by Lane Hart
I perk up at the mention of leaving here and actually getting to be with Mandy. It’s almost over for now. The rest…the year of movies, I can deal with all that later. My thoughts instantly go to Linc, wondering if he’s looking for me, and how he’ll feel about what Vito wants me to do. He won’t like it, but it’s not like I have a choice, at least not until I get out of here and maybe can figure out some way out of the deal with this devil.
When Vito starts taking off his shirt and then his pants, reality slams back into me, making my stomach roll. “Easy way?” he asks as he pulls the covers back, exposing me lying naked, hair still dripping wet from the shower. I’m so cold my body curls up in the fetal position. Seeing him naked, ugh, it’s like a big cup of disgusting coffee.
“I’ll agree! I’ll sign whatever you want, I swear. Right now! Please!” I sit up and tell him, tugging the covers back over me.
“Wonderful,” he says with an actual smile…or at least I guess it is. “Afterwards. Now, the easy way or hard way?”
I don’t respond. I can’t. What is there to say? Either option ends the same.
“Just so we’re clear, the hard way would be having James help me and then letting him have you.”
I force myself up on shaky limbs to roll over so that I don’t have to look at him, standing beside the bed with not a shred of clothing on. He’s disgusting, and the idea of him touching me makes me sick on my empty stomach. But the idea of him and James…oh God. I dry heave into the mattress, glad there’s nothing in my stomach.
The bed dips as he gets in and lifts the covers. My knees are tucked against my chest when his body presses against my back. He brushes the hair from my neck and I heave again when his mouth touches my flesh. His palm strokes down my arm, over my leg and comes back up.
“My wife was a beautiful woman,” he starts telling me for some unknown, creepy-ass reason while tears run down my face. “Young and curvy like you. It’s a shame I caught her in bed with my own brother and had to put a bullet in both of their heads. Maybe I overreacted, but by then it was too late.”
Oh God. Why is he telling me this? To scare me? I was already terrified of him before, but now…
“You will do what we agreed, and if not, I’ll take out your sister. Then your brother. Then the fighter if I have to.”
His palm moves down and cups my ass right as the door explodes, the sudden splintering wood incredibly loud in the quiet room. I clutch the sheet to me as I sit up.
A big man dressed in all black with a huge gun is aiming at Vito as he scrambles out of the bed. “Put your hands up now; and if you so much as twitch, I will pull the trigger,” the man threatens in a deep authoritative voice. “Just ask the three assholes lying in pools of their own blood out front.”
Oh please God let him be a cop. I examine him again and hiccup a sob when I see the shiny badge clipped to his belt. “Cooper!” the man yells. “Found her…and him. Cuffs, now!”
A younger man with shaggy, dirty blond hair steps cautiously into the room with a gun out and at the ready. His eyes move quickly over me and then to Vito before he holsters the gun on his hip and approaches the older man. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” the new guy orders. “And ew, I really wish you had clothes on.” Vito follows his directive, and a sigh of relief escapes me when I hear the click of metal locking around his wrists.
The first cop, the big one, approaches me with palms up. “Are you okay? You’re Claire, right?” he asks softly. I nod in the affirmative, unable to speak. “You were here against your will?” I nod again, my body shivers so badly my teeth chatter. “Your boyfriend and brother have been frantically looking for you. I’ll call and tell them to meet us at the hospital.”
I lose the last thread of sanity and break down at the mention of Linc and Mason.
“Shh. It’s okay now,” the cop says. He drapes more covers around me, and I’m immediately thankful for the added warmth. The tension in my body even starts to gradually relax knowing it’s all over, but I’m not sure if the tears will ever dry up. “I’m sorry it took us so long. Fucking bureaucratic red tape bullshit procedures,” he grumbles. “Coop, call for an ambulance. We’ll need four, but she goes first no matter what.”
That’s the last thing I hear him say before I blackout.
