Rapture (Fallen Angels #4)(58)
Author: J.R. Ward

There was a long pause. “You want to tell me what you were so upset about just now.”

“I don’t think you’d believe me.”

She laughed a little. “After the last day and a half, I’m more likely to, trust me.”

“Why?”

“Everything feels…wrong. I mean, it’s just been a weird ride, you know.” She stared at him as if she were taking his temperature, his blood pressure, and his heart rate from across the room. “Talk to me, Matthias. You gotta open up—and if you can’t give me your memories, just tell me where you are.”

Closing his eyes, he felt as though he were boxed in, unable to answer, but incapable of ignoring her.

Finally, he murmured, “What would you say if I told you I believe in Hell. And not from a religious standpoint, but because I’d been there—and I think I was sent back here to do something.” Man, she was quiet. “I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to find it out. Maybe it’s a second chance—maybe it’s…something else.”

Cue even more of the silence.

Lifting his lids, he measured her. “I know it sounds crazy, but…I woke up naked on Jim’s grave, and I think I was put there. Everything before that is a blank, and yet I have this sense that I’m suppose to do something, that there is purpose in my being here…and that I don’t have forever.”

Mels pushed her hair back and cleared her throat. “The blank part is because you’ve got amnesia.”

“Or maybe it’s because I’m not supposed to remember. I swear…I’ve been to Hell. I was trapped there with these countless other people in a prison where all there was…was suffering. Forever.” He rubbed his sternum, and then left his hand where it was, over his heart. “I know it here, in my chest. Just like I know that you and I were supposed to meet the night we did, and we’re supposed to be together right now. And yeah, that’s nuts, but if the afterlife doesn’t exist, why do so many people believe it does?”

Mels shook her head. “I don’t know the answer to that.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

The longer she didn’t reply, the more he knew he’d pushed her too far…except then she smiled in a sad way.

“My father believed in Heaven and Hell. And not just in theory. Kind of ironic, given how he ran his life. Then again, perhaps he felt like he was personally in charge of the ‘wrath of God’ side of things on earth.”

“He was a churchgoer?”

“Every Sunday. Like clockwork. Maybe he thought it would get him off the hook for some of his more…shall we say, physical corrections of behavior.”

“Nothing does that.”

As her eyes shot to his, he wanted to curse. Way to go—making it sound like her pops was in the basement. “What I mean is—”

“He did a lot of good things, too. Saved women and children from horrible situations, protected the innocent, made sure people got what they deserved.”

“That should work in his favor, then.” Lame. So lame. “Look, I don’t mean to suggest—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not. I don’t know what I’m saying.” He put his palms up. “Don’t listen to me. It was just…a shitty nightmare—yeah, nothing but that, and I don’t know…a goddamn thing.”

Liar. Such a liar. But the subtle signs of relief in her, from the easing of her shoulders to the way she released her breath low and slow, told him it was worth it. One hundred percent.

“His name was Thomas,” she said abruptly. “Everyone called him ‘Carmichael,’ though. He meant the world to me—he was everything I looked up to. Everything I want to be—God, I don’t know why I’m talking about this.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly—because he was hoping that if he didn’t make a lot of noise, she would keep talking.

No such luck. She stopped, and he was surprised by how much he wanted her to go on. Hell, he’d take any kind of conversation: her grocery list, her thoughts on air pollution, whether she was a Democrat or a Republican…the theory of relativity.

But man, details of her past? Her parents? That was true gold.

“What about your mom?”

“I’m living with her, actually—since he passed. It’s…kind of strained. I had so much more in common with him. With her? I feel like a bull in a china shop. She’s nothing like he was.”

“Maybe that’s why they worked. Opposites attract and all that.”

“I don’t know.”

“How’d he…”

“Die? In a car wreck. He was in a squad car on a chase, and the perpetrator’s vehicle blew a tire. Dad swerved to avoid hitting them, lost traction himself, and ended up slamming into a parked utility trailer. They had to cut his body out of the driver’s seat.”

“I’m…so sorry.”

“Me, too. I miss him every day, and even though he’s gone, I’m still trying to impress him. It’s nuts.”

“I think he would be proud of you.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure of that. Caldwell is a small pond.”

“It’s the one he played in.”

“Not as a low-level reporter, though.”

“Well, considering the way you’ve treated me, how could anyone not feel right about the way you turned out? You have been…really good to a stranger.”

Mels stared across the bed at him. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

There was a long pause. “You don’t feel like a stranger to me.”

“It’s the same for me,” he said softly. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”

“You don’t have any memory.”

“I don’t need specifics on this one.”

She looked down at her hands again, at those blunt nails. “Listen, I need you to tell me about that gun—”

“Like I said, I got it from Jim, when I was at the garage to see him. I took it because I didn’t feel safe being unarmed.”

“So Heron is alive, and I’m right that the twin thing’s a lie.” Her eyes met his. “I need to know.”

He rubbed his face. “Yeah, it is—but let me be clear. His reasons for playing dead are his problem, not mine. I’m not involved in that shit, and it’s going to stay that way.”