Angel's Dance (14 page)

“
This is different,” Grant
sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“
Why? Cause she is smoking
hot? Never figured you for the type… but then I guess your wife
did.”

Before Grant could stop himself he was
across the room and had Bryce pinned to the wall with his arm tight
across the other detective’s throat. “We used to be partners and
you knew that part of my life, but you know nothing about my
divorce. You do not have the right to say one word on it. Ever.
Clear?” He had to physically force himself to let the man go. He
straightened Bryce’s lapels still fighting the urge not to strangle
him. “Don’t. Push. Me.” he ordered as he walked away, putting
distance between them once again.

Clear opened the back door, eyes wide
and nodded cautiously to Grant. She ushered Mrs. Johnson back into
the house, her hand resting on the woman’s shoulder. “I think we
have everything we need now, Mrs. Johnson. If you will send those
other journals in to Detective Bryce, I would appreciate that. I
assure you, I will keep you posted as soon as we know anything more
concrete. Grant?” She nodded to the front door.

Grant nodded to Mrs. Johnson. “Thank
you ma’am.” He followed Clear out standing by the front car door
waiting for Bryce to wrap it up. He knew he shouldn’t have gone
after the man. Bryce didn’t have to let them in at all. Besides,
Grant was pretty sure he had somehow given Bryce satisfaction with
that stunt, not scared the bejeezus out of the man. Too bad Bryce
didn’t realize how badly it had scared Grant. He was losing
control.

Clear bit her tongue standing at the
car as she felt the waves of rage pour off of Grant. She knew
talking to him now would do no good and would probably only feed
the fire. Whatever was going on between these two was going to
consume her if she wasn’t careful. This was the type of crap that
made her hate cities!

“
For someone who is not so
good with people, you handled her pretty well.” Grant nodded toward
Mrs. Johnson who was standing on the porch as Bryce walked down the
walkway.

Clear shrugged. “I am very good with
some people. Just not a lot of people all at once,” she muttered.
As Bryce got closer she could feel the pressure in her head spike.
“Grant,” she whispered.

He turned at the pain in her voice and
immediately his rage melted away to concern. “Are you ok?” He
stepped closer to her as if getting ready to catch her should she
collapse.

“
Another migraine.” She
looked at him apologetically.

“
We need to get to our
hotel room,” Grant snapped to Bryce and climbed in back with Clear.
She could feel Bryce looking at her with concern as he jumped in
the front.

“
What’s wrong?” he asked,
even as he quickly started the car and pulled out. Clear hoped the
hotel wasn’t far away.

“
She has bad migraines,”
Grant murmured, rubbing Clear’s back between her shoulders. She
leaned into the movement and he put pressure on the back of her
neck immediately the pain withdrew and she could breathe again. She
knew it was only temporary and if he took the pressure away the
migraine would explode in force. She fumbled around in her bag for
her medication and swallowed it dry-mouth.

“
It’ll be ok,” Grant
murmured gently as he carefully rubbed the back of her neck. She
squeezed her eyes shut against the auras and focused on her
breathing. After only a few minutes she felt the car stop and Grant
moved.

“
Here, the reservation is
in my name. A suite. Hurry, please.” The concern in his voice made
Clear’s eyes water. She could not remember being so cared for. Not
since before her parents had died. Despite the pain and agony in
her brain, she felt more at peace because of it. A moment later the
door was opening and Grant was urging her carefully out the door.
The bright light of the fluorescent overhead lights almost ruined
her, but Grant deftly guided her to the room unlocking the door for
her. As soon as she was in she ran to the bathroom, kicking the
door closed and hoping the walls were thick. She blindly stumbled
to the toilet barely getting the lid up and falling to her knees in
time. As she purged, the violent waves ripped through her brain
making the nausea even more intense, creating a vicious cycle.
After what felt like forever, her body began to settle and she
clung to the seat with trembling arms. The acid burned her throat,
but she was too weak to even sit back, let alone get to the sink.
She fumbled for the handle to flush and then waited to
recover.

A moment later the door opened. She
was mortified, but the light stayed off. Something cool touched her
hand and she took it carefully. A bottle of water. Before she could
even thank him, Grant was gone. She removed the lid and with the
first swig rinsed her mouth, spitting into the toilet, then flushed
again and leaned back finding the edge of the tub. Sliding down
until the cool ceramic rested against the base of her neck, she
focused on breathing deeply as the sweat coating her body cooled
and left her feeling clammy.

Cautiously she rose, waiting for the
pounding behind her eyes. It did not come. She moved slowly and
carefully to the door and opened it. The little extra light from
the window did not stab her eyeballs and she took that as a good
sign. She looked around, but there was no sign of Grant. He must
have left after getting her the bottle of water, to give her
privacy.

