Broken Road (25 page)

“I know. But…I was just feeling so much…too much…” Her breathing was beginning to quicken again.

“It’s called passion. Passion is good.”

“Ummm…so good,” she said, and now the acceleration of her heart rate was competing with the rushing of her breath.

And then he kissed her again. This time there was no gentleness to it. He pressed her back against the wall and kissed her with voracious intensity. He found himself inwardly moaning and wanting desperately to be one with her.

She broke away again. “Jarrod, we have to slow down.”

“Angel, I’m dying for you. You’re so beautiful…”

“This is all so new to me,” she said, trying to slow her mind and body to a normal pace.

“You’ve never kissed a man before?” he asked, shocked, although he knew the answer to that. Of course she’d been kissed before. No novice could kiss so well.

“I’ve kissed before. What’s new to me are the feelings. I’ve never felt so much, so quickly or so strongly before. It scares me.”

“I know. Me too.” He found he was having a difficult time getting his body to behave and cooperate. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He tried kissing her again, but she pressed both her hands on his chest and pushed slightly.

“Jarrod, no.”

He took a deep breath and said, “Okay. You’re right. We’ll take it nice and slow.” He slowly backed away, but still held her hand. He brought it up to his lips and said, “Until tomorrow” and then he kissed it.

He watched her walk into the building. Once he knew she was safely inside, he turned and walked toward his parked car.

In the meantime Morgan watched furiously as she hid within the darkness of a dark alley across the street.

The following day Angel decided to surprise Jarrod by meeting him at the rehab center. He was already in session when she got there. He hadn’t noticed her when she arrived, so she stayed out of the way to avoid distracting him. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily as a result of the heavy exertion, but he never gave up. It was obvious he was in pain, based on the grunts and moans he was making, but he dealt with it and moved forward, never complaining. Her heart ached for him, but it also swelled with pride at his dedication and commitment.

When he was finally done, he sat exhausted in a chair, trying to catch his breath as he wiped his sweat with a towel and gulped down water from a bottle. He didn’t even notice when she quietly sat beside him in an empty chair.

“Tired?” she asked.

He turned in surprise and smiled. “When did you get here?”

“About a half hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted.”

“I’m sure.” She glanced around the facility and took note of the number of people, varied ages, and legion of diverse injuries that were being treated. As an elderly woman limped past them, Angel took a deep whiff and said with a melancholic smile to Jarrod, “She smells like my grandma.”

“Huh?” he asked.

“The little old lady who just passed us. She smells just like my grandma. Jean Nate Splash.”

With a hint of a smile, he said, “That’s Mrs. Pierce. She’s a sweet lady. She fell in her bathroom and broke her hip a few months ago, so she comes here twice a week for therapy.” He chuckled and added, “Give her half an hour, and I guarantee she won’t smell like your grandma anymore. More like Kobe Bryant after an intense game.”

Angel smiled and said, “Anyway, I saw how hard you were working out. Exactly what type of treatment do you receive when you come here?”

“We basically focus on range of motion, strengthening, and conditioning. The therapy is sports-specific and is designed to help me regain full function so I can perform at my best level.”

“I’m impressed. I do ten sit-ups and I’m practically laid up in bed for a week,” said Angel.

“Crazy thing is, I used to be able to work out a thousand times harder than this, and I’d barely break a sweat. Now…”

“Now you’re taking a body that’s been through the wringer and you’re reconditioning it. That’s not an easy thing to do, but you’re doing it. Just be patient and don’t give up.” Then she kissed him tenderly on the lips and whispered, “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. Proud enough to give me another kiss?” he said, smiling.

Grinning, she leaned over again and gave him another soft kiss, but this one lingered just a little bit longer than the first.

“That’s all for now,” she said as she sat back, favoring him with that brilliant smile that he had quickly learned to love. “You smell like Mrs. Pierce will in half an hour.”

He sighed, stood up slowly, and then groaned mutely as he rubbed his aching shoulder. “I’ll go take a quick shower and then we can head out.”

“Take your time. I’ll just sit here and entertain myself by watching all these young, hot, firm, sweaty men working out.”

Jarrod quickly glanced around and realized there were indeed a few young men scattered about.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes. Behave,” he said laughingly as he walked away.

Forty-five minutes later they arrived at Evie’s Florist. The exterior of the building was of no special architectural or artistic makeup. It was a simple, white stucco edifice with little character. On the other hand, once one entered the shop, it was an entirely different story. The shop smelled heavenly and was beautifully decorated with white gossamer chiffon and layers of twinkling lights amidst the flora and greenery. Angel felt as though she had mistakenly walked into a magical enchanted forest. Michael Buble’s rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight” was playing softly in the background, lending an air of elegance and quiet sophistication to the establishment. A middle-aged man stood behind the counter perusing through a stack of orders. As he noticed the young couple approaching him, he pleasantly asked, “How may I help you today?”

Jarrod explained the situation to the gentleman and was informed in a nice, professional manner that he could not supply him with the information he was requesting.

