Until I Die Again [On The Way To Heaven] (Soul Change Novel)

by Tina Wainscott

  Hallie saw something alight in Mick’s eyes. “So, I will see Master DiBarto tomorrow then?”

  Juicy’s voice became deep and harsh. “Dis time you see him face to face. In the daylight, not sneaking up on him like a coward.”

  Mick winced but didn’t respond.

  She stood. “I have to get back home. Come on, Juicy.”

  “Goodbye, Chris.”

  Mick’s words sent shivers down her spine and throughout her whole body. Those words, spoken carefully, deliberately. Why did they bring back her nightmare? She left the jailhouse, Juicy at her side.

  “Do you think he’ll tell Jamie what I told him?”

  Even in the dark as they picked their way back to the golf cart, she could tell he was shaking his head.

  “Hard to say. Da man be a kook. His aura be dark, all crazy.”

  “You got that right. Oh God, I can just see this whole story coming out at the trial. Do I deny it, or admit it to Jamie? No, I can’t tell him. I can’t risk his thinking that I’ve lost my mind. And what if he tells Jamie that I stole Dave’s gem? He might hate me for that. Juicy, what will they do with Mick if he’s found guilty, which he’ll most assuredly be?”

  Juicy shrugged. “Well, dey already decide to keep his boat and give to da fishermen. Dey might keep him in jail for a long time.”

  Her heart leaped. “Here? They’d keep him here?”

  “Where else?”

  “I can’t keep worrying that he might somehow tell Jamie what I just told him. Or break out and come back to do God-knows-what. No, I’ve got to convince Jamie to drop the charges and send him away from Constantine. If I’ve convinced him of who I am, he’ll probably leave us alone. Do you think I convinced him?”

  Again Juicy shrugged. “I t’ink you convince him of somet’ing, but he not sure what. Give him time, he may believe you.” They reached the golf cart and climbed in, but before he started the engine, he turned to her. “Dese nightmares you tell me you have every night, do you t’ink dey are trying to tell you somet’ing?”

  “No, they’re just…” She turned to him. “Yes, but I don’t know what. That’s how I realized that a truck ran me off the bridge. I keep seeing the accident, just like I’m there again. And I get flashes of other things, too.”

  All she could see were the whites of his eyes in the darkness, looking straight at her. “What other t’ings?”

  “Like a newspaper article, but I can’t read the words other than ‘Missing’. And my boyfriend begging me to give him a chance, but I don’t know for what. Alan telling me that his name is Randy Vittone, that Alan is alive and he’s blackmailing him into doing something. He was going to get proof, and I was meeting him somewhere. He wanted me to go to the police after I had this proof, but the truck ran me off the road before I got there. I don’t know. Maybe I am crazy.”

  Juicy leaned over and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and let the tensions of the past weeks seep out in a long sigh.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. My life here with Jamie is wonderful, but these nightmares won’t go away. How can I go on with my new life when my old one won’t leave me alone? Or rather, my death won’t leave me alone.”

  He lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. “Do you think somet’ing is tellin’ you to go back home and find out what happened? Maybe the nightmares go away and you can live in peace.”

  She listened to the night sounds, the rustle of leaves and screeching calls of a bird. In the warm breeze a chill climbed from her feet and slowly traveled up to her scalp.

  “I can’t leave Jamie.”

  “Dat be your decision. Maybe the dreams will go away.”

  She knew they wouldn’t. Somehow, she knew.

  Hallie thrashed in her sleeplessness for two hours before dropping off. But sleep would offer no comfort, no escape. The images crashed into her mind, one after the other with alarming clarity. Mick held her in a grip. “Goodbye, Chris,” his voice said in an odd lilt. Then he turned into Alan, still holding her. “Goodbye, Chris. Drive carefully.” She held a newspaper clipping in her hand, and all she could read in the crumpled letters were “Missing,” and her heart felt as if someone had ripped it out of her chest. When the familiar scenario started with her car reaching the bridge, the dream changed again.

  Jamie was standing there, reading the newspaper article, crumpling it up in his hand and throwing it at her. “What you’re telling me is crazy. I knew you weren’t right, I knew all along that something just wasn’t right. Dr. Hughes warned me to keep an eye on you. After a couple of shock treatments, you’ll be fine.” He patted her shoulder, a phony smile on his face. “Just fine.”

  She sat up with a jerk, trying to catch her breath. Then she glanced toward Jamie, wondering if he had noticed. He was deep asleep, probably with help from the pain killers.

  Missing. Who was missing? Not Alan, because he had been there. Randy Vittone? Alan’s words came to her again. My name is Randy Vittone. She clutched her head, feeling the ache of the many questions that haunted her.

  “Jamie,” she whispered. “Don’t hate me.”

  “You want me to what?”

  Jamie sat up straight before getting dizzy and setting his head back against the pillow. His mind was still foggy. He was sure he’d heard Hallie wrong.

  Her voice was small, quiet. “I said, I want you to drop the charges against Mick. Will you listen to me while I explain?”

  He crossed his arms, anger bubbling inside him. The terror of finding that his wife had been dragged from their bed was still too fresh in his mind to think of anything other than murdering the son of a bitch. It had only been two nights before.

