They were at a stalemate. Marisol refused to engage in his verbal sparring and he felt like he was wasting his time.
“I came here to tell you that you’re done. Your freedom, your life, your career—they’re all gone. You will never get them back if I have anything to say about it.”
Her expression reflected an evil countenance and the Marisol he remembered emerged.
“If you think you have that kind of power, go for it,” she dared. “I’m confident I’ll get out of here, and my life will be better than before. Everyone loves a comeback story,” she sneered. “As for my career, it will be better than it ever was. The food in here is disgusting, so I’ll be at the perfect weight for runway work.”
“Not if you’ve been replaced,” he recounted without missing a beat.
“By who?” she asked. “Aimee Vincent? She is no competition for me! She’s just a little busybody butting in where she has no business. I guarantee the advertisers will throw her to the side once I’m released.” She gave him a satisfied glare.
“We’ll see about that,” he warned as he stood to end the visit. “You’re nothing but a lying bitch. No matter what you get away with here, you’re gonna rot in hell.”
Ignoring his tone, she gave him her sweetest smile.
“I’ll have lots of company.”
She watched as he left, confident by his reaction that her release was imminent. All she had to do was play the game.
And she was getting good at this one.
Very good.
The drive home was long and provided him an opportunity to shake off the bitterness Marisol’s visit had left. He told himself he would do what he could to make sure she wasn’t released, but he had reviewed the evidence and there was nothing specific that could convict her of the crimes without raising reasonable doubt. It disturbed and unsettled him. That would have been sufficient to fuel his revenge, but if there was one thing he’d learned through all of this it was that revenge hurt no one but the one who sought it. He’d hated Marisol since he’d suspected her. She oozed an infectious venom and he realized he’d played right into her hands. It was evident the anger which burned inside him for so long hadn’t caused her one moment of worry, and the revelation helped him to make a decision.
He chose to be happy.
What better way to beat her than to live a happy life? She had stolen pieces of him and he was a willing victim. His vengeance fed into the malevolence she desired, and he wouldn’t allow himself to be further consumed. He would do what he could to keep her in jail, but he wouldn’t hold himself at fault should she be released. He would go on with his life, finding happiness where he could because he knew how quickly it could fade. If Aimee could be brave enough to fight for her joy, how could he do less? It was easy for him to be consumed by rage, but he would fight its blackness and look for beauty, and he knew where to begin the quest.
Aimee.
He loved her differently and more intensely than he had loved Lacey. Her acceptance enabled him to possessively love her. She was his. He’d never had a love like hers. He shared his love for Lacey with everyone; students, friends, and family. He was so busy trying to love her better that he hadn’t loved her well. The love he had for her was always at the surface, going from one day to another trying to be the husband she was proud of. He hadn’t realized until she was gone that he’d been engrossed in a superficial appearance of love. She was good to him and he loved her in return, but Aimee was different.
Aimee was his.
His alone.
Unconditionally.
The ride home served two purposes; he enjoyed the solitude to readjust his mood and it allowed him time to think of something to do for Aimee. All he could hope was his plan would be well received.
In no time at all he was pulling into the driveway. Once he walked in he was greeted by his furry girl and her new friend. They seemed to be getting along well. Initially, he was concerned about how Cody would get along with the new puppy, but Lisa’s advice on how to help them get along was working well. They shadowed him in the kitchen, probably hoping for a treat, which he gave them after making them both sit for it.
He heard Aimee as he was peering inside the fridge, investigating how best to execute his idea.
“Hey,” she greeted him.
He closed the door and turned to her. She walked over to him, placing her arms around his waist. Tilting her chin upward, she offered him a kiss and he happily complied.
There was something about holding her in his arms which affected him like a potent tranquilizer. Any tension he had simply melted away. It was funny; both he and Aimee had vexing, even exasperating, personalities when they were apart, but when they were together the abrasiveness melted away like an icicle in the warm sun. After the day he’d had, the bright smile on her face brought out the tenderness in him.
“WE are going out for dinner tonight,” he said, kissing her nose.
Immediately the anticipation of a panic attack made her tense. It had been a long day and she’d noticed the anxiety attacks hit harder when she was tired. The idea of having one while out didn’t appeal to her.
“I don’t really want to,” she replied. “I would just rather stay home, if it’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, babe, but tonight we’re going out,” he insisted. “You need to get out of the house.”
Recognizing the worry which had transformed her expression, he tried to calm her fear.
“It isn’t anywhere fancy, I promise,” he assured her. “But we both need to eat—especially you,” he consoled.
Resigned, she rested her forehead against his chest as she looped her thumbs in his belt loops. Taking a deep breath, she was instantly calmed by his familiar fragrance. She knew he wouldn’t relent. She could tell he’d made up his mind by the firmness in his tone.
