Of Demons & Stones: A Tri-Stone Trilogy

by Anne L. Parks

  Rebekah?

  My stomach drops. "I see. Well, are we still meeting for dinner?" My blood is boiling, but I try to keep my voice level.

  "No, I got stood up for dinner, so I opted for dessert with someone available. You don't need to wait up for me."

  The line goes dead. I fall into my desk chair.

  He's cheating on me, openly, and with that woman?

  I'm not sure what to do. Nausea sweeps through me.

  Is this really happening?

  My mind is going a mile a minute. Alex is so upset at my being late to dinner that he is with another woman to get back at me? My heart constricts violently. Pulling air into my lungs becomes more difficult. I know all too well how alcohol can bring down even the strongest of men when mixed with a dose of betrayal...even if that betrayal is perceived and not actually real. My dad was the strongest man I knew, until my mother walked out the door.

  I hit the speed dial again and listen to it ring and ring before finally going to the short voice mail message, "Stone." I press End without leaving a message.

  I'm so hurt. Anger is a fire consuming me. Everything I felt just two nights ago upon learning about this woman comes rushing back with a more poignant sting.

  Grabbing my purse and briefcase, I head to the elevator, motioning for Thomas, who is sitting in the reception lounge, playing his Nintendo DS. We head through the parking garage, and I slide into the backseat of the SUV and call Jake's cell phone.

  Jake picks up after the second ring. "Kylie? Everything okay?"

  "Have you spoken with Alex lately?"

  "No, I thought he was with you at the restaurant."

  "I was late, and he took off. He's been drinking, Jake. We need to find him before he gets pulled over...or worse." I close my eyes, not wanting to think about Alex wrapping the Maserati around a tree.

  "Did he say where he was or where he was going?"

  "No, just that he's with someone." The words linger in the air, heavy with implication.

  "Oh." Jake is quiet for a moment. "Thomas will bring you home, and I'll go out and look for Mr. Stone."

  I don't argue with him. I only offer a meek, "Okay," before ending the call.

  I curl into a ball on the backseat, unsure of what to think, trying without success to block everything out. Visions of Alex injured and bleeding morph into him having sex with another woman. My stomach roils. I squeeze my eyes shut and force the images out of my mind.

  Jake has been great at checking in with me, but by eleven, after driving around for three hours without any sightings of Alex, he's out of ideas. He comes through the kitchen and shakes his head at me as he passes. "I'm going up to my office and see what I can do from here."

  I pick up my cell and press the speed dial for the thousandth time tonight, hoping Alex will finally answer and let me know that he's not lying in a ditch, bleeding to death.

  "Hello?" A woman's voice is on the other end.

  "Who is this?" I ask, instantly pissed.

  "Rebekah. Who's this?" Her voice is sickeningly sweet.

  She knows exactly who I am and is enjoying my discomfort.

  "Kylie. Put Alex on the phone." I'm way past playing her sick game.

  "Um, Alex is...well, how do I put this delicately? He's indisposed at the moment, but I'll let him know you called, Kylie. Bye, bye."

  The line goes dead.

  I don't know what to do. My heart beats damn near out of my chest. My hands shake violently. I want to run from here and never look back.

  The darkness beckons me, and I want desperately to give in to it and escape the pain.

  Within minutes, Jake comes down from his office. "I found him. I'll be back."

  I sink into the chair, drop my head on the breakfast bar, and weep. It's too much, more than I can handle. And I'm not sure Alex will ever be able to adapt to my world. If this is how he reacts just two days into trial, I know I will never be able to accept it.

  About an hour later, Jake comes through the door, half-carrying Alex, who is clearly drunk and unable to walk on his own.

  "Alex." I move toward him, but he pushes me away without looking at me.

  "Take him into the bedroom, Jake." I move out of the way.

  "No!" Alex shouts. "I can't sleep in there. Study."

  Jake looks at me, and I nod, acquiescing to Alex. It's not worth getting into a fight with him in this condition. At some point, I need to get some sleep.

  I follow Jake into the study, and he lowers Alex onto the couch.

