Garda - Welcome to the Realm (18 page)

“Well, that’s an easy promise.” She stood up and dusted off her pants. “I’ve kind of had my wings clipped, so I can’t leave even if I wanted to.”

We shared a smile, and she turned to walk away. The sight of her hips swaying and her bare feet gently touching the wooden dock entranced me.

She turned a few steps down, “Brock, what happened with the woman you loved?” Her face was in shadows but so familiar to me that I could picture her speaking the words and the questioning look that would be on her face.

“Nothing yet,” I cleared my throat, “I’m still waiting to see if she will love me back.”

If my feet had not been stuck to the spot by fear, I would have walked to her and taken her then.

“Brock,” her voice cracked on the breeze, “who is the woman?”

“Go rest, Coralenna, we have a lot to do tomorrow.” I phased from the dock before she could question me any further. Part of me prayed she would follow me; demand to know who I was talking about, while the other part of me feared that she was not ready to hear the truth—that I loved her.

~ Corey ~

“I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know.” I spoke the words almost like a chant over and over again as I made my way back to my quarters.

Brock’s last words haunted me. I told myself he wasn’t speaking of me—or could I be the one he was waiting to find out about?

With a muffled grunt, I punched the button on the inside of the elevator to take me to my floor, my emotions too conflicted to allow me to phase. I stood trying to see through the glass wall of the elevator, but with the darkness behind the glass, only my tense body was reflected back to me.

When the elevator binged, I spun around and slipped out the door just as it started to open, just barely sliding through sideways. The feeling that I was being chased tapped at my heels, and I moved quickly down the hall to my room.

At the front of my door, I stopped and stared at the door knocker. Once upon a time, my life had been equal, balanced, fulfilling. Once upon a time, I’d had the yin and the yang working side by side. Right now, it felt like the yang was seriously out of whack.

I pushed open the door and was afraid that I would find someone waiting for me on the other side. I listened to the quiet, the view to my balcony right in front of me: empty. I released a sigh, finally a chance to be alone.

Almost immediately I felt the weight of everything come to rest on my shoulders. I made my way to my bedroom and pulled out a soft, long T-shirt to wear. Climbing under the covers, I rested my cheek on the soft down pillow.

Silence echoed off the walls around me, not just in the room, but in my mind. There were no voices calling me, no feelings of sadness and pain.

Mitchell—the word filled the void as his face graced the back of my eyelids. My heart ached to see him. Are you dealing with this, Mitch? Are you still blaming yourself? Do you still miss me?

Memories of my last kiss with him settled into my mind, and I started to drift off to sleep.

~ Mitchell ~

Ninety-eight days…ninety-eight days ago you left my world. The thought raced through my mind as I revved the throttle on my bike and drove faster on the highway.

When I wasn’t working and the weather was at least somewhat decent, riding had become my new daily habit. The memory that I had never taken her for the ride she wanted stood forefront in my mind each time.

I would climb on the seat and rev the engine up, always pretending that she was seated behind me as I drove the curved mountain roads north of where I lived.

I put hundreds of miles on my bike with a memory sitting behind me, soft strong arms wrapped around my stomach, tight thighs pressed to my butt and hips.

She had trusted me. I had promised to keep her safe. I had broken that promise.

I pulled over to the side of the road, shut down my bike, and listened to the endless silence. Since the day of the funeral I hadn’t heard her voice in my mind or felt her presence. I was alone with my memories and my pain.

I stood at the top of an observation point, nothing but forest dotted the landscape in front of me. I pulled out my cell phone; our last text message conversation was still there. I rolled my finger over the message, reading the words one more time—not that I didn’t already have them memorized. I’d read them a thousand times, but seeing the words on the screen reminded me that it had once been real.

Before putting the phone away, I glanced at the clock, 1:52. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and climbed onto my bike. My order would be ready when I returned.

I drove the forty miles back, allowing the wind to brush past me and suck at the memories that gushed like a swollen stream over large river rocks.

The small strip mall lay just outside the city I worked in. I parked my bike and made my way inside the florist shop. Since my first visit to her gravesite, I had been coming here every week and picking up a special order.

The bells jingled as I walked in. The tinkling of the metal on the glass had a magical sound, and I felt the grimace on my face loosen for just a moment.

