TIME TO GO
Early the next morning after Donovan had taken care of the needs of his daughter, he grabbed the phone in the living room. He winced at the steady 'wah wah wah' in his ear. Yesterday, he must have knocked it off the hook. He reentered the bedroom and found the receiver lying on the floor. He had forgotten to pick it up. Groaning inwardly, he picked it up and placed it back on its cradle. He glanced over at Pax. She was sleeping deeply, seemingly dreaming, and he shook his head incredulously. He wasn't as angry with her as he should have been. What she had done was petty, uncouth, and downright vicious, but wasn't there also a modicum of truth to it? Hadn't he subconsciously made a choice? Why was he bullshitting himself and his ex-wife? Dear Jesus, as much as what Remy had done irritated him, she hadn't exactly deserved that yesterday, had she? Damn it. Why was he so fucking torn between two women? A thought entered his mind, one that had plagued him since he first realized he loved Jonella Paxton: fucking women, they will be the death of me. He went back into the living room. Despite the vague way he was listening to her yesterday, Donovan still remembered the name of the hotel. After a few phone calls, he had the number to the Gold Ring Hotel.
"Yes, hello," Remy said sleepily.
"Remy, it's Frank." On the other end of the line, he heard a sharp intake of breath. She seemed shocked to hear from him. He could almost see her, could almost imagine how close she was to hanging up on him. Perhaps he deserved it. He had been less than honest with her for weeks, toying with her almost. "Please don't hang up. I need to talk to you, I need to apologize for yesterday."
"You need to apologize? No, your girlfriend should have that job, Frank. Actually, I'm glad I called and heard that, it's become clearer and clearer to me that you've made your choice. She can't stay away and you're not helping that, are you? You take her in every time. That's all right. I can't say I'm not hurt, but I'm also not surprised, either. In a way, I'm glad this has happened. It has convinced me to work even harder to find a place. I told you I wouldn't ever take Anastasia away from you, but if I wind up leaving Chicago, I'm taking her with me, Frank."
He chuckled bitterly; the sound was humorless and filled with complete and utter ire. A few moments ago, he had felt guilty and ashamed. But right now, he would have paid Pax to wisecrack something. "You're not taking her away, but you're taking her with you? Isn't that the same thing? Don't hurt our daughter because you're angry with me. What is going on in this crazy triangle has nothing to do with her. Keeping her away from me is punishing her, don't you understand? Take your bitterness, hurt, and anger out on me, not her. Did you only leave her with me because you thought I'd come back to you? Was that your only reason? Were you playing games? Tell me, Remy, make me understand."
"I'm not arguing with you about this on the phone. I'll be in touch."
She hung up in his ear. He gritted his teeth angrily and was tempted to throw the phone across the room. She was playing him, using him, and he fucking didn't like that. He had no idea that Pax had been standing at the open bedroom door listening to the one-sided conversation. She saw the anger and anguish, had heard the hurt in his voice. Damn it. This shit was her fault. He would lose his child because of her, she couldn't let that happen. She knew the agony of losing a child and she didn't want him to experience the grief, the pain. He didn't deserve it. Pax ached to get her hands around the princess' throat. How fucking dare the dolt do this to him. Even if it was her fault, the bitch shouldn't have decided to fight unfairly. Children weren't items one could use as collateral. Didn't she fucking understand that? She stood stock-still and watched Donovan for a few minutes. His hand was grasping the phone so tightly that his knuckles were white. Goddamn. Look at the shit she had done to him, the pain she had caused. Miami was beckoning her even harder than ever before. Perhaps if she disappeared, the princess would come back to Chicago and stop using his daughter against him to get her way. She turned and went back into the bedroom, but not before Donovan saw her.
