by Susanne Beck
"Damn it, Angel! If you stay with me, you’ll only be putting yourself into yet another prison! Can’t you see that?"
Yes, she was angry. But this time . . .this time, I wasn’t afraid.
"Ice, the only prison I’d be going back to is the one you’d put me in by refusing to let me make my own decisions over what I want my life to be. There wouldn’t be any bars except for the ones around my heart. That’s a place I don’t ever want to go to. It would be a thousand times worse than the Bog could ever be." I grasped her hand and held it tightly, bringing our joined hands upward so she could plainly see them. "My life is with you, Morgan Steele. It has been since the first day I saw you. That won’t ever change, whether you let me stay with you or not."
For the first time since I’d known her, Ice looked frightened. It wasn’t a panic fright, to be sure, but she was scared. "I . . .can’t . . ."
I put my fingers over her lips. "Maybe not," I whispered. "But I can."
And so I did.
And in so doing, I effectively, efficiently turned the tables on her. Cleaving myself to her despite her very valid and heartfelt objections, I took the decision out of her hands and brought it into my own.
She tried to warn me—god, how many times?—that it would one day come to this.
And when it did, I gave her everything but what she needed the most.
My support.
She had done what she had done. Her actions, rather than stemming from within the murky depths of a blackened heart, were, quite simply, the only things she could do. No exceptions, no excuses.
She’d been pushed into a corner and had come out fighting.
If it had been me, I would have died in that clearing. So would anyone else I’ve ever known.
She lived.
And in the end, after the votes were cast and the results tallied, that was all that really mattered.
She lived.
And, just like that, all my doubts, my worries, my insecurities crumbled to dust and blew away. My shame still lingered and it would be something I would deal with for a very long time to come.
Right then, though, it didn’t matter.
What mattered was that the woman I loved with all my soul needed me, perhaps more than she’d ever needed anyone before.
And come hell, high water, or a certain elderly librarian with an affinity for poisons, pokers and teakettles, I would try my damndest to be for Ice what she was for me.
Everything.
A woman on a mission, I rose to my feet, barely conscious of the stiffness of my muscles and the throbbing of my leg. With determined steps, I walked off the dock, up the hill and into the house, ignoring the questioning glances thrown my way by the men and women who’d come to lend their support to a friend hurt and in need.
My face set in a stony mask borrowed temporarily from Ice, I ascended the stairs and entered the battlefield, giving Corinne a look that said, in no uncertain terms, that if she wanted war, she’d get it. I wouldn’t back off until I’d won.
She read it well in those first silent seconds, her own eyes widening slightly before she relaxed back against the chair she’d pulled up beside the bed. She gave me a little smile of acknowledgement, tilting her head slightly in the direction of Ice, who was still in a deep sleep.
"Did she wake up at all?" I asked, fighting to keep the flush from coloring my face yet again.
"No. She’s been resting quietly."
I nodded. Then I consciously softened my gaze. "I love her, Corinne. All of her. You can believe me or not, that’s up to you. But I do love her, and I won’t ever give her up." I swallowed, hard. "Unless she asks me to."
"And if she does?"
I took in a deep breath, let it out, and spoke the words written on my heart. "If she does, I’ll let her go. Without question."
After a moment, Corinne nodded. Then she grinned crookedly. "Was there ever any doubt?"
"No. Questions, yes. Fears, yes. Doubt? No."
Her eyes twinkled. "Didn’t think so."
I could feel my own eyes widen. "You didn’t think . . . . Then why . . . ?"
"Because you needed to sit down and examine things for yourself, Angel. Part of you was living in a dreamland for a very long time. And unless you gave yourself time to discover the reality of your true feelings, things would have continued to snowball until we were all buried in it. Ice doesn’t deserve that. And neither do you." She laughed softly. "Ya done good, Angel."
I couldn’t help but laugh in relief. "Remind me to hurt you later."
"Oooooh. Promise?"
