He was tired; he could feel his body protesting every movement. Now, if he could only get his mind to settle down. Ian glanced behind his shoulder at her still figure in the bed, where there was plenty of room for one more. Yeah, sleeping next to her is really going to help matters. Still, he knew he would, regardless. He’d promised her he would, and after the events of the evening, he knew his heart wouldn’t allow him to betray his promise to her. Yawning, he began taking a few steps away from the railing when he heard a sharp scream emanating from somewhere within the belly of the Capitol. A sharp scream that was quickly silenced by the pop of gunfire. On the streets below, soldiers ran in unison, too perfect to be real, in the direction of the commotion.
He turned around to see Celaine still sleeping in the bed, and then walked back over to the railing, where he found his gaze transfixed at Potomac Park across the river. A sickening feeling crept over him at the thought of the possibilities tomorrow held. Had it been just a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have cared much about the possibilities. Whatever happened would happen, just so long as it served to bring The Man in Black down with it. Now, he had something to lose if those possibilities took a turn for the worse. And that alone scared the hell out of him. He hadn’t had anything to lose since his father was alive, and he hadn’t anticipated ever allowing himself to have something that important to him ever again. But even the best laid plans have a way of diverting from their original blueprint.
Ian stepped away from the railing and entered the suite, closing the French doors behind him. Just before the doors clicked to a close, he heard a series of pops from the same direction the other one had originated. He shuddered as he thought about the soldiers and the protesters, and what surely was taking place at that moment, whether warranted or not. No matter what he did, the sound of gunfire—phantom or otherwise—wouldn’t be leaving his ears anytime soon. With a yawn, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped both it and the undershirt underneath it off. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he undid the belt to his suit pants, stealing another look back at her.
He slipped off his suit pants, allowing them to fall to the floor, too tired to properly hang them on the chair next to his suit coat. Maybe she could sleep fully clothed, but he required a little less constriction. Then, slowly, so as not to disturb her, he climbed into the bed next to her and draped his arm around her. Searching in the dark, he found her hand and caressed his fingertips over the peaks and valleys of her knuckles. Her hair smelled of something flowery—lavender, perhaps. Nonetheless, it was soothing.
“No matter what happens tomorrow, I promise you that I’ll protect you,” he spoke in a whisper. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Even now, he could feel his heart beating profoundly in his chest, though the beats had slowed somewhat. “I’ve never admitted this before,” he began again, “and considering that you’re unconscious right now, it probably doesn’t even count as an admission of anything, but I’ve wasted my entire life. At least, it was wasted up until a year ago. Up until I met you. Since my dad died, I’ve been too afraid to let myself care about anyone. I thought I was protecting myself that way. I thought I would never feel pain again if I just stuck to a ‘I don’t give a shit’ mantra. But, instead, all I’ve been doing is cheating myself. I didn’t realize that until just a few weeks ago. And now, I would rather die a thousand deaths than spend a day without your smile; a day without your laughter.” He cupped his hand over hers, easily overtaking it. “Clearly, I’ve become a sentimental idiot,” he said, his eyes growing heavy. “I’m not sure what that means exactly. Maybe I’ve completely lost my mind, or maybe it means something much deeper…”
His eyes shut for the last time that night, cutting his thoughts off before a hail of gunfire erupted once more throughout the city.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Premonitions
I’m dreaming. I know I’m dreaming, but the visual imagery surrounding me is so vivid I find myself forgetting it’s not real. Flanking me on both sides are the roses from the courtyard of yesteryear, every bit as gorgeous as I remember. Except, I’m not in the courtyard, but in a garden of sorts. In front of me is a pathway made of brick that appears to lead around a corner to a destination just out of view. Curious, I begin following it, noticing for the first time that I’m wearing a dress. It’s a white dress; a formal dress. A wedding dress? Why am I wearing a wedding dress? What fresh hell has my subconscious conjured up for me tonight? And then I turn the corner and see him.
Chase is standing at the end of an endless aisle, watching me intently, with a smile on his face. A smile that every woman dreams about seeing on their future husband’s face on their wedding day. I look down at my hands where I notice a bouquet of roses, turquoise and violet in color. How they got there, I don’t know. Walking down the aisle, I am alone. Even my dreams are unable to resurrect my father.
Slowly coming into view as though emerging from a fog on either side of the aisle are our wedding guests. Most of them I recognize from Hope Memorial, and others are even more familiar. My former co-worker Veronica sits next to Travis to my left—a strange pairing that only solidifies this as being a dream in my mind. I wave at Veronica, who beams in my direction, and then I look around at the other attendees as I continue my walk.
In the front row, still several meters away from where Chase stands, Jim, Carrie, and MaKayla sit watching me admire their son and brother. Carrie dabs her eyes with a tissue, while Jim and MaKayla each smile at me wider than I ever remember seeing them smile before.
