After having spent another uncomfortable night on the floor, Jarod
listened to the noises of his keepers' approach with a modicum of relief - at
least he'd be allowed to move around a bit, and it was something to relieve the
boredom.
This time it wasn't Miss Parker or Dr Jackson, but two of the nameless,
mindless guards who escorted him around. They were Laredii's version of
sweepers, Jarod decided as they released him from his leg shackle and herded him
up the ladder. He considered making a break for it, but knew it would just
result in another painful beating, one he couldn't afford if Parker intended to
break him out soon.
He was surprised when he entered the lab to find not only Jackson, but
also Parker there, and shot her a questioning glance as the goons chained him to
a desk and chair, which were bolted to the floor. Her face revealed nothing,
and he flashed Jackson a deliberately annoyed look, sitting slowly.
"Don't tell me - if I don't cooperate, she's going to break my fingers," he
jeered.
"If you think that would help you focus, Jarod, then I'd be happy to assist,"
Miss Parker quipped. Jarod almost smiled; he was quite enjoying their banter
now that she was trying to help rather than harm him.
"Ms Mark is here for my benefit, Jarod," Jackson said calmly. In a now familiar
ritual, he placed a sheet of paper in front of Jarod. He glanced over it
quickly, noting the complex mathematical problems, problems far beyond the
average person's intellect. Jackson and his team had been trying to determine
the extent of Jarod's intelligence for a long time now, but he had refused to
play ball.
"This has never worked before, why would you possibly think I'd start now?"
Jarod demanded impatiently. Jackson shrugged, and Jarod flicked his eyes over
to where Parker was leaning against the wall with cool poise.
"Dr Jackson, I could really use a cup of coffee. Care to join me?" she asked
sweetly. Jackson hesitated for a moment, but she gave him a meaningful look,
and they left the room together a few seconds later.
Jarod was no fool. There was a two-way mirror set into one wall, and he
knew they were behind it, watching him. In frustration, he wondered at what
Parker was playing at. How was this possibly helping him?
As the minutes slowly ticked by, Jarod grew more and more restless. He
studied the shackle on his leg, as he had many times before, knowing there was
no way he could get it open. He was only allowed solid graphite pencils for the
work, not a pen, which he could have broken apart and used as a makeshift tool.
As his boredom steadily increased, he realised what Parker was doing. If
she could prove herself useful to Jackson and Dalton, there was the possibility
that she would be given more time alone with Jarod. And to prove herself
useful, she had to get him to work.
With an exasperated expression, Jarod made a great show of reluctantly
picking up the pencil and doing some work.
****
"It worked!" Jackson said in surprise, and Parker smiled smugly.
"Of course it worked. Pretenders are very smart, and need to be mentally
stimulated at all times, or they get very bored very quickly. Jarod would
rather do the problems you gave him than sit there and do nothing."
It wasn't entirely true. From the accounts of people he'd spent time
with, Jarod could go for long periods doing absolutely nothing at all, at least
on the surface, anyway. From when they were children she knew that he liked to
create and solve problems in his head, and almost seemed to find it as a method
of relaxation - a lack of external stimulation wouldn't be a problem for very
long. But Laredii didn't have to know that, and if she fed them a little
misinformation, what could it do but benefit the Centre?
"How long should we leave him for?" Jackson asked, a newfound respect in his
voice.
"Until he finishes. Then I daresay we should get in there as quickly as
possible - he might destroy it after he's done," Miss Parker said serenely,
watching as Jarod bent over his paper, tapping his left thigh. It was a scene
she had witnessed before, seven years ago. Then, Jarod had never comprehended
life outside the Centre, and no shackles were needed to keep him in place.
Then, she had been ordered to protect him, part of a sick plot to prove herself
to the Triumvirate.
"Looks like he's almost done. Would you like the honours?" Jackson asked with a
slight smile. Parker smiled tightly in return, stepping swiftly out of the
small observation room, rounding the corner and entering the lab stealthily.
Jarod heard her enter, but didn't look around.
"Clever trick, Ms Mark," he said, and Parker knew that he understood what she
was doing and why.
Aware that Jackson was watching, she leaned over Jarod's shoulder to push his
hands away from the completed sheet, and studied the results. Jarod inhaled
deeply, turning his head so his face was close to her neck. She pressed a
little closer, so her breasts brushed against his back, and ignored the little
thrill she got from the action.
"You wouldn't throw these results, now would you Jarod?" she asked in a sultry
fashion. He didn't answer for a few seconds.
"Now that would be my prerogative, wouldn't it?" he murmured, his breath warm on
her neck.
"We'll be needing those results, Ms Mark!" Dalton called from the doorway, and
Parker did her best not to openly startle.
Instead she straightened up slowly, allowing the tips of her fingers to rest on
the gentle curve of where Jarod's neck met shoulder. He gave a barely
noticeable shiver, and she wondered just how much of his performance was faked.
Pasting on a smile, she turned slightly to face Dalton.
"Jarod's been very cooperative," she said silkily, and felt him tense under her
fingers.
"And it won't be happening again!" he snapped belligerently.
"We'll see Jarod, we'll see," Dalton said.
****
Jarod knew he was asking for trouble. Miss Parker was escorting him back
to the pit again, and due to the cameras in the lift, hadn't spoken a word to
him. He lounged indolently in the corner, ignoring her gun. He had every
confidence that she was going to break him out soon, and in the meantime was
going to have a little fun.
"Oh Ms Ma-ark," he called in a song-song voice. She ignored him.
Jarod straightened slightly, biting his lip and focusing on her with a
predatory expression. He began to inch across the elevator floor towards her,
his hands bunched close to his chest, as if preparing to grab her.
"Ms Mark, you've been *so*nice to me these last few days," he said mockingly.
She stiffened slightly, but continued to ignore him, waiting impatiently for the
lift to finish its journey.
"I just don't know how to thank you..." Jarod whispered, mere inches away now.
The elevator doors opened, and Miss Parker brushed past him, not waiting for him
to follow. It wasn't until they reached the corridor that was clear of cameras
that she spoke, shoving him up against the wall and pinning him there.
"Quit it, Jarod, your little games are getting real tired real fast," she
hissed. He grinned.
"If I had a dollar for every time you said that..."
"I'll show you where you can shove your goddamned dollar!" Parker muttered, and
Jarod leaned forward, so his face was barely an inch away from hers. With slow
deliberation, he lowered his gaze to focus on her mouth.
"I think you like me, Miss Parker," he whispered.
Letting out a frustrated growl, Parker gave him a quick shove and stepped
away from him, breathing heavily.
"You sure do like to delude yourself, you over-sized monkey!" she snarled.
Jarod frowned, his good mood dissipating.
"If anyone around here is suffering from delusions, it's you!" he replied.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Parker said, crossing her arms across
her chest defensively.
"Oh, come off it. 'You're just a job Jarod...'" he mimicked, and Parker's face
went dark with fury.
"You'd damn well better believe it, you fool," she said, and Jarod laughed.
"I wasn't a job seven years ago..." he accused. Parker was almost shaking with
anger now, and she jabbed a finger at him.
