Fugue State (32 page)

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Authors: M.C. Adams

BOOK: Fugue State
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“It’ll be fine, Mike. It will be joyful and sorrowful all at once. It will be emotional; you both will cry. But in the end, it will all be fine. Trust me. I’m someone who just had my lost love return. It’s all I could have ever hoped for. She wants to see you. I’m glad you’re going.”

“Yeah, I’m glad, too. It’s about time.” He let out a long, drawn out sigh. Then his tone became serious. “I want you to know something, Poppy . . . the two sons-of-bitches that took your man’s leg got what was coming to them. I guarantee you that. I know a couple of the guys who worked that case. . . . Anyway, I just thought you should know. That’s all.”

Alexa hesitated.
Yes. Of course he knows everything.
She rolled her eyes to herself and smiled into the receiver.
If only I could let Britt know, but that would mean telling him everything.
Her throat tightened.
We’re so close now. Telling him could change that.

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it. I’d like to see you again, when the time is right. You could meet Britt.”

“I’d like that.” His voice became anxious again.

“Mike, go see Lily. See Lily now. And thanks for calling.”

“Bye, Poppy.”

After dropping off her boxes, she headed to the airport to catch her evening flight. She left two days early to fit the models and finish any last minute details. Britt would arrive the day of the show. She used the flight to New York to hash out a plan to confess her European escapades to Britt in a manner he might find palatable.

After a half hour of reliving the horror of it all, she feared it was a worthless venture.
After Jamar, how could I discuss Castro or Ivan in a way he would ever find acceptable?
How can I expect Britt to understand everything I’ve done? I’m not sure I understand it myself.
Distraught, she ordered a vodka soda. Although the vodka compelled her to keep the truth hidden from him forever, she resolved to tell him. No amount of planning in the world could make
those words
bearable.

CHAPTER 40

H
er two-day prep time was a flurry of activity. Several models had been switched due to schedule changes and nothing fit properly on the replacements. She spent hours measuring and performing alterations. In spite of the incidents thrown her way, everything came together the afternoon before the show. Britt called from the airport as Alexa grabbed a cab back to her hotel. He came earlier than she expected.

She arrived in her room to find that Britt had beaten her there, and Gray was with him. They both sat sprawled out on the bed.

“Surprise, Babe.” Britt’s voice was calm and coy. He seethed confidence.

That’s the Britt I remember.
She bit her lip as she undressed him with her eyes. Her hands went to Gray, prolonging her desire for Britt. She plopped onto the bed and pressed her face into his belly. The cat purred loudly.
Mmm, so soothing.

Britt reached his arms around her stomach and tugged her toward him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.

“I thought we could have a romantic dinner tonight to celebrate your big day.”

“You mean celebrate
before
the big day? Isn’t that a little supercilious?”

“No. Not in the least.” He smiled his
come hither
smile that had won her over years ago. It was nice to see him playful and seductive. It had been too long. She had feared he lost that part of himself.

“When’s dinner?” she asked, sliding her hand under his shirt.

He pulled her close, pressed his lips to hers, and then whispered into her ear, “After we shower.”

She followed him to the shower, where they peeled each other’s clothes off and slipped inside. There was a bench that allowed Britt to sit comfortably. Alexa straddled him and began moving up and down rhythmically. She shifted to turn backwards but Britt stopped her, clutching her toward his chest.

He pulled her forehead into his and vertical crevices formed between his eyes. “It has to be like this, forever, Lex. You can’t just leave me like you did before. You said it was best for me, like you were trying to save me, or something. You have no idea. I needed you. I won’t let you push me away again.” He held her so tightly that his arms stifled her breath.

She nodded repeatedly until her whole body was moving up and down, her hips gyrating against his pelvis until they climaxed in unison. Afterward, Alexa dressed in a red silk, one-shoulder dress with an uneven hemline. The shoulder fabric covered the scar on her collarbone perfectly.

Britt put on a handsome gray suit. The two headed to dinner across the street at a pricey French restaurant for a five-course meal. Indulging in French champagne, Alexa was tipsy before they got to course four.

