Midsummer Sweetheart (31 page)

“I love you too, Erik.”

His eyes closed against the burn of tears, overcome by requited love, and he reached for her, pulling her into his arms, his beating heart brimming, abounding, replete.

CHAPTER 18

Leaving Katrin at her apartment to shower and tidy up, Erik turned out of her driveway to drive back up to the Triple Peak. Katrin had asked that he say good-bye to his father and brothers for her. They’d be off to an early start to make it back to Gardiner by lunchtime. He’d return to her as soon as he’d made his farewells, and promised to bring back some Swedish pastries for her breakfast too. The sun was shining and the sky was bright blue, like Katrin’s eyes.

Erik was happy. He was relieved to know what really happened between his parents, and he found himself re-writing their history in his head, correcting misconceptions and understanding them more fully. He was relieved to be free, once again, to love and admire his Pappa without reserve. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with his mother’s dying request, but it would take time for him to process the entire story, and a lifetime of living and loving to truly understand it. For now he was just relieved that his father was recovered to him.

He’d made love to Katrin one last time before he got dressed to go, reveling in the freedom of telling her he loved her over and over again, and hearing the same words on her lips, like a mantra, a prayer. How he had ever lived, breathed, eaten, slept…without her in his life was a mystery.

The thought of being apart now plagued him, as commitment once had. Katrin seemed to know it was bothering him. Before he left her, she had cupped his face and held his eyes, repeating her words from last night, “We’ll figure it out, love. I promise.”

Even with her reassurance, he felt an urgency to settle “what happens next” before they returned north this evening, and it was bewildering, unfamiliar terrain for Erik, who had never wanted “next” in his entire life. He assessed the options, and there were no great ones presenting themselves. Living in her tiny, shared apartment was not a good solution. For one, they’d have no privacy, and moreover, they’d have no room. But, he also didn’t like the idea of her sharing his apartment in Kalispell, which would mean her driving back and forth to Skidoo Bay three hours every day, and living in an unfamiliar place without any friends, which bothered him in light of the irregular hours he often had to work during the week.

We’ll figure it out
. He thought of her face, heard her voice telling him that she loved him, and a peace came over him. Of course they would figure things out. They loved each other, and they’d find a way. He simply had to trust that, believe in it. The hard part was over.

With a full heart, he stepped on the gas, anxious to say good-bye to his family so he could return to his love.

***

Katrin pulled on her favorite jeans and a pink short-sleeved polo shirt, inspecting herself in the mirror and slipping her phone into her back pocket. Her wet hair was piled on her head, wrapped in a towel that looked like a turban, and her feet were bare. She felt like she should look different, changed somehow after sleeping with Erik, telling him she loved him, hearing that he loved her back. But it felt even more right that she still looked like herself. The only thing that had changed was her heart, and maybe her smile. Yes, she thought, smiling at herself in the mirror, her smile was definitely different. Her smile was in love.

She pulled the towel off her head, drying the ends of her hair, then hung it on the back of the bathroom door and took out her hair dryer. Right before she plugged it in, she heard a light tapping at her door.

Erik…are you back for one more kiss?

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket as she crossed her apartment and she reached for it, distractedly, as she opened the door.

Ing.
She pressed talk on her phone, looking up smiling, ready for one more kiss.

She dropped the phone.

It wasn’t Erik at her door.

***

Erik’s phone buzzed beside him, and he glanced down to see who was calling.
Hmm. Kristian.
He pressed the Bluetooth button in his car.

“Hello?”

“ERIK!”

“Kristian?”

“Erik, where are you? Where’s Katrin?” Kristian’s voice was urgent, frantic.

“I’m headed up to the Triple Peak. She’s at her place. What’s going on?”

“Is she alone?”

“Y-Yeah.” He could hear the panic in Kristian’s voice, too, and it made his blood run cold.

“Turn around. Turn around now and go back to her place, Erik. NOW!”

Without thinking, Erik jerked the wheel to the left and flipped his car around, almost colliding with oncoming traffic, as he pointed himself back south toward Choteau.

“Kristian, what is going on?”

“Stay calm, Erik, okay? You’ve got to get there in one piece. Just…go to her place.”

“Tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Ingrid got a call a few minutes ago from Wade’s parents. He left the facility at some point this morning. He wasn’t in his room this morning and they searched everywhere for him. Finally they called his parents to see if he had shown up there. He hadn’t. Mrs. Doyle called Ingrid, and Ingrid immediately called Kat. Kat’s phone answered the call, but then she heard a loud noise, and the phone went dead. You’ve got to get back there. We called the police, but they’re seven minutes out. How about you?”

“I don’t know. Five minutes maybe. I just left her.” Erik slammed on the gas again, thinking of his keyed car, the white roses in Skidoo, the pile of bottles in Katrin’s backyard. She was in danger, and he loved her, which made him terrified.

“I’m going to hang up now and get in the car. I’m on my way. Erik?”

“Yeah?”

“Do
whatever
it takes.”

“You know I will.”

***

Wade snatched up her phone and threw it against the wall, smashing it, and Katrin raced to the kitchen, yanked the butcher knife from the block just as he caught her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides. He shoved her against the counter, slamming her arm into the sharp edge of the counter over and over. Pain shot up into her shoulder and the knife clattered to the floor. He released her and leaned down to pick it up.

Up to now, Katrin had reacted to Wade, not thinking, not feeling anything other than the visceral scramble to find a weapon and protect herself. With the weapon now in Wade’s hand, a deep, nightmarish terror started unraveling inside of her. Her chest heaved up and down with the force of her breathing, and the relentless pain her arm was an agony, making her feel dizzy.

Katrin faced Wade, trapped between him and the counter, cradling her arm. “Wade, I’m hurt. I think you broke my arm.”

“YOU’RE HURT?” He slashed at the air in front of her to emphasize his words. “I came here with FLOWERS for you, for my fiancée, for my girlfriend, and you tried to get a KNIFE, you BITCH!”

“Wade.” She spoke slowly, gently, her heart pounding uncomfortably as she tried to remain calm. “You hurt my arm. I need to go to the hospital, Wade. I think it’s broken.”

“My heart is broken, whore,” he whispered, looking dazed.

Katrin clenched her teeth at the pain shooting up and down her arm. Her fingers were as cold as ice.

She gathered her thoughts and looked at Wade, trying to determine if he was drunk or sober. He wasn’t slurring his words, and his movements were crisper than they would be if he were drunk. But he seemed unfamiliar to her: unpredictable, distracted, paranoid. He lowered the knife, and Katrin’s eyes followed it to where it hung, still a threat, by his side.

She tried to steady her breathing so that her voice would sound measured as she carefully chose her words. “Wade,” she started softly, “Why don’t we talk? W-we could sit down and—”

His eyes blazed. “TALK?”

Katrin cringed, shrinking back toward the counter, covering her injured arm with her good one. Wade lunged at her and grabbed a handful of her wet hair, winding it once around his hand then yanking roughly.

Katrin cried out in shock and pain. He pulled out one of her kitchen chairs and clumsily pushed her into it.

She started crying then, bending her head forward, filled with fear and anguish.

He stood over her, gesturing with the knife again, once almost grazing her nose with the tip. “Okay, talk. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Talk, SLUT! Tell me why my fiancée is SCREWING A POLICE OFFICER!”

Suddenly, his face was wiped of fury, and he looked around her apartment as if he had forgotten something. His gaze stopped at the bouquet of white roses that he’d dropped on the floor.

Wade touched her chin with the tip of the knife, jabbing once meaningfully. “Don’t move, Kitten.”

Katrin jerked and winced. She could feel the warm ooze of blood seep out on her chin. Her arm was either broken or the bone was severely bruised. She kept it in her lap, protected by her good arm, but the pain was excruciating and she wasn’t adjusting to it. She was frantically trying to figure out what to do while his back was turned. She couldn’t escape him; he was much bigger and armed.

Maybe the rehab center knew he had escaped. Maybe someone was coming.
If not…oh my God, if not…

He knelt before her, offering her the wilted bouquet, which she accepted with the trembling hand of her good arm.

“These were for you. For my love. For my little wife at Midsummer. I knew you’d come home.”

Tears coursed down her face, but she tried not to make a sound.
Please help. Someone please help
.

