Chapter Ten Storms #2
“I’m not an unreasonable person just because I have expectations and boundaries,” I say, definitely thinking about the frying pan meeting Danny’s posh, polished face.
“Whatever you say, love. Keys?”
“Don’t call me love. You can’t love someone if you’re betraying their trust,” I reach into my pocket and toss them to him. “Is that a loaner?”
Daniel pulls a few things from the rental to the rear of the Mercedes, still speaking as if we’re old friends. “Yes, rented from the Binghamton Airport. I’ll leave it here for you, if you could pop it back there for me sometime this week? Keys are in the ignition.”
“Uh. Yes. I guess I could do that.” I shrug. He’s not asking me to leave the lodge, and he’s not demanding I pay for it, so I guess I can drive his rental back to Binghamton, which is one of the closest good-sized cities to Pine Ridge.
“Lovely.” With that, Daniel hops into the car—and drives forward—towards the garden.
“Hey!” I scream, running off the porch.
Daniel backs the car around, turning it in a circle that destroys half of my petunias and three hydrangeas.
For a horrifying, deadly second, I think he’s going to back over Duncan and destroy the evidence of his theft.
But he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dent the Mercedes, I realize.
He would have run it down in the rental. Still, I can’t let him take Duncan.
Why didn’t I take the heartstone the second he said he’d make it? What if Daniel intends to smash the statue by hand? What if he grabs the shovel that’s left by the potting soil and starts beating Duncan to pieces?
I run for all I’m worth and tackle Daniel the second he opens the door. “Leave him alone!” I scream.
“June! What the fuck is wrong with you? I have a private plane waiting at Binghamton to take this bit of statuary back to Scotland. I was able to put off that rabid councilwoman who insisted the statue was taken out of the country. I’ve told her it was all a mix-up, that the stupid snitch sent a copy of some other statue, but I’ve only got until tomorrow to prove that the genuine article never left the country! ”
“I don’t care. You can’t have him.” I put myself between Daniel and Duncan, counting down the minutes that feel like hours. It has to be near eight-thirty. “What time is it?” I demand.
“What? Move!”
“No, he’s mine, Daniel. There’s something about this statue you don’t understand. He’s... It’s... I—”
I don’t get a chance to finish. Daniel moves slowly away, back towards his car. “If you don’t let me load this up,” he says, pulling a flatbed dolly from the back, unfolding what I thought was a black rolling suitcase until its true nature is revealed, “then I’m going to back it over that eyesore.”
“No. You won’t.” I hold my ground. “It’d scratch your car.”
“The car is worth fifty grand, the deal is worth seventeen million pounds! Which do you think I’m going to risk?” Daniel laughs, then suddenly swings the dolly towards me, the hard metal wheels just barely grazing my jaw.
I lunge forward, but I’m not prepared for the fact that Daniel, the guy who would cuddle me on the couch as we watched the Sixers, the man who would lovingly feed my champagne-soaked strawberries on Valentine’s Day—would also hit me with the flat of the dolly’s sturdy bed, catching me in the ribs and sending me toppling back, winded and struggling to rise in the soft, wet grass.
“You don’t understand. I love him,” I wheeze.
“Your present, I know. Your last gasp of the good life, Junie,” Daniel scoffs. “Sorry. You could have had it all, if you’d just known how to play the part, keep your nose out, and be the good little wife.”
As I wince and drag myself to my side, it makes more sense than ever.
He didn’t love me. He loved the new position in Philadelphia, and he wanted to get a Philly girl to help him finish the job, to seal the deal and complete the picture.
I was a starter kit to getting in good in a city that loves fiercely, loyally, and too aggressively for our own good.
Then, with his contract secured, he would have molded me into the perfect little wife, just like he said.
Daniel is surprisingly aggressive with the dolly, grunting and hauling, sliding it under Duncan’s feet, wedging it up, and not securing it with straps. My heart is in my throat, afraid he’ll fall and break.
I’ll never get to have that future with him, never tell him I love him, or read the vows he’d write for me.
The sudden burst of adrenaline launches me to my feet. I run after Daniel, screaming like a banshee. “Stop! Stop, can’t you tell? That’s not even the right one!”
For a second, Danny pauses, caught off guard.
Duncan isn’t in the same crouched curl he was on arrival. He now stands tall and proud, chest out, talons clawing an invisible foe, tail lashing. He always is ready to defend—and it’s my turn to defend him, now that he’s helpless.
“H-he’s not the right one,” I repeat. “See? Wrong position. I... I sold the other one. That’s why you can’t have it back. It’s at an antique dealer in town,” I fib.
Daniel looks confused, but then he looks over the statue and shakes his head. “This one is wearing a kilt. You think they have kilted gargoyles just lying about in rural New York? I’m not the idiot you think I am.”
“No, you’re way worse,” I snarl, and lunge, unable to stand upright, but that’s okay—I’m able to use my head like a battering ram, and I aim for Daniel’s middle.
Unfortunately, Daniel skews the dolly into my path, and my head collides with Duncan’s stone ribs. I fall back, blinking at a pattern of red and black fuzz dancing before my eyes.
MY MATE IS FIGHTING for me, and I’m being pushed towards my awakening, jostled and bumped, surrounded by grunts and curses in a voice I vaguely recognize.
When I awaken, the thunder is crashing loudly, and the wind is howling to such a degree that sound can’t carry. That’s all I can figure. Something had to have muffled the noise of my enraged roar.
“What the fuck did she do to the bloody engine?” the driver is muttering as the mountainscape speeds past in a blur of lightning, rain, and blackness.
“What the hell did ye do to my lady?” I demand, clawing my way across the leather seats, thrashing and tearing until I can see the driver’s terrified eyes meet mine in the little mirror dangling above his head.
“Shit!” He yelps, jerking the car to the side of the road, bolting from the car, and sprinting away, looking over his shoulder in horror.
The voice, the muffled, dreamy sequence of events that happened before I awoke, begins to knit itself together.
That’s Daniel. He came across an ocean to get me back, to make sure his little deal went through. My June fought him, fought bravely—and now she’s nowhere in sight.