Envy(132)

“How was she when she left?”

“How do you think she was, Parker?”

He frowned at Mike’s snide comeback, but he didn’t challenge it. He had asked a stupid question with an obvious answer. “She probably felt like she’d been run through a thrasher.”

“You certainly did your part.”

Unlike its predecessor, that cutting remark demanded to be addressed. Parker came around. “Are you suggesting that I’ve been a bad boy?”

“You know it without my saying so.”

“What are you going to do, Mike? Park me in the corner? Ground me for a month? Restrict my TV time? Rap my knuckles with a ruler?”

“Actually, I was thinking that you’re the one who should be run through a thrasher.”

Parker agreed that that was the least he deserved, but, while it was okay for him to think it, he resented hearing it from someone else. “Getting Maris into bed was part of the plot. You probably guessed that.”

“I guessed it. That doesn’t mean I liked it.”

“Nobody asked you to like it.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Like it.”

A scathing retort was on the tip of his tongue, but he foundered under Mike’s incisive stare. Turning his head away, he mumbled, “Irrelevant.”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s not only relevant but key to how you progress from here.”

Parker went back to his keyboard. “Excuse me. I’m trying to write.”

“Fine. Turn your back on me. Stare into that blank screen. Count the ticks of the cursor till hell freezes over, for all I care. Delude yourself into believing that you’re writing. We both know you’re not.”

Parker came back around, angry now. “Obviously you’ve reached a conclusion that you’re just dying to share. So spit it out. Get it out of your system. God knows I won’t have a minute’s peace until you do.”

The older man refused to take umbrage. “I’m not going to fight with you, Parker,” he said evenly. “But yes, I will tell you something you need to hear.” Ignoring Parker’s roll of the eyes, he went on. “You resurrected yourself when, for all practical purposes, your life was over. I was there to help. I needled you and badgered you along. But you did it. It was a heroic effort. You’re to be commended for overcoming incredible obstacles. You beat overwhelming odds. Beyond putting your life back on track, you have thrived.”

“Yea, me.”

The caustic interruption went ignored and Mike doggedly continued. “Your body has healed, but not your soul. The damage done to it was a thousand times worse than the injuries to your legs. Your soul is more twisted than they ever were. Pins and plates hold your bones together, and new skin patches the places where there was no skin left, but your soul hasn’t been mended. It’s still raw and bleeding, and you snarl at anyone who extends a hand to help you heal it.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for years, Mike,” he said sweetly. “I’m a lost cause.”

“You’re not a lost cause, you’re a coward,” Mike shouted angrily. “It takes far less courage to cling to the past than it does to face the future.”

“Very good, Mike. I should write that down. What was it again? ‘It takes far less—’ ”

“Sarcasm? Good. If I’m pissing you off, at least I know I have your attention.” Mike’s lined features softened and turned earnest. “Parker, consign Noah Reed to God. Or to the devil. Let them haggle over who’s to be his judge and what his punishment is to be.

“Then go to Maris. If you can get her to talk to you, lay open your heart. Explain everything. Start at the beginning and tell her all of it. Tell her Noah’s part. Confess yours. She may forgive you. She may not. But either way, you’ll be rid of it. For the first time in fourteen long years, you’ll be free of everything that happened in Key West. You will have saved yourself. Again. And in the only way that really matters.”

Parker’s heart was pounding hard and loudly against his eardrums, but he kept his expression passive. “Good sermon, Mike. Honestly. Very moving. But I’m going to stick to plan A.”

“And throw away a chance to be happy with a woman you love?”

“Love?” he scoffed. “Who said that?”

“You did. Every time you looked at her.”

“Have you been sneak-reading romance novels again? They’re not good for your blood pressure.”

“Okay, be funny. Deny you’re in love with her. You’re only wasting your breath. Maris hit you like those drugs you used to take. The night she came here, you got high on her, and after that you couldn’t get enough. She’s—”

“She’s Noah’s wife.”

Parker felt his control snap like the string on a tennis racket that had been whacked one too many times.

“She is Noah’s ‘dearly beloved, we are gathered here’ bride. That’s the important thing. That’s the only thing,” he yelled, slicing the air with his hand. “Nothing else matters. Not how I feel about her, or how she feels about me, or even how they feel about each other.

“She is Noah Reed’s wife, and I had her. But good. She was finger-f*cked, and tongue-f*cked, and mind-f*cked. By me!” He pounded his chest with his fist, his eyes shimmering with tears spawned by the white-hot rage that consumed him whenever he thought of Noah’s treachery. And now by the agony of his own guilt.