Alas, here arrives the final chapter in this tale. I hope everyone enjoyed the story! It came out better then I hoped. The original version I wrote for class (which was minus Horatio and Marisol, in case anyone's wondering) was actually really different then this adaptation, but I was so glad when I was able to keep the basic plotline. It took awhile to figure out an ending, but I decided the ending of the original story would work. Plus I feel it's a little out of character for Horatio, but love does crazy things to people.
Peace Out! ~KC
Ps- For those of you who are avid readers of my Jessica/Ryan series, their hiatus will be ending the next time I update, which should be within the next week. The other story I want to post is super short, and also involves Jessica and Ryan…well sort of.
Chapter Eleven: How to Become a Fugitive in Three Easy Steps
Marisol rode in the Miami Dade County Prison van. She was the only passenger. She was on her way to the Florida State Women's Correctional Facility. It was three days after her trial, the trial where she had been convicted of twenty-seven different murders and other multiple felony charges.
She stared out the window, wishing she could tell him one more time she loved him.
There was a loud booming noise and the van skidded to a stop.
"What the hell was that?" one of the correction officers in the front asked.
"Don't know," the other replied. "Kind of sounded like a spike strip."
"Why would there be one of those out here?"
"Not sure, I didn't hear anything on the radio about one being placed out here."
They climbed from the van. Marisol listened to their muffled voices as they walked around the van. She jumped when she heard a loud noise and stifled shouts. Then there was silence. Marisol sat there, fearing what would happen next.
The door to the van slid open and the bright sun flooded into the van. Marisol lifted her cuffed hands, shielding her eyes from the sun.
"Let me see your hands," a man's voice said.
She held out her hands. The cuffs clicked and fell from her wrists. The shackles around her ankles and waist clicked and clattered to the floor of the van. Someone held her hand as they helped her out. The sun continued to blind her as the man before her handed her a set of clothes and a pair of flats. He walked away as she changed from her prison uniform. She watched as he heaved the unconscious correction officers into the cab of the van. He walked back to her once she had changed and threw a spike strip onto the seat.
She looked at him, dressed in dark wash jeans, a black t-shirt, black leather jacket, black flat hat, and his signature sunglasses.
"Horatio," she whispered.
He silenced her with a passionate kiss, holding her close.
"I realized you're right," he whispered. "I do still love you."
Marisol smiled as he kissed her again. He pulled back and held her hand, pulling her towards a silver convertible Corvette with the top down. Her light sundress fluttered in the breeze as she climbed in.
"Where are we going?" she asked as he started the car.
"Paris," Horatio answered as he put the car into gear and pulled out onto the road.
"Why Paris?" she asked.
"We never did get that honeymoon we wanted," Horatio said, handing her a pair of sunglasses and a large flopping sunhat.
"But I thought you agreed we wanted to honeymoon in the country," she said as she placed the hat on her head, adjusting it slightly.
"True, but the statue of limitations says that you can only be placed in custody if you're on American soil." He smiled at her as he held out a black velvet ring box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond and gold ring. "And Paris is anything but American."
Marisol smiled brightly as she held out her left hand and Horatio slipped the ring onto her finger.
"But you don't know French, and I certainly don't," she said, admiring the ring's beauty.
"Quite alright, we can learn," Horatio said with a satisfied grin. The light danced off the gold and diamond ring on his left hand as he turned a corner. "No better time to learn then when you're a fugitive."
"You'll be a fugitive now, too," she quietly said. "You're aiding me in my escape."
"I know," Horatio said with a smile as he sped down the street. "But I would rather run from the law with the woman I love and my child, then sit around feeling sorry for myself that you're gone again."
"So you really love me?" she whispered.
The Corvette stopped at a red light. Horatio leaned across the seat and kissed her.
"I love you more then anything, Marisol," he whispered.
"Do you love me enough to leave America and become a fugitive in a foreign country?" she asked between kisses.
The car behind them honked loudly as the light turned green. Horatio hit the gas hard and weaved through traffic.
"If I didn't, would I be doing this right now?" he asked her.
Marisol giggled and held onto her hat when it almost flew off her head.
"I guess that's true," she said with a bright smile. "What about your job and all your personal belongings?"
"Quit the CIA and left all my belongings for my friends," Horatio answered. "I took what was the most important and emptied my bank account. I presume we can figure it out when we get there."
"But do you have enough for us to get started?" Marisol quietly asked, obviously worried.
Horatio looked at her with a mischievous grin.
"I never called the insurance company and told them you were really alive," he said. "I would have had to prove you were alive, which would have revealed who you were. I couldn't bring myself to do it."
"So we're going to live off my life insurance money?"
"Absolutely," Horatio said with a smug expression. "Besides, the American dollar is worth more then the French currency right now. I think we can make it work if we're modest."
"Something you've always been good at," Marisol said with a laugh as the Corvette sped out of the city. "Where are we leaving from?"
"Jacksonville," Horatio answered. "Miami International would be too obvious. Might buy us a little time, if we hurry."
Marisol laughed again and leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"I love you, Horatio Caine," she said with a bright smile.
Horatio returned it with a beaming one of his own. For the first time in almost five years he felt truly happy.
"I love you, too, Marisol Delko Caine," he said as he pushed the accelerator down and the Corvette flew down the open road. "And I've always loved you."
"So now you're going to become what you've always fought against," Marisol said.
"I'd rather live a life of crime with you and our child then live any other life without you," Horatio said as the Corvette ripped across the pavement in the light of the bright Florida sun.
