“I’ve seen you come back from those kinds of jobs before. I’m the person who patched you up every time. I know they’re anything but simple. So don’t try to pretend this is all just a cakewalk.” She shakes her head, afraid of what he isn’t telling her. “It’s dangerous, isn’t it? It would have to be; otherwise they wouldn’t agree to let you go if you go through with it. It has to be worth their while. How long will you be gone for? When will you be back?”
Wesley takes her hands in his and pulls her towards him, splaying her hands out over his chest so she can feel his heart beating against his muscular chest. “You don’t need to know anything more than I’ve already told you, Bel.” His dark eyes are impenetrable as he stares at her hard.
“How can you say that? How can you just expect me to wave as you leave without having any idea when you’ll be back or even if you’ll be back at all?” Isabel shakes her head. “I can’t do that, Wes. I can’t wait around, not knowing if I’m going to ever see you again.”
Wesley brings her in closer to his chest, holding her tight against him. “I’m going to come back, Isabel. I promise you that.”
But she’s already shaking her head. “But you can’t. You can’t promise that. You don’t know.”
“I’m coming back, Isabel. I’m coming back. All I need to know is that you’ll wait for me.” He whispers the words against her lips. “I need to know you’ll be here when I get back.”
Before she’s even had time to think about it, before her brain has even processed what her body is doing she’s nodding, unable to speak in case she starts to cry.
“Say the words, Bel. I need to hear you say it.” He strokes her cheek with the back of his hands, looking deep into her green eyes as if he is discovering something new each time he sees her.
“I’ll wait for you.” She whispers them against his lips. “I’ll wait for you.” She leans in closer to him, sealing the promise with a kiss.
“I love you, Isabel, and I’m coming back for you.” His words echo in her ears even after he’s gone from her arms.
CHAPTER 8
“How long has it been?” Jamie’s voice in her ear is calm, but Isabel hears the concern that she’s trying not to show.
“Eight days.” Isabel rubs her eyes, grateful that the hour difference between Chicago and New York made it just about acceptable to call Jamie at this ungodly hour of the morning. Just about. “I could go into hours and minutes if you were looking for that kind of detail, though.” She chuckles mirthlessly
“And he didn’t give you any way of getting in touch with him? Nothing at all?” This is what has been most difficult for Jamie to grasp, no matter how many times Isabel assured her that is the case.
“No, Jamie, it’s the same answer since the last time you asked.” Isabel rolls her eyes at her friend.
“Hey, no sarcasm before seven. That’s the rule, Bishop!” Jamie sighs loudly and Isabel can imagine her lifting her eye mask and squinting at the too-bright sunlight invading her bedroom. “Jesus, who knew it was so light at this time of the morning? It should really be the middle of the night.”
“Welcome to an early start, Jamie! Better late than never!” Isabel laughs at the stream of unrepeatable insults her friend spouts off. Jamie’s language is always far more colorful first thing in the morning, before she’s had her first coffee. Isabel smiles at the knowledge of that single fact, grateful there are some things that are still certain, some things that she can still hold onto despite everything.
“So have you asked Rosa to cast some of her magic tea leaves?” Jamie has always believed in all of that stuff much more than Isabel.
“No, but I’m getting to that point so things must be bad.” Isabel rubs her eyes again, trying to figure out how much sleep she’s actually managed to get.
“Issy.” Jamie pauses and Isabel already knows what she’s going to say before the words come out.
“He’s coming back, Jamie.” She sounds more certain of it than she actually feels.
“But what if -”
Isabel chops the air in half with the side of her hand, cutting her friend off. “I can’t think about what ifs, Jamie. I have to believe he’s going to come back to me. I have to, because if I don’t, I don’t know how to do anything else.”
She shakes her head, wondering when her happiness had become so intricately tied to Wesley, when the thought of him alone was enough to make her feel better, like anything was possible. Please come back to me, she sends a prayer up to anyone that’s willing to listen. Please come back to me.
