Hi! Well, as a teacher, the school stuff never ends – especially since they seem to enjoy giving us more forms and paperwork and whatnots since we've been in-person and virtual teaching. ANYwho, this is a long chapter because I couldn't figure out where I would break it up. So, it was either two small chapters or one big one. I figured ya'll wouldn't mind a long chapter. Enjoy and please keep leaving feedback – it fuels my writing. :)
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The next morning when Houston awoke at 7am, C.J. was already up and dressed in ill-fitting jeans with a belt to cinch up the two-sizes too large pants, and a light pink, tight fitting camisole because the room was nice and warm. All of the bras they had put in the suitcase were for women with much larger cup sizes than she had. She gave the smallest one a go, but didn't like the way the cups collapsed and puckered under the Christmas red, long sleeved T-Shirt when she tried it on. And she wasn't going to stuff socks in it because, after spending far too much of her late teens and early twenties feeling inadequate because of her small boobs, she finally embraced the benefits, like being able to go bra-less anytime she wanted to.
After she took the garish holiday shirt off, she laid it out the on the bed for when they left to go to the FBI Field Office. It wasn't her idea of fashion, but "Beggars can't be choosers. And it was really sweet of them to do anything at all." she thought to herself. If it hadn't been for the women's generous donation, she'd probably be in a horrible, gray police jumper. The bag of things the FBI gave her contained personal grooming items, some make up, and one other item that made C.J. shake her head.
When she had awoke the hour before, she was in the same position she had fallen asleep in, after having gotten up twice to pump, each time she got back in bed Houston had placed his hand over hers and she had entangled her fingers with his. As her eyes opened, she experienced a mix of reactions at feeling her fingers intertwined with his; glad he was there, some attraction, and a tinge of lingering anger at him. She decided she wasn't going to think about her feelings right then; she was going to get ready to go to the field office of the FBI, so they could figure out how to catch Marty.
Houston, had spent a minute appraising her outfit and was about to make a snide remark, but then she grabbed the bag that he had given to her last night, and tossed it at him.
There was a look on her face that was an odd mix of irritation and humor. She chided, "I think the agents meant those for you." Having spent a lot of time around men, she knew how the "boy's club" humor could be.
He opened the bag and pulled out the box of large condoms and blushed. He had gotten to know the agents fairly well since the operation began, basically spending 24/7 with them, and he could only assume that they thought it might be funny. He shook his head, and blustered, "I… I didn't…" He thought, "I'm gonna kill those guys!" He then managed to state firmly, "I did not ask for these." She rolled her eyes, and he was about to defend himself further when there was a knock on the door, and C.J. moved to go to it. Houston urged in hushed tones, "Wait!"
She stopped and looked at him, then told him, "I ordered breakfast. I'm sure…" She knew the FBI agents would have inspected anyone coming down the hallway.
In the meantime, he was hopping out of bed and going to the door, nudging her to step back on his way there. He looked out the peephole and saw what appeared to be a bellhop with a cart. The cart had silver cloches, little metal pots of coffee, mugs, and glasses of juice. He was about to ask who it was, but then he saw the agent who had been assigned to their floor, Special Agent Luo, step into view and announce, "It's alright Ms. Parsons, he checks out." When Houston opened the door, the young, Asian-American man looked a little startled, he tried to recover his composure while he said, "Sorry, Mr. Houston, I didn't know…" And his voice trailed off. His very conservative upbringing didn't fully prepare him for seeing an unmarried couple like that. Sure, she was fully dressed… mostly. But the cold air that rushed in from the hallway made her dark nipples stiffen under the tight camisole, which caused him to avert his eyes immediately to Houston. But Houston was only in pajama bottoms and he had a box of condoms in his hand. What would his mother say if she saw this sight? He tried to shake the thought out of his head.
C.J. grinned at the many shades of crimson the agent was turning. "Go ahead and bring it in here," she called out to the bellhop as she went to the table and cleared away the newspaper and a couple of magazines she had taken off of the plane. As the bellhop put the plates and such on the table, she mentioned, "Houston, I don't have any cash on me, can you tip him please?"
