Wayward Dreams

by Gail McFarland

  Alin slid his hand along the tender ruin left by Bianca’s high heeled shoe. “She hit me with something; burns like a bitch, too…” He touched the wound and sucked at his teeth before he finally looked up. “Where’s Gene and Dancer?”

  “Where do you think?” Payne snapped. “They ran like rats off a sinking ship.” This was all he needed at the end of what was shaping up to be a really bad day.

  Alin looked at the thickly smoldering pile of junk in the middle of the storeroom floor. It was more greasy smoke than fire and heat. Planting his elbows on his knees, Alin twisted his lips and heaved a sigh as he stared at the smoke. When Payne spoke, his eyes moved to him. “What?”

  “I asked, why. The man accused you, put you right out on Front Street, and you didn’t even deny it. Why?” Kneeling beside their poor excuse for an arson attempt, KPayne’s eyes were dark and the bruises on his face stood out in stark contrast to the usual smoothness of his complexion. “It was all true, wasn’t it? Thought you were my dog; turns out, you’re Mann’s brother. Been in his pocket all along.” He cocked his head and sighed. “You know, my pops always says that all a man’s got is his good name, and you ain’t even got that.”

  “You knew my name, I never hid it from you. You never asked ’cause you didn’t want to know. Either that or you’re as stupid as Buoy thinks you are.” Alin’s short grunt was almost enough to pass for humor. “Life’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

  “So, why?”

  Rocked back in the chair, Alin swiped a hand over his mouth. It came away striped with his blood—and now KPayne wanted to play Twenty Questions. “Know how you wanted out from under your family? Wanted somethin’ for your own? Well, me, too, only I don’t come from money like you. And as for you thinking I’m your dog…that, too.” He stood and pulled at his pants. “She’s gone, left the front door open. We might as well be up out of here ‘fore somebody calls the cops.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Payne rose from his spot by the window, thinking about what a good name really meant. And his pops had another saying: ‘Hard head, soft behind.’ Maybe his father was right. Maybe he knows more than I give him credit for. He gave Harry a final glance, thought he saw him move—a little. Least I’m not a murderer, he told himself. Time to cut my losses. Bianca was gone, and so was his chance to stop Mann in his tracks. Playing big-time with DaggerIn was pretty much a lost cause. He sighed. So what can you do?

  He followed Alin out of the storeroom. Alin was right, life was a bitch, but maybe that wasn’t an altogether bad thing.

  “Hey, Alin?”

  “Yeah, what?” He slowed his step and turned his head into the right cross that broke his jaw. Eyes stretched in surprise, his hand moved toward his pocket, but Payne was faster. His right hand fell back and he threw a left hook that left Alin unconscious on the floor, with the gun he’d never had a chance to use laying inches from his fingers.

  The gun was never a part of the plan. Payne blinked and suffered a moment of clarity. The gun was never a part of my plan. And he thought of another of his father’s favorite sayings: Fail to plan; plan to fail.

  Kicking the gun away, Payne hissed hot breath between his teeth when his hand moved and pain ran up his arm. A fast look at his rapidly swelling knuckles made him grit his teeth—probably broken. Looking down at Alin, glad he didn’t get up, Kelvin squeezed out the tears threatening his vision and swiped at his face with his arm. “Looks like I’m not the only one getting a lesson today. Life may be a bitch, but so is payback.”

  Kelvin Michael Payne stepped over Alin Mann and walked straight through the building and out the front door. By the time he scaled the brick wall and crossed the parking lot, his hand was throbbing and he felt a little sick. Crossing the street to his Expedition, he heard sirens in the distance. Maybe some good might come out of this yet…With his brother found on the scene and definitely implicated in attempted arson and kidnapping, maybe a murder, Buoy Mann would be tied up for a while—if family meant anything to him, and if he loved his brother.

  Turning his key in the ignition, Payne frowned down at his swollen hand and wondered what his father would say when he told him that he was going to apply to grad school. Maybe in California or Washington State, but definitely far away from Atlanta.