I continue my walk down the brick aisle. Although I’ve made considerable progress, Chase still appears to be miles away, as though I’m walking on a treadmill, moving, but never really getting to a firm destination. Yet, on I walk. Further down the aisle, roughly half-way between Chase and the attendees, I glance to my right and see Ian standing there, staring at me. Instead of formal attire, he’s wearing his suit, his helmet under his arm. On his face, he wears an expression I haven’t seen on him before. Pain. It wasn’t the physical pain that I’d seen in the simulator from time to time, it was a pain that cut much deeper than that. One that would leave an emotional scar no matter how much time passes or how many miles are put between now and then. He nods mournfully in my direction as though accepting his fate and the inevitable choice I was about to make.
I look from Ian back at the altar, back at Chase, whose radiant smile almost erases the devastated vision of Ian’s face from my mind. Almost. Though my heart feels light, my feet fall heavy, making my steps seem like I’m walking in slow motion. But I continue walking. And then, just as I seem to be making progress, Ian’s voice screams bloody murder from behind me.
“Celaine, watch out!”
He begins running at the altar feverishly. Perplexed, I look back at Chase, and am horrified by the image behind the fog that has lifted from behind where Chase remains standing. Our clergy has revealed himself as The Man in Black. Chase looks up, terrified, and immediately attempts to flee to safety. But as he tries to jump out of the way, something trips him up, and instead of freedom, he finds himself in The Man in Black’s homicidal arms. The Man in Black spins Chase around too quickly to be real with one of his arms placed around Chase’s neck, and his hand firmly gripping the side of his head. His intentions are obvious.
“Ian! Stop!” I plead, but my cries fall on deaf ears. Ian keeps his pace as though on autopilot. Enraged, and perhaps a tad exuberant at Ian’s defiance, and what it means for his captive, The Man in Black swiftly grips the side of Chase’s head and twists it sharply in the opposite direction. A sickening crack reverberates like ripples on a pond, dropping me to my knees. “No!” I scream in agony with an expression on my face I’m sure surpasses that of Ian’s from earlier.
The Man in Black loosens his grip on Chase’s limp body, and it slumps to the ground, landing at the base of the altar.
*****
“Celaine.” Ian’s voice, along with his hands shaking my body, forced my eyes open
, waking me up from my worst nightmare. “Celaine,” he called my name once more. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
“Chase,” I called out. My eyes shot open, and I quickly rolled over to face Ian, who stared down at me in shock. It was several octaves better than the expression he’d worn in my dreams, but still pained nonetheless.
“No,” he said, “it’s only Ian.”
“Ian, I’m sorry. It’s just the dream I had, it was so vivid, and…”
“Chase was in it,” he sighed.
“Yeah, you were there, too,” I said, noticing his lack of clothing and his practically naked, toned body.
“Yet my name was nowhere to be found on your lips,” he answered. He’d begun to push himself up from off the bed when I grabbed his arm to stop him. His body grew rigid with my touch, his solid arm seemed invincible, as though it could withstand anything. Maybe it could.
“Ian,” I practically whispered his name, and his hardened expression softened just enough to show me that whatever anger he’d had was short-lived. “Please.” My eyes watered, an indication of just how emotionally drained I’d become.
Ian smiled slightly before kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said as he held my face in the palm of his hand, wiping the beginnings of a tear away from the corner of my eye. “Don’t cry. I’ll feel like a royal asshole if you start crying,” he said.
“You’re not the asshole, Ian. I’m beginning to feel like maybe I am.”
“No, Celaine, I honestly don’t think that’s possible…” he paused. “You loved Chase. You’re still in love with him…and although, given what happened between us last night, it’s like a sock to the gut to hear you calling his name, I need to suck it up. You had someone in your life you loved, who meant a great deal to you. Losing someone like that in any capacity would be devastating. I haven’t had anything like that in my life in a long time…until recently.” He smiled, rubbing my cheek with his thumb before letting his hand fall away from my face.
“Are you scared, Ian? About this evening?” I asked him, smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress.
“A month ago, I wouldn’t have been. I would have been gung-ho about all of this, with a ‘whatever happens, happens’ attitude. But, as I sit here with you now, looking into your eyes, I’m scared. I’m scared shitless, Celaine, but not for me. I’m afraid of losing you. Whatever happens to me can happen, but nothing can happen to you. I won’t allow it.”
“You can’t keep me shielded forever, Ian,” I said, realizing, as I spoke, that’s what he’d been doing all along, perhaps even before he’d realized it himself.
“Then I’ll die trying.”
*****
“Look at the amount of space in this master bedroom,” Paige stated in awe.
“It looks exactly like it’s the same size as the one in the apartment we saw before this one, and the one before that,” Chase sighed.
“Are you kidding me? There’s at least three more feet of space in this room compared to the others,” she said, gesturing around the room as though its dimensions would become readily apparent.
“Whatever you say,” Chase answered, decidedly allowing her to win this battle.
“I’m with you, Doc,” Paul whispered next to him. “I don’t see much of a difference here either.”
“Well, at least I know I’m not going entirely insane.”
“Oh!” Paige squealed. “Chase, come here. This one has walk-in closets.”
“No way,” he feigned excitement in response to her exclamation as he walked over to where she stood.
“Mock me if you want, mister,” she said, “but these are deal-sealers right here. That’s it, this is the one. This is our apartment.”