MILES AND MILES AWAY, Wesley thinks about Isabel, the one bright spot in his life in a long time. He keeps her in his mind, knowing she’s the only thing that’s going to help him get back to where he needs to be. He grips the old wound in his leg, feeling the fiery burn of pain, as if the shrapnel is being picked out of it again. His hand comes away from his pants wet and he lifts it up to his face. Even in the dark he can see the color.
Red. Deep red.
“Oh shit.” He can barely get the words out through his gritted teeth. He applies pressure to his leg, focusing on the promise that he made.
“I’m coming back, Bel. I’m coming back.” He takes another step and then another, but he’s lost too much blood, his legs give out from underneath him.
He sits in the dirt, resting his back against the building he’s collapsed outside of. “I’m coming back, Bel. I just have to rest a little first.”
His eyes droop close and the last thing he sees in his mind before he loses consciousness is the face of a woman with green eyes, eyes that saw right through to his soul the first time she looked at him. He thinks about the woman he loves and then darkness overtakes him.
CHAPTER 9
Rosa pulls the candles out of the cake, shaking her head in dismay. She had been so sure he would be back by now. She’d cast the leaves, more than once. There is no mistaking it. Something must have happened, something must have happened to stop him from coming. She had seen the way he had looked at Isabel before he had left. There’s no doubt in Rosa’s mind that if he were able to come back to her, he would have.
Today is supposed to be that day. He is supposed to be back for Isabel’s birthday; that is what the leaves had told her. Rosa has never been wrong before, not about something like this. It is a new experience and not one she is in any hurry to repeat. She is grateful, at least, that she hasn’t said anything to Isabel. Rosa had wanted to let her have the surprise, to see her eyes light up as she had seen him appear at the door of the boarding house.
Rosa remembers that feeling. It was the way she felt when Mario had come to her house to call for her. She shakes her head at herself. Thoughts of a man she hasn’t seen in decades are never very far from her. She knows better than anyone that it is no way to live. There is a part of the story she hadn’t told Isabel, a part she, herself, tried to forget.
Rosa had tried to find Mario after she moved to the States. She had wanted to know if he had ever gone back for her, if he had loved her enough for that. What she had found out had made her wish that she had never started looking for him. He had been killed in a gun battle in the streets of Sicily only a few days after she had sent him away. She has never forgiven herself and she has never forgotten him.
Please don’t let it happen again. Please don’t let it happen to Isabel, not after everything she’s been through. Rosa makes the sign of the cross and looks up to the sky, hoping her words will have some effect this time. They hadn’t saved Mario; she can only hope they will save another man, very much like him. Isabel deserves to be happy; it’s her turn.
“What are you looking so sad about? I thought I was supposed to be the one who was moody about getting another year older.” Isabel playfully nudges Rosa as the other woman tidies away the candles and starts slicing the cake.
“I not sad.” Rosa shakes her head, concentrating on not looking at Isabel. The girl is far too perceptive for her own good and she doesn’t want to give any of
her concerns away, not today. “I just think about your mother, how she would want to be here.” It’s not a lie; it’s just not the whole truth.
Isabel’s smile turns sad and she bites her lip the way the she does when she’s trying to keep her emotions in check. “I know; I miss her, too.” She sighs deeply, dipping her finger into the icing of one of the cakes Rosa has cut and licking it off, thoughtfully. “It’s my first birthday without her. It’s weird. I never thought there would be a time when she wouldn’t be around to celebrate with me.” Isabel shakes her head, knowing she sounds naïve. Everyone knows that, sooner or later, people die. She just wishes she’d been more prepared for her mother’s passing. She wonders if there’s ever any way to prepare for something like that, though. Losing someone you love is just one of those things that blindsides you.
Purposefully, Isabel pushes the thought of Wesley away. It has been over two weeks now and still no sign of him. Rosa keeps giving her sneaky sidelong glances and Isabel knows she is worried about her. Isabel has been doing her best to go about her day-to-day routine, her life as normal, pretending that she wasn’t thinking about Wesley, that he didn’t seem to consume the major part of her thoughts. It turns out she’s not much of an actress.
