Better Than the Best

by Amabel Daniels

  Dedication

  Every time in my childhood that I asked, “Why do they, Mama?”, you would smile and patiently think up an answer. You never hesitated to encourage my curiosity with the world around us, especially as I endlessly wondered what makes people tick. As my number one supporter, you’ve embraced my creativity, fostered my love for reading, and always assured me it was okay to run away with my imagination. This one’s for you, Mom. Love you.

  Chapter 1

  At three in the afternoon on Halloween Eve, Kelly should have been on duty on the ER floor, not sitting on the bathroom floor with a towel wrapped around her dripping-wet body. And her husband should have been at his actuary office, not humping another woman in their bed.

  Eyes closed tight, she dialed her best friend. Heather picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Seriously, Kel? You’ve got some nerve to call me after ducking out of work again. This better be good. I’ve got a teen with a severed digit who only speaks Portuguese, a toddler with 103 who won’t stop screaming, and an old man who cut his nuts off, and as of two seconds ago, decided he has to poop.”

  Kelly winced and let her head fall back to the toilet lid. A new LPN was chattering away in the background of the hospital chaos that sounded from the other end.

  “All the way off?”

  “Nearly. He was getting ready for a hot date and the razor couldn’t hold steady. Why are you whispering?”

  Kelly grimaced. She should have known better than to call Heather in the middle of a shift. But the shock of what she had found in the bedroom rendered her numb to common sense.

  “Kel? The dog die or something?” Heather’s impatience calmed rather than annoyed. To hear her voice, anything, to mentally stave off the obscene noise filtering through the door from the master bedroom. Her bossy friend was a semblance of normalcy in her life.

  “John’s cheating on me.”

  After she gasped, Heather’s voice shrilled. “What? Seriously? You finally hired someone to follow him?”

  Kelly squinnied her eyes open. It was one thing to suspect infidelity. It was quite another to be caught in it. Caught in it as a non-participant. “Not really.” She bit her lip.

  “Huh?” Heather threw out a quick order to the LPN. “How long has he been cheating?”

  This time or altogether? She glanced at the clock on the wall. Her not-so-relaxing bath had started a half hour earlier and Kelly was positive her husband wasn’t in the bedroom when she came home. She didn’t want to know how long his affair had been going on.

  “Who is it? O.M.G. Kel! He’s actually cheating? With who?”

  “I don’t know who she is. I need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Amen. I always thought you could do better.”

  Her jaw dropped. “That’s not what you told me the night before I got married!”

  “Well, duh. You were getting married. I had to stand behind you since you had your mind made up.”

  Kelly closed her eyes again, afraid to confess she’d never really made up her mind about John. Bad karma for marrying with doubts was certainly catching up to her.

  “Besides, that was two years ago. He’s never made you happy. A man is supposed to want sex more than once a month.”

  Yeah, he’s been getting it elsewhere.

  The lack of sex was only part of the problem. “You should have told me you didn’t think he was right for me.”

  “Then what?” Heather scoffed. “You would have believed me and not gotten married?”

  She shook her head. They were discussing the beginning of matrimony, not the closure, which appeared to be pending quite rapidly. What about the house? The furniture? Worries escalated and she took a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this later. I need to get out of here.”

  “I’m done at seven. We’ll go out to get you wasted. Maybe Donna can take your shift tomorrow. Not like you wouldn’t call off again anyways.”

  “Shit. I’m scheduled for tomorrow?”

  Heather snorted. “Look, Kel, I know you keep saying you’ve been in a funky mood about John. Looks like you’re right on target about that asshole, but you’ve been acting weird about work for a while. Ever since—”

  “I let Norbert die?”

  “He had a heart attack, Kel. For the last time, it wasn’t your fault.”

  She clenched her fist. “He suffered from a drug interaction. From the damn heparin Betsy gave him at the end of my damn shift. An elementary mistake I should have foreseen and prevented.”

  “You weren’t responsible for her actions. You were her mentor, not her supervisor.”

