The Solitude of Passion

by Addison Moore

  Hudson.

  I close my eyes a moment. “That didn’t give me Lee.”

  “Nope.” He glances up from polishing his knife. “You were too stupid to hold onto her.”

  “I got her back.”

  “Until Mitch showed up again.” He blows hard against the blade.

  “She’s still with me.” I’m not cluing him in on the big powwow the three of us had the other night—or my borderline pleasure of watching Mitch walk off the plank on his way to China.

  “We’ll see.” He shrugs. “I tried taking care of things for you. The guy’s got some nether-world missile shield around him. Impenetrable—he’s an immortal or something.”

  “He’s mortal all right. You jacked him up pretty good. He’s got a banged up arm to prove it.”

  “I’m no more guilty than you are.” His brows rise as he settles those red-laced eyes over mine. “We didn’t pull the trigger, now did we?” His lip curls on the side.

  Shit. “I gotta go.” I make tracks for the door.

  All those years—all that torment of losing Lee—losing Mitch, it was orchestrated by Hudson and his backward intentions—all to hurt Mitch and exalt me in the process like some fornicating frat hero.

  Stupid.

  That’s Hudson in a word.

  26

  Fields of Fire

  Lee

  Steve arrived late.

  The babies are tucked safe and sound and, more importantly, healthy in the NICU. Each one of them is thriving and breathing on their own. They’re beyond adorable, each wrapped like a burrito with their pink and blue caps pulled over their little blonde heads. Kat is passed out for the night, so I take off.

  The sun melts over the horizon, leaving trails of burnt orange lingering in the sky. Instead of veering toward the coast, I head over to Townsend field to see if Max is still there, maybe surprise him with a little more than a kiss.

  I glance back up at the ever-darkening sunburnt sky. There’s something odd about it, ominous even. Everything about the stale, silent world outside my windshield is reminiscent of the last time we lost Mitch. I’ll never forget the horror of hearing how they found him. How a fire had ripped through the car he was in—supposedly in. I wonder what it’ll be this time. A bullet? A plane crash? A knife to the throat? They all feel like real possibilities—nefarious promises. Something doesn’t feel right. All these unsettled feelings, the unexpected birth of Kat’s babies, the fact Max and I haven’t talked since this morning, which isn’t normal for us. Something is definitely off. The charred sky knows something, and for once I want in on all its damn secrets. A warning siren goes off in my belly, and I want to know just what the hell this impending doom is. I don’t like not knowing, I don’t like suspense or decision-making. I was never a fan of those chose-your-own-destiny books in school.

  I glare up at the invisible eye of God. “That’s what we pay you for,” I hiss. We pay in trust and honor and all those noble things my parents taught me before You snatched them back. I glance at myself in the rearview mirror. There I am. Haggard. Older—tired beyond measure. I'm rattled—unsettled by something mysterious that hangs in the air like a sickle.

  I pull into the empty lot that lends an incredible view of the fields.

  No sign of Max, but that doesn’t stop me from getting out of the car and taking on the angry sky in a shouting match.

  “Where are you?” I bark it out at the red-faced universe, but really it’s the creator of all this madness I’m pegging with my anger. It feels good to scream—cleansing on some level. “I told you I couldn’t make a decision!” My entire body starts in on a series of convulsive shivers, despite the molten heat permeating me like a membrane. All of this vitriol brewing inside me, it wants to spew from me like vomit—it demands to. I’ve become a kettle, the lid rattling just before it blows. If I leave all of this toxicity in my bloodstream for another second, I’m going to die from the poison, right along with my child. “You were supposed to be in control!” My voice echoes off the fields like a song. “Where are You?” It comes out shrill, a scream rising in octaves that never lets go. “You failed me because you’re nowhere. Get down here—do something if you’re real. I’m so tired of breaking everybody’s heart. I want some action. I want it now. You hear me? Do You fucking hear me?” A hollow whisper pulsates through the air. My voice reverberates off the landscape as if mocking me, so I fill the silence once again. “Answer me, damn it. Right this second. I demand an answer!”

