Fugue State (31 page)

She remembered her need for vindication and shuddered. She couldn’t bear to talk about it any longer. She couldn’t stand to see the pain on his face. “How did you find me, Britt?” She regained some composure by turning the conversation back to their reunion.

“Jeff Huggins. He texted me that he saw you in New York. He said he operated on you. I was worried.” The old-man lines spread over his face once more. “I made him tell me where to find you, Lex. I needed to see you. I had to know you were okay.” He tried to turn the worried look into a smile, but his face looked twisted and irregular. His expression reflected his broken demeanor. “What are you doing here, Lex?”

Unprepared for the question, she stammered, “I — I’m taking some classes at a fashion school here. I don’t want to work in medicine, Britt.”

A faint nod confirmed his understanding. “I’m done with politics,” he offered.

No! Because of me? He didn’t win the election.
No. His dull eyes said it was more than that.

“I can’t. Not like this, Lex.” Hands motioned to the chair beneath him.

“Oh, Britt! There’s so much to say. Can’t we go somewhere more private?”

“I’m staying at little bed and breakfast nearby.”

She cast her eyes around the café and shrank away from the strangers’ glances. “Can we go there? I want to be alone with you.” A lustful twinge arose in her bosom with the thought of being alone with Britt, and a pink hue settled on her cheeks. She watched him fumble to scoot away from the table and out the door.

He rolled awkwardly down the street. They moved together in silence. Never would Alexa have imagined seeing Britt again and saying so little to him. There was something very solemn about their stroll, as if they were departing a funeral. A few more tears slid down her face. She mourned Britt’s missing leg and his lost pride.

He was so confident and boisterous, but now he hasn’t any passion for life.
His head hung lower than she remembered.
He seems apathetic. It’s heart-wrenching.

They waited until they were safe in Britt’s room to say anything to one another. Alexa watched him struggle to move from the chair to the bed. She reached out a hand, but pulled it back, knowing the independent man she remembered wouldn’t want help.

Once he was situated, she sat close to him and reached for whatever she could touch. Her hands caressed his thigh and shoulder.

Britt deflected her intimate touch. “Why did Jeff have to operate on you? Are you okay?” His eyes moved up and down her frame, looking for clues.

She lifted a hand to the scar on her neck. “It was nothing, really. A broken bone, that’s all.” She grew tense with emotion. Her face burned, and she cried in full force. “Oh, Britt. The things that have happened, the things I’ve done, you’d never believe. I can’t imagine how to explain it to you.” She’d never considered disclosing her actions, trying to justify it all to another human being.
It’s incomprehensible.

He leaned over and silenced her by pressing his lips against hers. She melted. Her heart settled on a feeling that was neither love nor lust. She desired a change — to alter the course of her life in a way that would once more coincide with Britt’s. She couldn’t risk losing him again. She needed to find a way to make this work.

Their kiss ended. He pressed his forehead to hers and looked into her eyes. “I never stopped loving you, Lex.”

Her heart devoured his words, while her head toiled with the concern that he had returned to her only after having fallen from his pillar. He was a shell of the man he had been. Now a broken creature, he shared her wounded soul.

The change in Britt was more than she could swallow. She yearned for the man she once knew. Worse than her life falling apart was watching Britt’s life shatter before her. “I’ve always loved you, Britt. I always will.”

He kissed her again. Each time their lips met, it felt more natural. Resisting every urge coursing through her body, Alexa diverted her attention to Britt’s missing leg. It was too early, too soon, but the doctor within her pushed forward. “I need to see your leg. Please.”

The grimace he wore conveyed his dismay.

“Please,” she repeated.

Reluctantly, he pulled up the leg of his left trouser and displayed his healing stump.
A below-the-knee amputation
. She crouched down and scrutinized the scar.
It’s healing well.
Her glance returned to Britt’s agitated face.

