Shattered

by Janet Nissenson

  Angela smiled now as she recalled that conversation, and at how relieved she’d felt to get it all out in the open. She’d balked at giving Lauren any more information, however, begging for her friend’s understanding for a just a little while longer. She hadn’t known when Nick would try to contact her again – or if she’d pushed him too far this time and he’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble. But when Saturday had come and gone with no word from him, she began to worry that she’d ruined it all and that he wouldn’t be calling or seeing her again. And that was when the doubts had started creeping in again, the thought that maybe she was being too demanding, asking for too much too soon, and that she really ought to let Nick dictate the pace of their newfound relationship. She’d gone back and forth in her head on the matter so many times last night that sleep hadn’t come easily, and she’d unfortunately be starting off this morning’s race with a rather bad case of sleep deprivation.

  She flipped around through several different radio stations during the drive, searching for some music to help relax and calm her mind. She finally settled on an alternative rock station, listening to the final few notes of an old Green Day song that she’d always liked. But when the next song came on, her finger froze over the pre-set buttons, knowing she should quickly change stations but unable to resist listening to Christina Perri’s haunting ballad Jar of Hearts.

  This had been another of those songs she’d played constantly on her iPod following the breakup with Nick. It had suited her mood back then perfectly, the lyrics about a former lover who was going to catch an cold because of the ice inside his soul. But now the lyrics took on something of a different meaning – especially the ones about the girl who’d been living half a life, the one who was no longer anyone’s ghost, but also the one whose lover now wanted her back. And as she continued to listen to the song, unable to turn it off, her resolve returned even stronger – the resolve that she wouldn’t fall back under Nick’s control, that she was stronger now, and was determined to never return to that ghostlike state she’d existed in for far too long.

  It was still dark when the race began at five a.m., and nearly all of the five hundred runners were wearing headlamps and some sort of reflective gear. Angela had figured that she would ditch both after completing the first lap of the course. Each lap of the rugged, rocky terrain was a little less than ten and a half miles, allowing the runners to pass by the main staging area at the end of each lap. This was where Lauren would be meeting up with her – in theory sometime around the end of lap number three, provided Lauren got up in time and didn’t get lost on the drive over. Angela had tried to give her directions but Lauren had stubbornly insisted she’d find her way over and rarely paid attention to maps anyway.

  She felt strong and focused during the first lap, especially after the sun came up. The Marin Headlands were still her very favorite place to run, even if today the trails were more crowded than usual with so many race participants. But the crowd began to thin out noticeably midway through her second lap, and she would go for half a mile or more at a time without seeing anyone else. She paid close attention to her intake of both fluids and food, even though her stomach rebelled at the thought of eating very much during an endurance event like this one. She forced herself to eat a little, however – a handful of pretzels, a couple of chunks of watermelon - especially since her lack of sleep the past two nights began to tell on her much earlier than she’d feared. Twice she lost her footing and wobbled precariously, catching herself just in time before doing a face plant on the trail. The weather, too, was turning out to be quite a bit warmer than she’d hoped for, especially since the previous day it had been cool and foggy. Her stomach began to cramp up as she completed the second lap, but after she drank two cups of the electrolyte beverage they offered at the aid station she started to feel a little better. And of course the cheers and encouragement of the volunteers and other runners helped boost her spirits, and she began the third lap with a renewed burst of energy. She knew Lauren would be there at the end of this next lap, and that her friend would certainly think of something motivational to call out as she ran past.

  But the third lap didn’t prove quite as easy as the first two. Two miles in Angela began to struggle with both nausea and dizziness, and had to take walk breaks several times. The hot sun was beating down on her and her legs began to feel wobbly. She was determined to see this through, to finish this race that she’d trained so hard for, but her body was definitely having other ideas. She forced herself to keep moving, to jog for a bit longer each time, and remain focused on her goals. She blamed her lack of energy and focus on missing out on her sleep the past couple of nights, which in itself was a direct result of being upset about what had happened with Nick.

  And it only took the most fleeting thought of him to distract her further. As she struggled along the trail, images of Nick began to crowd her mind – of how charming he’d been at the party on Friday; how wonderful it had felt to dance with him and be held close against his big body; the sensual pleasure of his possession that she’d known once again in that hotel room; the hope that had filled her heart that this time it could really work between them, could really turn into something meaningful and lasting.

  But then other, less pleasant images of him took over – of the night he’d broken up with her four years ago, forcing her out of his car and his life; of the smug look of satisfaction on his handsome face after he’d kissed her at Julia’s wedding, confident that he now had her exactly where he wanted her and that she would fly back into his arms willingly; and the taut anger she’d been met with after issuing her ultimatum on Friday.

  She was confused, uncertain, both about Nick’s true feelings for her and what her next steps should be in whatever sort of relationship they were attempting to form. Sweat was pouring down her forehead and into her eyes, making them burn, and she cursed the heavy length of her braid that felt like it weighed fifty pounds today. Something wasn’t agreeing with her stomach – perhaps the sugary electrolyte drink that she’d been guzzling down thirstily at each aid station – and she fought the urge to retch with each step she took. If she could just get through this third lap – the halfway point of the race – she would sit and rest at the staging area for a few minutes, regain her bearings, and then hopefully continue on with renewed strength.

