The Ring of Fire: The Dragon Dream: Book Two

by Robin Janney

  “No.” Angela’s reply was defensive, her fingers lacing together. “I’m just tired. And yeah, depressed. I’ll admit it. I think I’m allowed right now. I was held captive with a gun pointed at me, I was assaulted and raped, and I lost the baby I was carrying. I don’t plan on staying depressed for the rest of my life, I’m taking the new medicine you gave me. I know it takes time and all that, so I’m hoping things will begin to even out.”

  “Are you ready to talk about the rape yet?” asked Pat, writing on her notepad.

  “What is there to talk about?” Angela’s lip curled in derision.

  “Well, we could talk about how invasive her fingers felt, or whether you enjoyed her playing with your nipples. I know you have latent homosexual feelings…”

  “Excuse me?”

  Ah, there was the anger.

  “Just because I experimented with a girl once, doesn’t mean I have latent anything. We were both drunk, and it just happened.” Angela shifted in her seat, attempting to calm down. “We both pinky swore not to tell anyone, and to not let it affect our friendship. She told her therapist, so I don’t understand why I can’t tell my husband. And yes, those fingers were invasive. And it hurt. It still hurts, and I have no way of knowing if the scratches are healing.”

  “She must have been quite rough to scratch you with her fingernails.”

  There was a snort. “She wasn’t gentle.”

  Pat let silence hang in the air. Her dream lover said to take things slowly, to prod this patient but then back off as a show of good faith, and then once the medicine began to work its magic she could press harder to get her patient to be more active in her own healing. So, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Angela. I honestly don’t mean to upset you. I know you don’t want to stay in this place of mental and emotional turmoil. I’m sure your husband longs for the same thing. So, what would you like to talk about instead?”

  Craig, of course. Pat let her ramble for a few minutes, letting the time slip away. About how despondent her husband was since returning from his trip. How he didn’t talk to her like he used to and seemed so impatient at supper time, the only time she saw him. How he hid in his office and kept the door closed.

  “How do you approach him?” she asked Angela at one point. “Are you the spoiled woman I see now, whining because he’s not spoiling her, or do you at least pretend to be good-natured and non-combatant?”

  “Uhm…”

  “That’s what I thought.” Pat hid her smile throughout the rest of the session. After sowing enough seeds to keep her patient off balance, she sent Angela off with the encouragement to give her husband space. Taking the usual few minutes between patients to add her handwritten notes to the electronic file, as well as send emails to Angela’s husband, she hummed absently. She’d send one to Dr. Rockwell as well, although it was only a courtesy. If she didn’t, the other doctor would email her asking about the session anyway, and since Angela had requested the two communicate, she’d be obliged to answer him.

  God, Angela Moore was beginning to irritate her.

  51

  H e was trying to sleep, and someone was tapping his shoulder. It wasn’t a hard tap, but it was annoying. Rolling over in bed, Craig looked up at his wife who sat in the middle of their bed next to him. “What?”

  “It’s Sunday. Are you going to church?” Angela pushed bedhead hair away from her face. Her blue eyes blinked uncertainly. “I meant to ask you yesterday, and I forgot.”

  He highly doubted she’d forgotten. Last weekend she had asked him on Saturday night and hadn’t said a word when he’d said no. She had just nodded her head and returned to picking at her meal.

  Rubbing at his sleepy eyes, Craig wondered why she wanted him away from her again. Did she blame him that much? “I never even told Pastor Dan I was going out of the area. Did he call at all?”

  “I called him,” Angela answered. She fidgeted, looking both embarrassed and guilty. “Shortly after you left for New York. I kept him updated about your dad, so they could pray.”

  She was just full of surprises, wasn’t she? He drew a deep breath, and checked the time. It felt earlier than seven in the morning, but he had stayed up late working on sketches. Trying to figure out what he was feeling and why. He had to get working on his next comic installment, but he wasn’t ready to do that yet. “I guess.”

  “I’ll get ready. How much time do I have?”

