Saving Evangeline

by Nancee Cain

  However, I’m stubborn, not dense. If He sent the gruesome twosome, it was meant to be a subtle warning that He’s watching. I bet no one else gets treated like this. Well, Luc, but that’s a whole different story. And I refuse to go all Frank Capra and tell Evangeline about her wonderful life. I mean come on, her life has pretty much sucked ass so far. And I’m certainly not up for any Dickens-like time travel. Besides, it’s the end of stinking hot August, not Christmas, and I like being in a corporeal body.

  I especially liked it when my corporeal body was next to her smoking hot body. I’d like it even more…The music changes and suddenly we’re listening to AC/DC singing about being on the highway to hell. Evangeline mutters under her breath about not having pushed shuffle.

  I sigh. I know who pushed shuffle.

  Point taken, Sir.

  Chapter Seven

  HUNGRY AND TIRED, we pull into a respectable, low-budget motel after driving for twelve hours straight, with very little conversation. Remi heads into the lobby to secure our rooms, and I rub my pounding head. Despite my epic meltdown this morning, today has been one of my better days as far as my loco en la cabeza thoughts go, but it’s still been stressful.

  Time spent alone in peace and quiet is treasured. Time spent in peace and quiet with someone not speaking to you is downright lonesome and triggers my abandonment issues. I don’t understand why the incident with the old lady riled him so much. When I think about it, despite spending the last twenty-four hours together, I don’t know much about Remi. Picking up his phone, I scroll through his playlists. I watched him thumb in his pass code, which is far too easy to be much protection. Aside from the list entitled Evangeline, it has an eclectic mixture of rock and roll, alternative music, and blues. A quick glance through the glass doors of the motel shows him signing the register.

  I look to see if he’s on social media, but he isn’t. Maybe there’s a rule about it for priests. I flip to his contact list. He only has one other number besides mine programmed. It has an unknown area code and I wonder who The Boss is. A Monsignor? His Mom? It looks vaguely as if it could be an overseas number. The Pope? Curiosity gets the best of me. I hit dial and listen.

  “Good evening, Evangeline.”

  My mouth falls open, and I drop the phone before snatching it off of the floor with trembling fingers. “H-How do you know it’s me and my name?” I whisper, shrinking into my seat. It isn’t like caller ID would work, I’m on Remi’s phone. A trickle of cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and the hair on my arms stands straight up. The hand holding the phone shakes so hard I have to use my other hand to steady it.

  “Aren’t you with Remiel?” The warm voice sounds rich and uplifting, like hot chocolate on a cold morning.

  “Y-Yes. You know about me? What has he said?” Why would Remi talk about me with his boss?

  “Yes, of course, dear. I know all about you. Everything will be fine, I promise. Just concentrate on getting to your mother. She loves you more than you know.”

  “Who are you?” My distrust kicks into overdrive. “And how do you know about my mother?” Is my mom in on this? Maybe she isn’t sick. Maybe she’s paid Remi to kidnap me. Maybe this guy is a shrink. I bet they’ve planned this together to take me back to the nuthouse. Without waiting for an answer, I drop the phone and fumble with the door lock. The damn seatbelt pulls me back, hindering my escape. I manage to unlatch it and bolt from the car as Remi strides out of the lobby.

  “Evangeline?”

  “Stay away from me!” Backing away from him, I throw my hands out as if doing so will hold him at bay.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Now what?” He approaches me like I’m a rabid dog.

  “I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid,” I spit out, walking backward, keeping a wary eye on him. My overwhelming need to get away spikes to an alarming level. I don’t want the mind-numbing drugs and endless sessions of talking.

  The lights in the parking lot provide a diffuse illumination, but even so, I see a dark shadow rise up behind him. I spin around and sprint toward the safety of the tree line at the end of the property. My heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of my frantic feet. Every sound behind me seems magnified, but I’m too scared to look back, afraid he will be right behind me. Praying I can hide somewhere in the safety of the woods, I forge ahead. At one point, I’m running so fast it feels like my feet aren’t even touching the ground. Just as I reach the edge of the trees behind the motel, he catches hold of my hand, jerking me toward him.

