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Repeat

Page 21

by Scott, Kylie


  Gordy gives me a nice sloppy kiss on the cheek.

  “I love you too. Yes, I do.”

  In fact, I’m so busy focusing on the puppy love and catching my breath, I don’t even hear the door reopen. Miss the light tread coming down the front steps.

  “Hey, Clem.”

  I fall back on my ass, I’m so startled. “Shannon. Hey.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” I shake my head, trying to clear it. “Just got paid a visit by our neighbor, who was particularly rapey tonight.”

  “What?” Her brows rise. She wanders closer, hands behind her, tucked into her back jeans pocket or something. At least she had the sense to get dressed to come out here.

  “Ugh. It’s nothing. But if you ever meet a guy named Tim, avoid him.”

  “Will do.”

  “What are you doing awake?” I ask, continuing to give Gordy pats.

  “I could ask you the same thing. Leif is out, but . . . I don’t know . . . just couldn’t sleep.” She smiles. “Did you have a good time tonight? That was really great of Ed getting everyone together. Even Tessa seemed to be in a good mood.”

  “It was wonderful of him, and Tessa’s not so bad. She’s more bark than bite.”

  “Hmm.” Shannon does not look convinced. “Well, I think it’s very brave of you, not freaking out your boyfriend working with his ex in such close quarters. Not sure I’d be as understanding if it was Leif.”

  I pause.

  “Can’t be easy when the woman looks like a Victoria’s Secret model. No one would blame you for having your doubts. Especially since her and Nevin seem to be having some issues lately.” She tucks her hair behind an ear. “I shouldn’t be saying anything, but—”

  “No. I trust Ed.”

  For a moment, she just watches me, face blank. “You told me, last time.”

  “What?”

  “About Ed and Tessa. How you knew. What you’d found.”

  What I’d found. With those three little words, my heart stops. And suddenly, everything feels wrong somehow. Me. Shannon. Gordy. The silent street. The laughably weak streetlight. Terribly, unutterably wrong. And the strangest certainty comes over me that Shannon didn’t just wander out here on a whim. She pulled on those jeans, and laced up those boots, and came out here deliberately. To tell me this.

  I rise to my feet, dusting off my behind, taking a step back. Trying to act calm and casual. “I told you?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything, seeing you seem so happy. But I figured you had a right to know.”

  “No.”

  “What?” She seems surprised at the firmness in my voice. Maybe I surprised myself.

  “No, I don’t want to know.”

  “How can you not want to know?” She frowns, her face shrouded in shadow. “You found Tessa’s—”

  “Because I trust him,” I snap, refusing to hear her words. To fall into the trap of jealousy. “And because I’m not going to repeat the worst mistake of my life all over again. No way. No fucking way.”

  For a moment she studies my face. Then she nods slowly. “Okay. If that’s your final decision.”

  “It is.” Relief floods through me, and for a moment I’m glad that Shannon came out to speak to me at this ridiculous hour. Glad? Hell, I’m almost elated. Because I feel like I finally got the opportunity to put that past disaster to bed. To rise above it. “We, ah, we should get back inside. Ed will be wondering where I got to.”

  There’s the sound of Gordon growling and that’s it. She moves so fast. There’s only pain. So much exquisite terrible pain. I gasp, grabbing hold of her arm for balance more than anything. Unable to withdraw the knife from my gut, she shoves me back instead. Now Gordon is snarling. Shannon kicks out at him, again and again. I guess one of her kicks land because he whines and retreats.

  “Fucking mutt,” she hisses, putting her hand to her foot. I guess Gordy got a bite in. What a good dog.

  “You.”

  “Of course it’s me.” She rolls her eyes, actually looking to heaven. It’s kind of insulting. Her pretty mouth is skewed in an ugly manner. “You’re so fucking stupid. You could never deserve him.”

  It’s about Ed. Of course it’s about Ed. Jesus fucking Christ, my love life.

