Point of Release

by Remy Landon

  “No worries. It's been a while. I was on my bike and got forced off the road by some idiot coming the other way. Scared the shit out of me, and I didn't ride again for a long while. I was pretty banged up, but I was lucky, compared to the other people.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was a bike in front of me with two people on it. I liked to go fast—that fearless thing again—so I passed them and pulled in front, and right after that, there was this car that came screaming at me from the other direction—right into my lane. Forced me off the road, and did the same to the guy who was a little ways behind me. I was able to escape with some bumps and bruises, and this scar from catching my leg underneath the bike, but the guy was knocked out, and the woman was killed—I saw on the news she was his wife.”

  Cassandra slumped back on her heels, her mouth dry and the blood pounding in her ears. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Where was this?”

  “Lititz, when I used to live here.”

  “And when?”

  “It happened in October, so almost three and a half years ago.” Josh shifted the ice pack slightly, grimacing. “I always felt guilty because I left the scene, like a coward. But I was driving with a suspended license, so I didn't want to get caught when the police showed up. I got my bike upright and took off out of there. Called 911 and said I'd driven by the accident. I never got the license number of the car that caused it. I'm always going to wish I did more, and I'm always going to feel guilty for leaving. Shit, I guess I've grown up some over the past three years.” He shrugged, smiling apologetically. “Don't know why I'm telling you all this. I usually keep stuff to myself.”

  She nodded as she stood up slowly. Her mind was pulled in another direction, the voices of Carlo and Gianna echoing in her head.

  I lost someone I loved very much. It was my fault.

  He doesn't remember what happened, but he believes he was going too fast and lost control of the bike.

  It was my fault.

  “Cassandra—everything okay? You look like you're a million miles away.”

  She came back into the moment, forcing herself to smile. “Sorry. Do you want to have your ankle looked at? I can drive you to walk-in care or something.”

  “I'm pretty sure it's just a sprain. Ice and elevation for now, and I'll see how it goes. But thanks for the offer.”

  “At least let me drive you home. You can leave your car here for now.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess I won't be of much use here.”

  “And if you haven't done your stalls yet, I'll do them.”

  His blue eyes were full of gratitude. “I really appreciate it. I'll owe you.” He winked. “Whatever it is you want.”

  Smiling, she got to her feet and prepared to help him up. Josh didn't know it, but he'd already given her something significant. And very soon, she would be passing it along to Carlo.

  chapter thirty-nine ~ Carlo

  When he saw the tan Chevy Malibu in the parking lot, his first thought was that Cassandra had changed her mind about his offer to protect her. This was quickly followed by another more disturbing thought that something was wrong. He walked briskly to her car, finding Cassandra huddled in the driver's seat with her arms wrapped around herself.

  She looked up at him, her face brightening, and unrolled her window.

  “Cassandra, what are you doing here? What's wrong?”

  “Nothing's wrong,” she said, shivering.

  “Why are you sitting in a cold car? Do you not have heat?”

  “I do have heat, but some of us don't want to waste the gas to run the car.”

  “You could have come into the building.”

  “Not in my barn clothes, I couldn't. Can I talk to you?”

  “Of course. Would you like to go somewhere?”

  “No. My car's fine, if that's all right with you.” She seemed eager, almost antsy, her cheeks colored pink and her eyes holding sparks of anticipation. With her hair pulled up in a casual ponytail, she looked girlish and charming, and he found himself again, for the thousandth time, totally and utterly captivated.

  He walked around to the passenger door and tried the handle, raising his eyebrow when he discovered it locked. Smiling, Cassandra clicked the button on her arm rest and unlocked the door. As he opened it, she told him with mock innocence, “You can never be too careful.”

  Folding himself into the small vehicle, he nodded. “You're right. I'm glad to see you're taking these types of precautions. You're sure you don't want to go anywhere to talk? A hotel room...my bedroom, perhaps?”