  “But I should have been there to check it and—”

  “Kel! It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.”

  It wasn’t her fault. Those words were the mantra she fell back on whenever a patient’s death weighed her down. A circle of life and death. Not everyone can be saved. She counted her breaths, scowling when a moan came from the bedroom. “I need to get out of here.”

  “You go tell that bastard you’re leaving him. And come over to my place—”

  “No. Not figuratively. I mean I literally need you to come over and get me out of here.”

  “Here where?”

  “My bathroom.”

  Dings from a heart monitor clicked in an angry succession on the other end as Heather seemed to stall for a reply. Kelly’s shoulder slumped with a renewed wave of guilt for calling Heather. People were hurt. People were dying. John cheated… Yes John’s infidelity sucked in her world but there were people with bigger problems. Real problems. Life or death sorts of problems.

  She couldn’t call any of her four brothers. It was too mortifying and if family came over, there would be fists and injuries. John was cheating? Good riddance. But he wouldn’t stand a chance against her four over-protective older brothers. And then there was Dad…

  “Why do you need me to get you out of the bathroom?”

  “They’re in the master. I came in to take a bath since I had a migraine and they must have thought I wasn’t home since I parked in the garage. They’re going at it like the plane’s going down.”

  “In the bedroom?”

  “Yes.” Kelly opened her eyes and winced at the thumping sounds of the bed in the adjacent room. A scream? She rolled her eyes. Alright, so she wasn’t good enough in bed for her husband, but John had never been spectacular enough to elicit a scream.

  Yeah right. Hellooo, Johnny boy, she’s faking it.

  What about the dog? And the wedding gifts? It was two years ago, but they still hadn’t even opened some of the boxes. There had to be some kind of official etiquette to follow. Her brows sank. Divorce was uncharted territory. And what the hell is the difference between divorce and annulment?

  “They are having sex on your bed in your bedroom.” It should have been a question.

  “Yes!”

  “You’re in the bathroom while your husband is having sex in the bedroom.”

  “Yes!”

  “Do they know you’re in there?”

  “What? No!” Kelly sighed at the obvious. “My iPod was so loud I couldn’t hear a tornado. I turned off the lights to make it like a spa. Then I was trying to relax and not think about Norbert and Betsy, but I couldn’t chill. I mean, baths are like sitting in a puddle of your own filth. I was about to get dressed and saw them in there. I’m trapped. I can’t face him like this. I’m in a towel. I need an upper hand. I can’t have an upper hand in a towel while he’s in another woman!”

  “Who’s in what is beside the point. Kel. Go and face him. You can’t put it off. Be cool. You can do this.”

  “I’d rather be in clothes. And I’d rather not be numb. I can’t think, Heather. I don’t think I can breathe. I’m shocke
d. I know he’s scum but I’m so…”

  “Deep breaths, Kel.”

  “Please, I need you to come over and make them leave. I need a diversion to escape.”

  Desperation annoyed her. Having to enlist help irritated her. Where was a teletransporter when you needed one? Beam me up, Scottie!

  “Escape? It’s your house, too!”

  “Heather, please!”

  Beeps and chatter were louder on the other line. “Girl, you know I’d do anything for you, but we’re slammed. The floor’s been a zoo all morning. I can’t come over. Call your brothers.”

  “They’d kill him.”

  “You think I wouldn’t?”

  Kelly frowned at the closed door. “I can’t face him like this. Not until I scream, or punch something or have alcohol or cry, or…” Tears fell down her cheeks as the stabs surfaced from under the shock of the discovery. Blunt discovery. Infidelity was apparent when…what? A spouse has mysterious calls and credit card receipts. A trend of going out of town or staying out late. Lies that didn’t add up. Maybe the extreme of someone witnessing a kiss or grope that fell outside the boundaries of matrimony. Someone tattling.

  Not walking out of a bathroom and seeing it full-frontal like a low-budget porno.

  “Kel, you can do this. Go out there and tell him—”

  “I can’t burst in there and—”

  “For God’s sake, Kelly, you don’t need a damn invitation to go in your own bedroom.”

