RESTORATION OF SANITY
Donovan coasted his vehicle in and out of the quickly thickening traffic. Black Heart intended to fly out today. He had found out easily enough. He sat out in his car and called every airline known to man. After several tries, and almost giving up, he hit pay dirt. A woman paid for an airline ticket with another of John D. Grizzell's credit cards. It appeared that the vile black widow was making her way to Louisiana. He checked his wristwatch and saw that he had some time to stop her from boarding that flight. Today, it would end with either she or he in a body bag. At the moment, he didn't care which way it ended. Beside him, his cell phone chirped as a text message came in. As he had done before, he ignored it. He had little time to concern himself with his persistent former team members.
* * *
She leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. It didn't matter that it was hard and unyielding; she had never felt so relaxed. She had snuck out right under that agent's nose. She had played him like a violin. It would be fun to regroup in Louisiana and think up creative ways to kill him when the time came. Her new name, of course, was Loralei Donovan. In a way, it was a wonderfully apt name. She had killed one and would kill the other. Oh, the beauty of it all. Escaping a man such as this one felt better than inheriting millions. Well, almost. She smiled as she thought about the look on his face when she ducked into the crowd. Idiot. How in the world did he think he would catch her? No one had, not for long.
* * *
In a sterile hospital room, Agent Loralei Kadin opened her eyes. Something was stuck in her throat and a great crushing pain had settled itself on her chest. She had no idea where she was or what happened to her. Her first thought didn't center on herself or her condition. She thought only of Frank Donovan and wondered where he was.
* * *
The airport was particularly crowded today. It was still relatively early, though, and the sheer number of travelers shocked him. Donovan casually strolled toward the terminal where Black Heart should be waiting for her flight out. She was here; there was no doubt in his mind. Again, he was surprised at how calm he actually felt. He assumed it was because he knew this was it, the final showdown of them all. He had carried his cell phone with him, but couldn't begin to explain why. It seemed that it chirped every five minutes. He vaguely wondered when the damn battery would give out. It dawned on him. Oh yes. He would need to make a call. The battery couldn't die yet. He couldn't stay focused, couldn't remember anything. When would he stop feeling like this? Perhaps once he took care of her, his mind would be back to normal. He chuckled bitterly. Normal. What was that? Normal had ended the moment he walked out of the hospital. Normal was for someone else.
He entered the terminal and saw dozens of people hurrying along to get to whatever gate they needed. For a moment, he felt as if he were moving in slow motion as he walked through the throngs of people. He didn't intend to shoot her; there were too many people in harms way for that. He would take her out with his bare hands. He had made his decision, and he would stick to it. With anger-blackened eyes, he scanned the area, looking for Black Heart. He absolutely refused to think of her by her new name. If he spoke it aloud, he thought he might end up in a mental hospital.
Donovan didn't notice, but the rushing travelers kept giving him suspicious, nervous glances. He didn't realize that he was a wreck. He hadn't changed clothes or showered or shaved or combed his hair. They thought of this tall, harried man as some type of wild-eyed terrorist. Several people approached security and told them of this psychotic man with murder in his eyes.
Bored now, she reached over and grabbed a magazine she had bought earlier. Ironically enough, it was Fortune magazine. She had always enjoyed thumbing through it. It was like a yearbook for victims. Perhaps she would find something in there about Louisiana millionaires. She crossed her long legs and received several appreciative glances. However, she wasn't paying attention to anything other than her magazine and her continuous quest for wealthy flies. She didn't notice the enraged man standing a few feet away from her.
He saw her legs before he saw her face. She had shielded it from view with a magazine. The legs were enough for him. The woman hiding behind yet another mask was Black Heart. From his left, he noticed airport security approaching while speaking quietly into their radios. Apparently, he was deemed a suspicious character. For the life of him, he didn't know why. From his right, he noticed two familiar figures making their way toward them. Ah. He had to admire their stubborn refusal to let go. Perhaps they had taken a lesson from him. He didn't attempt to escape. His mind was set on one thing, and one thing only. Without making a sound, he charged forward, and knocked Black Heart right out of her chair.