He nodded and went to his room. He dumped the box of condoms on his bed, then grabbed his wallet, and returned with cash in hand, "Looks like it's your lucky day; all I have is a fifty."
The bellhop looked stunned, then smiled broadly, "Thank you, sir! If you need anything else, let me know." Then he pushed the cart out of the room, followed by C.J. who stopped at the door.
Special Agent Luo was still a bit pink in the cheeks, because his eyes were fixed on her breasts as she walked towards the door. She gave a little cough that caused him to shake his head, then look down the hallway. He sputtered, then told her, "Th-th-they wanted me to let you know that they'll be sending a car to come and get you a 9:30, so we'll escort you downstairs at 9:20."
She smiled sweetly and said, "Thank you Agent Luo, we'll be ready." Then she closed the door, and walked back to the table.
Houston snickered as the door shut, "I don't think he's seen much in his young life." Then his eyes fixated on the same thing the agent had been looking at.
She shook her head and giggled, "You're the one running around in just pajama bottoms."
"If you didn't keep it so hot in here, I would have left my top on," he countered, bemused. He had actually considered peeling his bottoms off in the middle of the night, but then thought better of it.
She had sat down, grabbed her fork, and stabbed at the scrambled eggs, stating forlornly, "I can't help that I miss Hawaii." Then she let out a sigh, thinking about how much she yearned to see their son. She spent most of her days wondering if he was okay or if he had been crying the whole time and refusing to take a bottle. She trusted Mama to take care of him, but it didn't lessen her longing to hold and nurse her baby.
He reached over and rubbed her arm, and replied sincerely, "We'll be home soon." He sipped his coffee, then mused, "We just need to catch this guy." He put his cup down and tucked into his fried eggs and bacon, and asked, "Tell me the whole story again." Which she did as they ate.
%%%%%%%%%
By 10am they were at the FBI field office, and had just begun to strategize. The information that Daisy had given them had been very good. They had managed to round up all of the people involved in the kidnapping; except Marty. He hadn't crossed the border anywhere that they could tell, so were working under the assumption that he must still be in the U.S.
When C.J. and a female agent stepped out of the room for a moment, Agent Laramie grinned at Houston and asked, "So did you make use of our gift?"
Houston glared at him, "No, and she didn't find it funny." Then he smirked a bit, "At least you got the size right." He was going to say more, but just then C.J. walked back into the room, so all of the men were trying to contain their mirth. She looked around, took one guess as to what they were all snickering at and rolled her eyes at them.
Once they had settled down, and went back over the information, Special Agent Howard offered, "He knows she runs every morning. Maybe if she went for a run, that might lure him out." C.J. was nodding her head, seeing where he was going with this.
Houston's protest to this plan was quick and firm, "No! Absolutely not! Now the lady has been through more than enough already and I won't let…"
C.J. cut across him, "It's not your decision, Houston." The look she gave him let him know that she meant business. She turned back to the agents and suggested, "I don't think I should run in the city. Too many ways for him to grab me and get away. Is there some place outside the city? A park perhaps?" Even though the thought of being grabbed up again by Marty scared her, she knew it would be the only way to get back home with any kind of peace of mind.
"Central Park is right up the street," suggested one agent pointing to the map.
Special Agent Howard shook his head, "This guy does his research. He's gonna know how close it is to the field office and that a lot of agents go there to run. No, we need some place a little further out." Then they all went back to studying the map. "What about the William Fredrick Hayden Park? It isn't too far." He pointed to the map.
One of the local agents mused, "There really aren't any places for us to hide. Not many trees in that area."
Another local agent pointed to the map, "Cherry Creek State Park has some nice trails, and better tree coverage." He looked at C.J., "Have you ever run at this elevation before?"
She shook her head, "No, but even if I walk, it won't seem odd to him that I'm outside exercising in the morning." She wished she had BABY so she could do her own research on the region.