“You’re pushy, you know it?” she chastised. “You never take ‘no’ for an answer.”
He laughed, joining her hands to his and interlacing their fingers. “I’m not pushy,” he rebutted. “I’m assertive—and I know what I want.”
There was an unmistakable undertone of desire in his words, and he pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was warm and sweet, with a hint of something more.
She pressed into him, returning his kiss while longing to feel him full against her. Although he laid beside her every night, he never attempted to do more than hold her. She suspected he was worried he might hurt her, but she was trying to regain control of her life and she wanted to take back their intimacy.
“You know,” she said seductively as she wiggled her hips against his. “I’m better.”
The desire in her voice and its seductive implication aroused him. “Yeah? Better than what?” he teased.
She kissed his cheek and slowly worked her way to his jaw and chin. When she reached his ear, she nipped playfully and tugged its lobe with her teeth.
He groaned, but he was determined not to rush this. He would have her laid out and naked on the table in sixty seconds if he wasn’t afraid of hurting her. It took all of his self-control to take it slow, especially after all she’d been through. He took her hand, pulled it to his lips, and gently kissed and teased her fingertips with his tongue, silently promising himself they’d continue this later. Playfully, he swatted her butt.
“Go clean up,” he ordered, his voice dusted with desire. “We’re going to be late.”
She wrinkled up her nose, defying him. “You think you’re so smart,” she said, lifting his hand and placing it on her breast.
His eyebrows raised at her rebellion, resulting in a stubborn wrinkling of his forehead. It marred his handsome features. “I am very smart.” He winked at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I know exactly how to get what I want.” He let his hand slide down around her waist to her lower back. Traveling further down he rounded an ample curve and gently squeezed. “Just remember,” he challenged. “It wasn’t even hunting season when I bagged a super model.”
Playfully indignant she rolled her eyes at him, and yielding with a smirk, she went into the bedroom to change.
Thirty minutes later she came out of the bedroom in jeans and a blue, cable knit sweater. She wore her boots for warmth. He said they were going somewhere casual and everyone in the mountains dressed for warmth long into April. There was still snow on the ground, although a little more of it disappeared daily.
“Does this look okay?” she asked.
He turned when she spoke. Even in jeans and a sweater she took his breath away. “Yes,” he answered. “You’re beautiful.”
The compliment pleased her. Day by day the reminders of the attack diminished and his accolades watered her thirsty insecurities. He made her feel treasured and special, and it occurred to her that although many people praised her looks—photographers, agents, and clients—it was when Carter said she was beautiful she felt like the prettiest girl in the world.
“So where are we going?” she asked as he approached with two glasses of wine, which puzzled her. “I thought I couldn’t have alcohol,” she said taking a glass.
“I called your doctor today,” he answered. “He said a little wouldn’t hurt. Your meds aren’t very strong and you haven’t really been taking them,” he answered.
He watched as she placed the glass to her lips, her eyes closing with pleasure as she swallowed a long sip.
“Mmmm… it’s soooo good!” she purred. It made him smile.
“I thought you’d like it.”
She rested her hand gently on his arm, suddenly looking serious.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “…for being so thoughtful.”
“No problem, baby.”
After a few quiet moments she sat her glass on the table.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he answered. “Get your coat.”
She complied, slipping into her jacket. He heard as she zipped it up and he turned to see her putting on her gloves.
He’d put his coat on and took her hand in his, guiding her toward the kitchen. She was confused.
“The truck’s out front. Why are we going this way?”
When they reached the back door, he faced her. She was breathing faster and he could tell she was uncomfortable.
“You told me you have anxiety whenever you get close to this door.” He gave her a comforting glance.
“I think it’s because of what happened when you went out this door. THIS door,” he emphasized.
She was doing her best to stay composed. She knew he was right; she’d made an association between this door and the attack. It was necessary to disassociate the two. Her attacks were almost always prefaced by the “what if” thoughts. So her fear right now was “what would happen if she went through the door?” There was only one way to find out and she was with the person she trusted even more than she did herself.
She took a deep breath—three deep breaths, to be exact- because Aria always said “three deep breaths” were the key to calming down.
“I want to try something.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Do you trust me?”
She nodded and unconsciously bit her bottom lip.
He held her hand tightly as he slowly opened the door.
She was speechless.
“What happens when a cold terror fades because of a warm heart?”
Aimee asked herself that question as Carter led her to her seat. He draped a blanket across her lap, tucking it in under her thighs. He kissed her sweetly, then grabbed two sticks and hot dogs from the table.
“Dinner,” he said and held one of each out to her. Smiling, she shook her head in disbelief and held her hand out to take them. She pierced the hot dog with the curved tree branch as he sat beside her and did the same.
“You thought of everything,” she noted.
“I tried.” He returned her smile with one of his own. Placing their dinner in the fire he turned his chair to see her better.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning toward her.
