BARING HER SOUL

As soon as Donovan walked Pax into the little living room of the safe house, he waited patiently while she cleaned up.  She came out of the bathroom about thirty minutes later, donning only a tee shirt.  Donovan had never seen her look so young or vulnerable before.  She moved toward her vodka bottle, but Donovan snatched it up before she could lay her hands on it.  Ruthlessly, he took the bottle to the back door and tossed it outside.  The shattering of the bottle didn't even make her flinch.  She stepped over to the couch and curled up on the corner of it.  Figuring she'd try to dodge him, he sat opposite her on the rickety coffee table.  He wouldn't budge until she told him everything.  He leaned forward on his knees and stared at her.  She felt his eyes on her and she wanted to shrink from them.  However, she promised she would talk and talk she would.

It was obvious she wouldn't start, so he made the first move.  "He called you something.  Jomfru [virgin].  What does that mean?  What language is that?"

"It's Norwegian.  It means virgin.  It's what he called me," she began.  She sat up and crossed her legs before her.  "When I came in to the agency, I was a stupid kid and he was the senior agent assigned to baby-sit me.  Sound familiar?  Anyway, he was older, more experienced, and so fucking hot, that I couldn't stand it.  Every night, he went on and on about his wife and kids, going so far as showing me a picture of them.  She was a lot like your princess, a blonde goddess.  I could never compete with that, so fuck it, right?  Besides, he was my partner.  I lusted from afar.  One night, the isolation got to him and he began to rant and rave.  One thing led to another…and…well…"

"He was your first," Donovan said gently.

She nodded.  "Yes, he was my first.  God, I was so fucking head over heels.  When our assignment ended, he came to me every now and then, getting his jollies, and I felt lower and lower each time he fucked me.  He was married, had children, and I was taking him away from that."

"Like you thought you were taking me away," he asked.

Once again, she nodded.  God.  She couldn't look at him.  "We kept it up, me never understanding what he saw in me when he had a goddess at home.  I just thought I was fucking lucky or something.  Anyway, he turned out to be a double agent, but I didn't find out about it immediately.  I didn't know until I discovered I was pregnant."  He wanted to speak, but she shook her head.  "No, Frank, please.  Let me do this.  I was pregnant and wondering how I was going to deal with it, what he would say, what he would tell his goddess, and so on.  When I came back to HQ, I was told that he had run off, had gone back to whatever country sent him.  All along he'd been playing me, playing the agency, and fucking me for information.  He wasn't married, there weren't any children.  It was bullshit.  My superiors immediately suspected me because I was his partner, and they had this perverted idea that we were fucking.  That was the only thing they got right.  I was interrogated for days until they were content.  After that, they did everything in their power to get rid of me, but I toughed it out.  I was four or five months pregnant before I finally made up my mind about the kid.  I was going to have it and give it up.  I didn't want to hate the kid because of its lousy ass father.  The birth was difficult and some freaky bleeding happened.  The hospital had to fix me to save my life.  I had a son, and I was intent on giving him up.  Some dumb ass nurse brought him to me, and when I saw him, I melted.  He was mine, all mine.  He was something that belonged only to me.  I called him Leathan or Lee, for short.  I didn't need anybody, didn't ask for help.  I took care of him and I loved him.  I have never loved any person that much in my life.  He was so damn beautiful, Frank; you wouldn't believe I could produce such a pretty kid.  He was dark but had my eyes.  He was sweet, loving, and gentle.  That little boy loved me so much, and I never understood why, but I was his goddess, I was.  When he was two, Keith tried to kidnap him.  He burst in on us while I had him in my lap, and he yanked him up by his arm.  Lee was no more than a rag doll to him.  No more than a son he could hold as a trophy.  He ran with my boy and I went after the bastard.  He was running through the traffic when a car came toward him.  Instead of sacrificing his life, he sacrificed Lee's.  He threw him in front of an oncoming car.  This little boy, this baby, who had done nothing more than be born, was taken out by a fucking car because his goddamn father was a coward."

With that said, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.  There was some relief at having the story out in the open, but it was also disturbing.  She had never told a single soul about this, as much as Donovan had never told anyone about the VP's betrayal.  It was frightening because if she had finally poured it out to him, it told her that Donovan meant more to her than she was letting on.  As upset as she was, she didn't notice when Donovan stood up before her.  He sat beside her on the small couch and tried to draw her to him, but she was resisting, fighting him away.  Persistent, he kept reaching out for her, touching her, whispering gentle commands.  Eventually, she allowed him to pull her over to his lap.  He cradled her close to his body, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest.  It was overwhelming, something he had never expected, however, he could understand the crazed way she demanded to be given the black-eyed man.  God, if he knew then what he knew now, he would have let her have him.  In fact, he would have held the gun on him as she beat him senseless.  After a long time, her tears finally dried, but she wouldn't stop moaning.  The pain was fresh and alive.  The memories were brutal and agonizing.  He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom.  He laid her gently onto her bed and climbed in beside her.

