Crossfire (10 page)

“I’ll be fine.” He hesitated before asking, “Do you always speak to him like that?”

“How?”

“A little rough. That’s not your normal style.” He was careful not to give offence.

She laughed as realization dawned. “Richard and I were both guys in a previous life. He hasn’t quite adjusted to the fact that I’m female.” At his puzzled look she added, “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some day.” She paused, tilting her head to one side. “And if you knew Richard, you would see that he needs taking down a few notches. He’s rather handsome, and he knows it.” She smiled. “You mustn’t take it to heart, it’s all just talk.”

He nodded, trying to understand the circles in which she moved. “Why does he call you Michel?”

“That’s part of the same story. That was my name when we first met.” She changed the subject. “I’m finished with my bike, so let me wash my hands and if you feel strong enough, I can show you the rest of the place.”

She returned a few minutes later, holding clean hands aloft for inspection.

Stefan rose from the couch. “Much better,” he said in response to her unspoken question, “but you still have a smudge over there.” He reached out to touch her cheek.

He saw something in her eyes then, the quick wariness of a startled deer, as she reached up and rubbed vigorously at the spot he had touched.

“There, is it gone?”

He nodded.

“Well,” she continued, “you’ve seen all there is to see on this floor, so we can go upstairs. That spiral staircase goes to the next floor, but we’ll take the elevator.”

She led the way, and showed him the code to open the doors. Once inside, she pressed the button for the second floor. The doors opened seconds later onto a dark floor. She touched a switch, flooding the area with light.

They walked out into an entertainment area, with a wooden bar and a pool table. Several comfortable armchairs stood in a half circle. An impressive collection of trophies was on display in a glass cabinet against the far wall.

“This is where I have my wild parties.”

He detected the sarcasm in her voice, and raised an eyebrow.

She continued, “No, we used to entertain quite a lot here, but these days I don’t get around to it.”

He sensed the lie, but didn’t comment.

She led the way to another, larger room, which turned out to be a modern gymnasium.

“This is one of my favorite rooms,” she said as they entered. “I love looking at myself.” The glint in her eyes gave her away as she looked at their reflections in the mirrors that lined the walls.

Stefan smiled. “This is great, Marcelle,” he complimented, reaching out to run his hand over a gleaming piece of equipment.

“There’s more,” she said as she led the way to the other end of the gym. They entered a much smaller room, equipped with a sauna and Jacuzzi. Dark blue tiles covered the floor, and two opaque glass shower stalls stood in the far corner.

“This is good for sore muscles,” she said, indicating the Jacuzzi. “I sometimes relax here after a race or training.”

“After a hundred and sixty kilometers I would imagine this is just what you need.”

“You better believe it.” She walked back towards the gym. “Let’s go up to the pool.”

“Up?”

“Yes, up on the roof.” She led the way back to the elevator.

The doors opened and the cool evening breeze flooded over them. They ascended a few steps and she switched on muted lights.

The lights lit up a wonderland of green plants and a pool set into the roof. Pool recliners stood on the grass, and a small waterfall gurgled into the far side of the pool. It was a good size, twenty-five meters by fifteen, large enough to swim a few lengths for exercise.

In a corner was a barbecue fireplace, a table and some chairs. An eight-foot wall enclosed the roof, so that no one on the ground would guess what was up there.

Marcelle explained, “In winter, we put a transparent cover over the whole area. It attaches to the wall, and the pool gets heated, so I can use it right through the year.”

Stefan liked what he saw. “It looks tropical, a lot like the place where I live.” He immediately regretted his words, not wanting to reveal too much.

“La Montagne?”

He nodded.

“You’re not so anxious to get back there anymore. What changed?”

He searched his mind for a suitable answer. She could never know she was the reason he had decided to stay. “I decided you were right. As long as nobody knows I’m here, I’m quite safe.”

She laughed. “At last, logic prevails.”

“I guess you could say that,” he said with a smile.

Back in the living room, she made them tea, which they enjoyed with her homemade choc-chip cookies.

A little after nine, he suppressed a yawn behind his hand. “Guess I’m still a bit short on stamina,” he said with a half-smile.

“Perhaps you walked a bit too much tonight?”

“No, I’m feeling fine, just a little tired.”

“Well, then I think it’s time for bed, for both of us.”

She took him by the arm and they walked down the passage together, going to their respective rooms. “I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll check on you afterwards.”

He nodded. He couldn’t believe that a bit of walking could tire him out like this, but it reminded him how close he had come to dying.

After a warm, soothing shower, Marcelle dressed for bed. She went to Stefan’s room and peeked around the doorjamb, expecting to find him fast asleep.

He was in bed, but still awake, the covers drawn up to his waist and his upper body bare. He patted a spot on the bed. “Come, sit here. I want to talk to you.”

She was anxious to get to sleep. The duels between her and Richard sometimes turned rough, and she wanted to be at her best. She hesitated. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“It will just take a few minutes.”

She came closer, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“That’s better. I want to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer.”

“What is it?”

“Are you afraid of me?”

The quick look in her eyes told him he had guessed right.

“Come on, tell me,” he prompted when she hesitated.

She took a deep breath. “Yes, you scare me a bit.”

“Why? I can’t do anything to you.”

“Maybe not now, but I feel like the mouse who pulled a thorn out of the lion’s paw, wondering if he’s going to eat me when he feels better.”

Her logic was sound, but he wanted to put her fears at rest. “Marcelle, what kind of man do you think I am? I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. Why would I hurt you?”

“I don’t know. Does what I did count for something in your world?”

“Of course it does. I could never repay you.”

“Oh,” was all she said, keeping her eyes downcast.

