Entangled Summer (18 page)

Darcy stood in the doorway, very much alive, wearing a brown leather trench coat, black riding boots, a top hat and holding a sword. He wore his eighteenth century garb eloquently, and yet his attire didn't mask his malicious intentions.

“Darcy?” I sucked in a gasp as my stomach hollowed.

He stepped into the cabin. Eying us both speculatively.

“I have been waiting an eternity to be with you and I find you here, embracing another,” he hissed. “Do not try to deny it. I was watching you through the window. Such a wanton display. It sickens me to think you could allow this man to touch you.”

Troy grabbed me and pulled me behind him, but I moved around him, entranced. This could not be real. Pinching myself to see if I was dreaming wasn’t necessary. No, the blade he was waving in our direction was proof enough.

His gaze flicked over me coldly. “I gave you my life. And this...
This
is how you repay my unwavering loyalty? By your infidelity with this lecherous cretin. I will not stand for it.”

Troy was at my side, his glaring gaze aimed at Darcy. “Back up,” he said, his voice low. Dangerous. “Drop the sword and no one gets hurt man.”

My hand trembled as I watched him take another measured step toward us. A month ago, I would have thought I’d slipped over the edge of madness and into the abyss of insanity. But this was too real to be a dream. And now, all I could think was I can’t let Troy get hurt. Not because of something... some
one
I’d created and let into our world.

Darcy’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, as his eyes narrowed with malice.

Troy stepped in front of me. “There is only one of two ways this can go.” he said. “Drop the sword and go back to the hell you came from. Or touch her. And die.”

Darcy smirked. “Impressive talk for a man armed with no more than sharp words and false bravado.” He brandished his sword, which glinted in the moonlight pouring through the window. “I will take this blade and run you through. Then we shall see which way this will go.”

Troy shook his head once, and choked a dark humorless laugh. “You’ll have to go through me to get to her,” he said. With one hand he urged me to move further away from them, and with the other he coaxed Darcy. “Come at me dream boy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I covered my mouth with trembling hands. This was insane. A duel to the death, might work in a Jane Austin novel, but Troy was unarmed, and Darcy was out for blood. I had to do something. Damsel in distress was never my thing. I darted around the counter into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, the biggest we had.

“Troy, here.” I handed it to him, just as Darcy swung at him. The blade lashed at his side, slicing into his flesh. I screamed as a stain of blood spread across his white shirt.

Troy winced, clutching his side for a moment, then he threw the knife across the room.

My eyes bulged. “What are you doing?” I ran to him, but he pushed me away.

“Nora, stay back.” He eyed Darcy evenly. “A real man would use his hands to settle a fight. The honorable way.”

I waited to see if Darcy would take the challenge and relinquish his sword. He was from another era, a time where things like honor mattered.

“I am not your equal. I am here to finish this.” He lunged at Troy, but he slid out of the way, and in some crazy awesome inexplicable martial arts move, he wrestled Darcy into a submissive position. Before I knew what was happening, he had Darcy on his knees, his own blade pressed to his throat.

My hands flew up over my face. Oh my god. Was he going to kill him? He could bleed, which meant he could die. Right? I shook my hands gasping for a breath.

Noises outside the door caught my attention. The sounds of laughter grew louder.
Kenzie
. My gaze flew to the door just as my startled best friend and her boyfriend walked in.

Steve instantly misread the situation—understandably after his run in with Troy the other night. He lunged at Troy, bowling into him as I screamed “no”. But it was too late. He’d freed Darcy, who’d retrieved his sword.

“Thank you good man,” he said to Steve, and then he slammed his fist into his jaw with one hand. Steve’s body fell to the flood. Darcy swung around and hit Troy in the head with the dull edge of his sword, once, then again, knocking him out. Both of them were unconscious.

“Kenzie run,” I screamed to her. She did.

I picked up the knife, and circled around him. “Darcy, you don’t want to do this. You should just leave, now, while you have the chance. My voice was clipped, direct, and strong. Stronger than I felt inside.