Resisting the urge to smack her silly, I instead crawled up on the bed and curled up tight against the one person in the world who held my heart in the palm of her hand, and fell immediately into a deep and dreamless sleep, not noticing when her arm wrapped itself around my shoulders in an unconscious gesture of acceptance and love.
* * *
When consciousness once again claimed me for its own, Bull’s concerned face was the first thing I saw.
As his expression filtered its way through my slowly awakening mind, I sat bolt upright, grabbing his arm. "Is something wrong? What happened? Is Ice alright?" I demanded, too afraid to turn and view the object of my frantic questioning myself until I had a better idea about what I might find.
"She’s fine," Bull replied quickly, making calming gestures with his hands, much as someone might who was trying to calm a frightened animal or child. "Just a little restless." Then he smiled, and I relaxed. "She woke up briefly, saw you, smiled, and fell right back to sleep. Didn’t even have to give her a shot." Chuckling, he affectionately cuffed my arm. "Wonder if she’d mind if I stole you away for hunting trips. You seem to work miracles and it’d save me a mint in narcotics."
I couldn’t help but grin at him. "Me? Alone with a bunch of sweaty men in an unheated cabin watching you pick ammunition out of someone’s behind by candlelight? No thanks. Think I’ll pass on that one, charming as the offer is."
Turning my back on his mock pout, I finally gathered the courage to look at my lover. Her face looked peaceful, smooth in a way it never did, even when she was sleeping. Her skin showed neither the high color of fever nor the waxen pallor I’d seen just prior to falling asleep. Reaching over, I laid a hand on her brow and found it cool and dry. "Her fever broke!"
"Yes," Bull replied, "a couple hours ago."
"That’s good, right?" I asked, not taking my eyes off her.
"Well, we’re not out of the woods yet, but yes, it’s a good sign."
"It’s a great sign," I replied, bending over and placing a kiss on her cheek. "She’s tough."
"I won’t argue with you there, Angel. She’s about the toughest person I’ve ever known, and I’ve been around some real winners, lemme tell you."
I yawned and stretched, resisting the urge just to snuggled back down next to the woman I’d been away from for far too long. Looking at the clock, I realized that twelve hours had passed since I’d fallen asleep.
Bull must have read the question on my face, because he grinned in response. "You needed it," he said simply. Then he chuckled. "Besides, even if you were awake, there’s not much you could have done anyway. Ice didn’t seem very inclined to let you go for awhile there."
I turned to him. "What do you mean?"
"Just what I said. She was holding on to you like you were her Teddy Bear." He blushed. "Not that I was implying that Ice ever owned a teddy bear, mind you . . . . She . . .uh . . . . Aww crap."
I laughed. "I won’t tell anyone if you don’t."
He nodded, relieved. "Deal."
I heard the downstairs door open, followed by the sound of male voices speaking quietly as the men they were attached to entered the cabin. Bull glanced over the railing, then back at me, both eyebrows raised in silent question. "Sure. Have ‘em come up."
He gestured, and I heard the men ascend the stairs, coming into the room and revealing themselves as Tom and John. Both were muddy and looked tired, but th
ey also seemed very much pleased with themselves, sporting as they did identical smug grins.
"What have you two been up to?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," Tom replied, bouncing on his toes like a young boy with a big secret—or a small bladder.
"Care to be a bit more specific?"
"We were busy getting rid of the evidence," John replied, elbowing his brother in the belly.
Evidence. My mind replayed the scene of my dream; the crumpled car, the savaged bodies, the guns . . . .
"The gun! It’s got Ice’s fingerprints all over it!"
"Not to worry, Tyler," Tom replied. "We took care of that too."
"How?"
The two men looked at one another.
"Just tell me, guys. Please?"
"Tell her."
Three sets of eyes widened and I turned to see my lover, very much awake and looking back at me.
"Ice?"
She smiled slightly, though her lips were dry and cracked and I could tell the effort pained her. "Hey." She reached up with her free arm and gently brushed the bangs from my head. "You don’t look so good," she observed, her voice hoarse from disuse and the most beautiful sound that I believe I’ve ever heard, bar none.
