The week flew by. Friday was there before she knew it. Racing home from work, Elizabeth ran upstairs and immediately jumped in the shower. Scrubbing as fast as she could, a faint ringing reached her ear. Someone was trying to call her but she had no time to jump out and answer it. Shutting the water off, she barely paused. Drying off quickly, she stayed in the bathroom to dry and straighten her hair. The phone rang again. Her leg was bouncing but she couldn’t go with wet hair and needed to finish.
Bounding to the closet, she pulled out one of two black dresses she owned. Slipping it over her head, she adjusted the low V-neck, making sure her breasts and bra were covered. Glancing in a full-length mirror she did a quick turn. It was a simple form-fitting dress with small white polka dots covering it. A little bit of ruching around the waist made her look even thinner than she was, but what woman doesn’t like that? Slipping on a pair of heels, the phone rang again. Hopping on one foot, she struggled to get her second shoe on while trying to get to the phone.
Seeing Claire’s number, she immediately answered it. “Hey I’m coming. I’m leaving right now.”
“Okay, get here quick. You’ll never guess who just showed up.”
Grabbing her keys and her purse, Elizabeth ran down the stairs as fast as she could in heels. Not wanting to disappoint Claire, she asked the obvious question. “Who?”
“That guy from the bar.”
That really didn’t narrow it down. “What guy from the bar?”
“You know,” Claire said. “The hot one. Mr. Blond Bombshell.”
Elizabeth froze. She was halfway out the door but didn’t take another step. Glancing back at the stairs, she actually contemplated not going. “Elizabeth? Elizabeth! Are you still there? You better not have hung up on me!”
“No, no, I’m here. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Hanging up, she didn’t wait for Claire to answer. Locking the house, she dreaded where she had to go that night. She owed it to Nicole to be there though, no matter who else showed up.
The drive to the funeral home took less time than she would have liked. She was even able to find a parking spot quickly. Letting out a sigh, she sat in the car for a minute. This was going to suck, and for a few different reasons. Dragging herself out the car, she shuffled into the funeral home. It felt like the energy had been sucked out of her. Thankfully Claire was waiting outside the room, and seeing her gave Elizabeth a tiny spark of energy.
Claire’s eyes were red and puffy. She’d been crying again. Despite seeing her friend so upset, Elizabeth couldn’t help but glance around nonchalantly, praying that Mr. Clark had already left. It was a typical funeral home. There was a large gathering area in the center surrounded by several smaller rooms on either side where services could be held. Bland off-white walls and cold tile floors were paired with an assortment of bright, fake flower arrangements that seemed too happy for such a solemn occasion. Finally putting her feelings aside, Elizabeth gave Claire a long hug.
“Is Rachel here?”
Shaking her head slowly, Claire wiped her eyes with a crumpled tissue. “No, she left a while ago. She’s pretty distraught over the whole thing.”
Elizabeth was glad Rachel had left. It might be horrible but the last thing she wanted right now was to hear about any philosophical crap. Holding her breath, they entered a very crowded room. She hadn’t realized how many friends Nicole had, but soon noticed that the majority of the people present were getting up in age. They were surely there for her parents.
Claire took a seat in the back of the room where there were few people sitting. Elizabeth stayed with her for several minutes but wanted to see the casket. Chairs were set in rows on either side of the room, leaving only a small aisle in the middle. Inching her way through the crowd, she pushed and squeezed her way to the casket.
It was set on a pedestal lined with flowers at the base. The casket was closed, although that wasn’t surprising. Laid on top was a beautiful bouquet and three kneelers were lined in front of it. Kneeling, Elizabeth folded her hands in front of her mouth. The casket was white with gold trim and there was a blown-up portrait of Nicole in an elaborate gold frame sitting on an easel behind it. She looked young. It must have been a picture from high school, perhaps even her senior year book picture.
Habitually, she said the Lord’s Prayer and then the Hail Mary. It was all too strange. She’d done this very thing only several months earlier for her parents. Being back there, kneeling in front of another closed casket, it just felt wrong. She’d occupied the kneeler long enough, however, and got up to make the difficult trek back to where she had left Claire. Pushing her way through the crowd for a second time, she was dismayed to see Claire’s chair was vacant. Letting out a sigh, she sat silently, waiting for her friend to return.