Donovan was on top of her now, and she screamed and hissed like a pissed off cat. When he had tackled her out of her chair, she landed on her stomach. It wasn't good enough for him. He wanted her to see his face as he wrapped his hands around her throat. He wanted her to see him as he inflicted every ounce of pain Loralei had felt. He wanted to hear her take her last breath. None too gently, he turned her over and she began to kick, scream, spit, and curse. He heard nothing, saw nothing. The mission was almost complete. His hands came down toward her throat. She lifted her hand up and planted it firmly against his chin in an effort to ward him off. It didn't work. He reasoned that his arms were plenty long enough. His eyes were fixed and crazed, and until today, she had never been so close to the face of death. Before one finger touched her flesh, several sets of strong hands clamped down on each of his arms. Security had finally arrived.
"He just tried to kill me for no reason," she hissed. "I don't even know him!"
Again, Donovan heard nothing, saw nothing. He kept his murderous glare fixed on her, and horrifyingly enough, he had begun to snarl. He struggled against the hands holding him, and all the while, he never broke his gaze. He couldn't even speak.
"Federal agents," Jake yelled as he ran over to them. He flashed his shield at one of the security guards as Alex came up from the rear. "He's with us, on a special assignment. This woman is wanted in several states." He fixed his own murderous gaze on her face. "Do you know me," he asked through clenched teeth.
Black Heart ran. Donovan struggled against the guards until he freed himself. Alex took off after Donovan while Jake worked busily to placate the security guards. Donovan caught up to her quickly enough and he slammed his body into hers, taking hold of her arm at the same time. She went face down onto the floor and the full weight of his body came down on top of her. He once again went about the task of flipping her over to face him, but a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.
"Let her go, Frank," Alex said sternly. "Let me take care of her. She won't get away. If you don't let go, your life is over. Do you understand? Your life will be over. She's not worth it. She's not worth giving up your life. Let her go."
Rational Donovan heard her words, made sense of them, but his need for vengeance hadn't been met just yet. He refused to let go, and wouldn't have if Alex hadn't administered a savage blow to the back of his neck, hard enough to knock him out, hard enough to nearly break her hand.
* * *
Donovan awoke with a massive headache and stiff neck. His body was laid out on a thin mattress. He sat up suddenly, realizing his mistake instantly as his head swam sickly. He glanced around at his surroundings. This room was some type of holding cell. He was in jail. What the fuck, he thought in confusion. For a moment, he didn't know what was going on. It didn't take long for him to remember. Black Heart. The bitch. Where the fuck was she? He stood up [another mistake] and his head began to spin again. Someone had hit him. He caressed the nape of his neck and tried to remember. Alex. Alex had hit him. What the hell? He sat down hard on the cot and held his head in his hands. He had failed Loralei and himself. Not one easily thwarted, he would finish the job as soon as he could escape this tiny room. He didn't move until he heard a key rattling in the door. He looked up into the faces of Jake and Alex standing in the doorway. Both of them stood staring at him solemnly. Alex's hand was wrapped and held up close to her body.
"I suggest the you move. If I must, I'll go through you both," he said gruffly.
"Would you cut the shit and listen for a minute," Jake spat. "She's secure, Donovan. We saw to that."
"Do you think that matters to me," he asked harshly. "Do you think that will stop me? She will die, by my hands and mine alone."
"Shut up and listen," Jake demanded. "Look at your phone, Boss. Look at the damn thing. Nobody took it away from you before they threw you in here. I made sure of that. Look at the damn phone, read the text messages."
He was too angered and flabbergasted to do anything other than honor Jake's request. Dazedly, he dug out the phone and snapped it open. He hit a button and entered a code. There were at least fifteen text messages awaiting him. All of them said the same thing: Loralei is alive. She needs you. He gazed down at the message and read it again and again. It made as much sense to him as advanced algebra made to a five-year-old. It couldn't be. He had been with her in the ambulance. He saw her die. Was this some type of cruel trick to fool him into thinking he didn't need to carry out his mission? Was that it? He was angry and shocked at the same time. He wasn't sure what to believe anymore.
Donovan gazed up into the faces of Alex and Jake. He swallowed a huge lump in his throat that threatened to choke the life out of him. "Is this some kind of game," he asked.
"No. We would never hurt you like that," Alex said. "Go to the hospital and see for yourself. She died in the ambulance, but they brought her back. If you don't go to her, she will be gone forever. Snap out of it and help her."