…
Linc
I stand up and stretch my back, still unwillin’ to let Claire’s hand go. She’s been in the same, unconscious state since they brought her into the emergency room at Duke seven hours ago. Once she was examined, they admitted her for observation. I barely resist shakin’ her fragile body covered by the thin hospital gown and beg her to wake up. I need to know she’s okay, even if the doctor’s assured us she seems physically fine. My chest aches knowin’ that when she does finally open her eyes, I’m gonna have to break her heart. Moisture clouds my vision because it’s all my fault for losin’ my temper on that asshole, and Claire and Mandy had to pay the consequences. I have no idea what happened to Claire over the twenty hours she was gone, and I’m not sure if I can handle the answer.
“Where-where am I?” she softly asks. I wipe my face and glance up, thinkin’ I imagined the sound of her voice, but her light blue eyes are blinkin’ heavily as she searches the room.
“Hey, baby, I’m so glad you’re awake. I’ll send Mace a message to get him up here,” I assure her, not letting go of her hand to pull out my phone and send him a text with shaky fingers. “You’re in the hospital. He went downstairs for a smoke and should be back any second.”
“Said he quit.” She sighs. “So did Mandy. Is she here? Can I see her?” she asks, tryin’ to sit up.
“Whoa,” I stop her with a hand on her shoulder. “You need to take it easy.”
“I feel fine,” she says. “I don’t need to be in here.”
“The doctors think you need to be here,” I tell her. “You’ve been through hell, baby.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she replies, but I know she’s lyin’ when her eyes lower. “I was just exhausted. Is Mandy awake? Do they still have her in ICU?”
“No,” I say quietly with a shake of my head.
“No, she’s not awake or no, she’s not in ICU?” she asks.
“I’m so sorry, Claire,” I start, and then pussy out. Unable to find the words, I delay them. “She’s not awake and she’s not in ICU.”
“Then where is she? A regular room? So she’s better? He said she'd start improving...”
“Tell her, Linc,” Mace mutters when he appears in the doorway. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”
Lookin’ at Claire…I know what I’m waitin’ for. I want to memorize every inch of her face. God, why didn’t I take more pictures of her? I’m regrettin’ that oversight now that I know this is probably the last time I’ll ever see her.
“Tell her!” Mace yells, makin’ Claire jump at his tone and volume, and snappin’ the last thread of control I had on my emotions. Hearin’ his pain…I hate puttin’ that burden on her, too.
"Mason, what's wrong?" Claire asks.
“I’m so…so sorry, baby,” I start. “Her heart stopped so many times…they couldn’t revive her.”
“No,” she says, shakin’ her head and coverin’ her mouth when a sob escapes. All I want is to pull her into my arms and hold her, but when she jerks her hand from mine I know what’s comin’. At least Mace is here now to take care of her.
“Claire –” I start.
Palms still shielding her face, she shakes her head. Mace yanks me up with two fistfuls of my shirt and propels me toward the door.
“I’m so sick of hearing your goddamn worthless apologies!” he bellows, and then he’s on me. Raisin’ my forearms I try to block the blows. I don’t even think about hittin’ him back in retaliation. He’s upset after losin’ his sister and needs an outlet other than the tears. Besides, I deserve so much worse than a beatin’.
“Mason, stop!” Claire yells at him, at the same time a doctor and
a nurse come in to try and pull Mace off of me. As soon as they do, his entire body sags in defeat. He gives up fightin’ and goes over to the side of the bed, wrappin’ Claire in his arms as they mourn the loss of their sister together. Not only do I feel like I’m intrudin’ on their grievin’, but I’m the one responsible for it.
“Just go,” Claire says between sobs, without sparin’ me a glance. So, with one last look at her, I do as she asks and walk out of her life.
Chapter Twenty
Linc
Three months later…
“Do you think he would’ve been a fighter?”
I smile as I consider Abby’s question. “Maybe,” I say with a squeeze to her hand.
We stand in the graveyard, starin’ at the small granite headstone in silence for a few minutes, both of us imaginin’ all of the million possibilities that never came to be. Abby’s leukemia is thankfully in remission, but she still has to have chemo to make sure they get any remainin’ cancer cells and prevent a relapse.