She and Rosa sit together, each eating their slice of Rosa’s homemade chocolate cake and a weighty silence settles over them. Rosa seems to sense it and tries to fill it with chatter, but Isabel finds it almost impossible to get caught up in any kind of conversation at the moment. She knows she’s not the most fun to be around but she’s not really in the celebrating spirit.
“What did you wish for?” Rosa nudges Isabel with her elbow when she sees the younger woman has stopped eating. “When you blow candles out, what did you wish for?”
Isabel smiles at her. “I guess I should probably say world peace.” She shakes her head at her own greediness. Her wish was nothing as magnanimous or expansive as that. It was something much less selfless than that. “But you and I both know that would be a lie.”
Rosa opens her mouth and then closes it again, as if she’s working up to saying something.
“What?” Isabel gives her a pointed look. “You’ve never been one to keep your thoughts to yourself.”
Instead of replying, Rosa just takes a larger than average piece of cake and fills up her mouth, making it impossible for her to speak.
Isabel is about to ask her if something’s wrong as the older woman is acting even weirder than normal when the sound of the doorbell silences her. Both women look at each other, their eyes wide, neither wanting to preempt the arrival of the man they’re both waiting for. They sit there for a few moments in silence, as if they’ve both forgotten what you’re supposed to do when someone rings at the door.
“Go on, girl!” Rosa virtually pushes Isabel out of her chair, ushering her towards the front door, excitement in her eyes.
Isabel heads to the front door as if in a dream. It has to be him; it has to be. There isn’t any other possibility. She takes a deep breath, trying to tell her beating heart to calm itself before it jumps out of her chest. Her fingers fumble with the bolt on the door in her haste to get it open and as it swings on its hinges arms are flung around her and she almost goes toppling to the floor.
“Happy birthday!” Jamie’s voice is shrill in Isabel’s ear as her friend gives her the tightest hug imaginable.
Isabel’s arms go around her best friend automatically and she hugs her back, fighting the tears that, unbidden, have started to take up residence just behind her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
As if she senses something’s up, Jamie pulls back a little and looks at her friend in the face. “Oh, honey! I should have called first, shouldn’t I?” Jamie winces as she realizes what the expression on Isabel’s face means. “I thought I’d go for the whole surprise element, but now I’m starting to massively regret that decision.”
Isabel shakes herself. Get a grip, Bishop. “Don’t be silly!” She throws her arm over her best friend’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She musters a smile as she guides Jamie through to the kitchen where Jamie receives a welcoming embrace from Rosa along with a hefty slice of cake.
“I thought you couldn’t get away?” Isabel recovers her equanimity enough to at least pretend to eat the chocolate goodness sitting on her plate.
Jamie waves her fork around, her mouth too full to talk. “A shoot got cancelled; one of the models had to be checked in to rehab.” Jamie shrugs as if this is a common occurrence. It isn’t much of a stretch to believe that it is. “When I got the call I figured what better way to spend Independence Day weekend than with my best girl?” She bumps Isabel with her shoulder, grinning at her.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Isabel bumps her friend back. Although she hadn’t expected to see Jamie, she’s more than grateful she’s here. There is something about having Jamie close by that makes everything seem a little better.
“So how’s your birthday been so far?” Jamie looks around at the immaculate kitchen. “Looks like a party!” She snorts as Isabel nudges her in the ribs.
“Don’t be cheeky, Miss Jamie,” Rosa threatens with her fork. “We have busy day; all rooms full for the holiday weekend.” Rosa preens like a peacock and Isabel can’t help but smile at how invested the other woman is in the boarding house. She has already started to think about her future, what she is going to do with the house and Rosa is going to feature prominently in those plans. “Well, almost all the rooms.” Rosa looks meaningfully at Jamie and rolls her eyes as if to say ‘I don’t know what to do; see if you can talk to her.’
