Promises to Keep
Chapter 8
...
Dropping his go bag on the large bed, he looked quickly around, surprised by the size of the room Burke had provided. He sauntered over to the three windows and was pissed to discover he was envious of the incredible view that stretched out to the ocean. The sun had just slipped below the horizon and its soft glow still tinted the scattering of clouds as the sea began to darken, turning the color of steel and matching his sullen mood. He hated that he envied the man this view, that he envied him for anything, but what he hated more was that the cold prick was Ruthie's father. Recalling the man's snide comment about Ruthie being enamored of him, he realized that Burke envied him for that and his lips flickered briefly into a slight smile. The asshole was jealous.
Growing up poor had left him with a somewhat "fuck you" attitude toward people with money. He had never really cared about money or sought to accumulate wealth, working only to pay his way toward the goals he had set for himself. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the finer things in life, because he did, but he didn't need those things to be happy. He had always gotten ticked off by the condescending attitude of some of the high priced attorneys he'd dealt with at the DA's office when they'd discovered where he'd grown up. He never tried to hide where he was from, taking a perverse pride in throwing it out there if someone asked just to see how they would react. It was how he discovered whether someone was worth the effort to get to know. He kept the dark trauma of his childhood private and the people who did know the things he had suffered as a child were family or as close to it as he would ever get. That was ammunition he wasn't willing to share with people he didn't know and implicitly trust. Coming from a broken home made him acutely aware of the bombshell that hung over Ruthie's head and he knew how devastating it would be for her if Burke decided to reveal their true relationship.
His anger still simmered over his earlier confrontation with Burke. Being forced to share even the barest details of his time with Jürgen had left him shaken and feeling vulnerable in front of a man he knew would use that information to his advantage. He wasn't intimidated by Burke, but there was definitely tension between them. Revealing that he knew Burke's secret hadn't helped. The cold anger he'd seen in the man's eyes let him know that he was permanently on the guy's shit list. Men like Burke liked having an advantage over their adversaries and he had no doubt they both considered the other an adversary. Even though he had only just met Ruthie, he felt a deep need to protect her and his instincts were telling him that Burke was dangerous for her and he didn't care that he was her real father. Hell, if anyone knew how dangerous a real father could be, it was him. Callen had cautioned him before leaving, reminding him that he was just a bodyguard on assignment and warning him not to let his emotions rule his head, but now he was afraid that advice had come too late.
He watched the lights sprinkle on across the city as the sky deepened and he suddenly felt very tired, his head starting to thunder with pain once again. He turned to rummage through his bag, taking out the pain meds Kensi had gotten for him. Seeing her that morning had pulled him out of his morose mood, but now, as his head pulsed, he wished she were here to take his mind off of where he was. He didn't want to be under this man's roof or anywhere near him for that matter, but if Ruthie was here, it was where he needed to be, no matter how uncomfortable the situation was. After downing a couple of pills, he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, examining the darkening bruises on his face and trying to get on top of his increasingly shitty mood. Hearing a soft knock on his door, he was grateful for the distraction.
"I thought you might be hungry," Sandra Walters said, holding out a tray of sandwiches and a crystal glass filled with sparkling water and a slice of chocolate cake. To say he was totally surprised would have been a definite understatement.
"You didn't have to do this," he said, stumbling over his words.
"You've already eaten then?" she asked, obviously embarrassed.
"No, but...
"Then please, it's the least I can do after how I treated you this morning," she said, pleading with her eyes and causing him to take the tray. A low growl from his stomach made them both laugh, easing the awkwardness between them.
He could feel her eyes on him as he set the tray on the glass table in front of the small couch in the sitting area. She walked tentatively into the room and looked around and he wasn't quite sure what to say. She was an attractive woman, maybe five or six years older than he was, with straight, warm brown hair that curved under just above her shoulders, a scattering of freckles across her small nose, and large brown eyes that nervously scanned the room. Ever so often she chewed lightly on her bottom lip, reminding him of Ruthie, and he wondered why she had come.