  So I lie on the ground, just trying to breathe, to stay alive. All of my torso is warm and wet, blood soaking into my pajamas. My hands cover the knife’s handle, too scared to move. Actually, I feel cold. Distinctly chilled. Maybe I’m going into shock. That would make sense. Wonder how much blood you have to lose before you pass out?

  If Gordy was pissed before, now he’s full on rampaging. Loud barking fills the air, echoing off the apartment buildings, reverberating down the street. The very good dog is outraged and in a frenzy.

  Standing over me, Shannon glares at him. It’s like she’s a complete stranger with the manic light in her eyes and twisted expression. Above her the branches of the dogwood stretch out, covered in pretty blossoms. Then there’s the dark night sky, the stars, and the moon. A car glides by, but we’re in the shadows. Hidden in plain sight. In fact, there’s a whole city, a whole universe all around us going about its business. And I have the worst feeling I’m going to die here.

  “Give me that,” she says, reaching for the knife.

  “Don’t you fucking touch my dog.”

  “Shut up, you useless bitch.”

  “No.”

  For all my bravado, there’s only so much you can do with a knife sticking out of your belly. I kick at her, slap at her hands. All of the movement jostles the blade and pain shoots through me. Then her foot connects with my side again and again. Something cracks. A rib, maybe. Pretty sure she put on steel cap boots for the occasion. The woman plans ahead. The knife is ripped out with all the delicacy it was first inserted. So none. All the while, Gordy growls and barks.

  I roll away from her, as best I can, not sure if her next move will be to finish off me or the dog. My hands cover the wound, blood seeping up and over my fingers. God, there’s so much of it. And all the while, darkness edges in, taking my vision, my body, everything. No repeat this time. No second chances.

  “Gordy,” I say, voice weak. “Go. Run.”

  Then Gordy makes a noise I’d never hoped to hear. A whimpered sort of howl. But past this, there’s suddenly yelling. Voices. I can’t tell who. Someone is screaming. An enraged, demented, inhuman sort of sound.

  Hands cover my own and he says, “Baby. Stay with me.”

  If this is the last thing, I ever hear, I’m stupidly okay with it. Love. It makes fools of us all.

  Three days later . . .

  I wake up slowly, the white ceiling swimming into focus. It’s the smell, however, that clues me in as to where I am. The sharp, chemical, clinical smell and beeping of machines. Blergh. Back in the fucking hospital. Again. From top to toe, my body feels floaty, distant. Apart from the stretch and pull of the bandages and stitches on my stomach when I move. Not so great.

  Then I remember. “Gordy!”

  Shuffling noises off to the side as Ed bolts upright in his chair. Guess he too had been sleeping. Soon enough, he’s leaning over me, brushing back my hair. “Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay. Calm down, everything’s fine. Gordy’s at home safe and well. He’s just got a couple of stitches in his face, remember? I told you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, you’ve woken up a couple of times before, but you were pretty groggy then too.” His smile is small and tired, but the relief in his eyes is real. “It’s okay. You lost a lot of blood and they’ve got you on the good stuff so you don’t feel any pain.”

  “Oh.” God, my voice sounds so weak and pathetic. “I hate hospitals.”

  “I know. Here, have some water. Just sip it, not too much.” He holds a cup of water with a bent straw up to my lips. My throat is grossly dry and scratchy. Meanwhile, Ed’s clothes are rumpled, dark shadows linger beneath his eyes, and he’s heading into beginner’s beard territory. He looks w
orn out, like he’s been sleeping here for days. “But the doctor said you’re recovering really well. And look at all the flowers you got.”

  The man speaks the truth. Every available surface is covered in blooms. I must have a lot of friends these days, people who care about me. What a fuzzy nice warm feeling.

  “Got to say, though, every time you wake up, you say Gordy’s name first,” he mutters. “Pretty sure you’re just keeping me around because of my dog. You’re not doing my confidence any good here, Clem.”

