- Chapter Fifty-Three -

Fun In The Sun

Stage dark with only a spotlight shining over the lead actor in the pantomime, there was silence, nothing more. Players shuffled in the background, some pausing long enough to offer a cursory glance at the unfolding tragedy. Whatever else they may have thought as they went about their business, the act moved too slow, if it moved at all. Had the pair been standing there at the curb for five minutes or five hours? Or had it been even longer?

Ego a particular part of theater, this matter was deeply personal. Brought to this moment by actions taken long ago, there were only the stars of the production, the blonde child and the aged man that held fast to her arm. Swaying ever so slightly in the hot breeze, she stared sightless across the steaming asphalt of the parking lot. Physical stance firm, he had eyes only for his young ward.

Lovers once - not so long ago in fact - now neither knew where they stood.

From the look on her face, Daniella very well might have lost the map and literally did not know where she was. Sam, on the other hand, had a grasp on every outside variable, as many as one person possibly could; he did not, however, know how to proceed.

His job was to protect the girl, but how could he do that when history told him she would bolt? How could he be any kind of professional when he still wanted to pin her to the nearest surface and do all kinds of bad things to her? How could he continue to fantasize about exploring every last inch of her uncharted territory when he was reviled, his every breath in her presence a painful reminder?

On and on the cycle looped in on itself, a never ending ouroboros.

"Are you alright?" It was probably the worst possible thing he could have asked in that moment.

Finding out that you've been cozying up to the guy that had been partially responsible for your father's death could only leave you feeling so many ways, and 'alright' certainly wasn't going to be one of them. But Sam wasn't going to apologize for what he had done - Rafe had deserved what he had gotten.

Casualty of a decades-old earth-shattering event and victim to new information, the burned ghost was only capable of standing there. Dumbfounded, shaken to the very core, and downright cast out to sea without supplies, what else was there to do in her position? It hurt too much to look at the one person that up until those words had been her anchor, and forget even trying to form words.

Trained since a tender age to run and hide, her body was used to flying, to escaping from whatever problem had faced her. When he'd been alive, it had been her father she would run to for safety and comfort. Even when he had made it clear he was too busy. Usually he would always make it better, but...

He couldn't anymore, and now she knew the reason why.

Besides, what good would fleeing do now? The dominoes had already fallen, the fat lady done with her song. Still, it was a foreign feeling to fight with years of conditioning. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to move, but she wouldn't run (admittedly there was a good reason why she couldn't, but for once it boiled down to wouldn't). Not this time. So her body came up with a compromise - going slowly, the heiress plugged ahead, tugging slightly at the weight on her arm.

Brain blocking it out to prevent a nervous breakdown to end all nervous breakdowns, she couldn't think of it as Sam. It was just... a thing. A greedy thing that stubbornly didn't want to let go, a thing that was sentient enough to think that she was up to her old habits again.

Acknowledging someplace in the back of her head that there were errands to be run, she paused to show the thing that she was cooperating as much as she could. Willfully blind, she couldn't see or hear the thing, but she knew it was there, because she still felt a physical presence at her side. An empty silhouette... A part of herself that she missed...

Daddy? Or, was it... somebody else?

Numbness creeping in to marry with melancholy, her hands felt cold. Despite the blistering sunshine that was already cracking the polish of her shoes, pockets or gloves might have been nice. But no, it was impossible to go back.

He had done so much for her, so now it was her turn to be brave. Taking a small half-step to show this invisible force what she was doing, she waited for it to follow her example. If the thing wanted to follow she would allow it time to do so, and if it wanted to let go, she would be more than alright with that too.

Alright....

Something about the word broke through the fog, as if she were listening to a recording behind a door.

[Worse Than a Tropical Summer Storm]

Arriving on the island in one piece, Bai was just grateful to be back on solid ground once more.

In addition to being unforgivably shabby on the outside, Victor Sullivan's seaplane left her with the constant apprehension that they could sink at any moment. At least in the water she felt like she might have stood some chance of survival, but in the air? It was better on her system to focus on the blinking lights of the control panel.

Although that entailed sitting up in the front in the cockpit, which in turn risked Victor blathering on and on. He'd eventually shut up when he realized she wouldn't be bothered to pay him the slightest bit of attention, although that silence would only last for so long. Perhaps it was a sign of senility setting in. The bespectacled beauty couldn't say for sure, and frankly, she didn't care, so long as he could get her where she needed to be.

When focusing didn't do the trick, the woman found her mind going back to Daniella. Samuel should have been keeping her daughter safe, however 'safe' didn't always mean warm, or even sheltered. The product of her upbringing, that girl had been raised in too much luxury for this experience to not be a devastating shock upon her fragile little system.

Rafe could have handled it.

