by Garcia, Amy
I flop onto my back and stare at the twinkling chandelier; full of frustration and angst I wonder if we will we ever live a normal life? Can we with all of his enemies? Yes and No join me on the bed, attacking my feet when I move them under the covers until finally they settle down and take advantage of my warm body to sleep against. I need to close my eyes and try to sleep; I know I do, but I can’t.
After sleeping all day as a result of my late night hamster wheel thoughts, I’m now well rested. I’m not taking a sleeping pill with Evan’s condition in limbo, so I’m stuck here with not much to do until I remember my iPad is on the bedside table. Reaching over carefully as not to disturb my fuzzy bed partners I open the drawer and feel around for it. My fingers brush over the handcuffs, two guesses as to who put those away for me.
The words I slung at Isaac repeat in my mind and guilt seeps in, shit. I was so nasty, it’s not like me, but the things he said tore my heart out and he emotionally backed me into a corner, like an animal, I came out fighting. I’ll forever know that people have suffered terribly, even died at the hands of my husband. I can’t imagine how that must feel, to intentionally take the life of another removing them from the face of the earth. Maybe they were all evil people; maybe they all deserved to die?
I wasn’t raised to think that way though; God is the only one who can judge us and decide our time is done here. The murderer, torturer, keeper of slaves…fuck this line of thought! That’s not who he is anymore! I squeeze my eyes shut tight and repeat over and over ‘he’s loving, attentive, generous and he adores me.’ Those are the thoughts I have to fill my mind with but still the details of the man he used to have a place in my mind, part of me will always have my guard up watching for a sign, waiting for that stranger to return. I tap the glass of my iPad until I find the book I was passing the time with in the hospital. Yes readjusts turning in her spot before stretching out along the length of my leg. I stare at the page of a romance novel not actually reading the words, but thinking about all of the romance novels I’ve read, hundreds of them where the characters have fallen in love and will more times than not, live happily ever after. I want that, why can’t life be more like a romance book? Easy, passionate and predictable, I’ve got a third of it down pretty well, but being with Evan will never be easy or predictable.
Ugh, I throw back the covers and toss my iPad aside on the bed scaring the crap out of Yes and No. “Sorry, babies.” I can’t just lay here doing nothing, maybe a walk will help. I pass the T.V. and touch the screen where he lays, still sleeping before grabbing a hoodie from my wardrobe. I zip it up and head out to ease my restlessness and praying for something to tighten the reigns of my racing thoughts. My stomach is still a little off, but I think something to eat might help now.
The kitchen is dark; Cecelia has gone to bed long ago. Toast, that sounds like a good place to start, but I don’t know where anything is kept in this kitchen. After rummaging around in the impeccably organized cupboards, I find a loaf of bread and pop a slice in the toaster and lean against the island. The last time I was in this kitchen alone at night just like this, it was a monumental disaster. Thankfully the doctor staying in this house tonight isn’t interested in derailing my marriage. The toast pops up unexpectedly startling me away from my memories of Dr. Carter and Evan. Geesh, when did I become so jumpy? My stomach growls, impatient to be settled. I nibble carefully at the dry toast and take a bottle of Evan’s fancy water from the fridge.
Now, what? I feel totally normal; whatever was wrong has disappeared as quickly as it came on. When the kitchen is cleaned up, I switch off the light and with nothing else to do, I resign to go back to my bedroom. In the foyer, I change course at the last minute when I walk past Evan’s office. Pushing the door open, I notice a soft green library lamp glowing on his desk. I wonder if he asks that a light be left on in every room at night; my big strong husband still hates the dark. Smiling at that thought, I amble to his desk and sit in the plush leather office chair, tilting it back and propping my feet on the huge mahogany surface.
