I'm sorry it took so long,I've been busy.I had to travel and had the computer but no internet :( And now I have like a thousand stories to read! Special thanks to Verity and Aserene.You guys are awesome!!
6. Water Shows the Hidden Heart
Gibbs made his way up the stairs slowly. In the last months, he'd been avoiding the Director's office like the plague, but today in need of a few explanations. Vance being so quiet was a relief at first but Gibbs wondered if there was something else to his good actions. Tony, Ziva and McGee were back, his team was therefore reunited but he couldn't help wondering what had changed Vance's decision all of a sudden. Gibbs had even tried his best to piss reporters and sister agencies off but Vance didn't even reprimanded him and if it wasn't for Cynthia, he'd think the man was dead. Abby was radiant again, Ducky was still worried about his health and he was relieved that those kids were together again. That was a tremendous weight off his shoulders. He could at least concentrate in his internal struggles now.
In less than two weeks, his life had drastically changed. He'd lost everything and considered running away and forget about his own existence. Now he had a daughter, a team and probably a wife somewhere out there. The funny thing was that he wanted to be alone and they were all there right in front of him. It was so surreal finding out that his life was a lie, that part of it wasn't real and he questioned himself if HE was indeed real. He wanted to stop the world and stare at a white wall until he caught his breath and things made sense again. He wished he had someone to turn to because for the first time in his life, he was feeling like talking about them, about how he felt about losing them, how he'd been feeling guilty since forever. He couldn't believe it was happening to him. He'd seen it before more than once but never imagined himself being there. He'd lost his daughter's life and wished he didn't.
He really doubted that the turmoil was just God finally rewarding him. He reached his destination and was immediately met by Cynthia's sympathetic smile. He could tell she preferred working for Jenny. He didn't think she was so annoying anymore but suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he now didn't interfere in her job. She was on the phone, so he waited almost patiently. Jenny would think it suspicious but he had the best intentions. He stared at the door; it didn't have her name anymore but he remembered how he used to walk through it unannounced and how she'd react to it. He felt like he'd betrayed her, destroyed everything related to her; it still hurt to think what he'd done to her house. She loved that house.
"What can I do for you, Agent Gibbs?" Cynthia asked politely, interrupting his thoughts.
"Is the Director in?" he asked nodding to the door.
"I'm afraid not. In fact, he's not coming today"
Gibbs nodded in understand, thanked her and left a confused Cynthia behind.
Cynthia shook her head after the surprise. He'd thanked her. There was no doubt he'd improved his rebel behaviour. He wasn't his old irritating self anymore and it made her life so much easier but it was sad at the same time. Irritating was better than zombie mode. The phone rang once more and she picked it up. The first minutes were the most unbelievable as she thought as she was dreaming. Ghosts walk through walls, make weird noises but they do not make phone calls. This one did. She didn't know how long she just listened or spoken one word at a time before being able to formulate coherent sentences. The instructions she was given were too familiar, leaving no space for doubts and she suppressed the urge to jump most likely Abby would. She just couldn't help it, Vance was a bastard.
"It'll be done, Ma'am. So Director Vance..." Cynthia's voice trailed off, not really caring about hiding her excitement anymore.
The other woman laughed and Cynthia smiled herself at the sound "No more Director Vance I assure you, Cynthia"
Cynthia had so many questions; her curiosity was almost exploding inside her. She wanted to know what had happened, what was still going on, but she knew better than to ask. And she preferred to ask face to face anyway. There was a pause and she could almost see a pensive Jennifer Shepard before her eyes.
"How's..." there was another pause and Cynthia knew that Jenny was trying to find the words without really saying them "how's everything? Vance didn't destroy too much, did he?"
"We're at peace" Cynthia replied "Everyone is fine, as much as possible under the circumstances. Special Agent Gibbs' team is back and everybody is curious as to why Director Vance would do that all of a sudden"
"He didn't" there was yet another silence and Cynthia heard a heavy sigh.
"He's not anywhere near fine though" the younger woman revealed, almost whispering "I know it's none of my business but...why doesn't he know?" she asked shyly.
"I don't know how to tell him" Jenny told her, finally admitting it out loud, to her and her loyal assistant.