  She raised her chin, her lips twitching. “Nice try.” Her expression turned serious. “Carlo. I came to tell you something.” Searching his eyes with hers, she spoke slowly. “I know about the accident—and what happened to your...your wife.”

  The words fell like dull, heavy stones. “How...?”

  “Your sister loves you very much.”

  “Ah.” Gianna, his dolce sorellina. He would forgive her, of course, but he wished she had asked him first if he wanted her to talk to Cassandra. And he would have said no. Which was precisely why Gianna hadn't asked.

  “She wanted me to know what you'd been through, so I could have that information before I made any...decisions.”

  “And have you? Made any decisions?”

  “Not yet,” she murmured. She was not able to look at him. “But I'm glad she told me. Not only because it helps me to understand you better, but because I wouldn't have been able to tell you what I'm about to tell you.”

  “What are you talking about, Cassandra?”

  “It wasn't your fault,” she said breathlessly. “The accident. It wasn't your fault.”

  She was so earnest, wanting him to believe this. Gianna, his mother, his stepfather—they had all said the same thing. His wife's parents had even said it as well. It wasn't your fault. But he was responsible. He had lost control.

  “Cassandra, I appreciate that you're trying to make me feel better, but this is something I know I have to live with.”

  “Carlo—you don't understand. I have information to share with you.”

  His mouth opened slightly.

  “I heard something today from Josh, the stablehand at Windswept—the one at Bull Feeney's. He was talking about an accident a few years ago in the fall, saying that he was on a motorcycle and he passed another bike...”

  The other motorcycle...the man, helmet-less, had nodded as he had passed them.Carlo's face tightened as he remembered.

  “...and then another car apparently came towards him, going fast, and it forced him—and then you—off the road. Gianna said you couldn't remember what had happened, but Josh does. I asked him some more questions about it while I was giving him a ride home. He said the person didn't even brake, just came into the other lane and then continued on after forcing you off the road.”

  There had been no tire marks. The police had had trouble reconstructing the accident since Carlo had been knocked unconscious and could not remember much.

  “It wasn't your fault, Carlo.” She reached out and laid a cool hand on top of his. “You can stop punishing yourself for it.”

  Her face looked so earnest, pleading, as though she wanted him to instantly rid himself of all his pain and misery. It would not be that simple, since he had carried this for so long.

  “I don't know what to say right now, except thank you for telling me this.”

  “I'm not the one responsible, really. It's Gianna you can thank—if she hadn't told me about the accident, I wouldn't have connected it to what I heard from Josh.”

  “My little sister is always looking out for me, and I do the same for her. Which is why I have kept something from her about the accident. I've never told anyone this. There was another life lost that night.”

  Cassandra's eyes widened in alarm.

  “My wife—Lauren—and I were driving to dinner to celebrate...because we had just found out some exciting news.” He felt his
throat close, but he forced himself to speak. “We had just found out she was pregnant.”

  A long, slow exhale from Cassandra as her eyes welled up with tears.

  “She said it would be her last motorcycle ride, until after the baby was born. I never should have agreed to it.”

  “Carlo...” Cassandra's voice was hushed. “You couldn't have known this would happen.”

  “I could have said no to her riding the bike.”

  “You can't control people, though, Carlo. She was an adult. She had her own mind, made her own choices...” She put her hand on his again, squeezing gently. “You can't blame yourself for what happened. Not anymore, when you know the cause of the accident.”

  He looked deeply into her sea-colored eyes, feeling as though he could drown in their depths. Her lips were parted; her breath coming in quick, hard exhales, and then a choked cry—“I am so sorry, Carlo!”—as she flung her arms around him, putting her soft cheek to his, and God...the dizzying nearness of her...

  Before he could react, she pulled away, sitting back down in the driver's seat and smoothing back her hair, looking lost and bewildered. Cassandra, he wanted to say, stay with me. Please.

