See part 1 ("Another Woman") for disclaimer.
Author's Note: Posting fan fiction seems like a frivilous thing to do at a time like this but then I figured why not. It might seem like an odd pronouncement coming from a cynical girl like me but, the way I figure it, if our species has any future on this planet then it's love that's going to save us. This goes out to Tiffany (aka "Aldysgal") and everyone else out there who cannot be in the arms of the one they love tonight. Be safe everyone. Peace.
The Friendship Cycle Five: Karma
By Ginger
*Yin and Yang…*
Parker sat in stony silence, her eyes hidden beneath a pair of dark glasses as she stared out the window at the passing scenery: fields, cows, fences, barns.
*Carrot and stick…*
Lyle might have just said something, she wasn't sure. Didn't matter, though; she was in no mood to engage in idle chit-chat with the repugnant nitwit sitting beside her.
*What goes around comes around…*
Seated across from her in the limo they'd picked up at the airport, Sydney remained quiet… quiet and watchful… and she couldn't shake the feeling that he somehow knew everything about her and Jarod's day together.
*There's a word for this…*
If he did know then he must have worked it out on his own. Parker hadn't told Sydney a thing and very much doubted that Jarod had either. Maybe Freud had picked up something in Jarod's tone of voice the last time they spoke - an underlying current of happiness? Or maybe he'd picked it up from her. God, she hoped not. She glanced away from the window and briefly into his unreadable eyes, recalling the early days of their working relationship when she'd been inclined to underestimate the man she'd known most of her life. She then stole a quick glimpse at the sweeper seated next to him, one of Lyle's. Thanks to a security breach to one of the Centre's main servers, Broots got to sit this one out; lucky him. Parker redirected her attention to the pastoral scenes flying by her window.
*Karma…what goes around comes around…karma.*
* * * *
For a woman who'd been kicking around as long as she had, and who had developed such a cynical view of sex so early in life, it was nothing short of miraculous. What started on the floor after he'd mischievously tackled her continued unabated for several minutes as they kissed and kissed and kissed until they were left bleary eyed and breathless, their lungs screaming from the lack of oxygen. He had rolled them over so she lay on top of him, and held her in a crushing embrace as they literally devoured each other, their tongues engaged in an exquisitely playful erotic duel. When they finally came up for air, Parker was graced with the sight of a thoroughly hot, flustered and desperate-looking pretender and was tempted to screw him within an inch of his life right there on the floor in the archway between the front hallway and den.
Something - she wasn't sure what - stopped her. Perhaps it was anxiety about the rapid pace at which her and Jarod's relationship was progressing or guilt over her role in precipitating the end of his and Zoe's relationship but, whatever it was, it compelled Parker to raise an eyebrow, nod in the direction of the forgotten grocery bags, and state,
"I hope there's an egg or two in there we can salvage. I want cookies."
Jarod blinked up at her for a few beats then smiled and nodded, stealing one more kiss before releasing her and allowing her to get up then quickly rising, picking up the grocery bags, and following her into the kitchen. They worked together companionably, occasionally exchanging a conspiratorial grin as they prepared the dough for oatmeal cookies with semi-sweet and white chocolate chips. Jarod had chosen this recipe because he loved the crunchy texture of the oatmeal and because, unlike the majority of oatmeal cookie recipes, it did not call for raisins. Parker was not a big fan of raisins.
Baking the cookies proved a bit more problematic since the timer on her oven was broken. It might have been broken for years for all she knew. Regardless, it meant that Jarod and Parker were compelled to remain nearby. He leaned back against a counter, crossing his arms at his chest and folding his legs at the ankle while she foisted herself into a seated position on the counter opposite him, grasping the edge with both hands and leaning forward slightly.
"Nothing to do but wait," he commented, his eyes searing into hers.
"Guess so," she replied, locked in his smoldering gaze.
Parker held her breath in anticipation as Jarod crossed the space between them in a couple swift steps. The next thing she knew their lips were locked, his hands winding around her body, caressing as she wound her legs around his waist. The back of her head was pressed firmly against the solid oak cabinet behind her but it didn't hurt, or if it did she was spared the discomfort, her neurotransmitters overburdened by the task of relaying other signals to her brain.
Neither of them noticed as the minutes ticked away and, therefore, neither had any idea that the cookies had been in the oven for twenty minutes instead of the requisite twelve. That is until the smoke alarm went off, invading their steamy reverie. Standing next to Jarod as they both stared down at the charred remains of the first batch of cookies, Parker sighed and remarked,
"It's time to call in forensics."
Chuckling he spun her into his arms and kissed her, his lips wandering from her mouth to her jaw to her earlobe and back to her mouth. She breathlessly chided that they'd never get the cookies baked, which Jarod took as a sort of challenge. Bearing a look of steely determination, he released her, slid the second batch into the oven, set the alarm on his wristwatch then took her firmly by the hand. Tugging her into the breakfast nook, he yanked one of the chairs from around the small wooden table, sat down, and pulled her onto his lap.
"You've just got to admire a man with top-notch problem solving skills," Parker purred as she leaned in to capture Jarod's bottom lip between her teeth.