  She was going to come with him? Sitting up in bed, Craig rubbed his face, trying to wake up. “You don’t have to come with me, Angela,” he said as she crawled off the bed.

  “I said I would if you came home.” She shrugged and headed to the bathroom.

  She had, hadn’t she? Now he understood – or thought he did. He’d prayed for this day, when his wife would want to join him at church. And now, it made him sick to his stomach. Because Angela didn’t want to come, she thought she had to in order to keep him in their marriage. The shower kicked on, and Princess laid across the doorway to the bathroom as if on guard. The dog didn’t look impressed with him.

  “What am I supposed to do?” he asked the dog, who just swished her tail for an answer. He gave a sad chuckle. “You’re a lot of help, girl.”

  He was still sitting in bed when his wife came back out of the bathroom, her pink underpants already on. He didn’t think she owned any other color, and for reasons he didn’t understand, it was beginning to bother him. But still, the sight of her mostly naked body was a torment to him. Craig knew sex wouldn’t fix things between them, even if they could right now, but he wanted her just the same. Needed her.

  She faltered at his gaze when she saw it. “Oh.” Haltingly, as if unsure of herself, Angela crossed the room to stand by his side of the bed. “Uhm, I know we can’t have sex yet, but I could…” And her hand reached out to touch him.

  “No!” Pushing down his panic with anger, Craig rolled out of bed without touching his wife or allowing her to touch him. “I don’t want that ever again.”

  “But…” She began to follow him across the room.

  Turning, he couldn’t look at her even though he was holding a hand out to ward her off. “Just…no, Angela. Alright? You said you would never pressure me.”

  “I…I didn’t realize I was,” she said softly, her hands coming together and twisting in front of her. “I’m sorry. I’ll finish getting ready.”

  “No,” he said again. Why not? He was on a roll with telling her no, so why not keep going? “You’re not doing it for the right reasons. I came back because I love you, not because you promised to go to church. Go…ride a horse or something.”

  Shutting the bathroom door loudly behind him, Craig sank down to the floor with the door at his back. There was a soft tap at the door.

  “Craig?” she asked, tears in her voice.

  “What?” he asked, not sure if he didn’t sound the same.

  “I love you no matter what. You know that, right?”

  “I do, Angela. I just…” He let his head fall back against the door. “I just need a little space right now.”

  “Alright. I just…I’ll go now.”

  He heard her soft footsteps walking away and once he was sure she was far enough away from the door to be unable to hear his tears, released his pain.

  A ngela was in Belle’s empty stall, sitting on top of hay bales she’d asked the stable hands to put in here for her. If it hadn’t been for the lifting restrictions Dr. Ryan had given her, she’d have done it herself. She was so tired of ‘taking it easy’. But the last thing she wanted to do was cause any more damage to herself.

  They’d jumped at her request and had assured her she wasn’t bothering them. Once they’d left her alone, she’d gone down on the bales on her side using her arm under her head as a pillow. If she was going to keep coming here, she should bring a regular pillow with her. And maybe a blanket to lay on so it wasn’t as prickly and itchy. Princess lay across the doorway of the stall as her ever vigilant guard.

  This was as
alone as she could stand to be. Sundays were Nan’s day off and she had stayed in her craft room until her husband had left for church. He hadn’t even come in to kiss her goodbye like he used to. And the silence had been deafening. The aloneness had been suffocating.

  So here she was. In her dead horse’s empty stall.

  Angela knew it was her imagination, as surely as thinking her horse had been talking to her in those last moments of life, but there was some last vestige of Belle’s presence here. The sounds of other horses were comforting. Buster sounded particularly upset over something.

  Pulling her iPhone out of her pocket, Angela frowned at the time and subtracted the difference between time zones. Kevin might be out of his own church service. She sent a simple message, asking if he could tell her why her husband would refuse a sexual favor.

  His answer came back in just over five minutes: I’m sorry Angela, I can’t answer that. Doctor/Patient confidentiality.

  It was kind of an answer in and of itself, wasn’t it? she thought as she lowered the iPhone to the hay. Her phone buzzed again, and she saw another text from her husband’s doctor: As your friend, I can tell you that your father-in-law would be able to answer your question.