  But barely a mile from the end of the lap, a wave of dizziness caused her to lose her balance, catching the toe of her shoe on a rock and falling hard onto the rocky trail. And as the side of her head made contact with the unforgiving terrain, she slid into total darkness.

  ***

  Nick had made it his business soon after joining Morton Sterling to learn the address of Angela’s new home. That it had been obtained dishonestly – by telling that diehard little romantic Cara that he wanted to send Angela flowers – hadn’t bothered him in the least. But now, as he parked his SUV down the street from her building, he felt renewed guilt at how easily he’d duped the naïve little admin assistant. He just hoped that Cara had a fiercely protective father or older brother looking out for her, because her gullibility would certainly make her an easy target for a guy looking to score.

  As he climbed the outer stairs to the flat, Nick thought that Angela had definitely traded up in the world by moving to this neighborhood. It was a much nicer and more desirable area from where she’d lived four years ago, and he assumed her flat was a hell of a lot bigger than her old studio apartment.

  He’d thought about calling her first – hell, he’d almost dialed her number a dozen different times yesterday – but figured the element of surprise would be on his side under the circumstances. If he had to strong arm her into his car and over to his house, he’d do exactly that. This wasn’t going to be easy for him, but he was determined to prove his willingness to change for her – for them. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

  Long seconds passed without an answer, and he wondered grimly if she was out on one of those ridiculously long
runs she apparently did on a regular basis. He was about to ring the bell again when the door to the landing opened and he found himself looking down at the petite, tawny haired woman that he recognized from the night at Orphus – the one who reportedly carried a switchblade on her person at all times. Nick’s spine stiffened, and all of his defenses rose up at once as he and Lauren McKinnon stared at each other as though they were mortal enemies. And even though it was absurd to feel even the slightest bit unsettled about a woman who was nearly a foot and a half shorter than he was, Nick began to understand what Dwayne had meant about Lauren being kind of scary. Because the look in her green eyes told him very clearly that she knew exactly who he was, and that he was going to have an awful lot to answer for.

  “So, we finally meet,” drawled Lauren, leaning casually against the door frame. “Except I think you might have a slight advantage over me – Mr. I Don’t Have a Name.”

  Nick grinned in spite of himself, realizing that Lauren’s laidback, seemingly casual attitude was anything but and he looked over her curvy, petite figure assessingly, trying to figure out where she might be carrying the knife given how tight her jeans were. “Based on the stories Angela has told me about you – Lauren – I’m amazed you haven’t managed to pry that information out of her by now.”

  “Humph.” Lauren made a sound of disgust. “That Angie can be revoltingly stubborn at times. Even drunk off her ass she didn’t cave in. So since I assume you came here looking for her, the price of entry involves information.”

  Nick held out his hand. “I’m Nick. Nick Manning. A pleasure to finally meet you, Lauren.”

  She snorted. “You’ll probably be taking those words back once I’m finished with you. But come on in. Angie’s flat is the upstairs one.”

  Nick followed Lauren up the staircase, trying not to stare at her ass while still searching for any potential hiding places for that knife. He’d just stepped inside the flat, heard the door shut behind him, and then somehow he found himself on the floor, sprawled on his back and staring up at a very smug looking Lauren.

  “It’s the big ones like you that never see that little trick coming,” she bragged. “And that particular trick never gets old.”

  Nick glared at her darkly as he got to his feet, refusing to give her the satisfaction of rubbing his sore posterior. “Angela told me you’re some kind of martial arts fanatic. What the hell was that – judo? Kung Fu?”

  “Nah. That was just good old dirty street fighting. And nothing less than you deserve for the shitty way you’ve treated Angie over the years. You’re lucky I didn’t go for the roundhouse kick. I’ve knocked men out with that one a few times.”

  He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he watched her with renewed concern. “And you’re lucky nobody’s spanked your ass in return. Or maybe they have. You like that kind of stuff, honey?”

  She winked at him suggestively. “Well, now, that’s getting a little too personal. Especially since we’ve just met. Generally speaking, though, I usually prefer to be the one doling out the punishments.”

  “Yeah, why is it that doesn’t surprise me in the least?” asked Nick caustically. “Now, am I permitted to speak to Angela or are you going to make me jump through hoops first?”

  Lauren plopped herself onto a chair. “Angie doesn’t need my permission to speak to anyone. Unlike you, Mr. Manning, I don’t impose rules on her. But she actually doesn’t happen to be home at the moment, I’m afraid.”

  He glared down at her darkly. “Okay. So you want me to play twenty questions, is that it? Where is Angela and when is she expected back?”

  “Well, that depends,” replied Lauren in a deceptively calm voice.

  When she didn’t elaborate further, Nick’s glare turned to a scowl. “All right, I’ll bite. What does it depend on – exactly?”

  She shook her head. “Uh, uh. That domineering thing doesn’t work on me, Nick. Never has, never will. So I suggest you ask your questions nicely if you want answers.”