After pulling out a map of the park and pinning it to the wall, the team strategized for a while longer about where to place the agents, how she'd signal them that Marty was near, what to do about tranquilizer darts. They decided to move Houston and C.J. to a hotel that would be closer to the park. The short drive from the hotel to the park would give Marty the idea that she was away from the FBI's protection.
Finally, Houston couldn't stop himself from interjecting, "C.J., with everything you told me about this guy…" The room had turned to look at him as he softly declared, "I don't think this is a good idea…" His gut was telling him that this Marty guy would be smarter than this.
She rounded on him, her raised voice was full of emotion, "I want to get back to my baby. If you don't want to help, then don't. But I want this over with. Now." She was holding back the tears and he knew it, so he looked down and lowered his head to acquiesce.
%%%%%%%%
They changed hotels later that day, and got one room with a king-sized bed on the fifth floor of the Hyatt Regency. The FBI had tried to get a room on the top floor, but there was a paramedic/firefighter convention in town, and that was the last room left. It was one of those modern hotels where the open hallways, that led to the glass elevator, all faced the spacious lobby and an impressive entry way that had grand stairways that led up to the second-floor dining areas, as well as another set that led to the basement level. Down on that level there was an indoor pool and an exercise room. From the railing outside their door, they could look down and see all the way down to the basement level, such was the openness of the lobby space.
Houston didn't say anything, but he was more than fine with this sharing-a-room arrangement, though he tried to contain his enthusiasm. C.J. seemed to accept it as inevitable, since he was sharing a bed with her anyway. She found that she didn't mind him being in her bed as much as she would have thought she might. She kept tamping down the magnet inside her when it would begin to fire up whenever she looked at him in his pajama bottoms.
That evening, a female agent brought better fitting outfits, running clothes and shoes for C.J., all of which was Houston's treat. The next morning C.J. was all set to go for a highly supervised run, but the weather had turned overnight. A front moved through very quickly and rather unexpectedly. It dropped the temperature from 80o in the afternoon, to 33o overnight. The dust the winds kicked up made it impossible to see further than 100 yards and were so strong it flipped a small plane upside-down at the airport.
So, C.J. and Houston spent the day reading, playing cards, watching movies, and napping. And avoiding the topic of how much Houston hated the plan. He knew he was right about this, but didn't know how to insist without it seeming like it might be his pride talking and not his experience with guys like Marty. So, he was not bothered at all that the weather had changed so drastically.
On the third, freezing cold morning, they had slept in and were planning on a late breakfast. C.J. was in the bathroom, and had just finishing pumping, when there was a knock on the door. She heard Houston answer it, a little mumbling, but then nothing else. After a minute or two she heard Houston say, "C.J. come on out here, please." So, she dried her hands, and stepped out of the bathroom, turned and walked to the bedroom area, to immediately feel a gun pressed to the back of her head the second she cleared the wall.
"Walk," Marty's voice commanded calmly, yet firmly. Then he put a hand on her shoulder and nudged her forward.
When she looked over at the bed, Houston was standing next to it, with a look of smoldering anger, his jaw set. She felt oddly calm knowing Houston was right there with her. Their eyes spoke volumes to each other; they always had.
Marty looked at Houston, "Don't bother trying to play the hero. You make one false move and I will shoot her." Houston nodded his head in understanding. Marty then told C.J., "Take a seat on the bed." She did as she was told.
Houston speculated, "Whatever you're thinking about doing to her…" He was reasoning that while Marty hadn't raped her the first time, this time he might out of spite for how things went.
Marty rolled his eyes, "Relax. I already told her she's not my type." Then he gave Houston the once over, "If you weren't so busy bein' the 'good guy', you'd be more my type." He laughed as it registered on Houston's face what he meant. He guffawed, "Don't worry, I don't have any inclination for that now." He looked back over at C.J., "Move so you're sitting in the middle of the bed, up by the headboard. Just so's I know you're not gonna make a grab for a gun or anything."
