Night Visions

by Ariana Dupre

  "It's none of my business if Angie has a man in the house.” Jared picked up a two by four they had just cut.

  "Looked more like an overgrown boy to me."

  Stacking the lumber on the trailer, Jared turned to Burt. “It's not my concern, nor yours. You just stick to running the crew. Now let's finish this job. The sooner, the better."

  "Yes, sir.” Burt picked up the next piece of wood. The Boss had it bad for Angie, even if he didn't know it himself yet.

  A few minutes later, a loud clank made Burt look up from the table saw. Jared was throwing, not stacking, the wood. Glancing at the house, Burt figured he knew why.

  Angie stood in front of the window, liplocked with the guy she'd invited inside.

  Burt smiled when she pushed him away and slapped his face. She was a feisty one, that Angie.

  But the Boss had looked away. He'd missed the most important part.

  The hum of the table saw slowed and then stopped.

  "What are you doing, Burt? We have four more stacks to cut."

  Burt lifted his cap off his head and mopped his face with a red bandanna. “I'm an old man, Mr. Maxwell, and in this heat, I have to take time to cool off now and then.” He narrowed his blue eyes at Jared. “Seems to me that you should do the same,” he said, shoving the cloth in his hip pocket. “I'm gonna get a drink of water and be back in fifteen minutes. If you don't need a break, why don't you go into the house and check the measurements on that last doorframe we need to replace."

  "All right, but be back in fifteen, we have to finish today. I'll go take the measurements,” he said; then started across the yard.

  "Hey, Boss. You're gonna need this.” Burt tossed him the measuring tape. He grinned as Jared caught it.

  "Thanks,” Jared muttered, walking quickly toward the house.

  "Yeah, I'll just bet you take some measurements.” Burt chuckled. “At least I got you to go check it out.” He reached down to pick up the water bottle he'd sat by the table saw earlier. He took a long draught of the cool liquid then went back to work.

  * * * *

  "What is the matter with you, Eddie?” Angie, glaring at him from across the room, gently touched her bruised lips.

  "Come on, Angie, you've teased me for years."

  What? Angie almost couldn't believe her ears. Teased Eddie? How?

  "Eddie...” she began but, seeing the fury and agony flashing across his oval face, she bit back her retort.

  Eddie's face was red. “Angie, I...” He stopped, as if lost for words. “I ... I told myself I had to come here today and speak to you.” Taking a red bandanna from his pocket he nervously wrapped it around one palm. “This isn't easy, Angie.” Suddenly, the expression on his face hardened and his hands stilled. “But you know, Angie, you've always known. It's you that's making it difficult,” he said with a calm forcefulness.

  "What?” she responded. “What have I always known? Eddie, please..."

  "Ah, there you go again.” The anger was back. “Always teasing me. You know that I love you. That's what you know!” Eddie's voice was an anguished snarl, and Angie stared at him in horror.

  He approached her, unwrapping the bandanna, and captured her hand with his. She stood motionless, unable to imagine what was coming next.

  When Eddie fell down on one knee, and begged, “Angie, will you marry me? I can't live without you,” she had to will herself not to run out of the room.

  "Eddie!” she cried. “What in the world are you talking about?” Pulling her hand away, she scooted toward the couch.

  Eddie had never shown the slightest romantic interest in her. Or had he? They used to share their secret crushes on others, their pains, hopes and dreams.

  Had Eddie taken their friendship all wrong?

  "Eddie, wait a minute,” she said, her mind racing. “I thought you knew that we were just friends. I've never given you any reason to think otherwise, as far as I know. We grew up together, for goodness sake!” Angie paced the floor, bewildered.

  She turned to him. “What do you mean you want to marry me? Damn it, Eddie! You've never even hinted before today that you had feelings for me."

  To her great confusion, Eddie crossed the floor and enfolded her in his large arms. She went as still as a chipmunk caught in an eagle's gaze. What next?