  "Thanks, Jake. Can you get me a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin, please?"

  I take Alex's shoes off and then I move up to unbutton his shirt and wrestle that off him. We don't speak. He only watches me as I perform my tasks. It's been a while since I had to put a drunk to bed, but it all comes back to me. My dad used to look at me the same way.

  Jake returns with the water and aspirin, and I motion for him to place them on the side table. "I've got it, Jake. Thanks."

  He leaves us.

  I glance at Alex. "Open wide." I place the aspirins on his tongue and unscrew the water bottle. "Drink," I order, handing the bottle to him.

  He takes a drink and hands it back to me.

  "Nope. Drink more. It's the only thing that will save you in the morning." I don't let him stop until half of the bottle is empty.

  "Do you feel sick?" I ask, my voice emotionless.

  He shakes his head, still gazing at me. I can't look at him for extended periods of time. Deep hurt reflects back at me. He looks so lost, and part of me wants to take him in my arms and wish this night away. Part of me wants him to hurt as badly as he hurt me tonight. All I can do, however, is detach myself from the situation and get him to bed. Tomorrow will come, and things will look different in the light of day.

  "Okay, let's try lying down." I put my hand behind his head as he slowly slides down on the couch. "Lie on your side, Alex. I don't want you choking on your puke if you throw up in your sleep."

  Once his head is down, I look at him. "You good? Need to throw up?"

  "No, I'm good." His voice is meek and childlike.

  My heart melts, despite still being so hurt and disappointed, my heart melts. I shake myself out of the emotion. Just get through this night without breaking down any further. I fetch the trash can from under Alex's desk and dump the contents on the floor before walking back over to the couch and placing it in front of him.

  "If you feel sick, just throw up in there, okay?"

  Alex nods, and I rise. He grabs my hand, his eyes pleading with me. For what, I have no idea.

  I pull my hand away. "I'll be back. You relax and try to go to sleep."

  Jake is in the kitchen when I enter. I grab another water from the fridge and the bottle of aspirin from the counter.

  "How's he doing?" Jake asks.

  "He'll survive. He's going to have a hell of a hangover, so you're going to need to call Amy in the morning and have her reschedule at least his morning meetings, but probably the entire day."

  "I'll take care of it."

  I turn to leave.

  "I picked him up from Patty's house, Kylie. Rebekah wasn't there."

  I look at Jake and nod before continuing out the door and down the hallway. In the bedroom, I change into pajamas before grabbing a couple of pillows from the bed as well as the blanket that is artfully draped over the back of the chair. My head is still in a virtual fog.

  Soft snoring sounds fill the study. I toss the pillows into the club chair. I cover Alex with the blanket and decide against trying to get a pillow under his head. Sitting in the chair, I set the alarm on my phone for every half an hour. I turn off the lamp on the table next to me, and curl into the chair. I gaze over at Alex sleeping on the couch, and I try to figure out how things went so wrong.

  When my alarm sounds at six in the morning, I pull myself out of the chair one final time, walk over to Alex, and check on him. Amazingly, he made it through the remainder of the night without any p
roblems. I checked on him every half an hour to make sure he was still on his side and hadn't thrown up. Once, I woke him to drink more water and take aspirin, which he did without fighting me, before falling back to sleep immediately.

  I'm tired as hell. I step into the shower and let the hot water fall on me. The water paralyzes me though, and I finally allow myself to cry. I cry for myself and for Alex. I cry for what happened and for what is to come. I'm lost, devastated, and completely worn out.

  Get it out, and then suck it up and move on. Tony is counting on you to be focused today.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I walk out of the bedroom and decide to check on Alex one last time before I head to court. Latching the clasp on my watch, I look up and nearly run him over on his way into the bedroom. He looks tired and hungover, but his eyes remain the brilliant blue that continually takes my breath away. We stop and look at each other for a moment, neither of us moving or saying a word. Finally, I step around him and head toward the kitchen.

  "Kylie..." Alex grabs my hand.

  I yank it away. "Not now, Alex."