After C.J. did what she was told, Houston made sure to give her a reassuring look. He looked back at Marty and demanded, "What is it that you want?"
Marty adjusted the very ill-fitting bellhop jacket for a moment before answering, "Same thing I've wanted from the beginning. My cut." He finally ripped off the jacket without setting the gun down. He sighed in relief once he had tossed it across the room; his arms had been losing circulation because of how tight it was on his large frame. He walked over to the phone that was on the desk, and picked up the receiver, "Long distance, please." Then he covered the mouthpiece by holding the receiver to his chest, "What's the number to that accountant guy? You're gonna tell him to send the money to the account number I give you."
It was the step he was one day away from completing, when he and Daisy had arrived back at the house from a run to fully gas up the last of the three trucks that they were planning on taking to get across the border. They saw the Chevy was gone and stepped in the house to find the old man in the kitchen, sitting at the table, crying and holding his bloodied hand. He knew immediately that it was Daisy who had not locked the door, and as mad as he was, he knew it was his fault for involving such as soft-hearted girl in the operation in the first place. And when they hadn't shown up at their rendezvous spot in Medicine Hat, he knew they had both been pinched. He had to pay a semi driver $100 to smuggle him back across the border.
As Houston was telling him the number, Marty was gesturing with his gun hand to Houston to walk over to the desk. Before he handed him the receiver, he warned him, "No funny business or I will shoot you both, then I will track down your son and I'll kill him too, got it?"
They both heard C.J.'s audible intake of air at that statement, so Houston nodded and took the phone. After a long pause, he asked, "Murray? Yeah, this is Houston. Remember that account number we were waiting for? Yeah, well I have it now." Houston repeated the numbers that Marty was telling him, then said, "Okay, now go ahead and send that money to that account."
Before Houston could say more, Marty clicked the receiver. He gestured with the gun, "Now you go sit on the bed next to her." Houston followed his orders, then Marty sat on the chair at the desk. He sighed, "Now we wait."
"Wait for what?" Houston wanted to know. He was hoping if he got Marty talking, that would buy them some time. He knew that Murray would be on the phone to the FBI and that they would be making their way to their room soon. He was lamenting that the FBI wouldn't let him carry his gun across state lines, because he could really use it right now.
"Until I can confirm that my money's in my account, of course." He looked at his watch, then he looked at C.J. and shook his head, "You know, you escaping in Montana was just the culmination of us underestimating you." He let out an exasperated sigh, waved the gun a bit, and stressed, "You have been such a pain in everyone's ass from the beginning, you know that?"
Houston snapped, "Hey! Don't talk to her like that." It was reflexive, really, for him to defend her.
Marty looked offended, and snapped back, "I'm serious. I told Cody and Duval we should have killed her when we couldn't program you easily."
Houston looked puzzled, "You were there?" He didn't remember much from that time, only vague shadows of other people in the room with him and Masters.
Marty let out a sigh, "Yeah, I was there. Do you remember what you said? When we were trying to get you to accept Elizabeth as the love of your life? The woman from your dreams?" Houston shook his head, because he only ever had fleeting memories of the programming. Marty revealed in mock tones and over-exaggerated facial expressions, "Nooo, I love C.J. I looove her more than I can stand. I can barely breath… when I think… about how much… I love her." He rolled his eyes, then continued, "And when they asked why you hadn't married her if you loved her so much you said, 'I'll screw it up. I know I will. And then she'll hate me. I can't have her hating me. I can't. I looove her. I neeeed her…'" He made a face that was reminiscent of someone about to vomit, then scoffed, "Made me sick. Two weeks of that nonsense." He paused to see if Houston had anything to say. There was a blank look on Houston's face so Marty bragged, "But they broke you in the end. And it was all going so well, until she…" He pointed the gun at C.J., "screwed it up."
