A TOUGH CALL TO MAKE
Pax's face was buried in her pillow. She knew the sun was trying its damned best to peek through the window shades. The clock had begun screaming in her ear more than half an hour ago, but she had shut it down before she could hurl it across the room. She had decided right then and there that she wasn't getting out of bed today. Nope. She would give herself a good five minutes and then she'd call Graham and tell him to go without her today. She was 'sick.' Actually, she was just dog ass tired. How much sleep did she get last night? Ten or fifteen minutes? Today would be a sleep day. She'd play hooky and let her stupid partner pick up the slack. He wouldn't mind. He was Superman in training. When she felt movement beside her, she moaned softly in her pillow. She had almost forgotten that she hadn't slept alone. Slept? Did we sleep? I don't remember. Another sound left her as she felt Donovan's hand sliding up from her buttocks to the small of her back. The bastard knew exactly where to touch her. He knew she was awake, but he was giving her a chance to say something first. She rose up and stretched dramatically. She turned to her side, facing him. She kissed him gently, delicately almost. This was the Pax he had known in Miami. He drew away from her gentle kiss and gazed into her eyes. He leaned up just the slightest bit and caressed the side of her cheek.
He half-sighed/half-moaned. "Marry me?"
Pax moved away from him and sat up. Huffily, she ran her hands through her wild hair. "Frank, why did you have to get all stupid on me?"
He gawped at her. "I'm getting stupid on you? What do you mean? I love you and I want to marry you. Why is that stupid?"
She sighed. "It just is, Frank, it's dumb. We haven't been together in weeks; you come in here last night and take me to bed. You then expect me to accept a marriage proposal the day after?"
"You actually accepted it a long time ago," he said pointedly. "I'm sorry, Jonella. I don't want to isolate you, especially after last night. But I also don't want to walk out of here today as if nothing happened. I know you still love me; you've said and shown me as much. What is it? Can you tell me why you're afraid? I know there has to be something."
At that moment, she was tempted to tell him everything, to spill her guts until they were literally laying before him. She was afraid for various reasons, but one of the main ones centered on her 'mission.' The moment he found out, it would be over. He might love her deeply, but he wouldn't keep putting up with her lies. In fact, she was getting pretty damn tired of putting up with her lies, and she was telling the damn things. She bit it back. She couldn't tell him, couldn't blow their covers just yet. She hated this, hated it with a passion that burned hot enough to boil her blood. He wanted an answer; it was more than obvious in his eyes, and the tone of his voice. Yet, she couldn't say a word, couldn't utter a single syllable. She also couldn't look at him, not right away. Pax could feel the steady gaze of his eyes on her face. His hand was just inches away from hers. They had made love three or four times last night, had shared every emotion on the spectrum. A day later, she couldn't say a word to him. God, why did I let him make love to me? Why did I allow him to stay? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When she turned to gaze at him, he noticed a helpless look about her face. He hadn't seen it come across her face very often. Risking life and limb [perhaps his spleen as well], he reached out to her, touching her arm gently. His hand moved up to her neck and then progressed to her cheek. She didn't shove him away; instead, she covered his hand with her own. He had peeled away so many of her layers, but there were still so many more. A few moments ago, she had been set on strangling him, but now he had effectively softened her heart. Damn him. Damn him for doing this to me. She leaned toward him slowly and he gladly accepted her kiss. Within moments, it deepened. She plunged her hands into his hair to hold him close. He broke the kiss and gazed at her. She was lost in his gaze, his eyes. He wanted her again and she told him with her eyes that she wanted him just as much. He placed his hand on the side of her neck and kissed her yet again. She had never known a man who liked kissing as much as he. He did it so well, and of course, she didn't mind. No matter what the words or the riff, he always came back to her. He always came back.