"Please, sit," he finally said, indicating the couch as he settled into a white, low slung chair.
"I hope you like turkey," she said shyly. "I think the chef used aioli on it, so it should be good."
"He has his own chef?" Deeks asked as he took a bite out of the delicious looking sandwich.
"Of course. Only the best will do for Preston," she said, laughing lightly. "You should see the kitchen. I don't think I could find anything in there. It's so big. He's always had exquisite taste. You'll have to get him to show you his wine collection."
"Mrs. Walters, I'm not your typical house guest," he said quietly. "Is there something you want to say?"
"My husband called and told me that two other men had been killed trying to protect my daughter," she said.
"Yeah, unfortunately that's true," he said, suddenly not hungry anymore.
"How badly are you hurt, Agent Deeks?" She asked, leaning slightly forward and reaching out to rest her hand on his arm. "I mean, you really do look awful."
"That bad, huh?" He smiled and she smiled in return. "It's just a concussion. I'll be fine."
"I want to apologize for how I acted this morning," she said. "You risked your life and all I did was yell at you."
"You were in shock, Mrs. Walters," he said gently.
"Still, that's no excuse. I could see you were injured," she said quietly, gently squeezing his arm before releasing him. "Please, eat. You need your strength, and the cake is quite delicious."
"You sound like my operations manager," he said, and picked up the sandwich. He ate in silence, unsure why she was still there, but he was very hungry and the cake was amazingly good.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?" she said as he ate his cake. "Where are you from? Did you grow up around here?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You saved my daughter's life and I don't know anything about you," she answered. "Please. I'd like to know."
"I grew up in Reseda," he said, matter-of-factly. "Worked my way through college and law school, passed the bar, worked for the DA and then went to the police academy and became a cop."
"I would never have guessed you were an attorney," she said softly, "How did you become a federal agent?"
"I started out as a liaison from LAPD," he answered briefly, uncomfortable with all the personal questions. "Anything else? I'm getting a little tired."
She stood quickly then and moved toward the door, pausing before turning to ask another question.
"You didn't happen to go to UCLA did you?" she said with a wide smile as she took a step toward him.
"Pepperdine," he said, his suspicions growing the longer she stood there smiling softly at him.
"You seem angry with me," she said, pursing her lips into a small pout.
"I have a question for you," he said solemnly. "Why did you lie to me about how well you knew Burke?"
"I never lied to you," she said sharply. "I told you we were close friends from college."
"You also told me you didn't know what he did for a living," he said. "And that's not exactly true, is it?"
"I didn't think it was important," she said, and stepped quickly toward the door.
"Everything is important in a case like this," he said.
"But, not everything is your business," she said angrily as she walked out of the room.
Deeks watched her walk down the hall and he wondered what she had really wanted. He probably shouldn't have called her on her lie, but her personal questions had put him on guard and the way she had approached him and touched him, made him wonder what the hell she was playing at. He knew when a woman was coming on to him, but in this case, he couldn't figure out why and it had surprised the hell out of him. In the several days he had been at the farm, she had never done anything like this, so why now?
"You're losing it, buddy," he chided himself. "That guy must have hit me harder than I thought."
He shook his head, regretting it instantly as the room spun, and he placed his hand against the wall to steady himself. Exhaustion was slowly seeping into his muscles, but he needed to check on Ruthie, so he righted himself and headed next door to her room. She had been asleep since he'd gotten here and he hadn't seen her yet. Opening her door, he peeked in, taking in the dinner tray on the small pink table before walking inside. He smiled as he looked at the pile of stuffed toys and dolls unceremoniously dumped on the floor by the window seat, evidence that Preston Burke had spared no expense in trying to impress his daughter. When he turned to look at Ruthie, she was watching him with sleepy eyes.
"Hi sweetie," he said gently. "Feeling better?"
