Chpt. 5 CPOV:
Flashback (possible trigger warning)
"NO!" Mommy screams waking me up. I grab my blankie and crawl under the bed as far as I can. It's dark under here, so dark that I can't see anything. But I don't care; I'm not afraid of the dark. Not anymore. "Leave him alone, I'll do whatever you want."
"I knew you would see things my way. Now stop fighting me and fucking take this."
He's here! The mean man that Mommy said wouldn't be back is here! She promised he would stay away; she promised he wouldn't hurt me again.
"No, please. I'll do it, I'll do whatever you want just don't give me that again."
"Oh I know you'll do it, because you don't want me go after that little piece of shit you have hiding in the bedroom. But you'll take this so you we can enjoy you even more. You'll be more into it once you have this. You know I'm right."
"Please…just…."
"Take it or I'll go in there and wake little shit's ass up."
I wish I knew a better hiding spot; I know he'll find me here. He always finds me. I pull my blankie over my head and close my eyes. Maybe he won't come in here; maybe he won't find me.
"Just don't hurt him," mommy says.
"Good girl, that's it just relax. In a few minutes you won't even remember little shit's real name and by the time my buddies get here the only thing you'll be thinking about is which one of is going to go where."
I put my hands over my ears; I hate when his friends come over. I hate when he's here. I wish Mommy would just get away from him. I wish we could run away somewhere so we wouldn't have to see him again. I wish I was big enough to run away by myself.
My door squeaks; he's in my room! He's going to hurt me again! I still hurts when I breathe from when he kicked me the other day. My tummy still hurts real bad too. He can't find me! I can't let him find me!
"Oh little shit…where are you?"
Ding dong
End flashback (end possible trigger warning)
Yet another night when I wake up covered in sweat, breathing heavily from a nightmare. That nightmare in particular always gets me; it was the last time I ever heard his voice. It was also the last time I ever heard my mother's voice. I shake my head trying to lose the image of what I woke up to the next morning when I finally ventured out of my room. I was so scared that he was still going to be there; he would hurt me real bad if I came out of my room when he was still there. I knew better than to come out as soon as I woke up; I always had to wait in my room for quite some time before my stomach would growl so loud that I couldn't ignore it any longer. That morning though what I found in the living room wasn't the bastard who beat me; instead it was my mother's body sprawled out on the coffee table. The image of her lying there, naked and not moving is forever burned into my memory.
I force myself out of bed, knowing that the only way I'm going to get away from this nightmare is to leave my room. The longer I sit here, the more I focus on that night and the next morning. I take a piss and then splash cold water on my face trying to force myself back to reality. No matter how many therapists I saw over the years or how many different medications I tried, the nightmares never stopped. I am forever grateful that Grace was the pediatrician on call in the ER the day I was brought in; the day when someone eventually someone found me in the apartment.
Opening the door to my room, I'm greeted with silence. Instead of heading into the great room to my piano, I walk into the kitchen and look over at the balcony doors. As I expected, they're open which means Ana is sitting out there in the dark just as she has been every night since she arrived. Tonight's her fourth night here and the fourth night that I've woken up from a nightmare to already find her outside. Neither of us talk about why we're awake in the middle of the night or why she's sitting outside in the complete darkness. I pour two glasses of bourbon as I have the last three nights and carry them out to the balcony where Ana is standing against the railing looking out over the city.
I don't know what it is about coming out here, but the last few nights it's actually soothed me. Twice I was even able to go back to my bedroom and go back to sleep which is something that rarely happens after a nightmare. Usually once I wake up from one I'm up for the day, no matter what the time of night. I can't explain why I don't go to the piano and instead head outside into the cool night where a young woman I know nothing about waits. When it comes to Ana I can't explain anything; why I let her, a complete stranger, stay in my apartment; why I feel this incredible need to protect her and her sister's little boy; why I'm allocating resources to looking into the bastard that hurt Ana under the disguise that I want to make sure he isn't a risk to my business. None of it makes sense.
When I reach the balcony doors I stop to watch her; she's clearly preoccupied with something as she doesn't hear me approach the doors or move throughout the apartment. Any other time she seems almost on guard, aware of every noise in the apartment. I've seen it more the last couple of days since she's been covering for Gail, something I'm still not thrilled about. I've watched her attention turn to a small sound in the apartment that I know is Taylor in his office when she's cooking dinner. But out here, at night, I think she lets that guard down because for the last few nights she doesn't seem to notice me until I make myself known.
The guard goes back up as soon as she hears me, but I think she's slowly becoming more comfortable with me. She still watches my every move when we're out here together, but last night I caught a glimpse of a smile when she told me a little about her sister before she got involved with the bastard who ultimately killed her. She doesn't smile very often at all, at least when I see her. Perhaps she does it more when she's alone with the baby; I don't know why it matters to me but I hope she does.