Humph…must be nice being the king of his castle, now all I need is a cigar, and I’d look like the godfather. I cover my mouth and giggle to myself while my eyes wander around the shadow ridden room. It’s kind of spooky, but the dark doesn’t bother me. Running my hand along the wood I push myself an inch or two to the left and then the right, I know what I’m here for, but I’m too embarrassed to even admit it to myself. I want to snoop. He keeps so many secrets; I know it’s for my own good, but that doesn’t make me any less curious. Shifting my eyes inconspicuously around the room I check for the cameras that I know are there. I’m surely being watched and most likely by Isaac but hey, this is my house now too, right? I can look at anything I like, I’m his wife.
Reasoning with myself is damn effective, and I end up sliding open the center drawer moving the chair just enough to peek inside. Nothing exciting, a couple of pens neatly lined up on one side and random office supplies arranged in an anally retentive pattern, yea this is definitely Evan’s desk all right. Closing the drawer, I drop my feet to the floor and try the one on the left. I already know the one on the right is where the panic room button is installed, there’s nothing else in that one that’s of any interest to me.
Leaning over, I squint to make out what’s inside this deeper and darker drawer. A bottle of scotch rolls from the back, typical man, and over a thin stack of files next to a box of unopened tissue. I reach for the files but pull my hand back hesitating. I shouldn’t be doing this, he’s my husband, and I trust him. But unlabeled files not organized in a file cabinet in color coded alphabetical order just seems very out of character for Evan. Maybe it’s just that Isaac has been using his desk, and he’s put some work in this drawer…or maybe not.
Growling with frustration I cave into my curiosity and pull out the file on top and crack it open just enough to see a few documents from Dominus, nothing exciting. Placing it on the desk I pluck another from the stack and stop cold when I see the name at the top of the first form, Cameron Rose Lawson. A neatly handwritten sticky note inside the file reads “To be destroyed”. Most of the contents are legal forms saying Cameron was adopted by Evan at age nine. Who would let a mafia family leader adopt a kid? The answer is obvious, anybody I realize. The fact that he was a mob leader is precisely the reason someone let him adopt her; no one refuses Evan Lawson anything.
I lay the file out on the desk and prop my elbows on either side of it, neatly going through each form one by one. But the file has more than legal documents, it has photographs as well. The first I come across is a haunting picture of a young Cameron sitting at the dining room table in Seattle; I recognize the table because I once walked down the middle of it seducing Evan.
I can tell it’s been taken from security camera footage because of the high angle. She’s sitting alone eating with one hand and sitting on her other one. The next photo is of a much happier child, maybe a couple years older. Healthy and glowing she stands next to Evan proudly holding a trophy. I’m not able to make out what she’s won it for, but it probably wouldn’t make any difference to her. Whether it be for running a marathon or winning a game of checkers, it’s obvious her pride is directly related to Evan.
The next few show a timeline of Cameron’s life, elementary school years to high school, she continues to blossom, getting more and more beautiful in every photo. It’s clear that her goal was to please Evan. Swimming competitively on a team, dancing jazz, ballet and tap. Playing the cello in the orchestra. Dance recitals, concerts you name it he was there supporting her. His smile changed over time from proud and fatherly in her earlier years to stiff and forced in her teens until finally he’s absent from the photos altogether. It’s in the photos without him that it’s easy to see she’s gotten in with the wrong crowd.
I know what happens after that, my tummy takes a little roll and I break out into a cold sweat at the thought of him intentionally luring her into his bed to punish her for th
rowing the life he so generously gave her away. The last item in the file is a death certificate. It seems so sad that a person’s life can be summed up and represented by a few pictures and documents in a file. Nobody will remember her, no family will mourn her loss, except for Evan and his grief is tarnished with guilt. When I’m finished, I make sure everything is exactly as I found it except I remove the sticky note. The short documentation of her life shouldn’t be destroyed, no matter what happened between them in the end she was a person, and she mattered.
