Chapter 17 - A Version of the Truth

You are like nobody since I love you. Pablo Neruda


"Tom! What are you doing here?"

"Were you expecting someone else?"

"What? No…." The question was charged with a veiled accusation. And she didn't like it one bit. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"We need to talk."

"Could you not wait until tomorrow?" she asks impatiently. "I had a long day, I'm tired."

Why? He wondered. Having fun, were you? He doesn't like the images that his mind provides. He could feel the control over his temper slipping through his fingers.

Due to his military training, he always seems to be in control, but today something was wrong, she could feel it. Though she couldn't read anything in his expression, she could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

As she watches him, he does the same. Her hair, which had been so cruelly cropped, had grown to the point where she could braid it again. The yellow blouse reminded him of the coat she used to wear on the ship. Her brown eyes looked at him, impatient, her arms crossed; a self-protective behavior that reveals that she is on the defensive. Probably, she realizes that something is wrong, but just doesn't know what it is yet.

"What I have to say can't wait." He said walking into her personal space. She found herself taking as few steps back, allowing him to enter the house.

This man is exasperating!

She sighed and closed the door. When she turned, she almost tripped over him. She took two steps back and passed him and then stopped in the middle of the room just a few feet from him. "So?"

He promptly demands in an authoritarian voice that brooks no admit arguments. "You do not leave the base without Gareth and Miller. Is that clear, Rachel?"

She could feel her own temper rising to meet his. Maybe he was worried about her safety. But he had no right to treat her like a reckless child. "You can't give me orders, Admiral."

"Yes, I can." He hissed. "If that's the only way to keep you safe."

"I was not alone; Tex was with me. Happy?"

No, I'm not happy. Try upset and frustrated beyond measure.

"What were you doing alone with him?" He growled.

He has no right to charge her with anything, not when he was drooling over the journalist like a lovesick puppy.

"You have no right to ask me that question; that's none of your damn business and I'll thank you for staying out of my personal affairs. I can go out with Tex, kiss him..."

She watched in fascination as his blue eyes acquire a darker hue, like a sea agitated in stormy night.

"You kissed Tex?" Tom's voice sounded deceptively calm, but his eyes tell a different story, they were burning up in their sockets.

The rational part of her brain told her not to provoke him, but his demands made her mad as hell.

"Yes!" There was a challenge in the word. "Do you have a problem with that? You're sure as hell are not my keeper!"

There was something almost savage in his expression and she bit down on her bottom lip wondering if she hadn't gone too far.

He advanced towards her, slowly, leisurely. For every step she took backward, he took one forward. She backed away until she bumped into the wall. He put his hands against the wall on either side of her head, effectively pinning her without using any actual force. She watched as the muscles in his jaw tensed as he moved a little closer, his eyes locked on her. Anticipation filled the atmosphere around them. She put her hands on his chest to push him away. Seconds later, she realized her mistake and hastily withdrew her hands. He watches as she stands there, still inside the circle of his arms, he does not try to touch her, but all his emotions are intensifying in an almost painful way, every muscle trembling with the effort of restraint.

She stood staring at him, her heart beating faster than it should. His anger had evaporated and in its place was another emotion, infinitely more dangerous. Involuntarily she licked her lips, making him take in a sharp breath. She could hit him or she can just kiss him. She blushed at the thought and shook her head in denial.

"You are mine, Rachel," he murmured hoarsely, his lips lightly brushing hers.

Her mind automatically rebelled against his claim. I don't belong to anyone.

Oh, but you do.

Her hands reached for the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He moaned at the contact.

"Rachel" he rasped, his mouth meeting hers.

There was no gentleness in the kiss. The weeks they were apart had made him demanding, hungry, not that she minded, she had missed him as well.

There's a line they never crossed, she wants to cross it now and she knows Tom wants her to, but something has always held her back. Not today! This thing that's between them has been building for too long.

They parted, breathing harshly. She smiled at him, her hands playing with the buttons on his uniform.