"Seven years ago, you were a mistake! I risked my neck for you, and why? For
some sick damn test, one that you yourself devised! I have blood on my hands
because of you, you freak, so you'd better be just a *damn* job, otherwise I'd
shoot you right now for what you did to me!"
Jarod went cold, staring at her with his mouth agape.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about Jarod. I've had enough," she said tiredly,
grabbing his arm and propelling him along the corridor, "It's time for you to go
back to your hole."
Jarod wanted to say a lot more, but knew that he couldn't in an area where
he could possibly be filmed. As Parker chained him again in the pit, he thought
back over her words. 'Blood on my hands,' she had said. Sydney had told him
that nobody had been seriously hurt during the kidnapping attempt, but he
supposed Sydney might not have told him the truth at the time. It just hadn't
occurred to Jarod to doubt his Mentor back then. As Parker stood up to leave,
he thought frantically of some way to show her he wanted to further their
discussion later.
"Ms Mark?" he called softly. At the foot of the ladder, Parker turned to look
at him with narrowed eyes, and he offered her a gentle smile, "I'll see you
later, Ms Mark."
Miss Parker made no acknowledgement, turning instead to climb up the
ladder and leave him alone once more.
****
Miss Parker found that her diving training returned to her quite easily,
and returned to her rooms the next afternoon with a feeling of quiet confidence.
Jackson had shown her all the equipment, as well as how to access the storage
shed where it was kept. They had enjoyed a quick dive on the reef together, and
then washed up their wetsuits and equipment. She showered quickly to rinse the
salt off her body, checked the room once again and pulled out her satellite
phone.
"Lyle here," came the swift response, and Miss Parker frowned impatiently.
"Where's Broots?" she asked, and Lyle made a soft sighing sound.
"Hell of a way to greet the brother you haven't seen in months," he said.
"Hello brother," Parker said sweetly, "Where's Broots?"
"He's here. We're working on some 'reward' advertisements for the internet,"
Lyle said smoothly. Miss Parker new that the advertisements would be
conspicuous enough for Laredii Industries to find them, and view it as another
sign that the Centre was becoming more and more desperate.
"Miss Parker?" Broots' voice came on the line. She surmised that Lyle was still
on the line - she could hear him breathing.
"Do you have anymore information on the island, Broots?" she asked, and there
was a brief rustling of paper.
"Yes, some blueprints from the original construction on the island - I'm not
sure how up to date they are, but I'm emailing them to your account," Broots
said.
"Parker, have you made contact with Jarod?" Lyle asked.
"I have. He's all right, but he's suffered some beatings. The staff don't
quite seem to know how to deal with him - they're still attempting to map out
his abilities," Miss Parker said, trapping the phone between her ear and her
shoulder as she pulled her laptop out of her briefcase.
"They haven't got him doing simulations, have they?" Broots asked, and she
laughed.
"Hardly. They wouldn't know where to begin - they planned his capture
perfectly, but now that they have him, they're not sure what to do with him."
"Do you know how you're going to get him out yet?" Lyle asked impatiently.
"Getting access to Jarod isn't the problem. It's getting him off the island I'm
worried about. Laredii has security on both the island and the mainland, so if
I did manage to get him off the island, they'd be waiting for me at the dock.
I'm beginning to think that I may need Centre involvement to provide a
distraction," Parker mused.
"Dad doesn't want-" Lyle began.
"I know what Daddy doesn't want," Miss Parker interrupted irritably, "But I
simply can't do this alone. Tell Daddy I'll call him with the details - and I
expect all the backup I need."
Parker ended the call, crossing her arms and letting out a soft hiss of
impatience. She didn't want this situation to end like the Specifics attack
seven years ago - with blood on her hands.
****
That afternoon, Parker descended into the pit with Dalton by her side.
Jarod was lying on the floor, and didn't rise when they dropped the ladder down,
nor when they approached him. Miss Parker assessed the bruises she could see on
his back, and the shallow rise and fall of his breathing.
"What happened?" she is asked Dalton, who sighed.
"He must have attempted escape again," the blonde said lightly.
Jarod wouldn't have attempted another escape, Parker knew, wouldn't have
risked injury when help was so near at hand. From the cruel, vindictive
expression on Dalton's face, she realised that Jarod's beating, both this time
around and perhaps in the past as well, was probably because the Pretender had
rejected her advances. And seeing him behave like a lovesick puppy to me
couldn't have helped either, Miss Parker mused.
"Help me roll him over," she said coldly.
Together they pushed and pulled Jarod onto his back, and Parker knelt over
him. One eye was swollen, and there was blood trickling from a cut on his lip.
She touched her hand to his forehead, and almost snatched it away again when she
realised how hot he was. Jarod cracked his eyes open at her touch, and she
could see they were clouded with pain.
"Can you get up?" Miss Parker asked. Jarod blinked slowly, and rolled his head
from side to side, no. She looked over her shoulder at Dalton, trying not to
let her fury seep into her voice, "He needs medical attention. Is there some
way to lift him out of here?"
Dalton looked impatient, "I suppose a stretcher and some ropes... is this
really necessary?"
"He has a fever, and we can't take the risk of internal bleeding. He may need a
hospital - tell your men to be a little more careful next time, Pretenders are
worth more than their annual salary."
Getting Jarod out of the pit wasn't an easy operation. Three men and
Jackson rigged up a stretcher with some ropes. Dalton and Parker steadied the
stretcher as best they could while the men pulled him up.
"The nurse's station doesn't have a bed, is there any other quarters we could
take him to?" Parker asked when he was on ground level. Dalton looked
uncomfortable, seeming to regret the idea of having Jarod beaten in the first
place.
"There is only the quarters on the ground floors..." she said hesitantly.
"That will have to do, we'll just have to post guards," Parker said decisively,
motioning for the men to continue on to the elevator. Dalton caught her arm
angrily.
"Ms Mark, you are overstepping your authority. Jarod is *my* project, and-"
"No, Miss Dalton, you are overstepping yours," Miss Parker interrupted, staring
the other woman down, "Jarod is Laredii's project, and I am here to protect
Laredii's interests. A beating on your orders in not what I consider to be in
Laredii's best interest, rather your personal vendetta. I am relieving you of
any influence over Jarod, and will be contacting the Director to inform him of
your misconduct. That will be all, Miss Dalton."
And with that, Parker left the gaping woman behind, accompanying Jarod and
the men into the elevator.
****
Jarod watched Miss Parker quietly conferring with Jackson from the corner
of the room, apparently oblivious to the security guys that wandered around her,
removing anything that could be used. Jarod's leg had been shackled to the bed,
and one guy was installing a series of new locks on the doors. Jarod wasn't
particularly concerned, and tilted his head to look out the window.
Rainforest. Sunlight. He realised what an incredibly long six months it
had been, and was struck once again by how much he missed his freedom. What he
wanted now was the taste of fresh air, the wind blowing in his face and perhaps
a nice long swim, but he settled for watching the colourful birds hang from the
trees instead.
