Full Circle (42 page)

Holly’s smile brightened the room.

“So, how far along are you now?” she
asked.

“Just under two months.” Holly took Rob’s
hand. “And the morning sickness has been dreadful. But don’t worry.
I usually get a few good days after days like the one I had today.
I should be fine tomorrow.”

“So, it’s settled,” Rob said. “The girls will
talk baby clothes, and you and I . . .” He glanced
at Mark, and an unspoken message passed between them. “We can go
for some much needed one-on-one at the gym so I can show you how
it’s done, son.” He grinned. “But enough about tomorrow. I’m ready
to gamble away some serious play money.” He nodded in the direction
of the casino room.

Mark gave her another apologetic glance as he
took her hand and fell in step behind his friends as they made
their way from the ballroom. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. The delay will just make it
better when we get back to the room.”

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the
three of them were hiding something from her. That whole exchange
back there had been too weird, full of unspoken messages.

The crowd in the casino room was thicker than
earlier. Practically shoulder-to-shoulder in places.

“Damn! What’s with the crowd?” Rob said.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t like this earlier.
But it seems to be concentrated around the poker tables.”

“Yeah. Wonder what’s going on.”

Mark and Rob navigated them through the
jostling crowd, and then Mark came to a dead stop, his hand
tightening around hers, as Rob and Holly continued cutting through
the throng. Mark’s mood shifted so drastically a cold draft swept
from his body like a phantom.

“Mark? What’s wrong?” She glanced up at him
and frowned.

The color drained from his face, which was
hard as stone.

“He wasn’t supposed to be here.” The words
were almost a murmur, void of emotion. He didn’t sound
angry . . . or upset . . . or
anything really. Just . . . dead.

“What?” She followed his stare to a
black-haired man as he revealed his cards. Those around him gasped
then began clapping. Apparently, he’d won. And based on the
mountain of chips in front of him, he’d been winning a lot.

So, this was what everyone was here to see. A
big bad poker game.

What was the fascination with this card
game?

“He’s not supposed to be here,” Mark said
again, a little louder this time. “They weren’t on the list. I’m
not ready for this.” He spoke distractedly, and his gaze was
darting around the crowd as if he were looking for someone, his
agitation palpable.

“Mark, are you okay?” Rob said as he and
Holly returned. The concern on Rob’s face was enough to make Karma
realize something was terribly wrong.

“Am I missing something?” Karma asked as Rob
grabbed Mark’s shoulders and gave him a gruff about-face and
started directing him back through the crowd. “Who was that? Will
someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“That’s Antonio,” Rob said under his
breath.

Antonio . . . Antonio? So
familiar. Where had she heard—? Oooohhh! Carol’s Antonio. The man
who’d helped send Mark into the pit of Hell eight years ago. The
man who’d taken Carol from him.

But what had Mark meant when he’d said he
wasn’t supposed to be there?

What was going on? Why did she suddenly feel
like an outsider?

* * *

“I’m fine, Rob. Ease up.” Mark pushed Rob away and
straightened his tux as best as he could in the thick sea of
humanity. He hadn’t been expecting to see Antonio here tonight. Nor
Carol. And if Antonio was here, Carol was sure to be nearby. “He
just caught me off guard is all. I’m fine.” He took Karma’s hand
again and tugged her toward the door. “Let’s go. We need to
leave.”

He continued scanning the crowd. He didn’t
want to see Carol, and yet, he couldn’t not look for her. She was
like a fatal car accident you couldn’t
not
look at, and he
was rubbernecking like he couldn’t get enough of the bloody gore,
even though he couldn’t see her yet.

But his panic was about more than that. This
week, he’d come to the realization he needed to see her again. To
talk about what had happened between them once and for all. And the
way his heart was racing this very second felt like a sign he was
finally on the right track. This wasn’t so much panic in his chest
as it was anticipation. Anticipation that he was on the verge of
letting go so he and Karma could move forward.

