Midnight Promises. Eileen Wilks
pulled the last of the books down and set Early Childhood Development in the box with the others. She straightened, grimacing. Her ribs were still sore. She wouldn’t be able to carry any of the boxes she was busy filling, but her brothers would be down in a couple of days to help.
She looked around at the clutter of boxes and clothes filling her formerly tidy apartment. So many dreams were being packed away along with her textbooks. But she was still going to teach, she assured herself. Just because Denver hadn’t worked out didn’t mean she couldn’t still be a teacher. It was all she’d ever wanted.
No, she thought. Be honest. Teaching wasn’t all she’d wanted. But it was an attainable goal, unlike the foolish longing that was sending her away. The doorbell rang. She threaded her way through the boxes to the door, wondering which of her friends from school had dropped by. She’d be glad of some company. Packing was a melancholy business.
But it was an old friend, not a new one, she opened the door to.
His hair was shaggy, his shirt was wrinkled and his jeans were old. He looked wonderful. She wished with all her heart he was still on the other side of the world. “Jack! I—I wasn’t expecting you. I didn’t think you were due back for another few weeks.” She’d been counting on that.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“Packing.” She turned away, going back inside. “As I’m sure you can see.” She hadn’t expected him to be angry. It disconcerted her.
“Dammit, Annie. Why didn’t you tell me?” He followed her into her apartment that had pleased her so much when she first moved in, the first place of her own she’d ever had. The complex had been brand-new then. After living in an old house all her life, followed by an old dorm while she was at college, she’d thought she would enjoy the newness. That was yet another thing she’d been wrong about. After a while the new apartment had seemed cold and impersonal instead of fresh and exciting.
She moved to an open box, and began wrapping a glass bowl in newspaper. “You weren’t here, Jack. How could I tell you?”
“Your brother managed. He called me the day before yesterday. I chewed him out for not calling me sooner and got here as quickly as I could.”
She stopped, her back to him. “Which brother? Charlie?”
“Of course. Ben doesn’t like me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around, studying her face intently. “Aw, hell. Annie.” He lifted a gentle hand to her cheek.
She managed not to flinch. The bruising had faded, and the swelling was mostly gone. But it was still tender. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t look it.” He sounded grim. “And if you were really okay, deep inside, you wouldn’t be moving back home. What happened?”
“I thought Charlie told you.” She moved away, unable to bear his scrutiny for long, and tucked the bowl into a box.
“He said you were beaten. Two weeks ago. By a couple of punks at your school.” The words came out flat, staccato. “And you’ve quit your job because of it and plan to move back to Highpoint.”
The attack wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to move home, but it had clarified some things for her. “That’s pretty much what happened, though the attack wasn’t the only reason I quit. I haven’t been happy here.”
“I know you haven’t been crazy about the large classes and all the paperwork, but I hate to see you chuck it all in. After all the years you worked to get your teaching certificate, it doesn’t make sense!”
“I’m not planning to give up teaching. I just don’t want to do it here. Not anymore.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still homesick.” He shook his head. “You’ve been away from that stupid town for years now, what with college and then your job here. You can’t still be pining for Highpoint.”
She felt a familiar pang. Jack would never understand how deep her roots went in the small town where she’d grown up, the town he’d been only too happy to leave after high school. He didn’t understand roots. “That’s part of it, too. But only part. I don’t like the big city, Jack. You know that. And…” She hesitated. But he was her friend. He would understand. “I just don’t feel safe here anymore.”
“I hate what happened to you. I really hate that it happened while I was gone. If I’d been here—”
“It still would have happened. But I’m okay now. A little sore still, but everything is mending. Only…you know how news reports always say, ‘the victim was treated and released from the hospital’? That’s what happened. Nothing broken, just a cracked rib and a lot of bruises. But I always thought that ‘treated and released’ made it sound as if no one was really hurt.” She tried to smile. “Wrong!”
He frowned. “Would you quit trying to be brave and plucky? It’s annoying the hell out of me.”
That surprised a laugh out of her—which she suspected was what he’d intended. They looked at each other for a moment in silence before he spoke again, his voice carefully level.
“Charlie said that the attack wasn’t sexual.”
“I wasn’t raped. I—oh, good grief.” Her eyes irritated her by filling with tears. For days after the attack she’d wanted nothing more than to have Jack there, holding her. But he’d been in Paraguay. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The doctor said it could have been a lot worse. He said I was l-lucky.”
“The doctor’s an idiot. No one needs that sort of luck. Come here.” He put his arm around her and urged her over to the couch, which was covered with neat piles of clothing she had yet to pack. He dumped one of piles on the floor.
“Jack! My clothes—”
“Never mind your clothes.” He tugged her down onto the couch beside him. “Annie, I’m so sorry. So terribly sorry.”
He just held her then, unspeaking, his body warm and hard and comforting. She rested her head on his shoulder and let his warmth soothe her, let herself cherish this moment. She’d needed this, needed it badly. Too badly. That—although she would never tell anyone—was the main reason she’d decided to leave Denver. She couldn’t afford to need Jack Merriman.
After a moment she made herself straighten. She didn’t pull away entirely, though. He still had one arm around her. His body was still warm and solid along her side. “I really am all right. I had no idea I was such a wimp until this happened.”
“You’re not a wimp.” There was a strange look in his eyes, one she didn’t recognize. “Can you tell me how it happened? What were you doing at the school in the summer?”
“Teaching summer school, of course. I’d stayed late grading papers, but it should have been okay. I mean, I’d done everything right.” That was what kept eating at her. She’d done everything right, and still she hadn’t been safe. “I was parked near the door in a well-lit area, and there were people around. Not a lot, but the kids in the theater group had been rehearsing and were leaving at the same time. The security guard was there. I thought I was okay. Even when the two of them came up to me, I thought I was safe enough.”
His mouth tightened. “There were two of them?”
She nodded. “One grabbed at my purse. I yelled at him. I was so mad…I should have just let him have the purse, but I was mad, not scared. I—I knew him. He was one of my students.”
Jack stroked her hair. “That made it worse, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” She blinked the sting out of her eyes. “He yelled back at me, called me filthy names. Then h-his friend slapped me. I wasn’t expecting that, but I still wasn’t scared, not really. I hit him back. I didn’t think. I just hit him, punched him right in the stomach. I hit him hard, too. But he was high on something. He didn’t feel it.