Into the Flames (Perilous Connections: Book Two) (11 page)

Trapped he can’
t quite hide his irritation
, whether at his own callousness or Stacy’s pain I can’t be sure, but I
would bet it’s neither.

He is staring at me again but I refuse to answer his silent challenge to look at him. “I married D
aphne because I wanted to stay in t
he Caribbean, out of sight from
Emmanuel
.”

Stacy’s brows draw together.
“You never
explained why Pablo-
”

“Stacy!” the curtness in his voice causes both Stacy and I to jump,
he shoots Stacy a quelling look,
“like I’d explained that was none of your concern. You should have return
ed
to Michigan like you said
.”

Stacy sticks out kissable
lips.
“My vacation wasn’t over yet.”

He raises a merciless eyebrow, “Yeah. Well it certainly is now.”

Stacy subsides like a spoiled child.

After staring at me with an intense look on his face,
which
I deliberately
ignore,
I
return
my eyes
to the
green
hilly
scenery flashing by outside
the ta
xi window
. H
e
sighs, then gives up and r
e
turns
to the
front of
the bus
.

If only Stacy would follow along.
Why hadn’t she
chosen a different seat?
Preferably
one closer to
her knight-in-
tarnished
armor?

I give up trying to be comfortable and fi
x my thoughts on the road ahead but I can’t because
e
very winding turn o
f the bus
up the hill causes
Stacy’s thighs to brush against mine
.

I steal another
glance at her legs
and I grind my teeth as
bit
ter, galling jealousy festers inside me.

Her legs are like twins, perfectly mat
ched, slender, firm and
blemish less
.
T
he
type of skin that you had to be bo
rn with because you
could never
get it from a bottle.

And so runs the
rest of her body. Sh
e is like a gazelle, elegant, beauti
fully proportioned.
Willowy
, mahogany waves and green eyes
complete
an already perfect picture.
She appears totally unaware of my perusal. She closes her eyes and
her long lashe
s drift down against her cheeks,
highlighting the tiny lines of fatigue around the corners of her eyes
.
No doubt courtesy of being pursued by Emmanuel.

I sag in defeat.
Seeing her clasped
protectively
in
Nate
’s arms
on the pier had
been too much to
take
and I had made my escape as soon as I had regained the use of my faculties.

I did not need to
stretch my imagination to know that they were related in the biblical sense.

I WILL NOT CRY!

But the sting does not go away. He
still cares for her. That was
clear in the way he
had
held her, nuzz
led the top
of her head like a beloved pet!

And she …
loves him. The softness of her body as she’d pressed
into him was enough
proof of that
.

I focus intensely on the dark green of the trees
which hug the roadside
, the velv
ety looking grass
swaying
at their feet. The distant
murmur of
running wat
er teases my senses. Montserrat
is lushly forested
and water
ed
, typical of the vol
canic regions in the Caribbean.

The
recent spate of eruptions
has virtually emptied this side of the island which sits within a hairsbreadth of the danger
zone whose entry is forbidden
.
I wrap my arm
s tightly around myself.
T
hough we cannot see
the mountain from this hill I c
atch hints of the ash infused air, and it
reeks
of rot
ted roots
.

I try to focu
s on something less disgusting
.
On the opposite side
of the
bus
Aubrey i
s asleep again, cuddled into Elaine’s arms. I
swallow the lump in my throat as I watch her hand glide soothin
gly over his close cropped hair, dow
n the side of his flushed cheek and back up again.

I have rarely seen Elaine touch Aubrey like a mother
. Aubrey
adores
her but has
learned to keep his love in check
at her unpredictable coldness. N
ow overnight she is
clasping h
im to her bosom
, shielding him from harm.

All of which is Nate’s fault, I muse bitterly.
And my
own
stupidity
and greed
.
I should never have helped
him
. N
o matter how much money he’d offered me. I watch a dosing Stacy from beneath
my lashes. E
ven Stacy, someone he has known before me and who obviously has such tender feelings for him has suffered because of him,
with the
ugly br
uises on her
otherwise
flawless face
to prove it
.

Still I cannot
quite make myself sympathize with her. She had had a chance to escape th
is perilous connection and
she’d chosen not to.