Everything was so familiar between them again. She felt whole and safe. She stared at the candlelight flickering on the table and reached out with both hands to feel its warmth.
Levende lys.
Just like their night together in Paris.

Britt stood and reached for something from his jacket pocket. It was a jewelry box. He fumbled with the lid. He was reciting something to her about love lost and love regained, but the candle warmth distracted her, and she pulled back her hands before she burned them. Beyond tipsy, she had slipped into a state of drunkenness and strained to make sense of his words. She cocked her head to one side.

Britt leaned toward her and opened the box. A beautiful gold and ruby necklace lay inside. She reached out with one hand to touch it. The other hand rubbed the scar on her neck nervously.
Oh, Britt you can’t afford this.
Her mind swam as she tried to decipher what was happening.

“I’m so happy, Lex. I’m happy for you and me and — just happy. You’re getting back on your feet. I’m getting back on mine. I just wanted to celebrate things right. I wanted to give you something beautiful.” He took the necklace from the box and unfastened the clasp. “It’s a choker, to cover your scar,” he mumbled. “You’re always touching it. I know you’re self-conscious about it. I know what that’s like.” Britt motioned to his prosthesis. “Now when you reach up to touch it, you’ll touch this necklace instead. Something beautiful and happy.” He smiled briefly.

Unsure how to respond, Alexa pulled up her hair and let him put the necklace on her neck. He sat down at the table and beamed at her. He was right. The necklace covered the scar perfectly. She loved it, but it made her uneasy. Covering her scars, her battle wounds, felt like covering up the truth. Her stomach churned. She was hiding so much from Britt. She had to tell him the truth
now
. She gulped down what was left of the champagne in her glass as the fourth course made it to the table. “Britt, the necklace is beautiful. I love it. I love you. Nothing is more important than having you back in my life.” She paused and sank her teeth into her lip. “But I need to tell you what happened during the time we were apart.”

He reached out a hand across the table. She touched it reluctantly.

“You’re not going to like what you hear, Britt.”

“Then don’t tell me, Lex.” His voice was suddenly stern.

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. I don’t want to know. You pushed me away before. Not this time.” His eyes cut through her.

“Britt, you deserve to know the truth. So you can decide for yourself. . . .”

“I don’t want us to be apart anymore.” His hands clung to hers. “After Jamar, you wouldn’t let me touch you. I tried to comfort you and you pulled away from me, like I was that monster. I stopped touching you because I was afraid of hurting you. I thought I had to leave you. But you’re better now. We’re better. Nothing can ruin this.”

“I don’t want us to be apart, either. But I want you to know the truth. You should hear it from me. If you can accept me for who I am —”

“What are you going to tell me? There was another guy? I don’t care.”

“No. There was no other guy.”

“Did you commit a crime? I don’t care.” His gaze remained firm.

“Yes. Something like that.” Her voice turned quiet.

“You killed someone?” His volume matched hers.

“Yes.” She didn’t shrink from his gaze. She would not be ashamed of her actions.

“Like you killed Jamar?” His face was blank, unreadable.

“Sort of.”

“You killed someone who deserved it?”

She nodded. “Yes. I think so.”

He blinked. “Then I don’t care.”

His reaction didn’t make sense to her. She tried again. “You don’t understand, Britt. I did it willingly. Not in self-defense. I willingly chose to take their lives.”

“Their lives?”

“Yes. There were two of them. I killed two men.”

His face remained blank.

“Why did you do it, Lex?”

“They were dangerous men. They killed innocent people.” She couldn’t believe she wasn’t crying.

“Well, Lex. It sounds to me like you did the right thing.” He took a long sip from his glass of wine. “Just like killing Jamar was the right thing. I understand that now.” He finished off the rest of his wine and set down the empty glass firmly enough to jostle the table. “If I could have killed the bastards in Boston who set off those bombs, I would have done it.”

His words shocked her.
Oh God, he is broken like me.
Alexa took a deep breath and massaged his hands with her fingers until his grasp softened. “Don’t say that, Britt. Please. It’s not as easy as you think. I don’t know what’s right anymore. I know that I did it. But I wouldn’t say that I’m proud of it. Killing someone is not something to be proud of. If you can accept the things I’ve done, let’s move on. Okay?”

