The Twain Shall Meet

The Twain Shall Meet by Deidre Dalton is Book #3 in the Collective Obsessions Saga.

An innocent meeting as children sparks a fateful yet perilous liaison between Shannon Larkin and Mike Sullivan. Will their romance follow the same tragic path forged by their mutual ancestors Colm and Molly?

From Chapter Nineteen

June 1975

Larkin City, Maine

     SHANNON HAD JUST PUT Angie and Jamie to bed when Scott called at eight-thirty. She raced for the telephone and picked it up on the third ring.
    "Hi kitten," Scott's deep voice gave her a thrill.
    "Hi. How is everything going?"
    Shannon could hear him sigh over the telephone line. "Anita won't last much longer, I'm afraid," he said gravely. "I almost didn't recognize her."
    "Oh, Scott, I'm sorry," Shannon exclaimed. "It must be awful for you."
    "It's not very pleasant," he agreed. "I figured I'd stay on a few days to see how things go. Is that okay with you?"
    "That's fine."
    He cleared his throat. "Anita made a request of me."
    "What?"
    "She asked me to attend her funeral alone."
    Shannon was surprised. "Really? She doesn't want me there?"
    "No."
    "She has a right, I suppose," Shannon admitted. "She is dying, and it will be her funeral."
    "You don't mind?"
    "No. If it were me, I wouldn't want her at my funeral, either."
    He chuckled. "That sounds like you. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow night. Or if I know anything sooner, I'll call then."
    "Okay. I'll be here."
    "I love you, kitten," he said gently. "Think about me tonight in your dreams, will you?"
    "Always."
    "Give my love to the kids, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."
    "Good night, love of my life."
    Scott made a kissing sound over the telephone. "Good night, kitten."
    After she had hung up the telephone, Shannon poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch to watch television. She was sitting only a few minutes when the telephone rang again. Groaning, she went to answer it.
    "Hello."
    "Hi, sis," Sean said to her. "What are you up to?"
    "I'm just watching television."
    "Why don't you come to the mansion?"  Sean suggested. "Liam and I are playing cards. You could join us and spend the night."
    "No, I don't think so," she replied. "I just put the kids to bed, and I don't want to wake them. Besides, I feel like being alone tonight."
    "Are you missing Scott?"
    "Yes. He called a few minutes ago. He told me Anita is really going fast, and that it's only a matter of time before the end comes."
    "I'm sorry to hear that," Sean said sincerely. "Is he going to stay until the end?"
    "Probably," she answered. "She told Scott she didn't want me at the funeral - she only wants him there."
    Sean was surprised. "You're kidding?"
    "No. I suppose she's entitled to her last wish. I won't begrudge her that."
    "I guess you're right," Sean agreed. "Well, if you change your mind, we'll probably be up late playing cards. Liam is kicking my ass. Come anytime you want."
    "Thanks for asking," Shannon said. "But I think I'll just stay home."
    "Okay. Take it easy, sis. Good night."
    "Good night, Sean."
    Shannon returned to the couch and continued to watch television. Eventually she began to doze. It was with some surprise when she awoke to the sounds of someone knocking loudly on the front door. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes. She glanced at the kitchen clock. It was eleven o'clock. Who was knocking at this late hour?
    She walked to the door, thinking it was Sean to keep her company. She flipped on the outside light from a switch on the wall. She unlocked the door, and opened it.
    In a split second, she tried to slam the door shut again, but it was too late. Mike forced his way in, pushing her back into the house. She fell on the floor from the force of his push, sitting stunned. She gazed up at the person she never thought she would see again. He was grinning at her, his hair falling into his face. In his right hand, he clutched a large kitchen knife. He was slightly wet from the rain.
    Memories crowded into Shannon's mind. It was the same as it had been that rainy night in November almost four years ago. Mike was standing there like a madman, wet and holding a knife. Only this time he was here to get her. Shannon stifled a sob in her throat, not daring to move.
    "You never thought you'd see me again, did you?" he asked gleefully. She was shocked by how deep his voice had become. Then she thought, almost hysterically, that he was no longer fourteen years old. He was nineteen now. And he was a man, no longer an impressionable boy.