And yet there was still too much mental shit
getting in the way. Like a rush of sewage from a busted pipe, he
wanted to spill all. Right now. This second. That’s what seeing
Antonio had unwittingly done to him.

But that’s not how he’d planned this trip.
Tonight was for Karma. Tomorrow was for Carol. And all the days
after would be freedom. Except if he saw Carol right now, he might
not be able to wait. Such was his eagerness to finally purge her
from his system.

He had to get out before he saw her.

Without looking, he turned for the door,
plowing into a woman carrying two glasses of champagne, her head
turned toward a second woman gliding along beside her as if they
were in deep conversation.

Mark let go of Karma’s hand and captured the
woman’s arms to keep her from falling, righting her so forcefully
that he pulled her against his body.

Champagne spilled down the front of her dress
and his tuxedo, but that wasn’t what caused every hair on his body
to stand on end.

“Mark!”

He stared down into Carol’s unmistakable blue
eyes, unable to breathe, unable to think, completely stripped of
the ability to speak.

She’d cut her hair since the last time he’d
seen her. She’d always had long hair. It barely hit her shoulders
now. Why did he even notice that? Strange how the mind notices the
oddest things when under tremendous duress.

Finally, he found his voice. “Carol.”

Karma gasped behind him. “Carol? This is
Carol?”

He was still holding her arms, their bodies
closer than they’d been in eight years, touching. Her breasts
crushed against his chest.

He felt nothing. Not a hint of attraction.
Not a glimmer of the affection he’d once felt for her. She was
still beautiful, but he no longer loved her. His heart belonged to
another now.

Antonio burst through the crowd and shoved
him away. “What are you doing, Mark? Leave her alone! Jesus!” He
tore Mark’s hands from her arms.

He stumbled back, confused, unable to
decipher the battle of emotions raging inside him. How could
someone he no longer loved still hold such power over him? He could
fall in love with another woman and even ask her to marry him, but
he couldn’t even talk about the wedding or set a goddamn date for
the fear Carol had planted inside his heart. He wanted to hate her,
but he couldn’t. And he wanted to hate Antonio, too, and yet, that
emotion simply wasn’t there. What was there was a horrible, sinking
dread that crawled through his veins, making his skin itch, making
him want to scream for the fucking torment it caused.

“Back off, Antonio,” Rob said, holding his
arm out to keep Antonio away. “It was an accident. He ran into her
and simply kept her from falling, that’s all.”

“Mark?” Karma’s timid voice came from beside
him, and he felt her hands wrap around his.

He was scaring her. He didn’t mean to scare
her. But what kind of man could he be for her when he was so fucked
up in the head like this?

“I’m sorry.” He glanced toward Antonio then
at Carol. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t,
uh . . .” He frowned, not sure what he intended to
say. No words came. “I’m sorry,” he said again as he took Karma’s
hand and headed for the door without another word.

Chapter 28

Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we
need to know.

-Pema Chodron

Karma had a death grip on Mark’s back.

He surged over her like a man on a mission.
His right arm extended past her face, his hand gripping the
headboard for leverage as he pounded into her like he had something
to prove.

This wasn’t making love. And it wasn’t sex.
It wasn’t even fucking.

This was an exorcism.

What he was doing to her wasn’t about
pleasure. It wasn’t about sharing or indulging a fantasy. She was a
vessel and nothing more. Right now, she sensed that Mark simply
needed the physical exertion. The physical contact with someone he
trusted. The emotional release that communing with her would
bring.

He whispered no tender words. He wouldn’t
look her in the eye. In fact, he kept his eyes closed. Was he
seeing his demons? Was he commanding them to leave his body with
every robust thrust? Channeling them so that when he finally spent
himself, and his muscles released, they would be cast out?

Slamming his other hand into the pillow, a
mangled groan broke from his throat as his pace quickened, becoming
more brutal.

All she could was hold him and let him use
her. Some women might think that diminished their power. But not
her. Whatever had happened tonight, Mark was hurting, but he had
turned to her. Before he’d shut her out by closing his eyes, she’d
seen his anguish and his plea. It was as if he hoped she could help
him. But she hadn’t known how except to give him her body.