“I think he would’ve looked like you,” she says. “Blond hair, blue eyes. Probably just like the painting in your living room.”
“Uh-huh,” I agree. Lately I look at that framed picture more than the television.
“How’s your new project going?” she asks. “Leaving Footprints in the Sand, right?”
“Yeah, and it’s great,” I tell her, unable to hide my pride at the success. “Just had the third week with full occupancy. I think we’re gonna need more houses, and soon.”
“I’m really proud of you. This is an incredible thing you’re doing, you know?”
“Someone needed to do it,” I say with a shrug.
The idea had been to give me somethin’ positive to do to take my mind off Claire. The truth is, every second I’ve been workin’ on gettin’ the idea off the ground, organizin’ the travel arrangements and reservations for terminally ill patients to stand with their toes in the sand and see the ocean before leavin’ the Earth, I think of her. She’s the one who gave me the idea to use my beach house for an actual purpose.
“Well,” Abby sighs. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me here. I hate to go so soon, but I better get home before the snow hits. Some of us don’t drive big ole’ four-wheel drive trucks.”
“Yeah, you better. Be careful and text me to let me know when you get home,” I tell her.
“Will do,” she says as she lets my hand go and starts walkin’ back to the parkin’ lot “Oh, and Linc?”
“Yeah?” I ask. When I look back up, Abby’s grinnin’ mischievously as she stands at the wrought iron cemetery gate, her hands shoved in her black pea coat pockets. I wait to see what she’s gonna hit me with. I know she hasn’t exactly given up on the idea of us gettin’ back together, but so far she’s yet to come out and say it. It’s only a matter of time until she thinks my broken heart has had time to heal. I’m not lookin’ forward to the day I have to tell Abby that even if it were possible for me to ever move on, which I have serious doubts about, bein’ friends is the absolute most I can offer her.
“Merry Christmas,” she says, makin’ me sigh in relief that we thankfully won’t have to have that conversation today.
“Merry Christmas,” I repeat, forcin’ a smile on my face that doesn’t last as long as it takes for the gate to swing shut behind her.
Today’s even harder than usual. I feel the loss of not just one future but two. I keep waitin’ for it to get easier, but each day is harder than the one before. The nights seem even lonelier, to the point I considered settin’ fire to my entire house durin’ a more depressin’ episode last week. The stupid, empty structure continuously mocks me. But it’s too beautiful and perfect to burn to the ground. So instead, the next day I hired a realtor and put it up for sale. I’m not sure where I’ll live once I sell it, and I really don’t care.
The sound of leaves rustlin’ and a dog whimperin’ have me turnin’ back to the gate. A flustered woman in a fluffy white coat and colorful scarf is runnin’ circles around one of the thick oak trees that lines the front of the cemetery. She’s chasin’ what looks like a small, young and energetic chocolate Pomeranian.
“Dammit, dog! Please just stop moving for one freaking second!” The muttered curse carries through the chilly air, making me smile in amusement before I head out the gate to try and rescue the poor animal and the owner.
“Hey, you need some help?” I call out with my approach, so that I don’t scare the shit out of her in the otherwise quiet, vacant area.
“Linc?”
I freeze at the sound of my name and the familiar voice that comes from the other side of the tree.
“Claire?”
It can’t be, could it? Why would she be here? Then I remember that Mandy was also buried here. Senn or Nate had suggested it to Mace months ago when he was distraught and tryin’ to make the arrangements. Havoc even paid all the funeral and burial costs.
My heart races in excitement knowin’ I’m about to see the woman I love so much she haunts my days and nights. The overwhelmin’ happiness is quickly snuffed out by guilt that seems to crush my chest. I can’t resist the opportunity though, even if it’s only for a few seconds before she asks me to leave. Like the seconds I sometimes see her walkin’ in and out of work or headin’ to the art studio when I stalk her. I tell myself I just want to make sure she’s okay, and that Vito’s men are leavin’ her alone now that he’s locked away. At least James is dead after takin’ two bullets from Detective Fury, and the assault charge against me was dismissed. Bobby is still unfortunately alive, even though he was in the hospital for weeks before they moved him to the jail. Both he and Vito have been charged with everything from kidnapping to attempted rape.