She watched the door like a hawk, but after a few minutes didn’t see Claire anywhere.
“She left a few minutes ago.”
The voice was as smooth as silk. Without turning around Elizabeth knew who it belonged to. Composing herself, she turned to see Mr. Clark sitting next to her. His gold hair stood in sharp contrast to the black suit he was wearing. He looked nothing short of spectacular. Taking in a deep breath, her shoulders tensed and she had to force a smile before responding. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Catching the inflection in her voice, a large white grin spread across his face. His teeth were so pristine; Elizabeth was convinced that he used to be a model for those teeth-whitening products.
“I was invited by Mrs. Landry.”
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. This wasn’t some sort of party anyone could be invited to. Glaring at him, her hands clinched into fists. Her cheeks were burning and she had to fight back every inclination to tear into him right there.
“You clean up well. I didn’t think you were this attractive when I met you at Caroline’s house.”
Gripping the edge of her chair Elizabeth shot him the evilest look she could muster. He was being plain rude and didn’t seem to care. Smiling, he continued to pester, “She’s such a lovely woman, wouldn’t you agree?”
Looking away, Elizabeth gritted her teeth. “She’s married, you know.”
His smile never faded. “Yes, I know,” he said. “I work with her husband, remember?” Elizabeth didn’t remember. She didn’t care. His personal life didn’t interest her.
“But you…” he continued. “I don’t understand why you work for them. Taking care of livestock, of all things. I was told you have a degree in architecture…”
Glaring at him, Elizabeth couldn’t take it anymore. Shooting to her feet, she glowered down at him. “Mr. Clark, might I suggest something to you?”
Smiling brightly, his eyes gleamed up at her. “And what might that be?”
“Don’t presume so much.”
“I didn’t presume anything,” he said. “I’m merely stating the facts.”
Gripping her purse tightly, she was beyond pleasantries. “Don’t be at the funeral.” Without waiting for a response, Elizabeth turned and stormed out of the wake.
She sped home, she was so mad. She ignored all of the speed limit signs. Storming up to the house, she slammed the door behind her. A cloud of dust flew up from the ground and the glass in the old windows rattled. Storming up the stairs she changed into pajamas and went straight to bed. The nerve of that guy. What he had in looks he lacked in personality and manners.
She had all intentions of going to bed, but sleep evaded her. She tossed and turned half of the night and when she did finally fall asleep, some point after midnight, his face flooded her dreams.
She woke the next morning just as mad as she’d been when she went to bed. She was tired and flustered and on the way to the bathroom she stubbed her toe on the door fame. “Damn it!” Cursing, she limped into the bathroom to get ready. She only had a little over an hour before the funeral, so breakfast was out of the question.
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After fixing her hair quickly and reapplying her makeup, she slipped on the only other black dress she owned. It had spaghetti straps and a corset top so she completed the look with a three-quarter-length shrug. Slipping on a different pair of black heels, she grabbed her purse and walked out the door.
The church the funeral was held at wasn’t as far from her house as the funeral home, but it was still a good distance. She arrived ten minutes early and took a seat in the middle of the church. There were more people today than yesterday, but no sign of him. Good.
The funeral was understandably sad. Probably the saddest she’d ever been to. What made it worse was she was young and hers was a tragic death. Almost everyone was crying at some point, but Elizabeth found herself dry-eyed. She was sad but tears never found her. Even after mass, at the cemetery, she listened solemnly to the priest--but no tears. There were some people who appeared to be crying enough for everyone, though. Glancing around she wondered why some of the women didn’t invest in water proof mascara.
Rachel and Claire stayed next to each through the funeral and at the cemetery. Elizabeth stayed away from them on purpose. She didn’t want to be around anyone. She was still grieving for her parents and starting the process all over again seemed like a daunting prospect. She left the funeral without speaking to anyone or saying goodbye.
