“Visitors will be restricted to a very small list of friends and family,” the detective had told us earlier that day. “I understand that Ms. Stregabrutta—Tina—has decided to come out of hiding to testify and will be arriving soon. After that your lives will return to normal.” What a joke! Normal! As if. Nothing would ever be normal again.
As part of the “deal”—as if we really had much say in the matter—I had been given permission to drive to Allentown where Dave had been working on this mysterious and all-consuming new landscaping job. I wanted to surprise him. I felt so guilty for all the feelings in my heart and my traitorous thoughts that I had to do something nice for him. He had taken my hesitation about moving in together pretty hard, it seemed. The last few times he had visited, he’d seemed distant and much colder than normal. I wanted to make it right again somehow.
“I will surprise him on location,” I had told my sister the day before.
Surprisingly, she frowned. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Of course I do.” I looked at her suspiciously. She had been acting very strangely lately—even for her. “Why else would I do it if I didn’t think it was a good idea?”
Even stranger, Marcy visited me later that day to bring me another one of her potions. “Wear this at all times,” she instructed, holding up a little glass vial in her hand. “It will protect you from bad vibes. And it wouldn’t hurt if you carried some skullcap tincture with you for emergencies.”
What emergencies was she talking about? It wasn’t like I was walking around panicking over everything that happened. I had been kidnapped twice in the past month and I never once freaked out—not completely anyway. Celia and the little witch were up to something, but I was too preoccupied with my own love life to think about it too much.
Jem was packed into the ambulance in a wheelchair in spite of his loud protests. “You need to rest longer. Your ankle is still not 100 percent healed, and your lungs are in serious need of a vacation,” I told him, after a lengthy conversation with one of his doctors.
I climbed up front with the EMT who was driving. The poor man was not happy. Apparently he had been grilled like a criminal by the security detail in charge of our safety. He wasn’t the only one though. Everybody in the hospital who had any contact with us, from doctors to janitors, had suffered through long interviews and intrusive background checks. Another thing to make me feel guilty.
My house would be our hidey-hole for the near future. I was not completely sure how that had come about, but one minute we had been discussing possible locations, and the next my place had been “volunteered” for it. I didn’t mind too much. At least I would be home, surrounded by the comfort of my own things. It was the company that unnerved me. Having Jem as a roommate again was not a great idea by any stretch of the imagination.
“You’ll be in separate rooms,” Miss Obvious had said. Celia seemed to be almost giddy about the situation. “There’s nothing wrong with being under the same roof.”
No, of course not. Unless you incessantly crave your roommate’s body and soul. Let’s face it. Putting Jem in an enclosed space with me was like locking a starved vampire in with a breathing human; it wouldn’t end well.
Marcy and my sister were at my place when we got there. They had been “tidying up,” which in their alien language meant they had been smudging the house with sage and hiding protective amulets. I could almost guarantee I would find a love talisman somewhere in there. They had prepared the spare bedroom for Jem and furnished it with a television set brought from God knew where.
The two of them fussed over poor Jem, who seemed utterly overwhelmed with the attention. I was almost sorry for him. He had not been around my sister for a long time. He had forgotten what a pain she could be. I grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen and decided to take pity on him. While I leaned against the doorway, Jem threw me a look that screamed help. I laughed and came to his rescue.
“All right, ladies.” I pushed my way through the two crazy women in the room. “Jem needs his rest. Doctor’s orders. Shoo.” Reluctantly, they obeyed me and left to roost in the living room instead. I looked at my bewildered friend with a grin. “I thought you enjoyed the ladies’ attention.”
He shook his head and stretched his leg on top of a small stool the dynamic duo had padded with a giant cushion. “They are something, aren’t they?”
I offered him the coffee as a peace offering. “They’re something, all right,” I agreed. “I just don’t know what exactly.”
“It’s nice to be out of that hospital though, isn’t it?” he asked, taking the mug to his lips.
I nodded and sat beside him on the love seat. “We never talked about what happened, Jem,” I said, lowering my voice so the two crazy hens in the living room wouldn’t hear me. “We should, you know? You went through hell out there.”
Jem lowered his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, brushing off the subject. “It’s over.”
“No, it’s not over.” The faded, but still very obvious, bruises on his face were a constant reminder of what had happened. “I know that inside you’re still hurting. I am.”
He put down the coffee mug and held my hands. “I’m sorry. Of course you must have felt terrified. I’ve been too preoccupied to notice….”
Pulling a little on his hands, I made him look at me. “I’m not talking about me. I’m hurting because I saw what they did to you. I have spent many a night awake thinking of how you must have felt when they beat you up. They could have killed you.”
My voice must have reflected the pain I felt inside, because his eyes softened and watered. “But they didn’t, did they?” he said. “I’m here. I’m alive and I’m not going to dwell on what happened. It’s in the past. I want to think of the future instead.” He smiled. “You know what they say—what doesn’t kill you….”
“Makes you stronger,” I finished. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
I joined my sister and friend while Jem stretched out for a nap. I was itching to leave to go see Dave. I had this notion that if I saw him outside the hospital, things would go back to normal—that I would once again feel the warmth I used to feel when I was with him. Detective Jarvas had made me promise I would wait until he himself came to escort me to Dave’s work site. He was taking his sweet time.
