That Was Yesterday

by Vella Munn

Inside. She really had unlocked the door and walked into her house when there was the possibility that her abductor was on the property. Had wanting to be there for Reed, if he contacted her, been that strong?

  Yes. And yet that was only part of the answer.

  Ten minutes later Reed returned. The policeman, convinced that no one was around, had left. “He’s going to report back to Kline. He’d like to come back in the morning and see if there are any footprints around the house. The rapist, he didn’t call you tonight?”

  Mara repeated that she hadn’t been home. Then she remembered she’d left her recorder on. Wordlessly she walked into the spare bedroom, Reed following, and punched the Play button. There were five messages. One was from her parents saying they’d try again in the morning. Twice no one had spoken. The final two messages echoed through the room.

  “I know you’re there, Mara. You just don’t want to talk to me. That’s a mistake. Talking’s easier than what I have in mind.

  “You’ll never know when I’m going to show up. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe tonight. When I do, it’s going to be party time.”

  Reed glared at the machine. “Damn! How long has this been going on?”

  Mara leaned over the machine, her finger poised over the Delete button. But she couldn’t erase his horrible words. The police would need to hear what he’d said. “Days. At first no one was on the line. But this— He’s getting bold.”

  Reed turned to face Mara. He expected her to be trembling. If she was he’d know what his role should be. But she wasn’t, and he had no place to put his hands. “And the police haven’t done anything?”

  “What?” Mara asked impatiently. She wiped the top of the machine with the back of her hand, ineffectively dusting it. “Slap him with a restraining order? We don’t know who he is. He calls from pay phones so the tap hasn’t worked.”

  “You could have let me know.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?” Mara’s hands became fists. She didn’t try to hide that from him. “I couldn’t give a blow-by-blow to someone who’s never here.”

  She knew how to hurt him. Reed had to hand her that. “That’s not it,” he told her softly. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Mara headed back into the living room, turning off the light as she went. “Then what?” she asked without looking at him. She was already perched on the couch when he joined her.

  Maybe touching her wouldn’t break through the barrier she’d thrown up, but Reed needed to take the chance. Still, he waited until he was standing over her, with his body inches from hers, and she’d looked up at him. It was then that he reached out and placed a forefinger on her throat. The scar barely registered. “I’m talking about emotional release.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why not, Mara?”

  Reed had spoken her name in that way only he could. He’d touched his finger to her throat, acknowledging what her attacker had left as his calling card. That simple gesture broke down her barriers. Despite Lobo’s warning that it might not be safe, she’d walked into the house and convinced herself that her attacker hadn’t invaded it. Drawing on that same strength, she could speak and let emotion guide the words. “I’ve never been in hell before.”

  “Hell. Oh, Mara, why didn’t you want me to know?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” Reed grabbed her hands, sustaining her. “Why didn’t you give me the chance? What was it? You didn’t love me enough? You didn’t think I had a right to know?”

  “Damn you, Reed.”

  “Yeah.” He touched his mouth to her knuckles. “Damn me.”

  He’d touched her again. That was all; he’d touched her. No. It was a great deal more than that. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Everything. Tell me about the hell you’ve been through.”

  “Everything?” The word sounded bitter, but Mara couldn’t help it. Although she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it much longer, she was still fighting to protect herself. To protect both of them from the truth of her cowardice. “You don’t know what’s going on inside me. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Reed released her. Heavy-footed, he made his way to the window and stared out at the night. Mara read the end to everything in that gesture. Why had she attacked him when what she needed was his warmth? When he was everything to her. She found her feet and trailed after him. Still, she wasn’t brave enough to do anything but stand beside him, feeling the night. Feeling him.

  “Reed?” she began. “The night I was abducted I was forced to deal with something I thought was behind me.”

  “What?”

  He’d asked the hardest question of all, and now, standing next to him, she had to tell him. “I’m a Curtis,” she tried. “That’s supposed to mean something. The rest of my family, they’re so brave. Not me. I can’t even watch them race. Not after seeing my father almost kill himself. But…” Reed wasn’t speaking. She would have to go on. “I faced that about myself, admitted it. I made my own life. I accepted what I wasn’t and became proud of what I am. I built this business using what I’d learned from my father. And then…he took that from me.”

  Reed wasn’t interested in the night. Even if the physical distance between them remained, she knew he was listening to her every word. “You’re so strong,” she told him as her head pounded. “There isn’t anything you can’t handle. Nothing that scares you. I wanted to match that.”

  “I, what?”

  She had to go on speaking. As before, emotion carved the words out of her. “I have to have pride in myself. Without that I’m nothing.”

  “No.” His single word stopped her. “Don’t say nothing frightens me. Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through?”

  “Of course. Your job—”

  “This has nothing to do with my job.” Reed turned. He touched his fingers gently to her cheek and then let his hand drop. “Nothing I can’t handle? You really believe that?”

