SoulMate - Part One

by Judache English

This story probably takes place between Anniversary and Date Night, and deals with Vincent's struggle to accept his Beast as a part of his intimate relationship with Catherine. It's a story I've had in the back of my mind since before writing any of my others, it's also been requested by some of my readers. Here is Part One. As always, very mature content for Adults only.

Soul...Mate - Part 1

Takes place in the time between Anniversary and Date Night

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, this is a work of fiction based on the characters and story

Vincent let the cool night air blow over him as he leaned back against the iron railing. If only the breeze could blow right through him, blow away everything that was keeping him from having a normal relationship with Catherine. As he thought about what had happened yet again and felt his frustration rising, he dug his fingers into his thighs hard enough to hurt, trying desperately to quell the frustration before it turned into anger. Anger that would only bring back to the surface the part of himself he was trying so hard to subdue, the part which was causing the problem in the first place. Although the danger of transforming seemed to have passed, he was still hard and aching for her - but Vincent didn't dare risk going back inside and acting on his desire. Just a little longer, he thought to himself...although it was taking longer each time.

It had happened almost a dozen times now, and was becoming increasingly frequent. Five times in the last week, although he'd spared Catherine from most of them. Tonight, as he had on other occasions, he'd woken up as it started, and stayed in control long enough to leave her side before the urge took over, before she awoke and realised what was happening. The other times, well, it had come over him so quickly that he was on her, in her before he barely knew it himself, sometimes before he was even completely awake. Then, fully aware but unable to stop himself, he'd engage in a curious battle of wills and emotions; begging his alter ego to give way...but not really wanting him to. Hoping he would finish quickly...but craving the intensity for as long as possible. Trying to ignore how much he could feel that Catherine was enjoying it, encouraging it...because that only fed his own arousal, his own enjoyment. And he didn't want to enjoy it. He didn't want her to enjoy it. Vincent just wanted it to go away.

When he was done, Catherine would hold him as he changed back, stroking his head, telling him how much she loved him, until he was himself again and felt able to meet her gaze. He would tell her how sorry he was, she would see the shame in his eyes and tell him it was alright, that she liked it; he would pretend to agree with her and they would go back to sleep, well, at least she would. Vincent rarely slept after it happened, just lay there lost in his thoughts, hating himself just a little bit more each time, unable to understand her acceptance, let alone the pleasure she obviously derived from it...or worse, the pleasure he did too. It baffled him.

In the morning he'd act outwardly as if nothing had happened, but would be carefully checking out Catherine's body, looking for new bruises and scratches, even bite marks. Inevitably there would be some evidence of what he'd done, but he'd learned it wasn't worth trying to discuss it with her; she'd simply brush it off, laughing that she got worse at work. At least he didn't worry any longer that he'd lose control to the extent of hurting her seriously, his other side seemed as determined as he was to keep her safe - but that still didn't stop him worrying about an unintentional injury, especially as the instances became more frequent, more intense.

And so he sat on Catherine's fire escape clad only in the track pants he'd hurriedly pulled on, waiting for the urges to pass, wishing he could find a way to make them disappear for good.

"Vincent - what on earth are you doing out here?" He started; he'd been so caught up in his internal struggle he hadn't even heard Catherine getting up. She stood just inside the window, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold and peering out at him in confusion. "Aren't you freezing? Come on, come back inside."

"Oh damn, Catherine I'm sorry - I should've closed the window, I didn't mean the cold to wake you." He deliberately avoided a direct answer about whether or not he was cold; when he was in this state, his blood was boiling, it could have been -40 and he would've barely noticed it.

"No - you not being in bed with me woke me up. Please Vincent, what's wrong?"

Vincent climbed back inside, into her waiting arms. "Nothing Catherine, nothing." He kissed the top of her head. "I just couldn't sleep. Everything's fine. Let's go back to bed." He closed the window and led her back to their bed, holding her close as she fell back to sleep, eventually feeling calm enough to do the same himself.

The next morning was as normal as normal could be for them; Catherine was up and in the shower before the alarm had even stopped. Vincent followed, noticing again the bruises on her hips and ribcage, the scratches on her back, and the gentle but obvious bite mark on her shoulder, all courtesy of when he hadn't been able stop in time on previous occasions. They soaped each other, wanting more but knowing there wasn't time, settling for a few quick kisses. As Vincent dried himself and dressed, Catherine was already in the kitchen. She presented him with a steaming mug of coffee as he entered the room, then pushed back past him with her own coffee in hand, to get ready for work.