"The hotel is just up the pier, behind the market."

Breaking the widow in black from her demons, Sullivan pointed out the dockside bazaar that stretched as far as the eye could see from one end of the coast to the sheer drop into the water at the other end. Just behind the sprawling network of tin stalls and canvas canopies, nearest to the crooked path to the dock, the skyline was cut with palm trees and buildings that went as high as four or five stories. The businesswoman deemed it a wise call to put the hotel next to one of the major ports into and out of the island.

Relationship such that any more was just a courtesy, the elderly gentleman was eager to be on his way, "You can go on ahead. I have some business to attend to."

If Bai had bothered to listen to anything the old man had said, she might have known what that business was.

Seeing as she hadn't, it would have been a waste of breath to say anything else. So the woman took her leave, going on her way to get as nice a room as she possibly could on this rock. Dreaming of a hot shower and a bed softer than the guerrilla cots on the seaplane, Bai didn't much mind the scorching heat of the sun overhead. In fact, it reminded her of a time in Cabo San Lucas.

[Shopping with a Cadaver Would Be More Fun]

Adrift in a sea of scarves and surrounded by glitzy bronze sharks with cubic zirconium teeth and cheap cooper eyes, the thief and the heiress had made their way to the outdoor swap meet. Vendors shouted out about unbeatable sales for poor imitations of real treasures that he had actually had his hot little hands on. Pedestrians ambled along at their own pace, gawking at multicolored rugs that may as well have had sewn on tags declaring that they were made in China. Pickpockets and con artists alike ran their games, all but the greenest of them wiser than to mark a Drake.

Cassie quite enjoyed coming out this way, confessing once that it was to drink in the human melting pot of cultures. Smart kid, his niece, and one that was getting to that age were it was hard to shop for. Did he get her some little trinket that she would find cute for the better part of the year, or did he foster the familial love of history and exploration? The girl had her own interests as well, but again, she was at the age where it was more subtle than 'I like x-thing'.

That had been one of the draws of having a young woman closer to his niece's age on the case. She was recently there herself, so surely she would have some insight as to how Cassie's mind was working. Girls weren't all the same, but at least Daniella could appreciate the growing pain of Troll doll or Galaga, lipstick or a beginners guide to free climbing.

At least, that had been the plan...

Practically a zombie, it was a wonder that the heiress had found her way anywhere. Sam knew he had no room to criticize her for shutting down the way she had when he was largely responsible, but he had anticipated a much different reaction. Volcanic anger that resulted in a backhand that could be heard the world over, a square kick, yet another vanishing act... Anything but nothing.

"Oh, what a pretty scarf!" Pedaling paisley and plain prints, the nearest shop owner called out to Daniella while straightening a spotted kerchief, "But I think we can find you something even better, no?"

Freezing in her tracks, the newly minted blonde tilted her head at the stand. On the surface it might have looked like she was ogling the polychromatic display, but the truth was that she was wearing Chloe's scarf for a reason. Fingers rubbing over the fabric to itch at the dark splotches carelessly peppering her skin, she rotated just enough to make her protector think that she was going to look at him.

He wasn't quite sure if he wanted her to or not. On one hand, it was so much more pleasant to just be able to go on with their day without having to acknowledge anything that had happened.

A false alarm, Daniella instead peered into the mirror that had been set up for customers to model the product. Shaking her head at her reflection, the woman carried on with her search for that perfect present for the bespectacled blonde stranger. In her head, she hadn't spoken to the birthday girl to form a close enough bond to feel much of an obligation to get her a gift, but she did feel like she owed Elena. Even Nathan, although in truth they hadn't interacted all that much either.

But they had opened up their home to her, and they had been far kinder than strangers in their position had any obligation to be. And not just to her, but to Rafael as well.

Gliding away from the scarf shop with a strange feeling like she was forgetting something, Dells wondered what he would get for Cassie. Or if he would bother. Technically they had both been extended invitations to the party, but there was nothing making them go; besides, even if they did show up, there was no law that said they had to bring a gift. It was just good manners, she supposed.

A shadow walking across a grave, the grizzled babysitter thought that he felt a dark cloud at his back. Turning to verify this hunch, he sees nothing of note. A gull flying off with the spoils of a fresh catch, the squalling of a child that had been denied.

For half a heartbeat he might have thought he saw a familiar face leering through the crowd, but a second glance revealed it to be a matter of mistaken identity.

However it did look like it might rain, a sudden roll of summer clouds gathering in the sticky ultramarine sky.

[Fast-Forwarding Into The Future]

Well, he was right about the weather.

Magically productive in that they had found something for the birthday girl, the unmovable force that was Sam had paid for the goods laid out on the counter. I'll get reimbursed for this later, he told himself as he committed the final tally to memory. Detached as the secret shopper was, she had done a reasonable job selecting what she had, although it remained to be seen if Cassie would share the sentiment.