  “You know, Lauren, I’ve known you exactly three minutes and you’re already the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met. But I sense you can play this game as well as I can so I’ll ask again – nicely this time. Where is Angela and when is she going to be back?” Nick bit out.

  “Why do you want to know?” inquired Lauren innocently. “You see, Angie hasn’t always made the best choices where you’re concerned so I’m afraid you’re going to have to go through me to get to her. And unless you can convince me that your – let’s call them intentions – are above board, you can go jump in the bay. So, why exactly are you here right now, Nick?”

  “None of your business,” he growled. “Hey, babe, I get that you’re protective of your friend. That’s admirable, especially considering how shitty her family has treated her over the years. But Angela’s a big girl now and she doesn’t need her little friend butting into her life.”

  Once again the aggravating little witch caught him completely off guard, though this time it wasn’t with one of her dirty fighting tricks. In fact, she remained seated and he was the one jumping out of the way as a wicked looked knife sailed with precision through the air, imbedding itself into the wall about three inches from his head.

  “What the fuck?” he yelled. “I swear to Christ you are insane. Totally, over the top, fucking insane.”

  Lauren stuck her tongue out at him as she very calmly sauntered over and pulled the blade out of the wall, sticking it back inside her cowboy boot where she’d evidently been hiding it. “I’ve been called worse things,” she replied. “But the one thing you do not call me is babe. Got it, big guy? And calling me Angie’s little friend is pushing it as well. So, now that we’re square on all that, let me get a few things off my chest. And then, based on your answers, I might just tell you when Angie’s due back.”

  Nick’s gaze dropped automatically to Lauren’s chest, which was very impressively showcased in a snug fitting cropped T-shirt, and forced himself not to smirk, well aware that she could pull that nasty looking knife out in the blink of an eye. “Fine,” he muttered tersely. “Say what you have to. But I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’re going to get off your chest. Unfortunately, it’s not that shirt that’s doing a piss poor job of - yeah, never mind,” he added after spying the murderous look in her eyes.

  “Hah, hah. Why do you men always think that dirty talk turns a woman on? Some of the bullshit my brother-in-law spouts – and my sister falls for it every single time.” Lauren shook her head. “So, have a seat, Nick. Way past time for you and I to get acquainted, don’t you think?”

  He sat down on the futon, careful to keep his distance from Lauren. “I suppose,” he answered grudgingly.

  “Relax.” Lauren waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m not going to start asking you a bunch of personal questions. Especially since Angela herself doesn’t seem to know a whole lot about you. I think she’d be pretty ticked off at me if I managed to pry facts out of you that are still deep, dark secrets to her. The only thing I’m really interested in finding out about you is this – what the hell are your intentions towards her this time around? Because you just about destroyed her during the last go round, and I’ll tell you now – if you screw around with her like you did the last time I’ll bury that knife of mine somewhere besides the wall. Like your chest cavity. Or your left testicle.”

  Nick suppressed a shudder, and bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep himself from delivering a scathing retort, especially since he had no desire to serve as Lauren’s target practice again today. “My intentions, as you call them,” he began tersely, “are between Angela and myself. But they are – let’s call them honorable – this time around. I know I hurt her badly four years ago.”

  “Do you?” asked Lauren somberly. “I’m really not sure you know just how badly, Nick. Obviously bad enough to make her stop eating, to lose so much weight that my sister and I actually discussed kidnapping her and forcing her to enter a clinic for those kinds of d
isorders. But we realized that she wasn’t actually anorexic, that the reason she didn’t eat was because she’d just stopped caring. About food, about herself, about living.”

  He nodded. “The first time I saw her again, back in April – I was shocked. She looked like a completely different person. And her hands – they were so cold, like she was frozen from the inside out.”

  “That’s because she was. Emotionally, at least. She shut everything down inside, cut off her feelings, and just went through life like some sort of ghost all the time. Even drinking didn’t help, because Angie’s one of those people who just gets quieter and more depressed the more she drinks.”

  Nick glared at Lauren. “And I’ve got little doubt after some of the wild stories I’ve heard that you encouraged her to drink. Angela’s got a problem with the booze, you know, she likes it a little too much. And you sure as hell didn’t do her any favors by egging her on.”

  Lauren’s green eyes were furious. “Fuck off,” she spat. “You’ve got no idea what went on these last four years, no idea at all. For example, after Angie saw you kissing one of your new sluts outside your office building she went on a total bender. She drunk dialed me, left me some sort of garbled message, and I had to force her landlord to let me in her apartment. The place was a total shit hole, she hadn’t eaten or bathed or gotten out of bed in three days, and she’d gone through at least ten bottles of booze already. If I hadn’t found her when I did, she might have died of alcohol poisoning. So if you’re looking for someone to blame for her drinking problem, asshole, you might want to start with yourself.”

  It wasn’t often that Nick found himself rendered speechless, but he could only stare at Lauren in horror after her outburst. He’d had no idea that Angela had seen him with one of the women he’d dated casually after their break-up – dated, not fucked – and that she had taken it quite so hard. He shoved a hand carelessly through his hair, the information he’d just learned too upsetting to deal with properly right now.