We Will Always Have the Closet (20 page)

Trying to rub the discomfort away, Sam swung his legs off the bed and stood up slowly, getting used to the feel of his legs holding his weight again. The nightmare was over. Linden was conclusively implicated in the art fraud and also in the kidnapping. Since he didn’t seem to have either been the mastermind or had any “hands-on” in the actual kidnapping, the judge had allowed him the relative freedom of an electronic ankle bracelet instead of jail time accompanied by a hefty fine. Ironically, albeit temporary, his criminal status had sparked a new interest in his art business, which was now incongruently blooming. Liam, who owned part of the business, had insisted in hiring Petra as an art consultant and docent. Jonas could not fight it now that he had to relegate his ownership rights to his best friend, at least while detained. The British artist had all intentions of using that time to make up for some of the damage his friend had caused Petra, emotionally and financially.

Petra came back just as he was trying to put on his pants with very little success. Doing mundane things with just one arm wasn’t easy, he realized with frustration. Seeing his precarious position with one leg in and one leg out, she burst out laughing. “This is too funny,” she exclaimed, putting a tray with food down on the bed. “Let me get my phone to take a picture.” The murderous glare he gave her in reply forced her to change her mind and she came to his rescue. “One leg at a time, sir,” she said condescendingly while holding the pants for him.

The clouds hovering over her had moved away, it seemed. The old Petra was back, sarcastic and fearless, full of life. They enjoyed the bland hospital food together while waiting for the doctor to come and discharge him. The conversation flowed easily and abundantly. It felt good, it felt right, and it felt heavenly.

Liam, as promised, came to drive them both home, and Sam had never felt as happy and content as when he was sitting in the now blood-free backseat of that car, the woman he loved cuddled against him, in the company of a new friend. Liam had more than proved himself to both of them, and whatever jealously he had evoked in Sam in the beginning was gone for good. “We’re the three musketeers,” he would announce in that musical British accent of his to anyone willing to listen. “All for one, and one for all.”

He was invited in for a quick meal and a chat by the fire. The night was very cold as Christmas approached, and they had even driven through flurries on their way home. “Why don’t you stay the night, Liam?” Petra suggested, “It’s dark and cold outside.”

“God, no!” he exclaimed with a big gesture of his hands. “And cramp your style the first night back from our grand adventure? No way. I don’t like being the third wheel.” They all laughed at his vehemence as he stood up to leave. “You deserve a wonderful, relaxing night, so I will be off.”

With Liam gone, they found themselves finally alone for the first time in over a week. Sam enveloped her in a tight embrace, his bandaged arm stuck between them. “My birthday was two days ago and you never gave me your birthday gift,” he whispered, his mouth lightly touching her ear. Like a thousand tiny caressing fingers, shivers ran along his body as he bent down to her height.

“I was a little busy worrying about your life,” she said, taking her turn at his ear. “Maybe I can give it to you now?” She looked at him quizzically as if asking for permission she already knew she had. He smiled and gave her a nod. “Stay put,” she said as her hands crawled over his chest, undoing his shirt one button at a time. Carefully, she pulled his shirt off, taking his arm out of the sling for a moment, teasingly spreading her hands across his bare chest. She bent down her head, and, getting closer, bestowed several kisses across his pectoral muscles and down the center of his torso and stomach. Sam was having trouble controlling himself. His hands were twitching to reach out and touch her the same way she was touching him, but every time he tried, she would slap his hand away. He would do it her way.

As her mouth moved across his abdomen, she suddenly moved away from him. The surprise, or possibly disappointment, was obvious on his face. “Your present is in the other room,” she said with a little mischievous smile. Sam followed her into the room, holding her hand. At some point during the evening she had apparently found a way of lighting candles in the room without him knowing. The room was drowned in the soft light and smelled of sweet lavender. “Don’t move,” she ordered again. “I mean it.”

This time she worked on his pants, undoing the belt, unzipping it slowly, pulling them down and off him.
Her eyes surveyed his body and his mind fogged with desire. Reaching inside her jeans’ pocket, she removed a tiny wrapped box and handed it to him. “Don’t open it yet,” she asked as she proceeded to finish undressing him. Then, as he stood there gloriously naked, trembling with hunger for her, she undressed, stumbling over herself, eager to be one with him.
Perfection
. Free of her clothes, she stepped forward so their naked bodies were touching. “Open the box.”

Using his teeth to help him with the wrapping, he opened it with some difficulty. Inside the pretty red box there was a key, a simple house key. “For you,” she said, reaching around his waist and pulling him closer. “Will you accept it? It opens my house and my heart.” Her voice quivered a little.

