The Hiding Place –Part 11

Silence is a text easy to misread. A.A. Attanasio

The silence was deafening. Inescapably so, Jason wanted her to talk. He didn't care what subject just as long as he couldn't hear any of his thoughts. The situation that was developing between them was distracting and disturbing. He was helpless to change the progression of trust that was tentatively growing between them.

He wanted to make this worse, for her sake. Curse her out, push her away so she'd never come back, but that wasn't a viable option in his weak condition.

He hadn't planned on her. He was an in and out sort of man. Primed for surprises as much as he hated them, he knew they were an everyday part of life. The unexpectant was one of the main reasons he chose this line of work, he worked well with the unpredictability because there was a steady function underneath the chaos.

Jason glanced up from the bowl of soup for the first time since she had come back. She had left hastily and Jason figured that was that. She obviously didn't want to confide in him and he didn't blame her. Not that he cared when he reflected on the tangled circumstances. Her hesitance to trust him was no skin off his nose. Whether she poured out her hurts or feelings to him didn't matter, just as long as she eventually confided in someone.

Everyone needed someone, he summized, in the long run of life.

The girl was fidgeting again. She must have not realized she did it because it was always when neither of them said anything. He guessed her nerves were raw from playing the back and forth game, not that he could blame her. Her life had become a sea saw of emotions. Nothing about what was going on was normal. She had to give herself a break.

Still, before she had rushed and excused herself, she had appeared on the verge of telling him something. Just remembering brought back some of the irritation inside him. He was completely useless to himself right now and she was the only pleasant thing to fixate on.

His concentration skipped back to her just as her hand brushed over her covered knee. Her long pale fingers wrapped around the curved bone delicately and with careless appeal. She had piano fingers, pliable. They looked like they could wrap around any shape and form and cause a warm sense of comfort.

The abstract thought bulldozed through him, his body sending it's own involuntarily warming shudder through out his arms and legs, spreading into his stomach like a dull bellyache. The strange feelings made his skin flush and he gripped the bowl tighter.

" I don't get along with my family."

Her smooth voice washed over him, releasing the opposite effect, reprieving his body of the momentary insanity.

He didn't pretend to understand. Family was something he was never big on. Well, it was technically never something he was a part of.

He didn't nod, just waited, his head down but his guarded eyes on her.

The wheels in her head seemed to be turning this small confession over and over in her head. Her body and face were all faced straight in front of the room. He didn't know what she was waiting for, but he wasn't about to hold her hand. She had to find her own way to trust, he thought dimly, even though it was with the wrong person.

She blew out a long ragged sigh.

" I never quit felt like I fit in. I mean, I guess everyone feels like that at one point in their life." She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes lost in perplexity. " It's weird because I think I'm over it. I mean I'm old enough to know that my parents really do love me and everything they've done has been for me and my sister, it's just. I dunno…no matter what I do I always feel a step behind them for some reason."

" All of them?"

" Mostly. My dad and I have this bond, but it gets strained because of my mom. She's not the most nurturing of mothers. I mean she's great, but she and I, we just never connect. We never had. The only thing we ever can really talk about without getting into an argument is Tommy."

Her face was clouded in loss again. " Tommy?"

" Yeah," his voice jerked her from straying on another path. " My baby brother. He's great…he's kind of my, well, as sad as it sounds, my best friend."

" He's a kid?"

She nodded, glued in concentration to some invisible force. Jason could guess it was the past but with her he could never be sure. " He's two and half actually." The smile that blossomed from her mouth was big and unadulterated in pride. " He's the most beautiful little boy."

Jason snickered and that little sound broke the spell over her. " What?"

He shrugged. " Nothing. That's just what all people say about their own kid."

" Yeah I guess." She spoke a little self consciously. Jason saw a faint red shadow creep in over her cheeks. He bit down hard, not used to tasting his foot so much in such a small amount of time.

" You don't like kids I gather?" She asked, brushing the springing curls from the side of her face to behind her ear. Her sudden inquisitiveness was nicely placed from years of practice he gathered.

He placed the bowl between them. Waited a bit, swallowed, uneasy with the questions being turned on him. He also didn't like that he liked the way she blushed. He almost hoped it didn't fade from her cheeks, but part of him wanted it gone because it was a reminder of why it was there in the first place.