“Really?” Chase asked, unconvinced. “That’s what you said about the last one, the studio.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the open floor plan of the studio, but this one feels more like home.”
It’s also three hundred dollars more per month to live here, he thought.
“I think it’s a keeper too, Doc,” Paul piped in. “Besides, this one has a more spacious spare bedroom. It would be perfect for when your girlfriend’s father comes to visit,” he said, winking.
“Well, when you mention that…” Chase half-chuckled. “I guess it is closer to my parents’ house, and it is further away from the city…”
“Then this is it?” Paige asked, her eyes widening. “This is our home?”
“Yeah, this is it.”
“Eek!” She flung her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I love you so much! I’m going to go downstairs to the leasing office.” She bounded out of the room, her excited footsteps making a beeline out of the apartment.
“You’re welcome,” Chase muttered.
“I know my daughter can be a handful,” Paul said next to him. “She’s high-strung, stubborn, selfish at times, and has been completely pampered—entirely my fault—since her mother died when she was twelve. However, she’s also insecure and was in a constant state of depression before you came along. Since you’ve been in her life, I’ve seen a change in her. She seems to be happy again, like when her mother was still alive. Not only did you save me, it would seem you also rescued her too.”
“Well,” Chase replied, feeling flushed, “she’s helped me out quite a bit too, Paul. I wasn’t in exactly the best shape when we first met either.”
“It seems like you two are a perfect match, then. Just do me a favor, Doc?”
“Sure, Paul, anything.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m not going to live forever, you know.”
“Oh, Paul, I think you’d be surprised. Characters like yourself never truly die,” Chase laughed, his expression changing immediately upon noticing the less than playful one on the older man’s face.
“Just promise me you that you’ll take care of my little girl, Doc,” he said.
“You have my word, Paul.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Arrival
I carefully pulled my hair back into a French braid, probably taking more time to complete it than I should have, considering we were expected downstairs in less than ten minutes. An elastic band encircled my wrist, and I removed it to secure my hair into place before pulling my helmet over my head. A knot had situated itself in my stomach, unmoving, no matter what reassurances I tried to give myself. The events of today remained to be seen, their outcome undetermined, whether we fought with those whose ideals we believed in or stood back and allowed Brooks his moment of glory, no matter what that moment would mean.
“Ready?” Ian poked his head inside my door. He was suited-up, ready for action.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answered. Ian smiled from behind his helmet and stooped down to grab my suitcase.
“I’m capable of grabbing my own things,” I said to him.
“Trust me, I know what you’re more than capable of. Just let me be a gentleman for once in my life.”
“You should give yourself more credit than that, Ian,” I sighed. “You had plenty of chances last night to be anything but gentlemanly.” I pulled the visor of my helmet down over my face so he wouldn’t be able to see the worry painted on it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting my suitcase back down on the floor.
“I have this feeling that nothing will ever be the same again after today. It feels like we’re being led into something pivotal. Something that will be written about in history books for years to come.”
“Or it may be the single most anti-climatic moment of our lives.” Ian wrapped his arms around me. “Whatever happens today, whether war, peace or absolutely nothing, we’ll get through it. Who knows, maybe all this country really needs is a little uprising.”
“If we’re part of that uprising, you know that will be the end of us, right? There’s no way we’ll get through that unscathed.”
“I’m a firm believer that you can get through anything if you follow your heart. Doing so led me to th
is room, after all.” He tightened his hold on me before uttering the one phrase that would stick in my mind for the rest of the night. “It led me to you.”
I felt his arms around me loosen their grip as he dropped down to retrieve my suitcase. “Ian,” I said, still contemplating the words that were milling about in my head, “I care about you…more than I was ever prepared to care about anyone again.”
“Ditto,” he laughed.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt out there or feel the wrath of Brooks because of any decision I may make. When we’re out there, we each need to do what’s in our hearts, and not just follow the other’s lead.”
“Celaine, although I appreciate that you don’t want to see me hurt, I’m perfectly capable of thinking for myself. But there’s also no way I’m going to allow you to throw yourself to the wolves, either. I trust your judgment implicitly and, no matter what, I’m sticking by your side. Besides, there’s more of a statement to be made if you and I stick together.”
“I know, Ian. I just don’t want to see someone else die or get hurt because of my actions.”
“If I get hurt, it’s because of my actions. The same was true for Blake as well.”
“I suppose it’s been ten minutes, hasn’t it?” I asked.
“Twelve, actually. It’s been twelve minutes since they alerted us.”
I nodded. “Well, we shouldn’t keep Our Majesty waiting a moment longer, should we?”
*****
The SUV Brooks sent for us, driven by one of his many henchmen, pulled through the gated entrance to the pier. Outside, the news media lined the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of Brooks and his newfound allies. Thankfully, the vehicle’s windows were tinted, and the only images they were able to capture were those of the side of the SUV. I turned my head away from the flashbulbs. Even within the sanctuary of the van and despite the protection of my mask, the constant flashes were giving me the beginnings of a migraine. Ian, on the other hand, had to practically sit on his hands to keep from hitting the button that controlled his window to greet his adoring fans with his middle finger.
Vendetta Nation (Enigma Black Trilogy #2) Page 18