Saving Evangeline

by Nancee Cain

  “But it was dark and I couldn’t see exactly how high I was. Plus I wanted to d-die,” I stutter through numb lips, my heart pounding in my ears.

  “You mean to say, you could’ve just gone to the bridge during the day and looked down? Easy peasy, drop dead of fright?” His whoops of laughter fill the air.

  “If I wasn’t too scared to let go, I’d hit you right now,” I mumble, my teeth chattering.

  “Look, we’re on the downside now, we’re really not that high.” He nudges my shoulder.

  I open one eye and peek. At least he hasn’t lied to me. We’re almost at an even level with the uninterested carnie who had buckled us in the seat. The guy stands there watching us, looking bored as he smokes a cigar. “Do you think he’ll let me off?”

  “No. Just take your mind off it. Embrace the feeling, it’s like flying with training wings.”

  We swoop past the carnie and sure enough, the guy ignores my frantic waving motions to get me off this death trap. The seat sways gently as we once again move toward the top.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” I close my eyes again, praying to a God I’m not even sure I believe in, to get me off this damn ride.

  “Oh no you don’t. I’m tired of cleaning up puke.”

  “You’re a lousy priest.”

  “I never claimed to be a good priest, or a good man, and I certainly never claimed to be a nurse.” He pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me. Of their own free will, my hands loosen from the guardrail and wrap around his neck. My fingers curl and entangle in the waves of his soft hair. His mouth blazes a trail across my jaw, and I catch my breath and freeze, unsure if I’m lucid, hallucinating or dreaming. Opening my eyes I find stormy green eyes ignited with fire deep in their depths staring back at me. I start to sputter my protest, but his lips capture mine. They’re warm, inviting, and wickedly delicious. He tastes of candy apple, cigarettes, and sin. It’s an intoxicating combination.

  A soft moan escapes my lips. “We can’t…you’re a priest—”

  “Shh,” he whispers. “Just for tonight, it’s just you and me.” The wind picks up and rocks the seat and I grip his neck, terrified of falling, whether of the ride or where we’re headed, I’m not sure. Maybe both.

  “Just you and me,” he repeats, nipping my lower lip with his teeth before deepening the kiss. Our tongues dance as we explore each other’s mouth, and our breathing is as heavy as the air around us. I lean in to him, craving more. Thunder rumbles in the distance and lightning snaps across the sky, making me jump and close the last inch of distance between us. The heavens seem to open up as torrents of rain slant down upon us.

  When I was a little girl, Daddy told me when it rained the angels were crying. If that’s true, they’re sobbing inconsolably right now. In the distance I hear various carnies shouting to shut the rides down, but I don’t care. The only thing that matters right now is being in his arms, tasting his lips. I’m flying free, living in the moment.

  Her soft lips taste of cotton candy. Now that I’ve tasted her sweet mouth and experienced her kisses, I know I’ll never get enough. I’m thankful she’s scared and has her eyes closed because I’m pretty damn sure a moment ago she saw the fire of my arousal in my eyes. If she’d look down, she’d see it in my jeans, too. I fight to regain control, but her soft sigh and sweet moan are like a lit match on dry tinder, sparking my desire. I’m immersed in my infatuation.

  I want her like I’ve never wanted anything before in my life, and I’ve been around for a long time. With Evangeline, I’ve found the part of me that’s been missing. I’ve always felt disconnected, dissatisfied, knowing there is something more out there. Evangeline Salvatore is my something more, my everything. She’s that last satisfying bite of dessert after a seven-course meal. I’m in love with her, and damn the consequences. I will literally risk heaven and hell to hold her in my arms like this forever and kiss her like there is no tomorrow. Deep within me burns a need to protect her, to keep her safe and love her the way she deserves to be loved. This is no longer a stupid job. This is now my life’s mission. I’m going to do everything in my power to make her realize her life means everything to me. She is now my reason for existing. I love her for who she is, including every crazy idea in her beautiful head. I’ve never felt more alive and at peace than when she is in my arms. Not meaning disrespect to the Boss, but she defines my heaven.

  A loud crack of thunder shakes the Ferris wheel and she clutches my shirt, whimpering. From the intensity of the boom, I know I’m in deep trouble. Normally, He’s slow to anger, but when pissed, He’s a force to be reckoned with. I don’t care. I’ll take the punishment. Nothing matters but Evangeline Lourdes Salvatore. I want to be her second chance. There has to be a way for us to be together.