"Can I make you something to eat?" called Vincent, shouting to be heard over the hair dryer.

"Ah yes - please - there should be bagels, toast me one of those and I'll love you forever."

"I thought you already did!" he yelled back, smiling at the domesticity, the worry and fear of the night before already fading.

Twenty minutes later they were ready to leave, bagels eaten and coffee finished. "So what are you doing today?" asked Catherine as she searched for her keys.

"Lots to do at the new place. I promised JT I'd take care of a bunch of things today while he's out earning the paycheque, we haven't even unpacked the kitchen yet. And I think your keys are probably somewhere near the door...where we dropped them last night...we weren't exactly focussed on putting things in the right place..." Vincent grinned at her, remembering the way they'd entered the apartment the night before, practically undressing each other before the door was closed...then just as quickly trying to push the thought out of his mind as another part of his body also started to react positively to the memory.

"Ahah!" laughed Catherine, retrieving her keys from the floor and smiling wickedly at Vincent. "It's all coming back to me now." She moved over to him and kissed him, gently. "But tonight, Heather will be home, so..."

"That is why you have a key to my new place." Vincent gathered her into his arms, breathing in her scent and thinking again, for the umpteenth time, that he was the luckiest man in the world. "I'll be there, waiting, counting the minutes until..."

She stopped him with another kiss. "Yes so will I, but now I have to go. Tess and I have a day of boring paperwork ahead of us with the DA's team, but at least I shouldn't be late. I'll bring something for dinner. Do you want a lift home?"

"No, you go ahead. Be careful, and I'll see you later." Vincent tried to ignore the jealousy he still felt at the mention of Gabe Lowen, and left via the fire escape; swiftly and invisibly making his way through the city to his new home.

The day went by quickly for both of them; and when Catherine arrived at Vincent's place around 5pm, take out dinner in hand; they were both ready for a relaxing evening. They ate unhurriedly, watching the evening news on TV, enjoying the normalcy but stealing lustful glances at each other as they both anticipated what was sure to happen later.

"You're sure you can't stay tonight?" asked Vincent as he joined Catherine on one of the many huge sofas spread around the various rooms, this one in an upstairs vestibule opposite a large picture window. "I sorted out the plumbing in my ensuite today...so even after JT gets home, we've got complete privacy. You know, we've got doors and everything." He winked.

"Well well, 'ensuite'...aren't you special now. Anyone would think you live in a mansion or something." Catherine grinned, then sighed. "But no, I do have to be home later for Heather. I promised her, some work dilemma she absolutely has to discuss with me, apparently. But we still have a few hours..."

"Okay. I should catch up with JT anyway; we've barely seen each other since we moved in here. But he won't be back for a while either, so I think we should take advantage of those few hours you mentioned," he said, pulling Catherine next to him. Vincent was actually a little relieved that they wouldn't be spending the night together for the first time in a week; he wasn't quite ready for a repeat visit from his other side, at least not until he could figure out what was triggering it. He wanted to see if JT had any theories, although he hadn't yet decided exactly how to broach the subject.

He drew Catherine closer still, groaning audibly as she started to move her fingers in a lazy circular motion on his jeans-clad thigh. So gentle, scarcely touching, but with Vincent's senses and amplified libido it took little to arouse him - and this was suddenly causing bolts of desire to course through him. His manhood reacted instantly, swelling before she'd barely moved her hand. Vincent realised that even his nipples had already tightened, aching for her touch. Damn, the things she did to him, and oh the things he wanted to do to her...

"Mmmmmm..." murmured Vincent, leaning over and lazily nibbling on Catherine's throat. "You could do that all night and make me a very happy man." He noted her increasing heartbeat, as she squeezed his thigh gently, moving towards his already bulging crotch.

"If that's all it takes, then what's in it for me?" Catherine breathed, leaning into Vincent as his lips kissed their way up her neck towards her mouth, one of his large hands now cupping and firmly massaging her breast, the other tangled in her hair.