  A roar erupts from behind. A loud rush of wind ignites to my left, and I look over in disbelief. Row after row of vines light up like torches. A line of fire races along, swift as a stream, taking down the crops like dominos. In less than ten seconds, Townsend field is in flames all around me. It burns with vigor, with a vengeance that only the danger of a fire can provide. A choir of dancing flames thunder and snap, all in my honor. I had the audacity to take on God, defame Him with my insolence, and the punishment is proving swift.

  The heat permeates my clothing, sends my adrenaline into overdrive.

  Dear God Almighty.

  I’ve damned the whole place to hell.

  Mitch

  The souvenir kiosk is bustling as I sift through the mediocre offerings just prior to boarding. A small snow globe with the great wall encapsulated in a plastic bubble garners my attention. Looks odd yet amusing, so I clasp it in my palm. I think Eli might like it. He can hurl it at Max every now and again, probably me, too. I move over to the dolls—tall ones, small ones, porcelain, plastic. I hold up a bright red geisha for Colt’s opinion.

  “I’d do her.” He’s thumbing through the x-rated postcards, to use as a “bookmark” he claims. The fact he hasn’t picked up a book in a decade doesn’t seem to factor into the decision-making process. In his defense, he might have meant picture books.

  A plastic kabuki doll garners my attention—all the inconspicuous drama locked in her face, her sideways secretive glance, it lends a sense of mystery—but it’s the paper rose she’s clutching in her hand that has me mesmerized. It has so much meaning. I have to get it. I don’t ask for Colt’s opinion, just pay for my trinkets.

  The overhead speaker goes off and announces the boarding for our flight.

  “We’re headed back to Mono.” I pat Colt on the back.

  We move along like cattle until we step on board.

  Almost home. Home on my terms, sort of. I fight tears as we find our seats. I’m so ready to put this living hell behind us. I’m anxious to watch the earth dissipate—so glad to rise into the sky still wearing my coat of flesh, and not as some ethereal floating soul.

  I settle into my seat and smile banally as the stewardess flirts with Colt—life in all of its normal glory.

  I take a nap and wake to the plane already in the air.

  Clouds stream by in vapid haste. I look through the murky expanse and try to snatch a glimpse of the great beyond, catch God on the throne surrounded by heavenly hosts—a wink from an angel, but nothing.

  It’s over now, right?

  I give a grim smile. I think I made a difference—the whole pebble in the water deal. God touched me, I touched Gao, the boys, Mei, its all a chain that leads back to the sky. It hurt like hell, but I made it through to the other side. It was all for a reason—everything in its season. I close my eyes again. Someway, somehow it worked out. But why Max and Lee? Why twist our lives together in an eternal pretzel? I wonder if there was ever any great plan for them or if this was some big scheme to teach me a lesson for even thinking I could be in control, that I could control others in the process. But in my defense, all I ever wanted was Lee.

  I glance out the window, trying to find an answer in the clouds. I hate to remind God, but Lee is mine. He might want to double-check the system—because there is definitely a glitch. Hopefully the bugs get worked out before I hit U.S. soil. I only get one shot at happily ever after. But it’s all a bit more complicated now—especially after I stopped hating Max.

 
; I look out at the blank, open sky.

  You out there? You’re gonna fix this mess and make sure I end up with Lee, right?

  The plane dips a good ten feet.

  I’ll take that as a yes.

  My father’s words come back to me like a bucket of water thrown in my face. But I wasn’t afforded a second chance, a chance to ask forgiveness—to forgive, a chance to say goodbye. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones.

  Maybe this is the part where I forgive China—Max.

  Colton locks his fingers over my bad arm, and I let out a groan.

  “Was that turbulence?” Colt’s face bleeds out as he chokes on the words.

  “Maybe.” I look out at the sky with the blood pumping through my veins a little faster than before.

  I forgive them. I forgive an entire country—and Max Shepherd, the man who became both Stella and Lee’s universe in my absence. It’s done. Over. No more fear or outright hatred left in my bones for anything or anyone.

