by Robin Janney
“I never meant to rekindle anything,” said Craig sorrowfully. How had he not seen it? Had he enjoyed her flirting enough to blind himself to what had been happening?
“You weren’t the one trying to rekindle it, Craig. She was. As soon as she heard you were in the city…” Mike swallowed some coffee, looked at his old friend. “Did you sleep with her?”
“No. I didn’t.” There was that much at least. “I…I was going to try, but I couldn’t.”
Mike nodded. “It wouldn’t have mattered, between you and me. But it’s nice to know. If you had…well, we’d have to talk about changing your and Raph’s nicknames around. And my wife would have stopped talking to you, so there’s that too.”
Craig managed a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve noticed Amber-Lynn has been glaring like she used to back in the day.”
“No matter how much you and Katie used to sizzle, we knew it wasn’t a good idea. The Turtles and me, I mean. My sister…” Mike rolled his eyeballs heavenward and crossed himself. “I love her Craig, but even in high school, she was a slut. How you never knew, I don’t know. You always did have a blind spot where she was concerned. After you broke up with her, she tried hitting on Raph and Donnie.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Craig, his voice small.
Mike shrugged. “You’d pulled away from everyone by then, and we didn’t want you to know anyway. Hell, if I wasn’t her brother I’m pretty sure she’d have tried sleeping with me too. She did get to Donnie and then broke his heart by telling him to make sure you knew what you’d missed out on. Donnie made us promise not to tell you. So, when she tried Raph…” The pudgy man smiled suddenly. “Man, I wish you’d been there to see it. Raph looked her straight in the eye and told her he was gay and the real reason you broke up with her was because the two of you were in love.”
“Oh my God…is that how it got started?”
Mike laughed. “It is. Raph got laid more after that by girls wanting to convert him than he had before, swore up and down it was the best lie he’d ever told.”
“I can imagine.” Craig shook his head and checked the time. As much as he wanted to go home to Angela, shame caused him to drag his feet. And he didn’t want to face his father yet either. If Angela would just call him back. “I hurt my wife tonight.”
The confusion on Mike’s face was clear. “How would she know about any of this?”
Craig shrugged one shoulder. “Someone’s been sending Angela pictures of me with Katie. Judging from the ones she sent me, she’s been getting them since the first time I ran into Katie at the park. I have no idea who it could be. And I was so angry, Mikey, I said things I never should have.”
“Were they true things?” asked Mike. “Truth comes out in anger sometimes.”
“No,” answered Craig, honestly. He was being honest, wasn’t he? But he had just tried cheating on his wife just to spite her lack of trust. Did he even know himself right now? “No. I was angry, and I just wanted to hurt her like I thought she was hurting me. I’ve tried calling her ever since I left Katie, but Angela’s not answering.”
“She might be sleeping.”
Craig shook his head. “She doesn’t sleep well when I’m not there. Her anxiety spikes. And this would have put it through the roof.”
“Have you tried the land line?”
Now Craig nodded. “Shortly before I got here. No one answered. And my phone’s almost dead.”
Mike sighed. “Look, you’re tired and you’re stressed. Go crash on my couch for a few hours and then go home. Amber-Lynn has an old cord you can use. And then, keep calling. If your wife loves you half as much as those pictures you showed us suggest, she’ll forgive you. It’ll take some time, because words don’t erase. And if the two of you need to, get some marriage counseling. Amber-Lynn and I started after my affair, and it saved our marriage.”
Craig just nodded. “Thanks Mikey.”
“Any time, Leo. It’s what friends are for.”
37
B east could easily see the breach in the ring of fire around Angela’s room. And if he could see it, then others of his kind could too. He didn’t know how long it had been there, because he’d been too busy trying to ward off attacks all without it looking like he’d switched sides.
He hadn’t switched sides, had he?
Shaking his head, he slipped through the crack which had been formed in Angela’s defenses and slipped into her bedroom. The ever-vigilant Princess looked up from where she lay at Angela’s side, her canine lips curling as she growled low in her throat.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Beast told her softly. He approached the bed slowly, the dog watching his every move. Something was drastically wrong if he was able to be this close to the Little Angel without being forced into his smaller, less frightening form.
“Your very presence here hurts her.”
“I know,” he answered, his gravelly voice soft. He looked down at the sleeping woman, who was caught in a dream not her own. Slowly, he reached out a long finger, careful to keep it curled so the sharp talon at the end wouldn’t come near her and touched her soft cheek. Caressed her even as he’d seen her husband do time and time again. She pulled away from his touch, and a soft whimper came from her.
“You used to look at me like that.”
The Beast looked at the dog, a creature of light in disguise. She had lowered her head on her paws and was looking at him in a manner the humans would call forlorn. “I am not the one who did the shunning.”
Her canine lip curled again. “I could not join you.”
“Wouldn’t, you mean.”
“The darkness would have destroyed me as it has you.”
Beast’s lips twisted in an ironic smile. “I thought you said there was hope for me yet.”
Silence stretched as the dog looked at Beast, and he returned the look even as his knuckle continued to touch the sleeping human.