  She leaned back against the car door with her arms crossed over her chest as she began to breathe more rhythmically. “Do you want to talk to Josh about the accident? I haven't told him anything about your involvement.”

  Carlo shook his head. “I don't see the point. I'd rather leave it alone.”

  “All right.” She brought her gaze up to meet his. “I think,” she said slowly, carefully, “that we both should sit with all of this for a while.”

  He nodded, his hand on the door handle. “Yes.” The desire to hold her felt so strong that he was physically aching. “Thank you again, Cassandra.”

  With what she had told him, she had in essence given him part of his life back, but watching her drive away, he felt he had lost it again.

  It wasn't your fault.

  He heard the words in his head and said them silently to himself, hoping that one day, he could believe it...perhaps get his life back. And realizing, as he watched Cassandra drive away, that getting his life back also meant having her in it.

  chapter forty ~ Cassandra

  “Are you sure you don't mind doing my last couple of stalls today?” Cassandra leaned against the railing of the indoor ring, watching Josh on Tango, marveling at how he was riding the gelding bareback, with only a loose rope around the horse's neck. Josh had been working with him over the past few weeks, teaching Tango to respond to the slightest shift in his seat, the smallest flick of the rope. The way they moved, it was as though the two of them were one. Josh sat straight and tall, keeping his legs quiet at Tango's sides with his hands lightly gripping the slack rope. Except for an occasional ruffle of the horse's chocolate and white mane with his fingers as a form of praise, Cassandra could see hardly any movement from Josh. The gelding moved fluidly, his muscular neck arched and his ears flicking back and forth as he paid close attention to his rider.

  Tango's slow, even jog down the short side of the arena changed to a more forward trot. As they turned the corner, the horse moved laterally, his front and rear feet crossing over in perfect rhythm. Once in the middle of the ring, he halted abruptly—all with no perceptible motions from his rider.

  “How do you do that?” Cassandra was both exasperated and impressed. “You're amazing.”

  Josh touched the brim of his cowboy hat and grinned. “The horse makes me look good.” Tango walked forward a few steps and halted again. Josh dismounted, rubbing his horse's neck as the horse nuzzled him affectionately.

  “Seriously, I love watching the two of you.”

  “Well, thank you. One good thing about this rainy weather is it gives me a chance to work with him inside. But I'm stoked about getting on the trail again.” He headed out of the arena with Tango at his shoulder.

  Cassandra followed them into the barn aisle. Josh let the end of the rope fall to the floor in front of Tango's stall, and the horse stopped immediately.

  “Can he have a peppermint?”

  “Sure. He deserves it. He worked hard today.”

  Cassandra unwrapped the treat and Tango took it gently. “You are so handsome,” she said, stroking his velvety muzzle.

  “Thanks,” Josh said, his eyes round with mock innocence. “My horse is, too.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “By the way, you haven't answered my question.”

  “What? About doing your stalls? No problem. You helped me out when I was laid up, so I'm glad to return the favor. Although I wish you'd let me make it up to you another way.”

  Shit, he was in a flirty mood, and she found herself not knowing how the hell to deal with it. Blushing, she slid her hand up under Tango's heavy mane and scratched him lightly, as she had seen Josh do, acutely aware of his owner standing directly behind her.

  Suddenly, she felt hands resting on her shoulders, and she was turned around to face him, taken aback by the intensity in his blue eyes. “Cassandra—I need to know something.”

  “Josh, I—”

  Gently, he cupped her chin in his hand. “I need to know if you'll allow this.”

  Oh, fuck, FUCK...Jesus, what was she supposed to do? Now his lips were brushing against hers, feather-soft. “We would be so good together, Cassandra,” he was murmuring. “So good.”

  Shock, uneasiness, and the fervent wish not to hurt or embarrass him all rendered her motionless. He was so goddamned attractive, so nice, so cowboy, so horse-whispery...he was everything a girl could want.

  And she couldn't.