His lips twisted in a sneer. “I will not leave without you Nora. You called upon me to save you. And that is what I’m here to do. We belong together.”

“No. We don’t. Not anymore.” We moved in tandem, keeping the same distance between us, in our dance of cat and terrified mouse.

“You will see, it is a much better life I can provide for you there.” He insisted, pasting on a dark smile. ”There I can show my love for you eternally.”

My skin prickled with fear. “You say you love me, if you mean it, you’ll let me go,” I said as steadily as I could. But it was impossible to keep my voice and my hand from shaking.

Darcy gave a sympathetic look. “Look at us my love. Look what this world has reduced us to. We are not enemies. We are eternal lovers. Twin flames. We belong to one another. Please, do not let them brainwash you this way.”

My anger ignited, burning away my fear. “
You’re
the one who’s been brainwashing me. I believed you were real. That you were as close to real love as I dared to get. But now I know love doesn’t have to be destructive. You were no more than a fantasy. And it is so over.” I backed up. “Now get the hell out of my life.”

“Darcy cocked his head with a patronizing grin. If you could only see how adorable your tantrums are. Like a little girl who’s dropped her ice cream. I hope our daughter one day has your fiery spirit my darling.”

“Don’t call me that.” Picking up Kenzie’s brass lamp, I hurled it at his head. “Go to hell.” I hollered.

It hit his arm as he blocked it, sending it clamoring to the floor in a shower of sparks.

“If I am to leave, it will be to hell, but I promise, I will take you there with me.” With a guttural sound he darted toward me.

I turned to run, but tripped over the lamp chord and fell. The knife slipped from my hand and skidded across the hardwood.

Darcy chuckled. “Foolish girl.” In a flash he straddled my body, the tip of his sword pointed at my throat. “I gave you my heart, and you cut it out,” he growled. “Do you know what that feels like?”

He traced the tip over my chest, close to my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut as the cold pressed against my skin, until it cut through. Pain prickled across my chest. This was it. The part of my dreams that Grace said I never let myself see. Liquid cold filled my limbs, numbing the panic and fear. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid. Maybe death wasn’t so bad. I wondered absently what would happen to Granddad when I was dead. Would he remain blissfully unaware? Would the grief and sadness take what little life he had left?

Darcy’s eyes darkened to coal, and his face contorted with rage. “I have dined on disaster more than once in this life. I do not care to ever do it again. You were the key to unlocking that, now you have ripped from me the only good that remained. And I will not rest until I've tasted your terror. Felt your fear. And held your beating heart in my hands. One way or another Nora, you will belong to me again. Even if it must be in pieces.”

He tossed his sword aside and knelt down over me. I thrashed under, kicking and clawing at his arms.

Cold hands closed around my throat, tighter and tighter until there was nothing but blurry darkness and heated words uttered in the silence.

Voices filtered through—Darcy’s, but also Troy’s.

“I am your threat. Focus here. Right here. —Is she alive? And so help me the answer better be yes. Because if it’s not. I will send you to hell. Piece by broken piece. Now I’ll tell you again, take your hands off of her.”

“Save your words.” Darcy’s voice hissed. “I will not heed your empty threats. I am not afraid of you, but you should fear me.”

“I’m going to end you. I didn’t want to, for her sake. But you leave me no choice.”

The hands lifted from my throat. Air rushed in, filling my empty lungs and I gasped greedy breaths. Pain pulsed inside of me. Not just physical pain, but searing emotional pain. I hated Darcy for it. For holding me a prisoner in my own mind.

A sickening sound, like a punctured tire filled my ears... then an agonized moan, wheezing for breath.

My eyes struggled open as Darcy’s limp body fell toward me in slow motion. I rolled onto my side, trying to get away, but he landed hard in my lap. Blood pooling on his shirt grew slowly larger. His eyes glazed over, a trickle of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

I’d lived this exact scene countless times but it still terrified me. My whole body trembled as stared down at him, watching the life seep from his eyes, his face growing paler by the second.

