Reckoning (26 page)

But I don’t let him finish. I glare at him, my voice growing louder with each word. “Just what the hell are you going to
explain
to me, Rick? That she’s your cousin from Iowa, and you had to,
very unwillingly
, entertain her for a few days? That she’s your neighbor and you were just hanging out? That she’s just a friend who’s very touchy-feely?
Please.
Don’t even go there.” The wave crashes down, carrying with it the detritus of repressed anger, hurt and frustration.

A park landscape worker looks up and watches us for several moments before resuming the unloading of flats of brightly colored geraniums from the back of a truck.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say,” Rick says, his own voice rising in anger. “Look, it’s just…it’s not what you think. Well, maybe it is, but not really.”

What?
It’s not what I think, but maybe it is? What is that supposed to mean? Either it is, or it isn’t.

He sighs. “OK. Let’s just…her name is Autumn.”

Autumn?
Who the hell has a name like Autumn? And are her sisters Spring and Summer? And I suppose her parents are Old Man Winter and Mother Nature.

“I’ve known her for a while. We’ve kind of dated off and on, but never anything serious. She knows it and I know it.”

Kind of dated?
I cross my arms in front of me. “Oh. So then you are
just friends
?” My voice drips with sarcasm.

He shakes his head and looks at the ground. “No. We’re not. But I swear it’s nothing serious. I could never feel about her the way I feel about you, Kat.”

My gut wrenches and I don’t know what makes it hurt more. That fact that he admits to being more than ‘friends’ with her, or that he is having that relationship with someone else. Someone that is not me. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.

Suddenly, I want to hit him. Punch him in the gut as hard as I can, so he can feel even an ounce of the pain I do. “Just tell me one thing. Is it because I wasn’t willing to…you know…be intimate?” I hate the question, and myself for asking, but I need to know the truth.

“
What
?” His eyes widen in shock. “
No
, Kat. No. What kind of person do you think I am?”

“It’s just that there’ve been a couple times when you thought we should, but I said no. I wasn’t ready. So I thought maybe…”

“No, Kat. I would never push you into something you weren’t ready for. And I
swear
I have not been with her since you and I got together. So that’s completely beside the point. You just misread the entire situation.”

I sigh, deflated. Now that I’ve released my anger all the things I’ve just spent the past eight hours thinking about come rushing back.

“Kat, I’m really, really sorry.” He takes another step towards me. “I never meant to hurt you. When I heard about the accident…and then you were in the hospital. God, I’ve never felt so bad about anything. Or been so worried.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault. I did that myself. I should have just gone home, instead of driving around for hours like an idiot.” I toss my hands in the air, letting them drop to my sides. “You know what, Rick? The truth is, I don’t have any claim on you. You’re free to do what you want. With whomever you want.” My gut twists. But it’s the truth. “It’s not like we ever even talked about not dating other people, or went out long enough to be that serious. I was just surprised. That’s all.” It is so much more than that, but I am determined to hang onto whatever shreds of my dignity I have left.

He steps forward again, closing the distance between us. “Kat, you know we’re more than that. Or at least I hope we are. I just kind of thought it went without saying.” He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I want you to know it’s over between her and me. I told her that right after I saw you. She’s not what I want. She never was. And I know you probably won’t believe it, but that’s the reason I was with her that day. So I could tell her that.”

“I’m supposed to believe that when I saw you, you were breaking up with her? Didn’t exactly look that way to me.”

“It’s true. I swear. I called her and told her I wanted to talk about some stuff. I think she knew what it was about because I hadn’t seen or talked to her since you and I started going out. She suggested we go for ice cream and I agreed. And then I was going to tell her. I know it sounds crazy and I can see why you wouldn’t believe me, but I swear it’s the truth, Kat. I should have handled it better. Just told her right away. But it’s not easy telling someone something like that. Even if you haven’t been serious.”

“Then why were you with her? If she’s not what you want?”

He shrugs his shoulders and spreads his hands. “What do you want me to say, Kat? She’s fun. We had a good time. And you and I weren’t together then.”