I place the file back where I found it and decide maybe there are some things a wife shouldn’t be looking through but before I can close the drawer I notice a small wooden box with a brass latch. Whoever coined the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’ was surely referring to me. I look up and scan the room before I take it out of the drawer and hold it below the desk out of the cameras view. When I open it, there are two keys nestled in purple velvet with ENL engraved on each one. Evan’s initials. On keys? Now I’m really intrigued, what the hell could these keys open. I slip one key out of the box leaving the other and replace it in the drawer exactly where it was, well as close to exactly as I can anyway. I can tell he’s got things arranged so that he will know if someone has touched them. He won’t be at this desk for a while though, and I’m sure Isaac works here in his absence so if anything is out of place Evan will assume it was him.
I have no idea how I plan on finding what lock this key opens but my heart thuds in anticipation. I’m not pressing my luck tonight though suddenly my bed is calling my name. How can I possibly be tired when I’ve only been awake for six hours? A night owl by nature, my body is conditioned to be up at all hours. Before I leave, I try to put his chair exactly where I found it but it’s hopeless, not that it matters anyway I’m sure someone will know I’ve been here. Still I look at it, moving it a little to the left and then scooting it a little to the right; I give up, dead center will have to do. Slipping the key into the pocket of my hoodie I return to bed where I see Evan is still sleeping on the T.V. screen. I kiss the tips of my fingers and press them against the glass.
“Goodnight, baby,” I say and wander to the bathroom to pee and take my sleeping pills. When I return to bed Yes and No are still there purring loudly as they sleep; only barely acknowledging my presence when I snuggle in with them, raising their heads and peering at me through narrow, sleepy golden slits. “Night guys.” I reach out and stroke one and then the other before surrendering to sleep.
I wake to the feeling of the mattress dipping behind me and cool air rushing in under the duvet. Initially, I think nothing of it, Evan comes to bed late all the time, sliding in behind me and warming me with the heat of his body. Realization pulses through my body suddenly, and I bolt upright, warm familiar hands slide around my waist.
“Shush baby, it’s just me,” Evan says. I reach the bedside lamp and switch it on nearly knocking the damn thing over. Whipping around I’m brought eye to eye with the man who stops my heart and stirs unexplainable emotions whenever we are in the same proximity.
“Wha!” I’m silenced with a finger against my lips as he pulls me into the curve of his body, spooning behind me, moaning softly into my neck.
“You left me again.”
“I..” Again I’m quieted when he slides his hand between my breasts and past my neck to cover my mouth with the tips of his fingers.
“Don’t tell me I should be in a hospital bed. Don’t tell me I need medication or monitoring because I don’t give a fuck about any of it. The only thing I need is you and for some reason unbeknownst to me, you keep leaving me when I fall asleep.” I squirm gently trying to free my mouth from his hand.”
“Uh uh uh, no talking, you talk too much; I need my wife not my nurse so shush.” He’s crazy, and this is proof. I purposely stop struggling, and he removes his hushing fingers from my mouth.
“I think Dr. Carmichael drilled too deep into your brain.” I feel his warm breath as he sighs, his lips smile against my neck. “Always with the smart mouth.”
“You would never let me out of bed if I were sick,” I say.
“I would never leave your side if you were sick,” he counters
“I was barfing in the trash, Evan, you really didn’t need me there infecting you. But apparently distancing myself from you was a waste of time; you’re going to get the flu, ya know.”
“You were throwing up?” He pulls his arm out from under mine to check my forehead. “You’re not hot.”
“Gee thanks, yea I know, it’s just my stomach. And you should be more concerned with yourself, you’re septic you know that’s serious, it could kill you!” I take advantage of his loosening grip, and when I turn to face him I notice he still has the IV that I started in his arm, he’s just unhooked himself from the fluids. I’m about to raise hell with him when I look into his usually bright green eyes and see despondence.
Frowning I cradle his face in my hands and smooth the worry from his brows with my thumbs. “What is it?” I ask.
“You keep saving me.”
“And you keep sabotaging me. Why can’t you stay in bed and listen to the doctors’ orders, rest and stay calm?” He is quiet, and I expect he has no answer to my question, no reasonable answer anyway.