“I understand your concern, but it’s a privacy issue. I remember taking that order because of what she wanted written on the card. I also remember her saying, in no uncertain terms, that her identity was not to be revealed.”

“Her?” Jarrod and Angel both said.

“Yes, but she said she was ordering it for her boss. She intimated that the flowers were not for his wife and this is where the confidentiality issue prevails.”

“Her boss?” said Angel. That would mean the man who sent her the roses was older than she, and married as well. “That’s weird,” she said. She had barely been in the area a few months and definitely hadn’t developed a relationship with anyone older than herself. Aside from Jarrod and Ileana, the only other person she interacted with on a daily basis was her roommate, Ava.

Jarrod rubbed his face in frustration.

“Is there any way at all you can help us out? I’m worried about my girlfriend’s safety.” That was the first time Jarrod had referred to Angel as his girlfriend. Angel felt a mixture of pride and happiness with that small detail that was insignificant to anyone other than herself. Jarrod looked at her and smiled, knowing she had picked up on his territorial declaration. He felt as much pride in saying it as she did in hearing it.

“I understand. I do. I wish I could help, but I don’t want any trouble. It could be bad for business. I have a reputation for respecting the privacy of my customers and I don’t want to do anything that would put that in jeopardy. I’m sorry I can’t help.”

“What if the police were to ask you to give them that information?” Jarrod asked.

“Then, without hesitation, I would cooperate as the law dictates,” said the owner. Then he added, “But you’re not the police.”

Angel quickly turned her head to face Jarrod and said, “The police?”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t reach that point.”

They thanked the owner and walked out. Once outside, Angel turned to Jarrod and said, “Now I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” she said as she leaned into his open arms and felt warm and safe as he wrapped them around her. She looked up into his eyes and said, “But don’t you think it’s strange that a married man is sending me flowers?”

“I’m more worried about what he wrote on the card. If it was just the flowers, it could be just about anything. Maybe you did something nice for someone and he sent the roses as a thank you, or maybe someone wanted to wish you good luck in college…anything, really. But the fact that this man said what he did about being half a man, with half a heart…well, that bothers and worries the hell out of me.”

“That’s true,” she said.

They walked toward his car and he opened the door for her. As she settled in, he walked around and got in himself. He started the car, but didn’t put it into motion.

“Can you remember at any time meeting an older man and getting a feeling he was interested in you?” he asked.

“No, not at all.”

“What about a professor?”

She thought hard. “No. No one.”

“Alright. Well, let’s not go crazy over this. Eventually we’ll find out who your secret admirer is. In the meantime I want you to be extra careful, okay? No staying out late unless you’re with me. No going anywhere alone, not even during the day. Start paying closer attention to your surroundings and those around you and…”

“And I promise not to take any candy from strangers or help them look for lost puppies either,” she said jokingly.

“Very funny. But seriously…”

“Seriously. I promise to be careful. Scouts honor,” she said as she raised her right hand in an oath-making gesture.

“That’s my girl,” he said as he leaned over and pressed a light kiss on her lips. He pulled out of the parking space and drove toward her dorm.

Chapter Twenty-Four

M
organ was seething as she paced back and forth in her room. Unfortunately, her bedroom was so small that her treading only allowed her to take four steps forward before she was forced to turn around and take four steps back. The small area rug she had purchased just last week was already showing signs of wear with a slightly faded path right down the middle.

Every time she pictured them together or remembered how he had kissed Angelise, she wanted to squeeze the life out of them both. Especially her cousin. She was supposed to be loyal. Hadn’t she ever heard of the phrase, “Blood is thicker than water?” What a backstabbing traitorous bitch her cousin had turned out to be.

She heard a car pull into the driveway and raced to the window to see who it was. It was Benjamin. She didn’t know of anyone else on this planet who would be seen driving a car like his. Not only was the man disturbing, but he had no taste. She watched him open the door to his once cherry red but now lukewarm copper 1988 Dodge Shadow. How it still ran was a mystery to her. Compared to his car, her mother’s Toyota was a match for a brand-new Turbo Porsche 911. He stepped out of the car, stopped to wipe his glasses on his filthy, stink-ridden denim jacket, and walked around the house to enter through the back door. Morgan wondered why he always used the back door rather than the front door, which was closer to the driveway. She also wondered why he always wiped his feet exactly thirteen times and twisted the doorknob three times before opening the door and entering. Everything about this man gave her the creeps. His obsessive compulsions, the weird way he would pull at his hair when he thought no one was looking, and his lack of concern for personal hygiene. His dark black hair was forever greasy and constantly leaving a light coating of dandruff on his dark clothing. His eyebrows were so bushy; she was dying to take tweezers to them. She grimaced at the thought of tweezers. Every time she saw or even thought of that torturous tool of hair removal, the memory of when she was forced to yank out her nose hairs to build up a few measly tears for Jarrod’s sake would hit her like an express train at rush hour. It made her sick to think of all the physical and emotional pain she’d been required to endure since Angelise and Jarrod met. Damn her for ever coming to New Jersey in the first place.