  CHAPTER 21

  With both hands pressed to her lips, Bianca watched Alin fall to the floor inches away from where she crouched in the kitchen. Her eyes widened when he snorted and his eyes met hers, went dim, then closed completely. She watched KPayne grimace with pain when he shook his hand before tucking it into his armpit and stepping over Alin. Waiting for the sound of his steps to fade seemed to take forever.

  Oh, Lord. She duck walked back across the kitchen, unsure of how she was going to keep Alin on the floor, but there had to be something in here to tie a man up with. She remembered the boxes and strapping tape she and the sisters used when they packed the Neiman’s order. Strapping tape was strong. She stood and hurried to the sewing room to find it.

  Alin was snoring when she came back around the corner with the roll of tape and scissors. Is that normal? She didn’t know, but she meant to make sure he wouldn’t follow her. Beginning with his ankles, she wrapped the tape tightly, then she went for his hands and wrists, looping the tape through his feet and bowing his long body. She gave the tape a tug and it held tight, even as she considered slapping a strip of tape across his mouth, but with the way his jaw hung low and bulging, it looked too painful. Leaving the tape, she took the scissors with her and headed for the smoky back stockroom to look for Harry.

  She knew the way, but she was completely unprepared for the angry smoke rising from the heap of cloth and boxes piled near the center of the room. Maybe there’s something wet in there…She saw no flames and felt little heat, but the acrid smoke rolled to the ceiling and spread down and along the walls before billowing out through the open window. Bianca tried to make sense of what she was looking at before she called out his name.

  When Harry didn’t answer, she thought of his Audi, still parked out in front of the warehouse. She’d run all over this damned warehouse and never passed him. This had to be where Harry was.

  Backing away from the door, she turned back to the kitchenette and found the light switch. Got to be a fire extinguisher in here. She ripped open drawers and cabinets, not sure of where they kept the fire extinguisher. She pulled open more cabinets and found the small red canister under the sink. It took her two tries to free it, but she did.

  Alin’s eyes opened and he moaned as she stepped over him, but she didn’t stop her barefooted run back to the storeroom. Flipping the canister upside down, she worked the metal pin free and was thrown hard against the wall when the pressurized foam shot out and around her. Struggling, she managed to grab the swinging nozzle and aim it at the base of the smoke. Hoping for the best, she watched the foam darken and the smoke thicken. Throwing her arm across her face and squinting, she dropped the empty fire extinguisher and stepped deeper into the room.

  Wishing the smoke had risen higher, she felt along the wall for a light switch. In the distance, she thought she could hear sirens approaching. Maybe the panic button worked…But she didn’t want to slow her search. They’ll find me, if they’re coming here. I have to find Harry. Her desperate fingers scrabbled along the gritty wall, still searching for a light switch.

  When she ripped the skin of both palms against the brick walls, she turned to try the other direction. I know there’s a light in here; I’ve seen it. She coughed into the dirty sleeve of her jacket and tried to remember. It wasn’t a wall switch. It was one of those where you pull the cord. It was overhead. Still coughing, she took a step away from the wall and raised her arm, searching for the cord.

  On her toes, she lost her balance and screamed when her bare foot came down on shards of plastic and slid from under her, pitching her to the floor. Forgetting the light, moving on her hands and knees, she swept the floor around her. When she found the crushed and cracked lump of
plastic, she gasped and choked on lowering smoke. Her fingers pressed the mangled bit of technology. Harry’s phone.

  “Aw, Harry…where are you?”

  On the floor, he heard her voice, but not her words. She sounded scared and panicky. He wasn’t sure, he might have coughed, but his lungs burned…

  The cough was tiny, almost a whimper, but Bianca heard it and her heart lurched. Arm still across her face, eyes watering, Bianca coughed into the bend of her elbow and tried to see. Smoke boiled lower, rolling across the floor, and she fought the urge to run. Harry is in here and I can’t leave him…Coughing, she thought she heard the sudden expulsion of air and her head jerked in the direction of the sound.