C.J. considered everything Marty had just said, and was sad for her best friend. But she was also pissed that Marty had mocked Houston's feelings, so she seethed, "Me? I thought you said it was Elizabeth that screwed it up. She was the one who didn't go through with the marriage. I had nothing to do with that." She wondered if either man knew how much it pained her to have to help plan Houston's wedding to that she-devil.
Marty acquiesced with a tilt of his head, and admitted, "It was mostly her, but after that, you and your…" His next words were meant to elicit a specific response from Houston, so they came out slowly and deliberately, "That… That magic pussy of yours broke the programming."
Houston snapped out of his reflections and shouted, "Hey! She's a lady, so watch your mouth!" He knew he was in no position to do anything about it, but it upset him all the same.
Marty rolled his eyes, then put on a fake British accent and intoned in an overly exaggerated manner, "I beg your parrrrdon, me-lady." Then he looked at his watch, stood up, and went to the phone, keeping the gun on Houston and C.J. It had been ten minutes, so the bank should be able to tell him if there was a payment pending.
While he was doing that, Houston looked at C.J. and was glad when he saw that she was calm. There was no trace of fear in her eyes. They had always been able to speak volumes by just looking at each other, and this time was no different. They would both be ready for any opening to get the upper hand. There was a knock on the door, and everyone froze.
Marty, who had just hung up, whispered, "Ask who it is."
Houston shouted, "Who is it?!"
"It's room service," came a male voice.
C.J. explained, "That'll be our breakfast." Which was the truth. She was, however, now hoping the eggs were coming with a side of FBI agents.
Marty hesitated, then ordered, "You go let them in, if there's any funny business…" He let his words trail off because he knew she knew the rest. He got up and stood by the window with the curtains drawn and put the gun behind his back.
The waiter entered the room, and placed the food and beverages on the table. Houston kept an eye on Marty while telling C.J., "Darlin', my wallet's on the dresser. Why don't you give him a good tip?" C.J. nodded, then, after tipping the waiter a fifty, looked at Houston who was telling her wordlessly to follow the waiter to the door and make a run for it. But her eyes were telling him that she was going to stay with him no matter what. In that moment, from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, he was flush with love for her, and he thought he could see the same thing in her eyes.
Marty gave them a puzzled look, then moved to the table. Never having had a connection like theirs with anyone, he had no idea how much they were saying to each other without speaking. He put the eggs and bacon on the toast, and with one hand wrapped it in a napkin. He looked at Houston and ordered, "Get on your feet. Get your boots on. We're leaving."
Houston suggested, "You don't need us any more, you have your money…"
Marty chuckled, "I know the FBI is probably crawling all over the place by now, so you two are going to be my ticket outta here."
He stood up and began stuffing his feet into his boots, "You don't need both of us. Just take me." He saw Marty hesitate, "You'll move faster with just one of us." Marty continued to hesitate, "And besides, if you decide you want more money, I'm the one on the accounts, not her." He hoped that Marty wasn't aware that C.J. had always been on his accounts, even when they had broken up, she was always the only other person with access to the accounts besides Murray.
While Marty was making a decision, C.J.'s eyes were full of panic, and telling Houston not to go with him alone. They could handle Marty better as a team. But there was a steely look in his eyes as Houston gave a slight shake of his head, and she knew he would hear no more. She bit her lip, and looked away.
Marty finally said, "Fine, cowboy, you're with me." Then he looked at C.J. and told her, "I would say it was nice knowin' ya', but…"
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
He made Houston step out of the room in front of him, which was the smart move because there were a dozen agents with all guns trained on them. He had considered stepping back into the room, but the door had shut behind him. "You let us go, or I will kill him," his voice calmly informed them. On Agent Howard's order, the agents stepped down, and Marty forced Houston to stay in front of him as they side-stepped their way down the hallway to the stairwell. He had considered taking the elevator, but with the glass window in it, it would have been too easy for the agents to shoot him.
They made their way quickly down the stairs, and out a side door. He forced Houston to slide across the bench front seat to the driver's side of the stolen Chevelle Malibu from the passenger's side. "Drive!" he demanded as he looked around. To his surprise none of the agents had yet emerged from the building. He demanded, "Get on I-25 and go north," while craning his neck in all directions looking for the agents to rush them.