Gaining control of himself little by little, he put the phone down and reentered the bedroom. Pax had crawled back into bed and was trying desperately to feign sleep. She couldn't hide from him, but she would damn well try. Yesterday, she had annoyed him to no end, but he still made love to her, still held her through the night. She was crass, but couldn't really help it. He wondered how many times she had actually felt love in her life? She had nearly told him everything about her upbringing, but she never mentioned lovers, husbands, or whatever. Inside this gruff annoying as hell bitch lurked a vulnerable child. Although he was fully dressed, he climbed into bed behind her. When she felt his body touching hers, she made a small sound in her throat. He smiled a little and pulled her hair over to the side so he could place a soft kiss on her ear. He knew she'd been faking; it was simply a matter of time before she moved. She sighed as if saying 'I'm caught.'
"You heard that, didn't you," he asked, his voice falling down into her ear. "You can tell me, it's okay. I saw you briefly at the bedroom door."
"Yeah, I heard," she said. "I'm a pathetic loser bitch who doesn't know when to keep her fucking mouth shut. I'm sorry, Frankie, I'm fucking everything up for you. I should have gotten on that plane. I should have. I should have never told you how I felt. I should have left. I should have fucking left."
"You got one thing right. You don't know how to keep your mouth shut," he said with his little smile still on his lips. "You could have gotten on the plane, you could have left, but one or the other of us would have shown up sooner or later. One thing you need to know is that I missed you when you left. I missed you and didn't want to see you go, but I knew you had to leave. I'm glad you told me how you felt, because I would have eventually beaten it out of you anyway."
"In your dreams, you witless fuck," she said. "You couldn't whip me on your best day. Get off me so I can go back to sleep. Cut the mush, I'm getting nauseous."
Before he moved totally away, he gave her ass a loud smack. "I love you, too."
* * *
Pax stood in the kitchen contemplating whether or not she needed a third cup of coffee. If she didn't knock off the caffeine, she'd end up with an ulcer. From the living room, she could hear Frankie and his kid coming in from the hallway. They had been playing at the park and had just come back. She hadn't been around the kid much since she arrived. In fact, she had only seen the little girl in passing a couple of times. It was difficult for her looking at the child. It wasn't that she resembled her boy, but she was the same age as Lee when his yellow assed father allowed him to be run down like a dog in busy traffic. Since then, she hadn't had much to do with children. She kept an ugly attitude toward them and most kids sensed it and left her alone. She didn't want another little person to steal her heart. It was closed off, locked away, and gone. She was surprised she had it in her to love Frank. Shit. She had to find time to get out and away. She didn't want him losing his child. She wished she could tell him, but she couldn't. She had the words locked away inside her and nothing short of torture would bring them to the surface.
She held her breath when she heard the kitchen door swinging open, and she wound up dropping a spoon on the floor. Donovan entered carrying his squirming daughter. He set her on her feet and she stopped short of the kitchen table. She gazed up at the strange lady in front of the kitchen sink. She had never seen this woman before. In her short life, she knew few people: Daddy, Mommy, Auntie Ren, Grammy, and Grampy. This lady was new. She goggled up at the lady and noticed that she had a lot of hair. Pax turned around slowly and gazed down at the child. Unlike most children, she seemed more fascinated than terrified. Anastasia Donovan [pretentious name…five bucks says the princess named her] was a beautiful little girl. Although just two, she had lots of curly blonde hair that framed her little cherubic face. Her eyes were violet and sparkling. She definitely looked like her mother, but she didn't seem quite as timid. On the outside, she was Remy. Inside, she was all Donovan. As small as she was, she would be fairly easy to keep tabs on, but once she grew older, look out. She could see Frankie's smug stubbornness radiating from the child's eyes. What a perfect blend.
After her curiosity died down, Stasia turned away from the tall lady and flopped down on the floor. For a moment, she examined the spoon that Pax dropped. She picked it up and began popping it on the floor. An imaginative child, she could take a spoon and have her own little adventure. Donovan had watched the exchange almost as curiously as his daughter had stared up at Pax. There was something in her eyes, something that made him feel a bit edgy. He couldn't quite read it, but it looked like grief. Was that what it was? He wanted to explore that with her, find out why she had stared down at his daughter in such a way. He had never seen anything like that in her eyes. He leaned over and picked up Stasia. She was a little irritated that he had taken her away from her magical spoon. He carried her back into the living room.