I return my gaze to the vehicle’s window.

As we swing around the hill, the sun is sparkling on the sea,
and I recognize belatedly that this is
my most favorite time of day
.
The heat is going
from the sun, the sea is
at its
calm
est
with not even
a ruffle for a wave and the trees
are
sway
ing to
music that only they can
hear.

We make a particularly sharp turn and Stacy’s leg brush
es mine for the umpteenth time. S
he awakens,
my lips tighten but seeing he
r tentative smile I try to swallow down my unwarranted hostility
.

None of this is her f
ault. S
he’d obvious
ly suffered because of Nate. I
hate to contemplate the fear
she must have gone through, the ruthless feel of Emmanuel’s hands on her, colliding with her soft flesh.

On our way into town
from the pier
this morning,
she’
d opened
up to Nate about what she’d gone
through.

I
had
listened as she’d detailed some of the horrors Emmanuel had put her through when he’d found
her hanging out with
some friends she
’d met at another local resort.

I become terrified all over again a
s
I recall how clo
se I had come to Stacy’s fate.

We hit a bump in the paved road as we turn
off
into a grassy driveway at the side of the
hill we’ve
been climbing for thirty
plus
minutes. We go on for
a few more minutes and then pull to a halt. My
mouth gapes in astonishment at the piece of homely perfection that sits in front of us.

Wooden shingles aged almost black make up
the entirety of the single stor
y home. A
porch runs the entire front of t
he house and it
sports
a single broad hammock
that
dangles negligentl
y in the breeze.

My guess is that
the porch goes
all the way to the back.
I see the same thought in Aubrey’s face and we smile at each
oth
er and grinning
we
race
to the back to see if we’re correct.

The porch does go aro
und the entire house and I come to a stop and
gaze o
ut in wonder at the view beyond. T
he
jewel
colored sea
winks back at me,
now showing
streaks
of gold
and blue. I take a few steps closer to the edge of the cliff on which the house sits.

“D
aphne, be careful,”
Aubrey’s shout brings me up
short. I blink and turn around to fi
nd him right behind me, his hand
fisted in the tail of my t-shirt
,
tugging me back.

I grin and
playful
l
y ch
uck his head. “Don’t worry
.
I have no intention to
go flying anytime soon.” I peer
down and
directly in front of me
the ground
descend
s viciously
into a deep ravine
held together by
tall, thick, emerald colored trees
.

Off to the other side
I
hear
rushing water and there is a steep pathway
which winds its
way
through thigh high grass
that is rustling
in the breeze, their musky sweet odor scenting the air. I
close my eyes and inhale one of the long forgotten scents of my childhood.
Sweet grass and the scent of rich earth.

Nate had specifically requested this property from among the half dozen the landlord Elaine’
s uncle had introduced us to
.

I shift and anot
her surge of air hits me.
I savor the a
roma of sea salt and the bitter
sweet frag
rance of trees and flowers. It takes me a few moments to shake myself awake from the beckonin
g peace which this wilderness harbors
.

I reach for
Aubrey’s
hand, which feels
so small and
defense
less in mine that it forces me
to look
at his grea
t brown eyes and innocent smile.
I return it with an effort that costs me a great deal. I am failing my father, the promise I made to him to take care of his youngest child.

My failure rings like a litany in my head over and over again,
but its effect is
nowhere near as jarring as the images of Nate and me in my bedroom,
or
in the bathroom on the ferry. I swallow down the gurgle of distress that wrestles to free itself from my lips.

Every
moment that I am with Nate I’m
breaking my word to my father but
I don’
t know what to do because as much as I hate to admit it, a part of me knows that Nate’s telling the truth to some degree. We are in danger and tho
ugh it’s because of him that does
not nullify the threat
of Emmanuel
one bit.

Holding
tightly to Aubrey’s hand,
we
go back
to
front of the house.

Ela
i
ne is standing on the porch, our backpack
s
at her feet, she watches us approach.
“N
ate and Stacy have gone back in
t
o town to get some groceries and other stuff.
”

The news blindsides me.
We stare at each oth
er and I see a trace of triumph
in
he
r eyes before pity takes over.
Elaine
cocks her head.
“I thin
k it’ll work out
, you know.”