Houston did as he was told, then inquired, "Where are we headed?" The end of morning rush hour traffic was still heavy, due to several accidents caused by the high winds that had continued to buffet the city. He was surprised that it took them over an hour to go even five miles. It was so windy that most of the tractor-trailers were holed up in truck stops across the area.
Marty was highly agitated and barked, "Don't you worry about that." So, they drove in silence until they were finally approaching I-70, and Marty, who hadn't calmed down at all, growled, "Go west on I-70." He kept checking all the cars around them, looking for the Feds. Being stuck in the gridlock did nothing to ease his paranoia. At the rate the traffic was moving the agents and the cops could have strolled up to them by now.
Houston did as he was told, and kept calculating and recalculating how he was going to get out of this. He didn't want to cause an accident that might get innocent people hurt, so he just kept driving and looking for his opening. He was wishing he had told C.J. that he loved her before leaving and was kicking himself that he hadn't. The traffic was just as heavy and slow moving on I-70, and Houston had to grip the steering wheel tightly against the gusts of wind that were being funneled through the mountain passes. The visibility was better than the previous two days, but it was still very dusty.
Two hours later Marty snapped, "Get off on Route 6 and go west." He was hoping to lose any tail the FBI had put on him, but he was surprised to see that there didn't appear to be one. And because that in and of itself was odd, he was still very edgy.
Route 6 was just as slow for the same reasons, so two more hours later, when Marty told him to make the turn onto US 40, Houston saw that this was his chance. It was going to be a sharp left turn onto a narrow overpass, and what Marty hadn't paid attention to earlier was that Houston had put on his seat belt when they got into the car, something he rarely ever did when driving. The road was a bit slick, and Houston sped up as he rounded the corner. Before Marty knew what was going on, Houston had smashed through the guardrail, careened down the embankment, slammed into the large rocks that lined Clear Creek, and the car flipped end over end, landing upside-down in the creek. Marty had been ejected through the windshield when the sedan hit the rocks, and the automobile had landed on top of him in the creek.
As the icy water rushed in, Houston released his seat belt, and got himself turned around, so that he was sitting on the ceiling of the car, and his head was brushing the seats. He tried to open the doors, but they were being blocked by the rocks in the creek. He kicked at the windshield repeatedly with the heels of his boots, but it wasn't budging and it caused the car to rock forward as he did it. He didn't want to attempt to go through the hole that Marty had made for fear that he might get stuck on his way out. He knew he had to get himself out of there fast before hypothermia set in. The water level seemed to stop rising when it was about waist to chest high, and he was grateful for that because it meant he would have plenty of air. He was starting to shake from the cold, but he knew he couldn't give up; he had to get back to C.J. and Jeddy. He turned and tried kicking out the door's window, but that was proving difficult as well. The freezing cold water was zapping his strength and he couldn't kick as hard as he normally would have. He decided to conserve his energy and pray that one of the other cars on the highway saw them go off the road and had called for help.
After what seemed like a decade, a voice called out, "Mr. Houston?!"
Even though he was shaking violently from the cold, he managed to yell out, "YEAH! I'M ALRIGHT!" He couldn't feel his fingers, toes or legs at this point and the pain from being so cold was almost unbearable.
"Give us a minute and we'll get you out," the voice called out. Then the passenger door window shattered and disappeared.
Houston didn't waste any time, he took a big gulp of air, ducked down, and swam out of the window. He was greeted by Agent Luo and another agent he hadn't met before. They tried helping him to his feet but Houston couldn't feel his feet or legs so it was proving difficult for him to stand at all. The agents team lifted him out of the water, and onto the dry rocks, but the ridge was too steep for the men to carry him up it. As they debated how to get him up, they could hear sirens blaring and a moment later a firetruck pulled up to the scene. The firemen hopped out and got into climbing rigging and scaled down. The rescue took less than 10 minutes and by the time they got him back up to the road an ambulance had arrived. They loaded Houston into the ambulance, and Agent Luo went along with him.