I hold up my hands. “All right, all right. I don’t need to hear anything more. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Maybe I have no right to be angry. How fair is it to hold someone’s past against them? I think about that night in the park when he’d said he didn’t have a girlfriend. Should I have expected more honesty? How honest are two people supposed to be on a first date? And if he’d told me there was someone he saw casually, what would my reaction have been? Disgust that he was hitting on me when there was already somebody else, even if it wasn’t serious? Disappointment that he was already taken? Acceptance for what it was because my own desires overrode everything else? I have no way of knowing.

And if I’m honest with myself, I haven’t told Rick everything either. Not by a long shot. So does that make me any better than him?

He moves a step closer. “
You’re
what I want, Kat.” He reaches for my hand. “You’re what I’ve wanted for a long time. I’ve never been anything but honest about that. You’re so…amazing. And fun. And beautiful. You’re the only one I want to be with. Please believe that.” His eyes glisten with tears.

“I don’t know what to believe right now, Rick. I think I just need some time.”

He nods. “OK. Take all the time you want. But I’m not going anywhere.” Leaning down, he brushes my bangs aside, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I’ll make it right. I promise.”

More than anything I want to wrap my arms around him and pull him close. To gaze into those deep brown eyes and believe every word. To kiss him and pretend nothing has changed. But I don’t. Things
have
changed. And not just concerning Rick.

I step back, my hand still clasped in his. “I’ll call you later. I have to go.” I turn and jog back home.

My mind races. I feel like I’m having my first clear thoughts in days. I walk up the sidewalk and stop, gazing at Lovell’s house. Images of the accident flash through my mind. Along with everything else that has happened since he moved in. And I’m filled with a myriad of emotions. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Desperation. Fear.

Clenching my jaw in determination, I walk across the grass and slip through the gate. Without knocking, I open the back door. I step through the kitchen and into the dining room. “We need to talk.”

He sits at the dining table, looking at me impassively. Almost as if he’s been expecting me. He sets his coffee mug down and pushes the chair opposite him forward with his foot. He is wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. His bicep contracts as he lifts the mug to his mouth. I quickly bring my eyes back to his face.

“Have a seat,” he says. “You want some coffee? Tea?”

I shake my head. I’m not here for a casual morning visit, chatting over hot beverages.

“So what’s up?”

“Who are you?” I ask the question bluntly, my gaze never leaving his face.

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “What? What do you mean?”

“Who. Are. You.” I say each word slowly, as if he might be having trouble understanding the language.

He laughs, a short, abrupt sound. “You know who I am. Lovell Ambrose. Well, technically, Lovell Arthur Ambrose. But that’s probably beside the point.” Seeing my expression, the smile leaves his face. “What are you getting at, anyway?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Oookaay.” He looks at me as if he is beginning to question my sanity. “What’s up with you this morning, Kat? You feelin’ OK?”

“I feel just fine. And nothing’s up with me. I want answers.”

“Answers to what?”

“To everything. Everything that’s been happening.” I step to the table. “Everything that’s been happening since
you’ve been here
.”

He raises his dark eyebrows, the expression on his face now leaving no doubt that I am a certifiable lunatic. Picking up his cup, he stands and walks to the kitchen sink. I get the impression he is more intent on putting distance between us than rinsing away coffee stains.

“I don’t know what’s up with you, Kat, but I don’t know what to tell you. Are you sure you didn’t sustain any head injuries or anything? Maybe you should go back to the doctor.”

“Stop.” I nearly shout the word, filled with exasperation. “Just
stop
. The lying. The pretense. All of it. I want to know who you are, why you’re here, and why you know so much about me. Why does it seem like you’re always in my head? Why do you ask me questions I feel I should know the answer to, but don’t? How can you anticipate what I’m going to say? Why do I get this weird feeling when I’m around you?”

He takes a step toward me, his eyes burning with blue intensity.

The butterflies begin swarming in my stomach. I move around the table until I am directly in front of him. I tilt my head back, my eyes locking onto his. I place my hand on his chest. My palm tingles. “And
why
were you in the middle of a deserted mountain road four days ago? I slammed right into you. You shouldn’t be alive. And neither should I.”