  I'm near the music room when I hear him coming behind me. "Kylie, we need to talk."

  "No, Alex, not now."

  "Kylie, we can't leave things like this. Please."

  I wheel around, and he comes to an abrupt halt in front of me.

  "I'm not getting into this with you right now, Alex. I'm working on virtually no sleep, and I have to go save a man from lethal injection. You'll excuse me if your drunken rendezvous with another woman is not my top priority."

  Alex just stares at me, his mouth open, and I take a couple of steps toward him.

  "One week. That's all I asked. One fucking week, Alex. And you couldn't even give me that. Now, I'm done talking, and I have to go to court. If you want to talk to someone, call Rebekah."

  I stalk away, and this time, he doesn't follow me.

  Grabbing a travel mug, I fill it and ask, "Who's taking me this morning?"

  I direct the question to Jake, but Thomas raises his hand, which fills me with relief. Overbearing, protective Jake might drive me completely over the edge this morning. Thomas is young enough to be manipulated.

  Out in the garage, I turn to Thomas. "Keys," I demand, my hand outstretched toward him.

  "Sorry, Miss Tate. I can't do that."

  "Fine, I'll go get the keys to the Maserati, and you can try to keep up."

  Thomas lowers his head, exhales loudly, and drops the keys in my hand. I pull the SUV out of the garage and start down the driveway. Plugging my iPhone into the dock, I start my playlist. I love driving. It calms me down and helps me get my head straight. The music gives me something mindless to focus on. The louder, the better.

  I reach to crank up the volume when Thomas speaks up.

  "I know this is none of my business, but I was with Jake when he went to pick up Mr. Stone last night. I had to drive his car back. Miss Patty said he had been there since about eight and that her friend had been there but not with Mr. Stone, and then she had left after a while."

  Thankful for the information and the effort, I smile, but I don't want to talk to Thomas about this subject. "So you got to drive the Maserati? How was that?"

  A sly smile crosses his face. "It was sick."

  I shake my head. "You suck." I turn up the volume and speed down the road.

  I walk through the foyer, drop my briefcase on the floor, and head straight for the bar in the round room. I down one scotch, refill, toss that one back, and take a deep breath. I pour myself a third, step away from the bar, and lean against the back of the sofa. The scotch rolls slowly down my throat, and burns path to my empty stomach.

  Closing my eyes, I steady myself. I know a fight is about to ensue, and after the battle that took place in court today, along with the lack of sleep last night, I'm not sure I'm up for the throw down with Alex.

  The electricity in the room sparks, and I feel his presence before he's even through the door. I open my eyes and find him standing in front of me. We stare at each other for a moment before I break the connection and take another drink.

  "Kylie, I'm not sure I have adequate words to express how sorry I am."

  I empty my glass and move past him to the bar. I can't look at him. His eyes have a direct link to my heart and soul, and right now, I want to be pissed and unforgiving.

  "What happened, Alex? You got bored, went to the bar, called your ex-girlfriend, and had a drunken night of sex?"

  "She has never been my girlfriend, Kylie."

  I turn to face him, throwing daggers into him with my glare. "Oh, sorry. I meant, your friend who you've never had sex with in all the years you've known her until last night when you decided to revenge fuck her to spite me. Better?"

  "That's not what happened. Please, Kylie, can we sit down and talk about this?"

  I move to the couch and sit, fed up and exasperated. The alcohol is already doing a number on me since I haven't eaten anything since yesterday at lunch.

  Alex sits but keeps his distance. "I was waiting for you in the bar, and I had a few drinks. When you didn't show up, I left and drove around. I stopped at a liquor store, picked up another bottle of scotch, and then sent that stupid text. I knew you'd call, and when you did, I just made it worse by trying to make you jealous. After I hung up on you, I didn't know what to do, so I went to Patty's house."

  "So Rebekah wasn't with you in the car?" I ask suspiciously.