And she was happy to do so. If this was what
he needed, she would gladly give it.

He growled, his body falling into orgasmic
tremors even as he continued driving into her, grunting hard, his
arms taut as he held himself away from her rather than collapse
into her grasp.

She was ready to welcome him against her, to
feel him come back into himself and tuck his face against the side
of her neck as he always did and wrap his arms around her and hold
her like he would never let go. That was the Mark she knew. The one
she expected to come back to her now that he was finished.

But this Mark? She didn’t know him.

As soon as his orgasm was over, he pulled out
of her and left the bed. Before she could gather her wits, the
bathroom door closed with an abrupt click. A moment later, the
shower turned on.

She sat up and stared numbly into the dark
emptiness. What had just happened here?

* * *

Mark huddled on the floor of the shower, his hands
over his face, silent sobs wracking his body.

How could he have used Karma like that? He
had never had sex with her without giving her an orgasm. Her
pleasure was always first and foremost, but tonight, after
returning to the room, he’d ripped that dress off her as if it had
been a poisonous sheath.

Then he’d pushed her onto the bed and fucked
her like an animal. No passion. No tenderness. Just feral
instinct.

And he’d seen the way she’d looked at him. As
if she didn’t recognize him. Like he was a stranger. And yet even
that hadn’t stopped him. He’d closed his eyes and turned away. He
couldn’t take her looking at him like that. Like she was on the
verge of fear.

He dropped his hands and tilted his head back
against the cold tile, eyes closed.

He was supposed to protect Karma.

To love and protect, wasn’t that how the vows
went? See, he couldn’t even honor her the way a man should honor
his woman. Even though they weren’t yet married, he should be able
to at least cherish her in the way a wife deserved to be cherished,
shouldn’t he? If he couldn’t, what was the point?

This was the problem with marriage. Too many
men couldn’t honor their vows. Maybe Carol had somehow known he
wouldn’t be able to honor his, which was why she left. Why she ran
off and found a man who would treat her better than he could. A man
like Antonio.

Antonio had come to Carol’s rescue tonight in
a matter of seconds. He’d seen Mark too close to her, and he’d come
to protect her the way Mark should have protected Karma.

Antonio was a better man. He was the kind of
man Carol deserved. The kind of man
Karma
deserved.

His stomach churned with self-loathing the
way it did every time he bumped into Carol. Seeing her always
opened old wounds. Always made him see his failings. Reminded him
of the life he’d once had but lost. And now it felt like he would
never get it back.

But the worst was what he’d done to
Karma.

Karma.

She was out there, probably wondering what
she’d done wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all him.
All his fault.

His stomach roiled.

Damn it.

He didn’t want . . . not this
time . . . please . . .

He lurched from the shower and fell in front
of the toilet, clutching his stomach as he threw up what was left
of his dinner.

“Mark?” Karma knocked on the door. “Are you
okay?”

He swallowed a gag and cleared his throat.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” He scrunched his eyes closed and covered
his mouth so she wouldn’t hear him sob.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded and took a deep, shaky breath.
“Yes, just . . . dinner didn’t agree with me.”

Silence.

Of course, she wouldn’t believe him. She was
a smart woman. She could see through his lie and knew why he was
sick.

He needed to pull himself together. Or at
least as together as he could.

After flushing the toilet, he finished his
shower, brushed his teeth, then returned to the bedroom with a
towel wrapped around his hips.

The TV was on, turned to the local news. The
newscaster was blathering about a double homicide on the Southside.
Nothing new for Chicago.

He felt Karma’s eyes on him as he pulled a
pair of flannel pants and a T-shirt from his bag. He couldn’t even
look at her. He couldn’t meet her eyes after what he’d done.

“Are you okay?” She spoke cautiously, as if
she feared his reaction.

“Fine.” He tossed the towel aside, pulled on
his pants, then sat on the bed as he put on the shirt.