  “I don’t want to get involved. I only want out.”

  “How long have they been going at it?”

  “Probably close to an hour now.”

  “Damn.”

  Kelly’s stomach clenched. Yeah, ouch.

  “You can’t be a wimp and hide in the bathroom. I mean, you’re catching him red-handed. Can’t be any clearer.”

  “I didn’t plan on this!” Kelly stood quietly to pace. “I was caught.”

  “No. He was—” Shouts and rushed voices clashed in the background on Heather’s end.

  “Jesus, what did he say? Another stabbing victim? The third this week.” Kelly pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe I even called you. Look, I’m going to crash at your place. I’ll figure something out.”

  Kelly hung up and called for a pizza delivery. She paced until the doorbell rang. After heavy footsteps sounded, she peeked through the slit of the door. John headed for the hallway. It was her only shot to escape and save face.

  Without a second thought, Kelly tiptoed onto the navy blue carpet, wanting to scream as she looked for her clothes. Instead she found her—the other woman. She had a model-worthy body. Smooth skin, no fat, a slutty rose tattoo nearly on her ass. With a start, Kelly gasped in surprise at the woman still in the bed. Her bed. Frozen in place, she watched the woman lazily roll from her stomach to her back.

  Kelly had no desire to scream and throw objects at her husband’s lover’s head. No escalating itch in her throat to become a crazed psycho spewing threats. No tears and sobs were ready to beg him for fidelity the next day. No impulse to create a fourth stabbing victim. What kind of wife was she if she couldn’t fathom some kick ass retaliation?

  Nerves paralyzed, Kelly couldn’t compute a single thing to do or say. She could only stare at the woman who was stealing her husband. The brunette raised her brows, not in surprise, not in alarm, but in something resembling curiosity.

  “Who the hell are you?” she said with ease. Sass, even.

  Kelly’s jaw dropped. Who was she? Her mouth flapped silently in a wordless stammer. Who was she? Who the hell else would she be? It was her house! She narrowed her eyes at the woman and flipped her off.

  Kelly darted through the bedroom, grabbed her clothes and purse, and rushed for the second-floor balcony off the master suite. Curtains waved as she shut the door behind her, the inanimate farewell likely the only one she would get. She slipped her jeans and shirt on over the towel before tossing it to her feet. Her cheeks burned at the whistle from her elderly neighbor as he watered his garden. Wincing at her hurry to extract herself from the betrayal in the bedroom, she had no option but to shimmy down the column to the backyard.

  Only when she fastened her seatbelt in her Subaru did she remember to inhale deeply. On the drive to Heather’s apartment, her emotions clashed and butted in a fury. Numbing shock. Awkward sadness. Heartbreaking pain. Red-cheeked humiliation. Jaw-clenching anger. Most of all, though, what lurked beneath the raw feelings was the rational and solid notion of fear at what would come next.

  Loneliness.

  Chapter 2

  Bright lights blinded Emily as she sat on the bed in the hospital, picking at the cuticle on her thumb. She closed her left eye to the throbbing burn and scanned the room. No cameras. A blood pressure cord hung from a hook, in case she needed to kill the nurse. Closest exit was down the hall to the right.

  She had studied the facility enough to know. A true predator, Emily left nothing to chance in a hunt. In pursuit of confirming her power, always proving she was the best, Emily had hunted many people.

  But not this hunt. Not this target. Instead of stalking a steal, Emily was preparing the chase for that bitch. The damned bitch who took her power.

  Three hours ago, Emily had killed Steal Number Forty. At the memory, her nail lodged under her skin to send blood trickling. Killing usually calmed her, reminding her of her power, her finesse, her control.

  She sucked the blood on her thumb.

  Killing Forty had done nothing to abate her fury for Kelly. After stowing the body, she had maced her eye. In order to get information about Kelly, to start this unprecedented chase, Emily had to get close to Kelly’s bimbo best friend, Heather. Stalking didn’t seem like the appropriate technique. Stalking required waiting, and Emily had no patience to find Kelly. No time for a strategic and careful hunt. And it was risky being back at the hospital.

