“She’s in my spinning class. I’m going to go over and say hi. Wanna come?”
“Uh,” I said uncertainly. “Maybe another time.”
Beth flashed a smile and, with a wink, sashayed in Charlotte’s direction.
John and Neil were already well into the get-to-know-each-other phase.
“How long you been a firefighter?” John asked Neil.
“Going on fifteen years now. Joined up right after high school.”
John nodded. “Must be pretty exciting.”
The waitress arrived with a tray of frosted glasses and a pitcher of beer. She set them down on the table as John counted out the bill and a generous tip.
“Thanks, sugar,” she said to John. I could have sworn she was looking at Neil, though.
John poured the beer and the two raised their glasses in salute. Neil only sipped while John downed his in one long pull.
“I couldn’t do anything like that,” John said as he poured himself another. “Too much excitement. I like safe and quiet. An accountant’s life is stable and predictable; just the way I like it.”
To my ears, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
“So,” John said to Neil, “what made you decide to become a firefighter?”
“Long story—”
A hush settled over the other end of the bar.
“Oh, shit,” I said, and my stomach twisted when I glanced in that direction. The feeling of camaraderie I had started to enjoy disappeared in an instant.
Barry, Frank and Troy swaggered into The Trough like they owned the place.
“What?” Neil followed my gaze, and lowered his brows. He put a hand on my arm, and that simple gesture helped to center me.
The bartender, old Jack Creel, came out from behind the counter and motioned for the three of them to leave. Looking at Jack, you would think he’d get knocked over by a stiff breeze, but despite his age and lanky physique, he was fast and vicious in a fight, often taking down men twice his size.
I couldn’t hear what they said, but I could guess. I knew Barry, and I knew he could be charming and disarming when he wanted to. He put his bandaged hands up in an ‘I don’t want to make trouble’ gesture and smiled like a saint.
Jack shook his head, but after they exchanged more words, he finally shrugged and returned to his bar keeping duties. Barry and his friends found a table at the other side of the dance floor. I knew he knew I was there, though he studiously avoided looking in my direction while he found his seat. Just a good old boy, he ordered a round of drinks from the waitress who floated by. Frank cracked a joke, and all three laughed.
“Darcy, you’re going to bust a nail.” I glanced up at Beth, who had returned to the table. She was looking at my hands, which were clutching the edge of the table so hard my knuckles were white.
I forced myself to relax my grip. “Maybe we should leave. This was a bad idea.”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Beth. “We have just as much right to be here as he does.”
I wrung my hands. “I don’t know.”
“I do. There’s no way you’re getting out of here without a fight, princess.” Beth gave Neil a playful smack on the arm. “If you don’t ask her to dance soon, I’ll make you dance with me. I warn you, I have high heels and no sense of rhythm.”
Neil blushed a deep red, and suddenly the tension drained from me. His embarrassment made me like him more. At the same time, I felt more than a little self-conscious.
“Beth,” I admonished her. “I’m not sure—”
“I warned you. If you don’t dance with him, I will!” She grabbed Neil by the wrist and pulled him out of his seat. With a helpless look on his face, he let Beth drag him to the dance floor. Joining the few other couples already attempting a line dance, the two fell into position and, with only a few missteps, got into the swing of things.
John leaned over to me, his eyes full of laughter. “Are you going to help me make my wife jealous? Come on!”
I took a sip of water and stood. “Absolutely.”
“Yeah! That’s more like it.”
We stepped into line and followed along. It was like I had sea legs, and I’m sure I looked like an idiot, but for a few minutes all my cares drained away. I was surprised to hear my own laughter.
John spun me around. I almost lost my balance, but Beth grabbed me before I spilled over into someone’s table.
“You home wrecker!” she called out to me with a smile. “Give me my husband back!”
I laughed, and Beth and I switched positions. I partnered up with Neil. He was grinning like a fool, obviously enjoying himself.
The band ended the song on a high note, and immediately started a waltz. I took a step back toward the table, but Neil took my hand and pulled me in for a slow dance.
I closed my eyes, burying my head in Neil’s chest and basked in the security of his embrace. The rhythm of the music and the ebb and sway of our dancing was hypnotizing, and I felt all my cares drain away.
When Neil was suddenly wrenched away from me, I cried out in surprise. It took me a few moments to get my wits about me.
“That’s my wife you’re dancing with, bastard!” Barry, his fists clenched, had murder in his eyes as he stared Neil down.
My shock instantly turned to rage. “I’m not your wife anymore, Barry. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
He pointed an accusing finger at me. “We took a vow. And like the man said, you’re mine until death do us part. Now you’re going to dance with me and you’re going to like it.” With that, he reached out to grab my arm.
Lightning quick, Neil deflected his advance and then followed up with a strong shove.
“You heard the lady,” he said. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
Barry smiled disarmingly and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. From experience, I knew what was coming next and called out a warning. Neil had already dropped his guard though, and Barry lashed out with a brutal roundhouse to Neil’s jaw, sending him flying back against the crowd that had gathered to watch.