The word "attempted" was only a small relief, since I knew Claire had still been through hell with whatever it was that they did to her. Part of me doesn't want to know the truth, because I'm not sure how much more guilt and pain I can take knowin’ she suffered because of me. I'm sure she never wants to see me again. I'm nothin’ but a reminder of what happened to her and her sister. The police haven't been able to prove Vito was involved in Mandy's death, only that James was with her when she overdosed. Since he's no longer alive to pay for what he did, it doesn't look like Vito will, either.
I can't imagine how hard losin’ Mandy has been on Claire and Mace. Of course I see him practically every day at Havoc, or at least the ones I drag myself in to train a few hours, but the two of us never speak a word to each other. Seein’ him only makes me think of Claire, and miss her even more. Despite how hard I've tried, I can’t stay away from her. I have to see her at least once every few days, even if it's only for a few seconds, just to make sure she's okay. The glimpses grow more painful every week, because I keep expectin’ to see her with someone else. It's only a matter of time; and when it happens, it'll be like losin’ her all over again.
Stepping forward, I pick up the puppy that’s only a few months old, and unfasten the leash from its collar. “There,” I say to her, leavin’ the leash around the tree. “Now you can just unwind it.”
“Thanks,” she exhales a heavy breath. Once the cord is free, she steps around the trunk of the tree, finally comin’ face to face with me for the first time in months. The two of us stare silently at each other, my eyes soakin’ her in for as long as she’ll let me. Up close, she’s even more gorgeous than I remember with the wind whippin’ her chestnut hair in front of her beautiful, sad face, probably my brain’s attempt to make missin’ her a little easier. When I hear panting, I’m not sure if it’s me or the dog.
“What…what are you doing here?” she finally asks.
“Well, um, this is where Thomas Lincoln Abrams was buried six years ago today.”
“Oh, wow, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t know you would be here,” I tell her, so she doesn’t think I’m stalkin’ her. Even though I am stalkin’ her, just not at this particular moment. What a fuckin’ coincidence that the two of us would both end up her
e at the same time on the same day. Or maybe not. “Did anyone else know you were comin’ by today?” I ask.
“Ah, just Mason,” she says as she looks around for him. “He said he’d meet me at four, but he’s late.”
“We’ve been set up,” I tell her. “Because Abby also told me to meet her at four. She just left.”
“Oh,” Claire says with a blink of surprise.
“So this is your dog?” I ask, lookin’ for somethin’ to say as I scratch the top of its head.
“Uh-huh. She’s a bit of a handful, but sweet and a good guard dog. She never fails to alert me when any squirrels, birds, or neighborhood cats get too close to the apartment.”
“She’s cute.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“How have you been?” I can’t help but ask the question screamin’ in my mind.
“I-I…was just wondering the same about you,” she says, glancin’ away and dodgin’ the question.
“I’m really fuckin’ miserable,” I tell her honestly. “Maybe I should get a dog.”
“Me, too,” she replies with a sniffle, and I watch as her eyes start to water. I'm such an asshole, because however heartbroken I feel losin’ her, it's nothin’ compared to her loss of a sister. “Why did you leave me?” Claire asks.
“Leave you?” I exclaim in response to her sudden and unexpected question. “Like I had a choice?”
“You walked away when I needed you the most,” she says through her tears. My already hollow chest somehow empties a little more after hearin’ those words.
“I thought you hated me for what happened. I hated myself for hurtin’ you and Mace. How could you ever possibly forgive me?”
“I hated you because you left without so much as an explanation or a goodbye. You were just gone…and she…she was gone-” When her tears turn to sobs, I pull her against my chest with my dog-free arm and hold her like I’ve wanted to do for months, prayin’ she won't push me away. The incredible smell of her, the fresh oranges, hits me like a brick wall. The puppy under my other arm whines seein’ Claire upset and gives her hair a lick.