  "No, but when I got to Patty's, Rebekah was there. Patty said she came by to confirm that you and I were living together. Apparently, Francine called her and told her about us, which I will deal with later. But I swear to you, Kylie, I didn't call her. The only person I wanted to call or see was you, and I totally fucked that up. Patty and Rebekah were sitting in the kitchen, and I pulled Patty into the family room to talk to her about what I had done. I have no idea how long we were in there. I drank, and Patty verbally kicked the shit out of me for treating you so horribly, reminding me that you had put up with an enormous amount of crap from our family already. Then, she called Jake to come and get me. The rest you know."

  "Except for the part where Rebekah answered your phone and told me you were too busy servicing her to take my call. Did she not give you the message? I guess you didn't hear with your head between her legs, huh?"

  His face drains of all color, and his eyes widen. There is not even a hint of a cover-up.

  "What? No, Kylie, I swear to you, I wasn't in the same room with her for more than five minutes. Rebekah came into the family room after a while. I have no idea how long she sat in the kitchen by herself or why, but she handed me my cell phone before she left. Like I told you the other night, I have never and will never have sex with her. At this point, I hope I never see her again."

  "But you decided to tell me you had a better offer than me for the night. Which is it, Alex? You fucked around with her, or you just wanted to hurt me and make me question everything you have ever said to me and what we mean to each other?"

  He looks away. "I was hurt, Kylie, and I wanted you to hurt."

  "Congratulations, Alex. The hurt I felt last night—that I still feel today—pales in comparison to any beating John ever gave me."

  Alex drops his head, and I wait for him to look at me again before I start speaking. I want him to see me, to look into my eyes, so he understands the hurt and anger I'm feeling.

  "I guess I owe her one thing. Up until she answered your phone, I vacillated between anguishing over you having sex with another woman or absolutely fearing that you had an accident and were seriously injured or dead. Once I talked to her, I was just sick to my stomach at the thought of you fucking her."

  "I did not fuck her. I swear to you. I never have. I never will. Call Patty. She'll tell you that Rebekah was there when I arrived and that I didn't speak to her at all. I'm so sorry I made you think I was with her. It kills me that I hurt you this way or made you question how much you mean to me. It was stupid, and I'm so v
ery sorry. Please, give me the chance to make this right, to prove to you that I'm yours. Only yours."

  My head is pounding. I'm attempting to reconcile my brain telling me it's over and my heart begging me to forgive him. I close my eyes. If only the world would stop spinning out of control. I put the empty glass on the coffee table in front of me and hold my head in my hands. Blocking everything out is an absolute necessity at this point, and I concentrate on my fingers as they circle my temples.

  Alex moves closer to me, places his hand on my back, and rubs it. I know he's trying to console me. Unfortunately, the act is having the opposite effect.

  "Kylie—"

  But I stand up, causing his hand to fall away from me. It startles him enough that he scoots back on the couch. I'm not in the correct frame of mind to hear him right now. I'm so hurt and confused, and everything I was sure about just a few days ago is slipping away.

  "I'm going to go for a run." I turn away.

  Alex grabs my hand. "Please don't go."

  "I can't do this right now, Alex. I need to clear my head. You have to let me do this my way."

  I walk out, leaving him on the couch, and I go to the bedroom to change.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The sun is still bright but at my back as I stand on the top of the bluff, looking out over the calm water below. I've been gone for an hour, which I'm sure has Alex worried and perhaps sending Jake and Thomas out to look for me. I contemplate making my way back to the house and facing Alex, clearing this up once and for all, but I'm just not ready yet.

  Glancing around the landscape, I spot a rugged path cut into the high grass that leads to the beach below. I navigate through the sand and rocks, concentrating on not falling down or rolling an ankle. Once I hit the beach, I jog and instantly feel the burn as my feet sink into the soft sand. I work my way down the beach about one hundred yards before dropping to my knees. My head falls to my chest as the tears come once again.

  He intentionally wanted me to think he was with another woman. Why? Because I was working late? I thought he understood. I thought he accepted that my life would get crazy and unpredictable around a trial, especially one this big with so many implications. I thought I knew him. Could I have been that wrong? Or was I right all along, and this is just the first step in him pulling away from me forever?