“Officer O’Reilly, I was just thinking about you,” the shop owner called out as she popped her head around the corner from the back room.

“Karen, I keep telling you to call me Mitch,” I smiled as I walked to the counter. When I had come in here months ago and asked if she carried the spotted toad lily, she had looked at me with evident surprise on her face.

Surprise filled her features when she asked why I wanted this particular flower, and I quickly explained it was my friend’s favorite. I had learned that about Corey during our twenty-question games on our in-car computers while we worked.

Tears misted in her eyes, and a small smile had crossed her lips when she’d mentioned there was only one other person who used to ask for those flowers and she had never hoped to have the occasion to order them again.

Since that day, she had made sure to get a small fresh supply each week for me. We never talked about where the flowers went or why, but she knew that I needed them to be gravesite ready without all the tissue paper and ribbons.

“I know, I know, but I have a hard time not respecting an officer of the law.” She laughed as she walked to the cooler on the side of the shop. My arrangement lay on the top shelf, as always.

“I appreciate that, but I’m not on duty, so please just call me Mitch.”

She nodded and laid the flowers on the counter. This week they were a little more purple with darker spots on the petals than normal. I reached out and gently felt the soft flower.

“I love the color of these Tricyrtis this week! The color is so rich-looking.” Karen was always excited about her flowers.

“Yes, they are.” I handed her the cash, the same amount each week, and picked up the flowers. “Thanks, Karen.”

Her smile was hearty, “No problem, Mitch. I’ll see you next week.”

“See you next week,” I called over my shoulder as I reached for the door handle.

Outside, I opened up one of my hard plastic saddlebags and slipped the delicate flowers into the space. I took care to close the lid so it would not pinch the flowers.

The ride to the cemetery was quick. I no longer stopped at the gate and braced myself. Now I roared right toward the lane that led to her resting place.

On the hill, her memorial stone stood proud in the late afternoon sun. Flowers in hand, I made my way to her plot.

The flowers from the week before had already been removed. The caretakers were now familiar with my schedule, they made sure the sad and wilted ones were gone when I came by with the next batch.

“Hi, Corey, how are you?” I stood in front of her stone, staring at it like I expected an answer. I sighed and set the flowers down gently at the base when I felt no response.

Dropping down to the grass, I sat cross-legged and pulled at some of the dark green blades.

“It’s been ninety-eight days now. Ninety-eight days, man, I can’t believe that.” I shook my head and ripped up a handful of grass. I allowed the pieces to fall through my fingers back to the ground.

“I thought that it might start to get easier now, ya know? You’ve been gone for three months,” I raised my knees up and wrapped my arms gently around them, “three long months.”

“I can’t seem to let it all go. Every day I remember what happened. I see you lying on the ground, not moving, and it’s like it is happening all over again.” I lifted my face to the sky. Soft, light, fluffy clouds moved slowly over the blue above me.

“I miss you, Corey. I don’t know how to stop thinking about it. It consumes me. I can’t even seem to do my job these days.” I studied her headstone quietly for a moment.

“And that prick, Joe, do you know that he tried to get me to split some money he found on a dope dealer the other day? What a freaking idiot he is. We arrest this guy with a few baggies of crack on him, and he got a little over four hundred dollars from his pocket. He wanted to peel off two hundred and split it with me, said no one would ever know.” I shook my head.

“I don’t understand him these days.” I watched a vehicle pull along the lane near my motorcycle and turn the corner down another lane.

“Hell, I don’t even understand myself,” I mumbled. “I mean, I almost took the money. I’m not like that, you know that. It’s just—” I closed my eyes, “it’s just that I don’t seem to care—about anything.” I paused, thinking for a moment. “Maybe if I knew you were alright, maybe I could move forward.” I took a deep breath, slowly letting it back out. “I doubt it. I don’t think I will ever be able to move forward.”

I sat thinking for a few more minutes. I could only feel close to her beside her grave. Sadly, a cold marble stone was the warmest part of my week.

When I stood up, I kissed my fingers and laid them on the stone. “I miss you.”

When no feelings or words reached my soul, I lifted my hand, lowered my head, and turned away.

