but fair. He even sent her a small monthly allowance.

  His favor, such as it was, hadn’t stopped her from accepting help from her newest…partner was too strict of a word. Ally perhaps. They both wanted Angela dead.

  This new plan was far bolder, and far riskier. It was destined to fail; Nikki knew this in her heart. It just didn’t feel right to her. But backing out wasn’t an option.

  She jolted as her cellphone rang. Reaching across the bed to the stand it rested on, Nikki took it in hand and flipped it open. Looking at the caller ID she almost closed it again. But she hit the green button and placed the phone to her ear. “Hey, Maggie.”

  “Nikki! Where are you?” the other woman asked.

  Nikki sighed. Maggie was only a casual lover, but the other woman tended to act as though they were a more committed couple. “I told you I had some out-of-town business to take care of.”

  “But you’ve been gone for days! I miss you. How long will it be?”

  She hesitated. “It’s going to be awhile, love. Weeks, maybe a month or more.”

  “Why so long?”

  Nikki rolled her eyes, thankful the other woman couldn’t see her. As annoying as Maggie’s clinginess was, she didn’t want to hurt the other woman’s feelings. “Maggie,” she managed to sigh instead. “I have work to do.”

  “It’s just not the same without you here,” replied the other woman. It sounded like she was pouting, and she did have the lips for a beautiful pout. “I get scared.”

  “Casey will make sure you’re not found, you have to trust him.”

  Maggie sniffed derisively. “I haven’t trusted men since the sixth grade.”

  Laughing in genuine amusement, Nikki clarified, “Casey’s no man. He’s still a boy.”

  “Still.”

  “Look,” Nikki began again. “I have to do this thing. Just trust Casey and Crane won’t find you.”

  “Oh, all right. And you don’t know when you’ll be back?”

  “Not exactly. Things have to be timed on both ends just right for it to work.”

  “I can still call you though, right?”

  “Sure. There may be times I have my phone turned off, but I’ll call you back when I get the message.”

  “Okay, good.”

  Nikki let Maggie chatter on a few more minutes, just enjoying the sound of the other’s voice. Had Nikki allowed herself to be honest, she’d have known she was in love with the other woman. But her honesty only ran to her feelings of hatred for Angela Carman and the town they both used to call home, and to her sense of betrayal by the younger woman as well as that town.

  After their conversation was over, and the phone was once again on the bedside stand, Nikki turned her attention back to the television show. Once again, she allowed herself to slip into numb oblivion to comfort herself.

  It also made it easier to ignore the shadows around her room which liked to move on their own.

  16

  C raig sat in the waiting area of the hospital with his stepmother. The doctors were with his father now, and so they had to wait. He still hadn’t seen his father. He’d arrived a few minutes too late, having forgotten what a true nightmare traffic was in the city of New York.

  His hands held his iPhone idly, wishing it was late enough in the morning to be texting with his wife. But nine in the morning in New York meant it was still seven in Montana. She was usually up by now, but she hadn’t texted him yet. It was the system they had worked out ages ago, so he wouldn’t wake her needlessly when he traveled back to this time zone.

  But it was hard to be patient right now.

  He had heard the sleeplessness in Angela’s tired voice when they’d spoken last night. Guilt filled him knowing that while he had fallen asleep with barely a second thought, his wife had most likely struggled without him there. Had she taken a sleeping pill last night after they’d hung up from each other? He wouldn’t have put it past her as it was something she’d done in the past. He probably should remind Nan and ask her to keep an eye on that for him.

  The minutes passed slowly.

  “I’m not going to bite you, Craig,” Veronica said after the first fifteen minutes had passed in silence.

  Craig shot his stepmother an apologetic look. “I’m just worried about Dad.”

  She nodded. Her long sable hair was coiled on top of her head, a few loose tendrils framed her tired face. “I know. It was a long night, even knowing he was in recovery. But I’m glad we have this time, Craig. I’ve wanted to talk to you for some time now.”

  He leaned back in his seat, looking around casually at the other families waiting in the room. They were all waiting to see someone. None were close enough to overhear them, but they weren’t so far away that he felt trapped. Maybe he felt trapped anyway. Just a bit. A lot. “Go ahead.”

  Veronica sighed softly, her fingers plucking at her silky slacks. Her back was straight, and her gray eyes were moist. For a moment she reminded Craig uncomfortably of his own wife when she was trying to summon the courage to say something hard. Angela plucked at her clothes too when she was struggling to find the right words to say. He banished the unwanted comparison from his mind and waited for his stepmother to speak.

  “I’ve wanted to apologize to you for years,” admitted the older woman. “Before you were married even. What I did to you and your brother was unforgivable, but I am sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  Angela would have looked him in the eyes after a confession like that, but Veronica kept her eyes focused downward. Didn’t mean his stepmother wasn’t being honest, because Angela and Veronica weren’t anything alike. But Craig’s insides were torn.

  Forgive her? She had raped him. Repeatedly. And then had turned to his older brother Tim when he’d offered himself as a sacrifice. She had molested Tim for years before he’d turned his rage onto other women and landed himself in prison. And when Craig had dared spend a spring break at home, she’d tried it with him again. He had hated her for years.

  Still hated her.

  As much as he loved the mother she had been before.

  “Why didn’t you?” he asked, trying to distract his own thoughts. “Apologize sooner, I mean.”

  Veronica wiped at the corner of her left eye. “I was scared. And to be honest, saving my relationship with your father was more of a priority to me and I didn’t want him to misinterpret my reaching out to you.”

  It sounded plausible. But Craig could not form the words to say You’re forgiven. Because it would be a lie. Even now, his hatred of her churned his stomach; he was hard pressed not to let it show on his face. She sat there, dressed as elegantly as though this were her weekly brunch with her girlfriends, every hair in place and her makeup subtly perfect. Even though she’d spent the night here at the hospital. Her life had not been affected by those few years, not that he could see.

  Did she even begin to fathom what she had done to him and his brother? Tim had been on his way to a promising future in baseball, and he himself had been content in his own shallow relationship with Katie. Those few nights when Veronica had ab
used him had changed his life forever. He had lost the only mother he’d ever known, had later thrown away his high school girlfriend with no explanation to her of why, and hadn’t been able to entertain the thought of having emotional intimacy and sexual relations with a woman until he’d met Angela. He had spent years in isolation from other people.

  And his stepmother was sorry. It was such an inadequate word. What was he supposed to say?

  No problem? It was a problem, and in this moment – it was still a problem. He had lost years of his life because of Veronica’s crime against him.

  It’s okay? It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay between them. He couldn’t even look at her without cringing on the inside.

  Forget about it? Craig desperately wanted to forget those nights. He envied his wife who didn’t remember everything that had happened to her. But he didn’t want this woman sitting beside him to forget this moment. Instead, he wanted her to burn with the grief and remorse he saw now. Forever.

  “Why?” he asked again. His voice was harder than he meant, but he made no attempt to gentle it. “Why are you sorry? Why did you seek help?”

  She looked at him, grief on her face, and then looked quickly away. “Your brother wrote me. Said something about closure. He was not kind. And I realized what I had done to you boys, how I had…” Her voice broke. “How I betrayed you and harmed you.”

  Craig wondered if it were true. It did sound like something his brother would do. He had corresponded with his brother on and off over the years, and probably should make the trip to the maximum-security prison to visit Tim before he returned home. But Tim had never said anything to him about writing their stepmother. He had mentioned to Craig when Angela had started writing him, so Craig believed Tim would have mentioned this.