“Neil!” I cried, but before I could run over to see if he was all right, Barry backhanded me across the face. Stars exploded in my head. The blow didn’t quite knock me off my feet, and I caught myself and stood my ground.
“That’s for disrespecting me, bitch!” Barry said.
I put my hand to my burning cheek and narrowed my eyes at him. A tingling sensation started at the tips of my fingers and spread inch by inch up through my hands. My stomach cramped; the power wanted out. At that point, I wanted to release it. The air around me crackled and I could feel the hairs on my arm stand up.
The temperature in the room was rising, but no one seemed to notice: all eyes were on the unfolding drama.
“You wipe that look off your face,” Barry said through clenched teeth, “or I’ll wipe it off for you.”
I vibrated with the effort to retain control.
A beer bottle shattered in someone’s hand, and a woman gasped as her martini boiled in her hand. Several more drinks exploded or fell to the ground and smashed.
People exclaimed, but no one had any idea I was the cause.
Halfway across the room, a man leaped out of his chair with a curse, a tendril of smoke curling from his suddenly overheated backrest.
Neil was on his feet and rushed to put himself between Barry and me.
“Darcy, are you all right?” he asked, concern chiseled into his eyes. Barry, unable to comprehend what was happening in the bar, took a step back. “What the hell is going on?”
“My eyes can see,” I said.
Neil turned his head. “What?”
“My tongue can taste.”
“What?” he said to me.
Just then, Barry grabbed Neil’s shoulder and pulled him away. “What kind of crap is—?”
But as Neil spun, he made a fist, put all of his momentum behind it, and punched Barry square in the face.
Blood gus
hed from Barry’s nose and he windmilled his arms to keep from falling on his backside. A veteran of dozens of fistfights, Barry powered through the pain, recovered quickly, and charged.
Before he got more than a step, Jack Creel and one of his bouncers intercepted. Barry tried to break away, but old Jack growled at him and pointed to the door.
“That’s it, Barry,” Jack growled. “You’re out of here. And if you don’t leave now, I’ll ban you for good!”
Frank and Troy rushed in to save their friend.
“We got him,” Frank said. The two of them dragged Barry away.
“This ain’t over,” Barry yelled at me from the door. “I promise you that. And you know I keep my promises.”
Once the trio was safely off the premises, the bartender and his staff set about cleaning up the mess on the dance floor. Jack signaled the band to resume their set and gradually, everything returned to normal.
Everyone seemed completely unaware how close they had come to disaster. I had lost control for a brief moment.
I let Beth pull me back to the table. I was appalled at myself.
“Hey, that was a pretty good punch, Neil,” John said in a shaky voice as the two followed behind. “Both the giving and the taking.”
“Shut up, John,” said Beth. She was staring at me as if expecting me to burst into tears at any moment. The truth was I was very close to it. Beth put her arms around me in a hug.
“Come on, honey,” she said in a calming voice. “Sit down. Have something to drink.”
She held my glass of water to my mouth, and I automatically grabbed it and took a sip. The left side of my face was growing numb from Barry’s hand.
I said, “I think we should go.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Beth countered. “Barry’s gone; he won’t be back. Don’t let that ass ruin the rest of our evening. Look, everyone’s moving on as if it never happened.”
But they weren’t. I could tell. Nervous eyes darted in my direction from all corners of the room. There was no way anyone could lay blame on me for shattered glasses and spilled drinks. In the heat of battle, events can be confusing. Your mind plays with timelines if it can’t remember exactly the sequence of events. And without facts to fill in the blanks, imagination and rumor takes over.
There’s the girl who killed her folks. Everywhere she goes trouble follows.
And then there was Neil. Only he and Barry had seen the look on my face as the power overcame me, as I lost control of the fire inside. What would he think of me? That was twice now that he’d seen me at my worst.
Furtively, I glanced up at him. There was an inscrutable look on his face.
It was all too much for me to process, and I couldn’t think with everyone looking at me. I needed to get away and be alone.
“Beth, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. Can you get John to take me home?”
She fixed me with a level gaze, and then finally shook her head.
“Nonsense,” she declared. “We’ll all go together.”
We gathered our purses and filed out of the bar.
Neil was silent on the trip home. He rubbed his jaw a few times, and winced whenever he poked a particularly sensitive spot. I didn’t initiate any conversation and neither did he. I was far too vulnerable and uncertain, and I didn’t want to hear what he thought about me. His impression of me was certainly colored by now, and I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to talk to me again. Whenever he and I were together, he ended up in a fight. That was two strikes against me, and I wasn’t sure I was up to chancing a third.
When we reached the motel, Beth stepped out of the van and gave me a hug.
“You going to be all right?”
I put my hand to my face. It had to be blazing red by now. “Yeah. Maybe a pack of ice and a few aspirins.”
She gingerly touched my cheek. “No, I meant about Barry.”
“I know. I almost think I should never have come back.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she told me. “Listen—get a good night’s sleep. I’ll come over tomorrow and we can hash this through. We’ll figure something out. Don’t stress. You know you’ll always have me.”