"Why don't we continue this in bed? You want it, don't you?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

Her smile widened and she unbuttoned the first few buttons on his uniform..

Fuck, she's undressing him, his lust-drunk brain supplies.

He's looking at her like she's the sexiest thing he's ever seen in his life.

"Will I have to do all the work myself?" she purred at him.

He shakes his head like he's coming out of a trance.

He wants to, but he can't.

Talk first, fix things between them. There can be no doubts or regrets.

"No," he says, holding her hands. "Not like this. I'm not that kind of guy…I…" she narrows her eyes and freezes for a moment. He caught a glimpse of something vulnerable in her expression before she could control herself.

He let out a muffled curse.

I'm not rejecting you honey, well I am, but it's for your own good. "Dammit Rachel! Don't look at me like that."

He ran his hands through his silver hair in a gesture of pure frustration.

"You looked exactly like that kind of guy a couple of minutes ago. Don't act like I've insulted you." Then she smiled again, her eyes slowly roaming down his body and returning to his face. "You're a man."

The way she looked at him brought blood thundering to his ears. And not just his ears. Yes, he is a man who wants her with every fiber of his being. But he has to resist temptation. She takes a step forward but now it is he that steps back, maintaining the distance between them. He is not a saint and she sure is not making things easy for him.

He stops walking and raises his hands in surrender. "Stop it. Please."

She took another step forward, and stopped a few inches away from him, close enough to touch him. He swallowed hard, trying to control his body's reaction to her proximity. Trying is the right word because his body is definitely not cooperating.

Rachel smiled; she could not help it. Knowing that she could affect him this way was intoxicating. How easy it would be to make his rigid control slip.

When he looked into her eyes he found his desire reflected back. He groaned. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from surrendering.

"I know you want me."

"I do. Nothing would make me happier than to finally have you naked in my arms, touching your skin, tasting you, using my mouth to make you scream my name, your legs around me when-" His fantasies, described in such vivid detail, made the heat curl in her stomach. "Yeah, I want to make love to you. But we are not ready to take this step– At least not yet."

"Our desire would be satiated and-"

"One night in your bed will not be enough, Rachel."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I don't want a quick fuck to pass time. I want everything. All of you. You're not ready to give yourself to me completely."

"There's only one way to find out."

"No." He shook his head. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, Tom?"

"Your invitation. It's not really what you want. You'd regret it and would hate me for it."

"I don't hate you, I guess I couldn't even if I tried." She says, stepping away from him. "Go home, Tom." I do stupid things when I'm around you. She took a deep breath. Her attempt to seduce him had been pathetic. How much lower could she sink?

Rachel runs up the stairs and a few seconds later, he follows.

"Go home," she repeated.

"No, this time, we will solve all the problems between us."

"The physical attraction between us is strong; we are healthy adults after all. "

"You're lying to yourself and you know it. The physical attraction between us is strong, because there are other feelings involved that feed our desires. I doubt that you have felt the same when you kissed Tex."

"You don't know what I would feel, you don't know anything.''

"Convince me it's Tex that you want and I'm leaving."

She likes Tex, but she doesn't love him.

I could really use a man's perspective.

You're both very attracted to each other from the beginning. I never had a chance. You've made your choice perfectly clear a long time and he did too, although he has been slower to realize it. You two have both been dancing around your feelings for too much time, it's time to stop running, Doc.

Wait! she said WOULD FEEL. Conditional. Could she be lying to him? But why would she do such a thing? Think, idiot. You acted like a jealous Neanderthal, what did you expect?

"You didn't kiss Tex, did you?"

"I don't go out kissing guys just because I'm upset with you, asshole! I'm not like you, Tom."

"What does that mean?"

"Amanda," she said, cursing herself internally.

Tom frowned, looking at her with confusion. "I don't know any Amanda."

Apparently it was not what she wanted to hear. If a look could kill, he'd be a dead man now.