  “Evangeline, what the hell happened?” The bastard who smokes isn’t even breaking a sweat or breathing hard.

  I, on the other hand, can’t catch my breath, and my heart hammers so fast my chest aches. I attempt to pull away, but he yanks me back and I land with a thud against his chest. The arm that snakes across my chest prevents me from falling. Spinning me around, he grabs me by the shoulders and peers down at me. Away from the lights of the parking lot it’s dark, except for the moonlight, but fire flashes in his eyes. I close my eyes and sink to my knees in despair.

  “Please don’t hurt me, please, leave me alone and go away. Oh, God, I don’t want this anymore. Go away, please…just go away and let me die. I can’t go back there.” I clasp my hands in front of me like a repentant sinner.

  “Slow down, you’re not making any sense.” He kneels so he’s level with me. His brows knit together over eyes full of concern.

  “Of course I’m not. I’m insane, remember?” A hysterical laugh surrounds us and I realize it’s mine. I clutch his shirt with my hands. “Please, Remi. If I mean anything to you, don’t make me go—” The sob in the back of my throat cuts off my air and voice.

  “Go where, sweetness?” he asks, pulling me to his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles on my back.

  “Back to the hospital,” I choke out. The thought of the needles, spinning rooms, and the oblivion provided by the powerful psychotropic medications, or worse, the shock treatments, has me terrified beyond reason.

  “But your mother needs you.”

  “She hired you, didn’t she?” My teeth chatter around my thick tongue, and despite the summer heat, I shiver with icy dread.

  “What?”

  “My mother. She hired you to kidnap me and make me go back to the hospital to get regulated on my medicine. Did she get that power of attorney?” Frustrated, I beat on his chest with my fist. “I know all crazy people say it, but I’m not that crazy. I’m not! Just let me go, and I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please.” I’m trying my best to contain my sobs, but my breathing sounds like a choked engine.

  “That sounds pretty damn crazy, Evangeline. I don’t know your mother—”

  “Please Remi, I’ll do anything…” I rub against him. This isn’t my first rodeo using sex to get what I want. If it keeps me out of the nuthouse, it will be worth shoving my pride aside, yet again. Sometimes loneliness would force me to pick up a random stranger, using sex to feel connected. But in those cases the relationship was superficial, and in the end, it made me feel worse, and worthless. At least Remi’s good looking and I like him. Or, I did…

  What am I doing? A tiny fragment of my conscience screams for me to stop. I pull away, ashamed of my actions, but my eyes are drawn to the pounding pulse in his neck. I lean in closer, feeling the heat from his body. Almost of their own accord, my lips trail the faint blue vein up his neck. He sucks in his breath and freezes. Pulling his T-shirt out from his jeans, I run my hands up his hard, muscular back. It isn’t the only thing hard. His erection presses against me, spurring me on. I kiss and nibble along the stubble on his jaw, up his cheek, until I reach those perfect lips. A needy fire simmers deep within me as his warm breath fans across my face.

  Deep in his chest a growl rumbles as he gasps, “No, we can’t. Evangeline, stop—”

  “Yes, Remi, yes…”

  For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m in the right place at the right time. With every ounce of my being, I know I belong here. We are
somehow one and the same. It no longer matters who is manipulating whom. Intellectually, I know it’s wrong. In my heart, I don’t give a damn. This feels more right than anything I’ve ever experienced, including my love for Jack. Somehow, he manages to sit and I straddle his lap facing him. “Please, Remi…”

  “Please what?” he croaks. His hands have worked their way under my shirt onto my back. The contact fuels my desire. My feverish body pulsates with need and I rock against his hard arousal, escalating my yearning to be with him a hundred fold. A soft moan escapes my lips.

  “This is wrong,” he whispers as he pulls me closer, his lips nipping at mine. One hand moves from under my shirt and cups my face.

  “Oh, God.”

  He deepens the kiss as our tongues tease one another in an ancient fertility dance. My hard nipples press into him as my hands roam underneath his shirt, kneading and stroking upward until my fingers entangle with feathers.