"Oh don't you worry, I'm sure I can think of plenty of things to keep you happy too," he replied, as his tongue snaked out and barely grazed her bottom lip. "In fact, if I trust my senses it seems to me you're already enjoying yourself as much as I am." Vincent had taken in the heady scent of her arousal, and it was spurring him on. It was as if her need became his, as he attuned to her heartbeat, the surge of blood through her body, the unmistakable knowledge that even now she was already wet with desire for him - it all combined with his own feverish lust and put him in a place that no other man could ever truly understand.

Catherine's fingers had reached his straining erection, but she continued with her lazy circles and occasional gentle squeezes through the denim. Vincent growled, already feeling like he was going to burst if they didn't hurry things along. They were kissing now, deeply, pulling closer. Often they could just kiss for ages, losing themselves in the intimacy, but tonight Vincent was feeling an almost primal urge to take her completely, as soon as possible. It seemed like she was feeling it too; he could feel her shudder as he started to undo her blouse, resisting the urge to rip the last few buttons away, removing it and her bra and somehow managing to shed his own shirt in the same movement. She moaned, and they shifted on the sofa. Vincent eased her down and their bare chests came together, hot flesh meeting hot flesh. Her taut nipples brushed against his and he reacted as if shocked; her touch was pure electricity when he was this far gone. Breathing quickened as their kisses deepened further, until Vincent sat up with a growl, one hand undoing his jeans while the other undid hers. He tugged almost frantically at them and her panties, pulling them down just enough to gain access to the part of her he needed so desperately. Catherine countered by reaching up and releasing his raging tumescence, he groaned loudly as she touched him, unable to stop his hips from thrusting his enormous, inflamed shaft into her hand. Oh, damn he wanted her so, hungered to feel her heat around him; his entire body was already quivering in anticipation. As usual he moved his hand down to her folds, checking that she was ready for him, even though his senses had told him she was, even though she always was.

Oh yes hell yes she was so ready, so hot, so swollen and oh so damn wet. For him. All for him. Only for him. That thought aroused him further. Even though he was yearning to be inside her, somehow he forced himself to hold back just a moment longer. He let his fingers linger a while, circling, probing, rubbing, enjoying the sensations he could feel he was giving to her, to them both, knowing exactly where and how quickly he was taking her. She was pulsing against his fingers, tightening around him, and Vincent could feel it in every single nerve ending he possessed, the sensations pushing him to the edge right along with her. "Oh God, yes Vincent, that feels so good, I want you, mmmm, oh God oh God oh Vincent!" Catherine screamed his name as she came with a rush, sooner than she had expected, but it was no surprise to Vincent. He held the woman he loved tightly as she moaned into his shoulder, his own hunger momentarily sated simply by sharing in her euphoria. They were connected.

It wasn't long though, until his own lust reared again. His shaft was still thick and heavy between them, stiffening impossibly, lengthening even further. Vincent felt the familiar stirrings of his other side, no longer content to wait; just beneath the surface his Beast pushed and simmered, but Vincent was prepared. He'd become rather good at the give and take between them, especially recently; usually allowing him through just enough to be satisfied, and sometimes even enhance the experience - but not enough to lose control. Not like when the Beast visited in the night without warning. That was something separate, and Vincent was determined to keep it that way.

Catherine whimpered and ground into him, kicking free of her jeans and wrapping her legs around his hips. Vincent knew she was ready for more, and he could wait no longer. He rose above her, guiding the raging tip of his manhood against her sex, then gradually pushed inside, letting her grow further around him. She was still pulsing from her orgasm, and in turn the sensation pulsed right through him, into him, almost making him lose focus. It was so damn good, oh God, he thought, every man should have the chance to feel this the way he did, just once. Her hands were all over him, on his back, his ass, his chest, and Vincent almost lost it yet again when she tugged at one of his nipples, making him growl with animal lust. He began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster, harder, deeper. They kissed, his tongue plunging into Catherine's mouth with the same increasing rhythm. Her tongue met his and they danced together, tasting each other. His Beast chose that moment to push, reminding Vincent that he was there, but Vincent pushed back with practised ease, always aware, never letting his enjoyment overtake the need for control. He knew his eyes had turned golden; that was okay, but no further. If he had to give up a little of his own pleasure to ensure he could give Catherine the lovemaking she deserved, then that was the way it had to be. It was still more than he had ever imagined they would be able to have.

