by P J Gordon
Kastl paused in the doorway for a moment, and then spoke to Manda very quietly. “You aren’t thinking clearly right now, Manda. You should see him. Talk to him.”
“Why? I won’t make him feel guilty for getting on with his life, for not waiting for his dead girlfriend to miraculously return from the grave—the girlfriend who thinks he’s a monster and would rather die than be like him. He doesn’t need me complicating his life.”
The hurt and despair in her voice were like physical blows to Richard and he flinched. His expression as he looked at Kastl was tormented. Kastl shook his head and locked his gaze on Richard as he responded to Manda.
“You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to expose our secret in front of the whole world. I figured that out right away. I’m sure he did too.” Kastl looked meaningfully at Richard. “Don’t you think it should be up to him to decide? Besides, you can’t hide forever. You know he’ll find out your alive sometime.”
“By then it won’t matter. It probably doesn’t even matter now,” she responded hopelessly.
Richard wanted to shout out a denial to that outrageous lie.
“I don’t belong in his life anymore. I’ve done enough damage and he’ll be happy with...with her. He’ll be happy.” Her voice faded off into a whisper.
“What about you?” Kastl asked her gently and he pushed Richard forward into the bedroom with a nod. In all of the years Richard had known Kastl, he’d never known the other man to give anything away emotionally. He had always been detached and cold as ice, but at that moment the pain in the other man’s eyes told Richard exactly how much this was costing him.
“What about me?” Manda moaned in dismissal of her feelings, and Richard recognized the emotion in her voice. Manda was spiraling into the same black sea of hopelessness from which he’d narrowly escaped just that morning. He was beside her bed in one swift, soundless motion, her need drawing him like a magnet.
He heard Kastl move quickly and silently away and looked back to see him standing near the door to the corridor.
“You deserve to be happy, too,” Kastl called just loudly enough for Manda to hear, and with those words Richard understood the sacrifice the other man was making. He would walk away if that’s what it would take to make her happy.
Richard turned back to Manda, who was curled up on the bed. There she was. There was his Manda. He was afraid that if he reached out to touch her she would vanish—a dream. Then her whispered response to Kastl’s parting words stripped away his hesitation.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Richard sat down on the bed behind her. He leaned over her and very gently stroked her cheek with a finger. He heard the faint click of the door as Kastl left them. Manda froze.
Richard leaned closer and whispered softly. “It matters to me.”
At the touch of his hand Manda had stiffened in shock, but the sound of his voice galvanized her. Instantly she scrabbled away from him to huddle trembling on the far side of the king-sized bed like a cornered animal. Terror contorted her face and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“No, no, no. Not again,” she pleaded in a tortured whimper. “Please, not again. Not now.”
A dagger of pain and doubt slashed through Richard. She didn’t want to see him. He’d almost caused her death. Had the horror he’d brought down on her left her terrified of him? His stomach churned with self-loathing. Kastl was wrong. He was hurting her again by coming here.
“Manda...,” he began hesitantly, one hand reaching reflexively toward her. He couldn’t think of any words to make things right though, and he faltered, dropping his hand back to the bed.
Manda opened her eyes uncertainly at the sound of his voice, the terror that twisted her tear-streaked face turning to a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
“Richard?” she whispered tentatively.
Hope rekindled in Richard’s chest. “Manda, it’s me,” he replied.
With a small cry she scrambled back across the bed and into his welcoming arms. Richard crushed her to him, burying his face in the sweet, softness of her hair. He inhaled deeply and her scent suffused him with warmth.
“Oh Manda. I’ve missed you so much,” he groaned.
She clung to him, her face pressed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.
“Richard, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she sobbed brokenly. “I couldn’t tell you. He said I couldn’t tell you! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean any of the awful things I said.” Her perfect misery rendered her almost incoherent.
“No, Manda! No. Don’t be sorry. You’re safe. That’s what’s important. Shhhh. It’s okay, sweetie.” Richard stroked her hair and tried to soothe her, but her sobs continued unabated. “Shhhh. Don’t cry, Manda. It’s all over. I’m here.”
She continued to cling to him as her distress escalated. He remembered what Kastl had said about nightmares. He’d also said she hadn’t slept in days. She was edging into hysteria and he suspected that shock and exhaustion had caught up with her. Reason would be wasted on her in her present state. He held her close to him, comforting her as best he could.
“Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. Shhhh,” he crooned in her ear as he rocked her tenderly. “It’s over. Shhhh.”
He wasn’t sure how long it took her to cry herself out as he hummed a soothing lullaby, but he continued to hold her long after she had finally drifted into sleep, softly stroking her face, her arms, her hair. His thirsty eyes drank in her lovely face, shadowed now by dark circles under her eyes. He breathed her scent and felt the pulsing of her heartbeat beneath her skin. It was like food for his starving soul. He still couldn’t quite believe that she was here, that she was alive. The warmth of her skin against his fingers was a constant and necessary reassurance. He imagined holding her in his arms twenty-years in the future. She would be older but still beautiful. He would be older as well. It was strange to imagine himself physically older. What would their future hold? Their future. He savored the sound of that.