Taking her hand gently, I kissed her knuckles, then cupped it against my cheek. "Maybe not, but I feel wonderful. Now. How about you, sweetheart?"
Her eyes closed for a moment as she appeared to take inventory. Then they reopened, warming me with the love in her gaze. "Not bad."
"Said the road pizza to the eighteen-wheeler," Bull joked, glass of water in hand.
No one in the room was more surprised than I when Ice allowed me to help her up to a half seated position against some pillows Tom shoved against the backboard. Of course, helping her to drink was out of the question. Accepting the water, she gingerly sipped through bruised and swollen lips until the glass was empty. "Thanks."
Handing back the glass, she then reclaimed my hand and urged me to sit beside her, resting up against the headboard. I complied with alacrity, grinning so broadly I was sure my face would fracture.
After I was settled comfortably, she turned her stare back to Tom and John, one eyebrow raised.
Both looked decidedly uncomfortable, but finally Tom stepped figuratively forward. "We . . .um . . .were wondering how to go about getting rid of the evidence. At first we figured we’d just stuff the bodies back in the car and set fire to the whole thing, but Pop said that we might just wind up setting the whole damn forest on fire and drawing more attention than we wanted to the whole thing."
Beside me, I could feel Ice nod her approval.
"So," John picked up the tale, "we just went with what we had and decided to make it look like a car accident/murder/suicide."
Ice snorted.
"Wanna explain that one?" I asked, perplexed.
"Well, all the pieces were there. The car accident was obvious. As was the scene of the fight. So, all we had to do is take the gun Ice had, wipe her fingerprints, put it in the guy’s hand who had that shot to the temple and presto! Car slams into a tree, guy gets out of the car, beats the crap outta the other guys, shoots em in the head, then ends his own life with a bullet to the temple."
"We even wiped Morgan’s trail away," Tom added, grinning proudly. I swore to myself that if the man had been born with a tail, it would have been briskly wagging. "Even Pop was impressed, and you know how hard that is to do."
"That makes two of us," Ice said, her voice warm, though still a bit hoarse. "Good job. Thank you both very much," she added.
Twin blushes brightened the faces of our friends as both shuffled their feet on the hardwood flooring, neither apparently sure of what to say to such a compliment.
Fortunately for them, they didn’t need to come up with a response, because Ice fell back to sleep, slumping against me as she did so. I had a brief moment of panic, but the calmness in Bull’s eyes relaxed me and together, we helped get her back into a more comfortable position on the bed.
That task completed, I looked back at Tom and John. "Is there something else?"
"Um, yeah," Tom said finally. "Rumor has it that those guys were in town for a couple days before they came calling. Seems that our good friend Millicent put em up for the weekend. Pop thinks that she even gave ‘em directions to the cabin."
I vaulted off the bed so fast, my head spun from the abrupt change in position. "What did you say?" I demanded, grabbing Tom’s huge arm. "You mean that bitch is behind this whole thing? Is that what you’re telling me??"
"Calm down, Angel," Tom said, gently prying my fingers off his arm. "Right now it’s nothing more than a rumor. No one knows for sure yet one way or the other."
"And how did this ‘rumor’ start?" I asked, fists clenched.
"Mary was fixing something over at the Silver Pine and she heard Millicent talking to some on the phone about the six charming men she put up for the weekend."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Angel . . . ."
"What!?" I demanded, whirling around before I realized just who I was yelling at. "Ice? Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up."
"s alright," she said softly. "C’mere."
"But . . . ."
"C’mon," she beckoned, holding her arm out.
Unable to resist, I went to her, climbing back onto the bed and sliding into her tender embrace, taking care not to jostle her healing wounds. Giving me a little smile, she kissed my cheek, then settled me close before turning her head to look at Tom. "What does Pop say about all this?"
"He thinks she did it, but he doesn’t think she knew exactly what she was doing. Or who the men were."