As he drew closer to release, Vincent moved faster, his breathing becoming ragged. He grew even thicker and hotter inside her, aching, throbbing, bringing her to the same place he was: on the edge of pure ecstasy. He growled and Catherine mewled back, two humans, two animals, rising and falling within each other, their eyes locked together. The ache became unbearable, he felt Catherine let go again, and oh God how did she do that, she was clenching him tightly from within, damn she was good she was so hot she was oh fuck oh "Oh Catherine yes now...now..." His words turned back into growls as he came in a rush, owning every endless, glorious spasm inside her, again, again, again, his Beast making himself known with a low roar, then drawing back once more. Vincent collapsed onto Catherine, instinctively rolling them both slightly sideways so as not to crush her, holding her tight as they panted against each other.

Eventually their breathing slowed, and Catherine started to giggle. "Do you realise you never even completely got undressed?" she asked, "Not to mention we couldn't even make it into your bedroom." You, my dear Vincent, are insatiable."

Vincent grinned sheepishly, looking down at his jeans still hanging low around his hips, and then at his bedroom door not five feet away. "It's all you," he replied, leaning forward to kiss her, "you make me want you constantly, wherever we are. And besides, we've done the bedroom. This is a huge place. We've got so many other rooms to, umm, explore together." He began to harden again just thinking about that, but drowsiness was overtaking them both, and lying on the sofa in a tangle of arms and legs, they dozed.

Vincent awoke in a panic. Catherine was squirming beneath him, half-heartedly protesting "No Vincent, no, wait, please Vincent, wait". With horror he realised he was completely transformed, leaning heavily over her, his massive, furious erection pushing into her relentlessly. As always she was ready and able to take him, but this time, for the first time, she was not completely willing. He tried to pull out, tried to pull back from his Beast but it was too strong, too focussed on what it coveted. His face buried in her shoulder, he heard the animal grunts, heard Catherine pleading but it was all through a haze. He wanted to scream, to let her know he was there, that he wanted it to stop, but he couldn't get through, not even a little bit. Tonight the Beast was unyielding. Not violent, not in danger of hurting her, but almost...almost...angry, something Vincent hadn't ever felt him be with Catherine before...even on that very first night.

He suddenly became aware that Catherine had stopped protesting, and with a rush of sadness realised she'd acquiesced. Already he could feel her increasing arousal as she began to move with them; whether she'd wanted it or not, she couldn't help herself, just as he couldn't. It felt incredibly good, dammit...but it shouldn't, it mustn't. Without the resistance his Beast calmed slightly, but it was too late to change anything. The Beast finished with a loud, guttural roar of possession, pulling Vincent along for the euphoric ride as they flooded into Catherine, leaving him with an almost crippling rush of incompatible emotions. At this moment, as he did every time, Vincent wondered how much longer his psyche would be able to take the conflict.

As usual, Catherine held him as he changed back, telling him she loved him, waiting until he could speak. But this time, as he looked into her eyes, Vincent could see it was different. Her gaze was questioning, although not upset. "Wow Vincent, that was unexpected..."

He cut her off abruptly, almost sobbing out the words "Christ Catherine I'm sorry, oh damn I'm so sorry..."

"Vincent it's alright, you know it is, I know you can't help yourself."

"No, it's not alright." Vincent's despair was quickly giving way to anger. "You said no, Catherine. You said NO, and I couldn't stop him. I couldn't help you."

"I didn't need help, Vincent. I was only saying no because I was in an uncomfortable position, and because I realised we'd slept and I had to get home to Heather...but you know I can never resist you for too long." She smiled playfully, and leaned in for a kiss.

Vincent sat up and turned away, surprising her. "Catherine that's not the point. What if you really had been saying no? Tonight proved he won't stop even for that, even with the influence you have over him. And then what...what if he hurt you? I couldn't live with that." Vincent's thoughts were in a jumble. This was what he'd been frightened of when they first took their relationship to this level. He'd dared to believe they'd passed this hurdle, and even in the face of the increasing Beast visits it had been easy to sweep them aside, to focus on everything that was good about their lovemaking. But now, now it was all falling apart.

"Vincent I don't understand." Catherine sat up with him, stroking his cheek, trying to calm him. "But I wasn't saying 'no' for real, I'm sure inside you knew that, you could tell the difference. Vincent, I couldn't feel anything but your love. We were still together, all the way, like always."