  Trying to stay under the smoke, she followed the sound, and gasped with relief when her hand fell against his foot. The gasp cost her precious oxygen and left her gagging. But I found him!

  Sprawled and unconscious, he was beautiful to her. Retching, she swiped tears from her eyes and pulled at his pants leg and then his shirt. When she reached his face, she saw the blood smearing his cheek and forehead, but he was here and alive. Bianca brought her cheek to his and wrapped her arms around him.

  Oh, God, he’s not breathing…

  Her breath was warm and moist, even in the midst of the thick smoke, but when she brought her cheek to his, she felt nothing from Harry. How long…She tried to remember the words from some long ago CPR class. How long can he go without breathing? She looked into the smoke, touched the blood on his face, and wondered. In here with all this smoke, and he’s hurt…You’re not supposed to move people when they’re hurt, but in here? CPR, is that right? Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered hearing about Rescue Breathing. Different from CPR, or the same? Bianca dropped her cheek to Harry’s lips and felt nothing. Please don’t let me be wrong. Afraid, she rolled him to his back and felt for a pulse—nothing.

  Watching his chest, she sealed her mouth to his. Sharing her breath, she lost thought as Harry’s chest rose and fell. Two breaths and she moved to his chest for compressions. Kneeling beside him, she ignored the tears spattering his shirt front and pumped, pushing down on the thick wall of muscle guarding his heart. Her arms were tired, and he might have moaned, but she covered his mouth again, sharing precious air. Harry, please. A second breath left her dizzy and desperate. “Don’t you die on me, Harry. I’ll hate you forever if you do.”

  On the floor in that crummy little storeroom, Bianca looked at him again and swore she wouldn’t surrender her fight for this man. Knowing the truth in the lie she’d just whispered, she coughed and tried to gather air before covering his mouth with hers. “I can’t lose you now, because I can’t live without you.”

  He opened his eyes and gasped, clutching at her when she pressed her mouth to his. Stunned, she pulled back, nearly blinded by smoke and tears.

  “Why am I on the floor?” His arms moved, holding tight, then loosening when he moaned and fell back in pain.

  “In here,” the man yelled. Filling the door, wearing his dark, yellow-banded uniform, the firefighter pushed his helmet back and Bianca heard his booted foot crush what remained of Harry’s phone as he came toward them.

  * * *

  Bianca drifted in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness at the side of Harry’s bed. Her fingers gently closed on his, and she sighed softly. His hand was warm and dry, firm and real as she opened her eyes to look at hm. He was sleeping. The rise and fall of his chest and the soft burr of his breathing was reassuring, enough to keep her sitting there watching him. She wondered how long it would take to forget the picture of him lying on the warehouse floor.

  Not worth thinking about, she promised herself, squeezing his fingers. Pushing the image away, she looked at him and sighed. His close-cropped hair was a dark cap above the white bandage on his head. Lashes, long and dark, swept along the high, carved planes of his cheek. Her finger traced his lips and she smiled. Even sleeping, the man looked delicious. Propped on pillows, sleeping with his head bandaged, he touched her in ways she’d never imagined.

  Afraid to look away from him, watching him breathe, she remembered putting her mouth to his and breathing for him. The fireman, the doctor in the emergency room, and even the nurse who had looked in on them, all said she’d saved his life. She wondered if that was enough to pay for the life she’d lived before him, and then she remembered what Harry said about the past being the past, and their future being all-important. She hoped he meant what he said; that it was true and indelible.

  Sliding just a little closer, she brought herself close enough to brush his lips with hers; they were soft and firm and perfect. She sighed and did it again. “Anata-nashi-ja ikirare-nai.“

  “I can’t live without you, either,” Harry whispered, opening his eyes.

  Breath and surprise quivered through her and Bianca thought she was going to bawl like a baby. Maybe it was magic, or even fate; maybe she was simply born to love him, but what she saw in his almond eyes tortured and thrilled her soul. He has a head injury. What if he thinks I’m somebody else?

  “Bianca.” Her name fell from his lips like the blessing of a saint, and her heart stopped.