When the last of the men had cleared out, Jarod watched Jackson lean in
for one more, furious whisper to Parker before stalking out of the room, and
surmised the two were probably arguing about Parker's dismissal of Dalton. The
door slammed, and Miss Parker turned to gaze at Jarod, flicking the key to the
door over her fingers with practised ease.
She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a wet
cloth and washbasin, perching on the edge of the bed and laying the cloth across
his forehead. Jarod watched her through his painfully swollen eye, raising his
hand and miming a pen. Parker frowned at him, taking out a pen. She held out
her hand, and Jarod scrawled a question onto her skin, 'SURVEILLANCE?'
Miss Parker nodded, rising and systematically checking all the rooms for
bugs. Jarod watched in admiration; she was methodical and thorough, a look of
concentration on her face as she checked everything. When she was finished, she
came back to sit beside him, shaking her head.
"All clear," she said, and Jarod smiled, lifting his hand and flipping the cloth
on his forehead over so that he got the fresh, cooler side. Miss Parker caught
his hand as he went to drop it again.
"You're moving that arm pretty well for a man who couldn't get off the floor an
hour ago," she said with a wry smile.
"The change of scenery must have done me good," he said, and she laughed.
"You asshole," she said, "I was about to have a panic attack, thinking I
couldn't get you out of here."
"A little exaggeration never went astray," Jarod said softly. Parker looked
around at Jarod's new and improved quarters, on the ground floor, no less.
"No, I guess not," she murmured. Miss Parker wet the cloth again, laying it
across Jarod's forehead, and then tilted his chin up slightly, frowning, "You've
got a cut just above your collarbone, I should probably dress that."
She disappeared into the bathroom again, and Jarod stretched, attempting
to get some of the kinks out of his body. He winced slightly at a pain in his
ribs. When Parker came back into the room, he had the sheet around his waist,
and was attempting to peer down his body at his ribs.
"What the hell are you doing now?" she asked irritably, sitting next to him and
pushing him down by the shoulder.
"My ribs hurt. Can you see if there's any bruising?" he asked.
Miss Parker nodded, tucking the blankets down to his hips. She leaned
over his body for a closer inspection, several locks of her silky hair falling
free and brushing his chest. Gently she probed the area with cool fingers, and
Jarod sucked in a breath when she touched several of the lower ribs where they
were closest to his breastbone.
"There's no bruising, yet it's obviously tender," Parker said in confusion.
"The cartilage must be strained, it'll probably heal up within a day or two,"
Jarod said mildly. He knew it wouldn't take long to heal, but it was certainly
going to make sleeping and moving around in the meantime hell.
Miss Parker pushed and prodded at the area for a few seconds longer, and
then turned her attention to the cut on his neck. She cleaned it gently with
the cloth first, put some antiseptic on it and then a small adhesive bandage.
With her leaning in so close to his face, Jarod couldn't help smell her perfume,
something soft, slightly spicy and delicate, suiting her perfectly. He could
detect just the slightest hint of seawater under her perfume, and instinctively
turned his head so his nose was close to her hair, inhaling deeply.
"That should do it. Remind me to change the bandage tomor-" Miss Parker sat up
abruptly, trailing off when she realised what he was doing. Jarod turned his
face away in embarrassment.
"Uh, thanks," he said, and Parker nodded, concentrating on soaking the cloth
again.
"I've been in contact with the Centre, and they've promised backup," she said,
not meeting his gaze, "You'll need a day or two to recover, and a day or two for
me to get all the preparations in order, but it shouldn't be long before we make
a move, so be ready. Can you scuba dive?"
Jarod was tempted to laugh at her brusque attitude, but nodded instead, "I
was an instructor once."
"Perfect," Parker said, gathering up the antiseptic and bandage wrappers and
rising, "I'll be back tomorrow. Don't do anything stupid."
A few minutes later she was gone, and Jarod relaxed against the soft
pillow sleepily. He turned his head again to watch the birds, smiling slightly.
Just a matter of time, he decided, and then he'd be free again.
****
That evening, Miss Parker called the Director of Laredii Industries from
her room. The conversation was brief but to the point; the Director approved of
her handling of Dalton, and would request the woman's immediate return to the St
Louis offices, and further investigation into her actions would be pending.
After that, Parker made a quick call to her father, outlining the situation with
Jarod and her intentions to get him out within five days.
"Good job, Angel," her father said approvingly, and Parker felt a warm sense of
pride in her chest.
"Daddy, I'm afraid the Centre is going to have to have a hand in this. I can't
take Jarod back to the mainland, as Laredii operatives would be waiting for us,
I'm going to have to take him out by sea. Can we arrange a meeting point on the
reef?" Miss Parker asked. There was a long silence as her father mulled over
her question.
"I'll send some people into Fiji, Angel, and see what I can do. We've managed
to get a few men into Australia so far, after you get Jarod out, I think we'd
like to have Laredii Island shut down for good. I'll have that techie of yours
send you the details. How is Jarod reacting to your presence there?"
"He's been good about it, I think he wants us to get him out as much as we want
him out. He's done nothing that could reveal my true identity, and is
cooperating fully," Miss Parker said smoothly. There was a soft sound of
approval.
"Another reason you were perfect for the job, Angel. Get him out soon," her
father said, and ended the call.
Miss Parker made herself a drink and turned on some soft music, staring out the
window into the dark tropical forest. She was pleased by her father's promise
of support, but nevertheless felt troubled by the whole situation. Her father
was using her love for him and her compassion for Jarod shamelessly, placing her
into a very dangerous situation with no safety net. Sure, everything was roses
while she remained in a position of control, but should her true identity be
discovered, Parker had no doubt she was in for a slow and painful death.
Jarod was being his usual painful self, of course, but she had to admit
that some of his antics were... amusing, considering the circumstances.
Considering that she wasn't the focus of his clever mind games for once. The
exaggeration of his injuries was a stroke of genius, Parker thought, and then
smiled. Of course it was genius - Jarod *was* a genius.
The events of the afternoon had surprised her. Miss Parker touched her
fingers to the glass, chewing her lip hesitantly. If she was honest with
herself, Parker had to admit she had taken a little longer than needed
'examining' Jarod's chest, trailing her fingers over his warm golden skin. And
when patching up the cut on his neck, she had raised her head to realise that
Jarod was leaning in, an expression of tender concentration on his face as he
inhaled deeply.
He'd been breathing in her scent.
"Ridiculous," Miss Parker scoffed to herself softly.
Angry at the direction of her thoughts, Parker threw down the last of her
drink in one quick gulp. It wouldn't pay to have those kind of thoughts about
Jarod, in fact it was downright dangerous. She had her career and her life to
think about, not to mention her own self-respect.
If her father was to be believed, Jarod had engineered the situation seven
years ago, in which she had killed a man in an attempt to save his life. A
test, a way to prove her worthiness as head of Security, and, as her father had
explained on more than one occasion, all Jarod's idea in the first place.
The problem with that line, though, was the fact that Jarod had never
mentioned it, not once in the four years he'd been out. Of course, until
recently, Miss Parker had assumed and hoped that Jarod was still unaware of the
identity of his saviour. Immediately after the incident he'd had very little
memory of the actual events, Sydney had reported. Yet if Jarod knew it was
Parker all along, as he had claimed, then why had he never raised the subject?
