by Claire Perry
“This isn’t over.”
With a flourish, he headed out.
Alice’s nerves finally caught up with her. She started to topple backward, about to crash through the apartment’s window and fall to a stereotypical millionaire’s death. Matt ran and caught her around the waist.
“Mrs. Cornwell, I think it’s time you had a seat, eh?”
Chapter 8
Journey took Anita’s hand. She was almost unresponsive to questions and bowed over the table crying her heart out. She was quiet this time and almost no one even looked towards them as they sat at a table far-flung from the rest, a little social island, captured in this strange sepia colored moment of their lives as though this was a portrait of struggle and sorrow.
Journey’s anxiety was relieved with the thought of Kenneth coming to help her. Now that her spirit was free, she could speak her mind. She clutched Anita’s hand and looked to the heavens.
“Anita, you know… I don’t have any idea how this must feel. Kenny’s parents are gone. My parents died ages ago and I haven’t seen my brother in years. We’re all that each other has...
“I know that’s probably not what you want me to say. The truth, though, is the one thing that will always set you free.
“Let me show you the truth, dear. Look up to the sky. That’s where I go when my spirit is heavy. The world falls away up there. It’s like being free…
“This is the truth, Ann. You’ve only just begun to live. There are so many things you’ve got left to be. So many things that you still have to do. This woman can’t keep you from finding true love. Why, if Joe loves you as much as he says that he does, he’ll fight for you. He’ll spend his own money on you, yeah? I thought that was the problem they were having anyway, wasn’t it?” Journey patted the top of Anita’s head. Anita finally lifted her herself up, flashing the tiniest smile.
Journey looked up with an empowered grin. She saw Kenneth coming to her rescue, pulling up about one light down from the pizza parlor. The street was crowded and he was still a way off, but they exchanged a fond look. They always found each other through the crowd.
“The truth is, Anita, dear… Life is over in a moment. Don’t waste it all on tears.” Journey smiled in Kenneth’s direction – for the last time.
It was over before Kenneth had time to realize that it had happened. Journey smiled at him like the day they’d gotten married. Then there was light. White hot spotlight. It shot out from the street behind the parlor, rolling through small buildings and that one island table.
Kenneth leaped from the car before it was even in park. He didn’t hear himself screaming her name, but those who would recall this moment in years to come would know.
Anita rolled away from the fire, burned, but alive. Kenneth fell to his knees and crawled through roasting car parts, burning pieces of table, and the roasting umbrella that had been mounted in its center.
Journey lay on her face where she had fallen. Kenneth knew before he touched her yet couldn’t keep from rolling her over. Gone was the beautiful face he’d known, taken by fire. Here she lay in his arms, disfigured, singed naked…
Dead.
There was a sound like wheels shrieking over the pavement, but Kenneth didn’t hear them. Anita had texted Joe in the car ride to the parlor and he came tearing up the street from his mother’s skyscraper, overly eager to ease her pain.
When he saw his girlfriend lying on the ground, he came screaming to the scene. Kenneth didn’t hear his shouts. He could only hold Journey and whisper her name, begging her to tell him if she was okay.
Joe lifted Anita up and clapped his hands on her face. She stirred.
“Oh, thank God! She’s alive! She’s alive… Hey, you’re her friend’s husband, right? Help me get her to the hospital! Hey!” Joe froze, jarred out of his own self for one agonizing moment. That instance when he was aware of someone other than himself was enough to sear and to haunt him forever.
“Journey! Hey, Journey! Smile for me, baby. It’s all…It’s going to be okay.” Kenneth was choking now, lips gone white. He could dream, couldn’t he? Dream and lie to himself. It would never be okay again. Not for Kenneth Law.
