Authors: Gina Ardito
Her eyes veered back to him, but only for a brief moment
before she studied the sheets again. Still, it was long enough for him to
notice the hot pink circles in her cheeks.
“No, why?”
“You were moaning a lot in your sleep. I thought maybe the
nurse didn’t give you enough of that sedative.”
Oh, God, Adara thought. She was moaning? A lot? The dream
came back to her now—in full detail. The beautiful valley, the warmth of the
sun on her skin, a lover’s hands and mouth caressing, exploring, inviting her
into realms of pleasure. And a kiss. A kiss that ended when she opened her eyes
and found her lips scant inches from the detective’s.
Had she kissed him? In her drug induced stupor, had she
dreamt of a phantom lover and assaulted a real-life cop? Could a kiss be
considered assault? Or would it fall under the heading of sexual harassment?
Fire licked at her cheeks, and she turned her head to stare out the window again
until her embarrassment eased.
“I think she gave me too much,” she admitted, her gaze
locked on a cabin cruiser cutting across the waves. Oh, to be one of those
lucky people out there—sailing a seaworthy craft over the water, not a care in
the world besides which direction the wind blew and the condition of the tides.
“It made for some strange dreams.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She turned to stare at him in surprise and a “No!” erupted
from her lips a little too quickly.
“You sure?” the detective asked, amusement twitching at his
upturned mouth. “My nephew, Tyler, always feels better when he tells me about
his nightmares.”
“How old is Tyler?”
“Five.”
She smirked. “I haven’t been five in a long time.”
“I can see that.”
His eyes raked her figure lying in the bed, and she had to
fight the urge to pull the sheets up over her head and hide from the heat in
his gaze.
He must have perceived her discomfort because he cleared his
throat and said, “Well, it looks like you’re all set here. Officer Stanton is
stationed outside until around midnight. Then another officer will take his
place. You’ll have round the clock protection, Ms. Berros—”
“Adara,” she corrected. No sense in remaining on a formal
basis if she’d already locked lips with him.
“Adara,” he amended. He showed her an oval-shaped plastic
object with a red button on top then tied it around the rail of her bed, next
to the Call Nurse signal. “This is a panic device. It’s sort of like a mute
walkie-talkie. I have the companion piece right here.” He pulled a similar
object from his pocket. “If anything frightens you or if Ted should telephone,
press the red button. Whoever is on duty will be inside your room immediately.
“Don’t worry about anyone unauthorized getting in here.
You’re under an assumed name, and absolutely no one but the medical staff and
the police will be allowed into your room for the duration of your hospital
stay.”
Hey, now, this was something she hadn’t planned on.
“Not even visitors I want to see, like my friends or
coworkers?”
“No one. No one is to know you’re here. Ted has an awful lot
of information on you, and we have no clue how or where he learned any of it.
Your closest friends could be providing tidbits of gossip to him without
realizing who he is.” He chewed on his lip. “I’m sorry. It’s inconvenient, but
it’s the only way I know to keep you safe.”
“Are you sure all of this is necessary, Detective?”
“Shane,” he told her, and she nodded. “Answer this question
for me. Do you intend to testify in the second trial?”
“You’d better believe it.” She folded her arms over her
chest, hugging herself to ward off the rack of chills that always accompanied
thoughts of facing down Benjamin Cherry in court. “That cold bastard killed
Terry. And I won’t rest until he pays for what he did. He’s going away for a
long time if I have anything to say about it. And this time, there’ll be no
loophole to let him out again.”
One eyebrow rose as he glanced at her with approval. “You’ve
got guts, Adara.”
The chills started in earnest now, and her teeth chattered.
“It’s not guts—just guilt.” She couldn’t face Shane’s sincere gaze, and she
concentrated on the black print on the hem of her sheet. But the letters may as
well have been written in Japanese. They couldn’t permeate the memories filling
her mind. “It’s my fault Terry’s dead.”
“You didn’t pull the trigger.”