Many miles away, a man opened his eyes lazily after an amazing night and a fantastic dream. He rolled to his back, pushing the covers aside and rubbed his sleepy eyes. He didn't want to wake up yet as the day promised to be awful. He ran a hand across his naked chest and closed his eyes, telling himself it wouldn't take more than five minutes to get up and was soon half asleep. His bed was just so comforting right now and he'd be wifeless for the day, therefore, he need to feel loved and his bed loved him. He had just started to dream, approaching his own beach, when he felt a breeze touching his face and stubbornly, shut his eyes even tighter. He was about to reach the water, almost already feeling it against his skin, when he felt it again. It was starting to get on his nerves. Then, he felt the lightest of touches on his lips and turned his head towards it, attentive enough to hear someone giggling close to his face. He tried his best to stay quiet, hiding the knowing smile threatening to appear on his face, while feeling the mattress sink slightly on both sides of his head.
Being able to see the bright side of it, his arms circles her waist and she was soon laying on top of him. She stretched out against his body, her red hair framing her face, falling down his chest and lowered her head to kiss his mouth. His body was warm and she didn't want to leave his arms anytime soon. He reciprocated the kiss, showing his hunger for her, his hands slipping down her shirt, caressing her soft skin and she responded by pushing slightly away. He groaned at the loss of contact and she smiled wickedly before kissing his exposed muscular chest, her hands falling down to his stomach. She turned her attention back to his mouth and was soon eliciting sounds the both of them knew too well.
"I knew you were awake" she whispered against his lips. He tightened his grip on her, deepening the kiss, letting the sensations blur her thoughts. One of his hands tangled in her hair, holding her head firmly in place, granting better access. He flipped them over so he was on top. He trailed kisses down her body, not failing to notice the way she arched on the bed to meet his lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, taking both of his hands in hers to pause his ministrations. God, she'd be so late. He looked at her and her hands left his, grazed the side of his neck and caressed his face. His golden hair shone with the sun coming through the window and she admired his features, the tanned skin, the perfect body, the way his blue eyes sparkled his desire. Many women dreamt of a prince. She, on the other hand, had been lucky enough to find her own Greek god. And he loved her.
"You look so sexy when you've just waken up, with messy golden curls and this glint in your eyes" she told him, tracing his large eyebrows, eyelids, nose and red lips. He nuzzled her neck in response, expressing his own satisfaction. She let her head sink into the pillows, her hands gripping his biceps as he nibbled on her neck "You do remember I'm leaving in less than one hour, don't you?"
"Hmm?" his hands moved across her ribs, leaving goose bumps on her skin. He smelled so good.
"Don't do that" she told him, her body denying her statement in every sense, her hands moving to his bare chest, enjoying the feeling of his underneath her fingers.
He pulled away and she soon hid the disappointment evident on her face. He leaned back to kiss her lips, pulling back again. His hand slid down her sides and she felt tingles, her face blushing as he made his way downwards. His path led him to the waistband of her pants and he applied pressure to her waist. She could feel her body giving in, yearning for his touch. He raised her shirt a little, exposing her belly button and massaged her lower abdomen with his big hands. His fingers found the button and slow unbuttoned her pants, moving to the zipper. As he dragged it down slowly, his finger brushed against her panties. She closed her eyes and he heard her gasp. Her pants were slid down her body slowly, as he took his time to caress every inch of skin exposed. He slid it down her hips and he squeezed them, watching her underwear appeared in front of his eyes and kissed her through the thin fabric, delighted at how transparent the white seemed to be. He then found the path to her thighs, his fingers lightly grazing her skin, moving to the inner side of them. She felt his breath against her, his hands drawing circles as he got closer to where she desired him to go.
Her body tensed in anticipation, her heart racing, taking deep breaths. His tongue moved back south and she sighed, but he continued take the pants off, finally freeing her legs. She waited patiently, mesmerised by the attention he was giving her. His hands massaged each of her feet, moved to her calves and she could feel the tension building up inside her, her body arching more and more off the bed as his hands and mouth moved up. He explored her thighs again, licking his way to their inside, while his fingers moved in circles, her lips slightly parting. He moved her legs apart, kneeling between them. He pushed her panties to the side, one of his fingers brushing against her and he felt her moving closer to it. Looking up, he saw she was biting her bottom lip, before she spread them further. He let a second finger nearer to tease her, moving it against her entry. She was really getting into and for what she knew of him, he was there too. His finger slipped inside her and a moan escaped her mouth, his tongue soon followed, both caressing her buddle of nerves. She arched off the bed, leaning back on her hands to watch him, fists closing around the sheets as he moved deeper and harder. He knew how to get her there and she was getting closer and closer to the edge, meeting his movements with her hips. She threw her head back, groaning in pleasure as her muscles tightened against him.