  “You’re self-reliant.”

  “Self-reliant? Mara, I want to tell you something. Maybe it doesn’t have enough to do with what’s happening between us. Maybe it does. I believe it does.”

  Mara waited.

  Reed glanced down at his hands pressed tightly against his thighs. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were so dark that she felt herself tumbling into their depths. “I told you what it was like with my parents. The lack of any real bonding. I think maybe when that happens, a child draws back. Insulates himself.”

  “Reed.”

  “But insulating myself doesn’t mean things don’t reach me.” Reed didn’t blink; there was no way she could pull free. “I’ve been going crazy worrying about you, not knowing whether you were safe. When I couldn’t get in touch with you—when I was in Reno and when the net was being stretched—I thought about that monster getting to you. I told myself I was thinking crazy thoughts, that he wasn’t interested in you.”

  Reed blinked. It didn’t help. “That’s what you wanted me to believe, isn’t it? Only, that didn’t stop the thoughts. Maybe I’d never see you again. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it. Not a damn thing, except deal with that emotion.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “What? That I wanted you to pick up and move? That I wanted you to close the business and go somewhere safe? If I’d done that, you wouldn’t have had anything to do with me.”

  Those were the words she’d given him. “You— How can you say that?”

  “How can I not? You’d put the attack behind you. When you went to that lineup, you gave every impression of having things under control. You couldn’t make an identification because it had been dark, but looking at those men was no big deal for you. I believed that, then. I couldn’t match your emotions. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

  No. That wasn’t the man Mara knew, or, maybe the truth was, that wasn’t the man she had created. “You aren’t supposed to be afraid.�
��

  “Why not? I’m human.”

  Human. “But your job. How could you do what you did if you were afraid?”

  “How? Mara, I grew up knowing there wasn’t anyone for me, telling myself I didn’t need anyone. And then Jack came along. He gave my life focus and meaning. There probably isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.”

  “Even if it means risking your life?”

  “Yeah. But it backfired. In the end it made me hurt the woman I love.”

  Mara swayed. “Love?”

  “I don’t understand you,” he whispered. His fingers were points of warmth on her throat. “I don’t understand where we’re going. But yes. I love you.”

  “Even—”

  “Don’t,” he told her with a wisdom that took her from everything except him. “I love you. I believe you feel the same about me. Only, right now we’re talking in circles. We hurt each other, when that’s what neither of us wants.”

  “Yes.”

  “When we should be learning why neither of us can walk away from this.”

  “Yes,” Mara repeated. His fingers were trailing lower. Lower.

  Mara was sitting in the living room when Reed woke, a little after dawn. They’d remained silent and let need do the speaking for them. But now, even after a night together, Mara couldn’t dismiss how far they still had to go.

  “Did I rush things again?” Reed asked as he joined her on the couch.

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know,” she told him, although she did. “I don’t know where we’re heading. If the other thing was resolved, maybe I could concentrate on us. That man. I want him behind bars.”

  “It’s going to happen.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  “So do I,” Reed said. He rested his hand on her knee. “I want to give you back everything you had.”

  Mara took a moment to release her breath. Even after a night devoted to easing hunger, his touch showed her how quickly hunger could return. “You can’t. Reed, I have to do this by myself. For myself.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t know what I’m talking about. That man— I can’t even drive my car anymore.”

  “I know.”

  “I could sell it. I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “Yes, you could.”

  No, she couldn’t. Selling the Corvette was an admission of failure. And in the end that would undermine what she and Reed were fighting for. What she needed to believe about herself. “I have to try to face— I want my car back. It’s only a little thing. It isn’t everything, but I want it to be my car. Not his.”

  “We can try.”

  We. “How?”

  “By getting behind the wheel of the damn thing and driving it into the ground.”

  So simple. So incredibly simple. “You’ll be sitting next to me?”

  Reed nodded. “But you have to do the driving.”

  “I did, a couple of times,” she told him. “But that was before I was sure he was after me. Even then it was as if he’d left some residue of himself behind. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. It does.”

  Ten minutes later they were on the track. The man in the passenger’s seat was the one she loved, not a dehumanizing criminal. That thought sustained Mara through the first couple of turns while she warmed the engine. Then she pressed down on the accelerator, remembering the last time she’d tried to do this, and the phone calls and threats that had come since.

  It was easier than she’d thought it would be. The Corvette responded like a race horse kept too long in the barn. Mara gripped the wheel and watched the needle inch forward until she was going over eighty miles an hour.

  Reed nodded approval. “Keep it going. Come out of the curves as fast as you can.”

  She’d said much the same to Reed when he was the pupil and she the teacher. If she could advise, surely she could learn.

  Ninety. A quick glance at Reed. He was still there, shutting out the other presence. A little more pressure. Yes. She could do that. Then they were into a turn. Mara held steady, accelerating as she came out of the turn. One hundred. She’d never taken it that fast.

