Broken Dreams (7 page)

“You think? I’m staying right here with Claire, thank you very much. I can listen from here.” My sadness turned to pissyness and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Henry?” I snapped.

With part of my dress, I wiped the last tear that trickled down my face. Claire grabbed my hand and we scooted closer together. She put her head on my shoulder and continued to cry.

“Maybe this should wait until we can both sit down at our place.”
Our
place? Who was he trying to convince here? Surely not me. He turned onto the street
his
apartment was on, not
our
apartment.

“You must be mental, thinking I’m going to go into
your
apartment with you. I don’t even know who you are anymore! And you made me leave my family behind in all the psychotic bullshit at the church!” I crossed my arms and turned toward the window. My maturity level hit high on the epic scale.

“Elaina, I need to explain to you what is going on. Just give me a few minutes, and if you don’t like what you hear, then you can leave. I’m not imprisoning you.” His statement seemed a bit calculated. I looked out the limo window, ignoring him, and trying to piece together what I had just seen.

There was a car crumpled around a light pole. The driver was hanging out of the window with his throat torn out, and some psycho lady was snacking on his arm like it was a turkey leg. My stomach was protesting again. I had a feeling that I would be safer with Henry, rather than out there in the wide open asking for Mental Susie to eat me for dessert.

“Am I having a nightmare? Please, Claire, pinch me. Tell me this isn’t real.” She reached up and slapped me across my face. “Ouch! Damn it! I said pinch me, not slap me, you bitch! I guess I am awake,” I said, while rubbing the newly-minted handprint on my face.

“This is not a dream, Elaina, but it is a nightmare of mega proportion,” Henry said so calmly and matter-of-fact, like it wasn’t a big deal. I looked back at him, confused, and he pulled the car up in front of his apartment building.

He hopped out and ran to the door where Claire and I were sitting. He held out his hand to help me out. When I didn’t make a move, he squatted down. “Elaina, love…”

“Love? Love!? Really!?”

“Elaina, I am begging you. Please…come inside so we can talk about this. It’s far too dangerous for you two to be out here on your own.”

“Talk about this? Are you fucking kidding me right now?! You left our families and friends stranded with what looked like crazed, people-eating monsters!” I looked toward Claire. She had her arm hooked through mine, and we were squeezing each other’s hands.

“Claire, talk some sense into her. This is important. We need to get off the street and to safety now!” Henry spoke with urgency.

“I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.” Then Claire turned to me, her eyes welling up with tears. “But, Elaina, Marc’s gone and I’m really scared out here. For me…please.” I looked back at Henry, wondering who he truly was.

I sighed. “I am doing this for Claire, not for you!” I pushed away his hand and scooted out of the car barefoot. Then, of course, I tore my dress even more on the door latch. I couldn’t have cared less.

***

Henry unlocked his third floor apartment. I had only been there twice to pick him up for dates on those rare occasions that he wasn’t walking around my apartment in his birthday suit. It was during the evening both times, and he met me at the door so I didn’t see much of anything.

“Come in. Please, have a seat on the sofa. I’m going to go change out of these clothes and wash up a bit.”

With nervous energy, I looked around. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everything in there was contemporary. There was not a speck of dust anywhere, everything was in light colors, and there was not a book out of place. All clean lines, except for the trunk under the front window. It was exceptionally old and looked out of place, like a flea market or tag sale find.
Maybe a family heirloom,
I thought.

Much different than my style, which was the shabby chic, lived-in look. Plus, I wasn’t exactly a neat freak and, by looking around, I could see that Henry definitely was. I realized why he was always cleaning up behind me. I would be drinking the last sip of coffee out of my mug, and he would be grabbing it to load into the dishwasher.

I looked over at Claire, who was hugging herself, and I shrugged my shoulders. We’ve had the discussion before about Henry’s apartment. It was always in the back of my mind, and I wondered if he was going to keep his bachelor pad after we married.

We wanted to look for a house when we came home from the honeymoon. I wasn’t sure where home would be until we bought a house of our own. We talked about it for months and looked at several houses. The prices made me choke. Henry kept urging me to make a decision and not to worry about the financial aspect. He said it wasn’t an issue. Just choose what I liked and he would make it happen.