Her arms tugged him closer, trying to draw his body over hers as she laid back on the bed. His hands moved up, lifting her shirt with them, while she kissed anywhere she could reach, her hands running through his golden hair, slipping one of her legs between his, moving her knee against his boxers, feeling his arousal. His hands froze and he licked his way up to her chest more fiercely. He didn't know if he could hold his desire much longer.
"Don't tease" he whispered, not really sure if he wanted her to do it or not. He straddled her waist to prevent her from moving and she raised her hands in surrender, winking at him, trying to ignore his hard member pressed against her and the tingles it caused in her body. She found it extremely difficult, considering how close he was to her hands, the heat emanating from him and his hot breath on her skin. They kissed once more, deep and slow, taking the time to savour each other whilst his hands moved to her chest. She had no idea how he was being so patient, but he was and she couldn't imagine how hard it was for him, considering she had a pretty good idea of the effect on certain parts of him. At this point, she was getting frustrated. She wanted to touch him so badly. He pulled away yet once more, grabbing her by the wrist and pinned her arms above her head, smiling at her, seeing the desire in her eyes. Grazing her skin, he took off her shirt, exposing the matching white bra. His hands cupped her breasts and stroked gently, his mouth on her throat. Throwing her head back, she let her hands wander to his hips, pulling him harder against her, feeling him hardening and growing. Her hands run up and down his thigh, massaging him with long strokes and he was soon more concentrated in her hands than in any other part of her anatomy.
She let her hands trace the edge, brushing her fingers against him before reaching her hands inside his boxers, loving the deep sound coming from his throat. She grabbed him, and his hips responded hard against her, her hands moving slowly at first. Then, she moved up to his length, turned on by how hard he was. She stroked him up and down, alterning pressure and speed, bringing him to the edge and stopping.
"I want you" she demanded, her hand still around him, guiding him inside her and flipping them over. He grabbed her forcefully by the hips, pulling her against his body before lowering her onto his arousal. She threw her head back, groaning at the exquisite sensation of him pulsing inside her. They made it hard and fast, urgency reflected in the deep thrusts. Everytime their hips met, she felt closer. They switched position and her legs wrapped firmly around his waist, wanting to feel all of him. Sweat was glistening his golden skin and she bit his chest hard, knowing she was close and he was there too. She came first, her muscles tightening around him, her nails digging on his hips. He followed soon and she watched as his mouth dropped open and he thrust once more, and another, before collapsing on top of her.
He pulled away, lying beside her and pulling her closer to him. Her left hand caressed his cheek and she kissed him softly.
"We should wake up like that more often" she said, causing him to laugh.
"I don't mind..." he replied, kissing her again. They smiled at each other and she suddenly remembered she had to do something very important.
"You could come with me, Paul" she offered, wanting him to be there to support her.
"Don't you think it'd be weird, Shannon?" he asked "I mean, he was your husband and he thought you were dead"
"Our relationship was more friendship than romance. You and I have been together for ten years. I know you better than I knew him" she explained "It's you that I love, so don't worry about being punched" she teased him with a smile.
"Would you still meet him if it wasn't for Kelly?" he asked as she got up and went to the bathroom.
She pause, giving it some thought "No"
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Gibbs stepped out of the elevator and into Abby's lab.
"Hey Gibbs" said Abby, truly smiling for the first time in months.
"No music?" he asked
"Not yet..." she said, shaking her head and sinking into her chair "You're sad, I'm sad" she muttered under her breath " My babies don't have results yet"
"I know. I need you to trace a call for me" he explained.
She nodded and outstretched her hand and Gibbs gave her the phone. Abby cocked her head to the side, staring at the object in her hand, shifting her attention to Gibbs and back to the phone.
"But this is yours. Why would you want me to trace a call for you? You're not in danger, are you? Because I could kick the bastard, call my friends, they are pros and all, and -"her voice was muffled by his hand covering her mouth.
"Just do it, Abby" he said
Abby turned to her computer and Gibbs waited, standing beside her, arms crossed over his chest.
"Last call received?"
"Yeah"
While Abby typed and clicked, Gibbs looked at the other monitor, his mind going back to the occasion in which the picture had been taken.
"Gibbs" Abby said for the second time, trying to get his attention "Gibbs!"
His head moved slowly and he looked at her like she was crazy "I'm not deaf, Abby. Do you have anything?"
"I have an address" she explained, pointing at the screen. He followed her gaze and stared in disbelief at it.