" I never thought much about it." He spoke apathetically, but plain in truth.

" I guess elementary ed wasn't your major in college then, " she mocked softly, shattering what he was planning on saying.

His answer slipped out, unconscious and soft. His gaze absorbed by her mouth. " Guess not."

She didn't notice. Her eyes never stayed in once place and in that minute he wanted her look at him. " I never had much use for school."

She seemed genuinely surprised by the absurd idea. " Really? I love school. Especially English. I mean all those great writers, their brilliant works and how they relate even now to our culture and time. Like Shakespeare, his idea of love and morality has surpassed the bounds of time and even the changing significance of love…"

Something must have caught her attention because she stopped automatically as if catching herself from doing something wrong. She brought her knees up to her chin, resting it there. " Sorry," she said sheepishly.

This was a first. Jason didn't know how to react to a woman. The flare of passion that caught in her cheeks and burned in her eyes was the first sign of life he had ever witnessed in her.

And over books no less. Jason wasn't exactly an illiterate, in fact, his teachers had said he had the brains to make honor roll, he just didn't have the motivation. The kind of rushes he got didn't come from paper. They were things he touched and felt, they ran with him when he edged passed death, razor blade thin odds- that was what made his insides jump.

" Actually, no, I'm not sorry."

Jason, folding one arm over his stomach, placed his hand over his wounded side. He watched her brain work and found it mildly entertaining that she was so easy to read sometimes and other times she was this pint-sized enigma.

" You think I'm a dork, don't you." Her tone wasn't accusatory, in fact it was said pleasantly if not for the assuming quality it held.

" Do you really care what I think?" He continued obliging his appraising nature.

" No." She nodded for strengthening reinforcement. He believed her either way. " I just…I know what guys like you think. You see a girl who likes book and you just assume you know..."

That perked up his vocal chords. " Guys like me?"

The amusement in his question scarped some of the cyncism rising up. " Yes, guys like you."

His eyes had the habit of squinting on their journey to understanding the something or someone they were studying, dissecting; that journey never appeared to have an end with her.

When she made no attempt to expound and just twitched her button nose up at him as it rose superiorly, the urge to climb over to her, erase the smug adorableness from her and replace it was something far more shocking almost overcame him. " You're a snub."

The small fire that had been lit before roared even though his words were said playfully if not a bit miffed by her insulting summation of him.

" Me? I didn't say anything."

" You didn't have to. It's written all your face."

" Admit what you were thinking and maybe I'll explain what I meant" Her slanted stare dared.

" Thinking…when?"

She huffed, the small hairs around her forehead stirred. " Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you."

" Isn't that what you assumed I was." He hadn't realized he had been leaning more and more forward, near her.

" And what did you assume when I went on my little burst about English literature and Shakespeare?" Her left brow arched.

" I'd never seen someone talk that long and fast without losing their breath."

Jason couldn't stop himself from anticipating her reaction. The flush in her face was present and awakening. It spread an awareness over him, like the small pale fingers he was staring at before were gliding across his skin.

" I ramble."

" I noticed."

" My mother hates when I do that. Now I just don't even try anymore."

" Your mother sounds like a real peach," he replied flatly, annoyed her distraction had worked on him. What was this their original topic of conversation before?

" She's fine. I think I'm the one that's got something screwy going on. You should see her work. Whether she's at home, playing with Tommy, making dinner, cleaning, she's just perfect at everything. She never breaks stride, she never gets hysterical or breaks a dish. She doesn't have a clumsy bone in her body."

She laughed again but this time it was laced in bitterness. " And of course my sister is just like her. Beautiful, confident, the perfect combination of lady and woman. It's sickening."

" Why?"

" What you mean why?"

" Why do care they are like that?" His probing was genuine, but he saw her flinch and straigthen. He ignored the defiance he saw creep through her and asked. " Are you jealous?"

Her shoulders squared, the temperature between them dropped twenty degrees and she made no attempt to hide the defensive wall she quickly erected around her.

" Tonight, when everyone's sleeping I'll bring up a basin so you can wash yourself."

His voice bordered on insistence, raspy in its' taunt. "What? I hit a nerve."

