The Solitude of Passion (52 page)

“You’re overreacting.” Mitch can hardly get the words out. He’s locked in emotionally, denying himself the privilege of tears.

“Something is desperately wrong with you.” I pace over to the large bay window and turn my back on him like he’s doing to me. I can’t even look at him anymore. “This is why you don’t want me ‘rocking the boat’ with Max. In the event you don’t make it, I’ll have a matrimonial backup plan.”

Mitch doesn’t refute the theory, just stares at me with those sea glass eyes.

It feels like the whole world is shouting, and I cup my hands over my ears. There’s so much grey noise fogging up my brain I can’t filter it out anymore. If Mitch leaves I’ll splinter, lose my mind for good this time.

I take hold of the marble table set under the window. I need an anchor, and neither Mitch nor Max will do.

There’s a click at the door, followed by footsteps.

I expect Janice, but Colton materializes in her place.

“Kick the crap out of your brother,” I hiss.

“Nice.” He glides past me and makes his way over to Mitch. “You ready for your scheduled beating?”

Mitch is stoic, unmoved by my plea. “She’s not happy right now.”

“He’s going back to China,” it comes out accusatory.

Colt’s eyes widen. Even Colton sees the impending danger, the doom written all over the great wall in Mitch’s own blood. “Dude—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come with me,” Mitch counters.

I let out a little laugh. “Sounds like you have five years to kill, Mitch. That is, if they don’t burn you alive first.” I hope I scared the crap out of Colt in the process.

“Good point. We’re not going.” Colt plops on the couch like it’s no big deal.

“Maybe you’re not—I am.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. Mitch and his unmitigated resolve, he’s turned into something unrecognizable—a man on a suicide mission.

“If you’re going, I’m going,” Colt says.

Janice walks into the room and holds out a bag of prescriptions as she makes her way over.

“Mitch is going back to China.” It strings from my lips like a haunted lullaby.

Her face bleeds out all color. “Mitch?”

“Colt’s coming with me.” He’s quick with the false assurance.

An unsettled laugh gurgles in my chest. “I feel better already.” You can taste the sarcasm. “You need to recover. You can’t even go to the bathroom without pain, much less another continent.”

He gives a slow blink and nods. I can tell he’s not dismissing the notion. He’s simply quieting the conversation, shelving any potential drama for later.

An entire bevy of erratic thoughts swim through my mind. I need to update my passport. I need Max to take care of the kids and—my baby. My hand rises to my abdomen. I can’t risk losing this baby. I can’t risk getting trapped in a prison for five minutes. I can feel my skin rising in welts, replicas of the scars that Mitch wears. I can’t die over there hoping Mitch will come back and stay safe. Stella and Eli need me. Townsend and Shepherd need me. Max needs me.

Janice drops the bag on the coffee table and speeds out of the room. He’s going to kill his mother, both of them will.

“When we leaving?” Colt seems serious, too serious. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he looks downright frightened.

“Soon. I want to get this over with.”

“What about Stella?” It comes out hollow. I’m no longer in the equation. I can feel it.

“Bring her over tomorrow.” Mitch meets my gaze for the first time, earnest and apologetic. “I’ll say goodbye.”

I don’t want any of his miserable apologies. The only thing I want to bring is a frying pan down over his skull and make him forget about every other country on the planet, the same way he’s forgotten to stay home and love me.

Mitch

I wait until Lee takes off to pick up the kids before asking Colt to help me upstairs. Mom won’t even look in my direction.

“Grab a carryon bag from the attic,” I instruct as I pull a few shirts out of the drawer of my old bedroom. Nothing but a couple of plain white tees and one that reads British Columbia that belonged to my dad—most likely a bad omen. I sling it on the bed anyway.

“Here.” Colt unzips a small duffle bag. “So, how long will it be before we’re taken captive? Can I choose between electrocution or gas? Electrocution’s sort of on my bucket list—near the bottom, but nevertheless.”