  Josh sensed it before she could say it. He was apparently as in tune with humans as he was with equines. He straightened and took his hand away from her chin, a small, sad smile playing with his lips.

  “But it can't just be me thinking we'd be good together, can it?”

  “No,” Cassandra whispered. “I guess it can't.”

  God damn, this sucked. She didn't want to hurt him, but she couldn't lead him on—not with what she was feeling. Or in this case, what she wasn't feeling.

  “I thought given a little more time, you might be open to the idea of you and me, but now I'm quite sure that's not going to happen. Unless this is some sort of lame April Fool's joke.” He managed a grin, although there were no dimples to be seen.

  “I am so glad to know you, Josh.”

  “I'm glad to know you, too. There's someone else, isn't there?”

  She looked at him helplessly, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to think.

  He picked up the end of Tango's rope. “You don't need to answer that. Hey—I'm not going to let this be awkward, I promise. I like you too much.”

  “Josh—”

  “It's okay. You know, it's ironic how in natural horsemanship, you learn the release is the reward, but wow, it's not in this case. Letting you go will be hard.”

  She put her hands in her jacket pockets and squeezed them into fists as she watched Josh walk Tango down the aisle and out the open barn door. She hated that she had hurt him. He didn't deserve that. But he deserved honesty.

  She'd have to debrief with Teal tonight when they went to dinner and then to hear Garrett's band. It would be good to get out; her head and heart had been so full lately coming to terms with all she had learned about Carlo. A wife, and a whole other life. He had called twice in the week and a half since they'd seen each other in his office parking lot, both times wanting to know if her stalker had made a reappearance, and fortunately, she'd been able to tell him no. She didn't want him to worry; he, too, had more than enough to deal with right now with the revelation of the accident.

  Driving home, the cloud bank was angry-looking, the color of a deep purple bruise. This type of weather would cause her hair to be unruly, so after her shower, she wouldn't fight it and would just let it do what it wanted. Sometimes, it was best that way.

  As she pulled into her apartment complex, the rain began, battering her
windshield with large, heavy drops. She pulled up her hood and dashed for her apartment. Norman, Mr. Maintenance, was sitting in the parking lot in his old silver pick-up, and she waved to him as she put her key in the lock and opened the door.

  She hung up her dripping jacket on the hook in the entryway and kicked off her Danskos, contemplating whether or not to finish writing her term paper before or after her shower. She decided on showering first; she could do her work while her hair was air drying. The paper would be her next to last major assignment before the final next month. She currently had an A in the class and planned to keep it that way.

  Drying off after her shower, she was struck with the temptation to call Carlo. She knew they needed to meet again to talk, but just like with Josh, she didn't want to lead Carlo on, either. She wanted to be absolutely sure about her decision. It was ironic, because it seemed as though the balance of power had shifted between the two of them, with her now in charge. Of course, one look from those smoldering eyes, and she was reminded of who truly was in control. But Carlo didn't need to know that.

  She had seen another side of him. She had always believed there was more to him than the dominant, almost cavalier presence he had from the very beginning. Now that she knew of his tormented past, she found this had awakened a part of her as well—the part of her that wanted to protect him. Save him.

  Was this desire to save Carlo the root of what she was feeling for him? Or was there more? And could she let go of the hurt and humiliation he had caused by initially intending to use her in a sordid game?

  Okay, time to put these thoughts on hold. She had some work to do. Tossing her bath towel into the hamper, Cassandra took her blue cotton robe off the hook on the back of the door and slipped it on. After squirting a small amount of mousse in her hand, she raked her hands through her damp hair and walked to her bedroom to get her laptop. She'd write her paper at the kitchen table with a cup of hot tea.

  Taking the computer off her desk, Cassandra turned to see her bedroom door closing ever so slowly...just as her mind struggled to comprehend what couldn't be, but what was...a person standing beside it. Her mouth dropped open as all rational thought left her, replaced by complete and utter awe.