~ Brock ~

The steam from my coffee cup reached my nose, and I inhaled the strong rich aroma. I took a sip, but it tasted bitter on my tongue. I held my cup out and poured it over my balcony to the ground far below.

I looked up, not to the sky but to the ceiling above me, the one where Corey’s balcony blocked the sight of the sky directly above my head.

Of all the stupid things to say. I sighed and was about to go back inside when a figure running along the sand caught my eye: Coralenna.

I leaned my elbows on the railing, watching her as she dashed along the hard-packed sand next to the shore. Her arms were pumping hard, her legs strong and fast. She looked like she was trying to run from something. Was she running from me?

The urge to phase down and run beside her grew strong, but I resisted it. I needed to give her space. She would not want to see me right now. I knew that.

I turned back to my quarters, dropped off my coffee mug on the black granite countertop, and phased to David’s quarters.

He was standing at the stove, stirring eggs. “Morning, Brock,” he said without turning around.

I grunted and pulled out a stool.

“So how did that work out for you? Bringing Coralenna here, I mean.” His left eyebrow quirked up.

“What do you think?” I picked up a paper napkin and began folding it into triangles.

David laughed and dumped his eggs onto a plate. I heard the toaster pop and watched him reach for his toast.

Once he was seated, he blew on his eggs and took a big bite. “I imagine she was rather embarrassed and surprised.”

I snorted, “You could say that.” I tossed the napkin to the counter and leaned back.

“So did it hurt or help? Did you guys connect?” He slurped some coffee from a mug that was about half full.

“I don’t think it helped. Look, I need a favor.” I tapped the fingers of my left hand on the counter.

He stopped chewing and raised both eyebrows. “Yeah?”

I avoided his face and turned my attention to my hand, I stopped my fingers from tapping. “I need you to hang with her for a while, help her train.”

“That’s your job.” He started chewing again and scooped up another bite.

“Come on, David. She doesn’t want to see me right now. I just need—” I shook my head.

“What? You just need what?”

I watched him take a chunk out of his toast and chew.

“I just need help. It seems like when I get around her, I just say the wrong things.”

“The big old Brock needs help!” he laughed around the food in his mouth. “That’s one for the books.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin I had tossed down.

I climbed off the stool and walked to his kitchen window. I watched someone cutting some fresh flowers out in the garden.

I ignored his comment. “So will you?”

The scrape of his fork on his plate made the hair on my neck stand up for a second.

“Yeah, I’ll help, but not for you. I’ll do it for her.”

I nodded, not sure if he saw it or not. “Thanks,” I muttered before I phased down to the world below to busy myself with my charges.

~ Corey ~

The sand felt good under my toes. The sun warmed me from the outside, and the energy I burned warmed me from the inside.

While the sleep had been restful, I still woke up feeling agitated. I never imagined that when I died I would feel anything but peace, but I felt more stressed these days than during my life.

I felt his presence as he landed beside me, quickly dropping into my pace. I glanced at him and nodded. My breathing was too heavy and quick for me to speak.

David’s smile was fresh. The memory of the sounds I’d heard on his balcony the evening before flushed my face, and I pushed just a little bit harder.

We ran side by side, not saying anything for a good fifteen minutes. Finally, he slowed a bit, “Can we slow down? I’m getting a cramp. I just ate.”

We slowed to a walk. The sound of the water rushing up on the shore matched our heavy breathing for a few moments. His hand cradled the side of his waist.

“So what are you running from today?”

I snapped my head to the side, narrowing my gaze at him.

“Why do you think I am running from something?”

His smile grew, “You forget I have followed your training for several years. You only run when you are trying to get away from something.”

“Yeah, well you’re wrong. I woke up with a lot of energy. I just wanted to work some of it out.” I wiped a few drops of sweat from the side of my face. “Why are you here?”

“What? You don’t like the company?” He acted hurt, placing his hand over his heart.

I chuckled quietly, “No, I don’t mind your company. I’m just wondering if Brock sent you to check on me.” I glanced his way and saw him direct his attention out over the water.

“He had other things to do. He asked if I would help you train for a while.”

I muttered under my breath, “Yeah, I bet.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” He contemplated me for a moment, “He thought you might want a break from him.”

I stood beside him and shrugged, “Yeah, sure. Sure I need a break from him.” Why did those words taste sour in my mouth?