"I swear to God I don't-"

She raised her eyebrows.

"Wait a minute! Are you talking about the reporter, Miss Connor?"

"Oh, he remembers!" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was starting to think my condition is contagious."

In addition to being dead, his body would have turned to ash, because she looked even more angry. He could hardly suppress a smile. "You're jealous."

She heard the smug gratification in his voice. She cursed herself internally again, recognizing the futility of denying it, but doing it anyway.

"What!? No!"

Tom bit back a bigger grin. "Yes, you are," he said softly. "I was just being friendly, honey!"

"Right!" she said, not entirely convinced. "And don't call me honey".

"Ho-Rachel, she's not my type. I walked away because that's what you asked of me, but my feelings haven't changed."

He avoided her like she had the plague.

Can you blame him? You don't want to lose him, but you're afraid to compromise. You were trying to push him away. You succeeded. You're a mess, woman.

"What I want and what I can have do not overlap."

He squinted at her, puzzled. "I'm not following."

"I'm not the one you need, Tom."

He looked into her eyes, mere centimeters separating their bodies. "I decide what I need, who I need."

"What do you want, Tom?"

"You already know. It's always been you that I want, Rachel."

He wants a committed relationship. Bringing her close to his family was the clearest sign of his intentions.

She's not ready for something like that, not yet.

"I'm not ready for this."

"I know, but I'm a patient man, and you're worth it."

How long can you wait, Tom? Maybe I'm too complicated. Perhaps this relationship is doomed to failure. Perhaps we should just give up.

"Despite everything I feel for you, something doesn't fit, I feel there's something wrong."

She is a strong woman. But she still has weaknesses, just like everyone else. They're not as obvious, but they're there.

"It may just be your insecurities talking," he said as gently as possible.

"Maybe," she admits. "So, I need to know what happened during my kidnapping. I need answers, the prisoner you have may have some of those answers."

"Who told you?"

Shit! he realizes too late that his question was a confirmation

"It doesn't matter, he didn't do it on purpose."

He never does. There is only one among his soldiers who would disobey one of his orders when it came to Rachel. Miller! The boy needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

"When can I see the prisoner?"

"You will not get close to him."

"I have the right-"

"No, you have no right," his frustration made his response harder than intended.

She felt a painful sensation of déjà vu when she heard his words. She ignores the feeling, there are more important things now.

"I'll talk to him."

He doesn't mean to snap at her, he really doesn't. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the wave of aggravation caused by her stubbornness.

"You won't," he told her, and his tone let her know it wasn't up for negotiation. "I thought I had lost you! I mourned you. I will not put your safety at risk on a whim."

Whim?! She exhaled slowly. She needed answers and she would have them. Under no circumstances would she give in.

"Is this really what you want?" she asks.

He felt her steely determination. When she sets her mind to something, she will not stop until it's done. He took a step forward. They were only inches apart.

In his desperation his words were delivered with icy coldness. "This has never been about what I want- "

There was enough genuine alarm in her eyes to reduce his irritation to a more manageable level. Then something unidentifiable flickered across Rachel's face.

The human mind is like a maze full of doors, wherein the proper keys can reveal the guarded secrets. The way memories are stored is related to its emotional content, therefore, it affects the way they are remembered.

He had said that before, his vocal intonation had been exactly the same, filled with icy coldness, and it hurts just as much now as it did then.

The words of Tom and the conversation about the death of Niels were intertwined, because on that day the differences between them became painfully clear. She had managed to deal with his disappointment, but indifference and contempt were hard to bear coming from someone she was beginning to love. It broke her in a way that nothing more could. A memory buried in her subconscious came rearing back to the surface. Painful. Almost suffocating her in its intensity. It was like lava flowing and she cannot stop it.

"Rachel!"

She did not answer, didn't even blink, looking straight ahead, not making any eye contact.

Suddenly a quick memory flashed through her mind.