"Catherine, don't you see, it's not me, it's him. I'm just a silent observer in the background. Lately I have no idea what he will or won't do, and I can't keep putting you in that danger. It's too big a risk."

"You're overreacting Vincent, of course it's you, besides it's not like this happens very often, and you know I rather li..."

He cut her off again, looking down and mumbling. "It's been happening a lot...more than you realise." Vincent took a deep breath and looked up again, into the eyes of the woman he loved completely, knowing he was hurting her, and about to admit he'd been lying to her. Or at the very least, keeping her in the dark, and very possibly putting her in danger by doing so. He took her hands in his, sighed deeply, and continued on. "After the first few times we were together, when you know I really had no control, I've been, well, learning how to deal with him when we make love. How to keep my other side away from what we have together. But, once in a while he would come out and I couldn't stop him..."

"I know, we talked about that, you know I accept it all. Vincent what's wrong?" Catherine looked at him, so trusting, making Vincent die inside a little bit more.

"No, you don't understand. My animal side, well yes, outwardly I've had a little more control. But lately, after we make love, something's changed. He...he keeps waking in the night, and usually I can get away from you in time, but sometimes..."

"What do you mean 'get away from me'? Why? How often are you talking about?" Her tone was becoming sharper, as Catherine started to realise there was more to this than she'd thought.

"Ah, well, almost every night this week" He waited for her reaction, but was greeted with wide-eyed silence. "I, um, usually I wake up when I start to change, yeah, and I can get away from you, protect you while I go and regain control. But sometimes I can't, like tonight, or like last weekend when he did this to you." Vincent grazed his fingers over the bruise from the bite mark on her shoulder.

"Almost every night?" Catherine was looking at him, a mixture of confusion, pity and anger in her eyes. "So last night, when I found you sitting on the fire escape in the cold..."

He nodded. "And Tuesday when I took that shower at 4am...and..."

"So you've been lying to me?"

'No, not lying Catherine, believe me. Just trying to protect you while I figured this out...I didn't want you to worry."

"Vincent how many times do I have to tell you that I don't need your protection...from any part of you. I thought we'd gotten past all that. We agreed no more secrets." She was definitely angry, getting dressed as she spoke, moving away from his touch and making a beeline for the stairs.

"Catherine don't go, please." Vincent pleaded, hauling up his jeans as he moved to follow her, "we need to talk about this."

"You're right Vincent, we do. But not now. I have to get home to Heather...and I need to think about this for a little while. By myself," she added emphatically, her eyes shooting daggers at Vincent, stopping him in his tracks as he started down the stairs after her. "Don't come by tonight, please. I'll call you tomorrow." Catherine left, barely nodding at an arriving JT as she nearly plowed through him in her haste to get out of there.

"Some-one's in trou-ble." JT sang out, not bothering to suppress a chuckle as he walked into the room. "So what have you done now? Actually, based on your state of undress I probably don't want to know. I see the kitchen's not unpacked, I thought you were going to do that today? Is there anything to eat?

"JT, actually I do need to talk to you about this...and yes there are leftovers in the fridge, Catherine brought enough for you too."

"Ah, well then that woman is a saint, so obviously whatever's happened, it's all your fault." JT was walking around the room peering into boxes. "Do we have any dishes?"

"Last box on your right. JT look, something's been happening when Catherine and I..."

JT turned and cut Vincent off mid-sentence. "Whoa, buddy. Best pal or not, whatever goes on between you two behind that bedroom door is, well, between the two of you. It's obvious that you can't keep your hands off each other and I'm happy for you, really. But..." JT stopped, noticing the expression on Vincent's face. He sighed before continuing "…but this isn't just swapping stories stuff like in high school, is it?"

Vincent shook his head. "No this is my DNA stuff, so yeah I really need to talk to you."

"Fine, okay. Of course." JT watched as his oldest friend looked at him gratefully. "But just let me heat up this food first. And you're not going to get too detailed are you? Can I eat while we talk?"

"Yeah, I think you'll be fine."

"Good. Well then grab me a beer please. I have a feeling I'm going to need it. And Vincent..."

"Yes?"