  Lee comes to mind. She’s such a gift. I wonder if she’ll ever fully understand how much she means to me.

  A pen peers from the seat pocket in front of me, and I pluck it out and write her a letter telling her exactly how I feel. Of course, I’d much rather say it in person—but just in case things don’t work out for me. I’ll give it to Colt to hang onto once we get home. I fold it up and hold it in my arms as if it were, Lee.

  I close my eyes and dream of castles in the sky. Lee and Stella and Eli are with me. Max is the knight galloping in the distance. I can’t tell if he’s coming or going as the scene fades in and out. It rolls on for hours as I dream my way to my beautiful wife.

  Lee and me—we’re going to happen.

  We have to.

  Max

  When I get home, there’s a note on the door from Lee, and it sends me bolting back to the car.

  Shepherd field. I race through three stale red lights, honking like a jackass. Lee’s note said there was trouble—to get here quick. I put in a call to her, but she doesn’t pick up. She probably misplaced her phone, thus the note.

  The fields look peaceful, the parking lot’s empty. She’s probably on her way with a picnic basket and a bottle of bubbly. The memory of her body writhing under mine comes back to me. We’ve christened the sheets the past few nights with the anthem of our love.

  I head into the office and pour myself a stale cup of coffee left over from this morning, looking out at the leaves waving in the night breeze, pale as butter. Nothing says peace and quiet like this place. And for sure there’s not one sign of trouble. Sounds more like a proposition from my very hormonal wife. Not that I mind. Hell, I’m more than pleased. Having Lee beats Christmas morning every single time.

  A strange glow in the distance catches my attention. Then like a bolt of lightning it races through the fields, igniting in a fire line that maps out like a square.

  “Shit.” I knock my coffee over before heading out the door.

  A wall of fire—an entire fortress of flames engulfs every single acre.

  “Fuck!”

  I dig for my phone in a panic and call 911.

  “There’s a fire at Shepherd field. The whole thing’s lit up. We’re going to need several trucks.”

  “You mean Townsend?” The female voice asks from the other line. “The field fire at Jenson road has already been called in sir.”

  The world stops. Gravity digs its lead claws into my shoulders, and I sink into another dimension. I tuck my head between my knees a moment before hanging up and calling Lee, but there’s no response.

  I stagger over to the edge of the parking lot and take the view in full. The blaze riots into the sky. The flames fan out. The fire roars and laughs, dark like a demon. It expands its molten wings over the entire field, all of Shepherd soil is baptized in this fire. The flames taunt me. They rise like lions, bear their pointed teeth and lunge at me with the wind as if I was their target all along.

  “Shit.”

  I jump in the car and speed down the road as the sound of sirens scream through the night. Mono is lit up like a jack o’ lantern. But right now, all I care about is Lee and our baby.

  The sting of tears blurs my vision. Headlights come at me and I breathe a sigh of relief at the familiar looking car.

  “Lee!” I scream stopping in the middle of the road as we both get out. I pull her in and crash my lips to hers. “You okay?” Ashes fall in my mouth as I shout over the noise. I’m eating Shepherd field, literally.

  “It’s gone.” She grips my shirt as if she were in pain.

  “The baby?”

  “Townsend.” Tears track down her face like an oil slick. “It’s burning.”

  I glance back at Shepherd, at the hurdling flames that stretch to the sky.

  She rattles my shirt. “Who did this?”

  “I have an idea.” I coax her back into her car and have her follow me home.

  We ride through town under a cover of embers, salt grey pillars rising from opposite directions as Mitch and I burn together. It was as if our fathers had roused themselves from the grave to teach us a lesson from the great beyond. It’s over now. No more worrying, all the backbreaking, the financial tap dancing up in smoke—ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Maybe Mitch wasn’t the bad luck charm after all. Maybe it was me all along.

  I look back up at the remnants of sky.

  Somehow, someway, Townsend Shepherd needs to survive this nightmare.