She watches a man dying in agony, blood in his eyes, nose, mouth…

Another memory, fragments of a conversation…

"As a commander in the United States Navy, I'm not authorized to sentence you for your crimes at sea. But if we ever find a safe place to make a port, I will turn you over to civilian authorities, and you will answer for your crime."

"Is this really what you want?"

"This has never been about what I want." His tone was icy, his anger snaking along the words.

The memory ended, almost too abruptly, bringing her back to reality. Rachel looks at him, a horrified expression in her face.

His voice was urgent "Rachel, what's wrong?"

Abruptly she moves away from him. The painful memories made her whole-body tremble in shock. Struggling to think, to breathe…

"Rachel?" Tom extends his hand to touch her.

"Don't touch me." She screams. "You lied to me… each person on this military base lied to me… what kind of man are you?" she asks desperately "We are not friends, we are not allies… the escort, you needed to make sure the others were 'safe' from me."

"Rachel, what exactly do you remember?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"I killed a man ... y-you said I would be tried for murder. I ... he bled from mouth, nose, choked on his own blood ... I… I remember thinking that it was not fair, he should suffer more, I should have found a way to kill him slowly…I remember eviscerating his body later," She looks at her hands. "God! What kind of monster am I?" Anguish in her voice.

"Rachel…honey" he said, trying to approach her again.

"Stay away from me," she screams and takes another step backwards.

As he tries to approach the more she retreats, which is dangerous to her as she has her back to the stairs.

"Rachel, stop, please. I will not get closer, I promise, just listen to me. You're not remembering the whole story and you have been here for several months already. If I wanted to arrest you, I would have done that when I found you at Jake and Elena's house.…"Tom said, trying to make her think rationally.

She isn't listening because she's fighting her demons.

"Who am I? What am I?"

A pair of frightened brown eyes looked pleadingly up into Tom's face, looking for answers. She seemed so scared, anguished and vulnerable. He had learned to be a good strategist, to see a problem and look for new ways to solve it. But now words fail him, lying is not an option, but the whole truth can do more harm.

His words acquired a more urgent tone, almost desperate. "You're not a monster…"

So why did you treat me like I was?

"… you're only human… Rachel, a human being is not perfect, no one is, but you are a brilliant scientist, you saved thousands of lives, you risked your life to save mine, and you are beautiful, brave, passionate, stubborn…believe me," he begged.

She wanted to believe him, but if he was lying, everything was so confusing in her head.

"I remember the contempt in your eyes when you said that I had put blood on your hands… I would pay for my crimes… I should have died in that kidnapping. I would be another victim, a number to add to the statistics, easily forgotten as if I had never existed. Only one more casualty of war…"

"Please don't say that, Rachel, please! I cannot bear to lose you again! I need you in my life, please…."

"Of course, you need to, because you have found a more painful way to punish me, to play with me, pretend you care…"

"That's not true, I love you! I would do anything for you, I was so lost and broken when I thought you were dead!"

"Can you love a murderer?" She remembers when he turned his back on her, the coldness in his eyes hurt. "As I recall you wanted distance. You made it very clear how much you considered me despicable. I saw contempt in your eyes...contempt for a murderer!"

"Rachel, please, let me try to explain…" he pleaded. His worst nightmare was happening right before his eyes.

"Until now you do not deny I killed a man, because it's true what I remember, isn't it?"

He had never felt so powerless in his entire life.

"Tell me the truth!" She demanded and then continued. "When we talked in Jake and Elena's house, you said 'I will be with you the whole way,' I trusted you."

"You can still trust me, my feelings for you are real. That has not changed! When I found out what happened to Niels, my emotions got the better of me! I know I put you in that position and you snapped! I am to blame for what you did…." he pleaded for her to understand him.

For a moment as she looked into the depths of his blue eyes, she wished to believe, and how she would like to believe, her feelings are confused, because she cannot reconcile what she remembers to be true with what she feels in her heart.

The way she looked at him, her brown eyes full of distrust, and something he had only seen in the eyes of his enemies, but never expected to see in her eyes, fear. She is afraid of him.