They had wrapped him in several layers of blankets, but a still shaking, pale, blue-purple Houston managed to ask, "Is C.J. okay?"
Agent Luo nodded, "Yes, she's fine. We took her to the Field Office, so she's safe." He smiled at the relieved look on Houston's face.
Several hours later, after Houston was thawed out by warmed IV fluids and some hot broth, he was released from the hospital, and they took him to back to the hotel. C.J. was waiting there and hugged him as he came into the room. He was still a bit weak from the ordeal, so she helped him over to the bed. She ordered them a hot meal, and fussed over him, adjusting the pillows and blankets, until he drifted off to sleep.
When he awoke a couple of hours later, he sat up and she helped prop some pillows behind him. He looked at the clock and decided to just go ahead and get in his pajamas. He adjusted the pillows behind him, so he was inclining a little. He was only vaguely paying attention to the show on the television, when C.J. came out of the bathroom in the flannel nightgown. She leaned against the wall and stared at him. She had had time to think about what Marty had told them about why the programming took so long. Houston loved her, but was afraid he'd lose her forever if he screwed up. So, their love hadn't been as lopsided as she had always thought it was. It changed everything.
As she stood there with tears in her eyes and shaking, he asked softly, "C.J.? What's wrong?"
She bit her lip then tried to explain, "I heard everything as they tracked the car. They had put a homing device on it."
It struck him, "How did they know which one to...?"
She shrugged a little, "It was the only stolen car in the lot." She took a breath, "When they reported that it was upside down in a creek…" She was trying very hard not to burst into tears, "I thought…"
Extended his arms out to her, she started to step toward him, but stopped. So, he motioned with his fingers and whispered, "Come here." And he pulled the sheet back to give her room to come and sit next to him. What she did next took him by surprise. She climbed onto the bed, sat astride him, putting her head on his shoulder and her arms around his body, then she began to sob uncontrollably. It took him a moment, but then with his left hand he held her head to his shoulder and with his right he encircled her waist. He assured her, "I'm so sorry it scared you like that, but I'm okay." He felt her nod, and he was happy to have his best friend back.
She sat up and finally confided honestly, "I've missed trusting you. I've missed it a lot. My trust in you was something I could always count on… Until..." She couldn't say more because a sob got caught in her throat.
He inhaled deeply, trying to keep himself from tearing up. He stroked her hair, and acknowledged, "I'm so sorry I broke your trust in me… In us. The only thing I can do now is to ask for the time to build your trust in me again."
She nodded then put her head back on his shoulder and cried some more. After a good long while, she calmed down enough to ask him, "Did your dad ever say that I was a rotten kid? When we were young, I mean."
He was puzzled by this topic change, but then squeezed her, and told her, "No, darlin'. Daddy always liked you. He thought you were a good influence on me." He pulled her head up and cradled it between his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. He knew why she had asked him and explained, "I don't know why your mom did what she did, but I know it wasn't because of anything you did or didn't do..."
She was despondent, "It had to be something. Why else would she abandon me like that? With no one. I could never do that to Jeddy. Never." And the tears flowed down her cheeks again.
He shook his head, and offered sympathetically, "I really don't know. You were just a little girl." He paused, looking into her sad, hazel eyes and asked, "If she were here right now what would you say to her?"
Sniffling, she considered it, then got out in the open what she had been keeping locked inside her for months, "I was your baby; didn't you care what would happen to me? Didn't you care that I would be the one to find you like that? What that would do to me? Didn't you care that I would be left alone to be raised by complete strangers? I loved you. You were my whole world after Daddy died…" She struggled to put more thoughts together, then asked "Didn't you care about me, at all?" She broke down sobbing again, and put her head back on his shoulder.