“I can accept it.” His face contorted like a sulking child, and resentment hung on his brow. She couldn’t look at him like that. She lowered her glance and talked into the table.

“The bombers did pay, Britt. I was assured that. They paid, and you never had to dirty your hands in the matter. Please, take comfort in that. Okay?”

When she looked back at him, the lines on his forehead had relaxed. “Okay.” A glimmer of warmth returned to his eye. “Do you really like the necklace?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful!” She changed her tone to help change the subject.

“Then don’t think of those horrible things when you wear it. Don’t think of your scars and what happened. Think of me.”

Just like with the nightmares, Britt was giving her a strategy to try to overcome the pain of what had happened. He was her pillar of strength once more.

“Then I’ll wear it every day.” She smiled, and so did he.

CHAPTER 41

T
he rest of the dinner was a romantic blur that ended at the hotel room with another moment of passion before Alexa fell asleep entwined in Britt’s arms. Her slumber was interrupted by the sound of her early morning alarm. It was the day of her runway show, and she wanted plenty of time to prepare.

She stood in front of an oversized full-length mirror in the nineteen-forties Hollywood-style hotel suite and admired her outfit. She had opted for a white silk dress of her own design. The one-shoulder neckline concealed the scar on her clavicle, and she complemented the dress with the ruby red choker Britt had given her and a pair of sky-high gold, strappy sandals.

Alexa pressed her lips to her sleeping Britt and patted Gray on the head, and then grabbed a large red leather satchel full of supplies and a cup of coffee before heading out of the door. Although still dark outside, she didn’t have to wait long for a taxi. With minimal traffic, she made it to the museum where the show would be held long before the majority of the designers and earlier than any of her models. She spent her time steaming garments and attacking them one by one with a lint roller.

The building slowly filled with people, and Alexa felt a hustle in the air around her. A middle-aged woman appeared in the masses, shouting Alexa’s name.

“Miss DeBrow? Miss Alexa DeBrow?”

Alexa turned toward the sound.

“Yes. I’m Alexa DeBrow.”

The woman pushed a clipboard into Alexa’s hands. “I’ll need you to sign for your flowers, Miss.”

Alexa’s initial thought was Britt, but when she eyed the bouquet interspersed with red poppies, she knew otherwise. She grasped the flowers and searched expectantly for the card. There it was.

Gonna walk my daughter down the aisle. I wanted you to know.

Warmth spread across her face as she read Mike’s news. She put her face against the bouquet and inhaled the floral scent.
Thanks, Mike
.

Alexa set the flowers aside as her first model arrived and she directed her to the makeup artist. The rest of the morning consisted of hair and makeup adjustments and some last-minute alterations.

The announcer called her name, and her models began lining up. She was second to last of twelve designers. Alexa peeked out from behind curtain and made eye contact with Britt. Finally, her turn. She stepped out to make a brief introduction. “Hi, I’m Alexa DeBrow.”

Her words immediately brought forth murmurs from the crowd. She continued despite their whispers. “The title of my collection is Metamorphosis. It reflects my experiences over the past two years, serving as visual allegory of my struggles and fears, as well as the sense of clarity and purity I wish to gain. Enjoy!”

Members of the crowd were still exchanging glances with one another when Alexa turned and walked back behind the curtain.
They haven’t forgotten.
My name engenders distrust and fear in the minds of strangers.
I could have chosen a different name. Charlie offered me an out
. She could have embraced fugue state and gained her indemnity; instead, she chose to resolve her past.
I’ll make them forget. I’ll replace that memory with something else, something beautiful. Just like Britt did with my scar and the necklace.

She held her breath as the first model stepped onto the runway. She was a tall thin blonde with layers of structured black fabric wrapped around her body like armor. Selective cutaway elements revealed bare skin on the upper thigh and clavicle, the slashes in the fabric simulating Alexa’s battle wounds. Her model’s red lips were painted into pressed lines with upturned corners, like smiles on dolls; they bore the look of complacency.

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