  A rolling black cloud boils up above. Nothing but soot and fumes clotting up the sky.

  Lee sees me as some kind of savior. I need to pull this off to help keep her sanity.

  I’d do anything for her—and the truth is, I’d do anything for Mitch, too.

  27

  Abduction

  Lee

  “Whoever did this, set us up.” Max glares out the kitchen window. The orange sky is lit up like a flame, mocking us as we sit idle while everything we worked for is reduced to cinders.

  “Nobody knew I was going to Townsend,” I say. “I didn’t even know until I made that turn.”

  “Maybe they saw you and decided it would be serendipitous of me to do the same?” He tries to explain away the note. “Don’t you get it? We’re on the security tape in the parking lot. Insurance will never cover the claims if they smell arson, and believe you me they will smell arson. I let go every damn person that runs the fields indefinitely three days ago. That left us plenty of time to gas those fields.”

  “I don’t get it.” I blink into him. “We would never do something like that. Everyone would vouch for us. We breathe, eat, and live for our business.”

  “I don’t get it either.” He comes over and wraps his arms around me, solid and stable. “You want to hear something scary? If it was just the twin burns, I almost would have been fine with it. No more headaches, the bills, the drama—everything would have been swept away neatly. But for someone to do this? It just got personal. Who hates us so much that they’d not only want to imply we were somehow involved—but Lee, they could have killed us.”

  A set of tiny footsteps make their way down the stairs.

  It’s well past two in the morning, and I can’t even think about sleep. We spent the last four hours lost in a flurry of police reports not to mention dealing with a distraught Janice and Sheila who actually embraced for the first time in years right here in our living room.

  “I’m thirsty.” Stella twists her fists into her eyes.

  Max gets up and pours a cup of milk. “Just a sip.”

  “Is Picture Daddy home?” Her mouth cinches up, and she looks like a twin to her father. It guts me just to take her in.

  I had forgotten all about Mitch, quite possibly the only time I’ve completely dissolved him out of my mind.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. God, I miss Mitch. He’s the secret scent I long to inhale.

  “Not yet.” I pat her on the bottom and shoo her back upstairs. “I guess he should know as soon as his plane lands,” I say. “I�
�ll let Janice tell him.” God knows I won’t be the one to deliver the blow.

  “He’ll think I did it.” Max looks resigned to this.

  Sadly, he’s probably right.

  His mouth rounds out to a perfect O before he snaps it shut abruptly.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You were going to say something. No room for secrets, Max. What is it?”

  “I had this crazy afternoon with Hudson and Candi.” He exhales hard. “There was this guy helping her get her stuff, and he fit the description of the guy who shot Mitch.” He taps his lips.

  “You saw him?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s the same person. I doubt Hudson knows too many people sporting a heavy metal smile.”

  “Max,” I whisper. “We need to call the police.”

  “Tomorrow.” He lands a kiss over my forehead and lingers. “Let’s get to bed and try to forget the world for a while.” He rides his hands over my back. “Tomorrow has got to be a better day.”

  “It will be.”

  It’s a lie.

  We both know it is.

  Once we crawl into bed, Max glides his hands over me, slow and soothing. I let him kneed his fingers into my flesh, working out the kinks in my back, my thighs, my most intimate part until I’m groaning with pleasure. Max pulls himself over me and I guide him in. He glides in and out with slow, easy thrusts, and I convince myself it’s months ago and Mitch never came back. We still have Townsend and Shepherd, and everything is back to normal, at least the normal we bought the idea of—the one we thrived in for five long years.

  Max pulls me up until I’ve wrapped my legs around his waist and we rock steady into the night with our mouths fused together. Selfishly I never want this night to end. I try to memorize the way I feel, dizzy and heady with Max buried high inside me, loving me with his hot lashing kisses. A thread of excitement rails through me, and I don’t fight it. A cry escapes me as I seize over him, my fingernails dig into his back in a fit of pleasure. Max clasps onto me and presses me into him so hard, a moan rips from my throat.