She was at a loss for words. The woods behind the house didn’t seem quite so sinister when she was with him. She hadn’t been back here since the attack and certainly not in the dark. She concentrated on immersing herself in the beauty and not the blackness. Consciously engaging her senses, she purposely committed the differences to memory. Winter here held a different charm. The air was crisp and cold, thickly scented with balsam and cedar. The ground had grown soft as the sun melted the snow. There were no crickets chirping, no baritone bullfrogs, and no hum of cicadas. She listened for the crunching of raccoons and squirrels as they moved over the dry branches and leaves. She was startled by movements in the woods. She thought she saw a set of golden eyes reflected the light of the fire.
“It’s just a deer,” he assured her.
“I’m not afraid… at least not as much with you being here,” she confessed.
He smiled with satisfaction at her admission and he took the hot dogs out of the fire. He handed one of them to her.
“Eat up!”
Taking it, she held the main course in front of her lips, blowing on it to cool.
“Although I’m glad you did, why did you do this?” she asked.
He took a bite, then blew in and out quickly when he burned his tongue. She giggled at the animation and he gave her a mischievous, dirty look. He sat the stick down on the arm of the chair, taking a quick sip to cool his throbbing tongue.
“This is your house,” he shrugged. “I wanted you to be able to take it back, if it makes any sense.” He became serious for a moment. “He took so much away from you already. I didn’t want him to take this too.”
She had a moment of introspection as she weighed his meaning.
“It does make sense,” she admitted as she looked all around her, appreciating his efforts. “…and I love all of this. I’m not sure I’m ready to go walking back here again, but right now, with you here, it doesn’t seem so scary.”
She bit into her hot dog. It was the first time she’d ever eaten one cooked over an open fire and she liked it.
“Mmmm…”
“You like it?”
“It’s different,” she answered, taking another bite. “The outside is crunchier and it has a better flavor.”
“Does this mean I might be able to get the supermodel to go camping with me?” His brow arched inquisitively.
“Maybe,” she smirked playfully.
They sat by the fire for more than an hour. It was cold, but the fire kept the chill away. After they’d eaten their hot dogs he put a marshmallow on her stick.
“What do I do with this? Stick it in the fire?”
His forehead wrinkled inquisitively.
“Seriously? You’ve never roasted a marshmallow?”
She shook her head indicating she hadn’t.
“Really? Have you ever had a S’more?”
Again, she shook her head no.
“Well, baby, let me introduce you to some gooey goodness,” he laughed.
He held her arm to guide how far away the stick should be by the fire. Within minutes he had the sticky sweetness between two graham crackers and Hershey’s chocolate. He held it to her lips for her to sample.
“Oh my god…” She reveled with the first taste. “This is really, really good!”
Her reaction pleased him.
“Mmm hmm,” he said satisfied. “I know how to show a girl a good time!”
She began to laugh and cough at the same time.
“Stop! You’re going to make me choke!” she ordered.
He walked to the back door and opened it so Cody could join them outside. Her little shadow, Justice, was right behind her. He picked up the puppy and placed him on Aimee’s lap. The playful boy licked her face when he sniffed the remnants of a treat.
“It won’t be long and he won’t fit on your lap,” he said as he pet the puppy’s head. Aimee hugged him close.
“I know, but I want to hold him like this for as long as
I can,” she said sadly.
He sighed.
“You have to train him now or you’ll have a hundred pound lap dog.”
Aimee hugged the puppy again, looking at Carter with sad eyes.
“I will. I promise.”
Not convinced, he shook his head.
“Sure you will,” he answered.
The cold crept in as the fire died down. Aimee took the plates and bottles toward the house as the dogs followed. Once he had doused the flame completely, he too went in the house. She’d already taken her coat off and was making some decaf to warm them up, so he went into the living room to start a fire. She followed behind him shortly thereafter, handed him a cup, then leaned back on the cushy sofa to rest her back on the end. She tucked her toes under his thigh, just as she did the first night she came home from the hospital. He’d become used to it and rested his hand on the top of her foot.
“You seem different. What’s going on in your pretty head?” he asked.
“I am different… or, I think I am,” she answered him. She paused, reflecting for a moment, then leaned her head in to rest. “I was thinking about what you said, about this being my home and taking it back. I know you’re right. I tried it while we were out there.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m not sure if I can explain it, but I had to keep trying to focus on what was really happening instead of what did, or could, happen. You know? Try to live in the moment. It was hard, but the longer we were out there, the more I forced myself to relax. Like concentrating on how pretty the lights were, and how soft the dogs were, and how much I love you…”
He smiled.
“That’s good. Hopefully we can build on that,” he said and absentmindedly stroked the top of her foot. She closed her eyes, enjoying the simple gesture, and before long, she fell asleep.
Here/Now Page 25