“I really think you should just call Dave and tell him you’re home,” Celia said, not for the first time. “It’s dangerous for you to be driving around.”
“You are full of it.” I put down the book I was reading. “For some reason, you don’t want me to go see him. What is it?”
It was impossible not to notice the furtive look between her and Marcy. “I really think it’s too risky, sis. Just stay put and he’ll come and see you.”
Marcy looked at me and then at my sister, biting her lip so hard it turned purple. “You should tell her, Celia,” the young witch said.
“Tell me what?” I yelled, frustrated. “What the hell is going on?”
A loud honk prevented my sister from answering. Visibly relieved by the interruption, she jumped out of her seat and ran to the window. “It’s Detective Jarvas.”
With a sour taste in my mouth, I grabbed my jacket from the coat hanger and opened the door. “You will tell me when I come back,” I threatened before closing the door behind me.
The drive to Allentown was almost an hour, and traffic was heavy. It was going to be a long drive.
“How is our young man doing?” the detective asked, his eyes glued to the road ahead.
“Stubborn and reluctant to talk about what happened,” I answered. “Is it normal for a victim of a violent crime to refuse to talk about it?”
His hands kept going to the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket, as if to make sure they were still there. “Very normal. By not talking about it, he’s avoiding reliving the trauma,” he explained. “Give him time. He’ll eventually open up.”
“You can smoke if you like,” I told him, real
izing he wasn’t doing it for my benefit. “Just crack the window open.”
“Thank you.” With a grateful smile, he opened the window and pulled a cigarette from the pack. “Jeremy is a brave young man.” Smoke began spiraling up and out the window.
“Yes, he is,” I said, twisting my hands on my lap. “But annoying as hell, too.”
The detective drove like a madman, and our trip was a lot shorter than I had expected. The address I had been given as Dave’s work site turned out to be a row of high-end condos downtown. Surprised, I got out of the car and, closely followed by the policeman, I walked into the building.
“Weird,” I mumbled to no one in particular. “This doesn’t look like Dave’s usual venue.”
The elevator took us to the top floor, where Dave’s secretary had told me he would be. When the doors opened, I understood why he was working there. The whole rooftop had been turned into a landscaped paradise with a lawn, pebbled paths, and even a small greenhouse. I was just admiring the beauty of the work in progress when a movement in a corner to the right of us caught my eye.
My legs gave away underneath me as my brain struggled to reconcile what I was seeing with everything I had always believed about my boyfriend. Dave was entwined in a very intimate embrace with a blonde woman I had never seen before. They were both in some level of undress, and so involved in their lovemaking that neither of them noticed they were being watched.
“Dave!” His name escaped my lips as a scream of anguish. My chest hurt as if I had just been stabbed. I couldn’t breathe. Detective Jarvas rushed to support me as I fell to the floor and faded into oblivion.
“Are you okay?” the detective was asking me as I came to sometime later. I opened my eyes slowly, woozy and dizzy, as if the whole building were moving under me. The sunlight burnt my eyes and I raised a hand to cover them. “I knew it was too soon to get you out of the house. You need a few more days’ rest.”
Shaking my head made me even dizzier. “I’m all right,” I said. “I have very low blood pressure and I tend to pass out often.” It wasn’t totally true. I did have low blood pressure, but it took a pretty good shock to make me pass out like that. “Where is he?”
Jarvas looked confused. “Who?”
“My boyfriend,” I answered, the words bitter in my mouth. “The one making out with that woman.”
His mouth fell open and he hesitated for a second. “That was your boyfriend?” I nodded. “The son of a bitch! He went to get you a glass of water. I’m going to kick his ass.”
Unsuccessfully, I tried to stand up. “Get me out of here, Detective Jarvas. Please,” I begged. “I don’t want to see him. Not now.”
The policeman slid his arm under mine and gently pulled me up to my feet. “You probably should rest a while,” he said.
I shook my head again, another wave of nausea overwhelming my senses. “No, please take me out of here. I can’t handle seeing him right now.” I must have sounded really desperate because the good cop practically carried me to the elevator and out to the car.
As we drove away I saw the tall figure of my traitorous boyfriend standing by the front door of the building. I gagged, and the car sped down the street away from there.
During our drive back home, the detective respected my need for silence, only talking once every so often to find out whether I was still breathing. Betrayal seared into my heart like acid. I had always trusted Dave. I had always loved him and respected him. Why would he betray me like this? Was there something about me that attracted acts of deception? Jem had left me without a word after a lifetime of friendship and now Dave. Was I always going to be the one left behind? Alone and empty?
When I was dropped at home and into the arms of my sister, my eyes were still dry. The one person who had been crying over the smallest thing for the past few weeks could not shed a tear now. Numb, I was not. My whole being burned with an intensity I didn’t know was possible, but the tears wouldn’t come. I was not sure my heart could handle any more pain.