He held her tightly again, and rocked her a little. He knew that nothing he said would make her feel better. And he knew better than to tell her that the good that came of it was that he got a best friend and soulmate from what her mother had done. Those kinds of thoughts never come off right to the person who's in as much pain as she clearly was.
It took a long time for her to go from sobbing to merely crying. When she had she blurted out, "I miss Jeddy." She knew she was stating the obvious, but she needed to say it again.
He stroked her hair and whispered, "I know. I do too." He reflexively turned his head and kissed her head, then turned back and rested his head on hers. He tried to buoy her spirits, "You know, now that Marty is gone, they'll check for any other people who may have been working for him, then they'll bring him to us."
She sat up and confessed tearily, "I'm worried… he won't… want me anymore." She wasn't ready to wean him yet. It was a bonding experience like no other she had ever had.
He shook his head sympathetically, "Ohhhh, honey, I don't think that will happen." Then he faltered before softly confessing, "He didn't know me. At the police station…" It broke his heart when Jeddy only cried more upon seeing Houston there.
C.J. felt a horrible pang of guilt, "I'm sorry. I should never have sent you away like that." She bit her lip before continuing, "That was wrong of me to deny him having a relationship with you. No matter how angry I was. Can you forgive me?"
He grinned a little and assured her, "Of course I can. Can you forgive me for letting my pride cause all of those horrible things to happen?" She nodded, then put her head on his shoulder again, and he held her securely in his arms once again.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%
An hour or so later, her crying finally stopped, but he didn't want to let go, and she didn't seem to be in any hurry to move. Without warning his little cowboy decided now was the time to make a move. Somewhere in the back of his brain it had registered that she wasn't wearing any panties, and his little cowboy took that as a 'go' signal. Houston was trying to think of baseball and hoping she wouldn't notice.
She froze when she felt him stiffen under her, she asked wryly, "Really?"
"Just…" He let out an exasperated sigh, "Just ignore him. He'll calm down in a minute." He didn't want to ruin this by adding sex into the equation when she wasn't ready for it. He always wanted to be one with her, but now was not the time.
She could feel that quite the opposite was happening, shook her head a little and wondered aloud, "So Granny Flannel does it for him?"
Houston blushed a little, "Wellll, I think he knows what's under the flannel and what's not under the flannel." He moved his hand from her hip to her thigh to make his point. "And he's remembering how you get that no tan lines glow."
She sat up to look him in the eyes, "You saw?" Houston leaned over and grabbed the box of tissues, and she wiped her eyes and nose and his shoulder.
He grinned a little, "Well, I figured it out when I saw you putting up that screen every day." Then he added quickly, "But I didn't actually see anything." She looked deeply into his eyes for a minute, then she kissed him. He was a little taken aback by this, but returned the kiss, thinking it was going to be a friendly kiss. And he thought that until a moment later when he felt her tongue touch his lips. He slowly parted his lips and let her deepen the kiss. He had only hoped that they could get back to being friends; becoming lovers again wasn't what he had planned at all.
She knew he was waiting for her to take the lead, so she did. The magnet inside of her was not going to be denied this time. She needed to take them back all the way to where they were before her move to Hawaii. A reset as it were. So, she slipped the nightgown off over her head and kissed him again. She delighted as she felt his hands caressing her body, then she had to ask, "Where are the condoms?" She was not ready to give Jeddy a sibling yet.
Breathlessly he told her, "In my suitcase." Then quickly took off his pajama bottoms as he watched her rummaging through the bag to finally pull out the box. She walked back over and handed him one. She positioned herself over him and she let out a moan of pleasure as she lowered herself onto him. It was a moan that went straight to his core and caused him to let out a moan that went straight to hers. He explored her with his hands and his mouth and was actually glad that the condom was dulling the sensations because he was sure after nine months of celibacy, it would have been over too soon to get her to her climax. It didn't take long for her to reach the peak, and the intensity of their passion left them both shaking a little when they came.
The rest of the night saw them making use of most of the box, until they fell asleep, snuggled in each other's embrace, connected body and soul once more.