“Claire, I am so sorry about Marc.” I reached over and held her. She began sobbing again. Her make-up was making its way all over my dress.

“I’m sorry. I’m ruining your dress.” She wiped her nose with the hanky that had once occupied my sweaty bra. I looked down at the black mascara all over my dress.

“Oh, well. I wasn’t a fan of it to begin with. Not to mention the giant rip up the side.” I pulled it around so she could see the Tiffany blue garter midway up my thigh.

It reminded me of my mom. Kind of an odd statement, but she bought it for me after she conceded to the color of my choice. I loved Tiffany’s and owned more than one person who was jobless should. I looked down at my engagement ring and twisted it around my finger. I started to get choked up.

My mom drove me batshit crazy most days but, at the end of the day, she was my mom and I loved her. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was a victim along with my father, my brother…the list goes on and on of all the people Henry made me abandon. There were over two hundred people at our wedding that didn’t happen.

I could hear Henry talking on the phone in his bedroom. He sounded furious and different…he was talking with an accent! I was curious and needed to investigate.

“Be right back. I’m going to see if I can find a tissue or something.” Claire nodded while she sobbed. I got up as quiet as I could in my fraying, make-up stained dress, and headed toward his room.

I was shocked. I had never heard Henry shout like he was before that day. He was generally so mellow and in control. And, for some reason, he was speaking with a British accent.

***

“I can’t fucking believe this!” Henry yelled into the phone. Kellan chuckled. Henry yanked off his tuxedo jacket and loosened the tie.

“You knew perfectly well that it was going to happen.”

“Fuck you. Now I have to figure out how to explain all of this to her! She lost a bunch of her family today, but that doesn’t faze you head-fucks, does it?” Kellan continued to laugh at Henry’s anguish.

“Meh…just collateral damage.” The nonchalant tone in Kellan’s voice infuriated him.

“God, you have no heart. You are a bunch of sick fucks.”

“And there is that bleeding heart Roger spoke about.”

The tie came off, quickly followed by the vest. “Innocent people are dying just so others will stroke your egos! That doesn’t bother you?!”

“Why would it? I always like a good stroking, ego or otherwise.” Kellan was having too much fun.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Children will die…
have
died! Jesus Christ,” Henry mumbled as he unbuttoned the top three buttons on his shirt.

“Survival of the fittest, yeah?”

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Henry paced the floor of his bedroom, practically wearing a path in the dense, plush carpet.

“Did you think you would have the upper hand by holding the injection hostage? Well, guess what? You failed. Miserably, I might add. Did you not think that someone, let alone Gunther, could possibly break into your flat? Now that was really stupid. Who taught you those lock picking skills that you excel so well at? It wasn’t dear old mummy.” Kellan knew that referring to Henry’s mother would send him over the edge.

“Shut up,” he growled.

“Oh, what’s the matter? Miss your mummy, do you?”

“You shut the fuck up about her right now!”

“Or what?” Kellan’s laughing was driving Henry to near insanity. He was yanking on his hair, seething in anger. He was trying to calm himself down so he wouldn’t completely snap in front of Elaina. If she saw him so unhinged, it would frighten her even more than she already was.

“You could have at least informed me when… I could have taken proper precautions.” He took the cufflinks out of his cuffs and yanked the shirt out of his pants.

“Now, Liam, you knew it was bound to happen when you saw it was gone. And, besides, the element of surprise is always fun, yeah?”

“Goddamn it!” Henry raged. He kicked the ottoman that was in front of his chair. Thankfully, he still had his wing tips on or he might have broken a toe or two.

“Just because we love you oh so much, we are sending Sophie over. She’s on a plane right now as we chat like old mates. Xander has already set her up with a truck and weapons.”

“Jesus Christ,” Henry said again as he scrubbed his five o’clock stubble.