  I snort. Shit. It kind of hurts. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Sorry.” His gaze lightens. “Frances will be back later; she’s just handling some work stuff. Leif and Tessa and Iris have all been in, though they’re still limiting your visitors at the moment. Can you believe they tried to get me to leave the first day? I told them straight out that wasn’t happening.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  He just smiles.

  “They got Shannon?” It’s all coming back now. The blood, the sheer fucking craziness. “I can’t believe she stabbed me. What a psycho bitch.”

  His eyes go wide. “They got her all right. Well, Leif did.”

  “Leif?”

  “My brother saved the day.” Ed smiles. “When we got out the apartment doors, I went straight to you, didn’t have eyes for anything else. But Leif saw someone running off onto the street. Well, limping quickly, ’cause Gordy got her good, even through her jeans. She made it about a hundred feet before he crash-tackled her to the ground. Fortunately, she’d already tossed the knife away into some bushes. So he was able to hold on to her until the cops showed up, with just a bunch of face-scratching to show for it.”

  “Wow.” I couldn’t get my head around it. All of it. “So Shannon’s in jail? Arrested? Charged?”

  “Aggravated assault, attempted murder, all sorts of things. Detective Chen said they’re still settling on the exact list. But she isn’t going to be seeing the outside of a cell for a very long time.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. Never even fucking suspected it could have been someone that close to us.”

  “Not your fault. It never occurred to me either. What’s the damage to me?”

  “One broken rib and one fractured from her kicking you, internal injuries from the stab wound which they operated on, and a cut on your hand from fighting off the knife.”

  “No wonder I feel vaguely all over like shit.”

  “You want me to call a nurse?”

  “No, just stay with me.” I shake my head ever so slightly. My poor body. Maybe never moving again would be best. It’s weird; my head feels heavy and insubstantial at the same time. Like I might sleep for a hundred years. And as much as I like looking at Ed, my eyelids drift closed. “Is that okay?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

  Three weeks later . . .

  “Oh, I don’t believe this shit.”

  “What?” he asks.

  “What sort of monster would put Caraval in the adult fantasy section? It should be shelved in YA. It’s clearly a coming of age story.” I pass the book back to be added to the pile he’s already carrying. And I’m holding it there for just about forever before he grabs it. “Ed, keep up.”

  “How about you slow down?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Seriously, Clem—”

  “Just because some books have grit and sexy times people think they can’t be YA. It’s ridiculous. Such an old-fashioned, out-of-date point of view.”

  A heavy sigh from Iris over behind the counter.

  “Thought you were happy to have me back,” I say.

  “Clementine, my darling, I was delighted until I realized how cranky convalescing has made you.”

  “Rest and recovery apparently doesn’t come easy to some people.” Ed follows along behind me, balancing a tower of books. “We’re very grateful you let her return.”

  Iris snorts. “That’s because she’s been driving you crazy.”

  “That’s true,” the traitor answers in his beautiful deep voice.

  Whatever.

  Iris finishes tidying up the till, bundling up a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. “I suppose I’d be bored silly having to lie around all the time and do nothing.”

  “It’s not like I didn’t read the books you brought over. I read the whole The Others Series by Anne Bishop, and all the rest. But that much recuperating would drive anyone insane.”

  “Some clearly more than others.”

  “And I don’t blame you for the state of the shop, Iris.”

  “What a relief,” she says drily.

  “It’s whoever you let in here while I was away that needs a good kicking. No respect for our shelving system. And I’m not even going to mention what they did to the coffee mug display. How the whole lot hasn’t fallen down yet and smashed is beyond me.” I shuffle along carefully with a hand to my side. Sometimes I’m a bit sore, but no big deal. Broken ribs and stab wounds just take a while to heal. “The Secret Garden in gardening? Are you kidding me?”

  Iris sniffs. “Antonio was just trying to help.”

  “The man should stick to gelato.”

  “Ed, please,” she says. “Can’t you give her a pill or something and make her go to sleep for a while?”

  My boyfriend takes his turn at sighing.