“There is always hope.” The dog lifted her head and cocked it at him. “But I question your motive, your heart, your fascination with her. She is my charge, and I will not hesitate to protect her from your advances.”
What little heart Beast had left quickened inside of him. It almost sounded like she was jealous. Did she still care for him after all? “I don’t have answers for you. I question my own motives, but my heart stopped beating a long time ago.”
“It seems to have restarted.”
“Has it?” he wondered aloud. Beast pulled his knuckles away from the woman who was beginning to toss and turn in her sleep. He shrank down to his smaller size. Hopping onto the bed, he sat beside the dog. He wasn’t sure why he shifted form, just knew the form he preferred wasn’t needed here. “I don’t love her, not as I loved you. But her pain causes me pain, and I don’t know why.”
Grief gripped his heart. Was that the Little Angel’s purpose in life? To heal someone only so they could love again? What kind of cruel gift would that be? Was that Angela’s full sacrifice? To lose the man she loved…because she loved him enough to let him go?
“Craig has made his choice and he will be back,” Princess said to the thoughtful Beast, reading his mind as if they were still linked. He regretted having lost the ability on his side. “But not until after the damage has been done. I cannot see what it will do to them.”
“No one can see the future accurately,” rumbled Beast softly. “Not even the King.”
“What will be, will be.”
Beast left the bed, fluttered to their large bedroom windows, but he didn’t leave the room. Dawn was approaching, and neither of them knew what it would bring.
A ngela startled awake even as the Dragon’s maw closed around her. They had been circling in the air above the knight, and she had lost because the knight had not been in position. There had been no way for her to make it known to the knight where he needed to be.
“Crap,” she muttered, groping for a lamp in the eerie predawn light. Light, she needed light! She blinked against the sudden brillia
nce and shook off the last vestiges of the nightmare as Princess pressed against her side. At least she hadn’t woken up screaming again. Why had her dreams changed? Looking for her iPhone, Angela frowned. It wasn’t on the charger on the bedside table. That was unlike her.
Her mind tried to unclog as she checked the time on the alarm clock and stumbled into the bathroom to shower; Princess shadowed her every move, but she wasn’t awake enough to notice. She was trying to piece together the night before.
Oh God, she’d torn apart her husband’s office. And they’d tried dosing her with a sleeping pill afterwards. Hadn’t Jared asked for her phone? Something about tracing the number sending her the photos. She wondered if he’d had any success.
Dressing for a trail ride in jeans and t-shirt, with one of Craig’s long-sleeved denim shirts over it, Angela silently left the upstairs carrying the backpack she used for long trail rides and went into the large kitchen. It wasn’t the first time she’d worn one of her husband’s shirts while he was gone, and while it was a bitter feeling today she wanted to pretend for just a few moments that the conversation from last night hadn’t happened.
She saw her smartphone sitting on the kitchen table with a note under it. Why in the name of God did people think the table was the right place to be leaving notes? Put it on the goddamned refrigerator or the island. Sitting the backpack on the table, she picked both phone and paper up, and frowned. Looking at the phone first, her fingers twitched over the small button just below the screen. Had her husband tried calling or texting?
And if he hadn’t?
One press of the small button and she’d see.
Her courage failed her, and she set the phone back on the table. Reading the note by the light over the sink, Angela frowned again.
Sis – If you’re reading this, then you’re up before I am so GO BACK TO BED. I just want to say we didn’t really drug you. We just put sugar in the tea to try to trick your body into sleeping. I traced the number, and it’s a New York area code. I tried calling it, but it went to an automated voicemail. It was enough for me to figure out it’s in the same building your father-in-law lives in. If it’s early, please go back to bed and get some more sleep! Love, Jared
“Meddlesome little brother,” she muttered affectionately. Turning the paper over, she wrote her own note detailing her plans for the day along with a request to be left alone for a while.
Her hand hesitated over the phone again.
“Oh, what the hell.” Angela picked the phone up and pressed the button below the screen, but nothing happened. The battery had died. Walking upstairs to her bedroom, she plugged it into the charger by the bed and restarted it. And walked away without waiting for it to finish booting up. If her husband had texted her or called her, or if the other person had sent more detailed pictures of her husband’s affair, it would still be there when she got back from her trip.
Back in the kitchen, Angela picked up the backpack she had set down earlier and filled it with several bottles of water, more than a few apples and a Ziploc baggie full of the remaining double chocolate cookies. It wasn’t the best picnic lunch she’d ever packed, but she was in a hurry and wanted to be gone before anyone else was up.
She should take the time to eat something now, her stomach was all but howling at her. It had emptied itself before they’d given her tea. But Angela was in a hurry to be alone, and not the pretend alone she usually lived in. Checking the time on the wall clock, she winced knowing she’d be cutting it close. No doubt someone was already up, but they might not be in the stables yet.
After pulling on her riding boots at the front door, Angela slipped out of her home leaving an agitated Princess inside. Would Craig allow her to keep the house if he didn’t come back? After all, he’d built it for her.