  “A little more. Just a little more.”

  Reed trusted her. She couldn’t fail, either him or herself. Another turn, a quick stab of the accelerator as she hit the straightaway. Nerves wired, everything blocked out except the effort of controlling the vehicle, Mara breathed in Reed’s essence and pushed.

  “One hundred ten,” he read for her.

  Mara took her foot off the accelerator and let the Corvette slow. She was aware of her tension but waited until they were back at the starting position before relaxing her grip on the wheel. Her palms were sweating, and she wiped them on her jeans. “I did it. We did it.”

  “No.” Reed stopped her when she reached for the key. “You aren’t done.”

  “What? Reed, my students are going to be here soon.”

  “Now do it alone.”

  Mara froze. “I don’t know.”

  “You never will if you don’t try.”

  “I’ll do it later.”

  “Not later.” Reed unfastened his shoulder harness and stepped out. “Your dad got back in a car after his accident. You can do the same.”

  Mara thought of Reed’s hands on her in the night, his whispered words of love that took the place of what still stood between them and wondered if he truly knew what he was asking her to do. It didn’t matter. He was right and she couldn’t fail herself in this thing. Mara eased back to the spot she’d left a few minutes ago. Part of Reed had remained in the Corvette. Would it be enough?

  The day was going to be hot. There wasn’t much of a breeze. Mara sensed only Reed. Remembered only Reed. And then she took her foot off the brake and acknowledged the emptiness to her right. She shook that off. She was going to hit the track and duplicate what she’d accomplished with Reed beside her. That was the only thing in the world she had to do.

  Bringing the Corvette up to ninety miles an hour was the easy part. She concentrated on the smooth movement of the needle, the hum of wheels. But now she was going too fast to take her eyes off the road. She would have to let the Corvette tell her when she’d reached the ultimate speed.

  “I love you,” Reed had told her.

  And then it was there, pressing, making its presence known.

  There wasn’t enough room in the Corvette. She wasn’t alone, and the man riding with her wasn’t the one she needed.

  “Say it. Tell me you’re going to enjoy this.”

  “No.”

  “Say it. If you want to live, say it.”

  “I’m—“

  He’d laughed, touched her, held that damnable knife. Forced her to say things that made her want to vomit. Made her hate herself even more than she hated him.

  “I love you.” She heard Reed’s voice in her mind, and drew strength from it.

  She bit her lip, drawing blood. The needle touched one hundred.

  But the animal was still there. His knife glistened, touched her blouse and ripped through fragile fabric. His words were obscene, his orders enough to make her gag. What she’d said, what had been forced out of her, echoed despite the sound of tires and engine. Once again the Corvette slowed.

  “I love you, Mara.” Her foot came down on the accelerator again.

  One hundred and five. Steady through the turn. Straightening out.

  “Party time.” A knife on her leg. Foot off the accelerator. A scream crawling higher, higher, slicing off into the desert morning. “Party time. Say it. Party time.”

  “I love you, Mara.”

  One hundred and five again. Another turn. Another challenging straight stretch. The knife. Where was the knife? Her father would have pulled the key if he’d seen her take her eyes off the road, but then her father didn’t know what she was going through.

  Mara had a passenger. A man. He represented either sanity or in
sanity. A promise met, or failure.

  “I love you, Mara.”

  One hundred fifteen miles an hour.

  The knowledge brought Mara no joy. It should have. What she felt for Reed, what he’d given her, had made it possible for her to drive this vehicle. But all she’d really done was match something her father had been doing all his life.

  She still didn’t know if she had the courage to tell Reed everything.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Mara wasn’t surprised to hear Reed say that; she probably would have done the same thing if the circumstances were reversed. But that didn’t make dealing with him any easier. She waited until Detective Kline was out of the room before responding. She hadn’t noticed before how small and cramped the detective’s office was. She’d have to ask him how he managed to work in it without feeling claustrophobic. “Yes, I do.”

  Reed had been studying what could be seen of the department’s parking lot from the small window. Now he turned. “Maybe you do.” The words came out on a sigh. “But do you understand what Kline is saying?”

  “I’m supposed to try to draw him to me,” Mara began. “Make him believe I’m terrified and vulnerable so he believes he has the upper hand.”

  “Do you think you can do that?”

  “Do I think I can act frightened?” Mara laughed; there was no warmth in the sound. “The only doubt I have is, is he going to believe me?”

  “We can only hope.”

  “We?” She caught on the word, needing to believe him, knowing what still remained to be said once this other thing was behind them. “Reed, this is a police job, and you aren’t a policeman. You heard the detective. It’s going to be a stakeout of sorts. Someone will always be with me.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want me there?”

  She could wait until they were back at her place, but maybe by then she would have retreated into silence again. “I don’t know how I feel. This morning, with the Corvette, I relied on you. If you hadn’t been beside me, I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did.”

  “You did it again when I wasn’t there.”