The Calling

by Ashley Lynn Willis

  He grabbed the butter.

  Ten minutes later, after she had inhaled the entire sleeve of crackers, a quarter stick of butter, and two glasses of orange juice, she was ready to talk. Justin, however, was not. He’d taken a phone call and was pacing in the living room, agitation clear in his furrowed brow. When he finally hung up, he headed to the kitchen, his shoulders sagging.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  He rubbed the back of his neck as he sat down in his usual chair. “Lieutenant Dale’s pushing back my start date.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I don’t want to stare at these four walls for another week, obsessing over what happened yesterday.” He ran his hands through his disheveled hair and sighed. “Why are you sitting way over there?”

  Mandy squirmed in her seat. She hadn’t thought twice about taking the chair farthest from him, even though it’d been Mitch’s seat. “I didn’t even think about it.”

  “Oh, no? Then why won’t you look me in the eye?”

  She rubbed her temple, knowing the answer to that was charged with emotion.

  “How are we supposed to fix this if you refuse to talk to me?”

  She tried to look him directly in the eye but, when she met his gaze, she could still see a hint of the anger that had consumed him on the beach. The skin on the back of her neck prickled, and she averted her gaze to the table. “What happened out there, Justin?”

  “Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind?”

  They sat in uncomfortable silence while she worked up the nerve to speak. She could hear everything in that moment, from the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, to the hum of the refrigerator. As the dripping of the sink joined the chorus, she wasn’t sure she’d ever spit out her true thoughts. It’d hurt Justin too much.

  “Get it over with, Mandy.”

  She swallowed hard, the lump traveling down her throat nearly choking her. “Did you do it on purpose?”

  “He held a gun to your head, and don’t think for a second he wouldn’t have murdered you.”

  She looked up. “Is that a yes?”

  The hurt in his eyes overwhelmed her. “Do you really believe I’d kill someone?”

  “Two days ago, I would have said absolutely not. But after yesterday… I’ve never seen you so furious before.”

  Justin clenched his hands into tight fists, the veins on his forearms bulging. “He held a gun to your head, Mandy! I heard it fire! How could I not be furious?” He shook his head, his tense muscles loosening a notch. “I didn’t drown him on purpose. I couldn’t control myself. I tried… but…” His voice broke, and his lips mashed together as if he couldn’t continue.

  “You didn’t do it on purpose,” she whispered, but she still couldn’t look him in the eye.

  “It’s not enough.”

  No, it wasn’t, because she was never going to stop seeing Ty dead on that beach. And every time the image invaded her mind, she saw Justin, lording over the ocean, unable to control his anger.

  “It’s just another hurdle, Mandy.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “We’ll get through it.” The strain in his voice told her he wasn’t so sure.

  She nodded, wishing to God he was right. “I’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

  “Stay here, with me.” His eyes pleaded with her.

  “All of my things are at my parents’ house.”

  “I’ll go pick them up.” He stared at her long and hard, and she couldn’t answer, couldn’t tell him she didn’t want to stay there. But her silence was answer enough.

  Justin curled his shoulders forward, his forearms resting on the table, his head hanging low. He took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, and peered up at her with an expression haunted by misery. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  * * *

  Justin followed Mandy outside into the cool evening. He watched her blond hair gently swaying against her neck as she walked and the gentle slope of her waist curving to her full hips. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to touch what for the last six months had been his, but she’d only shy away, and the rejection would tear him into tiny, worthless pieces. In his worst nightmares, he’d never imagined their relationship would play out like this.

  When she stopped by her car door and reached for the handle, he panicked. They couldn’t part on these terms. With an outstretched hand, he held the door closed and, with his other hand, he pinned her to the car.

  She didn’t stop him as he lowered his face until their lips were inches apart. Her breath came hard and fast, brushing his cheek with its sweetness. She didn’t fight him when he pressed his mouth to hers.

  As she’d done a thousand times before, she rose up to meet him, but her lips were rigid, unsure. He kissed her harder, willing her to soften and open her mouth so he could explore her. Her heart pounded against his ribs, and she palmed his chest. At first, he refused to register her protest. His Mandy never denied him anything. When her whole body tensed, he pulled away.

  She looked him square in the eye, and hope gleamed in their depths. “Answer me one question.”

  “Anything,” he said softly.

  “If you had it to do over, would you have tried harder to save him?”

  “Of course, I would have.”

  His words didn’t change a thing. He knew the moment he looked at her and saw the pain still in her eyes. She’d seen a side to him that neither of them had known existed—uncontrollable with the power to kill. He felt her slipping away, her gaze falling to her hands, and her hope disappearing like a morning mist. When she turned her face away from him, staring toward the dark street, he knew it was over. Everything they’d built was demolished.

  “Ty wins,” he whispered, realizing for the first time in his life that he couldn’t fix something, didn’t even know how to try.

  She gazed up at him, her eyes overflowing with tears that broke his heart. “Yes, I guess he does.”

