Safe Haven (27 page)

37

A
dozen cars were parked in front of the store as Katie trailed the kids up the stairs to the house. Josh and Kristen had whined most of the ride home about how tired their legs were, but Alex ignored it, reminding them periodically that they were getting closer. When that didn’t work, he simply commented that he was getting tired, too, and didn’t want to hear any more about it.

The complaining ended when they got to the store. Alex let them grab Popsicles and Gatorade before they went upstairs, and the burst of cool air as they opened the door was ridiculously refreshing. Alex led Katie to the kitchen and she watched as he drenched his face and neck at the kitchen sink. In the living room, the kids were already sprawled on the couch, the television on.

“Sorry,” he said. “I thought I was about to die about ten minutes ago.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“That’s because I’m tough,” he said, pretending to puff out his chest. He retrieved two glasses from the cupboard and added ice cubes before pouring water from a pitcher he kept in the refrigerator.

“You’re a trouper,” he added, handing her a glass. “It’s like a sauna out there.”

“I can’t believe how many people are still at the carnival,” she said, taking a drink.

“I’ve always wondered why they don’t move up the date to either May or October, but then again, the crowds seem to come no matter what.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. “What time do you have to leave?”

“In an hour or so. But I should be back before eleven.”

Five hours, she thought. “Do you want me to make the kids anything special for dinner?”

“They like pasta. Kristen likes hers with butter, Josh likes his with marinara, and I’ve got a bottle of that in the refrigerator. They’ve been snacking all day, though, so they might not eat much.”

“What time do they go to bed?”

“Whenever. It’s always before ten, but sometimes it’s as early as eight. You’ll have to use your best judgment.”

She held the cool glass of water against her cheek and glanced around the kitchen. She hadn’t spent much time in their home, and now that she was here she noticed remnants of a woman’s touch. Little things—red stitching on the curtains, china prominently displayed in a cabinet, Bible verses on painted ceramic tiles near the stove. The house was filled with evidence of his life with another woman, but to her surprise, it didn’t bother her.

“I’m going to go hop into the shower,” Alex said. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” she said. “I can snoop around your kitchen and think about dinner.”

“The pasta’s in the cupboard over there,” he said, pointing. “But listen, when I get out, if you want me to drive you over to your place so you can shower and change, I’d be glad to do it. Or you can shower here. Whatever you want.”

She struck a sultry pose. “Is that an invitation?”

His eyes widened and then flashed to the kids.

“I was kidding.” She laughed. “I’ll shower after you’re gone.”

“Do you want to pick up a change of clothes first? If not, you can borrow sweats and a T-shirt… the sweats will be too big for you, but you can adjust the drawstring.”

Somehow the idea of wearing his clothes sounded extremely sexy to her. “That’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m not picky. I’m just watching movies with the kids, remember?”

Alex drained his glass before putting it in the sink. He leaned forward and kissed her, then headed toward the bedroom.

Once he was gone, Katie turned toward the kitchen window. She watched the road outside, feeling a nameless anxiety come over her. She’d felt the same way earlier in the morning and assumed it was an aftershock of the argument she’d had with Alex, but now she found herself thinking of the Feldmans again. And about Kevin.

She’d thought of him when she was on the Ferris wheel. As she’d scanned the crowd, she knew she hadn’t been searching for people from the restaurant. Not really. She’d been looking for Kevin. Believing for some inexplicable reason that he might be in the crowd. Thinking he was there.

But that was just her paranoia surfacing again. There was no way he could know where she was, no way to know her identity. It was impossible, she reminded herself. He never would have connected her to the Feldmans’ daughter; he never even spoke to them. But why, then, had she felt all day like someone was following her, even as they left the carnival?

She wasn’t psychic and didn’t believe in such things. But she did believe in the power of the subconscious mind to put together pieces that the conscious mind might miss. Standing in Alex’s kitchen, however, the pieces were still scrambled, without shape or order of any kind, and after watching a dozen cars pass by on the road out front, she finally turned away. It was probably just her old fears raising their ugly head again.

She shook her head and thought of Alex in the shower. The thought of joining him made her flush hot with anticipation. And yet… it wasn’t quite that simple, even if the kids hadn’t been around. Even if Alex thought of her as Katie, Erin was still married to Kevin. She wished that she were another woman, a woman who could simply move into her lover’s arms without hesitation. After all, it was Kevin who had broken all the rules of marriage when he first raised his fists against her. When God looked into her heart, she was pretty sure that He would agree that what she was doing wasn’t a sin. Wouldn’t He?

She sighed. Alex… he was all she could think about.
Later
was all she could think about. He loved her and wanted her and she wanted, more than anything, to show him that she felt the same way. She wanted to feel his body against hers, wanted all of him for as long as he wanted her. Forever.

Katie forced herself to stop picturing herself with Alex, to stop dreaming about what was to come. She shook her head to clear it and went to the living room, where she took a seat on the couch next to Josh. They were watching a Disney Channel television show she didn’t recognize. After a while she looked up at the clock, and noticed that only ten minutes had gone by. It felt like an hour.

Once he finished with his shower, Alex made a sandwich and sat beside her on the couch as he ate. He smelled clean and his hair was still wet at the ends, clinging to his skin in a way that made her want to trace the line of dampness with her lips. The kids, glued to the screen, ignored them, even after he put the plate on the end table and began to run his finger slowly up and down her thigh.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“I look terrible,” she countered, trying to ignore the line of fire burning its way up her thigh. “I haven’t showered yet.”

When it was time for him to leave, he kissed the kids in the living room. She followed him to the door and when he kissed her good-bye, he let his hand wander lower, past her waist, his lips soft against hers. Obviously in love with her, obviously wanting her, making sure she knew it. He was driving her crazy, and he seemed to be enjoying it.

