End of Eternity 3 (4 page)

A tiny hand reaches out to grasp my pinky
finger.

Her skin is soft and warm, and her grip has
surprising strength. I marvel at how small each of her fingers are;
she is chubby, pink, and perfect. Her voice is a gentle cooing
noise that is music to my ears. Although she has no words, I
understand her perfectly.

She is happy.

Leaning down, I place a kiss against her
tender forehead. There is a tuft of pale blonde hair at the crown
of her head. The hair is so fair that it is almost transparent. She
is so delicate, yet so strong.

She is smiling.

“I’ll always be here for you,” I vow to her,
knowing that she can understand me, too. “I’ll love you forever,
sweet girl.”

She looks at me with a surprising sort of
wisdom on her face, as if she is reciprocating the sentiment. I
reach out to caress her little cheek, but I am alarmed by slivers
of dark shadows against her porcelain skin. Before I can even
react, gnarled claws wrap around her little body and rip her from
my arms.

“No!” I whisper hoarsely.
“No!
Give
her back! Please!”

A knock on the bedroom door stirs me awake.
For a moment, I’m not sure where I am. The dream was so vivid that
I did not realize I was dreaming. My surroundings are bright and
illuminated by sunlight, and I have to squint to let my eyes
adjust. It looks like the room of a young boy. Grayson. Reaching
for my phone, I check the time and realize that I stayed up all
night doing research on horrible things I could do to Brad, and
that I’ve only slept for about an hour. It was a very deep sleep,
and filled with deeply disturbing images.

“Carmen?” says a woman’s voice. “There is
someone here to see you. A young man?”

Lifting a hand to rub my eyes, I contort my
face in confusion. “A young man?” I brush my hair back out of my
face as I try to make sense of this. Is it Brad? Did he find
me?

“He says he’s a doctor?”

I sit up, suddenly alert, and throw the
covers off my legs. “Owen? Did he say his name was Owen?” I grab my
purse and smooth my wrinkled clothes as I rush to the bedroom
door.

“I believe so,” says Grayson’s mother. “He
seems like a lovely young man. Were you expecting him?”

“No,” I tell her as I move across the
hallway. When I see Owen sitting on the sofa and sipping a cup of
hot chocolate, I nearly break down in tears. He is wearing a
lime-green newsboy hat, and it looks ridiculously adorable and
somehow masculine at the same time. I know he is just trying to
cheer me up with bright colors again. “What on earth,” I murmur,
staring across the room with a combination of astonishment and
gratitude. “How the heck did you get here?”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to
hop on a plane, little lady,” he says with a wink. “Besides, you
were talking crazy last night. I had to come make sure that you
weren’t going to get into any trouble without me. I’m your sidekick
now, you know?”

I laugh lightly at this. “Is that so?”

Mrs. Scott moves to my side and smiles.
“Owen was just telling me a little about what life is like as a
doctor in the big city. You are lucky to have such good friends,
Carmen.”

“I suppose I am,” I say softly, moving to
sit on the couch beside Owen. He immediately puts down his cocoa
and reaches out to wrap his arms around me in a big bear hug. I
gratefully sink into his embrace, and return the hug. “Thanks for
proving me wrong,” I whisper into his sweater.

“Anytime, Carmelita,” he says softly. “Hey!
Would you like some breakfast? Mrs. S made it all fresh! Delicious
eggs and bacon. You’ve got to have some of this.”

“I’m not feeling so hungry,” I tell him,
folding my hands in my lap. I hadn’t noticed the array of breakfast
foods spread out on the coffee table. They look delicious, but the
smell is making me feel a bit sick.

“I would normally be happy that there was
more for me, but you really need to eat something,” Owen informs
me. He grabs half a bagel that seems to be slathered with something
like cream cheese, and shoves it into my mouth.

I only just manage to part my lips in time
to avoid getting cream cheese all over my face. My eyes widen in
surprise, and a little laugh escapes my throat as I reach up to
grasp the bagel. I do bite off a piece and begin to chew, for the
flavor is pleasant against my tongue. “Dammit, Owen!” I say with
contrived annoyance. “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to take care of
your wonderful little self, then I am,” he says with a harsh look.
“And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Thank you,” I tell him softly. “It means a
lot to me that you’re here.” Sending him a small smile, I take
another bite of the bagel.

“I see that your husband has become an
accessory for a lovely little fireplace!” Owen says, gesturing to
the mantle. “He looks very comfortable up there, Mrs. S. I think
you chose an excellent spot for him.”

“Well, I don’t have very much space around
here,” the old woman says shyly as she moves to sit in the couch
across from us. “I figured it’s as good a place as any.”

“If he gets bored of sitting up there all
the time, you could always move him around so that he can get some
exercise. Over there on the windowsill might give him a nice view
of outside, and he can watch the passing cars and kids
playing.”