“I don’t like taking orders. And I can’t get well without you, I crave your presence like an alcoholic craves a drink, I need you with me, Mia.” Closing my eyes I bite my lip, he has a way of defusing my anger and making me feel guilty for wanting perfectly reasonable things. He can also melt my heart and make me feel adored and cherished at the same time.
“I’m always here for you, even if I’m not directly in front of you I will always be close by and if not you will know where I’m at. From this moment forward, no matter what, I’ll make sure you always know exactly where I am, will that help?”
“No.”
“No? I thought that was what you wanted?”
“No, that is not what I wanted. I need you with me, I don’t want to merely know where you are, and I want to be able to see your face whenever I open my eyes.”
“That sounds like codependency.”
“Mia, it’s always been this way. The moment you came home from the hospital with me, you have been the only medication that heals me; nothing else can do what you do.” The look in his eyes bore a hole through my heart, holding mine with such intensity and need that I begin to understand. I need him too, but his needs stem from abandonment and deeply buried fear, mine are simpler but no less powerful.
“I’m here, I promise. Always. But you have to promise me something in return.”
“Anything.”
“Do what the doctor tells you to do.” He nods mouthing the words thank you as he pulls me in tight against his chest. “Evan?”
“I know what you want to talk about, actually I know all of the things you want to talk to me about.”
“You do?” I’m not even sure what I want to be discussing, so I’m really interested in his take on things.
“First of all, we are going home. As soon as Dr. Carmichael gives me the green light to fly we will be leaving.” Well, that was defiantly not what I was thinking, but good to know. “And second I will continue with whatever treatment is necessary but only from this bed, next to you.” Now that’s what I wanted to talk about. “That’s good because I was considering IV sedation if you wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would not put it past you, lady.” He snorts.
“Anything else I want to talk about?” I ask
“Yes, two more things actually. We are still going on vacation; I want to go home first, but I have informed Isaac to continue making arrangements.” Well, shit, he’s already been talking with Isaac, and I’m assuming he’s still alive if he’s planning our vacation so he must have kept our argument to himself.
“He told me, Mia.” Every muscle in my body goes on lockdown; I stiffen in his arms and dig my fingernails into his skin causing him to wince. What
exactly did Isaac tell him; surely he hasn’t shared his feelings for me, no that can’t be it? He must have only told him about the warning; I’m playing dumb until I can figure out how much he knows.
“Told you what?”
“Really, Mia? Feigning ignorance? I thought you would have jumped at the chance to drill me about my past.” Ok, so he knows that much, now I have a place to start.
“I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable sharing, Evan; I’m not even sure I want to know who you used to be.” LIAR! I do want to know, maybe it’s stupid but I need to know who his enemies are, who to be afraid of and who to trust. He inhales deeply and when he releases the breath he chuckles.
“You are the worst liar, Mia; we need to work on that, baby.”
“I am not lying!”
“Yes you are and that’s all right. I have always known you were curious to a fault. I know he was spooked when he saw the handcuffs on the headboard, he’s been scared for you all along, and I also know he has a crush on you, Mrs. Lawson. So let us be completely honest and get it all out there so we can move on, shall we?”
He told Evan? Is he insane? After seeing Evan nearly beat Dr. Carter to death, I can’t imagine him being so stupid.
“Is he…ok?”
“Yes Mia, he’s fine.”
“But why? You almost killed Dr. Carter for telling me the same things.”
“Isaac is different, I care for him and he’s been with me for a very long time. I know he would never act on his feelings for you, he is too loyal. Dr. Carter was a wolf baiting his prey with the sins of my past he wanted you for himself, he was trying to take what’s mine. I can’t fault Isaac for falling for you, you’re irresistible with your innocent aura and compassionate nature, your soft as silk skin.” He begins lightly tracing my figure, brushing the back of his fingers from my neck down my arm. “These luscious curves.” He continues over the hump of my hip and slips his hand inside my pajama bottoms, palming my ass. “And this ass, mmmm, fuck Mia, no man in his right mind could resist this ass.”