500 Word Challenge
Word Count: 505
“What was I thinking?” Colton demanded as he paced his office.
The problem was, he hadn’t thought, just acted.
The hours after the terrorist attack were fuzzy, jumbled. He remembered clearly the minute they spent standing before the chaplain, Renee shaking from reaction and stress. He hadn’t been much better. The nurse had jabbed him with a needle the instant after he had signed the license, pushing him down onto a narrow cot.
He’d called Mancini for a ride. The man had let Renee into the car without a blink, helping her sit groggy with pain medication and shock. Colton hadn’t been much better, sitting and staring blankly at the chauffeur as they drove the thirty miles back to his house.
And now he had a wife.
A very legal wife.
Who was sleeping in the room just above this one.
Colton rubbed his face tiredly. It was late. He’d spent hours on the phone, assuring his shareholders and investors he was still alive.
His stocks had plummeted then swung up on the hint of his death. They were still fluctuating wildly, the entire market dipping and rising sporadicly. It would take a few days, maybe even a week for it to calm down. The instability of the global market in general didn’t help.
He had one more call to make. He glanced at the clock, hoping he could put it off because of the hour.
He had her number half dialed when he stopped short.
Why was he calling her? To tell her he was married and they couldn’t date anymore?
But he wasn’t really married. It wasn’t like Renee and he had any sort of understanding. Did she have a boyfriend? She hadn’t mentioned it. But then it wasn’t really any of his business.
He scowled. Yes, it was. She was his wife. She belonged to him.
“Whoa, okay, hold on.” He said to himself, setting the phone down. He dragged his hands through his hair, trying to order his thoughts.
He needed to go to bed. He needed to rest and deal with this in the morning.
Fate intervened.
His cell rang, chirping at him.
He swore as he checked the number. It was her.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Colt? Oh, thank god! Why haven’t you called me? Where have you been? On the news, they said-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said soothingly. “I’m fine.”
“Are you hurt?” she demanded.
“A little.”
“Are you at home? I’m coming over.”
“No!” Colton sighed at the silence on the other end of the line. “Sorry, Felicia. It’s just…I’m tired. I’ve been wrestling shareholders all day and…”
“Don’t worry, Colt, you’ll get lots of rest,” she purred at him. He closed his eyes, wishing he could go back and get blown up anyway. Or brain dead. Or missing some limbs. Anything but being exactly in this situation right now.
“Felicia, no.”
“Why not?” she demanded, offended now.
“Look, its complicated.”
“How?” She was clearly completely confused. “I’m in Madrid. I’ll hop taxi and-”
“I’m married.”
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