Broken Pasts(32)

“You were too busy wooing me? I know, but it doesn't matter. Let's just get the f*ck out of here before he shows up.” He nodded and reached down for his coat, tossing it over my shoulders as I dug out some clothes, stuffed them in a duffel bag and slipped a pair of flats on my feet.

I followed Nathaniel into the hallway, watching as he flicked the lights on as we went, moving with our backs to the wall and our hearts pounding in our throats. At least, mine was. Nathaniel looked like a freaking God with his muscular chest bare, his pistol clenched between his sure fingers, so maybe his heart was still, waiting, listening for any sound that might alert him to Gary's presence.

“Stay behind me,” Nathaniel instructed as we moved around the corner and into the dining room. The house was peaceful and each light illuminated another bit of darkness, another shadowy corner proving that wherever Gary was, he wasn't here.

Still, I didn't breathe until we were outside, until Nathaniel had checked the car and told me it was safe to climb in.

“Where are we going now?” I asked him as I adjusted the heating vents so that they pointed straight at me. January nights could be unbearably cold, even more so when your heart was iced over with fear. Nathaniel smiled over at me, but the expression was tight. He was tense, that much was obvious, and I didn't blame him, but it did scare the shit out of me.

“To my place,” he said, and despite the potential severity of the situation, I got goose bumps. It had been awhile since a guy had taken me to his place. There was just something so attractive about that, so personal. I kept my smile to myself and tried to use the quiet drive to break my thoughts up, make them a bit more manageable. Nathaniel had killed a man. Okay. I could get used to that. Or maybe I didn't need to. Maybe it didn't bother me as much as it should, but knowing what had happened to his wife, knowing how painful it was to go through something like this, I couldn't blame him. If I'd been in his position, I'd have probably done the same thing.

I unhooked my seat belt and scooted over to the center seat, so I could put my hand on Nathaniel's thigh. As I looked up at his strong face, lit by the lights from the odometer, I wondered if the guilt ever ate away at him, if it made things harder, or if he even felt any at all.

Too bad I was about to find out the hard way.

***

Nathaniel drove us down a series of side streets that I'd never been on, winding us through suburban neighborhoods and down small side streets, all the while keeping his gaze locked on the rearview mirror.

“Are we being followed?” I asked him, and at first he didn't answer. After awhile though, he shook his head and gave me a guilty smile.

“No, but I wanted to be sure, just in case,” he told me as he steered us back towards the highway and took the first exit off towards a neighborhood I had never been in before called Shrouded Hills. There was a long, narrow road that led straight up a hill. All along it were beautiful houses, built into unusual shapes to accommodate the slope. There was some impressive architecture up there, and I could only imagine how beautiful it would be in the daylight, when all of the little details were visible. “Maybe we could take a walk in the morning?” he asked me with a wicked smile. “That is, if we can bother to drag ourselves out of bed.”

“You're back to flirting already?” I asked my bare chested bodyguard. “That didn't take long. I guess we're safe up here then?” Nathaniel shook his head.

“You're not safe until Gary is behind bars,” he said, letting his sentence stretch out with this imaginary or … or until he's dead. I didn't respond, waiting tensely as we pulled into Nathaniel's driveway.

The house at the end of it made me sorry for ever wanting the one across the street from my rental. It was massive, too big for one person, and towered over us with brown siding, cheerful, frosted porch lamps, and a surprise package on the doorstep. Nathaniel didn't see it until it was too late, not because he wasn't looking but because he didn't have time to look. No sooner had he opened his door and come around for mine, than I heard the shot.

With my pistol in hand, Gary shot Nathaniel Sutherland in the chest.

Blood bloomed out from Nathaniel's wound as he stumbled back and hit the hood of the car at the same moment a scream burst from my mouth, filled the night air and shattered the perfect gentle silence of suburbia. Gary didn't stop, didn't even slow down. He just kept walking towards me with his brown hair slicked back and his eyes glossy. He didn't speak, not one single word, but I heard a whole chorus of demons howling in my head when I met his gaze, when I caught my first glimpse at what a broken man really looks like. Is this what Nathaniel saw when he found Tom with Gillian? Is this how he felt inside? There was a helpless rage deep within me, bubbling up from the darkest depths, born from the best of intentions.