"I don't have a name but..." she turned around and he was already gone. She sighed and hugged the computer "Daddy is not good..."
Gibbs drove faster than usual, not caring about traffic lights or other cars. He did think about calling Mike Franks, know to what extent his mentor was involved in this whole mess. He couldn't believe that Mike had been lying to him for all those years. Mike had told Gibbs about Shannon and Kelly's death himself, he'd seen how lost Gibbs seemed after that. Mike had even given him the name and the address of their murderer and he went after him, killing the man that had done the same to his family. He didn't know they were alive and the man was still dead. He'd trusted Mike, had confided in him and Mike was there after his second coma. How was he supposed to trust him after that? A single lie had changed his life forever and he couldn't decide if he should be thankful or furious.
If it hadn't happened, he'd maybe never have joined NCIS. He'd never get married three times more. He wouldn't have met his team, Abby and Ducky. Kate and Decker would be alive. Jenny...he'd have never met Jenny. "Her last stand was protecting you" were Mike's words. He knew deep inside him he couldn't change to what he was when he was married with Shannon. He couldn't simply ignore his present. Each one of them had changed him and was now part of him.
He stopped and got up, staring at the apparently abandoned house. He made his way to the nearest window and looked through the glass. He couldn't see anyone but there was no doubt that the phone call was made from inside that house and he knew the house belonged to Mike Franks. However, the same Mike was supposed to be in a desert beach in Mexico, drinking and smoking to death. And if he wasn't there, someone else had called him, someone that, for some reason, had his number. He went back to the front door and tried to open it but it was locked. Was it possible that he was the only that didn't keep the front door locked? He looked for plants, a mat or something similar, somewhere to hide the spare key. He found nothing, so he did what he'd usually do in situations like that – he broke into the house. The door opened easily and he found himself looking at the living room, very proud of himself. This way was quicker and more practical.
He stepped carefully in, taking his time to search the place. The house looked surprisingly clean, given Mike's long absence and it looked tidier than it had ever had when he'd been there when his mentor lived there. There wasn't much furniture left and he guessed that Mike had sold everything. There was only a table, without chairs, an old piano – he couldn't imagine Mike playing it – a coffee table and a phone. He had found it, wondering whose fingerprints he'd find there. Deciding to return to it later, he walked to the bedroom that had always belonged to Mike. The bed was made, pillows were fluffed and once more, he couldn't imagine the old man being so organised. Mike could have rented the house, Gibbs considered for the first time but still didn't explain how or why the person had ended up calling him. As he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, he moved to the adjoined bathroom. In one word, it could be describe as claustrophobic.
The first thing he saw was his face in the mirror and looking down, a washbasin and a cabinet, with the shower and bathtub right beside the cabinet. While examining the tub, he guessed someone had taken a bath not so long ago. He walked forward, interested by the amount of items near the basin. There were bottles and bottles, lotion, perfume. He grabbed one of them and brought it close to his nose. The smell was sweet; it was definitely for women. He could feel some of it in the air as well, maybe shampoo. Had Mike found a new friend? The mysterious woman certainly smelled nice. It was then he realised the tap was turned on and his hand reached out instinctively to turn it off. Even if the water running wasn't too much, it irritated just the same.
After solving the problem, now his attention was turned to the concreteitself, and seeing what was on the inside of the basin, he strongly doubted it had been left turned on by accident. There was unmistakably a purpose there and he could see it clearly now. It was small, orange, made of plastic, with a white lid He picked it up carefully, revelling to his eyes the white pills that had been drowning only minutes ago. The labelwas soaked and he searched for his glasses with his other hand, only to find he had left them at his desk. He cursed himself for not bringing it but soon was narrowing his eyes and trying to read it. He looked for the light switch and turned on the lights. Stepping back, he placed the bottlehigher, moving his head slightly back and narrowing his eyes. The words were difficult to read given their current state but he was able to distinguish some of the letters. The first letter wasS, there was an E beside a P and a D at what he assumed was the end of the person's surname.
He observed the space between the two consecutive letters, considering the vacant spaces and comparing both sizes, that way he could figure out how many letters were missing. In the end, he came out with one letter between the first two and other two missing letter between the P and the D. He walked back to the living room, to the coffee table, searching for a piece of paper. He then walked towards the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. After all, there were no other sits. He started to write down, arranging the letters. There was a total of seven letters, he counted, so he had three missing letters to guess. He stared at the paper for a minute, drawing circles randomly. Had he finally gone insane this time? It couldn't be what he thought it was. It didn't make sense, wasn't a real possibility. No, it was wrong, it had to be wrong. He couldn't believe it; his judgement was just clouded by his emotional stress. He felt the walls falling around him, the walls he'd so carefully built to protect his sanity.
