Until I Die Again [On The Way To Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) (7 page)

Chris felt like dropping over the balcony. In five minutes, she had gone from confusion, amusement, elation, anger, and finally regret. She couldn’t watch his angry strokes anymore or think about the expression on his face when he’d raced up the stairs to help her. With her face turned away from the pool, she flew down the stairs and out toward the grounds beyond. Time alone was what she needed. Desperately.

She could see the faraway wall that surrounded the property. That’s where she wanted to be, far away. Maybe she’d climb up and sit on top of that wall. She kept walking, her arms swinging wildly with each step. After several minutes, her steam ran out and she stopped and looked around. Orange trees dotted the lawn, their tiny white blossoms wavering in the breeze. She inhaled their fragrance, remembering a tiny bottle of orange blossom perfume she’d bought on a family vacation to Florida many years ago. It had come in a half shell with a silk blossom, and she’d worn the perfume all year to remember sunny days and white powder beaches.

Just when solitude soaked up her anger and frustration with Jamie, two arms wrapped around her and pulled her into an embrace.

She started to scream and had to pull back the sound at the sight of Mick from the corner of her eye.

“Why haven’t you called me?” He nuzzled her shoulder and mumbled, “You know how I get when you don’t call.”

She pulled away from him, leaving him staring at her in starry wonderment.

“Hallie, for God’s sake, don’t push me away, not after what you did to me at the hospital.”

The spark of wildness in his eyes gave her the willies. She looked toward the house, gauging screaming distance. Too far away.

Stay calm, in control.
“I didn’t do anything to you at the hospital.”

He gave the sky an agonized look, and his voice went a pitch higher. “Didn’t do anything?” And louder. “Didn’t do anything. You chose him over me.” Then he looked back at her. “You chose to stay with that bastard rather than let me take care of you.”

He moved toward her, and she backed up until prickly branches jabbed her. “Mick, he’s my husband. It wouldn’t look right if I…”

He laughed bitterly. “When have you cared how anything looked? All I wanted to do was take care of you, darling, just like I’ve always wanted to do.” He touched her cheek, and she tried to keep from shrinking away from him. “I was so happy you were alive, pulled from the dredges of death, and then you crushed me. Like a bug.” In demonstration, he placed two fingers on either side of a leaf and squashed the little black beetle that was crawling on it. She flinched at the crunching sound.

“I—I’m sorry.”

He smiled in a patronizing way. “Then give me a hug. I’ve missed you.”

She moved slowly toward him, and he nearly fractured her with his powerful arms.

“You feel so
good
.” He leaned his head away to look at her while still encasing her in his arms. Then he reached up and started fiddling with her hair. “You are so beautiful. Being with you makes me feel like a giant. No one thought I could make someone like you my wife, but I proved them wrong. They thought I was a loser, but you’re going to be my wife. And we’re going to be rich!”

He squeezed her hard again, and she gasped for breath. She felt like poor Bugs Bunny in the grip of the big dog with the dopey voice who wants his own bunny rabbit. “I’m gonna love her, and squeeze her and…”

“Hallie, why aren’t you talking to me?” he asked suddenly, holding her away.

“Because I can’t breathe!” She shook herself loose.

He looked at her, cocking his head to an angle. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I would never hurt you on purpose.” Then his smile returned. “Is your memory returning?”

She grabbed at the excuse. “No. That’s why I’m staying here until it returns enough for me to move on with my life.”

“You don’t have to remember how much you love me. Come with me, and you’ll feel it all over again.”

Panic pressed in around her. “I can’t.”

Once again, his hands gripped her shoulders. All the gooeyness hardened, and his gaze drilled into hers. “You remember where you put the Manderlay, don’t you? You wouldn’t forget anything as important as that.”

Her head spun at how fast his moods changed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The Manderlay, the alexandrite! Dammit, why wouldn’t you tell me where you hid it? You always played games like that, so secretive and coy.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe you weren’t playing at all. Maybe you faked this whole stroke thing to blow me off and keep the Manderlay to yourself. Tell me you wouldn’t do that.” His fingers were digging into her flesh.