  Her soft lips nibble along my jaw, her hands delve under my T-shirt and every damn reason why we shouldn’t be doing this flees my Evangeline-intoxicated brain. I pull her closer to me, inhaling her scent and tasting the nectar of her skin. I’m drunk and out of control as an overwhelming need to devour her consumes me. I somehow manage to sit without falling and position her on my lap with her legs straddling my waist. Her arms wrap around my neck, and only our clothes separate us from being totally connected.

  “Please, Remi,” she whispers as my lips trace down her neck to the pounding pulse at the base.

  “Please what, Evie?” My voice sounds husky because I can’t seem to swallow. My hand creeps under her shirt loving her curves, as I trail kisses to her delightful mouth. Her soft moan combined with a purr of pleasure from the back of her throat is the sexiest thing I’ve heard in the past three centuries, maybe ever. She rocks against me and I damn near explode.

  Her head falls back and she murmurs, “Oh God.”

  Calling on the Boss combined with her fingers grasping a handful of my feathers is like being immersed in an ice-cold bucket of water, shocking me back to reality. This has to stop and it has to stop, now.

  I grab her face and I see my fire of need reflected in her dark, dilated pupils. “This will be a dream, Evangeline.” Confusion settles in her beautiful eyes just before they close and her body goes limp.

  Holding her to my chest I kiss the top of her head and rock her, inwardly cursing our fate for what can never be.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  I’m not asleep, Remi’s hands are on me, and I can taste his lips…

  Something nudges my shoulder and my eyes fly open. I look around, taking in my surroundings. I’m in the car with the seat laid back, and Remi sits beside me on the driver’s side. Still groggy, I rub my eyes and realize we’re parked in front of a room at a motel.

  “I was asleep?” An overwhelming sense of sadness washes through me, and I shiver as the blood quits racing through my limbs.

  “Like the dead. Did you know you drool?” The smile doesn’t seem to quite reach his eyes as he rubs the back of his fingers across the corner of my mouth. They linger for a second longer than necessary on my jaw. “You okay?” he murmurs.

  Snapping my seat upright, I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, I guess so. I feel hung over or something. I must’ve slept too hard.” A dense fog seems to encase my mind. I look out the window. It’s dark, but by the dim light I see a parking lot and a fast food joint lit by the bright golden arches. I long to slip back into the glorious dream of his lips on mine.

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress. Your body’s just trying to catch up. Look, let’s get you settled in for the night, and I’ll run next door and grab us something to eat. You shower and I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Is your room next to mine?” I find my purse on the floorboard and open the car door, but look back at him when he doesn’t answer.

  He stares straight ahead instead of looking at me. “Uh, no. That’s why we need to orchestrate this carefully.”

  I narrow my gaze and his cheeks flush under the light from outside the motel room. “What do you mean?”

  “We have one room, two beds. I told you, we have to save money.”

  It’s my turn for my cheeks to burn as I recall my dream. “Is this wise? What about your reputation?”

  “Mine? What about yours?”

  I shrug. “We both know mine’s for shit.” My self-deprecating laugh makes him frown.

  “You’re a good person, Evie. I wish you’d believe that.” He sighs. “Look, no one knows us here. I’m placing my trust in you that you won’t tell anyone, and I’m trusting God to help me remember my vows.” He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel. “So help a poor guy out, okay? I may be celibate, but I’m still human. No sleeping naked or sexy lingerie, please.” Although his voice sounds teasing, the tic above his clenched jaw betrays his nervousness. He’s coiled up tighter than a serpent about to strike.

  Too tired and confused by my dream, I nod, but add teasingly as we step out of the car, “Party pooper.”

  “Shit.”

  The soft expletive pushes me to have mercy on him. “I’m teasing. I sleep in an oversized T-shirt, and I’ll add yoga pants just for you.”

  He grabs our luggage and hauls it into the room. “Thank you. So what do you want to eat?”

  “Whatever is cheapest, and I’ll drink water.” I rub my jeans nervously with my hands. The way he keeps staring at me unnerves me. I must look like a mess.