"Jonella," he whispered.  "Your son wasn't the only one who thinks of you as a goddess.  I love you."

She began crying again and he tightened his hold on her.  "That's bullshit, Donovan."

"No, never."

"Will you stay," she whispered.

"I'll stay."

*  *  *

Although it would take a few more hours for Pax to tell Donovan why she had chosen South Valley as the hangout spot for their evening out, one of its co-owners lay back in bed more than disgusted.  Had he ever expected to see Donovan and the jomfru at the club?  When he first saw her, he was quite amused, because he felt fairly safe with just her around.  However, with Donovan in the mix, he was in deep trouble.  He didn't understand what Donovan and she were doing together anyway.  He had tried to keep tabs on the jomfru through the years, because he didn't trust her.  Some day soon, she would hunt him down and try to take him out.  It was in her blood to do so.  He'd heard she was an assassin, and the thought made his blood run cold.  He glanced over at his wife who slept soundly beside him.  He hadn't mentioned the horrible evening to her yet.  He mostly kept her out of his business.  When koner [wives] knew too much, some of them could become scared and run to the authorities.  He didn't want that to happen to his beautiful Ingrid.  She had bore him three beautiful children, all sons, and their fourth was on the way.  It would be a tragedy to eliminate his gravid kone [pregnant wife].  He settled in bed again.  He would have to stop the jomfru and Donovan before they stopped him.  It shouldn't be difficult to track them down.  Miami was a large city, but he knew people who would be more than willing to help him out.

*  *  *

When Pax awoke the next morning, the bed was deserted.  She figured that Donovan had gotten tired of wringing out his shirt and had gone back to his parents' house.  She actually couldn't blame him.  She had never done shit like that before, not around Frankie.  She stumbled into the bathroom and washed her face.  She looked like hammered dogshit.  Her face was puffy and her eyes red.  Utterly and completely ugly, that's what she was.  She came back out into the bedroom and the wonderful aroma of coffee wafted into the room.  He hadn't left at all.  He'd stayed to make coffee.  Oh gawd.  She just might have to pay him back up close and personal for that one.  She entered the small kitchen and noticed that he had just set up the coffee maker and was turning to leave the room.  He was barefoot with his shirt unbuttoned and untucked.  The dark skin of his chest was fully exposed to her.  Damn it.  Why did he have to look this fucking good in the morning?  It appeared that he had showered and put yesterday's clothes back on.  He said nothing to her.  Instead, he stood and gazed at her, obviously waiting for her to make the first move.  He knew everything about her now; every deep dark secret, and it startled the fuck out of her that he was still hanging around.  Of course, his being in prison for treasonous acts was pretty big shit, too.  She knew that the next thing they discussed would probably cause an enormous fight, but she didn't give a fuck.  She wanted to kill Keith Ahiga, wanted to see him squirm and suffer.  Donovan would want to take a more legitimate route, of course, but she didn't give a shit.

For a moment, though, neither of them had the desire to fight.  They'd wait.  He didn't move as she approached the coffee maker, waiting impatiently for it to brew.  God.  Why couldn't the damn thing go any faster?  While she waited, she heard Donovan approaching.  After a moment, she felt his hands resting against each side of her waist.  She sighed a little and felt her body leaning into him, seeking his heat, his comfort.  When he first began displaying this mushy shit, she didn't like it.  However, as time moved on, she was beginning to like it a little, but she wasn't a total pushover yet.  He stepped back a little when he felt her move.  She turned around and placed a gentle kiss on his chest.  He cupped her face and directed it toward his.  He kissed her softly and then allowed his lips to move to the side of her throat.  She plunged her hands into his short hair and let him have his way with her.  All the while, she listened for the coffee maker to finish.  She'd let him make love to her all day, but damn it, she needed a cup of coffee first.

He drew away and gazed down at her.  "Are you okay," he asked

She nodded.  "I'm fine.  I just need caffeine."

Donovan stepped back and leaned against the table.  He watched as she dug a cup out of the cabinet.  She poured herself a steaming mug and sipped it.  Goddamn.  He'd make some woman a fucking good husband some day.  When she finished, she set the cup aside.  She was going to try to cut it down to one cup a day.  No more.  But goddamn it, he knew how to make coffee.  If she hung around him for very long, that resolution would fly out the fucking window.  It was funny how they hadn't mentioned when he would leave.  She turned toward Donovan and saw that he was still waiting for her.  A night of confession would turn into a day of arguing.  She could feel it bubbling up, waiting to explode.  Quietly, she approached him, and bumped her hip into his, knocking him off center.  He watched amusedly as she boosted herself onto the table.  This table had been good to them, oh yes it had, but she didn't know if she could ever take a meal on it.  He turned toward her, resting his hand comfortably on her knee, moving it no further than that.

"Why did you pick that particular club last night?  Did you know he would be there?"

She shook her head.  "No, I didn't.  That was a complete surprise.  I sure as shit didn't choose it for the entertainment."

He chuckled.  "No, I wouldn't think so.  I wonder if that woman is in the hospital.  What was that you said?  I'm your man?"