If he was right this time, if it wasn't just another of his illusions. No, it couldn't be real. Nevertheless, hope rose inside him and he felt exhausted, like all his strength had been released at once. The pen slipped out of his hand and he stared numbly at it, rolling down the table. Just as it was about to fall, he reached for it. If it had happened to Kelly and Shannon, it wasn't so impossible to happen to Jenny. After all, she had the status; she was the Director, while they were just the average people. Still, he wanted to believe that she'd trusted him more than that. No, he refused to believe that she wouldn't trust him. Again. He filled the gaps and stared at her now recognisable name. His fingers closed against the bottle, squeezing it hard, wishing to break it. Then the sample had been indeed hers. His head fell and he felt defeated, his hands covering his face. He sighed heavily, propping his elbows onhis thighs. He felt cold and stayed there motionless for at least thirty minutes without even noticing it.
"So, you're ready?" Paul asked his wife. She was in the bedroom, trying to find something "Shannon"
She turned towards him, holding out a small box "Photos" she said, shrugging.
He stepped closer and hugged her, kissing her temple "You say he's a nice guy, don't worry" he said and she nodded.
They pulled apart and made their way downstairs. They were met by two blue eyes and chocolate, chocolate all over the girl's little face. She smiled, her teeth now brow, hiding the rest of the bar behind her. They looked at each other and then to her, both trying desperately not to laugh.
"You're in trouble, young lady" Shannon said, while they moved closer to her. She run to the left and met Paul, then to the right and met Shannon and was about to run forward when two arms lifted her off the ground.
"You're never eating chocolate again, Sam"
Sam's mouth dropped open, her eyes widened and she looked like she was going to cry.
"She's just joking, honey" Paul said, playing with her blonde hair.
"No, I'm not" said Shannon.
When Jenny arrived at Mike's house, she noticed someone had broken into the house and quickly reached for her gun. She entered slowly, thankful for the first time that the place was just a tiny cage but at the same time worried about having her secret revealed. She searched the first bedroom and saw nothing, then moved to the second, the one where she spent the nights. The door was open and she saw him, sat on the bed, facing the white wall, with his back turned towards her. He wasn't moving; it looked like he was sleeping. She let go of her gun, fearing that her hands were trembling too much. She was nervous, her heart beating to the point of exploding. She knew this moment would come, she had to face him but she didn't know if it was a good idea to be left alone with him just yet. Her mind wandered back to the call sooner that day. Deep inside her, she hoped he'd trace it and find out the truth but he expected him to be angry to the point of killing her himself. She wasn't expecting him to be there until late in the afternoon.
She blamed herself for being so selfish. He didn't deserve this but to be honest, she wasn't sure if he would even be affected by her death. She thought that bringing Kelly back would be enough and that he'd be happy but then, why was he there? Was he waiting for her? Her original plan was reunite the whole family but Shannon was married now and in love with her husband. Jenny had talked to her, she was very friendly and Paul was a great guy. She'd met little Samantha. The girl was so cute, looked like an angel. Kelly had been the most difficult to find and to convince. She didn't trust her, not after talking to Shannon. Before knowing it, she was moving towards him, wanting to comfort him or maybe seeking comforting to herself. She stopped right in front of him, expecting him to look at her but he kept staring at the wall. Now she was not only nervous but worried. Jenny knelt in front of him and called his name but he didn't move.
"Jethro" she whispered
She got closer to him, her chest touching his knees and she put her hand on his thigh.
"Jethro" he didn't respond and her eyes began to burn with tears as she blamed herself. She'd made a big mess.
"Jethro" she said louder "Please, look at me" she pleaded, her hands cupped his face and his eyes blinked, as if he was waking up. He looked at her, thinking she looked familiar, yet different. His hand moved towards her face and he touched her cheek with the tip of his fingers hesitantly.
"You're real this time?" he asked not believing his eyes and Jenny heart was almost torned apart.
"Yes" she whispered, wiping a single tear that had escaped his eyes.
"I can't see blood this time" he reasoned to himself, looking her up and down and she wiped another tear "It's not another dream, is it? Will you be here when I wake up?"
"This isn't a dream, Jethro" she explained to him "can't you feel my hands, touch my face?" she asked, caressing his face.