Fortunately they were already on their way back to the hotel when the lightening slashed through the heavens. Thunder coming down over the ocean with a resounding clap, the heiress had glanced across the horizon with a small frown when boom come. Crease deepening with each subsequent rumble, as she stood rooted in place, she clutched the bag tightly to her chest to keep the contents from getting wet. Rain was only just starting to sprinkle down, but it was a good call.

Pelted back and front as the winds shifted with schizophrenic fervor, the duo was soaked by the time they made it to their room. And of course the power had gone out, leaving the staff and guests alike to fumble around with only a vague sense of direction to lead them around. Normally there would be a back-up generator waiting in reserve of such occurrences, however something must have happened to it, because the only light came from the semi-visible sun outside.

While there was a column assembled at the front desk to complain about nature and its design, Sam didn't feel the need to bother. He could find his way back up to their room, even with the little wayward duckling at his side.

Hesitating by the door - clearly plagued by indecision - Dells continued to clutch the goods to her person with an iron grip. God's migraine either the best or worst timed thing in the world, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the hand on her shoulder.

After everything that she had been through recently, the heiress couldn't help but to look at who it was that had grabbed her from the darkness. Mind going straight to Angel and Ashley, there was a brief wave of relief when she recognized a familiar shape in the shadows. And then there wasn't even that, the floor ripping itself apart to swallow her whole.

"Come on," one hand on her shoulder to steer the doe in the right direction, the grizzled wolf placed his other on the small of her back to push her along. Mouth pressed to the shell of her ear, he leaned into the excuse that it was too dark to keep his hands to himself. "The stairs are right over there."

Gulping, it was the first time that the thing had spoken to her directly, the voice sounding like safety in the storm. Lulled into the lie a little too easily, she nodded against the jaw that had just spoken, magnetized to the small bits of familiarity in a situation that all but demanded as much.

Progress slower than it normally would have been, the pair moved faster than most anyone else in the lobby. Shambling forward, every few steps they would stop to feel their surroundings, the girl muttering a low apology every time she thought she bumped into someone. Guided true, every single time they paused, the duo found themselves closer and closer until the lines of proximity were blurred into obscurity altogether. The thing seemed to know where it was going, and after the rain, it was nice to feel even a little warmth.

But didn't it feel a little too nice?

Thinking along those same unspoken lines, Sam savored the feeling of her figure melding against his own, her frame shuddering ever so slightly as he lingered next to her cheek. Fiddling with the keys, he knew that not all of it had to do with the cold seeping into their bones.

Body electric and traitorous, Dells felt herself falling back into the thing just before he could get the door open. It! Before it could get the door open!

Rosy-cheeked, the heiress stepped away from the thing the instant the door was open. Angry and disgusted, she berated herself from the door to setting down the bag on her side of the bed. Shooting a furtive glance at the tangled sheets, she wasn't sure there were enough pillows in the world to surround herself with.

Island irises darkening as he watched her gaze dart to and from the bed, the pickpocket knew he shouldn't have been dwelling on things like that when he should have been thinking what he would say to Nate. Text messages a blessing in that you could speak in the shortest hand possible, it was worth asking if they were still be going to the gym later.

Provided the weather didn't get progressively worse, there was no reason why they wouldn't go, although considering how things were playing out in his camp, he wasn't sure about what he would do with the girl. Originally she sounded like she was going to show up the boys, but now he wasn't sure she would even be up for going.

He could always just leave her with Elena, but... between how much his little sister had already contributed to his gig and the fear of what Chloe would say to the young woman, he didn't particularly like that option.

Lack of power not the same as a lack of hot water, it would have made all the sense in the world for Dells' next move to be a shower. Wet from only a small bit of rain, the heat and pounding water might do her some good, so he opened the bathroom door, resting with his back to the wall. Pulling out a cigarette to tell her without any words in the slightest that he would still be guarding over her body, he was looking forward to having a good think.

Except she moved to sit at the window, a bottle on hand. It was too dark to discern what she was holding, but whatever it was she was drinking it slowly.

Silhouette nursing the presumably amber liquor, before long the shivering got worse, but her only recourse was to grip the bottle tighter and wash the cold feeling away.

Half-tempted to throw a blanket at her since she apparently had no interest in changing out of her wet clothes, he recognized the look of a person that wanted to be left alone. A wounded heart that needed time and space. Once again he saw his little brother in the young woman, but this time he could also see himself.

Author's Note:

Just wanted to warn anyone reading this that I posted a chapter two days in a row, so if you're just jumping ahead you might be missing something. Alright, carry on and have an excellent week :)