  “You know, you could go to the tattoo parlor,” I say. “I’m perfectly fine here.”

  He stares down at me, nonplussed. Sadly, even this looks good on him. The sharp angles of his face and stern set of his mouth. “Within five minutes of me leaving you’d be doing something stupid like trying to climb a ladder.”

  “I like to think I’m past the jumping counters and tackling people stage of life,” adds Iris. “Even if it’s for their own good.”

  I open my mouth, but Ed gets there first. “Baby, don’t tell me you wouldn’t do it. I’ve seen you checking out those high shelves. If you need something from up there, I’ll be getting it down.”

  “I’m a bit past climbing high ladders as well,” says Iris.

  Like she doesn’t just want to check out his ass and gawk at the muscles in his arms as he reaches for stuff. The woman doesn’t fool me at all. She’s about as demure and frail as me. Which is not. Well, mostly. “You might as well put the books down on the couch, Ed. I’m going to need to sort them. By the way, I find it very hurtful that you don’t trust me.”

  “I trust you just fine, but I also know you.” He sets the books down, then puts his hands on my shoulders, rubbing gently. “And I love you, which is why I’m sticking to your ass until I know you’re okay. Now, you’ve got another hour before I’m taking you home to rest. Okay?”

  It isn’t the first time he’s said it . . . about loving me, not about only letting me work for a couple of hours a day. We actually fought quite heatedly regarding this matter. But it’s still highly thrilling to hear his regular outpourings of affection. Turns out that watching someone almost die is wonderful for making people push past their concerns and confess their true feelings. Though I don’t recommend stabbing yourself just to try and level up your relationship. For one, it hurts. And secondly, the medical bills are a bitch. The ones from the vet for treating the cut to Gordy’s head weren’t much better. Such a heroically good boy, helping to stop psycho Shannon. He’d even been allowed to hang out on the bed with me during the day once I got out of the hospital. Nurse Mike and Doctor Patel were less than delighted to have me back in with new injuries. But apparently such is life.

  While Shannon didn’t have time during the attack to pour out the intricacies of her plan to me, she had shared them in depth with Detective Chen. How she’d oh so cunningly fed me a torrent of lies regarding Ed and Tessa spending alone time together in the back room and after hours. Right up to her secreting a thong in a little used top pocket of his jacket. Of c
ourse, she’d told me she’d seen Tessa slip it in there herself while Ed had the coat on. Guess previous me packed her bags and left rather than confronting him with the evidence. Highly doubtful I’d have listened to anything he had to say in his defense at that point, anyway. Shannon completely messed with my head, and this was even before the bludgeoning with a bottle. It’s amazing how insecurities can tear us apart.

  Apparently Ed wasn’t getting over the breakup and responding to her attempts at seduction as well as Shannon had hoped, and that’s when she lost it and attacked me the first time. Just to make sure I was out of his life for good. Turns out she has a history of fixating and stalking we knew nothing about. Leif feels awful, for inviting her into our home, for sleeping with her. But I think she would have devised a means to be there one way or another.

  She’d been hoping to blame my death in the front yard on my mysterious unknown attacker, obviously. What with the dark and lonely street, and Ed and Leif being fast asleep inside, it might have worked. But Gordy’s barking put an end to that, bringing the brothers Larsen to the rescue. Hard not to believe DNA evidence or something wouldn’t have given her away. But then, Shannon obviously has some issues with reality. Apparently after my untimely demise, Ed having seen what wonderful girlfriend material she made, care of her display with Leif, would have somehow fallen into her arms during his grief. Can’t really imagine Ed taking up with his brother’s ex, but whatever.

  Gordy and his mighty bark saved the day. Or the night, rather. Leaving me with another scar and another chance to get things right. A chance that I am not going to mess up. Love and life sure can be scary. But not living your best life, not loving as hard as you can . . . what a terrible waste that would be. And the man standing in front of me is the best of everything.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks, gaze warm, loving.

 

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