    "Why are you here?" She finally managed to spit out, her voice shaky.
    "I told you we weren't through yet," he said to her, as if reminding her of the obvious. "Jesus, Shannon. Did you think I was kidding? You never did take me seriously, and that was your stupid mistake."
    "How did you get out of the hospital?" she asked. Maybe if she kept him talking, she could figure how to get away from him.
    "I escaped," he said simply. "I've been planning to escape ever since I found out you married some other bastard."
    "How did you find out?"
    Mike snorted. "The dumb bitch nurse of mine left a newspaper in my room, just a short while after you got married. Mom never told me, and I never let on that I knew. I'm clever, huh?"
    "Did you expect me to wait forever for you?" Shannon asked weakly. She had to keep him from finding her children. She prayed neither Angie or Jamie awakened, asking for a glass of water as they were prone to do.
    "Yes," he answered her. His eyes began darting around. "Where is your bastard of a husband?"
    She stared at him, silent.
    Mike shrugged. "I don't think the bastard is here. If he was, he'd be trying to protect you right now. I think you're alone, and that makes it a lot easier for me."
    "Why are you doing this?" she asked, unable to keep the fear from her voice. "Mike doesn't know Scott and I have kids," she thought wildly. "Or he'd be looking for them, too. I've got to get him out of here before one of them wakes up."
    Mike laughed. "I'm taking you with me. Then I'll do what I've wanted to do all along."
    "Which is what?"
    He bent down, crouching next to her on the floor. His face loomed over her menacingly. "I'm going to have you," he said softly. "And then I'm going to kill you, so no one else will ever have you again."
    Shannon took a deep breath. "If its sex you want, let's just do it," she said with more bravado than she felt. "I'll let you take me to bed, Mike. But why do you have to kill me?"
    He stood again, pulling her roughly to her feet. His grip on her wrist painful and strong. "I have to kill you," he said, eyes bright. "I wanted to kill you four years ago because you were with some other bastard, rejecting me. Now that you've gone on to yet another man and married him, I have no choice but to cut your lying throat. Just how many men have you been with since they locked me up? Bitch! You betrayed me, led me along, and made me believe you really loved me, but all you did was use me. And I want revenge for that humiliation. First, however, I want to taste what you have given so freely to God knows how many others."
    She swallowed, trying to hide the pain he was inflicting on her wrist. "I never led you on," she said, her breath shallow. "I really cared for you, Mike. But I realized my feelings toward you were that of a friend, and nothing more."
    "That's what I thought," he sneered at her. "Now the choice is no longer yours to make. It's my choice now, and I will have you." He pulled her to him. "We're leaving. Say goodbye to your loving home." He drew back his hand and struck her across the face several times. Sobbing, she fell against him, the pain making her dizzy. The slaps left a stinging sensation on her face, burning her cheeks and mouth.
    "That's more like it," Mike said coldly. "My quiet little bitch. Now, come on. We're leaving."
    Shannon did not fight him as he dragged her out of the house. She wanted to get away from her children so Mike wouldn't find them. She closed her eyes and hoped Angie and Jamie did not awaken, or fall down the stairs. Her hope rested on the fact that someone from the mansion would find them before they were left alone too long.
    Mike shoved Shannon into the front seat of the Mustang. He got into the driver's seat and fiddled with the wires underneath the steering wheel. The engine roared to life. She remained limp, but her mind was working furiously. If he stopped at an intersection along the way, or a red traffic light, she could jump out of the vehicle and make a run for it.
    As if reading her thoughts, he snarled at her. "Don't even think of trying to jump out of the car. If you do, I'll drive back to that fucking mansion you used to live in and start killing your family off, one by one. It's not them that I want. I want you. But if you try to escape, I will go back and kill them."
    Shannon sagged her weight against the car seat as Mike drove away from her home. She could see the lights at the mansion, and wondered if Sean was awake. Suddenly she wished she had gone to the mansion to play cards with her twin and Liam. Then it dawned on her Mike's escape was perhaps the reason she felt uneasy all day. Something wasn't right, and this was it. Mike was here, taking her away from her family and her home. To kill her once and for all. She wanted to laugh, but she restrained herself. The laughter was being fueled by hysteria, she knew, but she had to stay strong. Someone was bound to discover her missing, surely, and soon. But where would they find her? Mike had not given her a hint to where he was taking her, so how could anyone find her?