Driving around aimlessly for hours, she eventually found herself parked outside her parish church. Getting out of the car she jogged over to the covered area extending from the front doors. It was starting to drizzle and she didn’t want to get her hair wet. Pulling on one of the large doors, the hinges creaked when she entered the building. It was dark and empty. The only light filtering into the space came through the stained-glass windows. It was distorted and painted colored blocks onto the tops of some of the pews and the linoleum floors. Taking a seat, she leaned back onto the wooden seat. It creaked under the weight being placed on it. Closing her eyes the quiet was calming and she soon found herself drifting in and out of a light sleep.
The sound of one of the main doors opening echoed through the church. Cracking her eyes open, she stared at the white vaulted ceiling. Soft footsteps made their way up the aisle, stopping next to where she was sitting. The pew creaked under the weight of its new occupant. Cocking her head, Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. The anger lying dormant inside of her pushed its way back to the surface. Straightening she scowled at him. He just stared straight ahead, however, his eyes locked on the large crucifix hanging on the far wall.
“I don’t like being stalked.”
He didn’t look at her and didn’t try to defend himself. “I don’t particularly care to do the stalking,” he said, “but these are my orders and I intend to follow them.” Finally glancing at her, his face was completely solemn and still. He was serious.
Shaking her head she slowly lost it. Her anger melted away into complete indifference. A smile parted her lips and her stomach shook. She tried to hold back her laughter but couldn’t. The church echoed with laughter but he wasn’t amused. Cocking an eyebrow he stared at her.
“So let me get this straight,” she said. “Someone ‘ordered’ you to stalk me and you’re admitting to it?”
“I’m technically not stalking you,” he said. “I’m just keeping watch over you.”
“What’s the difference?”
Slouching, he looked away. She was stubborn. His usual tactics weren’t working on her, which was beyond frustrating. He had expected this assignment to go a lot smoother, like his last job. Crossing his arms, he contemplated what do to next.
Staring at him, Elizabeth waited for him to do something, anything, but he didn’t. Looking him over, her heart raced. He was wearing a simple white tank top and black running pants. He looked like he had just come from the gym, minus the sweat and the smell. His arms were muscular and she could tell he had a six-pack hiding under his shirt.
Feeling her staring, he looked back at her, locking eyes. He was absolutely radiant. Elizabeth’s heart was racing and her breath grew still. Her insides were a mess. Something in her wanted him, wanted to be with him. She was drawn to him like a magnet, yet not entirely. For how much she was drawn to him, something about him repelled her. He was scary. For how beautiful his eyes were, they were foreboding and something in her screamed to stay away.
Swallowing, she had to force herself to look away. Shaking her head, she stood to leave. Jumping to his feet, he caught her hand. She flinched from his touch, jerking away from him instinctively. Not deterred, he reached for her again, but she backed away.
“There’s a war brewing. I’m here to make sure you’re not harmed.”
Not wanting to be near him any longer she continued out of the pew, heading for the central isle. “I don’t care about the war. It’s half a world away. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Catching up to her, he grabbed her arm. He wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. “No, not human. I’m talking about the angelic and demonic forces.”
Yanking her arm away, she cocked an eyebrow at him. Shaking her head, she stared at the floor. “You’re crazy if you think for one second I’m going to believe that you’re some angel sent down to protect me.”
“I’m not an angel,” he said. “I’m a demon.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She couldn’t do this. Not right now. She didn’t have the energy. Turning, she left without saying a word. She exited the church to the sound of her heels clicking on the floors. Once outside her pace quickened to a slow jog. She dove into the car, locking it the second the door closed behind her. He didn’t come out of the church. Picking up the phone, she contemplated calling the police. Although... to say what? “Hey, 911, I’m at church and there’s a guy here who says he’s a demon. Can you come arrest him?”
No one would believe that. She’d be the one to get arrested. Dropping the phone in her lap, she threw the car into reverse and sped out of the parking lot. She made it home in record time and locked the doors once inside.
No one came down the driveway or fell from the sky. Nothing popped out of the ground or spontaneously combusted. Her nerves were on edge for the rest of the day, but by dinner she had grown complacent again. She convinced herself that everything was back to normal, but isn’t that always the wrong thing to think?
Chapter 5