Tonight, like the other nights, she's wearing an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants; ones that outline her small ass perfectly. Not for the first time I wonder what it would be like to have her ass pressed against me as I wrapped my arms around her waist and bent her over the balcony railing. Being on the top floor in the penthouse has its advantages of; there are no neighbors to worry about seeing what you're doing on the balcony. Escala stands taller than most buildings in Seattle, but there are a few office buildings that are nearby but none that are close enough that could see in detail what we would be doing if anyone was even there. At this hour of the night, all the buildings are dark; the only lights that can be seen are from below us where a few lonely cars. Nobody we would need to worry about; I could easily have her leaning over the railing without anyone suspecting anything. Under the cover of darkness I could slip down those tight yoga pants just enough that I could slip my fingers through her folds. She would push back against me, eager to have more but instead I just tease her until she's whimpering my name out of pure need. When neither of us can take it any longer, I would push my pajama pants down just enough to free my throbbing erection and rub it against her coating myself in her juices. In one swift move, I'm deep inside of her with her ass pressed firmly against me as we both breath heavily as neither of us move. I lean over her, pressing my chest to her back and whisper in her ear how much I want her right now, how hard it is for me to not to come right now just from feeling her squeeze me. I slip my hand under her shirt, she hisses my name when I pinch her hardened nipples.
FUCK…what the fuck am I doing thinking of her like that? I take a few deep breaths, willing my erection to disappear before Ana suddenly turns around. Right now, I'm thankful that she isn't as on guard as she normally is, or she would get an eyeful by turning around; there's no way she wouldn't be able to see the tent in my pants. It takes me going through my calendar in my head to finally get to the point where I can comfortable walk through the doors and don't need to worry about scaring Ana. I clear my throat alerting Ana to my presence; the first two times I found Ana out here I frightened her because she hadn't heard me approaching. I don't know if it startles her any less, but I try to make a little noise before stepping out onto the balcony.
"It's chillier out than I expected," I place her glass on the table between the two chairs. The first time I offered her a glass she didn't take it from me; I guess she didn't want to get close to me. Since then I've placed the glass on the table and let her take it when she was ready. I hate that she's so cautious around people, that her guard immediately goes up when I step outside each night.
"It is," she takes a deep breath before turning around.
FUCK…her nipples are fucking poking right through the thin top she's wearing. FUCK if that doesn't bring me right back to the thought of my hands on them as I thrust deep into her over the balcony railing. I quickly sit in the chair on the other side of the table; as she usually does she waits until I sit before taking the other seat. I watch as she winces when she sits down, her hand immediately going to her ribs and I feel like such an ass. Who the fuck thinks about having sex with a woman who has two black eyes, busted up ribs and a wrist in an ace bandage? Plus who knows what other injuries that the bastard had his men give her. I swear if I ever find them, I'll kill them myself.
Where the fuck did that come from?
I hate violence; I despise guns at all costs but right now I'd kill the men who hurt her. That realization both surprises me and worries me. What is it about Ana that has me reacting this way? Unfortunately I've met women who are survivors of domestic violence before; my parents how many charity events to raise money to support services that help these women. I've listed to their stories and admired how strong they were and of course I was angry at the men who hurt them as no man should ever put his hands on a woman. But I never felt protective of them-
"It's so quiet here at night," her soft voice cuts my thoughts off almost instantly. "You can't hear anything."
"I guess you can't," how have I never noticed that before? Oh right, because until the other night I'm not sure I've ever stepped foot out here. I listen for a few minutes and realize she's right. You can barely hear the cars below us. "Before…did you live in a city?"
"Not really," she answers. "When we were little, we lived on military bases, moving every few years to a different state or country. Obviously they weren't in a city, but in a way the base itself sometimes felt like a city because there were so many people in such a small area. Nothing compared to Seattle though."
"Your father retired, right?" I try to remember the small amount of information that Taylor gave me about her father.
"He did, and then bought a log cabin on twenty acres in the middle of nowhere," she answers. "He said after living on top of everyone for so long, he wanted his own space."
"Did you like it?"
"It was…different. Very different from what we grow up on, but the peacefulness of it was nice. I hated that everything was so far away though; you couldn't just walk to the corner store to grab something. You had to drive a good fifteen minutes to get to a store. But he was happy so we didn't complain. I stayed there until I went to college and then got an apartment on my own when I got a job."
"What do you…did you do?"
"I worked in a marketing firm; I started off in advertising but quickly moved into a position as a marketing specialist for the agency. I would review a company's current marketing plan and recommend changes based on their goals and what was currently working and not working for them."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"I did," I can barely make out a glimpse of a smile on her lips in the moonlight. "I like a challenge and enjoy knowing that I was part of helping a company grow."
"Maybe when this is all over you can go back…"
"I don't think so," she sighs. "Even if this somehow all ends, I don't think I could go back there."
"Why not?"
"They all…they all know what happened. I hate the idea of them looking at me differently because of what happened. I only went back to work for a few days after…the accident. We didn't know right away that it was anything but an accident so we had no reason to worry."
"What happened?"