Her back hit the bed with an almost audible poof. Partially leaning over her, he broke the kiss, and his mouth traveled downward. He placed gentle kisses and nipping bites along the arch of her throat. She responded by arching her body a little and plunging her hands into his hair. She often wondered why he kept it so brutally short all the time, but then she thought she had it figured out. Perhaps he didn't quite enjoy having the shit yanked out of it while he tortured one of his lovers. He was that good, but if she told him, the witless fuck [Ooops, Jonella slipped out again] would probably gloat and agree with her. Smug bastard. But God, did he ever deserve to be smug. Her hands slipped out of his hair as his body and mouth moved just a bit further down. Feeling helpless [God, he is the only man who has ever made me feel like this], she laid her arms on each side of her body as if surrendering. She closed her eyes a little as she felt his hands shoving the covers away from their bodies. A moment after that, he cupped one breast between his thumb and forefinger. She made a small noise in her throat when she felt his lips encircling the nipple. He drew it into his mouth and released it. As he watched it spring back, he fluttered his tongue over it and then did it again. He made the same moves on its twin. By that time, Pax was a quivering mass of human flesh.
Her entire body began to tingle and Donovan's lips made a progressive move downward. He stunned her when he hesitated at her navel. She was about to speak up and say something, but his movements soon stopped her. As if he were laying a big deep wet one on her mouth, his lips covered her navel for a brief moment before he dipped his tongue inside. Uh. Crazily enough, she felt tears just behind her eyes. Why did something so damn wonderful have to hurt so much? Silently, she lay back as his lips followed their trail lower still. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this anymore. She loved him so much, but didn't have the heart to lie to him. If this continued, she'd never want to leave his side, and once he discovered the truth, out the door she'd go. She didn't want to get so close to him. It had been hard enough letting him go in Miami, but after this? Her mind was screaming 'no' so loudly that it shook her body, but the words never made it to her mouth. She could only lay still, bite down on her lip, and cry like an idiot. He placed gentle kisses just inside each knee before rising on his between her parted thighs. He reached out for her and she met him without the slightest bit of hesitation. His hand went into her hair as he kissed her. He drew away after a moment and noticed the tears.
"What is it," he asked. "What?" She shook her head, completely unable to vocalize. He kissed her again, very gently. "We've come a long way," he whispered against her lips, "and I want you to continue to trust me."
Right then and there, he was playing his hand, laying every card he possessed out on the table. He was making an opening for her to confess, and she was damn well close to spilling it all. It was at the surface and would be so very easy to say, but she couldn't. She was completely torn and unsure where to turn. To whom did she owe the most loyalty? You owe Frank, you stupid bitch. "Don't ask me," she said, "please don't ask. If you do, I'll tell you everything, and I…I just can't."
She wanted to pull away at that moment. She felt it was the right thing to do. However, he wouldn't let her go. He was letting her inability to talk slide. Pax couldn't believe it and she stared at him incredulously, wondering what the hell was going on inside his mind. He kissed her again, lifting her body the slightest bit before plunging into her. Each time he touched or made love to her, a little part of her died inside. Each thrust was countered by her betrayal and lies.
Much later, Pax awoke to an empty bed. She rose up on one elbow and glanced at the clock. It was a bit past eleven. She groaned, lay back, and covered her eyes with her arm. Goddamn. She hoped he had gone. It had taken so much effort to keep her mouth closed. What the hell was she going to do? She wanted to take both Dicky and Graham and knock the shit out of them. Her phone rang suddenly, but she had no desire to sit up and answer it. The machine kicked on after the fifth ring. "J.E., where the hell are you," Graham's voice asked indignantly, "this is the fifth time I've called, and neither you nor Donovan is here." Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, you stupid little fuck. Graham wasn't dumb. He knew the score. He said it himself. The thing was, she had no idea where Donovan had gotten off to, and he surely wasn't here with her. After a moment, she sat up again and saw a note awaiting her on the pillow Donovan had borrowed overnight. Sighing, she picked it up and squinted down at it. I had to leave around eight to make arrangements to pick up my daughter, Donovan had written. I want you to come see me tonight. It's time for you to tell me what's really going on. If you don't, I'll send you both out the door. Once again, he had called her hand. What the hell would she do now? Hastily, Pax climbed out of bed and hit the shower.