"That’s no excuse!" I said. "She had no right to give complete strangers directions to our home! None at all!"
"It was stupid, I’ll agree," Tom replied. "But being stupid isn’t the same thing as deliberately setting someone up to be kidnapped and murdered, Tyler."
"This is Millicent we’re talking about!" I countered. "The one who got someone to beat the crap out of Pop? The one who paid someone to firebomb his station? Am I the only one who sees this woman for who she really is?"
"Alright, Angel, that’s enough," Ice said softly from beside me.
"Ice, it’s not . . . ."
"Enough, Angel. This isn’t getting us anywhere."
I sighed, not willing to give up the fight, but realizing that there really wasn’t any point in continuing. "When will somebody finally stand up to her?" I asked after a long moment. "Every time she’s done something wrong, we’ve just turned the other cheek. And every time, she’s just gone ahead and done something worse. What about next time, Ice? What if next time, it’s . . . ."
I stopped there, but I knew she could read my thoughts on the matter. My biggest fear was that one night, our sleep would be shattered by the arrival of the police. That scenario was never far from my thoughts, and continued to haunt my dreams.
As if sensing our conversation’s deeper meanings, Tom cleared his throat, nudged his brother and together they grabbed an oblivious Bull and left the room. "We’ll…um…be outside for awhile," Tom said as they descended the stairs and moved quickly away.
When we were alone, I turned back to Ice and laid a hand on her bruised cheek. "I’m sorry," I whispered. "I hate feeling helpless."
The soft skin of her face crinkled beneath my palm as one corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. "s alright. I know this has been hard on you."
I gazed back at her, my expression serious. "Not on me, Ice. On us. You and me." Pulling away slightly, I surveyed her from head to toe, tears filling my eyes. "Look at you, love. You’ve been beaten up, shot, almost sliced apart. You could have been killed."
"But I wasn’t, Angel," she said simply. "I’m here and I’m alive."
"But for how long?"
A sob caught in my throat and I felt myself crumpling. Strong arms enfolded me, holding me close as a soft voice and tender hands soothed me. "Shhh. Don’t cry,
Angel. Please don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise. Everything’s gonna be alright. Shhh."
I accepted her comfort, her love, for a long, much needed moment before attempting to pull away. When she wouldn’t let me, I lifted my head. "I’m supposed to be comforting you. You’re the one who went through hell and back. Not me."
She laughed softly. "Something tells me you went through a little bit of hell yourself, Angel." Reaching up, she tenderly cupped my chin, running her thumb over my lips. Though she was looking right at me, her eyes appeared far away. After several moments, she spoke. "After it was over, after I’d killed Carmine and his friends, the only thing that kept me from collapsing in that field was you, my Angel. Your smile. Your laugh. The sound of your voice when we make love. I needed to get back to you, needed to get back to the one good thing in this world that I know. Your light. Your warmth. Your love." Her hand trailed down over my face and neck to nestle against my breast, beneath which my heart beat strongly. "You."
Her eyes regained their focus and drilled into mine. "You say you’re supposed to be comforting me. Don’t you know you do that every day?"
I looked at her blankly for a moment, unable to fully process her words and their meaning.
Her face softened into a smile. "You do, Angel. Every day, without even thinking about it, just by being the person you are." Her voice became husky. "The woman I love."
Slipping her hand around the curve of the base of my skull, she used her implacable strength to easily draw us together, claiming my lips in a kiss filled with fire and passion and promise. I responded instantly, urgently, needing desperately to show her what she meant to me, this woman of fire and fury and boundless love.
Lost in the sensations of dizzying passion, my hands moved of their own accord, not even feeling the bandages which covered her many wounds. A soft grunt brought me back to reality quickly and I jerked my hand away from her belly as if scalded. "Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t . . . ."
"Shhh," she replied, pulling me close once again. "It’s alright. I’m alright."
"You’re hurt."
She captured me effortlessly in the power of her burning gaze. "I need you."