Surely she would have received a phone call as he made some noble attempt to
appease himself in her eyes?
Parker groaned softly, admitting to herself that she was no longer clear
on exactly what Jarod's involvement had been in the Specifics fiasco seven years
ago. She had held onto the idea of blaming Jarod for so long, she found it hard
to conceive any other possibility. It was true that she had since discovered
her father had lied to her on more than one occasion, and yet...
And yet, if Jarod was not to blame for the blood on her hands, then she
had no basis to hate him in the first place.
****
Jarod spent much of the next day bored. He kept up his act of being far
more hurt than he actually was, which meant laying in the bed and feigning
sleep, for Jackson spent a lot of time in the room, apparently writing up some
notes. Jarod wondered if the Australian doctor was suspicious of him, or merely
had nothing better to do.
In the evening Miss Parker arrived, conferring quietly with Jackson before
bringing Jarod his evening meal on a tray. He made a great show of struggling
to sit up, leaning feebly back on the pillows and panting with exertion.
Jackson watched with interest as Miss Parker settled the tray across his lap.
"You know Jarod, just because you are confined to a bed, doesn't mean your mind
isn't perfectly capable of working," Jackson said, sounding waspish. Parker,
who had her back to the doctor, frowned in brief annoyance, but said nothing.
"I don't know, Doc, your boys got me pretty good this time. Maybe I've got
brain damage," Jarod said weakly. He contemplated the tray in front of him;
there was a bowl of thick potato and leek soup, and a hot crusty roll. It was
the best food served to him in months, and yet Jackson's presence was enough to
turn his stomach.
Miss Parker leaned forward, lifting the dressing on Jarod's neck to check
the wound underneath. He gazed at the graceful curve of her neck for a moment,
and then turned his head in time to catch Jackson's knowing smirk. He felt
Parker's fingertips touch his collarbone lightly, and gave the Australian man a
challenging stare.
"I'm sure Ms Mark has ways of 'coercing' you," Jackson said slyly, his tone
implying that Jarod wouldn't need much persuading at all.
"This dressing needs changing," Parker said flatly, peeling the previous day's
bandage from the base of Jarod's neck. She disappeared into the bathroom, and
he lifted his spoon and dipped it into the soup.
"Don't you have anybody else to pester, Jackson?" Jarod muttered.
"Ms Mark was involved in some other security work today," Jackson said with a
shrug and a leer, "Usually she keeps me otherwise occupied - but I'll leave you
in her capable hands for now.
Miss Parker re-entered the room just as Jackson was leaving, and waited
until the door was closed and locked again before sweeping the room as she had
done the day before. When she found no bugs she perched on the edge of Jarod's
bed, while he eyed her warily.
"How far would you go to get me out of here, Miss Parker?" Jarod asked softly,
beginning to eat his soup. She frowned, taking a small bandage out of its
sterilized wrapper.
"What do you mean?" she asked. Jarod put his spoon down while she applied some
antiseptic cream to the cut on his throat.
"Jackson implied that you and he were..." Jarod trailed off.
"What?" Parker asked sharply.
"Would you sleep with him if it meant you'd get me out?" he asked bluntly. Miss
Parker straightened angrily.
"You over-estimate your value, Jarod," she said dangerously.
"But not your devotion to your father," he countered, "That is why you're doing
this, isn't it? Because Daddy crooked his finger, and you came a running?"
"You bastard!" Miss Parker hissed. Jarod raised his chin defiantly.
"Tell me the truth, Miss Parker. Are you, or are you not, sleeping with
Jackson?"
"And if I were?" she snapped.
"I'd tell you not to bother on my behalf, I'd rather not be responsible for you
whoring yourself," Jarod said, regretting it almost immediately. Parker's eyes
were glittering, and she threw the bandage down in disgust.
"Do your own damn dressing," she growled, standing up and marching off. Jarod
clenched his fist agitatedly.
"Wait!" he called, and Parker stopped, but didn't turn around. Jarod sighed
heavily, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I've just been going crazy cooped up
in here, and I lashed out at you when you don't deserve it."
Miss Parker turned around slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. "I am *not*
sleeping with scum like Jackson. Not even you are worth paying that price,
Jarod," she said angrily. He nodded.
"I know, I'm sorry," Jarod said softly. Grudgingly Parker came back to sit on
the bed, and he pressed the bandage back in her hand. A she applied it, he
tilted his chin up, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully, "Perhaps we should
declare a truce, just a temporary one, until we're out of here. I'd rather just
have one enemy at the moment. No arguing."
Miss Parker nodded, her long hair brushing across his shoulder, "Agreed.
And no bringing up the past, Jarod."
"Fine," he said.
Jarod still wanted to ask what she meant when she said she had blood on her
hands, but decided it could wait until later, until he was off the island, at
least. Miss Parker straightened up slightly, her fingers skimming down his
chest to his ribs, and he almost jumped as her fingers brushed his nipple. Her
fingers probed delicately at his lower ribs, and she seemed not to notice as
Jarod gazed at her with surprise.
"Is this still tender?" Miss Parker asked, and he decided she mustn't have
realised what she'd done.
"Yeah, a bit," Jarod said, picking up his spoon again, and eating with an
enthusiasm he didn't feel.
Her fingers were *cold*, Jarod thought, and wished she'd back off before he had
the kind of response to her proximity that he wouldn't be able to hide when she
took the tray that covered his lap. Parker prodded the area a bit more, as if
doubtful there wasn't a cracked rib in there somewhere. Finally she sat up,
chewing her lip in a distracted way.
"What was the security you were doing today?" Jarod asked, glad she had backed
off.
"The island's control room, just generally checking up on it. Normally
something Dalton would do," Parker said, shrugging, "Another reason to be glad
she's gone."
"She's left already?" he asked.
"Went back to the mainland today," she said with a malicious smile. Jarod
chuckled.
"I'm sure you were sorry to see her go," he said, and Parker gave a soft snort
of derision.
"Yeah, sure."
Parker laughed softly, and Jarod finished off the last of his soup and
bread, feeling content. She didn't laugh nearly enough, and never in his
presence, not since they were children. It was nice to see her face lit up like
that.
"I'd better go," Miss Parker said a short while later, picking up his tray.
Jarod smiled warmly.
"Goodnight, Parker," he called, watching her swaying hips until she had left the
room.
****
Out in the corridor, Parker leaned against the door briefly, ignoring the guard
who stood patiently beside her. She was *definitely* having problems keeping
her distance, and kept having to remind herself that it was just a job. And yet
she'd barely been able to keep her hands off him! So the man has a good body,
Miss Parker thought, doesn't mean you should pet him like a puppy! As she well
knew, this particular pup had a wicked bite.
Balancing the tray on one hand as she headed back to her own rooms, Parker
briefly touched her other hand to her chest, where the scar had once been. It
was a reminder of a time when she was caught off guard, and it had almost cost
Parker her life. A lesson she had learned twice over with Joe seven years ago,
a mistake she was not inclined to forget. Getting too close to Jarod was
dangerous.
