Chasing Anne

Igniting Ardor

Anne folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath, sitting down on her bed in her room. She looked down at her lap and watched a tear splatter onto her folded hands. Mark couldn't have... How could he just jump from her to another girl in less than two days? It made no sense. He was about to ask her to marry him! How on earth could he be so...she couldn't find the right words. She reached down and unstrapped her high heel from her left foot, letting the painful shoe fall to the floor harmlessly. Raymond had certainly changed, but she didn't want to call him a liar. She pulled of her other shoe and then pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, but she didn't even try to stop them. Whatever Mark had said he was...he wasn't. Whatever she had thought he was...he was no longer. She suppressed a sob. At least she knew the truth about him now. He couldn't influence her now. Raymond had confirmed that he had been shot and was dead. At least, she thought that was what the guard meant when he said 'our target has been eliminated.' Who knew what Mark had been doing at the time. It didn't matter now though. He was dead.

She wiped her tears away with her forearm and then sat up, looking around her prison. There was no way out. That she knew. The door was bolted and it would take some miracle to get her out of here. She stood, her feet more than relieved to be rid of the uncomfortable shoes she had been forced to use. Walking over to the closet, she pulled out her soiled jacket. It was stained in a few places, but other than that it was in perfect condition. She pulled it off the hanger and then slipped it around herself. At least she had something that belonged to her. She walked over to the only window in the room and silently looked outside, gazing longingly at the freedom beyond her cage.

"God," she prayed. "I know you're good, but I don't see how any of this is good! Where are you? I need you, God. Please, give me something to hold onto! Anything. And please, give me Mark back." She paused. "You know I love him. I can't help it. I prayed about our relationship and I know I heard you when you told me he was the one for me! I asked you countless times because I didn't want to make a mistake! But now...now I'm not so sure. I miss him, Father. I miss my mom, my dad. God, I've lost everything. Do you have to take Mark too? Please, Father. Guide me. Take my hand; lead me! I can't do this alone."

Her voice was choked out by tears and with and shudder, she fell to her knees, too weak to stand.

And then something gentle touched her shoulder, comforting her. She turned to see who it was, but saw no one, but as she looked, she thought she saw the reflection of a man dressed in white in her vanity mirror. A strange peace came over her in that moment, and her tears seemed to melt away. She turned back to the window a moment, but as she did, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a white flash. She turned back and there standing beside her, was Bartholomew. He smiled, but said nothing.

"Bartholomew," Anne whispered. "How...how did you."

Bartholomew held up a finger. "No questions need to be asked, Anne."

"But-."

Bartholomew sighed and shook his head, standing and moving over to the door. He examined the lock combination and then scratched his chin. "So, they have you as prisoner?"

Anne nodded. "Yes."

Bartholomew nodded and toyed with the lock a moment before turned back to her. His eyes were fierce but gentle. He smiled again and then turned to the wall.

"Ardor," he said. "Come here."

Another bright light shone around them and as it faded, another man appeared. He saluted and then dropped his hands to his sides.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I want you to remain guard here with Miss Anne. As you know, I have very pressing matters of my own."