M Sellars - Miranda

She stared back and chewed her lower lip for a moment then shrugged and said, “And?”

“And what?” I asked.

She bobbed her head and pressed, “What else then?”

“And it bothers me. What more do you want me to say?”

“Tell me what you’re hiding.”

“Nothing.”

“I know better.”

“Well, it’s not something for you to worry about,” I told her.

“Cac capaill. No. I’m not letting you do this. I want you to tell me,” she demanded.

“Not happening.”

“All right then, if you won’t tell me what you’re hiding, then tell me why not hearing the voices bothers you so much.”

“Because I’m sick of being screwed with by Miranda.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean, what else?”

“I mean that’s not all. What else?”

“Come on, Felicity,” I barked. “I’m pretty sure you already know the answer to that.”

“Aye, I do. But you need to say it.”

I shook my head at her. “What the hell for?

“So that you can face it.”

“Good Gods, honey… Have you been taking psychiatrist lessons from Helen or something?”

“Would you rather talk to her about this? I’m sure she would fit you in today.”

“I’m not in a hurry to talk to anyone about it,” I snapped and then announced, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a shower.”

I made a move to step past her in my bid to seek temporary refuge in the bathroom. However, my wife wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She mirrored my movement and placed her hand against my chest to stop me.

“You aren’t walking away from me, Rowan,” she said.

“I’m not talking about this anymore,” I replied, my voice tense.

I began to move again, but she still wouldn’t give up. However, instead of simply continuing the argument, she let out a low shriek then launched herself forward and pushed me. Caught completely off-guard, I tried in vain to retreat as her palms struck hard against my chest, but there was no place for me to go. The bed was immediately behind me, and between my clumsy footing and the force she applied, I stumbled. I attempted to sidestep in order to regain my balance, but Felicity angled in and hooked her leg behind mine while continuing to drive forward. I collapsed backward onto the bed, with her on top of me.

In a flash, my fiery, redheaded wife had scrambled upward and was sitting on my stomach with her knees pressing down across my arms right at the elbow. Her hands were gripping tight around my wrists and she was pitched forward, holding me down with everything her petite frame had to give.

Her face was just inches from mine when she snarled, “Damn your eyes, Rowan Linden Gant! Damn your eyes!”

“Dammit, Felicity!” I barked as I struggled. “What the hell?!”

“You’re not doing this. You’re going to talk to me,” she hissed, clamping her thighs tight on my ribcage to keep me from wriggling free.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I snipped.

She blasted back with a quick retort. “That’s not what this is about. Talk to me, damnu ort!”

I knew I could probably escape her hold, but it would involve someone getting hurt, and that someone wasn’t me. I was also well aware that this was still my wife on top of me, not Miranda using her body, and the last thing I wanted was to injure her. Given the leverage she had, I eventually just gave in and conceded the battle. Felicity, however, didn’t release her hold on me, even after I relaxed.

I sighed and simply lay there looking up into her imploring eyes. Finally, I said, “I don’t want to talk about this because I’m afraid. There. I said it.”

“Aye…” she whispered. “I know. And that’s why you have to talk about it. Tell me why.”

She definitely wasn’t going to give up, but then, I knew better than to believe she would. I’d told her the truth because lying to her would get me nowhere. But, I also hadn’t told her all of it, and she obviously knew that. How much of it I could continue to keep a secret remained to be seen.

The hollowness of fear started pooling in my chest as my emotions took over.

“She’s blinded me, honey… I can’t feel anything…”

“I know…”

“Felicity… If I can’t…” I stammered and then stopped as my throat tightened, causing me to choke on the words. Gathering myself, I started again. “If I can’t feel her coming then I might not be able to stop her. And if I can’t… If I can’t stop her then I could lose you.”

“You won’t,” she murmured. “I promise.”

“You can’t…”

“Sshhhh…” she hushed. “You won’t.”

I wanted nothing more than to believe her words, but what I had kept secret wouldn’t let me. I finally felt her vise-like grip on my ribcage begin to relax as she laid forward and slowly pressed herself against me. Apparently, I’d satisfied enough of her demand for the moment.

Once again I’d told only part of the truth, keeping hidden from her that which was already too painful for me. The image of her wasting away in that cold vision was something I felt I simply could not allow her to know.

When she released my arms I slid them around her and held tight. I’m certain we would have stayed in that position for the rest of the day had the room phone not begun to ring less than five minutes later.

“Do we have to answer it then?” Felicity asked.

“No,” I said, hugging her close.

The peal of the phone stopped after the fourth ring. Half a minute later, my cell phone began to rattle and warble out the William Tell Overture as it vibrated across the surface of the desk on the other side of the room.

My wife issued a resigned sigh. “It must be Ben…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s his ring tone.”

“You’d best answer it then.”

“I know…” I sighed. “I know.”

We disentangled ourselves, and I slowly sat up on the edge of the bed. My cell had already sent the call to voicemail and fallen into silence. Before I could stand up, however, the room phone began to ring once again. I shifted left then reached across Felicity’s legs and snatched the handset from the cradle.

“Hello,” I said.

“Ever hear of answerin’ your phone?” Ben replied to the greeting.

“Sorry, I was busy.”

“You two ain’t…well gettin’…ya’know…”

“No, Ben, we aren’t,” I said.

Under different circumstances, I would have replied with something suitably risque in order to razz him about his characteristic attack of modesty wherever sex was concerned. But, right now I didn’t feel all that amused.

“Well, are ya’ dressed?” he asked.

“Not yet, why?”

“‘Cause ya’ got about an hour, and then I’m gonna be in the lobby waitin’ for ya’,” he replied. “Both of ya’.”

“Why?”

“We got a bad guy ta’ find.”

“Ben, I already told you I’m not…”

I didn’t get a chance to finish my objection because he spoke right over the top of me, “Meet me in the lobby. See ya’ in sixty.”

At the end of the sentence, there was a dull click followed by a hollow silence. I realized he had simply hung up in order to cut me off. I sighed heavily then settled the handset back into the cradle. Then I gently patted my wife on the back of her calf.

“What’s the story?” Felicity asked.

“We need to get cleaned up,” I told her. “I’m afraid the gorilla’s keeper will be here in just a bit.”

Felicity and I were backed into a corner on the crowed elevator. Apparently, everyone staying in the hotel had a meeting at the same time this morning, or so it seemed. We pressed ourselves farther into the wall as the car stopped at each successive floor on the way down. We gained more passengers on the first three stops, but after that, it was simply an exercise in waiting since the elevator was full.