“Journey? Journey! Oh my God! Oh my God, please! Please…”
Please. He begged until it drilled into Joe’s skull – an eternal mantra that had cursed him. He would never escape tonight as long as he would live. His mother had been right after all. Their selfish race had driven Anita nearly out of her mind. Why else would she be seeking solace in such a place at this hour of the night? Had she not run here, she would not have been hurt. Had she not needed comforting her friend, Professor Erickson-Law would never have come here. She would still be in her class, beautiful and alive.
In his agony and his unpardonable guilt, Joe could not take the responsibility. He had never been the one to take the responsibility for anything, and now that he felt compelled to, he didn’t know how.
“No!” Kenneth’s screams tore through the night, sending spectators diving for cover. Ambulances had rushed to the scene. EMTs had to bodily remove Kenneth, sedating him where he stood, peeling him away from Journey’s roasted corpse. They laid a cloth over her face and zipped her into a body bag.
Joe stood transfixed, watching as they lifted her up. She was young and alive five minutes ago.
He quaked with rage that shot to his heels. Someone would have to pay for this. He knew exactly who. Alice was guilty because only Alice stood opposed to their marriage. Who else could have arranged for something as horrible as this? Whatever this was. The police officers were saying something about a car bombing, but he couldn’t hear them.
He stormed after the EMTs, following Anita up into the ambulance. The girl’s eyes were wide. She had just watched her best friend and emotional crutch die.
“Is she... Did Journey make it?” Her eyes were wide with terror. What would she do if she had not?
“Close your eyes, Ann. Just... close your eyes.” Joe laid a hand on her forehead and plucked his phone from his pocket. He had his mother on speed dial.
---
The millionaire and the former CIA agent sat in her apartment, allowing the dust to settle and the smoke to clear. She’d had a few different bottles of liquor in the bottom of her desk, ready when the child she’d loved and struggled for had driven her to drink.
“Words cannot express how grateful I am that you showed up like you did. I don’t know you yet, but I’d like to in time, Matthew.” She smiled at him, feeling vindicated by his presence. He studied the liquor bottles.
“I’m grateful I found you, too. It would be a tragedy for your son’s petty garbage to have ended with someone hurt or worse…”
They sat drinking the Mancinis they had mixed up with her stored liquor and the oranges he always had with his personal effects. Sitting and talking with soft laughter, it was almost a happy evening. It was almost like forgetting that the world was falling to pieces around them. Millionaire and bodyguard somehow understood that neither of their lives would be the same after this evening. There was something stirring in the air. Something terrible that would shake the world off its axis. No amount of forgiveness or struggling to make it work could ever heal it. Something was about to be broken that could never be fixed.
When Joe’s call came, Alice knew. There was no way she could have known, but Death leaves a shadow that touches all of those caught in its wake, even if they don’t witness it or know the one who was taken.
She felt ice cut through her soul. He was accusing her of being responsible for an explosion that had hurt Anita. His words weren’t making sense. She was here. She’d been here the entire time. No, she hadn’t liked the sound of the girl, but she didn’t want to kill her either.
“Joe. What are you talking about? Slow down, son. What accident? When? Is she okay?” Without knowing why, Alice broke into tears.
“Oh, so now you’re concerned about Anita and me! She’s okay, for now, thanks. Only her friend, Professor J
ourney Erickson-Law, remember her from the Youth Charity? She’s dead, Mother. Because of you, Journey is dead. My fiancée’s best friend, her rock. She’s almost suicidal with depression because of what you’ve done. Now her best friend is dead and it’s your fault. You’ve put the last nail in your coffin, damn you! I swear to God, Mother, I’ll take my cut of your money and marry Anita White! I’ll stock pile my corner of the business and sink you deeper than Titanic. Then I’ll make the younger Mrs. Cornwell 10 times the woman you were! You may have inherited his empire, but I have Anders Cornwell’s blood. You hear me?! Journey’s death won’t be meaningless. I promise that to Anita… I promise.” He hung up on her.
Alice turned to face Matthew. He had gone white and was suddenly coughing as though he would be sick. He stood up, silently excusing himself.