****
listened to the noises of his keepers' approach with a modicum of relief - at
least he'd be allowed to move around a bit, and it was something to relieve the
boredom.
This time it wasn't Miss Parker or Dr Jackson, but two of the nameless,
mindless guards who escorted him around. They were Laredii's version of
sweepers, Jarod decided as they released him from his leg shackle and herded him
up the ladder. He considered making a break for it, but knew it would just
result in another painful beating, one he couldn't afford if Parker intended to
break him out soon.
He was surprised when he entered the lab to find not only Jackson, but
also Parker there, and shot her a questioning glance as the goons chained him to
a desk and chair, which were bolted to the floor. Her face revealed nothing,
and he flashed Jackson a deliberately annoyed look, sitting slowly.
"Don't tell me - if I don't cooperate, she's going to break my fingers," he
jeered.
"If you think that would help you focus, Jarod, then I'd be happy to assist,"
Miss Parker quipped. Jarod almost smiled; he was quite enjoying their banter
now that she was trying to help rather than harm him.
"Ms Mark is here for my benefit, Jarod," Jackson said calmly. In a now familiar
ritual, he placed a sheet of paper in front of Jarod. He glanced over it
quickly, noting the complex mathematical problems, problems far beyond the
average person's intellect. Jackson and his team had been trying to determine
the extent of Jarod's intelligence for a long time now, but he had refused to
play ball.
"This has never worked before, why would you possibly think I'd start now?"
Jarod demanded impatiently. Jackson shrugged, and Jarod flicked his eyes over
to where Parker was leaning against the wall with cool poise.
"Dr Jackson, I could really use a cup of coffee. Care to join me?" she asked
sweetly. Jackson hesitated for a moment, but she gave him a meaningful look,
and they left the room together a few seconds later.
Jarod was no fool. There was a two-way mirror set into one wall, and he
knew they were behind it, watching him. In frustration, he wondered at what
Parker was playing at. How was this possibly helping him?
As the minutes slowly ticked by, Jarod grew more and more restless. He
studied the shackle on his leg, as he had many times before, knowing there was
no way he could get it open. He was only allowed solid graphite pencils for the
work, not a pen, which he could have broken apart and used as a makeshift tool.
As his boredom steadily increased, he realised what Parker was doing. If
she could prove herself useful to Jackson and Dalton, there was the possibility
that she would be given more time alone with Jarod. And to prove herself
useful, she had to get him to work.
With an exasperated expression, Jarod made a great show of reluctantly
picking up the pencil and doing some work.
****
"It worked!" Jackson said in surprise, and Parker smiled smugly.
"Of course it worked. Pretenders are very smart, and need to be mentally
stimulated at all times, or they get very bored very quickly. Jarod would
rather do the problems you gave him than sit there and do nothing."
It wasn't entirely true. From the accounts of people he'd spent time
with, Jarod could go for long periods doing absolutely nothing at all, at least
on the surface, anyway. From when they were children she knew that he liked to
create and solve problems in his head, and almost seemed to find it as a method
of relaxation - a lack of external stimulation wouldn't be a problem for very
long. But Laredii didn't have to know that, and if she fed them a little
misinformation, what could it do but benefit the Centre?
"How long should we leave him for?" Jackson asked, a newfound respect in his
voice.
"Until he finishes. Then I daresay we should get in there as quickly as
possible - he might destroy it after he's done," Miss Parker said serenely,
watching as Jarod bent over his paper, tapping his left thigh. It was a scene
she had witnessed before, seven years ago. Then, Jarod had never comprehended
life outside the Centre, and no shackles were needed to keep him in place.
Then, she had been ordered to protect him, part of a sick plot to prove herself
to the Triumvirate.
"Looks like he's almost done. Would you like the honours?" Jackson asked with a
slight smile. Parker smiled tightly in return, stepping swiftly out of the
small observation room, rounding the corner and entering the lab stealthily.
Jarod heard her enter, but didn't look around.
"Clever trick, Ms Mark," he said, and Parker knew that he understood what she
was doing and why.
Aware that Jackson was watching, she leaned over Jarod's shoulder to push his
hands away from the completed sheet, and studied the results. Jarod inhaled
deeply, turning his head so his face was close to her neck. She pressed a
little closer, so her breasts brushed against his back, and ignored the little
thrill she got from the action.
"You wouldn't throw these results, now would you Jarod?" she asked in a sultry
fashion. He didn't answer for a few seconds.
"Now that would be my prerogative, wouldn't it?" he murmured, his breath warm on
her neck.
"We'll be needing those results, Ms Mark!" Dalton called from the doorway, and
Parker did her best not to openly startle.
Instead she straightened up slowly, allowing the tips of her fingers to rest on
the gentle curve of where Jarod's neck met shoulder. He gave a barely
noticeable shiver, and she wondered just how much of his performance was faked.
Pasting on a smile, she turned slightly to face Dalton.
"Jarod's been very cooperative," she said silkily, and felt him tense under her
fingers.
"And it won't be happening again!" he snapped belligerently.
"We'll see Jarod, we'll see," Dalton said.
****
Jarod knew he was asking for trouble. Miss Parker was escorting him back
to the pit again, and due to the cameras in the lift, hadn't spoken a word to
him. He lounged indolently in the corner, ignoring her gun. He had every
confidence that she was going to break him out soon, and in the meantime was
going to have a little fun.
"Oh Ms Ma-ark," he called in a song-song voice. She ignored him.
Jarod straightened slightly, biting his lip and focusing on her with a
predatory expression. He began to inch across the elevator floor towards her,
his hands bunched close to his chest, as if preparing to grab her.
"Ms Mark, you've been *so*nice to me these last few days," he said mockingly.
She stiffened slightly, but continued to ignore him, waiting impatiently for the
lift to finish its journey.
"I just don't know how to thank you..." Jarod whispered, mere inches away now.
The elevator doors opened, and Miss Parker brushed past him, not waiting for him
to follow. It wasn't until they reached the corridor that was clear of cameras
that she spoke, shoving him up against the wall and pinning him there.
"Quit it, Jarod, your little games are getting real tired real fast," she
hissed. He grinned.
"If I had a dollar for every time you said that..."
"I'll show you where you can shove your goddamned dollar!" Parker muttered, and
Jarod leaned forward, so his face was barely an inch away from hers. With slow
deliberation, he lowered his gaze to focus on her mouth.
"I think you like me, Miss Parker," he whispered.
Letting out a frustrated growl, Parker gave him a quick shove and stepped
away from him, breathing heavily.
"You sure do like to delude yourself, you over-sized monkey!" she snarled.
Jarod frowned, his good mood dissipating.
"If anyone around here is suffering from delusions, it's you!" he replied.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Parker said, crossing her arms across
her chest defensively.
"Oh, come off it. 'You're just a job Jarod...'" he mimicked, and Parker's face
went dark with fury.
"You'd damn well better believe it, you fool," she said, and Jarod laughed.
"I wasn't a job seven years ago..." he accused. Parker was almost shaking with
anger now, and she jabbed a finger at him.