  "Angie,” Eddie murmured into her hair, “I'm leaving in three days to go to Egypt. Won't you come with me?"

  Huh? Angie felt as if she'd fallen into some other dimension. She said nothing, and didn't move, rigid in Eddie's embrace.

  "After all we've shared through the years,” he said, pulling back and looking into her eyes, “you didn't know? I've always loved you, Angie. Since I started grad school, I've thought a lot about what I'm going to do with my life.” He kissed her forehead. “And the one thing I'm sure of is that I want you in it. Please, Angie, say you'll marry me."

  Eddie pressed his lips to hers again, and Angie thrust her arms between their chests, struggling to break free.

  Suddenly, Eddie hit the floor—hard. When he landed a key ring with a small black remote fell out of his pocket.

  "If you ever come near the lady again, I'll have you arrested,” a low growl threatened. “Now get out before I kill you."

  Eddie swiped up the remote, touched his lip and saw that blood covered his fingertips. He looked at the man who'd just punched him, then at Angie. Jumping up he lunged at Jared, fury raging across his features. “I'll kill you!"

  Angie leaped between the two men.

  "No! Stop it! Just go, Eddie,” Angie screamed, fighting back tears. “In a matter of minutes you have ruined the one friendship I valued most in this entire world. I loved you as a friend, Eddie. The best friend I ever had...” She gently pressed her palms against his chest, memories of shared experiences crowding into her mind.

  "Angie, don't do this."

  "Eddie, don't you do this,” she shouted, stepping away.

  Jared, Angie noticed, was clenching his fists and advancing toward Eddie who was the bigger of the two.

  She grabbed Jared's arm to stop him, worried that if they fought he might get hurt. Angie turned once again to Eddie. “Just leave, Eddie. Please. This is too much for me. I can't handle it. Don't force me to tell Alan what happened today."

  "You'll regret this, Angie."

  She was shocked to see his scowl, to hear the menace in his voice.

  "Eddie, what's happened to you?” she asked.

  "Nothing's happened to me, Angie,” he snarled. “You're just a cruel witch, that's all. And one of these days you'll regret throwing my love away, you'll see.” He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  Jared took a step toward Angie. “Are you all right?” he asked gently, taking her hands to examine her arms. “Damn him! Look what he did to you. Who was that guy anyway?"

  Angie looked at the red marks darkening her skin. She licked her swollen, bruised lips. “Alan Harland's nephew,” she said faintly. “We grew up together."

  "And now he thinks he owns you?"

  Angie gazed up at Jared. His eyes were locked on her lips. Did he see Eddie kiss me? “He's got some crazy notion that he loves me and wants to marry me. But I've never given him any reason to think that we're more than friends.” The whole ordeal made her feel weak. A shiver ran through her body. Without thinking, she rested her forehead against Jared's chest.

  "His mother is crazy,” she said. “Really crazy. Schizophrenic. Now I'm wondering if Eddie isn't, too. He's never acted like this before.” She looked up. “How awful, Jared. How sad and awful."

  "It's over now,” he whispered. Encircling her within his arms, he drew her close.

  Jared's embrace was so comforting, so warm. For the first time since they'd met, Angie felt completely safe with him. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else but in his arms right now. She bent her head into his chest again.

  "Maybe, maybe not,” she murmured. “If he does have his mother's disease, and if he isn't properly diag
nosed and medicated, he could do anything."

  Jared continued to hold her tightly, stroking her back with one palm. When the small sobs came he lifted her chin up. Angie saw his surprised look at the tears streaming down her face.

  "Angie?"

  "I'm sorry. But it's just too much. He was my friend—a really close friend. I just hate to see him like this,” she said. She backed out of Jared's embrace, and wiped her cheeks with her fingertips. “Plus I'm scared. I've seen his mom in one of her rages. She was terrifying. Eddie used to tell me about them, too. About what she did to him when she was ill. I feel so sorry for him.” She looked down as Jared gently took one of her hands in his.

  "Are you okay?” he asked.