Alice slid onto her decks, breathless. Then she remembered.
“Oh God…”
When he’d come into the room to her defense, he’d announced himself as “Matthew Erickson.” She’d missed it at the time. Yet, he was about the same age as Journey, wasn’t he? When they’d worked together, she had mentioned something about having a fraternal twin just in passing.
“Oh my God…” Alice felt her hand subconsciously reach for a picture of Anders…
She owned the world, for God’s sakes! Why couldn’t she just buy the things that it would take to make everything okay? To make peace for all the people that she loved! Why did a beautiful young girl have to die because of their feud?
“Oh, Anders…It’s over, isn’t it? I failed you… I failed everyone.”
His photographed smile was hollow now. Hollow like her soul.
It would be easier for her to believe that this was the end, but a little voice whispered deep within that this was only the first act of this unwilling opera.
Epilogue~
The day they buried Journey Erickson-Law was cold and empty. All 30 of her students had shared the duty of being a pallbearer. Along with the pall, they had spread a notebook over the coffin filled with the notes they’d taken on their Milky Way discussion. It was just a reminder that the tomorrow she had promised never came.
Alice stood looking on at the top of a hill under a great oak tree with Claudia at her arm. Kenneth had not been able to attend for long. He had sat quietly in the widower’s chair until Anita had finished the song she’d wanted to sing for her “hero,” as she’d said. Joe had attempted to make a speech on Anita’s behalf when Kenneth cut him off.
“No! Why are you even here? Both of you, why are you the ones to do this?” Kenneth had leaped to his feet. It had taken all of the funeral directors to secure him.
“It’s your fault she’s dead! Mixing her up in all of your drama. No, it shouldn’t be you. Ask someone else. Someone say things about her. About the life she lived and the good she did. It’s the least you could do after you short changed her days, damn it!” Kenneth tore free of the directors, jabbing a finger at Joe.
“I swear to God… Somebody’s going to pay for it. One day… Somebody will pay for the mess you selfish bastards cause when you can’t see the consequences of your own reckless behavior! Somebody always has to pay, don’t they?!” He shook his head. His knees were knocking and tears were streaming down his face.
“You’ll see…” He turned and fled the scene, Grant chasing after him.
Alice stood now under the oak, watching with Claudia from the distance as Matt sank next to the freshly filled grave. Someone had already had to pay for Joseph and Alice’s feud. Someone like Kenneth. Someone like Matthew Erickson.
He bowed his head, trying to choke back the tears until he’d said his peace. He had a whole bouquet of white roses in his hands and set them down gingerly as he tried to begin.
“Hey, sis… It’s me. You remember me, don’t you? It’s been a long time since we parted ways. After my career went awry… Remember how you made me promise I would get to higher ground? Never use those superpowers again, just so I could live to have a brighter future?” He cracked and tears began to bleed free. Had he known that the pursuit of his healing and happiness would one day end with burying her…
“I hate to do this to you, but I don’t have a choice, Jay. I’ve got to go back out into the field, even if it kills me. See, sister, today they buried you – and me, too. I’m never going to be okay again. It’s like being blown apart and somehow still breathing.
“I swear as God is my witness, Journey! Somebody has to pay for all of this. Somebody has to figure out who and why and put an end to all this drama. That somebody’s going to be me… I’m doing it for you. Try to understand.”
He bowed over and kissed the raw earth, leaving the roses there.
“See you soon, sis.”
The Dangerous Woman
Book 2
Hook~Book 2
Joseph and Anita Cornwell’s wedding was lavishness enough to provoke the English Royals to jealousy. He had wasted no effort to show his mother that he would indeed give Anita the wedding that she had never gotten. The guests made note of this. They made note also that Alice Cornwell, the woman who had been the unintentional producer of the whole affair, was absent.