"Rachel, I would never hurt you. Never."

He's hurt you before. He turned his back on you. He despises you for what you did.

"You already did," she whispers to herself. "I think I should be prepared for a reaction like that, but it stung nonetheless."

She seemed to remember what had happened, at least a version of what had happened. A version of the truth. Her version, her perception of what happened, how he made her feel. He had never realized until now how much he had hurt her, how harsh his words had been.

She met Tom's gaze, sensing he felt the same despair she did. His gaze pleaded with her to let him come closer.

Which of the two men was real? Rachel asks herself. The cold, implacable man who judged and condemned her for murder or the passionate man who claimed to love her.

She had to leave. She had to think away from him.

She turned abruptly away and he tried to hold her and instinctively she used her training to break free by making them both stumble on the stairs. The bodies hitting on the stair steps, causing groans of pain. Tom tries to use his body to protect Rachel and when they reach the end of the stairs he hits his head on the floor and loses consciousness.

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

She pulled away from his protective embrace; her first instinct was to run away. Think logically, Rachel. The man is hurt. He does not represent any danger.

You killed him too, a voice in her head screamed.

No, I felt his heart beating when I was in his arms.

She reached out a trembling hand to touch his neck and check for a pulse to see if he was breathing. He was.

Concentrate Rachel, he needs help.

She examined him; there was no apparent bleeding, there were no fractures in his arms and legs. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, carefully until she found a bump on his head.

As she did so she heard voices outside, she froze, her heart pounding fast. She would be arrested. She had hurt him, maybe severely, there could be some internal injury, although it has been an accident, they would never believe in a killer, because if her memories were reliable, that's what she was.

A few seconds later, she heard the sound of the key being turned in the lock. She freaked out and got up from where she crouched on the floor, her only thought was to escape. The sore body made it difficult for her to move.

"Forgive me;" she begs the unconscious man. They'll take care of you." Then moved to the back of the house, looking for an escape route, she had to avoid the soldiers who took care of the perimeter.

Bertrise's scream drew the attention of the soldiers who took care of the perimeter; they ran to find out what was going on. This allowed her to sneak using the darkness to get away, to escape from the place that had been her home in recent months.

Jake and Elena could help her, she thought, but quickly dismissed the idea, she was not worthy of their friendship…They took care of a woman named Rebecca, a woman without memory, without a dark past, they do not deserve to know Dr. Rachel Scott, the cold-blooded killer.

Desperation was beginning to overwhelm her thoughts, because she knew now that she could not trust anyone. She was hopelessly alone. She had no family, friends. Her life was a lie.

She plunges further into the dark night, hiding like a criminal, she is a criminal, a murderer, she thought bitterly.

She has no idea how long it has been since she fled, minutes, hours, her stunned mind doesn't know.

She stops at the front of a building about four floors, abandoned, seemingly doomed. Cautiously she approached, looking for a way to enter the building. Her head hurts and her body begs to rest. She forces her feet forward steadily, her hands groping the wall. Her efforts are rewarded when she finds a half-open door.

Rachel squeezed her slender body through the partially opened door and entered the building. The glass windows and the moonlight partially illuminate the interior. She felt something damp and slippery going through her foot, probably a rat, in a place like this, it should be full of them, not a big deal.

Inside the building, her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside and it can better see the decay of the place, a ladder that seemed to lead to other floors, dust, cobwebs, some drawings on the walls, and trash all over the place. In a place like this, they would not look for her.

She sought a less dirty place amid the chaos and sat on the floor next to a window.

Tears fill her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. "Who are you?" She asks the woman reflected in the glass, but the answer is silence.

Her forehead touches the cold glass and her body finally succumbs to the fatigue of the last hours. She falls into a troubled sleep, repressed memories return to haunt her, images of blood and death, cold blue eyes, words of accusation… you deserve to be in jail…you're a murderer…murderer…


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