    "It's up to me," she thought grimly. "I have to remain calm and lucid, and think of a way to escape. It's my only option now."
    She glanced over at Mike. The lights on the car dashboard reflected on his face. He looked so much older than he really was, and crazier than he'd ever been. In the midst of all his dysfunction, Shannon could still detect an air of innocence about him. In some ways, he was still the same boy she knew years ago. Shaking, she turned her head away. She once thought that no matter what happened, she and Mike would always be connected somehow, aside from their distant blood relation. He thought the same thing. And they were both right. Despite all her efforts to block him out of her mind, he never really left her. Their connection was destiny from the start. Nothing either of them did changed the fact.
    And now the time of reckoning had finally come.

     SHORTLY AFTER MIDNIGHT, SEAN decided to walk down to his sister's cottage. Following his telephone call with her earlier in the evening, he felt Shannon was disturbed about something. She sounded depressed and distant, not entirely herself. Perhaps it was because Scott was away, or maybe she was concerned about her husband seeing his old lover again, even if she was dying. Looking out the window of the drawing room of the mansion, Sean noticed the lights in the cottage were on, so he figured Shannon must still be awake. Slipping on a light jacket, he began the descent down the driveway to his twin's home.
    Sean's alarm increased when he received no answer to his knock. Carefully, he opened the front door of the cottage and stepped inside the kitchen. He was made uneasy by the silence. It was not natural. Walking through the kitchen to the living room, he looked around. The television was on, the sound low. A half-empty glass of wine was on the coffee table, next to Shannon's cigarettes and lighter. Sean called out his sister's name: "Shannon, are you here? Are you awake?"
    Silence. Sean peered into Scott and Shannon's bedroom and saw the bed had not been slept in. Taking the stairs two at a time, Sean checked the children. Both Angie and Jamie were sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the absence of their mother. Puzzled, Sean returned to the living room. Maybe Shannon had gone for a walk, but he quickly rejected that idea. She would never leave her children alone.
    As he stood in the living room, Sean's brow furrowed deep into his forehead. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Shannon was in trouble somewhere, and he was powerless. She was gone from her home in the middle of the night, and her children were alone. Suddenly, he was brought out of his reverie by the sharp ringing of the telephone. Leaping at the instrument, he picked up the receiver midway through the second ring.
    "Hello?" he said hopefully. "Shannon?"
    "No, no!" a female voice screamed hysterically. "This is Linda Sullivan. I have to speak to Shannon. Where is she?"
    "This is her brother Sean," he spoke, fear in his voice. "Shannon isn't here."
    "For God's sake, where is she?" Linda demanded.
    "I don't know. I came down to see her, but no one is here. Her kids are asleep in their beds."
    "Oh my God," Linda wailed. "He's got her! We've got to find them . . ."
    "What's going on?" Sean shouted. "Who has my sister?"
    "My son has her," Linda fairly screamed. "I know he does. I just got a call from the hospital. They did a surprise bed check half an hour ago and Mike is gone. They can't find him anywhere in the hospital or the surrounding area."
    Sean closed his eyes. He wanted to believe it was a nightmare, that he would wake any minute and realize it wasn't real. He could not imagine Shannon having her worst fear become a reality, not after all these years. Trying to sound calm, Sean spoke to Linda again. "We can't assume Mike has her just because she isn't here."
    "Where else could she be at this time of night?"
    Taking a deep breath, Sean asked: "How long ago did Mike escape?"
    "The hospital told me they think he made his escape somewhere between eight-thirty and eleven-thirty," Linda told him. "All the patients are put to bed at eight o'clock, and Mike was there then."
    Sean tried to control his growing panic. In a voice strangled with self-control, he told Linda: "I have to call Scott. Give me your phone number, and I'll get back to you."
    Linda gave him the number, her voice calming down a bit. She pleaded with him: "Call me if you hear anything at all. I won't go anywhere."
    "I'll call you," Sean promised. "And if you hear anything, let me know."