  Did she even have her father-in-law’s phone number? Angela wasn’t sure and looked in her contact list. Finding it, she called the number.

  “Hello,” came the simple greeting.

  Panic caught her throat. She’d never talked to her father-in-law on the phone before. Why hadn’t she thought to call him while Craig was in New York? She’d never called him to see how he was doing, relying instead on her husband. She was as much a failure as a daughter-in-law as a wife. “H-hi Les. It’s Angela. Craig’s wife?”

  “Angela, hello. Is everything alright?”

  His voice was calm, and the effect worked on her almost as well as her own father’s voice. Philip, that is.

  “Enough, I-I guess. Craig’s at church.”

  “Is he? He didn’t go while he was here, so I’m going to take that as a good sign.” Les coughed dryly.

  “Kind of. Uhm, this is hard for me to ask. Things are a little rocky between Craig and I still. He…did Veronica do anything to my husband before he came home?”

  There was a deep sigh on the other end. And that was an answer, wasn’t it?

  “She did,” Les confirmed. “It’s one of the many charges against her.”

  “What?” Angela sat up on the hay bale, wincing at a cramp in her abdomen the pain medicine didn’t quite cover. “What’s going on?”

  “She’s been charged with Katie’s homicide, attempted homicide of you, intent to harm, sexual abuse of minors, indecent assault of a male, and I believe your local DA is talking with ours about the possibility of adding collusion for kidnapping and either rape or sexual assault to the charges due to your statement. They haven’t decided which way to go with that, even with forceful penetration.” He coughed. “Craig hasn’t told you any of this?”

  “No. We…we sleep in the same bed, and eat at the same table, but things are quiet right now. I think he blames me for what happened. I…wait…you know I was raped?” Her breath caught painfully. “Wait, does Craig?”

  “I know, but I doubt it’s registered with my son that his soon-to-be-ex-stepmother had anything to do with what’s happened to you. And I know about your miscarriage. I am so sorry, Angela. It was all in the police report your DA shared with ours. I think they’re going to try to charge her for the murder of your fetus as well. And I’ve been privy to the information because of my connections with the case.”

  “It’s…barely been two weeks,” she stammered. “I didn’t think things worked so fast.”

  “I highly suspect someone is pulling a few strings on your behalf,” answered Les. He coughed again. “It may take a while before the trial happens. Veronica’s craftier than I ever thought possible. She’s been squirreling money away the entire time we’ve been married, so she’s able to hire a good enough lawyer. On the bright side, she’s not contesting the divorce and that will be final before the end of the week.”

  “There’s going to be a trial? Am I…are we going to have to come for it?”

  “Yes. Davenport would like to have you two come out early for questioning, but Craig hasn’t gotten back to me on that yet.”

  “Well…maybe I’ll finally get to see the Statue of Liberty then.” What else was there to say to that?

  Her father-in-law chuckled. “I’ll take you myself if my son doesn’t. I should be in my new place before then. Same building, but a couple floors higher. You and Craig will be welcome to stay with me.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that.” Angela was silent and didn’t know what else to say. She had her answers, didn’t she? “Thank you for telling me. Craig…hasn’t been able to tell me, just like I haven’t been able to tell him about what happened to me. I-I just…can’t explain my fears right now. My doctor wants me to, but I can barely get words out.”

  “I’ve noticed a slight stutter,” commented Les.

  She ignored his comment. “Did Craig really choose me over Katie?”

  There was a sigh. “I believe so, Angela. And…I’m not sure if I should share this or not, but what the hell. It was the mention of the threat against you which enabled my son to put a stop to what Veronica was doing to him. If my soon-to-be-ex-wife had kept her mouth shut, I’m afraid your story would have had a very different ending. But, she was overconfident.”

  Angela nodded in her solitude. “When I came out of my coma, God told me to shine in his darkness. I try, Les, I try so hard to shine in his darkness. I don’t think I do a very good job at it.”