  She gave him a little smile. “I'll be fine. Honest. I think I should go and freshen up now."

  "I'll be here if you need me."

  "Thanks,” she said, waving him off, “but I'm really okay. Go back to work."

  Jared watched her go upstairs then sat on the couch and took a deep breath. He'd never known a man could feel so protective of a woman or experienced it himself until now. He would have killed Eddie to defend Angie.

  I'll wait for her to come back down. By God, I'll wait until the end of time for her.

  * * * *

  Angie paced over her bedroom floor, tears once again streaming down her cheeks. Oh, God, Eddie had frightened and upset her. He'd had the same look in his eyes that she'd seen in his mother's right before she deliberately drove her car into the neighbor's house.

  But her tears weren't just for her lost friendship. They were also for her lost heart. She flopped down in the overstuffed winged back chair, and dried her face with the neckline of her shirt.

  It had hit her, while leaning against Jared's muscular chest, feeling and hearing his heartbeat, that this was what she'd been longing for. A strong man's arms, a kind man's acceptance without question, without criticism, without judgment. It was in that moment that she knew she had lost her heart. Lost it to love.

  Love for Jared Maxwell.

  She went to the window to look for him but Burt still worked alone. She turned, leaned her back against the wall and let the tears flow once again, before sinking to the floor and putting her head on her knees.

  Oh God. What am I going to do? She knew what she wanted, but how could she want it? It was madness, straight and true. Death at the hands of the one she loved. Could it be any worse?

  "Angie, for God's sake, what's wrong?"

  Obviously, it could.

  She looked up as Jared closed and locked the door behind him. He sure has a habit of locking doors, she thought, as she struggled to get her emotions under control.

  Before she could answer, Jared lifted her from the floor and sat her on the bed. “He hurt you, didn't he?"

  She shook her head, “No."

  "Then what is it?” he said softly. “Are you in love with him?"

  "Oh, good lord.” She sniffed. “No, I don't love him. I only thought of him as a friend."

  "Then why are you crying like this?"

  Breathing deeply, Angie wiped away the last of her tears; then looked Jared straight in the eye. What would it hurt? The situation couldn't get much worse.

  "Mr. Maxwell,” she said, “have you ever wanted something and not known what it was until it smacked you in the face? Then, in that very same instant, known that what you desired was the one thing in the world that you could never, ever, have?"

  "I can't say that I have, Angelina.” Jared sat beside her, tucked her dark tresses back behind her ear.

  She turned away from him, aching from hopeless, impossible love.

  Jared touched her chin, turned her face to his. “What is it that you want and can't have?"

  You. It's you! Her mind screamed the words but her mouth only parted slightly. “It doesn't matter,” she said softly. “It's just the realization hit me hard. I'll be okay."

  She rubbed her arm and Jared examined it more closely. “Bastard! Look what he did to you."

  Angie looked at the deep blue marks marring her flesh. “They're just bruises,” she said.

  She noticed then that Jared's forehead was creased with worry. Oh no. Here she was carrying on about herself when he had something else on his mind.

  "What's wrong? Jared, tell me."

  "Angie...” He ran his hand through his hair. “I'm not sure this is the right time."

  "Oh, I think it is, Mr. Maxwell. If you know something, spill it. After all, you let me gush like a blubbering idiot."

  Jared reached into his shirt pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. “I went outside to make sure Eddie really left and found this on the front porch."

  She took the paper from his hand and opened it.

  * * * *

  Know that I'm watching and waiting. You had better look over your shoulder, Angie

  Benton ... when you least expect it I will have you for my very own.

  * * * *

  She stood and moved away, sudden suspicion flaring within her. “Did you write this?"

  "No. Why would you think I wrote it?” Jared's tone bordered on indignant.

  Angie turned to him. “This letter sounds like it's about sex. After all your innuendos, can you blame me for wondering?"

  He raised his eyebrows, reached over and took her hand, gently leading her back to the bed. “As much as I'd like that, I don't need to leave you a note when I can do this."