He gazes back at me wordlessly. I press my hand harder against his chest. “And Rachel’s car shouldn’t even be in one piece. Yet there isn’t even a scratch on it.”

He stares at me in silence, something deep and unfathomable in his eyes. He places his hand over mine, and warmth spreads up my arm. I can feel the hard muscles in his chest, his slow and even breaths. Images I can’t identify flash through my mind. Then he steps away. And an unexplainable feeling of loneliness creeps over me. Which just intensifies my anger and frustration.

“
Who are you
?” I yell.

He sighs, and turns to look out the window, his head slightly cocked as if he is listening. But I hear nothing beyond the sound of my own breath, sailing angrily in and out of my nose, and the faint tick of the wall clock in the kitchen.

He turns back to me. “Katriona.” My name. One word. Nothing extraordinary. I’ve heard it a thousand times before. But never the way he says it. It holds a hundred different meanings and emotions. And the faint trace of an accent I’ve never heard before. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“What does that mean?” My voice is so soft I can barely hear it.

“There are things you need to know, Kat.”

“What things? What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re the way you are? Why you see and hear the things you do? The spirits. That girl in the pink dress. The weird sensations you get.”

I gasp, staring at him in shock. How can he know about that?
No one
knows.

“There’s a reason for it. I was hoping you’d figure it out. I’ve been trying to
help
you figure it out, to ease you into it. That’s why I’m here.”

“Figure
what
out?”

He sighs. “You’ve suppressed it too long, Kat. Denying you’re power and abilities. Refusing to embrace who you are.”

I’m beginning to lose patience. He is talking nonsense. “I have absolutely
no
idea what you’re talking about.” I try to move past him into the kitchen, but he stops me, pulling me closer to him.

“Look at me.”

His voice is quiet and commanding, and I find it enormously irritating, but impossible to resist. Reluctantly, I lift my eyes to his. I feel a dull throbbing in my head and my eyelids grow heavy. I close my eyes.

Then the pictures start. Fragmented images and visions, careening through my head, the same ones that had been flashing furiously before, now slowing and coalescing into distinct shapes and forms. Pictures of places that seem familiar, yet foreign. Events, both pleasant and terrifying, playing out in flickering, jerky movement, like an old newsreel. I see a woman, with hair the color of mine, running, her dark cloak billowing behind her. I see her laughing, holding up a small child. I see a strange, foreign street, crowded with people, their voices raised in anger. I see a woman weeping, shivering under a threadbare blanket. I see a dark form rising out of the shadows, a woman kneeling between a circle of stones. A white mist swirls around her. I see myself as a young girl, playing in the sandbox at the park. I see the ghostly image of a woman in white by the trees. I see a man in the trees, his hair glinting in the sun. I see intense blue eyes staring back at me…

My eyes fly open. Wrenching myself away from him, I step back, looking at him in shock. “Oh, my God,” I whisper. “What did you just do? What was that?” I feel sick and confused, my head pounding like it had after the accident. “I don’t understand.”

“I know. But you will.”

“
Who are you?
” My voice cracks, and tears begin sliding down my cheeks. “Don’t lie to me anymore. I can’t take it. Please. I just want the truth.”

He looks at me calmly for a moment. “I’m a Watcher.”

“A
watcher
? What the hell does that mean?”

“Watchers are Rulers of the Elemental Kingdoms. But essentially, it means I was sent here to protect you and to teach you. You have a destiny, Kat.”

I look at him uncomprehendingly.

“There’s a lot you need to know. So I guess I’ll just go back to the beginning. It started in Scotland, in1760, with your six-times great-grandmother, Ailis. She was a very powerful woman. I suppose you could say she was a witch, although not in the modern sense of the word. She could heal animals and people simply by placing her hands on them. Plants would thrive under her care. She had the ability to see coming events and, like you, could communicate with spirits. She was beautiful and intelligent, had the love and respect of the other villagers, and a good marriage to a man she loved. But the one thing she wanted, more than anything, was a child. But she was unable to conceive. So she called upon a very powerful force to help her. An Elemental Ruler by the name of Aratus. With his help, she succeeded. The child wasn’t his,” he adds, seeing my expression. “It was conceived with her husband, via the usual method.