Charon's Crossing

She fell back as he rose and rushed towards her. His hands closed on her shoulders and he shook her roughly.

"Dammit," he snarled, "that's enough! I'm not going anywhere. And I'm weary of you playing the innocent."

"I'm not 'playing' at anything, Ma-... Matthew. I just-—I don't understand what you want!"

"Answers, dammit. Answers!" His hands tightened on her. "Why did you do it, Catherine?"

"Do what?"

"I loved you. I worshiped you. And yet, you betrayed me, betrayed me with that pig!"

"I didn't," Kathryn said quickly. "Look, you've got this all wrong."

"Have I?"

"Yes. Yes, you have. I can explain—"

"Explain, then. Fool that I am, I'll listen."

"He was never my lover."

She cried out as Matthew shook her.

"Don't lie! That only makes it worse."

"I'm not lying. I know I let you think he was, but—"

"Think? Think?" He shoved her back against the wall, his eyes blazing with rage. "I saw you with him, damn you! You were in his arms, kissing him, telling him things you had once told me..."

"No! That's not true! I never kissed him. I was only with him once, how could I have kissed him? I don't know what you think you saw but—"

"What I think I saw?" His hand slid down to her wrist, his fingers clamping around it like steel, and he yanked her towards the French doors that led onto the terrace. "I was out there, in the garden, as were you." He spun her towards him, his eyes wild. "I saw everything, Cat, everything!"

"But you couldn't have," she said desperately. "Not from the garden."

Matthew flung her from him and she stumbled back, her eyes wide and terrified.

"Sweet Jesus, are you trying to drive me insane? I saw you with Waring! You know damned well that I did."

"Waring?" she repeated in an unsteady whisper. "Who's Waring? His name was Efram."

"Efram? Efram? Who the hell is Efram?"

"The boy you saw me with this afternoon, the one you thought was my lover. He's not. He couldn't be. He's just a child. A boy. He only came to deliver my car."

Matthew's bellow of rage filled the room.

"Are you telling me you've taken to consorting with children?"

"No. No, of course not. I only meant..." She held out her hand. "Please, calm down."

"I am calm," he shouted. "I am totally, completely... Damn!"

He whirled away from her and aimed a booted foot at a stupid little table against the wall. It made a satisfying crunch as it shattered and fell to the floor like so many matchsticks. Kathryn cried out and flew past him. She fell to her knees and began clawing through the pieces of wood.

"Hell and damnation," Matthew muttered. "It's only a table, just a stinking, miserable..."

"Look," she said, her voice filled with awe.