“Thanks, Beth.”
I gave her a firm hug, and stepped back as she got into the van. With a wave, John smiled and put the vehicle into gear.
When they were gone, I slowly turned to Neil, who waited a few steps away. His eyes were smiling gently, but his lips were drawn tight.
“You must think the worst of me,” I finally said. “A walking disaster.”
“Hey, no. This isn’t your fault at all. It’s not like you went looking for trouble.”
“No, I don’t have to,” I said in a dry voice. “I’m like a magnet for trouble.”
“I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t let it get to you.” He gave me a look of deep concern.
“Yeah.” I took half a step closer to him, then changed my mind and stepped back.
“Look,” he said, and was brave enough to close the gap between us and put his hands on my arms. “Maybe you just need some time to work this through. I’d still like to buy you that cup of coffee.”
I laughed, though it sounded dry to my ears. “Thanks. I guess I just need to sort things out. Hey, and thanks for coming to my rescue again.”
“Not at all.” This time both his eyes and his mouth smiled. “I think I’m going to take your advice,” he said. “A couple of ice packs would do me good.”
He didn’t kiss me goodnight, and that was a good thing. In my frame of mind, I would probably have reacted badly. At that moment, I needed friends more than anything, and knowing that I had Beth and John, and now Neil, on my side might have been just enough to get me through the next few days.
But it wasn’t enough. After Neil gave my arms a final squeeze and went inside, I raced to my room and pulled the duffel back out of my closet.
In no time, I had all my clothes and toiletries packed.
* * *
I had two choices, when it came down to it. If I stayed in Middleton, Barry would never leave me alone. This farce would continue until one or the other of us was in jail, the hospital, or the morgue. Bullies invariably backed down when they knew they knew they couldn’t get their own way with force. But Barry had gone beyond this; he had come to a point where he was ruled by animal jealousy.
Staying meant disaster, and that was a certainty. Or I could hit the road and try to build a life somewhere else; start over. It meant leaving behind my friends, abandoning what was left of my family, and that was the toughest part of it. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I packed, but I knew I was making the right decision.
With a deep sob, I wiped the tears from my eyes, threw on my jacket, and walked out.
I got three steps into the parking lot when a familiar voice sliced through the night and stopped me dead in my tracks.
Chapter Thirteen
“So you’re just going to cut and run?” Aunt Martha asked me, her voice tight. I could sense her disappointment, and for that I felt a deep shame.
She sat on the wooden bench outside the office that Uncle Edward had hand carved twenty years ago. Wearing a light red jacket over her nightgown to protect her from the chill air, she looked homey and comforting. Narrowed eyes and pursed lips told me she was anything but relaxed.
In her hands she held two steaming mugs.
Tentatively, I approached the bench. Aunt Martha scooted over and made room for me. When I sat down with a heavy sigh, she handed me a mug. It was hot chocolate—with marshmallows.
A teardrop fell into my drink; I wiped the next one away with the back of my hand.
“It’s just too hard, Aunt Martha. It’s not working out.”
“Pish-posh,” she declared. “What’s life without a little adversity?”
When I glanced up at her, her eyes had softened. She winked and took a sip of hot chocolate.
I said, “You have no idea what happened tonight.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, alarmed. I could only guess what she had heard.
Aunt Martha said, “I’ve known old Jack Creel for years. He called not ten minutes ago.”
“What did he say?”
The hot chocolate was cooling quickly in the night air, so I gulped it down before it got too cold.
“He said you were pretty much minding your own business, just having fun with your friends, and Barry showed up and made an ass of himself again.”
“Yeah. I kick myself every time he comes around. Whatever possessed me to marry that jerk…?”
“Your mother was impetuous when she was a teenager,” said Aunt Martha. “Trouble was her middle name, and you inherited that. There’s a wild streak runs through your side of the family.”
“Not Uncle Edward—”
“No. He’s the total opposite of your sister.” She shook her head and smiled. “When she spent that summer away, I’m sure your grandparents were as much relieved as they were distraught.”
A maudlin silence hung between us then as we remembered my mother. The conversation wasn’t helping me; I was feeling even more downhearted than after the run-in with Barry.
“So, tell me,” Aunt Martha said in a measured voice. “What else happened tonight?”
A cold chill ran down my spine. “What do you mean? With Neil?”
“No, though anytime you want to have a birds and bees talk, or even a gossip, I’m not too old to chew the fat. No, I meant with Barry.”
There was a very distinct and recognizable tone in her voice. She always used that tone when she knew the answer to a question before she even asked it.
My gut cramped. Did she know my secret? Of course she wasn’t talking about that, I told myself. How could she know?
I raced through my memories, searching for any sign or reference that Aunt Martha knew about this power that had afflicted me for the past ten years. As far as I could remember, I had not breathed a word of this thing inside me to any living soul except one: my cellmate, Kyra Michelson, and she had taken my secret to the grave.
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