“Ask the doctor to see my X-rays if you don’t believe me.”

His face relaxed a bit, but his voice sounded hard. “I’ve already seen them. Hallie, come with me now. There is nothing here for you. You know how much I love you—”

“I’m not Hallie!” she screamed, pushing away his arms. Then she stopped, realizing what she’d just said. He stared at her, his dark brown eyes shining like onyx.

Then he smiled and moved toward her again. “I love our games, but I’m not in the mood for baron/baroness or whatever persona you’re playing now.”

She bit her lip, trying to keep another outburst at bay. “Give me time to remember everything. I’ll remember where the Manderlay is and I’ll tell you.”

Again his mood swung full tilt, and he grinned and hugged her tightly again. “When we’re living in France, I’ll make mad love to you every day at precisely noon.”

She pulled away, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “I have to go now. They’re expecting me back.”

His expression sobered. “I’ll be watching you. And waiting. You’re mine. Whatever Jamie DiBarto has in mind by playing devoted
husband, remember what I did to that other guy who tried to steal you away from me.”

“What did you do to him?”

He raised an eyebrow. “He just got out of the hospital a week ago. Why don’t you ask him?”

She ran then, as fast as she could toward the house that now looked like a safe haven rather than a cold fortress. In her mind, Mick’s hands reached out and pulled her back, but she didn’t dare turn around to see if he pursued.

CHAPTER 4

Jamie stood near the back door with his arms crossed over his chest. He knew the smug grin on his face belied the frostiness in his blue eyes. Hallie’s gaze flickered toward him, then back at the door she headed toward. Was she going to walk right by him without even a hint of guilt on her features? She looked flushed and winded.

His light tone of voice came out forced despite his effort. “I thought we were beyond the point sneaking around to see him. He could have picked you up at the end of the drive in broad daylight. Or maybe sneaking around was part of the allure.”

Hallie clenched her hands, but he could see that they trembled. “I was
not
sneaking around. I didn’t invite him here.” Her voice sounded close to hysteria, but she kept it under control with tight lips.

“So you just happened to run into him in our yard? One of those, ‘I was in the neighborhood’ things, maybe? In the neighborhood miles from his home, after scaling a cement wall…”

“Jamie, stop.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I know you won’t believe anything I say, so I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. I need to be alone.” With eyes red and watery, she ran upstairs and closed the bedroom door behind her with something close to a slam.

Jamie didn’t want her to get away with it. Actually, he was quite pleased with the fact that he managed to find out when she was sneaking around with Mick. She used to become enraged, deny it until faced with the indisputable facts. This time she was different—rattled almost. Her hands had trembled, but he couldn’t stop himself once he’d started. Each cold word pushed her farther away from him. But something made him madder than catching her with Mick from his vantage point on the balcony. He turned and slammed his fist against the wall. It still hurt, damn her. Damn himself, too.

Theresa appeared from around the corner, a questioning look on her face. “What was that noise?”

She knew his manner of composing himself and hiding his emotions, but he tried anyway. “Nothing. Nothing important, anyway.”

“James Angelo DiBarto, don’t lie to your mother.”

He hated when she addressed him by his full name. It made him feel like a little boy caught lying about sneaking out of the house with his brother again. Miguel had enjoyed getting him into trouble; probably to make up for feeling as if Jamie was the favored son.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Does that suit you better?”

Theresa placed her hands on ample hips. “It’s that wife of yours, isn’t it? Jamie, for the life of me I don’t understand why… okay, I do know why you brought her here, so much like your father I could tie you to a stake. Duty, honor, and you don’t see what she’s doing to you, been doing to you for years.”

He took a deep breath, not wanting to get into this conversation again. “She’s only been a wench for the last year of our marriage. The first two were fine.” He shook his head, flinging the thought like a dog shakes water from its fur. “I couldn’t dump her into Mick’s care when she didn’t remember him. Now that she does—”

“AAh, she was sneaking around again, wasn’t she?”