"Seven years ago, you were a mistake! I risked my neck for you, and why? For
some sick damn test, one that you yourself devised! I have blood on my hands
because of you, you freak, so you'd better be just a *damn* job, otherwise I'd
shoot you right now for what you did to me!"
Jarod went cold, staring at her with his mouth agape.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about Jarod. I've had enough," she said tiredly,
grabbing his arm and propelling him along the corridor, "It's time for you to go
back to your hole."
Jarod wanted to say a lot more, but knew that he couldn't in an area where
he could possibly be filmed. As Parker chained him again in the pit, he thought
back over her words. 'Blood on my hands,' she had said. Sydney had told him
that nobody had been seriously hurt during the kidnapping attempt, but he
supposed Sydney might not have told him the truth at the time. It just hadn't
occurred to Jarod to doubt his Mentor back then. As Parker stood up to leave,
he thought frantically of some way to show her he wanted to further their
discussion later.
"Ms Mark?" he called softly. At the foot of the ladder, Parker turned to look
at him with narrowed eyes, and he offered her a gentle smile, "I'll see you
later, Ms Mark."
Miss Parker made no acknowledgement, turning instead to climb up the
ladder and leave him alone once more.
****
Miss Parker found that her diving training returned to her quite easily,
and returned to her rooms the next afternoon with a feeling of quiet confidence.
Jackson had shown her all the equipment, as well as how to access the storage
shed where it was kept. They had enjoyed a quick dive on the reef together, and
then washed up their wetsuits and equipment. She showered quickly to rinse the
salt off her body, checked the room once again and pulled out her satellite
phone.
"Lyle here," came the swift response, and Miss Parker frowned impatiently.
"Where's Broots?" she asked, and Lyle made a soft sighing sound.
"Hell of a way to greet the brother you haven't seen in months," he said.
"Hello brother," Parker said sweetly, "Where's Broots?"
"He's here. We're working on some 'reward' advertisements for the internet,"
Lyle said smoothly. Miss Parker new that the advertisements would be
conspicuous enough for Laredii Industries to find them, and view it as another
sign that the Centre was becoming more and more desperate.
"Miss Parker?" Broots' voice came on the line. She surmised that Lyle was still
on the line - she could hear him breathing.
"Do you have anymore information on the island, Broots?" she asked, and there
was a brief rustling of paper.
"Yes, some blueprints from the original construction on the island - I'm not
sure how up to date they are, but I'm emailing them to your account," Broots
said.
"Parker, have you made contact with Jarod?" Lyle asked.
"I have. He's all right, but he's suffered some beatings. The staff don't
quite seem to know how to deal with him - they're still attempting to map out
his abilities," Miss Parker said, trapping the phone between her ear and her
shoulder as she pulled her laptop out of her briefcase.
"They haven't got him doing simulations, have they?" Broots asked, and she
laughed.
"Hardly. They wouldn't know where to begin - they planned his capture
perfectly, but now that they have him, they're not sure what to do with him."
"Do you know how you're going to get him out yet?" Lyle asked impatiently.
"Getting access to Jarod isn't the problem. It's getting him off the island I'm
worried about. Laredii has security on both the island and the mainland, so if
I did manage to get him off the island, they'd be waiting for me at the dock.
I'm beginning to think that I may need Centre involvement to provide a
distraction," Parker mused.
"Dad doesn't want-" Lyle began.
"I know what Daddy doesn't want," Miss Parker interrupted irritably, "But I
simply can't do this alone. Tell Daddy I'll call him with the details - and I
expect all the backup I need."
Parker ended the call, crossing her arms and letting out a soft hiss of
impatience. She didn't want this situation to end like the Specifics attack
seven years ago - with blood on her hands.
****
That afternoon, Parker descended into the pit with Dalton by her side.
Jarod was lying on the floor, and didn't rise when they dropped the ladder down,
nor when they approached him. Miss Parker assessed the bruises she could see on
his back, and the shallow rise and fall of his breathing.
"What happened?" she is asked Dalton, who sighed.
"He must have attempted escape again," the blonde said lightly.
Jarod wouldn't have attempted another escape, Parker knew, wouldn't have
risked injury when help was so near at hand. From the cruel, vindictive
expression on Dalton's face, she realised that Jarod's beating, both this time
around and perhaps in the past as well, was probably because the Pretender had
rejected her advances. And seeing him behave like a lovesick puppy to me
couldn't have helped either, Miss Parker mused.
"Help me roll him over," she said coldly.
Together they pushed and pulled Jarod onto his back, and Parker knelt over
him. One eye was swollen, and there was blood trickling from a cut on his lip.
She touched her hand to his forehead, and almost snatched it away again when she
realised how hot he was. Jarod cracked his eyes open at her touch, and she
could see they were clouded with pain.
"Can you get up?" Miss Parker asked. Jarod blinked slowly, and rolled his head
from side to side, no. She looked over her shoulder at Dalton, trying not to
let her fury seep into her voice, "He needs medical attention. Is there some
way to lift him out of here?"
Dalton looked impatient, "I suppose a stretcher and some ropes... is this
really necessary?"
"He has a fever, and we can't take the risk of internal bleeding. He may need a
hospital - tell your men to be a little more careful next time, Pretenders are
worth more than their annual salary."
Getting Jarod out of the pit wasn't an easy operation. Three men and
Jackson rigged up a stretcher with some ropes. Dalton and Parker steadied the
stretcher as best they could while the men pulled him up.
"The nurse's station doesn't have a bed, is there any other quarters we could
take him to?" Parker asked when he was on ground level. Dalton looked
uncomfortable, seeming to regret the idea of having Jarod beaten in the first
place.
"There is only the quarters on the ground floors..." she said hesitantly.
"That will have to do, we'll just have to post guards," Parker said decisively,
motioning for the men to continue on to the elevator. Dalton caught her arm
angrily.
"Ms Mark, you are overstepping your authority. Jarod is *my* project, and-"
"No, Miss Dalton, you are overstepping yours," Miss Parker interrupted, staring
the other woman down, "Jarod is Laredii's project, and I am here to protect
Laredii's interests. A beating on your orders in not what I consider to be in
Laredii's best interest, rather your personal vendetta. I am relieving you of
any influence over Jarod, and will be contacting the Director to inform him of
your misconduct. That will be all, Miss Dalton."
And with that, Parker left the gaping woman behind, accompanying Jarod and
the men into the elevator.
****
Jarod watched Miss Parker quietly conferring with Jackson from the corner
of the room, apparently oblivious to the security guys that wandered around her,
removing anything that could be used. Jarod's leg had been shackled to the bed,
and one guy was installing a series of new locks on the doors. Jarod wasn't
particularly concerned, and tilted his head to look out the window.
Rainforest. Sunlight. He realised what an incredibly long six months it
had been, and was struck once again by how much he missed his freedom. What he
wanted now was the taste of fresh air, the wind blowing in his face and perhaps
a nice long swim, but he settled for watching the colourful birds hang from the
trees instead.