  “Okay. You get first shower, and I’ll be back in a few. Leave me some hot water, okay?” He whips around and points at me. “And no suicide attempts while I’m gone. Promise me.”

  I give him a smart ass salute. “I promise, Father.” He leaves and I collapse on the bed, rubbing my aching forehead. That dream had been so real and disturbing on so many levels. I slip the room key in my pocket and set off in search of the elusive ice machine, thinking something cold might help my headache. The dry stifling heat is nothing compared to the humidity of south Florida, but still uncomfortable. I round the corner toward the front office and freeze. The front of the motel looks just like it did in my dream. I hug the wall with a mixture of fear and curiosity as I take in my surroundings. There’s the tree line where I ran, trying to get away.

  Like a burglar, I creep away from the motel and scurry across the parking lot. The path of trampled grass I’d previously taken disappears in the waning light. Clouds cover the moon, making it too difficult without a flashlight to determine which way I’d run. A bead of sweat forms on my forehead and my knees knock together as I look around, trying to figure out what it means.

  Was it a dream?

  A hallucination?

  If so, they’re becoming more life-like, less dream-like. And I’ve never seen or heard non-human apparitions until I met Remi—unless you count my talks with the angels when I was a little girl. Hypersensitive to my surroundings, I jump at every noise, and a firefly damn near makes me pee on myself. I wish I had a flashlight. Too terrified to walk into the inky darkness alone, I retrace my steps. Despite my trembling hands, I manage to shovel a bucket of ice. I return to the room and sit on the bed, waiting, like a cat outside a mouse hole. A knock on the door propels me off the bed to throw open the door. Remi holds a bag of fast food, nibbling on a French fry. He frowns at my appearance.

  “Look, Crazy Girl. You need to bathe. I’m not riding with you for days in an enclosed car in August if you’re not going to take care of your personal hygiene. That’s just gross.”

  “What are you?”

  His eyes shift nervously for a fraction of a second before he sighs. “I feel like your mother right now. Why haven’t you bathed?”

  I clench my fists and stomp my foot, my temper exploding with exasperation and fear. Using my index finger, I punctuate each word with a stab to his chest, asking through gritted teeth, “What. Are. You?”

  “What I am is annoyed as hell, at the moment.” He raises one eyebrow and moves i
nto the room, closing the door. Leaning against it, he digs out another French fry crossing himself with it. “Bless this fast food and nourish our bodies despite the grease with which it was fried. Amen.” He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. “I’m tired, hungry and in need of a shower. What bug has crawled up your ass this time?”

  “It wasn’t a dream. I saw the motel. I saw the trees.” I back away from him, taking deep breaths to keep myself calm.

  He sighs and shakes his head. “It was a dream. You were tired and sleeping and probably stirred a bit when we pulled into the motel, making you somewhat aware of where we were. However, by the time I pulled around to our room, you were out cold.”

  “But I saw the grass bent where I ran toward the trees…” My voice trails off. In truth, I don’t know what to believe.

  He rolls his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “For heaven’s sake, do you not recognize how batty you sound? Stop and listen to yourself. This is a rundown motel on an interstate that allows pets to stay here. Walking back with the food, I saw two people out in the grass walking their dogs. Now quit working yourself into a tizzy and eat.”

  He shoves the sack of food at me, his brows drawn together over eyes that appear to snap with anger. “You know what? I’m a pretty patient man, but you’re pushing it, Evie. I’m going to go smoke and take a minute to calm down and pray for forgiveness, because right at this moment I’m not feeling very charitable toward you. Go take a bath. You have five minutes.” He slams the door so hard the cheap prints over the beds tilt, and I hope we don’t get kicked out for public disturbance.

  Too tired to think and almost beyond caring, I grab my things and take the quickest shower of my life. After I’m dressed, I crack open the bathroom door and peek into the room. I find Remi lying on the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. He’s removed his shirt, and I pause, wishing dreams did come true. He’s placed my hamburger and fries on the bedside table, and poured me a glass of water.