  He brushed his lips lightly against hers. Without hesitation, Angie wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her body against the hard planes of his chest.

  Then she pushed him to the bed, and kissed him passionately. His masculine scent surrounding her, enjoying the feel of him beneath her, she nibbled his lips, tasted him. For the first time in her life she wanted more—much, much more.

  Jared rolled her over, his lips moved from her mouth to her neck and back again. Then he broke the kiss, “I don't think a note could ever say that, now could it?"

  Angie took a deep breath. “Nope.” She stared up at him. “No way."

  He sat up, surprising her, then pulled her to a sitting position beside him on the edge of the bed. “I think Eddie wrote that note. I'm amazed you didn't think so, too. He was mad as hell because you rejected him.” His voice was cold.

  Well, I guess the moment is over, Angie thought. And I've made quite the fool of myself.

  But Jared held her fingers between his, then raised them to his lips and kissed each tip.

  She couldn't take anymore. The emotions were too strong. Pulling her hand away, she stood up then walked to the dresser. “It does make sense,” she said coolly. “I'm sorry for accusing you, Jared.” Her heart was beating so loudly she was surprised he couldn't hear it. “I think we should give the note to Trevor, just in case."

  "Don't worry about it. Eddie's obsessed. I'll call the sheriff's department, fill Oakley in and ask him to come by to pick up the note."

  "Jared, it's been a rough morning.” She looked at him for a few silent moments, assessing the situation. “I'm emotionally wiped out. Would you mind if I stayed here while you called?"

  The concern in his eyes belied the smile he gave her. “Of course not. Try to get some rest, Angie."

  "Okay,” she said.

  He got up and unlocked the door.

  "Jared?” Angie asked.

  "Yeah?” He looked back at her.

  "Next time, ask before you enter my room."

  He grinned. “Yes, Ma'am."

  The door clicked shut behind him.

  Anger pushed Jared through the rest of his day. He imagined every possible way he could make Eddie Harland pay for hurting Angie.

  When, later that morning, Burt told him that he'd seen Angie smack the daylights out of Eddie, Jared smiled, and thanked him for letting him know. And when Burt added that he was proud of Angie, that Martha had raised the girl right, Jared could only agree. But when he said Angie was a handful, Jared wasn't sure how to react. Burt had laughed
as if he knew something Jared didn't.

  The woman drove him crazy.

  Angie deserved something special after all she'd been through. He would make sure she got it.

  * * * *

  Later that afternoon, Angie dropped several empty boxes on the library floor, and scanned the room. Once the books were stored, the crew could replace the shelves.

  Taking a large box over to the wall, she began pulling books and packing them. A wide variety of literature passed through her hands—Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, poetry, even woodworking manuals.

  She'd just removed the last volumes from a bottom shelf when a loose back panel caught her attention.

  She got down on her hands and knees to peer at it.

  Something was back there.

  Working her fingers behind the loose board, she tugged. It moved a half-inch, revealing the edge of a book. She tugged again. A nail squeaked.

  Why would anyone hide a book behind a board?

  Angie braced her feet against the wall, reached in and worked the length of her fingers behind the plank.

  Please don't let spiders live back there.

  She took a deep breath and pulled hard. Nothing.

  Then, jerking the board with all her might, her hands slipped and she fell flat on her back.

  Groaning she propped herself up on her elbows. “Yes!” The board had loosened half way. Leaning forward, she pulled on the loose board with her left hand, grabbed the book with her right.

  The brown tome was covered with dust. Angie brushed off the leather cover with the palm of her hand. No words graced the cover or the spine.

  She opened the book to the first page.

  Theodore Slayton—August entries.

  Oh My God! Her hand trembled as she turned to the next page and saw a handwritten entry.

  She read a few sentences, and knew. This was Theodore Slayton's personal journal.

  A door slammed somewhere in the house. Angie quickly scooted over to the box, grabbed two books, and sandwiched the journal between them.

  "Angie?” Burt called out.