Sam considered the key for a few seconds, silent, relishing in the feeling of her warm body against his. He then wrapped his only functional arm around her, bent down to reach her lips with his, and after a long tantalizing kiss, said, “Yes, I will accept it.” She went weak in the knees and he had to brace her with his arm. “I love you, Petra.”

Fueled by his words, Petra slid her hand between them to caress him. The red box fell from his hand and a moan of delight left his lips as her fingers found his sensitive skin and lingered there teasingly, savoring his reaction to her touch. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He could feel her heat, yearning for his own, first on him, then sheathing him. So, the dance resumed; bodies rolling against one another, lips exploring each other, hands pulling them closer and closer until they became one.

***

Petra

In the aftermath of love, Sam slumbered peacefully with his good arm behind her, cushioning her head. She couldn’t sleep, but this time nightmares had nothing to do with it. Sam had admitted to loving her. Finally. She could hardly believe it. As much as she had felt loved almost since their first encounter, he had avoided the L-word for so long that she was starting to have her doubts. When she decided to give him a key to her place—more symbolic than anything else, really, considering he had been living there since her accident—she had a moment of panic thinking that he may run. But he stayed and she loved him even more for it. After Jonas, she had given up on love; she convinced herself that real love wasn’t in her cards and that companionship was another fantasy of her overactive imagination. Still, she was having a hard time believing that she was indeed loved and cherished by another human being.

With him by her side, maybe she would be able to dispel the feelings and images she had stuck in her mind; she had killed somebody, taken a life that was not hers to take, criminal or not. At that crucial moment she didn’t think, she acted, reacted to the certainty that he was going to shoot Sam again. Her hands had reached for the discarded gun close by and she had pulled the trigger. Had she crashed in guilt afterward? No. She hadn’t given the dead man a second thought, worried as she was about Sam at that moment. It wasn’t until the hospital, after being sure that Sam was going to be all right, that her mind recalled what she had done and guilt assailed her full force.

He moved his arm under her head, interrupting her agonizing thoughts. As she watched him, Sam took a deep breath in his sleep, bringing a smile to her face. How perfect he was, lying bare-chested, breathing evenly as he slept. His wounded arm, bandaged and artificially bent, laid beside him, a reminder that in spite of her remorse, she had done the right thing. Sam was alive and well. And he loved her.

Chapter Ten

COFFEE, ISLANDS, AND FOES

Petra

Life was good, she thought, stretching her aching arms above her head. Collapsing into the icy cold grass, Petra took a few minutes to rest and take in the beautiful view of the mountains in the distance. She had been running along the shoreline for the past half hour. She hadn’t run in a while, and as she found out quickly, she still wasn’t totally ready for the long runs she was used to before. The muscles of her legs didn’t seem too happy with the exertion, and her head was complaining loud and clear. The doctors had told her not to exercise for a while because of her concussion, but she was getting tired of feeling the frustration that went along with flaccid muscles. Besides, it was glorious outside with the sun proclaiming its sovereignty over the gloom of winter; she just had to do it. Of course, now she was tired and just a little dizzy from the effort, but she felt good.

Taking in deep breaths of cool fresh air, she thought about how happy she was in spite of all the turmoil and heartache of recent weeks. Part of her heart still bled; betrayals of any kind leave wounds and scars of epic proportions. How could she complain when she had won the trophy, though? She had won the heart of the most amazing man she had ever met, the one guy who completed her.

And yet, there were still a few things that nagged at her, things she still couldn’t totally explain or ignore. One of those things was her so-called friend Alina and the extent of her involvement in the whole art fraud deal. Most importantly, had she been aware of the plans to kidnap Petra? The questions kept her awake even as she lay beside Sam, blissfully exhausted and fulfilled. It was a matter of pride, if nothing else, to find out the truth.

“Look what the cat dragged in…or out.” Sam was standing behind her in his sweatpants, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What the hell are you doing? You know what the doctor—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” she interrupted, jumping to her feet. Bad idea, as it turned out; she winced at the flash of pain that shot to her head. “I know what the doctor said, but I’m shriveling like a little old lady. I needed to
do
something.”

Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “I love this shriveled old lady just the way she is,” he said, nuzzling her gently. “Preferably without a brain injury.” Petra giggled and melted against his hard body. She would never get enough of his warmth, the feeling of his body so different from hers. Hard muscle to her softness, straight lines to her curves. It was heaven in his arms.

“I guess I’ll have to get ready and go to work,” she said finally, feeling the heady effects of Sam’s touch invade her mind and body.