Claudia stood behind the stage, concealed from the sight of all the other guests by the canopy of woven opals that served as a veil for the bride and groom’s pavilion. She swallowed, feeling so out of place in this moment. Her boss wasn’t with her. She hadn’t really been invited. Out of love for Joe, she had applied to be the violinist for the reception and the bride and groom’s dance. She charged low rates for a budget-breaking wedding and the music director had been stunned by her performance.
She smiled wistfully and spun awkwardly in the thigh length formal black cocktail dress she was wearing. There were many searing eyes trained to her. Of all those beautifully decked out in rainbow colors and satin, why was she alone dressed like she’d come to a funeral?
He would never know. Joseph Cornwell had forgotten her so completely that he barely looked up when she walked by him, heading for her place on the stage. She had brushed against him on purpose just to attract his attention one last time. She hadn’t done it to garner his attention. Alice’s wise counsel hadn’t been heeded, and she hadn’t been welcome here to do the honors of giving her son away. Joseph Cornwell had been the only love Claudia Nagant ever had. She had to touch him just once and then pull away. Just to symbolically say that she was giving him away, to an uncertain future that she hoped would be happy despite everything.
She swallowed her tears and looked out over the audience. The front row was filled with beautiful girls, girls from all walks of life. Some with the pristine white teeth and thousand dollar dresses that denoted class. Some with rented bridal boutique gowns and the cigarette jaundiced smiles of girls who hadn’t had all they’d dreamed of. Their faces spoke their pain. He had used them. He’d loved and left them all.
Claudia smiled, somewhat grateful that her relationship with Joe was only in their hearts and only for a summer. He’d looked her way in a time when she was too broken to realize that a man could notice her and she thanked him for that. Wasn’t it the least she could do to perform the song his mother and father had played at their own wedding? The only proper send off for his only child would be a salute to Ander Cornwell’s memory and a nod to the family Joe had forsaken. It was the perfect piece for it, and she, with the song in her heart, would be the one to project it into the thin, sweet air. She would shed that bittersweet summer of long ago when they were young and he wasn’t yet so calloused to those that loved him with deep meaning.
This song was a hopeless siren call to the Prodigal Son, beckoning him back to the family that had loved him and built their empire with the intent of one day giving it to him. Curse him for not being able to remember! To recall them, the people who had him engraved in their souls and wanted to see him go as far as he possibly could. How could he not see that this girl was using him? Claudia knew they had no proof of this, and yet she was so much l
ike Joe in the way she functioned in relationships that it only stood to reason.
Nothing Claudia Nagant could do would be enough to set this right. She knew it deep within her bones. Out of all the crying faces and the press-baiting objections of young ladies in the audience, there was one smiling face that was glaringly absent. One pair of dancing eyes that had never gotten to see this day. One voice that broke the sound barrier with its silence.
Claudia hadn’t known Journey Erickson-Law well. She’d met her only once, but that one encounter was enough to make her heart echo with the loss when she learned that the youthful professor was gone forever.
No, there was nothing that could ever be done to make this okay. This wedding had been forced on the world. The press seemed to revel in it, but there wasn’t a single guest on the floor that didn’t feel some chagrin at this match or some heart that didn’t ponder some unvoiced remorse for the road that led here.
So, no one even batted an eyelash as Claudia played Whitney Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You” over her strings, a singer softly accompanying her from a piano. She knew that Joe wouldn’t even notice. This was for the girls whose hearts were broken. For the father whose memory had been tarnished. For the mother that was absent. For the dear friend they had buried in the dust their trampling feet had cast up as they’d rushed hell-bent to this day. This was for every person who had loved Journey Erickson-Law and had lost her to the soap operatic drama of Joe’s ridiculous self-focus.
This might be the last thing that Claudia Nagant could ever offer humanity now that he had ravished her soul. It was a tiny novelty. Fragile like the china figurine she had become as her heels locked on this floor. Yet here she stood with tears coloring her face like snowfall – small, white in the opal light, cold.