  “Okay, explain. Don’t tell me that you’re just a forgiving person, and I won’t even hear anything like you don’t want him hurt.”

  Her blonde hair fell about her face as she leaned toward him, blue eyes pleading. She nervously licked her lips, lips he’d rather kiss than hear these words from.

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I want to strangle him myself.” Her hand felt warm as her fingers encircled his arm. “Jamie, if he’s found guilty, they’ll keep him in prison for a year or more.”

  “So?”

  “They’ll keep him here. He’ll be right over there all that time. That jail cell isn’t made to hold anyone indefinitely. What if he breaks out? What if he comes after us again?”

  He softened as he heard her plea. Not for Mick’s comfort but for their safety.

  “So what are you suggesting?”

  “That you drop the charges only if he’s immediately sent back to the States. Neither one of us will talk to him or even see him. He’ll be escorted directly from the cell to the airfield and flown away.”

  “What if he comes back?”

  “He won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  She was avoiding his gaze. Besides the trace of desperation, he saw guilt. He moved his arm out of her grasp.

  “Hallie, did you go see him?”

  Her chin twitched, but she didn’t answer. He threw her hand off the bed and pushed her away.

  “Damn you, Hallie.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and stood. In blue jeans with her hair in a ponytail and no make up, she looked like a teenager who’d been caught sneaking out.

  “I didn’t see him on a social visit. I had to convince him that I wasn’t the woman he thought I was. That I’m different now.”

  “Did you go alone?”

  “Juicy went with me.”

  His eyes widened. “Juicy, the bartender?”

  “He’s a friend of mine. He was my only friend for a while.”

  He felt a twinge of guilt, then got mad because she was the guilty one, not he. “Hallie, leave me alone.” There was such fear in her eyes, he felt compelled to add, “I just need some time alone for a while.”

  “Don’t hate me, please. I just want him gone from our lives. He wo
n’t be gone if he’s right there, a short walk away.”

  “Leave.”

  She dropped her head and left without giving him another look. He stiffly got out of bed and stretched. His muscles were still too sore for his morning swim. The doctor had said no activity for a couple of days, but one more day in bed and he’d go nuts. Phoenix was lying by his side of the bed, and Jamie got a major head rush when he leaned down to pet him. The throbbing pain in his head increased its tempo.

  Even though he wasn’t supposed to, he took a shower, then got dressed. Hallie was sitting out by the pool, throwing peanuts to George, who was hanging on one of the skinny branches of the calabash tree. They had developed the game some time ago, taking turns tossing peanuts and dried fruit bits to the upside-down monkey. This time she was flinging them a little too hard, and George was missing most of them and not too happy about it.

  When Phoenix wandered over to where she was sitting, she instantly looked up at Jamie. Her eyes took in his clothes, but she didn’t say anything. Her expression was hesitant, full of that sadness he had seen in the days after her release from the hospital.

  “Make the arrangements,” he said.

  She stood. “For Mick, you mean?”

  “Take care of everything without seeing him, do you understand?”

  “I will.” She studied him. “Are you… all right with this?”

  “My head hurts too much to figure out how I feel about it.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To work. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  He left her standing there with a bag of peanuts in her hand, staring after him.

  Hallie had gone to the office, too, but had been careful not to run into Jamie. Her relief from avoiding the trial had not erased the feelings of guilt for getting Mick off easy, no matter how valid her reasons. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she’d gone to Jamie’s office and found it dark. Worry sent her running home to see if he was there.

  She found him lying on a chaise lounge by the pool. His blond hair was plastered to his head from a recent swim, although wisps of it broke free as they dried in the sunshine. She stood there for the longest time, staring at him. The ache in her heart that had started out as a dull thud now had a tearing-of-flesh feeling.

  Jamie, how I love you. Please don’t hate me.

  Everything around her looked different through eyes that might not see them for a while. George sat in a tree nearby, picking at a big, green breadfruit; the palm trees danced in the wind; and the late afternoon sun made everything feel warm and hopeful. Not the way she felt at all.

  She walked over and knelt down by Jamie. He woke with a start, blinking at her through the sunlight behind her. He reached out and roughly pulled her toward him, kissing her.

  “Never,” he murmured into her hair when he held her close. “Never see him again, Hallie. Or talk to him.”

  She couldn’t talk for fear that tears would start gushing out. She could only shake her head. After a moment, he pulled her face back for another long kiss, his hands yanking off her shirt. In one swift movement, she was the one lying on the lounge, and he hovered over her.

  “Jamie,” she said between kisses. She didn’t want to make love with him, not before she had to tell him she was leaving.

  “Shhh,” he ordered, kissing her into silence.

  Feeling his tongue moving with hers and his body pressed against hers, she realized how much she wanted this, the bliss before the storm. He slipped out of his bathing suit, then slid her skirt and panties down. She felt his strength inside her, his tongue dominating her mouth. Her legs moved up to encircle his waist, and her arms slipped around his neck.

  She trailed her fingernails down his back, gritting back words and tears as he moved inside her. He gave her no mercy, no space to breathe, no tenderness—just raw passion. They both gasped for breath, not willing to wait for it to catch up to them.

