'A week in the hospital. A scar to remind me.'
They were silent for a while.
Beyond the drapes, beyond the leaded windows, the night wind coughed.
'I don't know what to say,' Tony said.
'Tell me you love me.'
'I do.'
'Tell me.'
'I love you.'
'I love you, Tony.'
He kissed her.
'I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone,' she said. 'In just a week, you've changed me forever.'
'You're damned strong,' he said admiringly.
'You give me strength.'
'You had plenty of that before I came along.'
'Not enough. You give me more, Usually ... just thinking about that day he shot me ... I get upset, scared all over again, as if it just happened yesterday. But I didn't get scared this time. I told you all about it, and I was hardly affected. You know why?'
'Why?'
'Because all the terrible things that happened in Chicago, the shooting and everything that came before it, all of that is ancient history now. None of it matters any more. I have you, and you make up for all the bad times. You balance the scales. In fact, you tip the scales in my favor.'
'It works both ways, you know, I need you as much as you need me.'
'I know. That's what makes it so perfect.'
They were silent again.
Then she said, 'There's another reason that those memories of Chicago don't scare me any more. I mean, besides the fact that I've got you now.'
'What's that?'
'Well, it has to do with Bruno Frye. Tonight I began to realize that he and I have a lot in common. It looks like he endured the same sort of torture from Katherine that I got from Earl and Emma. But he cracked, and I didn't. That big strong man cracked, but I held on. That means something to me. It means a lot. It tells me that I shouldn't worry so much, that I should not be afraid of opening myself to people, that I can take just about anything the world throws at me.'
'That's what I told you. You're strong, tough, hard as nails,' Tony said.
'I'm not hard. Feel me. Do I feel hard?'
'Not here,' he said.
'What about here?'
'Firm,' he said.
'Firm isn't the same as hard.'
'You feel nice.'
'Nice isn't the same as hard either.'
'Nice and firm and warm,' he said.
She squeezed him.
'This is hard,' she said, grinning.
'But it's not hard to make it soft again. Want me to show you?'
'Yes,' she said. 'Yes. Show me.'
They made love again.
As Tony filled her up and explored her with long silken strokes, as waves of pleasure crashed through her, she was sure that everything would be all right. The act of love reassured her, gave her tremendous confidence in the future. Bruno Frye had not come back from the grave. She wasn't being stalked by a walking corpse. There was a logical explanation. Tomorrow they would talk to Dr. Rudge and Rita Yancy, and they would learn what lay behind the mystery of the Frye look-alike. They would uncover enough information and proof to help the police, and the double would be found, arrested. The danger would pass. Then she would always be with Tony, and Tony with her, and then nothing really bad could happen. Nothing could hurt her. Neither Bruno Frye nor anyone else could hurt her. She was happy and safe at last.
Later, as she lay on the edge of sleep, a sharp crash of thunder filled the sky, rolled down the mountains, into the valley, and over the house.
A strange thought flashed through her mind: The thunder is a warning. It's an omen. It's telling me to be careful and not to be so damned sure of myself.