  “Bianca?” Without waiting, Julia and Akemi pushed the door wider and stepped into the hospital room. Julia looked from her sister to Harry and realized what they’d almost walked in on. “The nurse said it was okay.”

  “Actually,” Kemi grinned, “the nurse said you were with your wife.”

  Julia walked closer. “She also said your wife pretty much saved your life. The fireman said you gave him CPR.”

  Confused, Harry looked at the people around his bed. “What fireman?”

  “When you didn’t call back,” Julia rattled on, “I called Akemi, and apparently, there was an arson attempt in the warehouse, and…”

  Kemi raised a hand to stop Julia. “We got to that warehouse about five minutes behind your guys and the fire department. It seemed like the place was empty, but the smoke…”

  Julia suddenly blinked hard, batting away the threat of tears. “They said that calling the fire department before the phone lines were cut, they said…It probably saved your lives.”

  Kemi and Julia’s words stumbled over each other, and then Akemi looked at Bianca and found himself laughing. “The police found that man you wrapped up in tape—left him looking like the loser in a roping contest. He told everyone Bianca lost her mind and punched him in the face.”

  Harry turned his head and would have cried out, but the look on Bianca’s face was worth his silence. “You punched a man in the face?”

  “Not really, but I would have.” Her face was fierce, her fingers tender as she probed his bruises. “I did hit him with my shoes, though, and I tied him up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he hurt you, Harry.” Bianca looked at him as though he should have known the obvious answer. “Because you were in that storeroom, and I was afraid for you. Because you told me I could trust you. You told me you loved me, and I believe you. Because you told me Japan is beautiful, and I fully expect you to show it to me.”

  “Would you really like to see Japan? Maybe…” Conviction crossed Harry’s face. “How about for our honeymoon?

  She took it in stride. “I could do a honeymoon.”

  “You have to get married first,” Julia pointed out. “I didn’t hear a proposal.”

  Bianca silenced her sister with her eyes before she turned back to Harry. “I could do married—if you asked me to marry you.”

  “I’m asking.”

  “I always dreamed of a handsome man going down on one knee…So, if I marry you, what do I have to look forward to?” She crossed her arms looked at him, but her heart lurched when her eyes fell on the watch AJ had given her. The second hand swept the watch face, and she looked at Harry, then back to the watch. “Twenty seconds or less, please. Go.”

  “You’re very special, you know that…” Why bother? If she needed this game, he could give it to her. “Okay, I adm
it that I think it’s important to be a good lover, and I’ll give you my best effort. But I’m also going to buy roses, massage your body, and keep you safe and warm. I’ll be there for you every night, and I’ll talk to you when we’re apart.” Bianca’s hazel eyes came up and Harry nearly drowned.

  “I’ve got a life plan for us, Bianca. I’m going to be there to hold your hand and give you hugs when you’re feeling down. I know you’ll need time for yourself, but I’ll be there to share your goals and your dreams. I’m going to be there to build a family and dreams with you; I’ll even bring the ice cream and feed you from my spoon, just to make you laugh and hear that funny little sound you make.”

  “Aw, Harry…”

  “But before we get to all of that, I want to play soft music and turn off the lights, and dance slowly. I want to sing with you for the rest of my life and know it’s what you want, too.”

  “That was more than twenty seconds, Harry.”

  “Then I guess that means we’ll have to stay married for a long time.”

  “I guess I’ll have to take you up on your offer and marry you.”

  Julia’s breath whooshed out in surprise. “Just like that?”

  “No greater love,” Akemi whispered.

  “Shut up.” Exasperated, Julia turned from Kemi and jabbed a finger at her sister. “I forbid you to do this; this is like Stockholm Syndrome or something. You’ve been through a life-threatening experience, now you want to get married. There has to be another way.”

  Kemi’s shoulder pushed against her, and leaning, he brought his lips close to her ear. “I thought this was what we wanted, Julia.” He raised his brows and waited.

  “Well, it is, but they need some time…And we need time to plan a wedding…”