  Chapter 24

  Mandy stared at Ty’s waxen face as he lay in a gray casket, the hue matching his eyes. His mom had probably chosen the color for that very reason. The thought made her heart ache, especially when she imagined his mother staring into their steely depths, nursing him, rocking him, singing him to sleep. At one time, he’d been her sweet little boy, but for a reason unknown to everyone but Ty, he’d grown into a man whose decisions hurt everyone in his wake.

  She extended her arm and ran a fingertip across the cool metal just above the velvet lining. “How did it come to this?” she whispered, wondering if she’d played a role in his undoing.

  His mom appeared beside her, placing a hand on Mandy’s shoulder. Her hair was the same sandy blond shade as Ty’s, but her red, swollen eyes were a deeper blue, and her frame was tiny, made even more so by her hunched shoulders. Mandy had always wondered how such a hulking man could come from such a slight woman.

  “He loved you,” his mother said.

  No, he hadn’t. Those hands crossed on his chest had held a gun to her head and pulled a trigger that could have lodged a bullet in her brain. He’d wanted to possess her and, when he couldn’t, he’d rather she’d died. For a moment, she wondered if his evil side had always been dominant, held at bay by sheer willpower, or if he’d just snapped. She hoped for the latter, because the former tainted all memories of him.

  Ty’s mother brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “You were wonderful to him,” Mandy said, desperate to comfort her. “He couldn’t have had a more caring mother.”

  His mother folded her in warm arms, dampness brushing against Mandy’s cheek as she kissed next to her ear. “If I had a daughter, I’d have wanted her to be just like you.”

  Mandy shivered at the thought of how close she’d come. “I’ll drop by your house tonight before I leave town.”

  His mom let her go, her hands trembling. “I look forward to it.”

  Mandy nodded once, biting back tears, and left
Ty’s side forever.

  * * *

  “Want another glass of wine?” Kirsten asked as she strolled into Mandy’s kitchen.

  Mandy turned off the DVD and switched on the TV. “I’m fine.” For the last two hours, she’d been wallowing in wine and a chick flick that Kirsten had brought over.

  Kirsten poured a glass for herself, filling the goblet with a butter-colored chardonnay. “I brought some girlie porn, too, if you want to watch that.” She giggled, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “It even has a story line, though the acting’s god-awful.”

  Mandy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Don’t you have a date in an hour?”

  She shrugged. “I can cancel.”

  No way was Mandy letting Kirsten cancel on her newest man. He was an accountant who adored Kirsten. For the first time that Mandy could remember, Kirsten genuinely seemed to adore a man back. “Don’t do that. I like Peter. He’s good for you.”

  “I know.” Kirsten’s eyes sparkled. “I haven’t even slept with him yet.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re sure you like him?”

  “A lot.” Kirsten sat beside her on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. “Maybe that’s why I’m taking my time.”

  Mandy was about to delve into how proud she was of Kirsten, but her phone vibrated, pulling her attention away. She glanced down to see an incoming text from Justin. She hadn’t talked to him in the two days since she’d come home from Ty’s funeral, and a cloud of guilt settled over her head.

  How are you?

  Okay. You?

  Been better. Can I see you tomorrow?

  Lori’s asked me to visit her in Denver. I’m leaving tomorrow.

  You’re flying up there for a few days?

  Driving.

  How long will you be gone?

  A week, maybe two.

  She waited for Justin to text back, but her screen stayed blank.

  “Who are you texting?” Kirsten asked, while she hunted for something to watch on TV.

  “Justin.” Mandy startled when her phone rang. She answered it quickly. “Hello?

  “Christ, Mandy. It’s been a week since Ty died. We need time to work through this, and instead you’re taking off.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I just want some time to clear my head.”

  He didn’t speak for several seconds, and the distance between them seemed to grow into a chasm. “You’ve made up your mind about us, haven’t you?” His voice sounded small, like a child’s.

  Not wanting to have this conversation in front of Kirsten, she walked into her bedroom, the goblet still in her hand, and closed the door. “No, I haven’t.”

  “If that were true, you’d stay here and try to work things out.”

  “Just because I’m visiting Lori, it doesn’t mean we’re breaking up.”

  “You’re running from me. If that’s not breaking up, I don’t know what is.”

  She downed the contents of her wine glass, the dry wine sharp on her tongue. “It’s only a few weeks.”

  “In Colorado, a thousand miles away.”

  “I don’t want to break up.” The thought of living without Justin made her stomach churn and her heart pound faster, but if she couldn’t even make herself call him after she came back from Miami, what did that say about their future? “I love you,” she whispered.

  “But you can’t forgive me for what happened on the beach.”

  She shook her head, wishing desperately she could touch him, find some way to connect with him. “That’s not true.”

  “It is true. You want to know why I’m so certain?”

  “Why?” she asked, the word nearly sticking in her throat.

  “Because I can’t forgive myself, either.”