Although Graham was her partner, Pax didn't feel the need to call him to the meeting with Dicky. If she had, the little fuck would have horned right in, and argued each of her points. Dicky would probably lie on Graham's side. She often wondered if the putrid little fuck was his son or something. If she spoke to Dicky one on one, perhaps she would have a chance. It had been long enough to let Donovan in on the big secret. Not only did she want to meet his demands, but she was also tired of lying to him. The lies were over and she'd gouge out her own eye before she let Donovan down again. It didn't matter if he never wanted to see her again; she had to get this out and over. While waiting for Dicky, Graham called about a dozen more times demanding what was going on. She eventually called him back and told him to fuck off and leave her alone. She was taking a sick day.
Dicky had barely gotten inside before Pax began to barrage him. "It's over, Dicky. I have to tell Donovan today. If you want me on this job, I'll get your blessing. I can't do this anymore. I can't lie anymore. Jesus jumping Christ on a fucking camel, Dicky, this is insane. I told you at the beginning that this was a fucking sorry ass idea, but you and your junior brownnoser pushed it ahead. Donovan can't fucking stand the damn CIA, and you know what? I don't fucking blame him. We've been toying with him and his team, and you believe he'll fall in line and help us out of the kindness of his heart? Goddamn, Dicky let me tell him."
He sighed and glanced at her. "Agent Paxton, I'm not sure telling him now is a great idea, and I need you on this. Graham is good and enthusiastic, but he's not you. Alone, he'll get his ass shot off. Jones is still clueless as to what's going on, and that's the way we need him to stay. I want to warn you, though. I think he knows about your thing with Donovan. I think he has seen him in your office a couple of times and his interest is piqued."
"Why is every fucking body so goddamn interested in my love life? I've never had a conscious before. I never cared before. He changed that and he fucking trusts me. If I don't tell him, he's going to cut us off and kick us out. One way or another, this mission ends tonight. You either let me tell Donovan right now, or what we've worked for the last month will all go down the fucking toilet." She stood and looked at him. "Just for the record, once this job is done, I'm out for good. Start the paperwork now. Make your decision, Dicky. Make it so I know what I need to do tonight."
* * *
Donovan stood behind the kitchen counter trying to put together a sensible dinner for his fussy daughter. She seemed dissatisfied with everything he set before her. He should have been annoyed, but when he gazed down at her in her highchair, she was grinning up at him adoringly. Any agitation he felt quickly flew out the window. When the doorbell rang, he glanced up and sighed. He honestly hoped it was Pax and also hoped that she was ready to give him the information he wanted. He grabbed a dishtowel and wiped his hands.
He looked at his daughter. "Don't move."
"Nope," she called happily in response.
As he moved toward the front door, he heard Stasia beating her spoon against the tabletop of the highchair. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she stayed put as he grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open. "Jonella, I'm glad you came," he said. Without another word, he stepped away from the door and allowed her to enter the room. He noted [with a smile] that she was wearing one of her short skirts and silk blouses. Tonight, she was herself.
"Dat," Stasia called from the kitchen. Curiously, she peered over her shoulder and fixed her violet eyes on the tall, tall lady. She waved her spoon toward her. "Spoon? Lady? Spoon?"
Pax shook her head incredulously. The kid was trying so hard to break through the ice. It was as if she sensed that Pax needed a boost of confidence. "Hi, Blondie," she said nonchalantly. She walked into the living room and seated herself on the couch. There wasn't much that had changed about the place, but she did notice a marked lack of portraits with his princess in them. Most of them were either of the kid alone or with him. She looked up at Donovan and noticed that he hadn't moved that far away from the door. He had donned blue jeans and a button-down shirt that wasn't tucked in. He looks so fucking hot. Goddamn, how can he do that all the fucking time? She couldn't look at him for long. "I'm thinking that our conversation should wait until after you put the kid to bed."
He nodded. "I agree. Come into the kitchen with me. Maybe you can help me convince my daughter that she needs to eat her peas," he said pointedly, glancing at his child.
"No peas," Stasia said. "Peas yucky."
Pax took a deep breath, stood, and followed Donovan into the kitchen. Stasia goggled up at the tall lady. Pax gazed down at the child and smiled a little. She would definitely look exactly like her mother when she grew up. "Don't you want your peas," Pax asked tentatively.
Stasia shook her head firmly. "No. No peas!"
Pax looked at Donovan with a wry smile. "I tried. I see where she gets her stubbornness."