She plucked at the sheet with nervous fingers. “I might as
well have.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It never would have happened if I hadn’t…”
The words choked her throat before she could utter them. She
coughed, and the pressure eased slightly. In a whisper-soft voice, she tried
again.
“Terry and I had been dating for about six months, and I
really didn’t see the relationship going anywhere. About a week before the
incident, he asked me to marry him. I replied by telling him it was over
between us. I didn’t feel that spark of passion I thought a couple should feel
for one another. He took it well at the time, but then asked me to go with him
to a party that weekend.”
“Memorial Day weekend?”
She nodded. “Since the hosts were old friends of mine, I
agreed. I think Terry planned to use the event to convince me to take him back.
But I kept insisting it was over, and by the time we left the party, he must
have worked himself up into a real frenzy. He didn’t show it, though. That
wasn’t his style. He simply told me in this sad little voice that he’d had
enough fun for one evening and he would take me home. It was a long drive, and
I’d been putting in some crazy hours at work all week. I was completely wiped,
so I crawled into the back seat to sleep for a while. That’s when Cherry
sideswiped our car.”
“So, how does that make you responsible?”
“Normally, Terry was probably the most easy-going guy you could
ever come across. I mean, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. But that night, because of
our break-up, he was pretty on edge. That’s why he started chasing Cherry and
flashing his brights at him. If I hadn’t insisted that our relationship was
over, Terry wouldn’t have been so angry. He would have just driven away from
Cherry, filed a police report, then called in a claim to his insurance company.
It’s my fault that he’s dead. And the only way I can atone for that is to make
sure that the man who pulled the trigger spends the rest of his life in
prison.”
Shane shook his head. “It’s an unfortunate set of
circumstances, Adara, but you’re not responsible for what happened to Terry
that night.” His expression grew grim. “Still, if you’re determined to testify,
then I’m going to make sure you get to the courtroom in one piece.”
~~~~
“Good evening, my dearest.”
Adara opened her eyes, but only blackness surrounded her.
Squinting in the darkness, she discerned an outline—not a full silhouette, just
the blurry shadow—of a man seated in the chair by her bed. Ted!
She fumbled for the panic button Shane had given her, but a
mellow golden light filled the room, and she spotted the tiny remote control
device upheld in Ted’s hand.
“You have no need of this contrivance at the moment. I have
not come to harm you, regardless of what your moon-eyed detective says.”
Adara curled into a tight fetal position, hoping to shield
her heart from any bullet. “H-how did you get in here?”
He smiled, and his teeth lit up the room like fireworks in
the night sky. “Doors and police guards cannot keep me from you.” He gestured
toward the door. “Your detective believes I am here to kill you.”
“Are you?”
“I have already told you, darling Adara, I could never harm
you. I live to love you. Do you recall how your body responded to me in your
dream?”
Shocked, she straightened her limbs and sat up to stare at
him. “How did you know about that?”
“Because I was there with you, fair one. At least, I was
there until your detective interfered.” He made a moue with his mouth. “I’ve
never liked to share, you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” she snapped. “I don’t know anything
about you, remember?”
His eyes grew wide, his expression perplexed. “I’ve told you
all there is to know about me, dearest. What else could I possibly tell you?”
“Why you’re really here, for one thing.”
He spoke slowly and patiently, as if instructing a young
child. “I came here to claim you as my bride.”
“Why?”
“Because it was foretold long ago that you and I should be
united.”
She snorted. “You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to
swallow.”
“It is not necessary for you to trust in our future
together. It will transpire whether you believe in it or nay.”
Hoping to buy time, she allowed her gaze to wander around
the bland walls. But as the mellow light grew brighter, her mind registered
amazement. Flowers festooned the room: white and red roses, and flame-colored
butterfly gladioli. The blooms sat in etched crystal vases on every tabletop,
and hung on the walls in garland streams. Silvery rose petals with crimson
edges even covered her bedding.
She glanced back at Ted’s amused face. “You did all this?”
He shrugged. “Who else knows your favorite flowers?”
“N-no one.”
“So then it must have been me, yes?”
“Y-yes. I mean, I suppose so. Why?”