“I don’t want you to see me as a monster.” Stefan took one of her hands in his. He stared into her gray eyes, willing her to believe him. “I owe you my life. I’ll protect you with my last breath, and I’ll never harm you, ever. Do you believe me?”

She met his gaze, seeing in his eyes that he spoke the truth. “Yes, I believe you.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell you more about myself and what I do. I hope that will be enough to reassure you.”

Marcelle nodded. “Did you know that your eyes change color with your moods?”

“How do they look now?”

“A warm deep blue, like they did at first. Lately, your eyes have been so cold and pale. That’s what made me nervous.”

“Well, I will do my best to look friendly in future,” he said, closing his right eye in a quick wink.

She giggled, and he released her hand, rewarding her with a warm smile.

“Time to go to sleep, I think,” she said, getting to her feet. “I don’t want to get my butt kicked tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” he said, stifling a yawn.

Marcelle went to her room, took off her robe, and switched off the light. She fell onto the king-sized bed, feeling unbelievably tired. She felt sure she would enjoy an undisturbed night’s sleep, and she needed it.

* * * *

Chapter Ten

Terrified screams woke Stefan a few hours later. They came from behind Marcelle’s closed door. He jumped to his feet as fast as his injuries would allow, and hurriedly made his way to the main bedroom.

He switched on the light to see her thrashing around on the bed, and now he could hear what she was screaming, “Jean...get out! The fire! No! Jean...Jean!”

He grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “Marcelle! Wake up!”

She woke in mid-scream, looking confused. Her body shook, perspiration running down her face as she tried to reassure herself, “It’s just a dream. I’m okay. I’m okay now.” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, barely aware of his presence. “Calm down...there’s no fire. Everything’s fine now...”

He got the feeling that this scene played itself out many nights, when she woke from the sound of her own screams. He wanted to hold her, to take this terrible suffering from her, but he sensed she was in her own world, her own way of coping, and would resent his intrusion.

Gradually her eyes cleared, and she looked up at him. “I’m okay. But it’s too hot in here. I can’t stand it.” She got off the bed, her summer pajamas clinging damply to her slim figure as she headed for the door.

“Marcelle, where are you going?”

She turned to look at him. “I’m going for a swim, and you’re going back to bed.”

Without another word, she disappeared down the passage. He let her go, and returned to his own room. He lay sleepless in the dark, racked with guilt, and listened for the sound of the elevator.

An hour later, he couldn’t wait any longer. He headed for the elevator, and punched in the code that would bring it down again. The doors opened and he stepped into the mirrored interior. Seconds later, the doors opened to the starlit sky.

Stefan shivered in the cool evening breeze as he walked up the stairs to the pool. Things were dark and quiet, too quiet. He switched on the lights.

She wasn’t in the pool, and alarm jangled down his spine. Then he spotted her motionless form in a recliner chair, and hurried to her. She was sound asleep, her soaked pajamas clinging to her body. Her skin was cold to the touch, and her damp hair hung over her closed eyes. He couldn’t let her sleep there for the rest of the night, though he had a feeling she often did when she was alone.

Under normal circumstances, he would have carried her downstairs. But with his left arm out of action, and his strength so depleted, it wasn’t an option. His attempts to rouse Marcelle only brought muttered protests from her. But he persisted, and eventually got her to her feet. She allowed him to lead her to the elevator, confused and sleepy.

Back in her bedroom, he took her straight to the bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bath while he switched on the spray of the shower and adjusted the temperature to hot. He led her to the shower and pushed her under the spray, careful not to get his dressings wet.

She fought him for a second before she relaxed in the warm embrace of the water. Her eyes cleared, and she stared wordlessly at him, her pajamas transparent under the cascading water.

He averted his eyes. “I’ll make some tea. Can you finish here on your own?”

She nodded, and he went to the kitchen.

~ . ~

When Stefan returned with two steaming mugs of sweet tea, he found Marcelle seated in front of her dressing table, clad in a thick toweling robe. She had finished drying her hair, and the warmth of the blow dryer had put some color back into her cheeks. He put the mugs on the coffee table in front of the couch, and sank into the plush pillows of the couch.

She joined him a few moments later, and he handed her a mug.

“Great tea,” she said after taking a sip.

He nodded. “Was that one of those bad dreams you mentioned?”

She avoided his eyes.

“Marcelle, you have a problem. Let me help you.”

She sighed. “If I train myself into the ground, so that I fall asleep before dinner, the dreams stay away. If I don’t train hard enough, like the past week or so, they come back.”

“Have you spoken to anyone about it, tried to get help?”

“No. It sounds so stupid when I talk about it, but at night, it’s so real, and I hurt so much.”

“Can you tell me what happens in these dreams?”

She replaced her empty mug on the coffee table, and suppressed a shudder as she tried to explain what haunted her. “I see the accident again, but it’s different from how it happened. I’m terrified because I can hear his car coming, and I know what’s going to happen, but...I can’t prevent it. I start screaming. The car comes round the corner, and...” her voice trembled as she saw it again in her imagination, “starts spinning out of control. Jean could’ve recovered from that, but then, the front of the car hits the curb, and it starts cartwheeling, head over tail. I never knew a car could do that. And it doesn’t stop until it hits a concrete wall...and explodes.” She dropped her face into her hands, defeat in her voice. “Then I’m next to the car, trying to get to Jean-Michel, but the flames are too hot. And I can hear him screaming, but nobody wants to help, so I run into the flames, trying to reach him. But I can’t find him, and the flames start burning me... and then I scream myself awake. When I’m lucky, I wake up before the car starts burning.”