" Was the soup enough?" She sat up looming over him, but the accompanying glint in his eyes along with hard displeased line of his mouth it might as well been him standing over her. She played coy, at least she hoped that's what she was giving off. " I'll be back in a couple of hours. If you can manage…"

" I might need help." He smirked, pleased when her nostrils flared out.

" We'll see." She walked away, knowing he hadn't broken his gaze from her.

" What are you hiding from?" He almost demanded, his tone flipping from light mocking to a severe order.

Elizabeth froze, it was slight but he saw her body become immobile, for a second. " Who said I'm hiding?" she whispered.

She turned to gaze back at him, her eyes foreign to his again. " Aren't you?" he asked out of breath. His chest rising and falling from a pressure he wasn't familiar to.

" And you're not?" she asked, fully turning to meet the impenetrable wall of his stare.

" No." He didn't have to think about that one.

Her eyes bore into his, doing their own bit of inspecting. " I don't believe you."

His look plummeted hers, making her step back. She leaned behind her into the wall. Her body liquefying under him. Her expression strained from keeping up with him. " You don't have to believe me," he whispered. " We all have things from our past we'd like to forget, but they're there no matter where you go. You can't run from who you are."

" Maybe not." She threaded her hands through her hair, the ponytail loosing, the hair falling out at the sides. " But you can learn and change. Grow from it. That's what I'm trying to do. That's not running away to me…it's making sure I don't make the same mistakes I did when I was younger."

" With you family?"

" Yeah." She admitted lowly. " Everyone."

"You're young. I'm sure you couldn't have wrecked your life that much."

" There's no age limit for regret." She answered dryly. She finally peered back in his directions, her eyes jumping between his. " You don't regret anything you've done ?"

His answer was on his tongue and out of mouth before he had chance to think it over.

" No," his gaze altered, the color transforming from a shadowy blue to diamonds.

" But I think I'm going to."

" Boss?"

Sonny dashed his signature at the end of the contract. He leafed through the pages at least a hundred times in the last hour, but for some reason that sense of peace that usually companied him when reading through contracts wasn't there. " What Ritchie?"

" Uh, Marco told me you wanted to see me when I got in from checking on Prozzi."

" Yeah, how'd that go?"

Ritchie walked his way into the dark burgundy penthouse. He was usually stationed outside and never got an opportunity to get a good look at his boss' living space. He made his way over to the dark wooded desk. It was polished and fancy, but undecorated.

" Prozzi stayed at the hotel. From what I've heard he wants nothing but peace. He's happy with the way you run things here. I don't think that's going to change boss."

" Did I ask for you opinion?" Sonny swept his hand over the stapled set of paper in front of him.

" Boss, I was…"

" When I want your input I'll ask." He gave his bodyguard a black look, scowling at the audacity of the young man beside him. " I asked what happened." Sonny gestured, his hand waving. " Not what you think I should do. Prozzi is my problem, not yours. You tell me where he's going, what he eats, where he sleeps. You worry about that. I take care of the rest."

" Okay boss." Ritchie spoke low. " Is that all?"

" Get the jet ready."

" Why?"

Sonny rose, meeting the young guards' bewildered expression. " Do I need a reason. Get the fucking jet now."

Ritchie backed away. Nodding instead of answering. Mr. Corinthos was obviously in no mood for company. He hated when he was like that. It seemed to be all the time now that Jason wasn't around.

Sonny's eyes stalked the young employee. Even after Ritchie had closed the door Sonny refused to look away. His temper was out of control. He was getting fucked from all sides and the last thing he wanted to hear was some young punk guards' opinion on his impending enemy.

He pressed the speed dial button on his phone, listened to the numbers beep in his ear. The haggardly voice on the other line cleared its' way through a cough before there was any greeting. " Hello?"

" Benny. I'm going out of town. I should be back tomorrow night the latest."

" Mr. Corinthos. I don't think that's a good idea, sir. We have negotiations with the Prozzis coming up."

" I don't care. I'm telling you to watch the warehouse while I'm gone. This is urgent."

" May I ask sir, what is so urgent that you need to leave so suddenly?"

Sonny smoothed his hand down his silk tie, played with the end. He licked his lips like an unsatisfied jungle animal, preying for a good hunt." I think it's time I paid Mr. Webber a visit."