I looked up at Troy, standing behind where Darcy had stood. The kitchen knife hanging by his side, dripped with fresh blood. I was going to be sick.

Darcy’s body convulsed, blood vessels ruptured in his bulging milky eyes. His hand gripped mine and I didn’t pull away.

“I gave you everything Nora,” he gasped. “I gave you— my—soul.” It was the last word he whispered, before his hand fell away from mine and his eyes slipped closed.

Shaking uncontrollably, my hand flew over my mouth to cut off my scream. But I was too numb to scream. Too numb to move.

Sweat trickled down my back and I sat on the floor gasping shallow breaths.

Grace burst in the open doorway with Kenzie on her heels. She paused, looking from me on the floor cradling Darcy’s lifeless body in my lap, then to Troy and then to Steve, who was just starting to rouse. Kenzie knelt next to him and pressed her hand to the gash on his forehead.

Troy lifted me out from under Darcy, letting his body roll onto the floor with a hollow thud. Then he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. With only his strong safe embrace keeping me from collapsing in a fit of hysteria.

Grace lifted Darcy’s limp wrist, feeling for a pulse. I didn’t need to see her expression to know she would not find one. He was gone. My dream had ended a long time ago—and now, this nightmare was finally over.

I spent the night at Troy’s place, awake, with Darcy on my mind. I couldn't shut off the racing thoughts. How my messed-up childhood caused me to dream him into existence, and how letting go of the past and my fears led to his destruction.

I curled up next to his Troy’s side.

“You need anything?” he murmured against the top of my head.

“I’m fine,” I answered. “My grandfather always said you mustn't allow fear to take hold. That it will take root in your subconscious personifying itself—and a person is much harder to manage than an emotion. I had no idea what he meant by that until now. A little too late.” Darcy was my fear personified.

“Nora—” Troy said, holding me next to me. His face was pale, and his voice filled with concern.

I'm fine. Really. I'm not hurt. How are you?
There was so much I wanted to say. But all that came out was "Thank you, for breaking your promise."

He laughed weakly. “You’re welcome,” he said, then touched his lips to mine. I curled my limp fingers into his shirt and pulled him closer.

I know he was worried about me. I didn’t know how to explain that my tears weren’t over losing Darcy, but losing a part of me. I wasn’t sorry he was gone, and that startled me a little. Before things got bat-crazy, he was my safe place. But I had Troy. He was safer and realer than Darcy would ever be. And while part of me feared clinging on to anything too tightly, the larger part of me held onto him. With all my strength. It was Troy’s fingers, not Darcy’s, that slowly laced through my hair until I eventually fell asleep.

***

A week passed by, and I welcomed the opportunity to immerse myself in work. Camp bustled with activity as every discipline was in full swing.

I stirred the next morning in Troy’s bed, under a tangle of crisp white linen. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I woke up with a different name on my tongue. Troy.

We’d planned to sleep under the stars, but the rain had other ideas. Now, in the remnants of last evening’s showers, the gray skies swaddled us in clouds of sadness. What was it about rainy days, they always seemed to hold the promise of bad news. We’d had more than enough for one summer, and now I was finally free. I let myself relax a little as I poured some coffee.

After showering I padded around the living room, wrapped in his white terry robe and watched the gray sky over the gray lake. Dismal and yet beautiful. I heard his phone ring, a brief conversation, followed by his fist slamming into something hard. That’s when the rain started falling again, right on cue.

Bad news.

Troy stormed into the room pausing to drink in the sight of me wrapped in his bathrobe and not much else. The effect was short lived. He breezed past me, out onto the deck. He paced. And paced. And paced. Cagey reckless steps, a wild fierceness lighting his eyes. It reminded me of the look he had right before he punched Steve in the face.

I stepped outside after him. Rain quickly soaked my hair and robe. It splashed at my feet as I waited for him to talk. “What’s wrong?” It was far too early for more bad news.

He stopped in front of me, his height shielding me from the rain. I searched his face. His hair was soaked matted in thick dark waves. The drops slid down his face, over his beautifully carved lips, down his shirt.