“We’re getting you a prosthesis. You’re ready for it. The scar is healed enough now —”

He stopped her with a finger to her lips. “Lex, not now. Please.” He pulled her face close to his once more. This time she let herself fall into his embrace, and the two found themselves tangled in one another’s arms. Lips, hands, and fingers moved across skin as they rediscovered one another. Alexa’s body came to life, with tingles erupting throughout her sensitive places as Britt suckled her flesh until she moaned. Their reunion sparked a new energy within her. She longed to feel him inside her again — to be touched there. She gave into him instantly, and they made love on Britt’s bed. It was different than before, in part because of Britt’s new challenges. But there was more. Every touch felt more intense. He was more aggressive than she remembered. He had been so tender, his kisses so gentle.

Now, Britt moved with animal instinct. His lips pressed hard with purpose, and his teeth nipped her skin impulsively. It was a confusing mix of pleasure and pain. Alexa felt herself behave more direct and forceful as well, her inhibitions unrestrained.

After ravaging one another, they collapsed on the bed. Britt drifted into sleep. Alexa lay there wondering. This intensity was so different than what they had known, but somehow it seemed right.
We share a core of pent-up aggression now. The hostility that allowed me to kill Jamar, the hostility that I embraced and allowed me to kill the others — Britt shares that with me now.

Her lungs let out a long, deflated sigh
. How twisted we have become.
He harbors the same internal hatred, but Britt never had his revenge
. Alexa contemplated their differences.
Maybe it’s better if Britt never has the opportunity for vindication. Succumbing to that urge makes the dark inside even darker. I did things I never would have thought possible.

She rolled over and admired Britt sleeping. He looked beautiful and peaceful and immaculate. As much as she loved him, and loved the opportunity to have him back in her life, she would easily forfeit their glorious reunion if it would make him whole again. She examined the rumpled sheets piled on the bed where Britt’s leg should have been.
God, I would have given him up forever if I could have saved his leg. If I could save his soul from the darkness of revenge, I would give my own life.
Instead, he was broken just like her, and once more they understood each other.

Too tired to mourn another moment, she closed her weary eyes, and they both slept.

CHAPTER 39

B
ritt made the bed and breakfast his temporary residence, while Alexa stayed at her carriage house. They spent several hours together each day. She scheduled an appointment for him with a prosthetics specialist. In a stubborn moment of self-loathing, Britt canceled the appointment. He had no desire to recover.

She found his diffidence intolerable. Not only had Britt suffered physically and emotionally after the incident, his business began to suffer financially. It was another sore subject he didn’t speak to her about, but she caught subtle details in his phone conversations before he slipped out of the room.

Determined to pluck him from his dismal state, she tricked him into attending a second appointment with the prosthetist. The clinic was on the path they strolled regularly, and she stopped him at the door. “It’s time, Britt. You have to start walking again. It’s ridiculous that you roll about in that chair all day like you’re helpless, when you could be walking and running and independent again.”

He winced as she broached the subject, wounded by her words. He never spoke of his leg. “You brought me here on purpose? Knowing I wasn’t ready?” His expression contorted from a look of hurt to the wide-eyed fear of a child on his first day of school.

“You’re here because you are ready,” she pressed, grabbing the handles on the back of his chair and pushing him into the office before he had the opportunity to counter. “I push you because I love you.”

In spite of his initial hostility, Britt tried multiple prosthetics, including sports models for running and more standard models for everyday life. Once upright, the muscles in his thighs flexed, and she recognized the chiseled physique of the athlete she remembered. When he was able to take a few steps on his own, she saw the life return to his eyes.

He spent hours each day in physical therapy while she put her time into her clothing collection. It took half of the fall semester for Alexa to design and finish thirty-seven separate pieces that she combined to form fifteen distinct outfits. Now, she wanted to show them to the world.

She began with a phone call to Jeff Huggins. His sister worked as a buyer for a national department store in New York City. She had worked with designers for years. Moreover, she knew several of them on a personal level. Jeff gladly gave Alexa his sister’s contact information. He asked her about Britt. His tone seemed overly inquisitive, and Alexa tried her best to move past the subject politely.

“Thank you so much, Jeff, for bringing Britt and me back together. I never would have thought it was possible.”