“Three days.”

“Three days? Great.”

“That’s how long I plan on staying.”

“So, if you left last time with the intention of staying two weeks and landed your ass in prison for five years, lets see… this time we’re looking at a year and a half max?” He pins me with a look. “Is my math off?”

I knock my sling into the door and let out a groan.

“Hurt much?”

“Only when I move it, smart ass.” The physical therapist wants to see me every other day, but that’ll have to wait. She threatened it might freeze this way without therapy. I almost wouldn’t mind as long as I could get back to Stella and Lee. But everything in me knows I have to go. The entire country has a stranglehold on me, like some giant prison guard is holding me up by the neck and won’t let go. Scenes from my internment play out in the back of my mind like a constant mocking that I can’t shut off.

“So why we going? You didn’t get to see the wall?”

“That’s right. I didn’t get to see the wall. Good fences make good neighbors. Bring a camera, I hear that thing’s huge.” I toss my deodorant and toothpaste into the bag.

He plucks them back out. “Too bad, you can’t bring this crap on board anymore. Are we going knockoff shopping? I hear we could make a fortune on eBay.” Colton glares at me while demanding a better answer.

“How about I sell
you
on eBay?” I take a seat at the wooden ladder-back chair I used to log time in while still in school, reminds me of the notes I used to write Lee. “I need to go and come back. It’s going to eat me alive if I don’t. And when I get back, I’m going to ask Lee to marry me again. You up for best man?”

“You’re delusional, dude.” He shakes his head, looking desperately sorry for me. “She’s already married.”

I glare over at him. “I may not be able to hit you, but I can sure poison your food.”

Colt starts reorganizing the suitcase.

“You’re a nutcase, Mitch. I’m going with you, but the second our plane touches back down on U.S. soil I’m locking you up and giving Max Shepherd the key.”

“I don’t see why the fuck not. You gave him everything else.”

It’s late, but Lee calls me over to the beach house, so we can talk. She asked me to come around back, so I wouldn’t wake the kids. I was assuming it’d just be the two of us, but it’s the white of Max’s eyes I see first.

It’s cold out as the salty fog licks against my skin. The moon hides beneath a white veil, just a sliver tonight—a thumbnail moon.

I can’t get my arm in a jacket, so I didn’t even bother. I thought maybe Lee could keep me warm—guess I was wrong.

“What’s going on?” I take a hard sniff of the thick night air.

“Lee’s grabbing a sweater.” He leans back in his seat and takes a sip from his steaming mug.

I don’t like the feel of this, the tension—the mystery. Who knows what Lee has planned.

Lee steps out with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face fresh scrubbed. Lee looks all of sixteen, and it sends my dick knocking at my Levis.

“Hi.” She’s all smiles as she makes her way over, as if the three of us were getting ready to make S’mores by the fire. Lee slips an arm around my waist and kisses me openly on the lips in front of Max. I look nervously over at him. If Lee’s big plan is to incite him into beating the shit out of me, it’s going to work brilliantly.

“Lee says you’re headed to China.” Max seems indifferent.

“Just a few days.”

“Do they still mark days in twenty-four hour intervals?” His features darken. “You know how upset Stella will be when she gets wind of this?”

“I’ll tell her,” I offer.

Max doesn’t say anything. He just shifts his gaze to Lee.

“I think it’s better if I told her.” Lee rubs her hands over her arms. “But I’m not really looking forward to it—just like I’m not looking forward to this.” Her gaze falls to the sand and lingers. “I wanted you both here because I need to share something.”

I hope this is about the baby. I’ve been waiting for Lee to tell me. To give me the slightest hint that she thinks it might be mine.

“I’ve made a decision about my life.” She looks mournfully over at Max, her lids heavy with grief.

Shit. Not this.

“Lee.” I try and garner her attention, but she won’t bite.