“See you in a bit,” he said, pulling back.

“Drive safely,” she whispered. “The kids will be fine.”

When she heard his footsteps descending the steps outside, she leaned against the door for a long, slow breath. Good Lord, she thought. Good Lord. Vows or not, guilt or not, she decided that even if
he
wasn’t in the mood, she definitely was.

She peeked up at the clock again, certain that this would be the longest five hours of her life.

38

D
amn!” Kevin kept saying. “Damn!” He’d been driving for hours. He’d stopped to buy four bottles of vodka at the ABC store. One of them was half gone, and as he drove he saw two of everything unless he squinted, keeping one eye closed.

He was searching for bicycles. Four of them, including one with baskets. He might as well have been looking for a specific piece of plankton in the ocean. Up one road and down the next, as the afternoon wound down and dusk settled in. He looked from left to right and back again. He knew where she lived, knew he would eventually find her at home. But in the meantime the gray-haired man was out there with Erin, laughing at him, saying,
I’m so much better than Kevin, baby
.

He screamed curses in the car, pounding on the steering wheel. He flipped the safety on the Glock from the off to the on position and back again, imagining Erin kissing him, his arm around her waist. Remembering how happy she’d looked, thinking she had tricked her husband. Cheated on him. Moaned and murmured beneath her lover while he panted atop her.

He could barely see, fighting the blurriness with one eye. A car came up behind him on the neighborhood streets, tailgating for a while, then flashing his lights. Kevin slowed the car and pulled over, fingering the gun. He hated rude people, people who thought they owned the road.
Bang
.

Dusk turned the streets into shadowy mazes, making it difficult to see the spindly outlines of bicycles. When he drove past the gravel road for the second time, he decided on impulse to turn around and visit her house again, just in case. He stopped just out of sight of the cottage and got out. A hawk circled overhead, and he heard cicadas humming, but otherwise the place seemed deserted. He started toward the house but could see already from a distance that there was no bicycle parked out front. No lights on, either, but it wasn’t dark yet, so he crept to the back door. Unlocked, just like before.

She wasn’t home, and he didn’t think she’d been home since he’d been here earlier. The house was sweltering, all the windows shut tight. She would have opened the windows, he felt sure, would have had a glass of water, might have taken a shower. Nothing. He left through the back door, staring at the neighboring house. A dump. Probably deserted. Good. But the fact that Erin wasn’t home meant she was with the gray-haired man, had gone to his house. Cheating, pretending she wasn’t married. Forgetting the home that Kevin had bought for her.

His head throbbed in time with his heartbeats, a knife going in and out. Stab. Stab. Stab. It was hard to focus as he pulled the door closed behind him. Mercy of all mercies, it was cooler outside. She lived in a sweatbox, sweated with a gray-haired man. They were sweating together now, somewhere, writhing in sheets, bodies intertwined. Coffey and Ramirez were laughing about that, slapping their thighs, having a good old time at his expense.
I wonder if I could do her, too
, Coffey was saying to Ramirez.
Don’t you know?
Ramirez answered back.
She let half the precinct do her while Kevin was working. Everyone knows about it.
Bill waving from his office, holding suspension papers.
I did her, too, every Tuesday for a year. She’s wild in bed. Says the dirtiest things.

He stumbled back to his car, his finger on the gun. Bastards, all of them. Hated them, imagined walking into the precinct and unloading the Glock, emptying the clip, showing them. Showing all of them. Erin, too.

He stopped and bent over, vomiting onto the side of the road. Stomach cramping, a clawing in his gut like a rodent was trapped inside him. Puked again, and then dry heaves and the world spun when he tried to stand. The car was close and he staggered to it. Grabbed the vodka and drank and tried to think like Erin, but then he was at the barbecue holding a burger covered in flies and everyone was pointing and laughing at him.

Back to the car. Bitch had to be somewhere. She’d watch gray-hair die. Watch them all die. Burn in hell. Burn and burn, all of them. Carefully, he climbed in and started the car. He backed into a tree as he was trying to turn around, and then, cursing, tore out on the gravel, spinning rocks.

Night would soon be falling. She came in this direction, had to be down this way. Little kids couldn’t ride far. Three or four miles, maybe five. He’d been down every road this way, looked at every house. No bicycles. They could be in the garage, could be parked in fenced yards. He’d wait and she’d come home sometime. Tonight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night. He’d stick the gun in her mouth, aim it at her breasts.
Tell
me who he is
, he’d say.
I just want to talk to him.
He’d find gray-hair and show him what happened to men who slept with other men’s wives.

He felt like he had been weeks without sleep, weeks without food. He couldn’t understand why it was dark and he wondered when that happened. Couldn’t remember when he got here exactly. He remembered seeing Erin, remembered trying to follow her and driving, but wasn’t even sure where he was.

A store loomed on the right, looking like a house with a porch out front.
GAS FOOD
, the sign said. He remembered that from earlier, but how long ago he couldn’t say. He slowed the car involuntarily. He needed food, needed to sleep. Had to find a place to stay the night. His stomach lurched. He grabbed the bottle and tilted the bottom up, feeling the burn in his throat, soothing him. But as soon as he lowered the bottle, his stomach heaved again.

He pulled into the lot, fighting to keep the liquor down, his mouth watering. Running out of time. He skidded to a stop alongside the store and jumped out. Ran to the front of his car and heaved into the darkness. His body shivered, his legs wobbled. His stomach coming up. His liver. All of it. Somehow, he was still holding the bottle, hadn’t put it down. He breathed hard in and out and drank, using it to rinse his mouth, swallowing it. Finishing another bottle.

And there, like an image from a dream, in the darkened shadows behind the house, he saw four bicycles parked side by side.