Chapter 54
It was almost noon when the growling of Manda’s stomach finally woke her. She yawned and stretched as awareness slowly returned. She rubbed her gritty eyes and peered around the unfamiliar room, blinking and disoriented. The fog of sleep was slow to dissipate. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly. The nightmares had rendered her wary of sleep. The thought of the nightmares brought awareness flooding back. She remembered where she was and how she’d come to be there. She remembered the concert and Kastl bringing her to the hotel and getting them rooms. She remembered...Richard? She bolted upright, a sudden flash of hope stripping away the last remnants of sleep. Her eyes searched the bedroom in an instant.
As quickly as it had flared, the hope extinguished, leaving an overwhelming desolation in its wake. She was alone. She lay back down and curled onto her side, closing her eyes again. A dream. It had just been another dream. A new dream, though. One much more insidious than the nightmares she’d had before. Where the nightmares had awakened her in terror night after night, this dream lulled her into a fantasy of happiness, making the sense of loss upon waking even worse than the terror had been. No, not Richard. Just a dream.
From the sitting room she heard a knock on the door of the suite. She could hear Kastl crossing to open the door, followed by the low rumble of voices and the rattling of dishes. Though it had been her hunger that had pulled her from slumber, the thought of food was unappealing now. Maybe she could just go back to sleep. Maybe the dream would come again. It would almost be worth the price in pain she would have to pay when she woke.
She heard Kastl enter the bedroom and, judging by the clattering sound, place a tray of dishes on the dresser.
“Manda, are you awake? I ordered us some breakfast...well, lunch now I suppose.”
But it wasn’t Kastl. Just as it had been the night before, it was Richard’s rich, warm voice that surprised her.
“Richard!” she launched herself from the bed toward him as
he crossed the room on bare feet. “It’s really you! It wasn’t just a dream!”
He grunted as she collided with him, and then wrapped his arms around her with a chuckle.
“Feeling better this morning, are we?” he asked, sounding pleased and relieved.
Manda looked up into the eyes she’d missed so urgently for so many months and suddenly her vision blurred with tears. “Much better now.” She couldn’t believe he was really here. She’d longed to feel his arms around her like this for so long. He gazed down into her eyes tenderly and brushed her hair from her face.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, not able to find words adequate to describe the shattering ache she’d felt without him. She wanted to drink in the sight of his face but her tears were turning it into a blur. She wiped them away impatiently.
Richard smiled his radiant smile, the one that made her feel like she was looking at the sun, and bent down to kiss her once on each damp cheek. Then his lips found hers and she felt the sun burning through her chest instead of her eyes.
Much too soon the kiss ended and he took a steadying breath.
“And I’ve missed you,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to her cheekbone just in front of her ear and pulled away slightly to study her face. He brushed his fingers lightly across her wet cheeks. “No more tears, sweetie. It’s okay now.”
His admonition abruptly brought to mind her hysterics of the night before and she looked down with a soft groan.
He tipped her chin back up with one finger, forcing her to look at him again. His expression was worried. “What’s wrong?”
“Last night,” she admitted, mortified. “I was a mess. I’m surprised you are still here this morning. I don’t know what that was. I’m sorry. I….” she trailed off miserably.
“You were sleep deprived and understandably upset. That’s what that was,” he cupped her face in his hands. “None of which was your fault, so no apologies. Are you feeling better today?”
She considered the question. She wasn’t sure how she felt. Her mind was still trying to catch up to events, and the emotional roller coaster she was on was leaving her feeling as if all of her bones had been turned to water. She was afraid the roller coaster was headed for another drop, but she shied away from that, determined to enjoy the moment.
“I feel...limp,” she admitted.
“You need to eat.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, where he settled her against the pillows. “Don’t move!” He went back and retrieved the tray of sandwiches and soft drinks from the dresser and placed it on the nightstand. He seated himself beside her, with his back propped against the headboard, and then effortlessly pulled her into his lap sideways.
Cradled in the safety of Richard’s arms, Manda tipped her head to the side and rested it against his shoulder. She felt his lips press against the top of her head and she sighed again—a contented sound this time.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” she said in wonder, and snuggled deeper into his embrace.
“I can’t believe you’re alive,” he said in a voice suddenly choked with emotion. “I...” he cleared his throat and then went on in a lighter teasing tone. “I think we should eat. I’m starving, and I could hear your stomach growling in your sleep.”
She tipped her head back to scowl up at him. “You did not!”
“I did. It was only fear of your imminent starvation that drove me from you,” he jested, and then continued tenderly. “It was the only thing that could pry my arms from around you. I wanted to hold you and watch you sleep forever. Now, eat!”