"Where have you been?" she asked, frowning slightly. "I've been waiting."
"Sorry I'm so late, but my boss made me take a nap," he said with a grin as he sat down on the end of the bed.
"Cause of your head?" she asked, quickly sitting up.
"Yeah."
"You look like a raccoon," she said with a giggle, but then quickly turned serious. "Does it still hurt?"
"I'm fine, sweetie," he answered. "Hey, pretty nice room you got here."
"I don't like pink," she said, making a disgusted face.
"Who you got there?" Deeks asked, pointing at the doll next to her.
"Wonder Woman," she said, her face suddenly bright with enthusiasm. "Wanna hold her?"
Deeks laughed as she handed him the small, slender doll and he actually felt himself blush as intimate images of Kensi flashed though his mind.
"Kensi says hi," he told her as he handed the doll back.
"Did you tell her about me?" Ruthie asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.
"I did. She wants to meet you," he said. "You two are a lot alike. She leaves stuff scattered all over the place just like you."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Those are pretty nice toys on the floor over there," he said with a crooked grin.
"I don't like 'em," she said grumpily.
"I think Ruthie needs her sleep, Agent Deeks," Preston Burke said abruptly from the doorway, his hooded eyes and rigid jaw making it obvious that he'd heard Ruthie's comment.
He noticed Ruthie's face take on a rebellious look as he stood up and she quickly scooted down under the covers and held her doll close, her eyes big as she watched them. He smiled gently at her before turning to face Burke, keeping his features under tight control so it showed none of the turmoil he was actually feeling. He caught Burke looking over at the unwanted toys and just for a moment he felt sorry for him, but that didn't last long.
"Ruthie, pick up those toys before you go to sleep," he said, his voice low and emotionless. "I expect you to keep a tidy room. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir," she said thinly.
"Agent Deeks, a word," he said boldly as he turned and left.
Deeks glanced back at Ruthie and mimed an exaggerated grimace of fright, making her giggle. Then he waved goodbye and followed Burke. He found him waiting at the top of the stairs along with one of the security guards and he took a deep breath as he followed them silently down the stairs and into the expansive living room. Two other security guards were in the room and fell in behind Deeks as he trailed Burke through the house and out onto the back patio overlooking the pool. He grew sullen as the men escorted him out, feeling closed in and under guard and adding weight to his already shitty attitude. Burke walked to a sleek sideboard and calmly poured himself a drink before turning to lower himself into the only chair there, slowly sipping at his bourbon as he stared stonily at him.
"If this is going to be a pissing contest, I'd just as soon skip it," Deeks said wearily.
"I didn't bring you out here to compare dicks," Burke said coldly. "I really don't think you'd win that one."
"Pays to have confidence in your own assets," Deeks laughed. "I know I do in mine."
"The man to my left is Malcolm Webb. He's in charge of my security," Burke said flatly. "The six man team answers to him and I expect you to check with him before any decisions are made regarding Ruthie's security."
"I'll be sure and keep him updated on any information he'll need," Deeks said quietly as he eyed the man.
"The two men behind you have been assigned to her and to you," Burke told him as he downed his drink. "They'll familiarize you with our security system."
"Do they have names?" Deeks asked lightly.
"I'm sure they do," he answered. "And, since you were once a detective, I'll leave that for you to discover."
"Been checking up on me, Mr. Burke?" Deeks asked quietly.
"He asked me to do that," Webb said.
"And just what are you interested in finding out about me, Mr. Webb?" Deeks' voice came out low and hard.
"Everything I can," he replied.
"Yeah? Well, let me help you with that. I wear boxers and I'm a fantastic surfer," Deeks said.
"One question, Agent Deeks," Burke said as he stood and took a step closer. "I noticed you cradling your right hand to your chest as you told me about your kidnapping. Just how badly were you tortured that you are still reacting like that when you speak about it over half a year later?"