Pax released a deep breath. She turned toward the sink and gripped the edge of it. Dear God. She was glad he had removed the kid from her presence. She didn't know how long she would have been able to look at her without thinking of Lee. She turned back around and noticed that the spoon was still lying on the floor. Sighing a little, she bent over and picked it up. She almost threw it into the sink, but hesitated. She listened to the little girl in the other room, seemingly destroying something from the sound of it. She entered the living room and noticed that Donovan was down in the floor with his daughter. She was apparently trying to take his cell phone from him. Stasia looked up when the strange lady entered the room and she noticed that she held her magical spoon.
Pax approached the child and bent down in front of her. "Want your spoon?"
She pulled her little body up to her feet clumsily and toddled over to the lady. "For me," she asked wondrously.
"Sure, if you want it," Pax said.
Stasia took the spoon from Pax's outstretched hand and uttered words that sounded vaguely like 'thank you.' She toddled back over to where her father lay, and she forgot all about Daddy's cell phone. Again, Donovan watched the exchange. It was almost painful. It seemed as if Pax had virtually forced herself to approach his daughter. As soon as Stasia carried her spoon away, Pax stood and went back toward the bedroom. She couldn't take it anymore. The brief exchange was like torture to her. She sat on the side of the bed and threw off her shoes. She caressed the bottom of her left foot. The night her son died, she had run out barefoot into the traffic. She had stepped on a shard of glass and it sliced her foot open. She had fucking bled all over the place. Of course, she hadn't bled nearly as much as… Uh uh. Stop it, Pax, stop it right now. Today, her foot was aching miserably, and the only way to get rid of the pain was to massage it. On days like these, she often wished she had kept at least one picture of her son, but she hadn't been mentally able to do that, and she wasn't certain she could handle it today. God. If she could just get her hands around Keith's fucking throat, she would make the bastard pay. He still roamed free, the coward who sacrificed his son's life to live. Fucking bastard. If I knew where you were, I'd hunt you down like a fucking dog.
* * *
With trepidation and a bit of iciness, Renata agreed to keep an eye on Stasia so that Donovan could check in at work. From the look on his ex-sister in-law's face, she must have been talking to Remy. However, it wouldn't have bothered Donovan one bit if Renata refused, but she didn't. Despite it all, she loved her niece. He arrived at the nest later that afternoon and felt grateful not to see anything going. Most of the work being done was on pending cases. After finishing off the vice president's insanity, things had slowed down a bit. He could sense the eyes of his agents on him, but he didn't acknowledge. They were full of questions. He had been missing for a day and a half, an extreme rarity for him. They could see he was distracted, and he was. He hadn't felt comfortable leaving Pax alone. He was still worried that she would run off for whatever reason she felt relevant. He'd tried talking to her earlier, but she wouldn't budge. She simply sat on the side of the bed, massaging her left foot. He hadn't noticed before, but she had a scar almost all the way across the arch of her foot. He'd wanted to ask about that, but figured she'd remain close mouthed about that, too. Goddamn it. The woman would talk to him.
Donovan looked up when Cody groaned. He was staring at his screen, apparently reading something that disturbed him. Usually, he avoided whatever Cody was doing, but this time, he was interested. Later, he would question his opinion about precognitive feelings. He stepped soundlessly behind Cody and glanced at the monitor. He was looking at a dark man with equally dark hair and black eyes. There was something about the coldness in his eyes that seemed vaguely familiar to Donovan. His name was Tore Raynor. It meant nothing to him.
"Who is that," Donovan asked suddenly.
Cody gagged on his gum. "Jesus, Boss, how the hell do you do that? Tore Raynor, pronounced as Torray for those listening. He's some bigwig politician who was transplanted from South America. He immigrated to the states about two years ago. Fellow isn't a very nice guy. He's been accused of a bunch of nasty shit, including extortion, treason, and arms dealing. I was hoping that he wouldn't be the next bad guy on our priority list. I'm sick of dealing with shady politicians. Can we ignore this one if it comes to us, Boss? Just once?"