"Why do you keep leaving me then?" he asked, staring at the wall again. He shook his head "No, you're not here" he said, shaking his head again.
Kelly paced up and down the basement. The memories were coming back to her but it was all so confusing that she didn't know how much was true and how much was imagination. She couldn't remember his face, maybe that was why she thought it wasn't real but last night…she'd had dreamt about it again, only this time she was able to his face. She had to find another place to stay, somewhere closer. After all, that was why she had returned to her father's house, not because she woke up one morning missing him. Well, she wanted to keep a safe distance from her mother too because the woman was certainly annoying. She wanted everyone to believe she was perfect, her and her perfect husband, with the perfect family. But Kelly knew it wasn't like that. Shannon Gibbs, known now as Alice Keppler, was repugnant. She had pity on that girl Samantha. Everybody that got to know her mother used to say that she should be very proud of being her daughter. She'd smile at that and nod, all the time thinking that her mother could go to hell for as much as she cared.
Kelly knew she was crazy, saying stupid things Kelly didn't want to hear. It was none of her business what she did or didn't do. She was an adult now; she didn't have to listen to someone who had never cared for her. Now that she didn't need a mother anymore, she was there. Where was she when she had lost her father? When she needed someone to be there for her? And her stupid husband, they were so sick together. She knew her mother was coming, to bother her again, to be a pain in the ass. She pointed the gun and shot, hitting the target again. She had to find him, the only person who had ever understood her, the only one that was truly devoted to her. She was so close now, had followed him, and studied him. He'd done everything he promised and she valued that .He was the only one who knew her secret too. He didn't mind the black doves. He had the one thing she valued the most and she knew how to get what she wanted from him. He would take the opportunity. No one would ever be able to stop her; not her mother, not her stupid lies, not her father. She trusted Jenny to be wise enough to stay out her life but she could make a thing or two just to make sure it'd happen.
At this point in her life, she wasn't afraid of getting hurt, of hurting others. She just did what was necessary; it didn't bother her at all. She looked down at the exposed skin of her legs, seeing the scars that had never left her alone and walked back to the bedroom to change. It was almost time. She took the shirt off, choosing another more appropriate. As she turned to the side, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The pale skin of her bare chest decorated by the marks he had left, the same with her belly and back. He'd said that each of them would one day say to her that she was his, only his, that it was the experience of her life and that she would never forget it. She knew about the others now, had found out everything about their lives and deaths, and could tell every little detail about their last months. She knew all the cases by heart. No one could catch him, no one knew him and he'd been lucky for that. But she wasn't like the others. She knew him, understood him, better than anyone ever could. That was the case of her life. She knew how he liked to play with them, how his body responded to their scream, how he'd come everyday. And now she remembered him. His face, his body, his smell, his touch. She knew how he smiled, how he tasted like, how he felt like. She had finally remembered everything.
She remembered how helpless she had been while doctors and her mother tried to convince her that she needed therapy but she knew what they were trying to do. They wanted to know what had happened to her but she wouldn't tell them. She couldn't even remember at the time. She felt pain all over her body but had no idea why it hurt so much and everybody looked at her like she was about to die or something. She couldn't understand what they felt when they saw her bruised body because she couldn't feel anything herself, just the physical pain. They told her she had been raped. They could never understand it. They weren't there, how could they tell HER what they presumed someone had done to HER?
They didn't know that he hadn't left a single cell of her body intact. That was it. And there was the baby. She had put him inside the jar herself, he had a name too. He was another black dove. He talked to her, telling her the things she wasn't able to remember yet. Once, her mother saw him and screamed in fear. It was just a child. Shannon had told her to let him go, that what she was doing wasn't right and that she needed help. That was three ago, after they had a huge fight, with her mother telling her those stupid lies again. She had left the house that day. They didn't want her baby, didn't want her. She'd never seen her mother again.
Of all the things she wanted to remember, his name was the most important and the hardest to find out. He'd never told her, in spite of all the time they stayed together. He liked action, action she'd give him; she was now ready for that. She didn't approve what and how he'd been doing things recently but it wouldn't take much longer. She'd found out where he lived and they'd meet again. She could almost laugh. Maybe he'd been indeed right; it was destiny pulling them to each other. She just hoped he'd be as thrilled to see her this time because she had big plans for both of them. No one would catch him because he was hers, only hers. And she couldn't wait to put her hands on him. Until it happened, she'd keep hunting him.
TBC