Deeks' whole body became still except for his hands, which formed slowly into fists. There was a sudden roaring in his ears as he fought against the urge to hit the man. He had come to think of those terrifying days with Jürgen as private, something so intimate between the two of them that he was loathed to talk about it anymore, even with the people he loved. Now this colossal asshole was trying to claw his way inside those cruel memories, searching for an advantage, not aware or not caring how personal it truly was.
Slowly gaining back some control, he closed his eyes briefly before turning and walking silently back toward the house.
"I'm not finished talking to you, Agent Deeks," Burke called loudly after him.
"Yes you are," he replied as he entered the house and walked all the way through and out the front door.
Now he understood why Sandra Walters had come to his room. She was fishing for personal information to give to Burke. He pulled out his phone as he walked out into the middle of the expansive front lawn and quickly called Callen.
"Everything okay?" Callen immediately asked.
He was still so angry he couldn't speak and just stood there holding the phone to his ear.
"Deeks? What happened? You okay? Talk to me."
"Burke asked how badly I was tortured," he answered, his voice betraying how deeply incensed he was. "And I had a hard time not hitting him."
"Sonofabitch! He's baiting you, Deeks," Callen said tightly. "Don't react. It's what he wants you to do."
"I know. He's having his head of security check me out," Deeks said.
"Turnabout's fair play," Callen spit out. "I'll have Eric dig deeper on him."
"Has he hacked their security system yet?"
"He say's it's a closed system," Callen said. "But I'll drop by tomorrow and bring you some bugs."
"Sandra Walters came to talk and asked a lot of personal questions," Deeks said. "Don't these people know we're on their side?"
"They do seem a little paranoid," Callen answered. "She's definitely being manipulated by Burke."
"But why do they need to know so much about me?" Deeks asked. "I'm just here to protect Ruthie."
"Control. He's trying to figure out a way to control you." Callen said. "Burke has to be the big dog."
"You do know what an incredible straight line that is, don't you?" Deeks said, relaxing slightly as he talked.
"Well, verbally sparring with this guy is better than punching him," Callen said seriously.
"This guy's the biggest dick I've ever met," Deeks said. "But, he is trying to protect Ruthie, so I'll find a way to put up with him."
"Stay focused on that," Callen said. "And I'll see you in the morning."
"Better get here early, before Burke has me dumped in the pool or dressed up in a grey suit and tie," Deeks replied.
"Hetty might like a picture of that," Callen laughed.
"Which one? Me treading water or nattily dressed up?"
"I'll ask her," Callen said. "Now go get some rest."
"Okay. Thanks, man," he said softly.
"For what?"
"Talking me down."
"Anytime, kid."
"See you tomorrow, old man."
"Hey!" Callen barked, but Deeks only laughed and ended the call.
...
...
"What's up Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked.
The words that poured out of her senior agent were vehement and explosive as he recounted his conversation with Deeks. To say he was angry would be an understatement of the highest order. He was in full protective mode and his choice words for Preston Burke reminded her of the time he had come back from the first assignment she had ever given him. On that occasion he had been the one being manipulated by words that hit too close to home, and he hadn't known how to handle it. Instead, he had lashed out at the man with his fists, barely able to pull himself back from the edge of rage and she had suspended him for it. He was raw back then, exceptional at undercover work, but still vulnerable about his childhood, not unlike Mr. Deeks. Why it had taken so long for the two men to connect was something she still didn't understand. Maybe they were too much alike in their experiences and didn't like looking too deeply into that mirror image of themselves and their past.
She remembered the look on Callen's face that morning so long ago in Washington, when Deeks had shared his experience after he'd shot his father. She'd seen the anguish and the sympathy deep in his eyes when Deeks told of being assaulted by older boys at the Children's Home where he'd been taken. Afterwards, he had found it difficult to even speak, but he had encouraged Deeks, letting him know they were all on his side and held nothing against him. She could tell that Deeks hadn't expected that from him, and was genuinely surprised and deeply touched by Callen's support. She believed that morning had truly been the beginning of the two men's growing relationship. Listening to him now, ranting about the hurtful words Preston Burke had used against Deeks, reminded her how far they had come and how close they now were.