“You’ve kept his room free?” Jamie asks the question in a low voice. There’s no need for her to identify who the mystery ‘he’ is. There’s only one person it can possibly be.
“Thanks, Rosa. Remind me never to confess any of my deepest and darkest secrets to you. They’ll end up published in the paper the next day!” Isabel shakes her head but smiles good-naturedly at the other woman.
“It’s late. I let you ladies talk.” Rosa beats a hasty retreat, only pausing to cut herself another slice of cake before disappearing.
“I’ve never seen her move so fast.” Jamie’s eyes are wide as she looks towards where the other woman disappeared.
“I think she’s hoping you’ll talk some sense into me.” Isabel gives up on pushing the chocolate cake around her plate and puts her fork down.
“And since when have I ever been able to do that?” Jamie raises an eyebrow.
“I think we’re both as stubborn as each other, J, so you’re not going to win that argument.” Isabel laughs as her friend empties the remnants of her cake onto her own plate and starts inhaling what Isabel has left.
Jamie shrugs, moving on from that particular impasse. “So tomorrow, birthday BBQ?”
“Sounds great.” Isabel nods, enjoying the fact that she’ll have something to focus on other than how much she misses Wesley.
“Great. Well, it’s late and we know that mommy dearest will be pissed if she knows I’m back in town and I haven’t swung by to see her.” Jamie rolls her eyes, though she’s not fooling anyone. Jamie and her mom have grown closer since she moved to New York and there’s no doubt in Isabel’s mind her best friend is loving every minute of her mother’s overbearing nature, something she had never exercised when they were in high school.
Isabel walks Jamie to the door and Jamie chucks her playfully under the chin. “You better be careful. If the wind changes, your face is going to stay like that, you know.” She glances meaningfully at her friend before slipping out of the door.
“Always good to know I can depend on you not to do the comforting, ‘everything’s going to be all right’ speech.” Isabel rolls her eyes at Jamie.
“You know that’s why you love me.” She waves and blows her a kiss before skipping down the steps of the front porch and hurrying off into the night.
Isabel stands by the door, looking out for a few moments before she
goes through the ritual of locking up for the night. She takes the plates to the sink and runs the water, her actions becoming automatic as she washes up. Her body is there but her mind is somewhere else entirely, with someone else. She just wishes she knew where that was.
Tiny slivers of doubt are beginning to creep into her mind and though she tries to push them away as soon as they surface, it is getting harder and harder to do. He has been gone for longer than she imagined, longer she’s sure than he planned. And there has been no message, nothing at all. She has no way of knowing if he was all right or if... No, she won’t let herself go down that road. That way lies madness, she reminds herself. It’s going to be hard enough to get to sleep tonight with all the memories swirling around her head; she doesn’t need that thought playing over and over again just to make things even more interesting.
As she dries her hands on the dishtowel, she hears a noise. She freezes, her ears straining hard in the dark. Barely breathing she waits to hear it again. What feels like minutes go by before she hears it again. It sounds like a scratching or a scuffling sort of noise. Her whole body is on high alert, wondering if the Dogs are planning on keeping their word to Wesley, after all. He told her it would just be this one last job, but, perhaps, they have other ideas.
Isabel grabs the baseball bat she started keeping near her after her encounter with the Devil Dogs and heads towards the back porch, the source of the noise. She creeps through the house, rationally knowing that she’s doing something really stupid but she doesn’t stop her progress. With one hand still on her bat, she unlocks the door and steps outside, keeping as silent as she can.
She listens for the noise and hears it again. Her eyes strain to make out anything at all in the thick blackness of the night. There’s a sliver of moon and the air is completely still. It would be a beautiful night if she weren’t so terrified. A sudden pressure against her leg makes her jump and let out a very good impression of a squeal. It’s only when her feet have landed back on solid ground and her brain becomes capable of rational though again that she realizes what it is and she lays the bat on the floor.
Animal Rage Page 7