Sam slid his arm over her shoulders and they both walked back to the house. “Are you sure you have to go to work?” Sam asked with a mischievous grin, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I can show you how to burn calories without running.”

As a reply, Petra ran away from him, laughing. “No more of that black magic, Sam,” she yelled out. “I have to go to work. Don’t mess with my head.”

On her way to the magazine, Petra’s thoughts went back to Alina. Tired of betrayal from people she had loved and trusted, she found it hard to swallow that Alina, whom she had known since college, could have been so deceiving. She still didn’t quite know how deep her involvement in the whole thing went, and she very much wanted to know. Suddenly, she realized she wasn’t driving to the magazine but heading in the opposite direction to where Alina lived.

The phone rang. It was Liam. “Are you going to work?” he asked. “I was wondering if you could pick me up on your way. My car is the shop for maintenance.”

Damn! Sometimes she felt like Liam could read people’s minds. “I’m n-not going to work- yet,” she stuttered. “I’m heading to see Alina.”

“What? Are you crazy?” Liam screamed from the other end. “She could be dangerous. For all we know, she may be the one that came up with the whole idea of the kidnapping.”

“I have to know what her side of the story is,” Petra said in frustration. “I’m going to talk to her.”

“Come and pick me up.” Liam demanded. “I’ll go with you, crazy woman. Come and get me now, do you hear?”

From his tone of voice, Petra knew she couldn’t deny him, so she made a U-turn and headed back toward Liam’s studio. Her friend was already waiting outside, looking more than just a little annoyed. “You have lost your freaking mind,” he yelled, leaving her a little shell shocked. Liam never yelled. He was the mellowest person she’d ever met.

“Liam, don’t be upset,” she pleaded, turning her eyes back to the road. “I just need to know. I trusted her and she fooled me. It’s not bad enough my husband did what he did but…Alina too?”

The Brit seemed to calm down a little at the pain in her voice. “But she might be dangerous,” he argued. With a big sigh, he gave in. “All right, here’s the plan. I’ll be out of sight while you talk to her, just in case.” She agreed and drove faster through the busy city streets.

Alina lived in a beautiful high-end loft apartment in a building that stretched ten floors high. They parked in the visitor’s parking garage and rang the intercom. Alina’s elegant melodic voice came through the speaker. “Yes?”

“Alina, it’s me, Petra.” They could hear Alina’s sudden annoyance in the silence that followed. “I need to talk to you. Can I come up?”

“What do you want to talk to me about?” the other woman asked, suspicion in her voice. “I have nothing to say to you.”

The tone of voice, the refusal to talk, it all should have sent waves of warnings to her, but Petra ignored the signs, desperate for answers as she was. “Please, Alina,” she asked, hating herself for having to almost beg. “If you don’t want me to come up, maybe we can meet at the coffee shop next door. Public space…” Another silence followed, then a click that indicated the switching off of the intercom. Was she coming down? Petra exchanged a worried look with Liam. “Do you think she’s coming down?”

Liam nodded. “I’ll be waiting around the corner,” he said. “I don’t want her to see me. Just shout if you need me, Petra.” With that he vanished around the corner of the building and Petra felt uneasy all of a sudden, a sense of doom permeating her heart.

Her nervousness got worse as soon as Alina’s gorgeous figure came floating out the door. How could anyone be so beautiful, so elegant, and yet have such a flawed character? Her former friend frowned at her and waved her in the direction of the coffee shop just a few doors down from the apartment building before heading off without waiting. She was obviously in a hurry to get rid of her, Petra thought as she followed the graceful woman.

Petra couldn’t see Liam anywhere. For a crazy moment she gave in to her growing paranoia and wondered whether he was around at all as she sat at a booth across from a visibly annoyed Alina. “I have a few questions for you,” Petra said, looking the other woman straight in the eye. She wasn’t going to allow Alina to intimidate her anymore.

Alina seemed to be daring her, chin sticking forward and mouth set in a thin line. “Why should I answer any of your questions?”

“Because,” Petra took a deep breath, trying to control her anger, “you owe me. You have claimed to be my friend for years, you jump in bed with my husband right after I get married, and then stand by him while he commits crimes I never thought him capable of.”

The other woman cackled. “You have always been stupid,” she hissed, her perfect almond eyes narrowed. “Your husband was already sleeping with me before you got married.” She snorted maliciously at Petra’s surprise. “Yes, sweetie, you were cuckolded even before you were a wife. I tried to dissuade him from the silly idea of marrying you, the artsy pretty girl who would be good to attract customers, and the girl that his best friend so much wanted to get in bed with. Jonas always wanted what others had, kind of like me. Must be why we get along so well.”