    After Sean hung up the receiver, he looked around for Shannon's address book. She always kept important numbers in the front. Finally, he located the small black book on the stand beside her bed. Flipping it open, he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the telephone number to the Carlton Hotel on the first page. With trembling fingers, he dialed the number, wondering how he was going to inform Scott that his wife was missing, along with Mike Sullivan.
    At length, Sean was connected to Scott's hotel room. He sounded sleepy when he answered the telephone, his voice groggy and confused. "Hello?"
     "Scott, this is Sean. You have to come home."
    There was a split second of silence before Scott demanded in a more alert voice: "What's wrong? Has something happened to Shannon?"
    "I don't know yet," Sean replied. "I came down to the cottage tonight and she wasn't here. The kids are asleep, but Shannon is gone. Linda Sullivan just called. Her son escaped from the hospital in Bangor, and no one can find him. Linda thinks he came after Shannon."
    Sean could hear the fear in Scott's voice as he asked the next question: "Are you sure? I mean, maybe Shan went for a walk or something."
    "I thought of that, but you know she'd never leave the kids alone, even to take a walk. I'm telling you, she's gone and I think Sullivan has her."
    "Call the police," Scott said tersely. His voice was suddenly cold and directive. "Tell them what you told me. I'm leaving right now. If I have to, I'll charter a plane home."
    "Okay." Sean was scared. "Hurry, Scott. I'm terrified something is going to happen to Shannon if we don't find her soon."
    "I'm on my way, Sean." And he hung up.
    Sean quickly dialed the number of the police. He reached Detective Mark Balsam and related the story to him. Balsam remembered Mike's case from 1970, and told Sean he would be right over. Next, Sean called the mansion. Kevin answered the telephone. Sean told him everything, adding: "You have to let everyone else know. I can't leave here in case Linda calls back. And Scott is on his way home now."
    After conversing with a distraught Kevin, Sean slumped onto the couch in the living room. He felt void of any emotion but pure terror. He was sure Shannon was feeling the same way at the moment, and his soul cried out for her. He knew how strong she was, but the thought of Mike Sullivan had frightened her for a long time. Closing his eyes, Sean prayed desperately that Shannon retained her strength and didn't let that bastard Sullivan wear her down.

     MIKE NEVER IMAGINED HE would find the cave at Seal Harbor so easily. His memory of the location had not failed him, even after all these years. For the last stretch of the drive from Bar Harbor to Seal Harbor, Mike ceased his inane chattering. He fell strangely silent, all of his concentration on the road.
    Shannon glanced over at Mike uneasily as they sped along. His silence was somehow more frightening than his endless rambling. The rain began to pelt down from the sky, and she was slightly chilled. This was due in part to her predicament, she knew, and her fear had not lessened. Rather, it had increased. She was no longer in control of anything anymore, much less her own destiny. Her very life rested in the unsteady hands of Mike Sullivan now, whether she liked it or not.
    At length, he pulled the car off to the side of the road. Shannon tried to distinguish where they were, her eyes searching into the darkness and torrent of rain. She could vaguely see they were parked on the edge of a small cliff that allowed a view of the beach and rocky terrain.
    "Why are we here?" she asked.
    Mike looked at her. "I have a special place for us," he answered, observing her closely as he spoke. "I used to come here with my father. The spot I have in mind is very isolated and dark. I think you'll like it."
    She was still, feeling her throat's dryness. Trying to conceal her nervousness, she said faintly: "It sounds like a nice place - very romantic."
    "Cut the shit, Shannon," Mike said. "You don't give a rat's ass. Don't even try to humor me with your double talk. When have you ever felt romantic toward me?"
    "I did at one time."
    "That's the problem," he said bitterly, glaring at her. "You did at one time, but what about now?"
    "I'm married now, Michael," Shannon said, looking directly at him. "I married the man I love, but that doesn't mean I quit caring about you."
    He stared at her, his stony silence long and intense. Then, suddenly, he grabbed Shannon by the wrist and dragged her across the seat toward him. He flung open the car door and stepped out into the rain, taking her with him. She stumbled out of the car, falling against him as she tried to steady herself.
    "Don't appear too eager, Shan," he said sarcastically in her ear. "We'll be in a dry place in a few minutes."