When the last of the men had cleared out, Jarod watched Jackson lean in
for one more, furious whisper to Parker before stalking out of the room, and
surmised the two were probably arguing about Parker's dismissal of Dalton. The
door slammed, and Miss Parker turned to gaze at Jarod, flicking the key to the
door over her fingers with practised ease.
She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a wet
cloth and washbasin, perching on the edge of the bed and laying the cloth across
his forehead. Jarod watched her through his painfully swollen eye, raising his
hand and miming a pen. Parker frowned at him, taking out a pen. She held out
her hand, and Jarod scrawled a question onto her skin, 'SURVEILLANCE?'
Miss Parker nodded, rising and systematically checking all the rooms for
bugs. Jarod watched in admiration; she was methodical and thorough, a look of
concentration on her face as she checked everything. When she was finished, she
came back to sit beside him, shaking her head.
"All clear," she said, and Jarod smiled, lifting his hand and flipping the cloth
on his forehead over so that he got the fresh, cooler side. Miss Parker caught
his hand as he went to drop it again.
"You're moving that arm pretty well for a man who couldn't get off the floor an
hour ago," she said with a wry smile.
"The change of scenery must have done me good," he said, and she laughed.
"You asshole," she said, "I was about to have a panic attack, thinking I
couldn't get you out of here."
"A little exaggeration never went astray," Jarod said softly. Parker looked
around at Jarod's new and improved quarters, on the ground floor, no less.
"No, I guess not," she murmured. Miss Parker wet the cloth again, laying it
across Jarod's forehead, and then tilted his chin up slightly, frowning, "You've
got a cut just above your collarbone, I should probably dress that."
She disappeared into the bathroom again, and Jarod stretched, attempting
to get some of the kinks out of his body. He winced slightly at a pain in his
ribs. When Parker came back into the room, he had the sheet around his waist,
and was attempting to peer down his body at his ribs.
"What the hell are you doing now?" she asked irritably, sitting next to him and
pushing him down by the shoulder.
"My ribs hurt. Can you see if there's any bruising?" he asked.
Miss Parker nodded, tucking the blankets down to his hips. She leaned
over his body for a closer inspection, several locks of her silky hair falling
free and brushing his chest. Gently she probed the area with cool fingers, and
Jarod sucked in a breath when she touched several of the lower ribs where they
were closest to his breastbone.
"There's no bruising, yet it's obviously tender," Parker said in confusion.
"The cartilage must be strained, it'll probably heal up within a day or two,"
Jarod said mildly. He knew it wouldn't take long to heal, but it was certainly
going to make sleeping and moving around in the meantime hell.
Miss Parker pushed and prodded at the area for a few seconds longer, and
then turned her attention to the cut on his neck. She cleaned it gently with
the cloth first, put some antiseptic on it and then a small adhesive bandage.
With her leaning in so close to his face, Jarod couldn't help smell her perfume,
something soft, slightly spicy and delicate, suiting her perfectly. He could
detect just the slightest hint of seawater under her perfume, and instinctively
turned his head so his nose was close to her hair, inhaling deeply.
"That should do it. Remind me to change the bandage tomor-" Miss Parker sat up
abruptly, trailing off when she realised what he was doing. Jarod turned his
face away in embarrassment.
"Uh, thanks," he said, and Parker nodded, concentrating on soaking the cloth
again.
"I've been in contact with the Centre, and they've promised backup," she said,
not meeting his gaze, "You'll need a day or two to recover, and a day or two for
me to get all the preparations in order, but it shouldn't be long before we make
a move, so be ready. Can you scuba dive?"
Jarod was tempted to laugh at her brusque attitude, but nodded instead, "I
was an instructor once."
"Perfect," Parker said, gathering up the antiseptic and bandage wrappers and
rising, "I'll be back tomorrow. Don't do anything stupid."
A few minutes later she was gone, and Jarod relaxed against the soft
pillow sleepily. He turned his head again to watch the birds, smiling slightly.
Just a matter of time, he decided, and then he'd be free again.
****
That evening, Miss Parker called the Director of Laredii Industries from
her room. The conversation was brief but to the point; the Director approved of
her handling of Dalton, and would request the woman's immediate return to the St
Louis offices, and further investigation into her actions would be pending.
After that, Parker made a quick call to her father, outlining the situation with
Jarod and her intentions to get him out within five days.
"Good job, Angel," her father said approvingly, and Parker felt a warm sense of
pride in her chest.
"Daddy, I'm afraid the Centre is going to have to have a hand in this. I can't
take Jarod back to the mainland, as Laredii operatives would be waiting for us,
I'm going to have to take him out by sea. Can we arrange a meeting point on the
reef?" Miss Parker asked. There was a long silence as her father mulled over
her question.
"I'll send some people into Fiji, Angel, and see what I can do. We've managed
to get a few men into Australia so far, after you get Jarod out, I think we'd
like to have Laredii Island shut down for good. I'll have that techie of yours
send you the details. How is Jarod reacting to your presence there?"
"He's been good about it, I think he wants us to get him out as much as we want
him out. He's done nothing that could reveal my true identity, and is
cooperating fully," Miss Parker said smoothly. There was a soft sound of
approval.
"Another reason you were perfect for the job, Angel. Get him out soon," her
father said, and ended the call.
Miss Parker made herself a drink and turned on some soft music, staring out the
window into the dark tropical forest. She was pleased by her father's promise
of support, but nevertheless felt troubled by the whole situation. Her father
was using her love for him and her compassion for Jarod shamelessly, placing her
into a very dangerous situation with no safety net. Sure, everything was roses
while she remained in a position of control, but should her true identity be
discovered, Parker had no doubt she was in for a slow and painful death.
Jarod was being his usual painful self, of course, but she had to admit
that some of his antics were... amusing, considering the circumstances.
Considering that she wasn't the focus of his clever mind games for once. The
exaggeration of his injuries was a stroke of genius, Parker thought, and then
smiled. Of course it was genius - Jarod *was* a genius.
The events of the afternoon had surprised her. Miss Parker touched her
fingers to the glass, chewing her lip hesitantly. If she was honest with
herself, Parker had to admit she had taken a little longer than needed
'examining' Jarod's chest, trailing her fingers over his warm golden skin. And
when patching up the cut on his neck, she had raised her head to realise that
Jarod was leaning in, an expression of tender concentration on his face as he
inhaled deeply.
He'd been breathing in her scent.
"Ridiculous," Miss Parker scoffed to herself softly.
Angry at the direction of her thoughts, Parker threw down the last of her
drink in one quick gulp. It wouldn't pay to have those kind of thoughts about
Jarod, in fact it was downright dangerous. She had her career and her life to
think about, not to mention her own self-respect.
If her father was to be believed, Jarod had engineered the situation seven
years ago, in which she had killed a man in an attempt to save his life. A
test, a way to prove her worthiness as head of Security, and, as her father had
explained on more than one occasion, all Jarod's idea in the first place.
The problem with that line, though, was the fact that Jarod had never
mentioned it, not once in the four years he'd been out. Of course, until
recently, Miss Parker had assumed and hoped that Jarod was still unaware of the
identity of his saviour. Immediately after the incident he'd had very little
memory of the actual events, Sydney had reported. Yet if Jarod knew it was
Parker all along, as he had claimed, then why had he never raised the subject?