She stayed in the kitchen when Donovan put his daughter to bed right around seven that evening. She nervously fiddled with a spoon. Pax had actually eaten Donovan's cooking and survived. She waited patiently, wondering how to approach this shit. When Donovan reentered the kitchen around thirty minutes later, he sat across from Pax and noticed that she had cleared the table. He gazed at her for a few moments and saw a troubled look on her face. Whatever her confession, it was serious shit. She wasn't troubled that often.
"Tell me, Jonella. I want to know the deal."
She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "No you don't, but I'll tell you anyway. I'm at the paper as part of a CIA operation, headed by Dicky. David Graham is my junior partner. The month I was away I was being trained. Dicky approached me about this right before I left Miami to come to Chicago. It was Dicky's idea for us to 'follow' you, because he wanted to get suspicion off us at the paper. He and Graham also thought it would be a nice way to get the team involved." She had no desire to go into the mission, because in a moment, she expected Donovan to pick her up and throw her out of the window. The haze had begun to creep across his vision.
Donovan could feel his pulse booming at his temples. He had known that this was a CIA thing. He had known it all along. Yet, it didn't stop the hurt or the anger. She had lied to him again. She had taken a job with the CIA instead of coming back to him. Trying to keep his anger at bay was difficult, but he had just gotten his child to sleep. He growled and pushed back from the table. He stood and leaned against the sink. "You were using me," he said as if realizing what was truly happening for the first time. "Goddamn it, Jonella. Instead of all the stupid play-acting, why didn't you just come to me," he asked through clenched teeth. "But fuck no. That's not your style, is it? You must twist things, play me, and fuck around. God. You wouldn't even tell me before you fucked me. Jesus Christ, you're some actress. I knew something wasn't right with you."
"First of all, it takes two people to fuck. It's not like I raped you. If you'll notice, I tried my damn best to stay away from you every way possible other than actually murdering your ass. Did you listen? No. You bulldozed, shoved, pushed, and beat your way in. How am I supposed to act? You're persistent and fucking stubborn, and yes, I love you. I trained for the mission instead of coming back because I had a piece of reality thrown right in my fucking face. I'm not cut out to be a wife and I'm not ready to have a husband. I'm not sure about your kid and how I could handle her. What else was there for me to do? Think about that, Frankie. Think about all the women you've ever had in your life, think about the woman you married, and tell me if you can see me in that position."
In a rush, he came toward the table and leaned toward her. "If I couldn't see it, I wouldn't have asked. This hang-up is yours, Jonella, not mine." He moved away quickly before the temptation to strangle her became too strong to ignore. He spun around to face her. "To be perfectly honest, I don't know who I'm more angry with, you or the fucking CIA for trying to use me again."
She sighed. "I didn't like it and I tried to stop it, but no one listened to me. I swear this was not my idea. It was something Graham and Dicky championed. I fought tooth and nail against it."
"You didn't fight very fucking hard, did you," he asked lowly, severely. "You played right along, even went so far as to lie to me twice when I asked. There's a clear pattern here, one that spans our entire relationship, from the moment I met you until tonight. Here is where it stops once and for all."
Pax nodded. She couldn't agree more. She expected this reaction and was prepared to leave. Her papers would be complete in a few days and she could return to the heat and warmth of Miami. She might even drop in on Frankie's parents and let them know how badly she had fucked up. She pushed away from the table and moved around it to make her way to the living room. Confused, Donovan watched her progress. Where did she think she was going? Before she reached the living room, he went after her.
Gently, he took hold of her arm and turned her to face him. "Jonella, where do you think you're going?"
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "I'm leaving, Frank. Don't you want me to go? You said it stops here once and for all."
"Jonella, I'm pissed nine ways to hell right now, but I love you, and I'm not letting you walk out on me again. What has to stop is the bullshit. That's all I ask of you. The rest of it will get resolved in time. I know only a little piece and tomorrow you will tell me the rest."
"Why not now?"
He drew her close enough so he could touch her face. "Now I intend to make love to you. We always make love after a fight. Don't tell me you have forgotten already?"
She was still stunned at his reaction. He should have tossed her right out the door. "You're one crazy bastard," she said.
He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "The craziest."
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To be continued…