  Her father-in-law chuckled kindly. “I’d say you do just fine, Angela. Sometimes clouds get in the way, but stars shine just the same.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said, trying to take his kind words to heart. “I’m going to let you go now. I have to make another phone call before Craig comes home.”

  “Feel better soon, Angela. And don’t be afraid to call me if you need anything.”

  “Okay.” After the obligatory goodbyes, she disconnected from the phone call and backed out into her contacts. Looking at the list of names and numbers, Angela hesitated. She started the call and put the phone to her ear before she could back out. There was a click and then dead air, almost like the other person was waiting for her to speak first.

  “Ev-verett?” she asked, hearing the stutter her father-in-law had mentioned. One more thing she was going to have to overcome. One more complication for her husband when he noticed it.

  “Angela! How did you get this number?” Her biological father sounded surprised, and pleased.

  “N-nan. I like her, so p-please don’t replace her. P-please?”

  Her biological father chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. What has you calling?”

  “I was wondering, if you’ve had a chance to look into the matter I asked you about? About my husband’s stepmother?” She couldn’t stop her hand from rubbing nervously along her jean covered leg. It was hot enough to be wearing shorts, but she couldn’t right now.

  He sighed. “I was hoping you’d reconsidered.”

  “No.”

  There was a sound, and she wondered if he was nodding her head like she herself did sometimes. What had she inherited from this man? Considering she had asked him to murder her husband’s stepmother, maybe more than she would ever want to admit.

  “I can make sure she never sees the light of day, Angela, make it so she can never hurt you again, but I can’t do anything other than that.”

  Now Angela was the one drawing a deep breath. “I guess that’s better than nothing,” she said out loud.

  “That’s the spirit. How are you feeling otherwise?”

  “Pretty crappy still, thanks for asking. Uhm, I’m going to let you go now. Thanks for…just thanks.”

  She didn’t hear his reply as she disconnected without a goodbye and lowered the phone. Sighing, she re
turned to her earlier position. She hadn’t had the heart to tell her husband Dr. Ryan didn’t want her riding yet. Angela lay there, not wanting to think or feel. Numbness was preferable, but she couldn’t quite reach the lack of feeling she desired. Not without using the pain meds, and she didn’t want to go overboard with them. When her phone chimed again with a text message, she saw it was almost one.

  Her husband had texted her: I’m home. Where are you?

  She texted him her location and waited to see if he sent another text.

  Craig replied: Up for lunch and a movie? Bubbles popped up under the message to let her know he was typing another message. It wasn’t long in arriving. This one read: How does grilled cheese and tomato soup sound?

  It sounded like her first time in his home. Had it been a date? She’d always thought so, even though her younger brother had been along. She typed her reply: Sure. Can we watch Batman Begins?

  Would he remember too? Of course he would, her husband wasn’t the one with missing memories.

  Sure ��

  She smiled and wasted no time replying: I’ll be right up.

  Leaving the hay bales, Angela brushed herself off and pocketed her phone. “Come on, girl,” she said to Princess. It would take time, but she and her husband would weather this.

  52

  I t’s time, Pat thought, listening to her patient ramble about her latest Sunday afternoon with her husband.

  “It’s almost like it used to be,” Angela was saying. “If only for one afternoon. I-I wish he’d spend more time with me. He doesn’t even come out of his office for supper anymore. Or lunch.”

  “Have you asked yourself why, Angela?” she asked, doodling on her notepad. There was no point in taking notes during the segments of the sessions where she allowed the other woman to talk about her husband.

  “All the t-time. I know he’s hurting over whatever happened in New York with his stepmother. Les didn’t give me a lot of details, but I assume…”

  “Really, Angela, don’t you think it’s more likely your own behavior causing your husband to be distant?” Pat shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the younger woman’s hand rubbing up and down her jean covered thigh. Another sign the medicine was working. Still no fresh pink nail polish on those nails, or curls in her hair. “How can he trust you right now? You’re still so…unpredictable. Your bipolar moods can’t be trusted. For all he knows, if he tries to spend time with you, you’ll start acting like a shrew again.”