    It seemed like hours to Shannon as he led her down the rocky cliff path to the beach. She was drenched to the skin, and terrified. The path was muddy and slippery. Every so often she missed her footing and fell. Mike helped her to her feet, and then they would continue down the path again. The journey seemed endless to her, and every moment she feared of falling to her death.
    Finally, however, they reached the comparative solidness of the beach. Shannon glanced around, squinting her eyes in the darkness. A far away lighthouse shed little light on their surroundings, but enough to make out a few shapes. To the left was a long stretch of high rocks, some of which were embedded into the side of the cliff. She figured they were caves. She had seen many of the same throughout her childhood, mainly in Bar Harbor on family outings with her brother and cousins. Then it dawned on her. Mike was taking her to a cave - a dark, cold cave, away from any civilization, out of hearing distance from a living soul.
    The realization set off a new wave of hysteria within her. Suddenly, she felt the strong urge to flee. Jerking away from Mike, she ran in the opposite direction of the caves, fear giving her an abnormal boost of adrenalin of which she had not thought herself capable. She ran blindly, not caring about anything except getting away from Mike.
    She barely went twenty feet when he jumped her from behind, knocking her face down in the sand. He pulled her head up by her hair, screaming over the din of the ocean waves and the rain.
    "How dare you run away from me? Didn't I tell you what I'd do if you got away from me? I'll go back to Larkin and kill your family. Do you hear me? I'll kill them all!"
    Shannon looked at him through the wet hair plastered to her head, eyes dull and submitting. "I give up," she cried. "Take me where you want."
    Mike pulled her roughly to her feet, dragging her behind him as he walked back in the direction of the caves. His face was hard-set and determined. She watched the expressions on his face closely. She learned it was a good way to anticipate what his next move might be. At the moment, he was angry and his only aim - for the time being - was to get her inside a cave, out of the rain and away from the openness of the beach.
    She suffered through another treacherous path, this time going uphill into the rocks. It was pitch black. She wondered how Mike kept his footing and sense of direction. He obviously remembered the area well, despite the length of time he had been away. She had no choice but to clutch his hand tightly, for fear of slipping and hurting herself.
    Finally, he came to a halt. She peered over his shoulder. They were at the mouth of a small cave. Mike bent over slightly to avoid bumping his head on the alcove, and led her inside. Suddenly, they were free of the pelting rain. The noise of the waves seemed distant now. She could not see and clung to Mike's arm as he fumbled inside his jacket. He brought out a pack of matches and lit one.
    In the dim illumination, she could see the cave was very small, perhaps the size of an apartment living room. The walls were wet and slimy, the floor sandy and damp. Twigs and pieces of wood were scattered in all directions.
    Mike turned to her. "Can I trust you to stay here while I make a fire?"
    Shannon nodded, wordless.
    "Promise me," he pressed her.
    "I promise I won't move," she replied, frustrated. "God, Mike, I don't even know where we are. How can I go anywhere?"
    Mike set about to build a fire. She watched him curiously. At the moment he didn't look insane. He was cold and tired, just like she was. He was dripping wet, which emphasized his thinness as his clothes clung to him. He had changed so much, physically. Now he was obviously very much a man, but seemed unaware of the fact. In his mind, he was still fourteen years old. His whole realm of thinking centered on puberty. What else had he ever known?
    She shivered at the thought.
    Mike glanced at her. "You can come over to the fire," he said, his voice almost gentle. "You must be cold."
    Shannon stepped toward the fire, rubbing her hands in front of her, letting the warmth seep into her. She looked up to find Mike staring at her intently.
    "What is it?" she asked uncertainly.
    His smile was soft and genuine. "Even wet and bedraggled, you're still beautiful to me."
    She stared back at him, her mouth slightly open in unexpressed shock. The cave fell silent as Mike and Shannon locked eyes with one another. According to him, their fate was decreed long ago and now their time had come. She felt a wave of despair, and then weary acceptance. There was nothing more she could do to stop Mike now. He was in control, and he knew it. Her well-being or death was in his hands. His determination and patience were paying off. She was helpless to prevent him from carrying out his insane, barbaric fantasy.