"Hetty? Did you hear what I said?" Callen asked, breaking through her thoughts. "The guy is pushing him to open up about his kidnapping."
"It would be difficult not to hear you, Mr. Callen, since you've been shouting in my ear for the past five minutes."
"Sorry, but I'm pissed."
"So am I, Mr. Callen," she said. "But, Mr. Deeks is going to have to deal with it. You can't be there to shield him and I don't think he would want you to. It's part of the healing process for him."
"You're right, but who the hell does this guy think he is, going after a federal agent like this?"
"You know exactly what kind of man he is Mr. Callen," she replied. "The dominating kind. The kind who has been given everything in life, but still needs the constant subservience of others in order to feel powerful. He's addicted to power, Mr. Callen and like any addict, he can't live without it."
"I feel as if we've thrown Deeks into the shark tank," Callen finally said.
"Mr. Deeks is a survivor," Hetty said softly. "He knows exactly what kind of man he's dealing with. His father tried to dominate him through physical abuse, but he finally fought back and survived. Jürgen tried as well, in a much more brutal fashion, and he survived even that monster, Mr. Callen. He survived and I believe it has made him stronger. Nothing Burke will throw at him can compare to what he's already experienced. Don't underestimate him."
"He's constantly surprised me ever since you recruited him," Callen said. "But for some reason, I'm more afraid for him now than ever."
"Because you care more deeply for him now, Mr. Callen," she said gently. "And he knows that and that knowledge will make him stronger as well."
"Whatever Burke asked shook him, Hetty."
"He hasn't talked about Jürgen to any of us in a long time," Hetty said thoughtfully. "He's trying to bury it all and that's not necessarily healthy. Burke's arrogance might just force it all out in the open, so he can see he has nothing to be ashamed of."
"You think he's ashamed of what Jürgen did to him?" Callen asked softly.
"Yes, I do, Mr. Callen, and so does Nate," she replied. "He hasn't shared everything that brutal bastard did to him, of that I'm certain."
"You think he'd share that with Preston Burke?" he said, obviously dubious.
"No, of course not. He would never do that, but it might get him to open up to you about it."
"Why me? Why not Kensi or Nate, or you for that matter?"
"Because of your newfound bond, Mr. Callen," she said. "It was cemented in the middle of this op and you were the one he just called to voice his anger and frustration. He wants to confide in you, because he knows you care for him now and that's important to him."
"This is all new ground for me, Hetty," he said. "What if I say the wrong thing?"
"If it's one thing I know about you, Mr. Callen, is that you have never lacked confidence."
"Still, you know I'm not good at this kind of stuff," he said doubtfully.
"We're never too old to learn a new skill." And he heard her laugh lightly.
"Deeks called me an old man and now you too?"
"Age is just a state of mind, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "I myself have never felt sharper and I'm pretty sure you are at the top of your game, so I have no worries that you will find a way to help Mr. Deeks and learn how to listen at the same time."
"I listen," he said, sounding offended.
"Of course you do, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "But listen to Mr. Deeks with more than just your mind. He's still vulnerable and he'll need your counsel."
After their conversation ended, she sat down with a glass of scotch and reflected on Callen's doubts about his ability to deal with "this kind of stuff", as he called it. He always guarded his heart carefully, but now he had opened it to Deeks and she hoped he wasn't having second thoughts. If he decided to distance himself from Deeks instead of dealing with the emotions that might come out, she was afraid it would do damage to both men, and they had both been damaged enough in their lives. She wasn't about to let a man like Preston Burke upset the delicate recovery of a young man who had suffered so much in the past year. If she had to become involved, she would and in the process she would teach Preston Burke a thing or two about the use of power.
...
...