I crouched down, scooted forward, hoping with every beat of my heart that I'd have enough time to reach Nathaniel, to take the gun from his fingers and defend myself. I didn't know if he was dead, but he wasn't moving and there was blood everywhere, so much blood. I had to crawl through it to get to him, kneel in it while I pulled the pistol from Nathaniel's fingers, sit in it while I looked up at the man who used to be known as Gary Harper.

“Stop,” I told him, as I swallowed my fears and my uncertainties and went to this calm, quiet place that only those on their last breath can find within themselves. Trust me, it isn't a place you want to visit. “Don't move, Gary,” I told him as I watched his face, his arms, his hands. If he tensed, I would pull the trigger, I would shoot him and I wouldn't care if he lived or died.

“Why?” he asked as he lowered the barrel from my head to my heart. “So you can f*ck with me again? I don't think so, Theresa. You broke my heart, so I'm going to break yours. It's only fair.”

Gary moved; I moved.

Time ceased to exist and everything stilled.

I closed my eyes, pulled the trigger and felt an impact. At first I thought I'd been shot, but when a thump sounded before me, I opened my eyes and found that it was just the recoil from the pistol.

Gary Harper was dead. I had hit him right between the eyes, killed him instantly, which was a more merciful, painless death than Nathaniel was going to get. I didn't waste time crying over my ex-husband, contemplating the intricacies that separated self-defense from murder, wondering about the fine line between life and death. All I heard was Nathaniel's wet breathing, so I dropped the gun, and moved over so that I could put my hands on either side of his face.

“Nathaniel?” I whispered, knowing that I should call 911, but unable to leave his side. Someone in the neighborhood would call it in. They'd have heard the gunshots, and I just couldn't bring myself to leave Nathaniel's side in case he didn't make it. If he slipped away from me while I was on the phone, I would never forgive myself. His head moved, turned to face me, found my lips with his bloody ones and kissed me. All the while he kept his eyes closed and his hand over the wound on his chest.

“Theresa,” he whispered to me as tears rolled down my cheeks and landed on his chest, his perfect, beautiful, bloody chest. “Can I tell you another secret?”

“Yes,” I whispered back, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. Nathaniel's face was pale, too pale, and he was shaking violently, like he was cold. I brushed my hands down his face and ran my fingers through his hair while I waited for what could very well be his last words.

“Don't make fun of me, but I … ” He paused to catch his breath. “I believe in love at first sight.”

“Do you now?” I asked with the world's fakest laugh.

“I do,” he whispered as he leaned forward just enough so that he could whisper in my ear. “I fell in love with you the first moment I laid eyes on you.” In the distance, I could hear the sound of sirens, but Nathaniel couldn't. His chest was still moving, but his head was drooping to the side, and his eyelids were fluttering like runaway butterflies. I folded myself against his side and waited for the ambulance, knowing that if he died, my last chance at happiness would die along with him.





EPILOGUE

“Are you coming?” Jamie asked as she stood outside my bedroom door. She had on a thick, red coat with black fur around the hood and on the edges of the sleeves. It looked good on her, not so good on me.

“Do we have to wear matching coats? Aren't we a little old for that?” I asked as I compared her made-up face to my own. I'd chosen to go au naturel. It'd been five years since he'd died, but I wasn't beyond getting a little teary. I mean, I was lucky that I wasn't traumatized beyond belief.

“Speak for yourself,” she said as she turned on her heel and started out the bedroom door and into the hallway. Immediately, shouts began to emanate from the living room, something about how grape soda doesn't go well with white sofas. I didn't want to know. I looked at myself in the mirror, locked gazes with the Theresa McMaster from five years ago and tried to see if I had changed. I had. There was no doubt about it, and in my opinion, it was for the better. I was stronger now, more sure of who I was and who I wanted to become. I was growing and changing everyday, finding new reasons to smile, leaving behind regrets and indecision.