  I meant it when I told her I just wanted to be a man. Not a priest. Not an angel. Just a man, with the woman he loves and adores. We’re on top of the Ferris wheel, alone in our own little world of discovery, and she’s oblivious to the maelstrom brewing above and below us. Rain pelts down upon us as our car lowers to the ground. Reluctantly, I disentangle from her arms as the operator barks for us to get the hell off the ride and get a room. It sounds like a plan to me. How I’ll execute it, I have no idea. One doesn’t go against orders from the Boss. It just isn’t done. But I’m determined to try to figure out a way.

  As we make a dash for the exit, I see the milk bottle game and remember I promised to win her a stuffed animal. I tug on her arm and she crashes into me, which isn’t so bad since I get to feel her warm, wet body next to mine. The game worker curses a blue streak as the wind whips at the drop down curtain he’s unsuccessfully trying to secure.

  “Hey, I’ll help you if you let me have a go at knocking over the milk bottles first.”

  “Look we’re closing up. You see that storm, dickhead?” he barks, glaring at me.

  “I’ll pay double what you charge. Just one chance. Please? For my girl.” I cock my head toward my bedraggled girl, maintaining eye contact with the reluctant carnie. I’m not above cheating and using a little subliminal mesmerizing if needed. Luckily, my charm wins out. Or, more likely, he thinks I’m an easy mark.

  “Yeah, sure.” He gives me a smug you’re-so-gonna-lose smile and holds out his hand for the tickets. I hand him the rest of them, which is quadruple what he charges.

  “Remi, these games are rigged, it’s a waste of money,” Evie sputters in protest, tugging on the hem of my soaked T-shirt. “They put lead in the bottom of the bottles and the ball isn’t hard enough to knock them down.” She looks like a pitiful drowned kitten as she fidgets back and forth.

  “Look, we already paid for the tickets. We’re gonna lose ’em anyway.”

  Her color pales and her eyes widen so that the whites can be seen completely around her warm chocolate irises. The pulse in the base of her neck beats so fast it looks like her heart has jumped into it. I glare at the apparition that has startled her.

  Once again He’s run interference, and this time He’s playing dirty.

  Chapter Eleven

  “YOU NEED TO MOVE ON and be happy,” a familiar voice speaks. I spin around, the hair on my arms standing on end. My heart races so fast I can’t breathe. Desperately, I scan the soaked people running for cover, searching for Jack. It’s his voice, I’m positive…Or not…Maybe it’s just the noise from the rain and the crowd making me confused. I shake my head to clear it and turn back to watch Remi throw our money away on a stupid game.

  He tosses the ball up in the air a few times, a smirk lurking at the corners of his perfect mouth.

  “Hurry up, mister.”

  “Remi, please. Listen to me, this thing is rigged.” I glare at the game agent. This is Remi’s first carnival, and in some things, he’s so naïve. I guess priests aren’t allowed to go to crooked fairs.

  “Oh ye, of little faith. I got this, Crazy Girl.” He draws back and pitches. The ball flies by so fast you’d think he was a pitcher with the Tampa Bay Rays instead
of a man of the cloth.

  All of the milk bottles tumble over, and even the startled carnie whistles in appreciation. “How the hell did ya do that? Are you a sharpie?” The comical look on the guy’s face with his mouth hanging open and eyes bugged wide provides further proof it was probably rigged.

  I jump up and down, clapping and shouting like a cheerleader. It only takes me a second to choose the stuffed angel-bear, which makes Remi roll his eyes. I guess a teddy bear is too girlie for him. Remi insists it be wrapped in plastic to protect it from the rain, and even slips the guy a couple of dollars of our dwindling cash. After helping the guy secure the drop down curtain on the game, he grabs my hand. Dashing toward the car, we kick through mud puddles laughing like little kids. This has been the best day I’ve had in forever, and my face almost hurts from smiling so much.