“I’m sorry, sis.” Celia held me against her. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
My head popped up. “You knew?” I almost yelled. “You knew he was cheating on me and didn’t tell me?” Outrage coursed through my body, and I began shaking violently. Another betrayal.
“I was hoping Dave would tell you himself,” Celia said, her head bent. “After everything that happened, I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I just walked in on my boyfriend making out with another woman,” I said, anger coloring my voice. “Do you think that it was better that way? Do you know how it feels to watch the person you have trusted and shared your life with for two years stick his tongue down someone else’s throat? Well, do you?”
Celia had tears in her eyes, and a part of me wanted to hug her and tell her I understood why she did it. I did understand. I knew now why she practically threw me into Jem’s arms. She was hoping I would decide to break up with my two-timing lover and be happy with my childhood friend. I did understand, but I was very angry. Red-hot, blindingly angry.
“Go home, Celia.” I stood up and pointed to the door. “I need to be alone. Go!”
After retrieving her purse and keys, my sister left, throwing a last glance at me. It had been a long time since I had been angry at her, and never quite like this. I would make amends later, but for now I needed to surround myself with the cocoon of rage, protected from coherent but unsettling thoughts.
“What’s going on?” I heard Jem yell from his room. We must have woken him up.
I didn’t want to talk to him either. “Leave me alone,” I yelled back as I walked into my room and slammed the door behind me.
***
My phone had more missed calls than I could count. Once in a while I peeked at the list; most of them were from the traitor, but there were also calls from my sister, Marcy, and even my roommate. I had been stewing in my own juices for more than twenty-four hours, and I was yet to shed a tear. That small detail baffled me more than anything else. What was wrong with me? I had let my anger take over the grief, and that was not like me at all.
After a night of minimum sleep, I concocted revenge plans in my brain. I was not a vengeful person, but this whole thing had stirred such anger, such wrath in me, all I could think of was getting back at my treacherous boyfriend. Blood and murder had been part of some of the plans, but I knew those to be purely wistful. No matter how mad and how tempting it was, I would never be capable of murder. There were other ways, things I would have never thought of doing before, but that now emerged from my feverish imagination as tempting as alcohol to an addict.
“Open this door!” It was Jem. In the back of my mind I knew he must be really worried, because it was still painful for him to walk on that leg. For him to have attempted the short walk from his room to mine reeked of desperation. “He’s not worthy of your pain. Come on, Emily Rose. Come out and talk to me.”
Go away, Jem.
“Celia is sick with worry, and so am I,” he said. Well, my sister had betrayed me as well. So let her be worried. She deserved it. “Come out, Em, please.”
Eventually he gave up and I heard him limp back to his room. Didn’t they understand? With each betrayal, small or large, my heart had filled with pain just a little more, until there was no more room. I had no choice but to let it all burst out in a tidal wave of resentment and rage. I was not in control anymore. The wise, cautious, and kind woman in me had been pushed so far down in the recesses of my brain and heart that a bulldozer wouldn’t be enough to dig her out.
I spent the rest of the day plotting, allowing my rage to grow to epic proportions. By the time the dark of night rolled over, my heart had turned black and my brain had quit functioning normally. I was a walking stupid-bomb. I was aware of it to a certain extent, but it was almost as if I were watching myself from afar, a passive onlooker with no will and no power to react.
The house was very quiet. Jem must have bee
n asleep because his TV was silent. I opened the door to his room as quietly as I could manage and stepped inside. Closing the door behind me, I stood for a moment adjusting my eyes to the semidarkness. I could guess, rather than see, my friend’s sleeping form on the bed, the weak light from the alarm clock blinking to the sound of my own heart.
I crawled into bed, sitting on my bent legs beside Jem, watching as his bruised chest rose with each breath he took. A new kind of anger rose within me. Anger against the men who had done that to him, who had disfigured him with their fists and their feet. I leaned forward and brushed my hand across his chest and then his face. In spite of my anger, it was a gentle caress. One that carried all the love I’d had for him for years.
I bent down further and covered his lips with mine. I could feel the rough spots that marked where his skin had broken, and a new stirring grew inside of me. My tongue parted his lips and began exploring the warmth and sweetness of his mouth. The flicker of flame in my belly exploded into a full-blown fire when he responded in kind.
Realizing he wasn’t dreaming, Jem pulled away from me and looked me in the eye. “Emily Rose?” he said, his voice still slurred from sleep. “What are you doing?”
I crushed my lips against his in response. Forgetting his injuries, I pulled myself on top of him, drunk with desire. Underneath me I could feel his own desire growing with each stroke of my tongue against his.
Suddenly, he pushed me away. “Stop! Stop this.” Surprised by his reaction, I could only stare. “Why are you doing this?
“What do you mean, why? Isn’t this what you wanted all along?” I yelled at him, anxious to bury my anger and my frustration into lovemaking.
“You have no idea how much I want it,” he said, keeping me at bay. “But not like this.”
I slid my body along his and a moan escaped his lips. Oh, he so wanted this! Discarding the blanket that separated us, I went to work untying the strings in his pants. “Like what?” I asked, suggestively brushing my hand across the scarred muscles of his abdomen.
Loved You Always Page 15