Angela bit down the sob threatening to release. She couldn’t give into her emotions right now. Later, when it was just her, and her horse, alone in the woods she’d give release to it all. Right now, she had to focus and be quiet or she’d end up with her usual shadows.
In the quiet of the bedroom, her charging phone began to play Craig’s ringtone, none able to hear the sweet love song clip but Princess. The dog paced back and forth restlessly. Why did the King insist on them inhabiting helpless creatures?
With quick and quiet motions, Angela had Belle saddled. The black horse snorted quietly, questioning.
“Shh,” Angela whispered, looking around to make sure there was no one coming to investigate. “We need to be quiet, Belle. We’re just going for a picnic.”
Belle bobbed her head, giving Angela the impression of understanding her. The sad woman ran her hand along the horse’s neck in loving affection.
“We’ll be riding gently and quietly too. Nothing rough,” Angela continued to murmur as she climbed into the saddle. Taking one last look around, wondering how much longer she would be able to call this place home, she turned the horse north and took to the trail for the Northern Ridge even as the sun began to peek above the eastern horizon.
In the ranch house, Princess pawed at Jared’s bedroom door frantically and barked. The boy had only retired a few hours ago, but she needed someone to let her out. But there wasn’t even a pause in the snoring on the other side of the door.
Beast looked at the trapped creature of light, his gruesome face twisted in grief. “Belle is with her, but I will do what I can to aide her,” he told her, then took off after the heartbroken human who was fleeing in error. As he once had.
The abandoned iPhone began once more to play Craig’s ringtone, the soft Trisha Yearwood song sounding lonely in the empty room.
I t was almost nine by the time Craig walked back into his father’s penthouse the next morning. His mood had not lightened overnight because no one was answering any of their phones at his Montana home. Angela’s iPhone kept going to voicemail, and their landline to the answering machine. Nan wasn’t even answering her phones. His need to hear his wife’s voice and apologize to her was beginning to be laced with irritation. It’s not like he could just drive up to her apartment and break in to apologize like he had when she refused to even talk after the New Year’s Eve fiasco before they were married.
“Where the hell have you been?” Les demanded, wheeling in from the kitchen to greet him. His father’s face was as stormy as the turbulent gray sky outside the building. The storm would break before the morning was done.
Craig rubbed his face tiredly, wondering why his father hadn’t gone into the firm like he’d been expecting him to do. Mikey’s couch had been lumpy, and he hadn’t really slept. Just long enough to dream of indistinct shadows chasing after his wife. It had been the clearest dream he’d had since landing in New York and had left him edgy. “I crashed at Mikey’s. Why? I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”
Les made a disgusted sound. “Because the cops were here looking for you this morning, that’s why!”
“What? Why?”
“They wouldn’t tell me. Damn it, Craig! What the hell were you up to last night?”
“Nothing,” evaded Craig. “Nothing that would bring the police here anyway.”
“Nothing? Don’t tell me you met Katie! Damn it, Craig! I thought I raised you better than that.” Les wheeled away angrily. His tone had been thick with disappointment.
“Dad, come on.” Craig followed his father. “Yeah, I met her, but I didn’t do anything.” In the kitchen, Veronica sat at the breakfast nook in the corner eating from a bowl of mixed fruit. If Craig didn’t know better, his stepmother seemed pleased about something.
“Don’t you ‘dad’ me like I caught you with your hand in the cookie jar! Adultery ends marriages, son! And you had a good one.”
“And I’ll still have a good one when I get home!” argued Craig. He slapped the marbled island angrily. “I didn’t sleep with Katie!”
“I sure as hell hope your wife believes you, because I’m not sure I do.”
Craig jerked back as though he’d been slapped. Numbly he turn
ed and walked away. Going into his bedroom, he slammed the door shut behind him and sat on the edge of his bed. Elbows on knees, he rested his face in his hands. He was tired of everything.
He was still sitting like this when there was a firm knocking at the door just a few minutes later. “Come in,” he called out, sighing. He could hear the fumbling at the door knob confirming it was his father, and then the door opened.
Les wheeled in, swinging the door shut behind him. He stopped the wheelchair at an angle in front of his son. “Craig, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did.” Craig lowered his hands and let them hang between his knees. He met his father’s eyes, allowing the other man to see the sick grief there. “And I don’t blame you. Because I came too close to crossing that line last night, Dad. I crossed enough, I’m not even sure Angela will forgive me.”
Les sighed and leaned forward enough to place his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I did as the detectives asked and called them to inform them that you’re home now. They haven’t been gone long, so they’ll probably be here shortly. I need to know exactly what you did last night, as your lawyer.”
“I thought they didn’t tell you what they wanted.”
“They didn’t, just said you were a person of interest. And that bothers me. They asked me what time you left, and whether we’d heard from you since. I’m your father Craig, so you have a lawyer even if you don’t need one.”
Craig didn’t look at his father as he answered. “I argued with Angela last night. She’s still not answering her phone, and I don’t really blame her because I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. After I left here, I met Katie at a hotel, but that’s all. I just couldn’t follow through. So, I left her and crashed the rest of the night at Mikey’s.”
