Trespassing(84)

“I’m not so sure.”

“I am.” He presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “Get some sleep, pretty lady. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

I don’t want him to go. I know he can’t stay, but . . .

“If you need me, just call.”

I watch him walk out the door. I lock it behind him.





Chapter 45

December 5

For the first few hours, it wasn’t too much of a trick to stay awake. My heart didn’t cease pounding with adrenaline until long after the police left with a full report of things I know happened tonight but can’t prove.

But now that the numbers on the clock are gradually morphing their way from two to three, my eyes are growing heavy.

I can’t imagine how I’m going to function tomorrow, but I fear that if I sleep, something terrible will happen. Something irreversible.

Another cup of coffee, another glass of water.

It’s impossible to sleep when the urge to pee is ever present.

But I can’t drink anymore. My stomach is starting to gurgle and churn.

I left a message for Guidry; if the mysterious call from the blocked number originated from Key West, I’ll know someone is following me, even if he and his team still prefer to think I’m trying to pull some sort of trick.

Sitting upright in Bella’s bed, with her asleep, snuggling at my side, I almost feel peaceful. My eyelids grow heavy.

I feel the rise and fall of Bella’s chest, and I try to sync my breaths with hers. She’s part of me, and I’m part of her. I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll stand up for her in a way Mama never stood up for me.

Mama . . . an ethereal feeling settles into my skin, my bones, as if I’m hovering in a place between dark and light. A feather on air, I drift through the coils of memories I keep locked away.

She’s on the floor, blood pooling beneath her head and spurting out of her neck, her lips twisted into a grin, and her eyes cold and open. I hold her limp body in my arms, staring down at her as if I can will life back into those eyes.

Eyes like amber stones.

A blink later, her body becomes my babies’.

The sheets are sticky with miscarriage and death.

Bella!

I startle and gasp, a sob lodged at the back of my throat.

Caught in a hammock of sleep paralysis, I can’t move, can’t open my eyes to prove to myself that it’s just a bad dream.

I feather a finger over her cheek.

Warm.

Alive.

And then I smell it—the fading scent of cigarette smoke—and I see, in my mind, the glow of an orange light on the fairway back at the Shadowlands.

I struggle to draw in a breath, but I can’t breathe over the asphyxiating sensation, as if fingers of smoke are curling around my throat.

No, Micah. Don’t do it. Don’t take her away from me!

Micah, Micah, Micah.

If I concentrate, can I bring him back?

Slowly, I expel the smoke from my mind.

Gradually, it fades, giving way to Dolce & Gabbana The One Sport.

Drifting through the air on a surreal breeze, accompanied by the crickets and humming from the lampposts outside.

I smell him, practically feel him sitting next to me.

“Nicki-girl.”

I flinch.

And suddenly, he’s there—Micah—sitting on the edge of the bed and cupping a hand over my feet.

He’s whispering, something about blue.

I taste rum on his breath.

Suddenly, I’m back there, on the wet sand, kissing a man I hardly know. The things I did last night are irreversible.

“Blue what?” I draw in a stuttering breath. I can’t stop shaking. “What?”





Chapter 46

I open my eyes when Elizabella’s shriek of laughter rings in the air.

“That’s so funny, Nini. Do it again.”

Micah.

I gasp and sit up. I’m in Bella’s room, in her bed.

She’s seated on the floor, a scattering of plastic teacups and dollhouse furniture surrounding her. A teddy bear sits on the swing in the corner of the room.

Of course, Micah isn’t here.

It was a dream. It must’ve been.

I fell asleep—obviously—and dreamed Micah had come back to me.

My head whirls.

“Bella.”

“Nini, Mommy’s awake!” She catapults from the floor into my arms and plants a kiss on my lips. “Hungry.”

“Okay, baby. Give Mommy a minute.”

She squirms off my lap.

I inhale deeply, testing the air for any trace of Micah. I still feel the warmth of him, the comfort of his arms around me, but there is no physical evidence that he’s been here.

My head is aching, and my bladder feels as if it’s about to burst. I think to ask Bella if she remembers seeing her father last night, just to confirm that no matter how vivid, how real it felt, it didn’t really happen.

“Brendan, don’t!”

But maybe there’s enough going on in that head of hers. I can’t confuse her; I can’t put ideas into her head.

I close my eyes for just another few seconds to savor the feeling of Micah in my arms; however illusory it was, it warms me, fills voids he left behind.

I swing my legs off the bed and stand on numb legs. A wave of nausea washes over me. I stumble my way to the toilet and kneel at the commode.