"My dad got the police report from the accident for the insurance company and got suspicious. Her…Kate's car had been serviced a week before the accident so it didn't make sense that her brakes would give out. My dad spoke with the mechanic who worked on her car and he confirmed that he installed new brakes and tires before the accident. He had a buddy at the impound lot look at the vehicle and he had someone he knows look at the brake lines. Both confirmed the lines were cut…they said it was fixed so that if she hit the brakes more than a couple of times that it would sever the line completely."
"Fuck Ana," I whisper having no fucking idea what else to say.
"My dad called me at work and told me to get home," she shrugs. "I walked out, left my car in the parking lot and took a bus to just outside of my dad's town where he picked me up. He put me and Teddy into hiding; I sent an email to my boss before we left letting her know I needed to resign effective immediately."
"I'm sure they would understand if you wanted to go back."
"They might," she admits. "But…I don't think I want to."
"No?"
"I don't know…I think about just starting over; not that it's that's easy," she says. "Where people wouldn't look at me and immediately think about what they saw on the news. It doesn't matter though."
"Why not?"
"As long as he's out there and his daddy is protecting him, I can't start over. He'd find me, no matter where I went. It's only a matter of time before he finds me…even here-"
"He's not going to find you; he's not going to get to you while you're here."
She doesn't say anything, not that I expect her to. She rarely does when I try to reassure her that she's safe here. I wish I knew what to say to ease her mind but I have no fucking idea what to say.
"Ana…if you ever wanted to talk to someone…about what happened, I could arrange for someone to come here to talk to you," I offer knowing that Flynn would be here the moment I requested. "Fully vetted of course; someone I trust completely."
"Thank you for the offer," she says sincerely. "Maybe…maybe when this is all over. Right now I just need to focus on…"
"I understand."
"How come you don't sleep?" she asks after a few moments of silence between us.
"I-"
"Oh! I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry. I…forget I said anything," she interrupts before I can even consider how to answer her question. It's been so long since anyone asked me about my nightmares that she caught me completely off guard with her question.
"No, it's fine," I reassure her.
"I shouldn't have asked; it's none of my business," she continues as if I hadn't said anything. "It's obvious why I don't sleep, but-"
"Ana," I interrupt her. "It's fine that you asked. You being out here…with me….you can ask. Hell, I'm surprised you didn't ask before now."
"You don't have to-"
"I was adopted," I blurt out. "Grace was the pediatrician on call in the emergency room the night I was brought in…her and Carrick adopted me. My…life…I didn't have the greatest of starts to life. I have nightmares about before…before I was adopted."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"It's fine."
I want to ask her why she's out here; she says it's obvious why she doesn't sleep but it's not. Is she in pain? Is it a nightmare from when the men hurt her? Does she worry about the bastards hurting her again or getting the baby? Is she worried about her dad?
"I should head back to bed," she says quietly.
"I'll see you in a couple of hours for breakfast," I nod before standing.
Like the last couple of nights, after sitting outside with Ana I easily fall back to sleep and manage to sleep until my alarm goes off a couple of hours later. After a run and breakfast, I'm back at GEH for a day full of calls and meetings. Despite the busy schedule, I find myself wondering what Ana is doing at Escala. She's different at night on the balcony than over breakfast or when she brings me dinner. I hate having her do those things, but she was adamant that we couldn't bring someone in from the agency so I really had no choice. On the balcony, she's…just different. She talks more whereas during the day she really only says anything if someone is talking to her. I don't know if she's more comfortable at night because it's dark out or if there's another reason. But what other reason could it be? I wonder if she talks much to Taylor?
"Sir?" Taylor interrupts me.
"Yes?"
"With your permission, I would like Welch and Barney to meet with Ana-"
"Why? Did they find something? Is something wrong?"
"Everything is fine," he assures me but the look in his eye questions my reaction. I don't answer the unasked question. "I would like them to review what they found on the guy with her and to see if she can add anything that might be helpful."
"He's still in Atlanta?"
"Actually he's in New York traveling with the team, but we have confirmed his location as of this morning through several online pictures. Although having eyes on him doesn't necessarily tell us anything since he doesn't do anything himself from what we can tell. Welch and Barney are focusing on his known associates and their whereabouts. That's where we're hoping Ana can come in; perhaps someone will look familiar or she'll be able to tell us something to try to narrow down who it was who took her."
"Have you heard from her father? How do you know they haven't gotten to him yet?"
"He's gone into hiding," he explains. "He texted me from a blocked number earlier today letting me know that he was moving from his last location to a different one. He never says where he is and I have no way to reach back out to him but he's safe at least as of this morning."
"Set up the meeting," I nod. "Get Andrea to clear my schedule for whenever you get the meeting scheduled."
"Sir?"
"I want to hear what Welch and Barney found out about this bastard," I know it doesn't make sense to him but I need to know what we're dealing with. Hell it doesn't make sense to me. I should just let Ana and the baby stay with Taylor and not have any contact with her. I should avoid the balcony at night and stick to playing the piano. But I can't; I can't do any of those things and fuck if I understand why not.