Jason had spent the day out of the apartment, wandering the streets of Paris – with his renewed recollections, the apartment was just too much; even smelling of Nicky, everywhere he turned he could see them together – their life before. Wandering in the fresh air he could get some perspective, well at least he could try.
It just didn't make sense, he thought pounding the pavement his eyes searching all around him as a reflex, trying to define any hint of danger. The threatening sky overhead matched his mood – grey bulbous clouds swirled above in a glutinous mass that threatened to alleviate itself over the city. Stopping on the Pont Neuf, Jason looked down at the Seine swirling below. How could there be so much history between them and Nicky never mentioned anything? Not even after he had broken away from Treadstone – did she not think that instead of him being relentlessly pursued and having no godly clue why, she could have mentioned who he was, where he came from and how they knew each other?
Watching a river boat meander slowly down the famous waterway, Jason considered Nicky. The last few weeks staying with her had been different – comfortable and even content some minutes and yet driven to distraction when he couldn't remember the things he needed to. Nicky had been comforting to him then, reassuring him. And yet all those times, she had the answers he was desperately searching for? Jason was angry at her and yet, for the first time in his quest for the truth, Jason did not regret what he had learned or wish that he had not learned it.
Then there was also the issue that Nicky had her own axe to grind at him – her outburst in the apartment indicated as much. Nicolette Parsons was the most infuriating person Jason thought he'd ever met as he sat there: a complete paradox of sweetness and gentility and yet also a locked box of pent up anger and resentment.
Kicking his foot against the unyielding stone, Jason turned his thoughts to what he'd learned: Born in Ohio, an only child; and although he couldn't recall it yet, he knew that his parents were dead. Treadstone would not employ an assassin who still had family to ask questions or uncover any truths. No, these men had to be ghosts. The thought saddened him and he remembered a conversation that he'd once had with Marie about whether any family was waiting for him – well it turns out he didn't…well, unless you count Nicky…
Jason shook his head to remove the unwanted thought, Nicky was not family – she wasn't anything anymore. Jason grinded his teeth as he thought of Nicky and Marie; his grief at Marie's passing had deadened in intensity slightly, it didn't feel like a corrosive liquid that filled his chest all the time anymore; just a dull ache that throbbed when he awoke alone in the mornings. Well, not when he was in the apartment, Jason thought of how being around Nicky alleviated his loneliness and made him smile, actually smile. And he thought of when he did this, how Nicky's face would light up and some of the pain in her blue eyes would lessen for a split second. As Jason stood there he wished he could understand the nature of her pain, and he found that he wanted to make her smile to see her dimples and those enthralling eyes of hers. Then he remembered Marie's lifeless body floating away from him in the river and stopped his musings about Nicky instantly: Guilt was a powerful thing.
Turning away from the hypnotic river, Jason realised that darkness had fallen. He turned in the direction of the apartment, his intentions clarified – there was still a huge chunk of information missing and Jason knew that it was the key to everything. Only Nicky could tell him and she would have returned home by now.
Yeah, sure, you're rushing back to see her for information said the irritating little voice in his head.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hey guys – sorry about being so quiet. Be back soon to tell you all how amazing you all are. By the way some of you are getting really close to guessing my storyline: cool!!
