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She smiled as she thought of Grandma Colleen and got down to sketching again. Even though she was no longer in this world, just the memories of late-night talks with Granny strengthened her resolve to do more with her life. Rory just wished that she had such a strong resolve twenty-four hours a day.
She was lost in sketching and thinking up a name for the character when the rai
n started lashing down. Nothing like a long, deep sleep in the rain to rejuvenate the body and the mind, she thought to herself as she got up from her desk to head to her bedroom.
Her footsteps echoed around the huge, Victorian-style house where every rustle of the wind sounded like reverberating waves of the ocean. Rory wrapped herself in a comfy nightgown and was about to get in bed when she felt the floor shake and heard a loud booming noise, like that of a bomb exploding.
Chapter 49
Arsen felt like he often did after a very heavy workout in the gym. Except this was much worse, as every single muscle in his body ached more like he had been beaten with a club. He wasn’t even sure whether he was alive or dead. The sound of whirling winds still surrounded him, and he felt a trickle make its way down his face. Water, or maybe blood? His vision was limited to the blur that was in front of his eyes.
Am I dead?
The words echoed in his head. Along with the sound of his favorite Sinatra song coming from somewhere far away.
Am I really dead? he asked himself again. Arsen tried to lift up his body, but he struggled. Raising his head, he saw a soft light. Suddenly through the light, he saw a young woman with long hair and a glowing face extend her hand to him.
Is that the angel that is supposed to come and take me to the beyond? Is that the light at the end of the tunnel?
The thought made him feel strangely relieved. Arsen wondered if this is what everyone who overdosed on drugs and was pronounced clinically dead for minutes talked about when they were resuscitated.
Is this how the story of Arsen Ford ends?
Arsen felt numb. Not remorseful, not content, but emotionless. He was surprised by his own lack of reaction, so he shut his eyes, willing himself to pass on to the other side.
“Hey?… Hey!” the woman shouted. Arsen opened his eyes and rubbed them gently. For an angel, her voice is kind of harsh. He’d expected an angel to have a silky voice, like that of a vintage harp.
“Hey!… Dammit. Lemme call the cops,” she shouted.
All of his senses came rushing back to him as he heard the word cops. In a split second, everything came back to him—rain—Ferrari, Jack Daniels—DUI. Fuck. He forced himself up and realized that he was partially trapped under the airbag that had deployed upon impact.
He stretched his hand out of the window and motioned for the woman to stop. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with cops. Especially when neither his manager nor his lawyer were present. He’d have to think on his feet for a way out of the situation.
“Help me.” He motioned for her to come closer and could sense her reluctance at this request. “Just open the door from the outside.” He tried to speak loudly. She was slender and Arsen wasn’t even sure if she could pull him out of the car if she had to.
Arsen cleared his throat and said out loud, “Just pull me out.” Through the streetlight that blinded him, he could see the woman reluctantly make her way toward him.
She slowly opened the door and he extended his hand toward her. It hurt as numb muscles awoke in his body.
“I’m not sure I can do this.” She hesitated. At least she was contemplating helping him.
“You can. Just take my hand and give a pull,” Arsen said with his eyes half closed. A long forgotten warmth curled through him as her hand clasped his. Arsen pushed against the steering wheel with his other hand and threw his body out of the car. With a thud he landed on the ground, right on top of the soft curvy body of the woman that he had mistaken for an angel.
His eyes looked into hers and Arsen studied her face as if she were the only thing he wanted to look at ever again. The distance between them was temptingly close, and there was heat in the air that was warmed by their bodies, moistened by the rain. Adrenaline spiked in his body, the intimacy of skin touching skin making the feeling unbearable.
She was all woman, a fiery petite storm, that turned slowly in his grasp. A bolt of desire rushed through him, igniting in him a long-forgotten fire, the scent of her feminine body encompassing his senses, and a thin nightgown all that laid between him and her body. For a moment Arsen forgot about it all, choosing instead to stare deep into the most expressive eyes that he had ever seen. Her hand pushing against his chest brought him back to the present. She was scowling.
“Hey!” Even though she was loud, Arsen could tell that under normal circumstances, she was a soft-spoken person. As a musician, he had come to notice such things about people. There was rarely a sound that escaped his trained ears. He rolled off of her, landing on the soft ground next to them.
The woman shot up like an arrow and stood stiffly, clearly not pleased with being trapped under him. Arsen just held up his hands in surrender, a wicked smile forcing its way to his lips. The woman just stood with her hands on her hips. Arsen composed his thoughts and readied himself to deal with the situation.
Dizziness threatened to overtake him as he stood up and looked around. He’d crashed the expensive Ferrari onto the peripheral wall of the house and there it lay, lodged right next to the small gate. Fuck, this is the last goddamn thing I need. Rage overcame him and he kicked the car hard. The pain that shot through his ankle was severe.
“Fuck.” He let out a loud grunt.
The only response he got was the sound of the car stereo kicking in. Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, sang Sinatra. The timing made him laugh. The irony of the situation was not lost on him.
Neither was the fact that by some miracle, he had escaped a big disaster today. Anything could’ve happened, but someone above was clearly watching out for me.