Petra squirmed in her seat. She didn’t think she could feel any worse than she’d felt after finding out her husband had orchestrated her kidnapping, but she was wrong. “He married me so Liam couldn’t have me?” she asked in shock and outrage. She hoped that Liam couldn’t hear this from wherever he was hiding. He had been such a faithful friend to her ex-husband. This would be as painful to him as it was for her.

“Of course,” Alina spat out with rancor. “Why else would he want to marry an insipid little nobody like you? Men like Jonas require excitement, color, and sophistication. You offered none of that.”

“But he was best friends with Liam. How could he do that to him?” she asked, her voice a bit too high.

“Oh my God! You are so naïve.” Cackling again like a witch, Alina’s beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of hate. “He was never Liam’s friend. That British idiot was pretty and talented, I will give him that—perfect to make Jonas look good in the art world and to make his dealings look and feel legitimate. Linden used him like he used everybody around him to serve his own grand purposes.”

Rubbing her face in disbelief, Petra glanced around, frantically trying to locate Liam. “So, you were used also, I guess,” she said, not being able to find her friend.

“Hell no,” the other woman exclaimed. “I’m just like him. I know how to manipulate you people in order to get what I want. Linden and I are evolved beings that have no use for schmucks like you, other than to help us achieve our goals. And our goal was to get very rich, very quickly.”

“Jonas was already extremely wealthy,” Petra said. “Why did he need any more money?”

Alina let out a sigh of exasperation. “This is why you will never amount to anything. There is no such thing as enough money, dear.”

Silence fell between them for a few moments. Petra had finally located Liam, sitting a couple tables away, his back turned to them. She could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way his head was tilted that he was listening to every word. “So, you were with Jonas in this recent romantic getaway, weren’t you?”

“Of course not,” she exclaimed in a huff. “There was no romantic getaway. He was peddling some stolen art up in Canada. I wouldn’t have missed seeing you fall down that staircase for anything in this world.”

Petra’s body stiffened. Unwittingly, Alina had just given her a piece of information she didn’t have before. She
had
seen Alina at the galleria after all. Had she pushed Petra, like Sam had always suspected?

“You were there when I fell?” she exclaimed, noticing a tiny movement from Liam’s table. He had heard the startling revelation as well.

Alina stood up suddenly, eyes shadowed in disdain. “You were right about one thing. Jonas is incapable of coming up with a viable criminal act. Nobody’s perfect, I guess. Like an artist, he needed a muse…I was his muse. Do you get it now, you ridiculous excuse for a woman?”

Petra watched Alina leave. Liam was by her side as soon as the door closed behind the viper. Petra was paralyzed by shock. When the artist laid his hand on her shoulder, she snapped out of her trance. “Holy crap, Liam,” she exclaimed, finding her voice again. “Did you hear that?”

His lips were squeezed tight in a grim line. “I heard every word,” he admitted. “We need to go to the police. She needs to pay for her crimes as much as Jonas. Sam is going to flip when he finds out she had a hand in your fall.”

“How do you think she did it? I wasn’t pushed, I’m positive,” she said, meeting his somber eyes.

“Didn’t you say you slipped on something that night?” Everything was making more sense now. Alina must have placed something on one of the steps so that Petra would slip and fall. She knew where Petra was headed. It had only been a question of getting there first and hiding. Her loft was much closer to the galleria than Petra’s house; it had been simple. It was also sinister. Shivers coursed through her body. Liam slid an arm over her shoulders and pulled her gently to him. “Let’s go. We need to tell Sam about this.”

Sam was livid when they relayed the whole story to him. “I always suspected your accident at the galleria was caused by someone else,” he said. “But I never thought Alina had anything to do with it. The woman is diabolical, much worse than Jonas. I didn’t think that was possible.”

He called the entities he had been working with and told them the news. With the promise he would write a detailed report of all the events coming to light, Sam hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Across the living room, Petra, sitting hunched over and clutching her stomach, watched him. Liam was beside her on the couch, his hand holding hers. There was a time when Sam would have been jealous, Petra knew, but the Brit had proved himself to be trustworthy again and again. It was good to have such a good friend, especially in light of the new events.

“You call me if you need anything,” Liam was saying to her. He looked up at Sam. “Do you want me to write down all I heard today?”

Sam nodded. “That would be great. Thanks, Liam,” he said, thanking him for a lot more than the written report. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“No, thanks,” Liam stood up. “I better go. I have a few works to finish in the studio. I have a new model coming today.”

After he left, Sam sat by Petra, who had been unusually quiet. “Are you okay?”