He picked up a sandwich from the tray and handed it to her, then took one for himself. He eyed her sternly until she started eating, and then polished his off quickly.
She giggled, her mouth full, and he glared down at her suspiciously. She quickly swallowed and giggled again.
“You shouldn’t wolf down your food,” she scolded with a grin.
Richard chuckled and hugged her closer. “Oh, I’ve missed you Manda Jensen!”
Manda’s thoughts tried to take her toward the precipice she knew was ahead, but she shied away again, focusing instead on the feel of Richard’s arms around her...and on finishing her sandwich—grilled cheese on sourdough bread, her favorite. Of course Richard had remembered.
Under his watchful gaze she dutifully ate every last crumb. When she was done, he popped the top on one of the soft drink cans and handed it to her. She took one long drink and handed it back. He returned it to the tray.
“Better?” Richard asked, bending his head to peer into her eyes.
“Mmm, yes,” she answered gratefully. “Less hollow.”
“Good,” he said with a satisfied nod. “Now...”
He very deliberately removed her from his lap and settled her against the pillows again. Then he shifted himself around until he sat facing her, cross-legged on the bed. He picked up both of her hands and held them in his own large, steady ones.
“We have to talk,” he said firmly.
Manda felt the ground fall away beneath her. She’d anticipated these words. I’m so glad you’re alive, but we need to talk. She’d been trying to put off this inevitable moment since first hearing Richard’s voice, but she couldn’t avoid it now. The feelings of dread and loss were unbearable, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze levelly. Emotion drained away and her face assumed the calm, still mask.
Richard’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t, Manda,” he said sharply.
“Don’t what?” she asked, puzzled by his sudden irritation.
“Stop it!” he said, angrily now. “Don’t you dare!”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, confused but composed.
“Don’t shut me out, Manda. Don’t start throwing up those walls around yourself that keep everyone from getting too close! Don’t do that to me, not now,” Richard said with desperation creeping into his voice. He growled, still holding her hands. “You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but I’ve seen you build those walls over and over, whenever you’re afraid, whenever someone might get close enough to hurt you.”
“What do you want from me, Richard?” Manda asked, mystified.
“I want you to trust me,” he implored her. “I love you Manda, and no matter what happens, you need to know that will never change.”
“But?” she asked expectantly, waiting for the rest. But I thought you were dead and I’ve fallen in love with someone else.
“But nothing,” he stated flatly. “I love you and want to be with you for the rest of my life. No qualifiers or limiters at all.” His eyes drilled into hers then, his voice compelling. “I love you! Do you understand that? Can you please understand that and stop trying to shut me out?”
Manda wanted to believe him with all her heart, but didn’t dare. Images of him with the tall, lovely Chelsea tormented her. She was always so poised and confident in the spotlight beside Richard. How could Manda ever compete with that? Conflicting emotions struggled within her—a turmoil of hope against fear. Her instinct was to downplay her hurt. Never let them see you cry. But he said he loved her and wanted to be with her. Never let them see you cry, the little voice repeated. No guts no glory, another part of her fired back with a cliché of its own.
“What about Chelsea?” she forced herself to ask, hope finally conquering fear. The stabbing pain when she said the name left her breathless.
To her astonishment, a wide smile spread across Richard’s face, like the dawning of the sun again. “Thank you, my sweet Manda,” he breathed fervently.
“For what?” She was completely baffled by his unexpected turnabout.
“For letting me in. For opening yourself up to me enough to let me see what’s hurting you. For asking the question whose answer terrifies you and for caring enough to ask it anyway.”
Dropping her hands, he leaned forward and pulled her face close. His lips pressed against hers in a tender kiss. After an eternity he pulled away from her with a contented
sigh. She was breathless for a different reason now.
“I love you, Amanda Jensen. You and only you. Please try to remember that,” he chided her. Then he grew more serious and continued warily.
“Chelsea is dead...”
“Oh, Richard! I’m...,” Manda started to interrupt, but Richard continued without pause.
“...and not a minute too soon,” he declared coldly. “She and her daughter. I just wish we’d been able to catch her before they ever had a chance to hurt you.” Anguish twisted his features.
Manda’s head was spinning in earnest now. “Richard, what are you talking about? Please.”
He clasped her hands in his again, stroking her wrists with his thumbs.
“Chelsea was sick and dangerous and so was her daughter. They were the ones who tried to kill you at the baseball game.” He watched her face carefully, waiting for her reaction.
Manda shuddered, the memory of the attack still terrifying even after so many months. Richard, noticing her agitation, lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss into each palm.
“How did you find out?” she whispered hoarsely, imagining his shock and hurt when he discovered such a horrible truth about someone he cared about and trusted.
“It wasn’t like that, sweetie,” he corrected her, understanding the tenor of her thoughts. “I knew who she was from the beginning, but we didn’t know who was helping her and I had to keep her close until we could find out.”