The Accidental Husband: Chapter 11
Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long to update, especially after that cliffhanger. School started and I've been overwhelmed by too many things to do.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine
Like always, it was the first thing she saw when she opened the door: the bright red face on the bare wall, displayed like a work of art.
Seeing it again made a thousand, icy shivers pass over her spine, made her freeze in her place, and made her breath catch in her throat.
"Lisbon?"
His voice sounded behind her in the hallway, but she didn't turn to face him. Maybe she was in shock...
"Lisbon, I can..."
"Don't." She said, shaking her head. She turned in the threshold, looking at him. He was wearing his boxer shorts and his unbuttoned shirt from the night before; his attire and the way he looked at her seemed vulnerable. More so than she'd ever seen. But there was something else in his eyes as he looked over her shoulder and saw the bloody face on the wall behind her. Something dark and scared and angry.
She swallowed, feeling intense regret sinking down on her. Regret for falling for this, regret for the mistake she was about to make... Regret for neglecting to bring a gun...
"Who are you?" She asked, her voice wavering despite her greatest efforts to keep it steady and calm.
He was silent for what felt like forever; his blue eyes looked past her.
After waiting too long, she decided that who he was wasn't all that important. She rushed off past him, down the stairs. She had to get her keys, get into her car and get out of here.
"Lisbon." He called after her and she heard his footsteps as he ran to catch up. He grabbed at her elbow, but unlike the night before she didn't let him overpower her and pull her towards him. She pulled back and escaped his grasp, running down the stairs.
He caught up to her when she got downstairs and went for her bag and her keys. He grabbed her at the shoulders and turned her to look at him.
"WHAT?" She yelled, turning her face away.
"You took him away from me!" He screamed at her. His strange outburst made her look at his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and what she saw there was unexpected. His eyes were watery and already single tears were escaping and running down his cheeks; they were wild with emotions that she couldn't even begin to place.
"I what?"
"You took him away. He was supposed to be mine; I was supposed to kill him! And then you and your team started working the case."
"Two years ago..." She remembered now. The Red John case was newly assigned to her team – an unexpected break came. One of the serial murderer's twisted little friends slipped up – a stupid, young man named Hardy – and he lead them right to him. Red John died from two bullet holes, shot from her gun.
The name Jane...
Images started flashing through her mind; two victims of that name, a woman and her daughter. Some records of the father's mental breakdown stapled onto the file...
"Two years ago you took your revenge from me. My redemption." He said. His eyes were faraway now, his voice a low rumble. "I didn't know what to do for some time... Until I realized the only way I could receive redemption, was to take my revenge on you..."
She looked up at him. Her own eyes were now brimming with tears now as well; tears of fear, of anger, of extreme sympathy for the terrible things this man had to endure. And then of the realization that she had been played like a puppet on a string.
"You set up the glitch."
He didn't respond to her statement. "I read up on you; found out who you are, what you are. The workaholic supercop with the cool and calm reputation; then I read an email to your brother saying you got engaged..."
"How did-..?"
"And then I realized what I had to do. You're a middle-aged woman; you have workaholic habits; this is your one chance at love. I knew that was my chance."
He was panting by the end of his speech. He looked up at her; for the first time since she opened the door upstairs they made eye contact. And for just a fraction of a second she saw a glimpse of the man she knew the night before. The utterly complex, completely overwhelming, breathtakingly beautiful person she got to know. With whom she connected so deeply with. It was like just a flutter of light passing over his face.
"S-So..." She stammered, and she realized that tears were falling on her cheeks. "So you created the glitch to mess up my relationship with Drew?"
"I had to..."
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. After a few moments of silence she pulled out of his grasp; with a frown and one last, lingering look, she grabbed her bag and the pile of papers off the coffee table and left.
X
The sound of her SUV's screeching tires as she pulled out the driveway and sped away made his knees go absolutely weak, and he sunk down to the ground. He leaned back and the sharp edge of the stair dug into his back. But he didn't care...
A deep sigh puffed out into the silence. What was wrong with him?
Of course he knew the answer.
Revenge.
The thing that plagued him every second of every day, that's been depriving him of dreams and replacing them with vivid nightmares instead. It made him live a half-life ever since that terrible night he discovered Angela and Charlotte, lying there on the bed...
Tears stung his eyes just thinking about it.
What was he supposed to do? What would anyone do in his position? There was no prescribed reaction for discovering your wife and child murdered and mutilated. Revenge was the obvious one; but what when the revenge is taken away from you?
Apparently then you get obsessed with the raven-haired, petite supercop that took the serial killer down. You read up on her; on the cases that made her career. You hack into her email account and get to know the person behind the newspaper articles and PR-appearances. And you pull every string you have to pull left from your old fake-psychic days to create an epic, untracable "glitch".
One that would absolutely and completely ruin her life.
But then a completely unexpected thing happened.
She wasn't what he thought she'd be.
Patrick Jane, the amazing charlatan that sees all and knows all, was wrong. She was nothing like the cold-blooded, gruff cop-cutout he had imagined from the emails and newspaper clippings; he knew it the first day she showed up at his door, and really realized it the day of their lunch date. She was possibly one of the most complex people he's ever known – excluding himself of course. She was naively righteous and unfortunately damaged; though her aggressive leadership style was almost always apparent, she had the kindest spirit and a never-ending sense of compassion. She was intelligent and witty, and breathtakingly beautiful.
And more than once during his little game, he found that he forgot about his little plot. While sitting and talking for hours, with the crashing waves and a moonlit night as background, he got lost in her vivid green eyes, her charmingly crooked smile and the sharp sarcastic comments she made at his jokes.
For several minutes he wasn't Patrick Jane, the only family member left from a tragic Red John-murder; he was just Patrick, and the name slipped comfortably and beautifully off her tongue.
He couldn't help asking her if she really loved Drew. The way she was looking at him... He knew that in that moment, she felt more for him. And he didn't want to lost the moment, lose her, ever.
The fight that ensued wasn't part of the plan; neither was sleeping with her.
But what does that matter now?
It's all in shatters...
He had failed on two counts.
Not only will he never avenge his daughter and wife, even indirectly.
He might also have just ruined the only chance of happiness he would ever receive again.
So there you have it! That's the dramatic backstory! I hope you guys approve and that it's not an anticlimax. Next chapter: the fall out. Please let me know what you think!
Much love, Zanny