“Did you think you could leave me, you WHORE? DID YOU THINK YOU COULD LEAVE ME FOR THAT BLOND BASTARD?”

He stood up quickly, face furious, and drew back his hand. When it made contact with her face, she screamed in pain as her head snapped back from the force of the blow.

She leaned forward, sobbing, shoulders shaking. “S-Stop, Wade. P-p-please stop.”

“Please stop, Wade…WHAT ELSE?”

Frantically she tried to think of what he wanted her to say. “Please stop, Wade. I’ve been very bad. I-I’ve hurt you and I’m so sorry. We can be together now, Wade. Now I see how much you love me.”

“When I saw you kissing him at Flathead, I wanted to die.” Wade knelt on the floor beside her and put his head in her lap, on top of her injured arm, making her gasp from the sharp, new wave of pain. He stroked her thigh beside his head, his hand moving higher and higher. A sick feeling made her stomach flip over.
Oh, no, Wade. No. Not that.

He leaned back, smiling up at her. “Remember that night on the football field? Remember what we did? How good I made you feel?”

She tried not to grimace with the force of her revulsion. She swallowed to keep from heaving, and nodded at him. “I-I remember. But, Wade, we have to…to take it slow…to get to know each other again. It’s been—”

“GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER? You’re PRACTICALLY my WIFE! WHORE!”

He stood up and she didn’t have time to shield her face before the back of his hand smacked her face again at full force. When Katrin’s neck snapped back this time, she didn’t lean forward again. She just let her neck loll back.

Her lip must have split because she tasted blood in her mouth, warm and metallic. She tried to adjust to and accept the burning pain in the side of her face. She could see the blue sky out the kitchen window. The bright sun. It made her think of yesterday, of Erik.
Erik.

“You thought you could leave ME? Bitch sister-in-law had me arrested and sent to rehab while you’re screwing that blond idiot up north? I brought you flowers. I waited for you all day, AND THEN HE SHOWS UP AND I HAVE TO LEAVE! I. LOVE. YOU. How long were you cheating on me? How LONG? You’re going to pay—”

She knew she couldn’t overpower him, not without a weapon, probably not with one. He ranted and raved about her infidelity, waving the knife around, but Katrin stopped listening, tears snaking down her cheeks. She leaned her head forward slowly, feeling her right eye swelling, and closed her eyes, finally bending her head forward, defeated.

No one is coming.
No one is coming to save you.

Erik.
She pictured Erik’s face in her mind and focused on it as hard as she could. She had found the love of her life, but she would never see him again. Wade would surely kill her, but when he did, she thought with the tiniest shred of defiance, she would die thinking of Erik. She searched her mind for Erik’s voice, his beloved voice, telling her that he loved her, telling her that he never wanted to wake up without her again
.

Her chest rose and fell as tears streamed down her face in silent rivulets, mixing with blood, plopping in garish red drops on her once pristine, pink polo shirt. She watched them fall, feeling herself giving up.

At first she thought it was in her mind. Then she realized that through a fog of pain and self-imposed mental escape, she heard Erik scream her name and she opened her swollen eyes to see Wade being jerked backward by an almost inhuman force. One second he was standing in front of her, knife raised, the next he wasn’t.

She turned her head, slowly, painfully, to see Wade stagger to his feet in her living room and lunge toward Erik with the knife high. Erik lowered his head and barreled into Wade’s chest like a bull, knocking him into the wall by her sofa.

The knife clattered to the ground and Erik leaned back to right himself, snarling at Wade. His hand shot to Wade’s neck, holding him against the wall. Veins bulged in Erik’s arm and neck as he choked the life out of Wade Doyle. Even through puffy, swelling eyes, Katrin could see the white knuckles of Erik’s hand, the terror on Wade’s face.

“STOP!” she screamed from her chair, so weak and light-headed she was barely able to stand up. “Erik, STOP!”

Erik turned to her, as if seeing her for the first time. His face contorted and he loosened his grip on Wade’s neck.

“Aw, Kat,” Erik said, his voice raw and breaking. From the horror on his face Katrin realized how bad she must look.

Wade pushed forward, and as Erik stumbled back, Wade leaned down to grab the knife. Katrin screamed, “ERIK, WATCH OUT!”