  Just before we reach the exit, I look to my right and halt. Standing by the tilt-a-whirl, I see Jack again. I tug to get loose from Remi’s hand, but he holds tight, pulling me through the exit, urging me to hurry. Looking back at Jack, I reach out with my free hand toward him and watch with a sense of finality as he blows me a kiss and waves. Whether Jack was real, or a damn hallucination, I know in my heart this was the final good-bye. My life is moving forward, and I’ll never see him again. Lightning streaks through the sky and Remi tugs harder.

  “Evangeline, come on, quit lagging.”

  I nod and follow him, but sneak one last glance behind me, but as expected, Jack’s gone. A bittersweet feeling of sadness envelops me and tears mingle with the rivulets of rain running down my cheek as I follow Remi to the car. He unlocks my door, tossing the stuffed animal in the car, but before I can climb in, he stops me. Rain drips down his face, and I answer the concerned question in his eyes.

  “I saw him.”

  He doesn’t ask me who, he just nods, as if he knows. With one hand wrapped in my hair, the other on my waist, he tugs me to his strong body. Truthfully, there’s a magnetic pull to him that my body can’t fight; his hands aren’t even needed. Warm lips brush my forehead. “You’re going to be okay, sweetness. Trust me.”

  I nod. He doesn’t think I’m crazy. Or if he does, he accepts it without judgment. Trusting him is the easy part. Trusting myself, not so much.

  My teeth chatter and I can’t stop shivering when I step into the cold motel room after my hot shower. Goner’s snoring at the end of the bed, but Remi isn’t here. I figure he’s stepped outside to smoke so I peer out the window, searching for him. Like a tiger in the zoo, he paces the walkway, smoking as he talks on his phone. He rolls his shoulders and his brow furrows as he pauses to listen, his mouth set in a grim line. Resuming his restless pacing, every so often he punctuates his words with the lit cigarette and rolls his eyes. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I turn off the a/c unit to see if I can eavesdrop on what appears to be a heated conversation.

  My heart hammers as I strain to listen. Paranoia is an insidious thing. It creeps in and takes over all normal thought processes in a matter of seconds. Perhaps my hallucinations at the carnival have driven Remi over the edge and he’s reporting my instability. Or worse, he’s been conspiring all along with my mom and the doctors to have me committed. I clutch my stomach as the knot of fear tightens at the thought of his betrayal.

  When his pacing brings him in front of the window, I can hear his muffled conversation over the raging rainfall. “Please stop running interference.” He stops and listens for a few minutes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Punishment? Really, you’re going there?”

  Cold sweat breaks out on my brow and the metallic taste of fear nauseates me. Will it be shock treatments? Stronger meds? Or will I be locked away forever?

  He throws the cigarette down and stomps it out, grinding it with a bit more force than necessary. “I respectfully disagree, sir. I don’t think your way will work this time. Please let me try it my way.” He listens for a moment and rolls his eyes. “Perhaps you should try something novel, like trusting me.” The booming crack of thunder makes me yelp and the immediate, scary arc of lightning signifies it’s close. He needs to get off the phone and come inside where it’s safe. He jumps and glowers at the night sky lit like a laser light show. “Yes, sir.” Sarcasm drips from his voice as he hangs up, his face contorted in a mask of fury.

  Shoving the phone in his pocket, he runs his hands through his wet hair. With his head thrown back and hands on his hips, he glares as the rain slants down fast and furiously. In a moment, he spins on his heels and marches away. I press against the window, squinting to see. Dark, ominous looking wings engulf him. The trees across the parking lot whip and bend with the force of the wind. He moves out of sight, and I back away from the window shaking like the leaves on those storm swept trees.

  Nervous energy surges through me as I try to process the events of tonight. Mimicking Remi, I pace back and forth, clenching and unclenching my fists. The vision of his dark wings doesn’t terrify me like it did the first time I saw them. If indeed, they are real.

  The door handle turns and I throw open the door to find him standing there, scowling, his eyes blazing with fury. Literally, I see flames leap in his eyes. No! I rub my eyes, trying to make sense of everything. When I look again, his features are schooled into a pleasant, if somewhat strained smile, and there are no flames in those amazing eyes.

  Trying to maintain a sense of normalcy, I blurt out the first inane thing that comes to mind. “I’m done in the shower.” Twirling a lock of my wet hair, I warily watch him as he sucks in a deep breath and nods. Continuing with my stupid comments, I add, “It’s really raining hard.”