I reached up to wipe them from his eyes. “Hey. It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, we can handle it.” Stretching up on my toes, I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

When he pulled away, the most ragged torment contorted his beautiful face. He took a step back.

“Just talk to me.” The familiar knots forming in my stomach tightened with his silence.

Rain fell harder, louder, in heavy sheets. He made no move to go back inside, so neither did I.

He looked at me, water streaming down his face. “It’s that... bastard Steve.” He ground out.

I could hear the expletives he didn’t add.

Troy finally had enough of the rain, because he held the door open for me and we returned to the kitchen. Neither one of us was concerned with the puddles we were dripping on the floor. I was only concerned about him.

“What
about
Steve?” The guy was trouble, but Grace had done a pretty good job covering up what had happened. Between her hypnotic powers of persuasion and a little neural linguistic programming, aka brainwashing, he believed the story we fed him, and erased Darcy from his memory.

Troy’s jaw twitched and his hands clenched at his sides, ready to hit something else. “He went to the board, and, because of the law suit, he managed to convince them there was something inappropriate going on between you and me.” He swore under his breath. “At least he doesn’t remember the rest of what went down.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “He’s such an ass.” Even Kenzie knew that now. I crossed my arms in front of me as I walked toward him. “Well, so what—they don’t have any real authority over you, do they?”

“Nora...,” he breathed a heavy sigh and looked briefly down at the floor, “they called for your resignation,” he said. “Mine as well.”

My arms fell to my sides. “They can’t
make
you resign, you own the place.”

“I do. But they can force me not to teach here. They’re trying to avoid a scandal. If it wasn’t for Steve’s uncle being on the board he’d have been out a long time ago.” He shoved back the wet hair on his forehead. “But when I insisted you stay on until the end, they said that they’d pay you for your time served, but that legally they don’t owe you any more since you’re in breach of your contract. We both are. I told him what I thought of that, and the SOB threated that I’d lose everything.” He laughed and it sounded strangled and dark. “He had the nerve to ask me if one girl was worth it.”

I nodded, as the weight of his words settled like cement in my stomach. A massive lump lodged itself in the center of my throat. My eyes seared with anger and hurt. I felt his pain, the guilt over being responsible for him getting ousted from a job in his own company. But another thought, a selfish thought, crept in. This meant no money. There’d be enough for some of Granddad’s bills but not to get him into a facility. And not enough for college. So much for that dream. I decided in that moment it was better not to have them. They’d been nothing but disappointing lately.

“I see. Well, I’m sure you did all you could.” I turned away from him, he’d seen me cry enough over the past few weeks. No time for tears anyway, I needed an exit strategy and a new plan. In a little while I’d be literally homeless. Not exactly the scenario I was planning.

“There’s something more,” he said, taking my arm to make me face him again. “I told them where they could shove their contract. I don’t need to teach here. The school will run just fine without me. Anyway, I’d rather move in with this gorgeous freshman girl who got a sculpting scholarship. Who knows, maybe I’ll teach college level for a while.”

I studied him through confused watery eyes. “Troy, without the rest of the money, there’s not going to be any college.”

“One more thing,” he said, a smile growing on the corners of his mouth. “You grandfather’s medical bills, have been paid. Grace received the call from the hospital last week and I wanted to tell you but—”

“But we were busy trying not to get ourselves killed.” I nodded. “Who paid the bills Troy?” I was already preparing to insist I couldn’t accept that kind of money from him. I’d find a way to figure things out. I always did.

He shrugged. “Angel donor I hear. He’s also going to be moved the state of the art facility, a mile from the townhouse I bought next to the campus.

I stared at him, barely even registering his words. “I don’t understand...”

“Understand this. I love you.” He stroked my face. “And I would do anything, and I mean anything, to see even the hint of joy on your beautiful face again.”

There were no words for the depth of what I felt for him. So instead of uttering something lame like thank you, which wouldn’t even touch the amount of gratitude I had for him, I crushed my lips against his, until neither one of us could breathe.