“That’s a lovely idea,” Grayson’s mother
says with a smile. “I am sure my son would love that. Carmen, your
friend is positively charming. Now that my son is gone, you should
find yourself a new man. You are still young, and you shouldn’t
spend your life grieving. You and Owen make such a lovely couple!
Have you two considered dating?”

I shift uncomfortably where I’m sitting as I
lower my eyes. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Scott, Owen is not on the
market. He’s already in a serious long-term relationship.”

“Oh, phooey,” the old woman says with a wave
of her hand. “He isn’t married, is he? I don’t see a ring on his
finger!”

“Not for my lack of trying,” Owen comments
sadly. “My girlfriend Caroline doesn’t believe in marriage.”

Mrs. Scott wrinkles her face up in
disapproval. “Nonsense, boy! What woman doesn’t believe in
marriage? The only ones who say that are the ones who haven’t found
the right man. Does she believe in monogamy at least? Is her delay
in marrying you an excuse to sample all the fine single men of New
York City?”

Owen blushes slightly red. “She’s German.
She has some rather... bohemian ideas.”

“Bohemian, schmohemian.” Grayson’s mother
shakes her head. “Take the advice of a wise old lady; dump that
stupid girl and date a real woman like Carmen. You two kids deserve
to be happy.”

“That’s some pretty good advice,” Owen says,
reaching over to take my hand. “What do you say, Carm? Should I
dump the stupid girl? Are you going to be my
real
woman?”

A smile takes over my features, but then it
promptly disappears. “Stop joking around, Owen. I can’t take it
right now. You would never leave Caroline. You said so
yourself.”

“But I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks me softly.
“I’m here with you instead of her.”

“Only to prove that we are actually
friends.”

“I don’t know, Carm,” he says with a small
shrug. He grabs a strip of bacon and takes a generous bite. “I’ve
been thinking about it. Caroline and I have been getting into some
pretty big fights—bigger than usual. Maybe the relationship has run
its course. Maybe I should leave her.”

I stare at him in surprise and my heart
flutters with hope. This is the only good thing I could possibly
look forward to. A future with Owen? Being around his infinite
kindness and outrageous sense of humor on a daily basis? Reaching
out to steal the cup of hot chocolate from his hands, I bring it to
my lips and take a large gulp. Its warm, familiar flavor tantalizes
my taste buds, and leaves a cozy feeling in my stomach. “Maybe,” I
respond. “But I don’t want to be a homewrecker. You need to give
this some serious thought first.”

“I will,” he says with an enthusiastic nod.
“I am not going to throw away years of my life on a whim. But
lately, I’ve been feeling more and more like something’s wrong with
my life, and I need to make a change.”

Mrs. Scott gestures to the urn atop her
mantle. “Life is short, young man. Not even the healthy and strong
are safe from death’s clutches. You need to live while you can, and
be happy while you can. You never know when you might not get a
chance to see tomorrow.”

Owen nods gravely. “I’ll remember that, Mrs.
Scott.”

The old woman smiles at him. “Now Carmen,
what are your plans for the day?” she asks. “Do you want to check
out the not-so-fine city of Detroit?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Owen chimes in.
“Maybe Mrs. S can show us some of the sights!”

“My only plans are to find a way to hurt
Brad,” I say quietly. “That’s the only thing on my to-do list.”

Owen clears his throat and shares a look
with Mrs. Scott. “Carm, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.
Don’t let this man ruin your life any more than he already
has.”

Grayson’s mother nods. “Please, dear girl.
Don’t let yourself get obsessed with vengeance. It’s not worth it.
You’ll only end up hurting yourself. Focus on the good things in
life instead. Let Brad go. Leave him to his own devices. He has to
live with what he’s done, and that’s a punishment far greater than
anything you or I could do.”

“It would be—if he cared.” Taking another
sip of Owen’s hot cocoa, I frown. “I think he’s incapable of
caring. He doesn’t experience normal human emotions. He’s a
sociopath. The only way he’ll understand what he’s done, is if it’s
done right back to him.”

“And why is it your job to teach him that
lesson?” Owen asks. “I hate to say this, Carm, but you need to let
it go.”

“I can’t. I’ve already let too much go. This
time, I’m ready for war. That bastard’s going to find out just what
Carmen Winters is made of.” I place the ceramic mug down on the
coffee table with a little clink. “Bradford West won’t know what
hit him.”

“Did you know that’s not even his real
name?” Grayson’s mother asks me. “He was born as Dmitri...
something. Petrov? Popov? I don’t know. He is Russian or Ukrainian
or something. His parents were criminals that were sent to prison
for life. Drug dealers. When he was a child, his name was changed
to avoid the negative association with them. I think he still had
an uncle or something that visited him occasionally and got him
into the life.”

“Wow,” Owen says in surprise. “This guy’s a
real class act. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Carmen.”

Grayson’s mother looks at me with sudden
worry. “Were you seeing him, dear? Are you close to him?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.” I swallow a bit of
bile that’s rising in my throat. “He’s currently staying in my
house. He used Grayson’s death to get close to me.”

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