Donovan shut out Cody's voice completely. There was something about this man, something he didn't like. He couldn't put a finger on it right away. After a moment, it hit him. Goddamn. He was staring at Keith Ahiga. He was the black-eyed man Pax was obsessed with killing before she joined the Death Angels. He didn't doubt that this man would become the team's next case. He thought of Pax. If she saw this, she would definitely flip. He shoved it away, shoved it back into the dark recesses of his mind. If Pax knew they would have to work with this man, she would try to throw herself in the mix. What the hell was her connection with him? Why did she hate him so? There had to be something.
"Cody," Donovan began.
He sighed. "Don't say it. Already on it. But you're jumping the gun a little, aren't you?"
Donovan shook his head. "I don't think so. He'll eventually be ours, I'm sure of it."
Twenty minutes later, Cody said, "What I have isn't much. We need CIA clearance to get the rest. Seems he took your route, Boss."
He shook his head and ran his hand thoughtfully over his mouth. "I have the clearance. If I don't, I can get it. They owe me."
After an hour, Cody had tons of stuff pulled up. "Tore Raynor, a.k.a, Keith Ahiga, Norwegian immigrant, half Sioux Indian, became an operative fifteen years ago. He was inducted straight out of college for his expertise with small machines and weaponry. The man likes to build bombs. How interesting. Oh, and what a bad boy he is. He was a double agent, working both sides of the fence. He and his partner were stationed mostly in the Middle East, but had stints in other areas. He fled after working out a deal with his Mid Eastern buddies on trade secrets and chemical weapons. He liked building those as well."
"Partner," Donovan asked, "Anything on him?"
He tapped a few keys on his keyboard. "Hang on, we'll see." When the name popped up, both Cody and Donovan were surprised. "Oh," Cody said. "Looks like a her, Boss. Your friend, Jonella Paxton. That woman gets around, doesn't she? Shows here that she was suspected of aiding Ahiga, but they couldn't prove it. Anyway, seems that Ahiga calls Miami home now."
"Shit," Donovan growled. "Thank you," he said, "I'll be back."
Donovan cursed mid-afternoon traffic as he made his way back toward his apartment building. That was it. Pax had some kind of connection to the man she so desperately wanted to kill. Somehow, he didn't think it had anything to do with his status as a double agent. She had been one of sorts, and she was no hypocrite. There was something else, something more, and he intended to get the information from her one way or another. Once he made it up to his apartment, he had a feeling that she had fled. He was hoping it was a false premonition, but he knew it, he knew it as surely as he knew his own name. He unlocked the front door. The inside of the apartment was silent. Knowing that she was gone, he still held onto the hope that she was still here.
"Jonella," he called. Nothing. Goddamn her. "Pax?" Still nothing. "Pax if you're here, come out now."
He moved into the bedroom and noticed that her suitcase was gone. There was no note, no letter, nothing. What the fuck did she think she was doing? He knew where she had gone. Miami. She had gone to Miami. At first, he had the 'fuck it' attitude. He didn't care. Let her go. Fucking irritating woman. However, he changed his mind after about fifteen seconds. He would go to Miami, follow her there, and find out what the hell was going on. He was afraid that she had somehow found out about Ahiga and had gone after him.
* * *
Jonella Paxton knew nothing of Keith Ahiga's new residence. She had decided to go to Miami for other reasons, primarily to give Donovan his life back. She didn't think he'd ever reunite with his princess, but he needed to be with his kid, and the bitch wouldn't let that happen as long as she was sharing Frankie's bed. She couldn't imagine how pissed off Frankie would be once he saw her gone, but in the long run, he would thank her, especially as he kissed his child goodnight.
By the time Donovan made it to the airport, Pax's plane had been in the air for an hour. He stood contemplating his next move. He would go after her, but it wouldn't be easy finding her. However, that had never stopped him before. He had plans to make, a flight to arrange, and needed to call his parents, who also called Miami home.
