Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

“Why do you want to see him?”
    My heart shattered. Just like that, it was whole one moment, then in a billion pieces the next. Poof! Dust. Not that it had any right to shatter, but you try reasoning with a heart. It’s impossible. “You’re not Gavon’s girlfriend, are you?”
    “Gavon? No. I took over his business. I am Naomi, the tattoo artist. I am Benedikt’s girlfriend. And you are . . . ?”
    “Fran Ghetti.” Pain seared my soul with such intensity, I had to clutch the side of the trailer to keep from keeling over at her feet.
    “Ah, the former girlfriend.” Her look scalded me up and down with enough acid to peel off at least three layers of skin.
    I made an effort to get hold of myself, and my sanity. “If he’s sleeping, I won’t disturb him.”
    “Benedikt is mine, now. Did he not tell you? Poor little American. Did you believe that he still wants you? Desires you? He does not even think about you. He thinks only of me.”
    Her voice turned suddenly syrupy and sickeningly sweet. It was just what I needed, because her words pulled me out of a massive well of self-pity, and into the land made up of me turning her into a wart-encrusted cockroach. “There’s nothing little about me, chicky. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Ben.”
    She made an annoyed sound, but stood aside. I climbed the steps and edged past her, hardly able to catch my breath, so fast was my heart beating. I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe the proof that was before me. Ben had moved on. He had really moved on. While I’d been spending miserable nights telling myself that I’d gotten just what I wanted, Ben, the bastard, had just blithely gone on with his life.
    I glanced over my shoulder at Naomi. She smiled a slow “I’ve slept with Ben because he’s so over you” smile. “He’s in my bed. He was so exhausted after our night together. He went right to sleep.”
    I turned back toward the door. With every step, the pain in my heart morphed into anger—a fury so hot, I thought I would spontaneously combust by the time I flung open the door.
    “Nrrf?” a voice said from the bed, then yelped as sunlight streamed in around me. “What the hell are you doing, Naomi?”
    The man who rolled over onto his back and sat up, his short hair mussed, his eyes confused and sleepy, brought me to a halt.
    “I just came to tell you that I was here, and I never want to see you again. Not that I had planned on doing that, because I thought Gunter was saying Imogen was in this trailer, not you, but as long as we’re both here, it’s as good a time as any to get a few things off my chest. So I will. I never want to see you again, you two-timing, cheating rat bastard.”
    His eyes widened as they focused on me. “Francesca?”
    I stared at him for a moment, pain and anger roiling around inside me. “I’m so glad to know I was right about freeing us both. I’m delighted to see that it took you absolutely no time to find a replacement for me. I’m nigh on ecstatic that I meant so little to you that you couldn’t wait to screw the first girl you could find!” I ripped off the ring I still wore on my middle finger and threw it at his head. “I’m so happy, I could bloody well burst into a Broadway show tune!”
    “Francesca—”
    “I told her, but she wouldn’t listen to me,” Naomi said from the doorway. “Now do you see, little American? He is mine, not yours. Aren’t you?”
    I saw red as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his mouth. Ben’s eyes were the color of honey oak, and filled with an expression I couldn’t read.
    “Is that true, Ben?” My voice came out croaked and hoarse.
    His lips tightened. “Yes. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you. I just . . . I didn’t expect you to come to Europe for another year.”
    Naomi nibbled on his ear, cooing softly into it. I stared at him for a few seconds, not believing what I was seeing, not understanding the words he spoke. I had left him, I had told him I didn’t want to be his Beloved, and yet somehow, I had remained true to his memory. I hadn’t dated, hadn’t been interested in other men. I hadn’t even seen other men. I had left him, and he had done just what I had wanted him to do—he had got on with his life.
    While I remained in limbo, bound to a man who now didn’t want me.
    Anguish overrode my anger and I choked on the bile triggered by my own hypocrisy. I spun around and ran blindly from the room, the mocking