  Kelly had to be punished for what she did to Forty. Kelly had screwed up Thirty-Nine, too, but it was revenge for Forty Emily sought.

  Emily licked the pulsing cut on her thumb.

  It would be too suspicious if she killed Heather for information, or tortured Daddy dearest for specifics. Macing her eye was a temporary injury, yet severe enough to concoct a way into the ER to get to Heather.

  Emily avoided permanent damage to her body. Like a blank slate, she needed to be able to change it as she had many times in her life. Those many times when she had been unidentifiable.

  Plastic surgery, reductions, implants, haircuts, dyes, tattoos, tattoo removals, piercings. Emily couldn’t count the ways and times she had changed her identity.

  She never left a trace. Ever careful to never leave a clue behind, Emily could come and go, never be remembered except for her current name and role. No one could follow her. But this time, she needed to follow Kelly.

  Heather returned to the room and deposited instruments on the little table. Bottle of water, a salve, junk. Emily darted her gaze, following each of Heather’s motions. Blue illumination of light flashed in the pocket of her scrubs. Cell phone.

  Staggering and moaning, Emily stood up.

  “Take it easy, now.” Heather went to her as she struggled to her feet.

  Leaning her weight into her, Emily slipped her hand down to take the phone. “I need to go to the bathroom.” Emily groaned as Heather’s pager buzzed at her hip.

  “Okay. Okay.” Heather guided her to the tiny bathroom space. “I’ll be back in a second, okay? They need me down the hall for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Emily nodded weakly and shut the door. One eye shut, she sniffled from the mustard oil and peered at the phone. She scrolled through texts from Kelly, learning where she was.

  Finished, Emily tossed the phone to the floor and left the ER undetected.

  ***

  “So when are you going home?” Randy asked Kelly as he slid into his seat across from her.

  She wanted to scream. Go home to what? To whom? To the depressing and s
lightly freaky world of dating and being alone? What about when home wasn’t about a house but a companion? Go back to the only place she’d ever lived and work the job she had cringed to think about as soon as she woke up?

  Eating at the small diner in Churchston, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Kelly Newland, failure at love and life.

  “I’m on vacation.” She shrugged, then grabbed the ketchup bottle from the man sitting across from her. The expiration date was two years ago. She was tired of defending her decisions, and exhausted because she had no real answers. Perhaps her presence in Churchston didn’t make much sense, but nothing in her life did anymore.

  “I thought you said you quit your job,” he said.

  John’s affair was the catalyst for her departure from Atlanta. In the wake of his infidelity, Kelly had let the other elements of her life dissipate as well. She said buh-bye to nursing, leased her house and tried to convince her family she wasn’t crazy when she announced she was moving to Myrtle Beach. Confidence had evaporated across all fronts. In marriage. Home. Work.

  Kelly sucked in her lips, then said, “Yeah. I did. I hated it. I was the most incompetent individual on the floor. Hey,”—she nudged the man next to her—“ask Edna for some ketchup packets.”

  Clay tipped his face up to prevent the food from falling from his mouth as he mumbled a reply. “The bottle’s right there.”

  “This stuff expired years ago.” Kelly slid it away further away on the scuffed and worn tabletop.

  “So if you quit your job, are you on a permanent vacation?” Randy said.

  She faced the realtor opposite the booth she resided in with the local mechanic. “Why twenty questions?”

  “Trying to figure out what your plans are,” Randy said.

  “Let me know when you do.” Kelly leaned around Clay and waved down the waitress.

  She really had meant to move to Myrtle Beach. If she was hunting for a change of scenery, peppy sunny beaches had to be the cure. But a storm had stalled her journey en route to the coast, and she had exited the ramp for Churchston. Edgy from driving, she had checked in to the hotel for a couple days and taken respite walking her mutt, Eddie, along the lake. She hadn’t intended on sticking around.