She moved slowly to the bed and
crawled in, pulling the blankets carefully around her. Her arms and
legs felt like jelly and her neck was stiff and sore. She
consciously unlocked her jaws forcing herself to breathe through
her mouth and release the pressure on her jaw. Although she was
pretty sure the migraine had pased, she was too weak and exhausted
from the experience to move. The air whooshing through her lungs
was soothing and at the same time the only labor she could
accomplish. Her eyelids grew heavy and began steadily closing to
the rhythm of her heartbeat. After a few beats they were too heavy
to lift. Then it became too hard to focus on listening to her
heartbeat. Before she knew it she had slipped into blissful
rest.

Chapter Nine

As Clear opened her eyes,
there was a momentary sense of loss and confusion. She did not know
where she was. The room was not familiar at all. As the cobwebs
were swept away, relief flooded her. Of course she did not remember
this room; she had barely seen it because of the migraine.
‘Another one. Crap!!’

She sat up quickly, looking for Grant,
but there was no sign of him. Her neck muscles screamed from the
tension and she slowly rolled her head, stretching the tender
muscles and tendons. She reached over and flipped on the bedside
light, looking for a clock. Based on the little bit of light
outside, she was guessing it was either early morning or late
evening. She slipped out of bed and realized that she was still
dressed. Her clothes were a rumpled mess and she could only imagine
what the rest of her looked like. Looking around the room, she was
hoping that Grant had slipped her suit case in. No sign of it. The
sour grimy taste in her mouth would not quit, so she slowly
ventured a peek through the door. The rest of the hotel room was
empty, as far as she could tell. The TV was off and the one side
table light only cast shadows through the room.

“
Hello?” She called
timidly. She could not imagine that Grant would have just abandoned
her here all alone with nothing. She flipped a switch nearby and
sighed with relief when she realized her bags were by the front
door. Snatching them up, she hauled both bags into the bedroom and
pulled out her toothbrush and toothpaste.

It was amazing how the simple act of
brushing your teeth could make you feel so much cleaner, despite
the wrinkled clothes and old sweat. Turning on the TV, Clear
realized it was 6:30 p.m. That meant she had been out for… three or
four hours? She decided Grant must be getting something to eat and
at the thought her stomach grumbled loudly. As desperately as she
wanted a shower, it would be awkward if Grant and Bryce came back
together, so Clear opted for a light clean up.

After combing through her hair and
washing her face, she decided to heck with it and jumped in for a
quick shower. After the good scrub, she felt so much more alive and
was actually feeling a little bit happy. Throwing on some casual
clothes, she stepped out of the bathroom.

Grant was sitting on the couch and had
a to-go box on the table. Better yet, no Detective Bryce. Clear
couldn’t stop the squeal. “You brought me food!!” she yelped,
moving quickly to the table.

Grant nodded, a faint smile on his
lips. “I figured after skipping out on lunch and… everything, you
would probably be hungry.”

She dove in, savoring the chicken
fingers and nibbling on the still-warm fries. Glancing over, she
caught his smile. “What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.
Surreptitiously she glanced down to see if she had spilled
anything.

He shook his head. “It’s just good to
see a woman who likes to eat.”

She eyed him curiously and wondered if
part of her good mood was the overwhelming sense of calm and…
almost… happiness coming from him. Was his emotional placidity part
of the reason for her improvement? But her hunger was more
important than analyzing this new feeling. She dove back into the
food.

Grant watched Clear eating and tried
to suppress the smile. He couldn’t help how he felt about her,
though. Despite all the trouble with having to work with Bryce
again, despite having to deal with his ex-wife again, despite the
constant worry for his daughter, there was something comforting in
knowing that Clear was here with him. To come back to the room and
hear her humming in the bathroom, obviously feeling so much better,
made him feel better. He sighed inwardly, knowing how badly it was
going to hurt to lose her again. But he decided that despite
everything that was wrong in his world at the moment, and despite
the knowledge of the pain he would feel when she would shut him out
again; he had to have something and this was it.

“
You seem to be feeling
better,” he acknowledged.

Clear nodded, mouth full of
food.

“
That’s good.” He picked
up the remote and turned the TV on as a distraction, but casually
watched her from the corner of his eye. She grabbed her food box
and came to sit next to him. He changed the channel to the news.
Seeing the pain in her face as they talked about a fire that was
tearing through the industrial district, he changed the channel
looking for something light and happy. He found The Care Bears and
stopped, chuckling lightly. “Kat used to love the Care Bears.” He
watched a few minutes longer, then went back to the
guide.

“
I liked them too,” Clear
smiled, nodding. So he left it on the Care Bears. It felt a little
silly, two grown people watching a children’s cartoon. But the warm
memories were too enticing. He wasn’t really watching it anyway,
just enjoying the fond memories. He could see that Clear was
enjoying it, though and that made it all the better. Even though in
many ways she was still just a kid, that was part of the appeal.
The thought made him feel a little ashamed. He shrugged it off. He
wasn’t going to push for a relationship with her. Whatever her
reason for not talking to him for the last severa months was her
business, but he didn’t necessarily disagree with her. He knew he
wasn’t good for her, even if she made him feel so much better. It
wasn’t enough.