“It hasn’t been easy.” She presses her lips together until her face is pale as the moon. “I’m always going to be Stella and Eli’s mom, that’s a title I’ll never have to give up. I never thought I’d have to stop being your wife, Mitch, but when you were gone, and we didn’t know…” She shoots a look over to the black ocean. We sit and listen to the waves tumble over one another while Lee’s mind splinters from the pain I’ve caused. “I never would have imagined giving up being your wife, Max. It seems like we’ve been through everything together—you’re a better husband than I could have hoped for.” Her eyes dart to mine. “But I don’t want you to go to China, Mitch. I want you to stay, right here in Mono. A small part of me feels like you’re punishing me for not leaving Max. I know you’re going to deny it, and that’s okay, but I think somewhere in the back of your mind—”

“Not true.” I shake my head emphatically. “I would never do that.” It never crossed my mind.

“You’re doing it,” Max interjects. “You’re manipulating Lee into making a decision before she’s ready.”

“I
have
made a decision,” the words speed out of her. “I’m sorry, Max. I can’t do this with either of you anymore. I never meant to break your heart. I hope you don’t hate me, but I’m filing first thing in the morning.” She can’t say the D word—she can’t say divorce.

He rests his elbows onto the table and examines her as if they were playing poker. “So if I tell you I’m going to hurl myself off a bridge are you going to retract your statement? You’re operating under fear, Lee, you know that?”

“That’s not true.” She glances back at me. “Mitch, we can go back to China together when the kids are older.” The desperation in her voice proves his point. “But right now, we need more time to focus on piecing our lives together—to focus on us.”

“Lee,” I whisper, pulling her in. “I’m still going. I have to. This is something for me. I need to break this mental hold it has and come back on my own terms.”

Her lips part as if she’s about to say something then aborts the effort. Lee is willing to rearrange the ladder of her existence, and I’ve just removed the ground beneath her. I hate this. I hate this feeling. I hate destroying Max, Lee, Stella, and my mother.

“You’re nothing but a fucking bastard, Townsend.” Max gets up from the table. “You’ve got her right where you want her. Hope you’re happy. If you do have the misfortune of rotting away in some detention center again you can always look back on how you cracked Lee’s heart in two just for the hell of it this time.” He knocks back his chair and heads inside. Lee and I watch as he snatches his keys off the counter. A few moments later the front door slams like a gunshot.

“I’m going after him.” I give Lee a quick kiss before pushing through the sand and heading into the darkness.

I need Max to be there for Lee again.

I want him to.

Max

Headlights trail me all the way to Hudson’s. It’s either Mitch, or Mitch and Lee, either of those two in combination or without. I pull onto the weed-laden front yard and dig inside the dashboard for a flashlight.

Got it.

I click it on and off, but it’s dead. Figures.

A truck pulls alongside me. Its just Mitch, and I’m a little relieved by this. I’m not ready to deal with Lee and her unpopular decision. My gut wrenched just listening to her. I almost hurled as I got up to leave, and I should have—projected it all at Mitch.

I roll down the passenger window. “You got a flashlight?” I ask before he has a chance to get out of his truck. It looks like a major deal, the way he’s barely moving. He dives into the center council and plucks one out.

Score two for Mitch tonight.

I hop out and snatch it from him, don’t wait for him to crawl out of the truck. He’ll catch up eventually.

Lights are on inside the house. Hudson’s truck is parked high on the driveway. Glad to know he’s home, but I’m not up for any brotherly bonding unless, of course, he’s in the shed, high as a kite.

“Where we going?” Mitch struggles to keep up. I think he’s limping now, too. Perfect. I’m sure Lee will want to coddle the hell out of him, kiss all of his mother fucking boo-boos so long as he stays on U.S. soil.

“Keep it down. You in a hurry to show my brother his handy work?”

“Knew it.”

I crack open the door to the shed and hold it open while Mitch gimps in.

“Is this where you’re going to finish the job?” Mitch settles inside as I do a clean sweep of the counter and spot a tall, metal canister.