And as she continued to cry, he wondered if that would ever be true.
74
“I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life,” Beth said.
They were back in her hotel room now, and she didn’t seem to be able to look him in the eye. She stood by the window, staring out at the courtyard, silhouetted against a darkening sky.
She looked waiflike, vulnerable. But now that her headache had cleared and she’d regained her mental faculties, she sounded exactly like the hardened prosecutor she once was.
“I’m lucky that poor guard didn’t have me arrested.”
“It’s not like you jumped up on a table and did a striptease,” Vargas said. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t the one wandering the streets like a crazy woman.”
Vargas sighed. She had a point.
On the walk back, he’d been trying to figure out the best thing to do-what was best for her — and he’d come to only one conclusion.
“Listen, Beth. Maybe I should take you back to the clinic.”
She turned, looking at him now. “Forget it.”
“You’re not well,” he said. “And as much as I hate to say it, you need supervision. God knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t found you.”
“I won’t go back. You can leave me here if you want to, but I won’t go back.”
“You aren’t safe here. Besides, I’m not leaving you alone. Not again.”
“I’m alone in that clinic, aren’t I? My parents are dead; my sister’s gone; my cheating bastard of an ex-husband cringes every time I call him…I’ve got no one, Nick. Do you know what it’s like to have no one?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then don’t make me go back there,” she said. “I’m getting better. I can feel it. And if a headache starts to come on, you can lock me in the goddamn bathroom. I don’t care.”
He moved to her.
“Look,” he said. “You barely know me. I’m not good at being responsible for people. I’m not even good at taking care of myself.”
“You found me, didn’t you? You kept me out of trouble.”
“I got lucky. We both did. But how can I pursue this thing if I always have to keep an eye on you?”
She paused. “So then I’m a burden, is that it?”
He didn’t want to tell her “yes.” He didn’t even want to be thinking it, but the answer must have been plain on his face, because her eyes grew hot and she pushed past him.
“Fine,” she said. “Screw you.”
He grabbed her arm as she passed. “Beth, wait-”
But she pulled away from him and spun, her eyes burning now. “For what? I don’t need you; I don’t need anyone. I’m sick and tired of everyone coddling me. I just want…” She paused again, trying to control her anger. “I just want to remember. Why can’t I fucking remember?”
Then the tears came again and Vargas moved in close, once again pulling her into his arms. He’d only just met this woman, yet he felt as if he understood her better than anyone he’d ever known.
He felt sorry for her, but it wasn’t pity that drove him. He wasn’t sure what it was.
And before he could catch himself, he placed his hand on her head, against her scar, wanting more than anything to draw the pain out of her.
Then he bent down and kissed her cheek.
“I’m a fool,” he said. “I shouldn’t even have suggested taking you back. We’re in this together now. And I’ll help you remember. I promise.”
She brought her arms up around him then and turned her face toward his, pulling him into an embrace, kissing him. And as he felt the heat of her breath, Vargas thought: This is it; this is that magical movie moment I’ve been waiting for all my life.
Only it was real.
And the next thing he knew, they were pulling their clothes off and climbing onto her bed, and Vargas felt exhilarated and guilty at the same time, thinking he shouldn’t be taking advantage of her vulnerability, her illness, but not wanting to stop.
She didn’t seem to want to, either. Pulling him toward her, she gently touched the bandage on his shoulder, then kissed him again, using her tongue this time.
And there was an urgency in the kiss-a need-that neither of them could or wanted to fight.
75
She couldn’t explain it, wasn’t sure why now and never with Peter, but the moment Nick pushed himself inside of her, his strong hands cupping her thighs, she felt something she’d never felt before.
It was as if his every kiss, every caress, every flick of the tongue had prepared her for just this moment-yet she wasn’t prepared, and the rush of pleasure that consumed her was unexpectedly exquisite.
All the muscles in her body seemed to tighten and she had this sudden, intense urge to pee. And when she let it loose-couldn’t stop herself from letting it loose-a wave of electricity rolled through her, triggering tiny implosions inside her head, followed by a bigger, all-consuming burst of pure ecstasy.
And as she came, a long, guttural moan rose from inside her, and all at once she understood what Jen had been talking about so incessantly for so many years, had constantly been in search of.
Why it had eluded Beth for so long was anyone’s guess, but this new sensation surely had a lot to do with the man who was inside of her right now.
Not just her body, but inside her mind.
It had a lot to do with how she felt about him. But how exactly did she feel?
He was right; she barely knew him. But a connection had been made, and why should she try to analyze it?
As he worked his way toward his own burst of ecstasy, she helped him along, moving her hips and her muscles, squeezing him until he finally came, throbbing inside her, releasing himself, then collapsing against her as the last of his energy drained away.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, listening instead to the soft syncopation of their beating hearts, their ragged breaths.
And all at once Beth felt as if she wasn’t alone, that she’d never been alone. That this man had somehow been a part of her for as long as she had lived.
A part of her heart. Her mind.
Her body. Her soul.
Vargas lay still, not wanting to spoil the moment, wanting to stay inside of her as long as he possibly could. But after a while, he had no choice, so he pulled away and lay beside her, reaching a hand out to stroke her, brushing his fingers across the scars on her chest.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t protest.
The wounds were completely healed, yet they looked so painful. So raw. And he suddenly remembered the pain in his own shoulder, which had miraculously disappeared as they made love.
Beth turned to face him then, a drowsy smile on her lips, and as he looked into her eyes he wondered how anyone could be so achingly beautiful.
So perfectly fragile.
This is all happening too fast, he thought.
But it felt right somehow. Like it was meant to be.
There is no luck, Mr. Blister had told him. Only destiny.
Maybe he was right about that.
After a while, Beth said, “That was unexpected. So what happens now?”
“I think we got something wrong. We may have to try again.”
She laughed. “That was about as right as I’ve ever gotten it. But practice makes perfect.”
“So they say. But I have a feeling that isn’t what you were asking.” He paused. “I meant what I said about not taking you back.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Unfortunately, that creates a dilemma.”
“What do you mean?”
He told her about his upcoming meeting with Little Fina and Ortiz’s promise to pick him up at eleven forty-five.
“No dilemma,” Beth said. “I’ll just go with you.”
“Probably not a good idea. These aren’t friendly people and they won’t be expecting you.”