Surely she would have received a phone call as he made some noble attempt to
appease himself in her eyes?
Parker groaned softly, admitting to herself that she was no longer clear
on exactly what Jarod's involvement had been in the Specifics fiasco seven years
ago. She had held onto the idea of blaming Jarod for so long, she found it hard
to conceive any other possibility. It was true that she had since discovered
her father had lied to her on more than one occasion, and yet...
And yet, if Jarod was not to blame for the blood on her hands, then she
had no basis to hate him in the first place.
****
Jarod spent much of the next day bored. He kept up his act of being far
more hurt than he actually was, which meant laying in the bed and feigning
sleep, for Jackson spent a lot of time in the room, apparently writing up some
notes. Jarod wondered if the Australian doctor was suspicious of him, or merely
had nothing better to do.
In the evening Miss Parker arrived, conferring quietly with Jackson before
bringing Jarod his evening meal on a tray. He made a great show of struggling
to sit up, leaning feebly back on the pillows and panting with exertion.
Jackson watched with interest as Miss Parker settled the tray across his lap.
"You know Jarod, just because you are confined to a bed, doesn't mean your mind
isn't perfectly capable of working," Jackson said, sounding waspish. Parker,
who had her back to the doctor, frowned in brief annoyance, but said nothing.
"I don't know, Doc, your boys got me pretty good this time. Maybe I've got
brain damage," Jarod said weakly. He contemplated the tray in front of him;
there was a bowl of thick potato and leek soup, and a hot crusty roll. It was
the best food served to him in months, and yet Jackson's presence was enough to
turn his stomach.
Miss Parker leaned forward, lifting the dressing on Jarod's neck to check
the wound underneath. He gazed at the graceful curve of her neck for a moment,
and then turned his head in time to catch Jackson's knowing smirk. He felt
Parker's fingertips touch his collarbone lightly, and gave the Australian man a
challenging stare.
"I'm sure Ms Mark has ways of 'coercing' you," Jackson said slyly, his tone
implying that Jarod wouldn't need much persuading at all.
"This dressing needs changing," Parker said flatly, peeling the previous day's
bandage from the base of Jarod's neck. She disappeared into the bathroom, and
he lifted his spoon and dipped it into the soup.
"Don't you have anybody else to pester, Jackson?" Jarod muttered.
"Ms Mark was involved in some other security work today," Jackson said with a
shrug and a leer, "Usually she keeps me otherwise occupied - but I'll leave you
in her capable hands for now.
Miss Parker re-entered the room just as Jackson was leaving, and waited
until the door was closed and locked again before sweeping the room as she had
done the day before. When she found no bugs she perched on the edge of Jarod's
bed, while he eyed her warily.
"How far would you go to get me out of here, Miss Parker?" Jarod asked softly,
beginning to eat his soup. She frowned, taking a small bandage out of its
sterilized wrapper.
"What do you mean?" she asked. Jarod put his spoon down while she applied some
antiseptic cream to the cut on his throat.
"Jackson implied that you and he were..." Jarod trailed off.
"What?" Parker asked sharply.
"Would you sleep with him if it meant you'd get me out?" he asked bluntly. Miss
Parker straightened angrily.
"You over-estimate your value, Jarod," she said dangerously.
"But not your devotion to your father," he countered, "That is why you're doing
this, isn't it? Because Daddy crooked his finger, and you came a running?"
"You bastard!" Miss Parker hissed. Jarod raised his chin defiantly.
"Tell me the truth, Miss Parker. Are you, or are you not, sleeping with
Jackson?"
"And if I were?" she snapped.
"I'd tell you not to bother on my behalf, I'd rather not be responsible for you
whoring yourself," Jarod said, regretting it almost immediately. Parker's eyes
were glittering, and she threw the bandage down in disgust.
"Do your own damn dressing," she growled, standing up and marching off. Jarod
clenched his fist agitatedly.
"Wait!" he called, and Parker stopped, but didn't turn around. Jarod sighed
heavily, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I've just been going crazy cooped up
in here, and I lashed out at you when you don't deserve it."
Miss Parker turned around slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. "I am *not*
sleeping with scum like Jackson. Not even you are worth paying that price,
Jarod," she said angrily. He nodded.
"I know, I'm sorry," Jarod said softly. Grudgingly Parker came back to sit on
the bed, and he pressed the bandage back in her hand. A she applied it, he
tilted his chin up, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully, "Perhaps we should
declare a truce, just a temporary one, until we're out of here. I'd rather just
have one enemy at the moment. No arguing."
Miss Parker nodded, her long hair brushing across his shoulder, "Agreed.
And no bringing up the past, Jarod."
"Fine," he said.
Jarod still wanted to ask what she meant when she said she had blood on her
hands, but decided it could wait until later, until he was off the island, at
least. Miss Parker straightened up slightly, her fingers skimming down his
chest to his ribs, and he almost jumped as her fingers brushed his nipple. Her
fingers probed delicately at his lower ribs, and she seemed not to notice as
Jarod gazed at her with surprise.
"Is this still tender?" Miss Parker asked, and he decided she mustn't have
realised what she'd done.
"Yeah, a bit," Jarod said, picking up his spoon again, and eating with an
enthusiasm he didn't feel.
Her fingers were *cold*, Jarod thought, and wished she'd back off before he had
the kind of response to her proximity that he wouldn't be able to hide when she
took the tray that covered his lap. Parker prodded the area a bit more, as if
doubtful there wasn't a cracked rib in there somewhere. Finally she sat up,
chewing her lip in a distracted way.
"What was the security you were doing today?" Jarod asked, glad she had backed
off.
"The island's control room, just generally checking up on it. Normally
something Dalton would do," Parker said, shrugging, "Another reason to be glad
she's gone."
"She's left already?" he asked.
"Went back to the mainland today," she said with a malicious smile. Jarod
chuckled.
"I'm sure you were sorry to see her go," he said, and Parker gave a soft snort
of derision.
"Yeah, sure."
Parker laughed softly, and Jarod finished off the last of his soup and
bread, feeling content. She didn't laugh nearly enough, and never in his
presence, not since they were children. It was nice to see her face lit up like
that.
"I'd better go," Miss Parker said a short while later, picking up his tray.
Jarod smiled warmly.
"Goodnight, Parker," he called, watching her swaying hips until she had left the
room.
****
Out in the corridor, Parker leaned against the door briefly, ignoring the guard
who stood patiently beside her. She was *definitely* having problems keeping
her distance, and kept having to remind herself that it was just a job. And yet
she'd barely been able to keep her hands off him! So the man has a good body,
Miss Parker thought, doesn't mean you should pet him like a puppy! As she well
knew, this particular pup had a wicked bite.
Balancing the tray on one hand as she headed back to her own rooms, Parker
briefly touched her other hand to her chest, where the scar had once been. It
was a reminder of a time when she was caught off guard, and it had almost cost
Parker her life. A lesson she had learned twice over with Joe seven years ago,
a mistake she was not inclined to forget. Getting too close to Jarod was
dangerous.
****