* * *
He allowed Jake and Alex to escort him to the hospital. He still couldn't believe it. He kept staring at the phone, revisiting all those messages he had chosen to ignore. When he saw the time on the first message, bitter tears began to fall out of his eyes. He didn't regret the time spent hunting down the black widow. What he regretted was the fact that he could have taken that time and spent it with Loralei. It was a harsh fact of life that made his heart ache more than the thought of her death. As if in a dream, he drifted from the car to the double doors of the hospital. He followed mutely behind the two agents as they led him down a narrow hallway toward ICU. It couldn't be true. How could it? How? How could she live?
As they neared the room, a nurse said, "You cannot stay long. She needs to stay calm for the next forty-eight hours."
He stepped up to the open doorway of the white, sterile room. Loralei. Her body was prone and unmoving. Her chest rose and fell, incredibly, on its own. There was plenty of machinery and tubes attached to her here and there, but she was wonderfully, beautifully, incredibly alive. For a very long time, he couldn't move, and he didn't notice as Alex and Jake slipped away. He could only stare helplessly at her from the door. His feet finally began to move his body forward. As he approached the bedside, he couldn't believe that he had a second chance to say the things he didn't say, to do the things he didn't do. He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and she was resting so very peacefully. His eyes wondered to her chest. The very act of her breathing held him transfixed. He closed his eyes for a moment against the tears that threatened to overtake him. He had lost his mind, had sank into some crazed abyss. All along, she had been alive. All along, she had needed him.
"All for you, my love," he whispered.
He kissed two of his fingers and placed them briefly on her forehead. He then dragged a chair over to her bedside and sat down. He took her cold hand into his, transferring his warmth, his life. His other hand caressed her hair. What he wouldn't give to see her beautiful eyes open and gazing up at him.
"I love you, Loralei," he said. "I have failed you miserably, but it will never happen again. If you've made it this far, you can make it all the way. I need you in my life to surprise me, to keep kicking my ass when I get out of line. I lost you once, I don't ever want to lose you again."
"Sir," a voice said from behind him. It was the nurse. "Sir, I'm sorry, but you should go."
He nodded and then looked up at her. "Do you think she heard me," he asked.
"I'm sure she did."
He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. "I'm here for you. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."
Donovan released her hand and laid it gently atop her stomach. He didn't want to leave the room, but he understood that she had a very long road of recovery ahead of her, and she would need all the rest she could get. With one last look at her, he stood and left the room. Jackson, Alex, Jake, and who he assumed was Loralei's parents sat awaiting him. The Kadins weren't sure what role this tall stranger had played in their daughter's shooting, but he definitely looked like hell.
"Who are you," Geneva Kadin demanded.
Who am I, he thought. Who am I? Sometimes I ask myself the same thing. "You're Loralei's parents," he stated rather than questioned. "I'm Frank Donovan, and I'm in love with your daughter." Leaving it at that, he moved away from the small crowd and planted his body firmly into a chair.
"Were you with her when this happened?"
Donovan looked up into the face of Loralei's mother. They shared the same hair and eye color. Her father hadn't approached him. He stayed behind with Jackson, probably blaming him. "No."
"Are you…FBI?"
"Not exactly," he answered. She was studying him curiously through eyes the same depth in shade as Loralei's. It hurt a little just looking into them. She appeared to want some type of explanation from this man who claimed to love her daughter. "We were helping her and Agent Jackson with a case. The case literally blew up in our faces. When this happened to her, she was at my apartment, and I was on my way to pick her up. I couldn't…couldn't get to her in time."
He buried his face into his hands. He was exhausted. He had never been so tired. Now that he knew Loralei would live, his hyped up adrenaline had begun to slack off. On top of that, he had to face Loralei's parents, to let them know he had failed their daughter. The grief gnawed at him, still so very incredible and fresh. He wanted to go back to Loralei, to crawl into her bed and hold her. Fresh tears welled in his eyes, everything seemingly hitting him all at once.
The gentle hand of Geneva Kadin fell on his trembling shoulder. "She will live, Mr. Donovan, and it's probably because of you," she said softly.
He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to hear the 'good' thing he had done. For every good thing he had brought into Loralei's life, it was overshadowed by his own insanity. However temporary it was, it nearly drove him away from her. Mingled with that was sheer utter joy and relief. His lover had not died, and he wouldn't fail to tell her he loved her every day.