Jeff chuckled. “I figured you were still stuck on the guy. I tried all my best moves on you, and you just shied away from me. I guess some guys have all the luck.”

He was flirting with me the day of my surgery!
She had suspected as much. “What can I say, Jeff? It was never really over for Britt and me. It never will be.” It felt good to finally admit the truth after struggling a whole year to push him out of her heart.

“I understand, Lex. Best of luck to you both. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

Jeff’s sister proved an invaluable resource. She had enough connections in the city that after four phone calls, Alexa had a meeting with a coordinator for a prominent winter fashion show featuring upcoming designers when a last minute spot opened up. Most of the designers were from New York fashion schools, and they were first-timers all around; however, the show was known for attracting a small crowd of celebutantes, well-known designers, and buyers alike.

Alexa became ecstatic as her new life materialized. She had only four weeks to prepare. The time lapsed in fast forward, consisting of romantic trysts coupled with Britt and moments of solitude toiling behind her sewing machine. She worked hard to keep some distance between them. She needed breaks of reality to maintain her senses and ease the transition. While she worked dutifully, Britt managed his company via teleconference. She kept her work out of his sight, waiting for a final reveal. He went solo to his physical therapy sessions working with the prosthesis, not allowing her to see his progress until she had to leave for New York, three days before the show.

She invited him to the carriage house to meet Gray. He eyed the cat sitting on the couch when he first entered the room. Britt set down the cane he had been using and walked across the room on his casual prosthetic without falter and scooped Gray into his arms.

“Oh, Britt! You walked perfectly! How could you keep your progress from me like that?”

He flashed a grin and gestured to the numerous garment bags lined up across the room. “I guess we all have our secrets, Lex.”

She hadn’t realized before the resemblance the garment bags bore with the body bag in the back of the van in Versailles. Her shoulders slumped.
Yes, Britt. We all have our secrets.
She licked her lips.
I have to tell him.
But she lost her courage and diverted her attention to the clothes inside the bags. “Will you help me load the bags into boxes for shipping?”

His eyes stayed on the cat. “My friend here and I don’t get a peek first?”

She waved her finger in his face, interrupting his glance. “No, sir. Not until the show.”

His fingers stroked Gray’s ears. “All right. Looks like Gray and I are headed to New York.”

While loading her boxes to be shipped, Alexa received a call on the relatively new cell phone tucked into her Fendi clutch. The screen read: number unavailable. It wasn’t the Crackerjack phone, but she wondered if the unlisted number could be Mike. Both bewildered and excited, she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice quivered in trepidation. She heard heavy breathing on the other end of the receiver, but no response.

“Hello?” she repeated, this time with a sense of eagerness in her voice.

“Hey, Poppy girl.”

“Mike!” she gasped. Her heart flooded with emotion as her eyes filled with tears.

“Had to check on you — make sure you were doing okay.”

“Yes. Yes, Mike, I’m doing fine. How are you? Are you well?”

“I’m all right. They’ve kept me pretty busy since you left. Got me working with a couple of young’uns, still wet behind the ears. One of ‘em didn’t last too long. . . .” His voice trailed off.

Her mind veered back to the body bag, suspecting that was what Mike was referencing. Her insides shuddered momentarily, followed by instant relief that it wasn’t her body in the bag.

“You have a new man in your life,” he continued.

“No, Mike. He’s not new — he just found his way back to me, that’s all.” The joy contained within each word was tremendous, and she knew Mike could appreciate it.

“Good. I needed to know that things went right for you, Poppy girl.”

Alexa pictured Mike’s watery eyes, his face warm and red with sentiment. It was the same emotional state he developed when he talked about Lily.
Lily.

“Mike, how’s Lily?” she had to ask. She knew he had a tendency to equate her with his daughter.

He paused before he answered. “I’m here to see her, Poppy. I took some time away, and I’m in Atlanta to see Lily. She’s gonna be married soon, and I just wanted a chance to see her before the wedding. I’m not sure how it’s gonna go. . . .”