  The pain in his voice was too much, and she’d have given anything to go back in time, to skip town with Justin the week Ty had lost it, to have been out of the line of fire. He didn’t deserve what had happened, and not being able to forgive himself had to be a living hell. Actually, she knew it was a living hell, because every time she saw Justin, or heard his voice, the image of Ty’s dead body filled her mind. Even the sound of the rushing water seemed to reverberate in her ears. She was living her own hell, and she wasn’t even the one who’d killed Ty. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  “There has to be a way to get through this.”

  “Believe me, if there was, I would have thought of it already.” He sighed deeply, and she could hear the defeat in his raspy breath. “You don’t need to call me when you get back from Denver. There’s no point.”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Slowly, painfully, she realized there really was no reason to call him… ever again.

  Justin hung up without another word, and she didn’t blame him for not saying goodbye. The word was too painful, too final.

  Dazed, she headed back to the living room.

  “You okay?” Kirsten asked.

  She plopped down next to Kirsten on the couch. “No.” Though she realized this was how all relationships ended, in a fiery crash of hurt, pain and disbelief, the knowledge did nothing to ease her grief.

  Kirsten patted her knee. “I’ll get you that second glass of wine.”

  Mandy looked down at her empty goblet. “It’s more like my third.”

  “I brought another bottle.”

  “Good thing,” Mandy whispered, because she was going to need it.

  Chapter 25

  Mandy walked through Lori’s apartment and surveyed the taupe couch and well-worn pine end tables. A small pine kitchen table with white legs adorned the eating area. Even the kitchen cabinets were pine. The cozy rooms and furnishings reminded her of a cottage, all homey and lived-in.

  Lori grinned. “You like it?”

  “It feels like a mountain hideaway.”

  “I know! It’s so much fun!” She lugged a heavy piece of Mandy’s luggage down the hall. “Your room’s back here. I call it the winter princess palace.”

  Mandy stepped into the room and chuckled. “Fitting.” The furniture was all white—white wrought-iron headboard, white dresser, white nightstand. Given all the snow outside, white wouldn’t have been her first choice, but for a week, it was perfect. “I love it.”

  “Great! Now let’s plan a skiing excursion.”

  “Seriously?

  “You said you wanted to get your mind off your woes. Nothing’s going to work better than plummeting down a mountain, head over heels.”

  “If I don’t end up dead.”

  “I’m a nurse. I can patch you up.”

  Mandy smiled, the hollowness she’d been enduring all week easing. “Death by mountain. I can think of worse ways to die.” Much worse.

  * * *

  Justin pulled up to his house after a long day of running training missions with Ty’s replacement. In his driveway sat his dad’s black Chevy Silverado. He cursed under his breath. All he wanted was a hot shower, leftover Chinese, and a warm bed, minus the chitchat with Pops.

  He parked in the garage and grabbed his duffel from the passenger seat. His bones creaked as he dragged himself from the car. For the last week, he’d picked up every overnight shift he could, hoping his job would give him a distraction from his messed-up personal life. It didn’t work. It only made him more tired, since he’d probably slept only three hours all weekend.

  Justin strode inside his house, tossed his keys on the entry table, and dropped his duffel on the tile floor by the wall. “Dad?” No answer. He headed to the kitchen where the scent of cooking steaks wafted in the air. Through the glass sliding door, he saw his dad taking two T-bones off the grill.

  Mitch plated them, along with two potatoes wrapped in foil, and slid the door open with his elbow. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  He hadn’t been hungry since Mandy had left, but the smoky smell of sizzling meat made his mouth water. He strode to the fridge and pulled out two beers
. “Since when did my place become your place?”

  “I figured after the temper tantrum you threw on the beach, your locks would’ve been changed.” He set the plates on the table and headed to the fridge. “Since they weren’t, I took that as an invitation to come in.”

  Justin popped the tops off the beers before setting them next to the plates. “I told you to go back to Galveston where you belong. What part of ‘get lost’ didn’t you understand?”

  “The part where I’m grumpy when I can’t sleep.” Mitch sighed deeply as he set butter and sour cream on the table. “We never finished our conversation.”

  They both sat down and immediately cut into their steaks. Justin took a bite, savoring the hint of charcoal and salt. Maybe he could forgive his dad for dropping in unannounced, just this once. “No one makes a steak like you.”

  “It’s a gift.” His dad studied him long and hard. “You look like hell.”

  “That’s what happens when the woman you want to marry can’t get far enough away from you.”

  “Mandy left?”

  “She’s in Colorado.”

  “She coming back?”

  “Yeah, but not for me.”

  Mitch chewed thoughtfully. “I liked that girl.”

  “So did I.” Justin grabbed the top of the wrapped potato. The foil burned his fingertips, and he winced, quickly pressing them against his cold beer for relief.

  “Those potatoes are hot,” his dad said.

  “Thanks for warning me.”

  “You’re a wise-ass.”

  “I’ve been called worse.” He tilted his head. “Why are you here, Pops?”

  “Well, Mandy asked me—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Mandy,” Justin said, a little harsher than he’d intended.

  “Good. I ain’t come here to chat about your woman woes.” He pointed his steak knife at Justin. “Don’t interrupt me ’til I’m done.”

  “Sure, Pops.”