Jamie regretted the words the instant they had left his mouth. “She doesn’t have to sneak around anymore. In any case, I’m not going to kick her out of this house when I brought her here to recuperate. I’ve given her a chance to leave without any bad feelings, and for some reason she chooses to stay. In two weeks she’ll be out of here and out of our lives forever, so just drop whatever it is you’re going to lecture me about and be polite until then.” Then he added with a smile, “Please.”

Theresa touched his arm. “You’re too nice to her. She doesn’t deserve it.” Her expression grew alarmed. “You’re not thinking of giving her a second chance, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Her features relaxed. “And what about this Renee woman? Miguel tells me she’s head over heels in love with you. Which, frankly, is quite obvious by the number of times she’s called since you’ve been here.”

He twisted his mouth in thought. “I don’t know. Right now, she’s just a friend. Maybe when my life is back in order, I’ll explore the possibilities.”

Theresa’s face glowed. “I think you should. You’ll bring her here to meet me soon?”

Her happiness at his step back into life touched him. He leaned down to plant a kiss on her soft cheek, “When the situation warrants it.”

He watched his mother return to her mahogany roll-top desk from which she continued management of his late father’s investments. His shrewd investments gave them a life his salary as a vineyard worker could never have done, in California or back in Italy when Jamie was a boy. Armed with a thousand dollars and an uncanny feel for the stock market, his father had made them comfortably wealthy by the time Jamie was thirteen. Then he kept going, kept taking risks, and making more money.

More than their growing wealth and position, Jamie remembered the tension that grew between his parents. The arguments he’d overhead when Theresa tried to drag his father away from that same desk stacked with company profiles. She called it an obsession with money; he called it taking care of his family.

His mother had been happy with what they had in the early days—long days of work that made supper an occasion for togetherness. The money wasn’t worth his alienation from the family. Later his father made concessions, and they approached being the close-knit family they had been before. Then he died of a heart attack.

Jamie hadn’t inherited that instinct for investing, although his brother Miguel had touches of it from time to time. His own lack of talent for the market didn’t bother Jamie. He had seen what it did to his family, and ultimately to his father after years of taking risks and worrying about the consequences. He had decided he didn’t want to put his own family through that. He needn’t have worried. Hallie’s professingsclaim to want children someday had turned into excuses and finally flat-out refusals to ever make herself fat and ugly.

That didn’t matter now. He and Hallie were over,
finito
. Then he realized he had been walking upstairs. What brought him back to present was the sound of her crying. Actually, it was more like bawling. He walked to her door, not because of a need to comfort her, he assured himself. More out of curiosity. Never had he heard her cry as she was now. Not that pretentious crying she summoned to get her way or get out of trouble. This was out and out sobbing her guts out crying. He strained to hear the words she gasped out between sobs.

“I—I w-want to g-go home! I w-want my mom. And d-dad. And Phoenix, T-tubby and Shelby.”

Jamie frowned. She had never displayed a need for her parents. Especially her dad, who was virtually non-existent. And who the heck were Tubby and Shelby? And why did she want to go to Phoenix? It sounded as though someone else were in there and not Hallie.

Then something triggered inside his mind. Her mother. Damn. She had called that morning while Hallie was still asleep. He glanced at his watch. And was coming to pick her up in an hour. He had meant to tell her when he saw her up on the balcony, but the conversation had taken a turn for the worse, and he’d forgotten. The same reason he’d forgotten again when she returned from her rendezvous with Mick. He certainly didn’t want her mother to find Hallie bawling, or even looking as if she had been. Velvet would rant and rave about his neglect, and he’d have to tell her where to shove her phony motherly concern.

He was going to have to bust in on her crying session. When he knocked on the door, her crying stopped.

“Go ‘way.” a muffled voice called out.

He pushed the door open a few inches. She was sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up, her face buried in the pillow sandwiched between. Something about her posture reminded him of a little girl lost in despair. She didn’t look up at him. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to look more at ease than he felt.