  He looks up for a second and one eyebrow rises with amusement as if to say duh. “Yeah, I checked the weather. It’s the wettest summer on record around these parts.”

  His blasé response calms me, and throwing my shoulders back, I dig up the courage to confront him. “So, who was on the phone?” I glare at him and block his entrance to the room, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

  “My boss.”

  “Are you in trouble?” Or am I?

  He laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corners. I wonder again how old he is. “Trouble is my middle name, Crazy Girl.”

  “You know, you could give me a complex calling me crazy all the time. I wish you’d just tell me the truth. If you’re in cahoots with my mom or the shrinks, just tell me. I’d rather know than not know and be caught off guard.” My voice raises an octave higher than normal and sounds pressured, even to my own ears.

  “Your paranoia has no boundaries does it? When will you learn to trust me?”

  “Promise me that wasn’t my mom, a hospital, or a couch doc on the phone.” I grip the front of his wet T-shirt, searching his eyes for the truth.

  His gaze never wavers as he smiles down at me. “I promise. It was my boss giving me hell, which is totally par for the course.”

  I let out the breath of fear I’ve unknowingly been holding. I may not trust myself, but I can trust him. At this point in time, I don’t care if I’m seeing things or not. He accepts me as I am.

  “Need a hug?” he asks with a teasing smile.

  I move into his arms and mumble, “You probably deserve the tongue lashing from your boss. You’re the most unpriestly priest I’ve ever met.” Standing in his arms, a rare feeling of contentment makes me sigh with happiness. I squeeze him tighter, feeling safe and loved, never wanting this moment to end. “And I’m glad.”

  He cups my cheeks in his hands forcing me to look up at him. His beautiful lips smirk and fire leaps from the depths of his eyes before simmering down to a smolder. “So you’ve told me, numerous times. Now, let me in so I can get out of these wet clothes.” I blink as an image of him stripping off naked and me licking him dry from head to toe makes my cheeks burn and my breathing hitch. I trip over my own feet as I step out of his way, causing him to chuckle. Goner raises his head and stretches before settling back into a deep sleep.

  “Stupid dog,” Remi mutters shaking his
head, slinging moisture much like the very dog he’s grumbling about. He grabs his sleep pants and heads toward the bathroom.

  I pet my dog with affection. “St. Francis of Assisi would be ashamed of the way you treat poor Goner.”

  “Who, Frank? Nah, I’m positive he knows Goner’s a fleabag.” With a wink and a wicked grin, he closes the door behind him, ignoring my indignant and prolific praises of Goner’s merits.

  I brush my teeth and climb into bed and pat the bed for Goner to sleep with me, but the little ingrate responds with a loud doggy snore from Remi’s bed. Fine, maybe he’ll join me when Remi kicks him off his bed. Turning out the light, I snuggle under the covers, unable to turn off my thoughts after the ups and downs of this long day. The bathroom door opens, and I sneak a peek at Remi in his low-riding, black pajama pants. He has wickedly delicious hipbones underneath the muscle definitions of his abs. He brushes his teeth and glances my way in the mirror, but I close my eyes, hoping he didn’t catch me spying on him.

  The light over the vanity snaps off, and I open my eyes. He’s left the bathroom light on and cracked the door, leaving a bare sliver of light for me. Stretching and rolling his back he collapses on the side of his bed looking like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Through lowered lashes I watch him nudge the snoring dog, but Goner doesn’t budge.

  For twenty minutes he silently prays the rosary. The gentle clacking of the beads intermingles with the soft snores from Goner. A soft glow of light from the bathroom surrounds him, but his face is concealed by the shadows. It occurs to me this man is the light in my darkness. The peace in my tortured soul. The room is warm with the air conditioner off, but I don’t want to kick off my covers and draw attention to myself.

  With a loud yawn, he stands and kisses his rosary. I close my eyes, reliving our kiss on the Ferris wheel. His lips had tasted of candied apple and been so soft, yet firm. Even now, my body feels like a furnace, burning with a desire to feel that mouth exploring my body. I berate myself for the wrong, sinful thoughts that I can’t seem to shut off. The man has just prayed and yet I want him to sin against his God. For once I wish I had the mind numbing medications that made me unable to think or feel. Is there a special place in hell for people like me? Or will I reside in purgatory? Or is it all a bunch of bullshit?