like anxiety and hope. She said it again anyway: “I really do love
you.”
He reached for her hand, smiling at her with obvious pleasure.
You’re wonderful, Holly.”
Which was not exactly I-love-you-too-Holly, but that was okay. She
didn’t harbor romance-novel expectations. It was not going to be that
simple. Being in love with Jim Ironheart was like being in love
simultaneously with the tortured Max de Winter from Rebecca, Superman,
and jack Nicholson in any role he’d ever played. Though it wasn’t easy,
it wasn’t dull either.
“The thing is, when I was paying my motel bill yesterday morning and you
were sitting in the car watching me, I realized you hadn’t said you
loved me. I was going off with you, putting myself in your hands, and
you hadn’t said the words. But then I realized I hadn’t said them
either, I was playing it just as cool, holding back and protecting
myself Well, I’m not holding back any more, I’m walking out on that
highwire with no net below-and largely because you told me you loved me
last night. So you better have meant it.”
A quizzical expression overtook him.
She said, “I know you don’t remember saying it, but you did. You have
problems with the L’ word. Maybe because you lost your folks when you
were so young, you’re afraid to get close to anyone for fear of losing
them, too. Instant analysis. Holly Freud. Anyway, you did tell me you
loved me, and I’ll prove it in a little while, but right now, before I
get into this mess, I want you to know I never imagined I could feel
about anyone the way I feel about you. So if whatever I say to you in
the next few minutes is hard to take, even impossible to take, just know
where it comes from, only from love, from nothing else.”
He stared at her. “Yeah, all right. But Holly, this”
“You’ll get your turn.” She leaned across the seat, kissed him, then
pulled back.
“Right now, you’ve got to listen.”
She told him everything she had theorized, why she had crept out of the
mill while he’d been asleep-and why she had returned. He listened with
growing disbelief, and she repeatedly cut off his protests by lightly
squeezing his hand, putting a hand to his lips, or giving him a quick
kiss. The answer-tablet, which she produced from the back seat, stunned
him and rendered his objections less vehement.
BECAUSE HE LOOKS LIKE MY FATHER WHOM I FAILED TO SAVE. His hands shook
as he held the tablet and stared at that incredible line. He turned
back to the other surprising messages, repeated page after page-HE LOVES
YOU HOLLY. HE WILL KILL YOU HOLLY-and the tremors in his hands became
even more severe.
“I would never harm you,” he said shakily, staring down at the tablet.
“Never.”
“I know you’d never want to.”
Dr. Jekyll had never wanted to be the murderous Mr. Hyde.
“But you think I sent you this, not The Friend.”
“I know you did, Jim. It feels right.”
“So if The Friend sent it but the The Friend is me, a part of me, then
you believe it really says I love you Holly.'”
“Yes,” she said softly.
He looked up from the tablet, met her eyes. “If you believe the
I-love-you part, why don’t you believe the I-will-kill-you part?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I do believe a small, dark part of you wants
to kill me, yes.”
He flinched as if she had struck him.
She said, “The Enemy wants me dead, it wants me dead real bad, because
I’ve made you face up to what’s behind these recent events, brought you
back here, forced you to confront the source of your fantasy.”
He started to shake his head in denial.
But she went on: “Which is what you wanted me to do. It’s why you drew
me to you in the first place.”
“No. I didn’t”
“Yes, you did.” Pushing him toward enlightenment was extremely
dangerous. But that was her only hope of saving him.
“Jim, if you can just understand what’s happened, accept the existence
of two other personalities, even the possibility of their existence,