"Can you do up your jeans and put a shirt on? I'm eating, remember? Plus I don't need to be reminded that I didn't go to the gym again today"

Vincent broke a small smile, buttoning up his fly as he donned a t-shirt that was hanging over a chair, and grabbed a beer and a bottle of water from the fridge. The two men sat at the table, JT digging into his meal with relish, Vincent trying to decide where to start and how much to tell.

He decided to start at the beginning, and, whether JT wanted to know or not, tell him everything. Well, more or less anyway, keeping his descriptions as clinical and impersonal as possible.

"So, tonight was the first time it happened so soon after you...umm...after? And the first time you felt anger? How do you usually feel, emotionally I mean? Was there any other possible reason you could've been angry at Cat?" JT was finished eating, now nearly done his second beer, and definitely in scientist mode. He was even taking notes, something he hadn't done with Vincent since the whole serum thing, months ago.

No, nothing, really," Vincent shook his head. "Like I said, I think he was angry because she resisted this time...and to answer your question, usually he just feels determined, and...and...I guess you could say he feels happy. And sort of satisfied...I mean...I know this sounds awful, but as if he's just staked his claim or something." Vincent shifted uncomfortably. JT was giving him a look that he'd seen too many times over the years, a look that said he didn't think he was getting the whole story.

"No Vincent, stop with how 'he' feels. I asked how you feel."

"I, I feel...ashamed. I feel ashamed that Catherine has to keep putting up with that side of me and that I can't stop it, yet I have more control than ever at all other times, including when we're together, um, normally."

"And?"

"And what, JT, what?" JT just stared at him and Vincent's eyes dropped, knowing where JT was going but not wanting to have to say it.

"Hey, you asked me for help...and at this point in our friendship I doubt there's much you can say that will shock me."

Vincent was silent for a while, then he turned about 15 shades of red. "I like it," he mumbled. Then again, his voice starting to break. "I like it, a lot JT, and I feel possessive too...just like him. I try not to...but in the moment it all seems so right..." Vincent's voice trailed off and he bit his lip to try and stay focussed on their conversation.

"And Cat?" JT saw the look on his friend's face and started again. "Sorry Vincent I know this is a really personal question, but how does she feel about it? I know you said she was okay, but while it's happening, is she just putting up with it or..."?

"She, she enjoys it. She...she says it...um...turns her on. And it does, I can tell". Vincent could feel himself turning red again, this time on Catherine's behalf. "But that's so wrong JT; she shouldn't, just like I shouldn't. When it was only once in a while, I could deal with it, but not like this, not almost every day. It's not fair to her. Dammit it's not fair at all, we got past this, for once in my life something was almost normal..." He banged his fist on the table, surprising himself.

"Sounds to me like perhaps you are a little angry at her, for liking it. Let alone at yourself." JT looked at his friend thoughtfully. "Look you've said that even when feeling angry you wouldn't hurt her. So why not just go with it? Maybe if you could accept that you like it, you'd be able to accept that she does too, and it wouldn't be so bad when it happens?" JT had to really work not to laugh at the look of horror on Vincent's face.

"Yeah. Maybe..." Vincent was trying hard to come to terms with what JT saying. 'But JT, even if, and that's a big IF, I could somehow work through that, it still doesn't explain why. I need to figure out what's triggering it, and why so often now. What if it just gets worse? I need you to do tests and check me over and find..."

"Vincent you know we're already doing the regular tests with the better equipment, and I can assure you that nothing was different this week than last or the week before that. Sure there's the occasional improvement in your senses like when you developed night-vision, but nothing that would cause you to start transforming in the middle of the night...and certainly not just for a quickie." JT couldn't help himself this time, he giggled.

"Then we need to do different tests!" Vincent glared at his friend.

"Like what? I already told you there's nothing changing physically. But yes you're right, if it's happening this much then something's going on." JT sighed. "I have an idea big guy, but you might not like where I'm going with this." Vincent eyed him suspiciously. "Just keep an open mind."

Vincent felt even more miserable than he had when they started. If it wasn't anything physical and he wasn't going to like it, then what? JT had better not be about to suggest that he would need to stay away from Catherine...okay maybe for a short while as he sorted this out, but not for good, no way. They'd come too far and loved each other too much for that to ever be an option. No, JT had better think of something else.

JT took a deep breath and continued on. "It's not your DNA Vincent, and it's not Catherine..."

"Then what JT, what is it?" Vincent interrupted.

"It's you."

To be continued...

©2013 Judache English