  Her body convulsed, sending her rocketing to some other place where pain and decisions were nonexistent. Oh, how she wanted to stay there, touching the sun, feeling engulfed in heat. His shudder yanked her back to reality, and he pulled her closer for a tighter hold. They remained there for a few minutes before he moved away to look at her.

  “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”

  She only then became aware of the tears streaming down her face. To stave off the torrent, she only shook her head.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Not now, she couldn’t tell him now. She took in short breaths, trying to regain control.

  “I’m sorry, Jamie,” was all she could manage.

  “No, I’m sorry. Let’s put it behind us.”

  She nodded in agreement, blinking to keep the tears back. She studied him, subconsciously memorizing every detail, every nuance of him. His dark blond eyelashes captured the sunlight, casting tiny shadows on the top of his cheeks. Tiny beads of sweat accumulated on his forehead, and she reached up to wipe them away with her finger. His blue eyes studied her, unable to hide the uncertainty.

  Her fingers trailed down his neck to mingle with the soft fuzz on his chest that was only visible close up. She closed her eyes and memorized each ridge on his chest and stomach, the feel of his belly button.

  “I love you, Jamie,” she said, finding her voice uncooperative. She wanted to say it again and again, to make him understand and believe that he was her life, her soul. Everything.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Not now.” She looked away, but he held her chin and moved it back so that she faced him again.

  “What not now?”

  “Jamie, please,” she whimpered.

  He moved away from her, but his eyes never left hers. “It’s Mick, isn’t it?”

  “God, no.” She bent her head and rubbed away her tears. “It has nothing to do with him.”

  Jamie stood up and put on his bathing suit. Towering above her, she couldn’t see his face with the sun blinding her from behind.

  “What has nothing to do with Mick?”

  She started crying again, the sound of sobs and the blinding of tears that blocked out everything around her and left her feeling alone and scared. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he stood there watching her.

  “What’s going on, Hallie?” His voice had that flat tone again. It dulled her senses, making her able to look at him.

  “I h-have to leave, but it’s nothing to do with Mick or you.”

  He whirled around and walked inside, leaving her talking to the empty air. She jumped up and followed, finding him holding his head with one hand and leaning against the wall with the other. Her heart leaped into her throat.

  “Jamie, are you all right?”

  His eyes were filled with anger and disbelief. “Why?”

  She took a deep breath. “I can’t explain, because you’ll send me away to the Sharp Rehabilitation Center. I won’t have you thinking I’m crazy.”

  “You’d rather me think you’re heartless.”

  “You know that’s not true. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

  He leaned into her face. “No, you won’t.”

  “But I will.”

  “You walk out that door without any explanation, and I don’t want you back.”

  Her eyes widened. “Jamie, you don’t mean that.”

  “I mean every word of it.” He turned too quickly, then grimaced. His hand moved up over his heart. “Hallie, don’t do this to me.”

  Her tears started anew. “I’m not doing it to you. I’m doing it to me. I don’t want to leave. Before I can live in peace, I have to find something out.”

  “Find out what?” His eyes glared at her, and his body was stiff.

  She looked at him, weighing how much to tell him. Telling him something was better than leaving him completely in the dark. “What happened on that bridge.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “The one you keep dreaming about?”

  She nodded. “There’s a reason it haunts me ev
ery night. I have to put the pieces together. And don’t start talking about seeing a doctor. This isn’t something any doctor can figure out. Only I can.”

  “Hallie, this is—”

  “Don’t say crazy. Don’t. It’s not crazy to me. Something happened when I was in a coma. Something put these images in my head. I have to find out why. It’s as important as the feeling that I’d come back for you.”

  She knew he was thinking that her brain had been injured, by the tightening of his mouth, his expression of both worry and anger. “So, you’re going to, what, go searching all the bridges in the country until you find the one in your nightmares?”

  She didn’t want him to know where she’d be going. “Something like that.”

  “Then II’ll come with you.”

  “No, I have to do this alone. I feel strongly about that, it must be just me.”

  He turned away from her. “Mick’s flying out tonight. Why don’t you see if you can fly out with him?”

  “It’s not Mick. Please trust me.” She moved up behind him and tentatively touched his back. “I know it’s a big thing to ask, but I’m asking anyway. Trust me.”

  He turned around and the pain in his eyes made her heart break. “I can’t. I can’t give you that.”

  Her voice was a whisper. “I have to go. I don’t want to lose you, but I have to go. When I’m finished, I want to come back.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No.”

  “Jamie?” She reached out for him, but he moved away.

  He grabbed some clothes, and, without even a glance in her direction, walked out the door. Or rather his blurry figure did, through her tears. Now that the damage was done, she couldn’t change her mind. Everything she had worked so hard to achieve had disappeared through that door. She let herself think of the soft blond hair she would never run her fingers through again, the eyes that would never look at her with love, arms that would never hold her again after a nightmare.

  She shook herself from the fit of self-pity. She had to get rid of these nightmares, find out the truths behind them. Then she would return, and maybe, just maybe, Jamie would forgive her. But she had to face another possibility: maybe he wouldn’t.