“Because it gives me pleasure to please you. And I live to
please you. Oh, my darling, I cannot wait to make you mine. My tongue thirsts
for the taste of you. I yearn to feel you shiver beneath my touch, to hear you
speak my name in the throes of passion. Tell me truthfully, Adara. Have any of
your lovers told you how your skin glows with the sheen of burnished silver?
Has any man filled you with indescribable joy by his mere presence in your
life? Have you ever been brought to heights of ecstasy so shattering that you
burst into brilliant stars of light?”
“N-no.”
As if agreeing with her, he shook his head. “Even your
Terence never placed your wants and desires above his own. I must admit; I
rejoiced when I learned you had cast him off. He was not meant to be your mate.
The man to whom you pledge your heart must be a fiercer warrior than Odysseus,
equal to your talents. He must have the strength of Hercules and wisdom
imparted by Athena. But above all, he must prove himself by placing your life
above his own.”
While Ted listed his requirements of worthiness, her mind
automatically pictured Shane. He’d shown her strength and wisdom. And he’d
stayed with her when she was afraid. She knew she could place her life in his
hands, and he would risk everything to protect her.
“Do not listen to Detective Griffin, my love,” Ted scolded,
and she blushed to think he knew her thoughts. “
I
am that man, Adara. I
am not the monster he paints me. As a matter of fact, he is the ogre in our
little tete-a-tete. Did he have to move you all the way out here? Especially
when he knew that I exhausted the afternoon trying to find a place to live
which was close to your quarters in that other healing center?”
Resentment rose within her on Shane’s behalf. “He’s trying
to protect me.”
Ted shook his head and smiled sadly. “You are tired,
darling, and not thinking clearly. I shall prove to you that I am sincere.
Sleep. Your injuries will heal while you frolic in Morpheus’s world. Perhaps I
shall join you there again.”
Her lips compressed in a tight line.
“No? Very well. I shall return here tomorrow, and we shall
see what you think then.”
She blinked, and he had disappeared. The room was once again
dark, and the panic button was back in its place around her bed rail.
It was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare…
Chapter Ten
Shane used his old key to let himself into his parents’
house, hoping not to wake his mother. He needn’t have bothered. She sat at the
kitchen table, a mug between her arthritic hands and a tired smile on her
heavily lined face.
“I had a feeling I’d see you tonight. You want something to
eat? I could scramble a coupla eggs.”
“No, thanks. I ate earlier.”
“How about some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“It’s a little late for coffee, isn’t it?”
She glanced at the clock overhead, and his gaze naturally
followed. It read two-twenty a.m. “Actually, it’s a little early for coffee,
which is why I’m drinking decaf. So, do you want some?”
“Why not?” He pulled the captain’s chair out from the table
and sat down, taking a long look at his mother as she rose to fill another mug.
Her hair had turned a steely gray in the last six months or so, and her eyes
sank deep inside her cheeks—evidence of her lack of regular sleep. There was a
permanent hunch to her shoulders she’d never had before. “You know what, Mom?
You sit. I’ll get my own coffee.”
“No, Shane, it’s okay. I appreciate the ‘busy work’ these
days.” She returned to the table, steaming mug in hand. “You look terrible.”
“Funny. I was just going to say the same thing about you.”
Mom sighed as she lowered herself onto the chair again. “I
keep thinking she’s going to come home. I’m afraid to leave the house, afraid
to take a shower. I worry that I’ll miss a phone call from someone saying
they’d made a mistake. That Cassia isn’t dead. That the body we buried belongs
to someone who looked like her.”
“I know.” He reached out and cupped her hand in his. “But we
didn’t bury a look-alike. We buried Cassia. She’s not coming home.”
She nodded, and Shane understood. Didn’t he spend all his
time convincing Tyler of the same thing? The pain was still too raw for any of
them to accept.
“How’s your case?” she asked.
“Complicated.”
“Wanna tell me about it?”
“You know I can’t.” She knew, but that wouldn’t stop her from
trying to wheedle information out of him. He decided to change the subject
before she could continue her interrogation. “How’s Tyler?”