"I told you I was possessive," she said with a smile.  "We're getting off track here, Frankie.  I chose that place, because it's the kind of joint he would go to, you know?  It's his style.  He liked wild shit like that.  I dressed like I did to appear different.  If he were there, I didn't want him to immediately know who I was.  You didn't even recognize me, not right away.  If I'd found him there, I would have followed him, and took him out.  He has to pay for what he did, and he's been walking around a free man far too long."

"Jonella, you can't do that.  You can't go out on a wild tangent and take this into your own hands.  Regardless of his guilt, right now, there's nothing tying him to any misdeed.  Did anyone see him the night he kidnapped your child?"  She shook her head.  He continued, "Do you understand what I'm saying?  What he did to you was horrible and I'd fucking kill him for you myself if I could get away with it, but I can't.  He nearly shot you down last night.  Is that what you want?  All this time, is that why your goal was to die?  You've been hurt beyond all reason, I cannot even imagine what you've gone through, but I know it has killed something inside you, something that you need to live and love.  Do you understand?"

She nodded.  "I understand, but I have to say this.  You have a daughter, Frankie, and I know you're crazy about her.  If this had happened to you, what would you do?"  He didn't immediately answer her, but she could see it in his eyes.  "You'd hunt him down until you took him out, wouldn't you?  I know you would.  Don't ask me not to pursue this, because I owe it to my son.  I owe him.  I'll never have another child.  He is and was the only one.  There are no second chances for me."

He sighed deeply.  "Would you at least wait until we're on him?  If Cody had the information before I left, it's only a matter of time.  If you go out like you are now, I can't protect you.  I don't want to see your face show up in my inbox, and that's exactly what would happen.  This man is wealthy, a politician, and he has ties everywhere.  You would go down and go down hard.  I don't want to be forced to hunt you down.  Please wait before you react."

Could she do it?  Could she really do it?  When she had seen the man last night, she had felt a red haze creeping across her eyes, engulfing her mind.  If she had caught him, she would have killed him without a thought, without an ounce of guilt entering her mind.  He hadn't shown any empathy toward his own son, so why would she show him any?  She wouldn't.  She didn't know if she could make such a promise.  He wouldn't wait if it were Stasia.  She knew this.  How did he expect her to?  He didn't understand.  He just fucking didn't understand.

"Jonella?"

She looked at him.  "I can't make any promises, Frankie.  If he comes near me, he's mine.  I won't go out scouting for him, but if he crosses my path, I'll fucking throw him in traffic.  If you must hunt me down, you must.  You know me, you know everything about me now, so it shouldn't be a hard task."

"You're mine, Jonella.  It's not a possessive thing or a sexual thing.  It's the plain, honest truth.  You're mine and I won't let you out of my sight.  If I have to move in here, I will.  If you have to come with me, you will.  Make your choice.  You won't go out and handle this yourself, I won't let you.  For once in your stubborn ass life, you're going to let me help.  Wait for the case and we'll get him.  Tell me.  Here or there?"

"You don't fucking own me," she said through clenched teeth. 

His dark eyes blazed with a strange amber fire.  He seemed possessed.  "No, I don't, but I own your heart and you own mine.  Make your fucking choice or I'll make it for you."

"One big happy fucking family, eh Spankie," she bit out.

He shook his head.  "Pack up your shit, you're coming with me."

*  *  *

Donovan pulled the car into the driveway.  He noticed that his mother was out digging around in the garden.  His daughter was out with her, her head covered by a cap, and her arms glistened with sunscreen. 

"Frankie, I don't want to do this," she said.

"Tough shit.  It's done.  Put on the ring."

She stared down at the warped looking silver band he had picked up at a pawnshop on the way over.  "I fucking hate this."

He glanced over at her.  "Can you say that a dozen more times?  Get out of the fucking car and act like a fucking newlywed wife," he growled.

She jammed the ring on her finger and opened the passenger side door.  Donovan got out of the car and went back to the trunk.  She didn't have much, but most of the stuff she owned couldn't be worn around his folks.  Anneliese looked up when she heard the door slamming.  She shaded her eyes against the sunlight and saw that he had not come alone.  He had brought with him a tall leggy woman dressed in a plain white cotton dress.  Stasia looked up and squealed when she saw her father.  Anneliese noticed that the little girl recognized the woman with her son.  This must be the woman with whom he is involved.

Donovan set the suitcase down as he scooped his daughter up in his arms.  She goggled at Pax and uttered the word 'spoon.'  Anneliese approached the couple slowly and noticed that the woman was wearing a silver band on her left hand ring finger.  Interesting.  Her son had been out for an entire night and part of the day.  She tapped her chin thoughtfully.  What was going on here?

He leaned forward and kissed his mother's cheek.  "Sorry I was gone so long, but a few distractions held me at bay."

"Quite all right," she said.  "I wasn't worried."

Donovan glanced at Pax, begging her with his eyes to behave.  "Mom, I want you to meet my wife, Jonella," he said.