“Not quite, although I do appreciate you referring to me in that way. Anyway, she is going to bring you back here, and we are going to have a few discussions with a few of your old mates: Mr. Taser and Mr. Brass Knuckles. You remember them, don’t you, Liam?” Kellan chuckled at his joke. “If anyone can bring you back, it’s her. You know how hard it is to resist her. Bloody hell, she was fucking brilliant.” Kellan’s evil laugh made Henry’s skin crawl.

“You leave her the fuck alone!” Henry barked out in anger. “I told you I would kill you if you got near her.”

“Too late. Sounds like you still love her. How can you love two women at once? I’ve
fucked
two women at once, but love? Nah, that’s for bleeders like yourself.”

“If I ever see you again, consider it done, asshole!” Henry was full of rage, knowing that Kellan took advantage of Sophie and he wasn’t there to stop it from happening. He knew he would have to protect her and keep her with him once she arrived. There was no way in hell he was going to let her leave his side. “She is not bringing me back. You knew that I was done with this bullshit ages ago.”

“Well, guess fucking what? You
are
to come back here, or I will personally come hunt your cock-up arse down and punish you for not following orders. I hope I get to come hunt you down because I want to beat the fuck out of you in front of that woman of yours.”

“Good luck, motherfucker.” Kellan burst out laughing this time, which only made Henry angrier.

“Oh, Liam, you were always a character.” Then Kellan’s voice grew venomous. “You know you cannot take me on.”

“Fuck off.” Henry hung up and slammed the phone down on his dresser. He needed to finish changing and get back to Elaina so he could try to work it all out.

***

Henry…if that was his name because I was really questioning that at this point…stopped yelling. I heard him mumbling and I figured he was changing. He growled to himself and swung open the door. He had his handgun at the ready. And, of course, being the newly-minted sissy girl that I was, I screamed.

“Damn it, Elaina!” he yelled in his American accent. He jammed his gun in the back of his jeans and grabbed my shoulders. “What are you doing? I told you to sit and wait for me.”

In a moment, I made up an excuse. I do admit that I was a professional excuse maker. I always had an excuse for my parents about why I got fired from job after job. It was never anything I did, of course. I was always an innocent bystander.

“I...I was looking for the bathroom to get a washcloth for Claire.” Then I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. “But wasn’t sure where it was, seeing as I haven’t actually been in
your
apartment in the two years that we have been together.”

“Stop. Just stop, please. I don’t need this right now.” He held up his hands, walked past me, and turned on the light to the bathroom, which happened to be the second door down on the left from his bedroom. He started the faucet and shoved a dripping wet cloth at me.

“Gee, thanks -- Henry. If that is even your name.” He grumbled and turned on a dime, heading toward the living room. I wrung out the cloth and headed off behind him.

“Claire, I got this for you. Here, let me help you clean up some.” Look at me being all mother hen-like. She needed to clean up because she really couldn’t pull off the Goth look very well.

“Thanks,” she said, as I started wiping away her makeup. Henry sat on the coffee table, staring at us.

“Okay, so...” He was rubbing his lips with his fingers. “I’m looking for the right words.”

“Just spew it, would you already? We need to hurry so we can go back and get our family and friends.” My patience had worn thinner than the see-through cute piece I bought for what was supposed to be our wedding night.

“I will just start from the beginning.”

“The beginning? How about you drop the fake accent.”

Henry stared at me in stunned silence. “Bloody hell. I knew you heard me.” I think he meant to say that to himself, but he said it out loud. “Okay. I’m not American.” And there it was! He said it in the same accent as when he was all angry-shouty on the phone.

“Yeah, I think I figured that one out myself. Just call me Sherlock-
Fucking
-Holmes.” Claire’s jaw had hit the floor.

“Please, Elaina, let me explain.” A heavy sigh exited his body. “I just want to start by saying how much I love you. And that is real. That’s not fake, in any way, no matter what you think.” I rolled my eyes as he took another deep breath. “My name is Liam Henry Daniels so I didn’t lie about that. If you want, I can show you proper paperwork to support that.” I laughed so hard that I snorted. Claire still sat there, jaw to the floor.

“Now…Liam, is it?”

“Henry. Please, just call me Henry. I don’t go by Liam.”