The rest of the baking went without a hitch and turned out to be a lot more fun than she'd expected. Afterwards, they cleared away the baking supplies, leaving the cookies to cool on a rack (with Jarod swiping one whenever he passed by) while Parker prepared a simple but tasty pasta dish for dinner. She was far from hopeless in the kitchen, the fact that she didn't spend much time there being more attributable to a lack of will than a lack of ability.
At her request Jarod opened a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass then hovered closely behind her. Feeling his warm breath on the back of her neck, Parker smirked. She knew he was itching to grab her again and could sense him struggling to control himself because she had threatened egregious bodily harm should he do anything to "distract" her and make her ruin dinner after she'd made the supreme sacrifice of trudging through the supermarket to acquire the ingredients.
Jarod remained on his best behavior throughout the meal, teasing Parker with backhanded compliments about her cooking, things like: "I can't believe it: this is actually edible!" All the while he charmed her with those deadly brown eyes and that lethally crooked smile of his, both of which truly should be outlawed, she mused with a sigh. He positively oozed contentment and, loathe as she was to admit it because in her experience happiness generally preceded disaster, she was feeling pretty content herself.
Dessert, which consisted of coffee and, of course, cookies was served in the den, at which time it was decided that Jarod had been a good boy long enough. Sitting side by side, they leaned into each other to exchange sweet, lingering kisses between sips of coffee and mouthfuls of cookie. Parker detected a slight change in Jarod's demeanor; his kisses were less urgent, almost lazy. His face bore a relaxed, sleepy expression that rather reminded her of a milk-drunk bear cub. That's when it dawned on her; they had opened a second bottle of wine during dinner. She was feeling no pain herself and knew that Jarod didn't regularly imbibe and therefore wouldn't have developed much of a tolerance.
"You're buzzed," she teased, grinning.
"Hmmm?" he replied with a dopey, lopsided smile.
Parker set down her coffee cup and unburdened Jarod of his then, to his delight, climbed onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and proceeded to plant tender kisses all over his face: to his forehead, eyelids, the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth, jaw, cheeks, that absurdly appealing birthmark.
"What are you doing?" he whispered shyly, his face coloring slightly.
"What... do... you... think... I'm... doing?" she offered between kisses.
Pressing his forehead to hers he sighed and confessed, "I've never had a day like this before."
Pulling back, Parker raised an eyebrow and remarked, "So, baking cookies is a new experience for you, eh?"
He lowered his eyes and, with a diffident smile, muttered, "You know that's not what I mean."
She did know because days like this were rare and precious. Jarod had never felt the agonizing euphoria of first love, the delightful insanity of adolescent infatuation. He'd never experienced falling for a girl at summer camp, making her his whole world for a week, and sneaking off into the woods at every possible opportunity to make out. He'd entered the world as a man and Parker rightly assumed that the women he'd encountered had skipped the previews and headed straight for the main attraction (not that she could blame them).
It was yet another experience the Centre had robbed him of: that all-consuming yearning, like you were dying and the other person's lips held the only cure, that feeling that you could never get close enough but you had to try otherwise you might go crazy. And that's why, tempted as she was, Parker had not had her way with him. She wanted to be the one to bestow this gift to Jarod: to show him how wonderful it could be to get lost in the act of kissing just for the sake of kissing.
Not that it constituted any sort of sacrifice on her part. The way he moaned her name and chased her lips when she'd pull away for even an instant was her reward, as was that beautiful rumbling sound that emanated from deep within his chest as he crushed her to him and kissed her longingly, desperately, as though his very existence depended on it. Parker felt truly wanted, desired in a way that was so different from what she'd experienced in the cold, impersonal "hit and run" encounters that had comprised so much of her sex life. True to form, Jarod had returned her gift tenfold and it was perfect.
Perfect as they ended their day curled up on the couch, bodies pressed together and exchanging humid heat as they shared drugging, languid kisses. Hands skittered across heated flesh and sweat-dampened clothing, unhurried and tender as they explored and teased, issuing silent promises of things to come until, sleepy from dinner and wine and kissing, they drifted off together. It was so slow and sweet and perfect.
* * * *
Perfect, Parker thought sardonically as the limo pulled onto the long gravel driveway and the house came into view, a bright red convertible parked in front of it. And now it was time to pay the piper.
*Because what goes around comes around… karma.*
* * * *
Parker showed no fear. Neither did Zoe.
"If you don't mind our asking, why have you returned home?" Lyle inquired in a courteous tone, as though there were nothing at all bizarre about a former captor and captive exchanging common courtesies.
"I do mind, you sick bastard. It's none of your goddamned business," replied Zoe, her arms folded tightly at her chest as she sat rigid on her sofa. Parker had taken a seat in an armchair and Sydney stood behind her. Idiot that he was, Lyle continued to pace back and forth in front of Zoe. The sweeper and driver remained outside.
"We all agree that Mr. Lyle is, indeed, a sick bastard," Parker interjected coolly. Lyle scoffed. "And we truly regret his *unfortunate* behavior toward you last year. But we would very much appreciate it if you would answer our questions. The sooner you answer, the sooner we'll be out of your hair."
"Why should I answer any of your questions? Who are you people, anyway, to be asking me?"
"Miss..." Sydney cleared his throat and continued, "You may think that we mean to harm Jarod but let me assure you that his safety and well-being are of utmost concern to us."
"I'm sure," Zoe replied icily.
"I am afraid," Sydney continued, "there is a lot you do not understand about Jarod and..."
"Oh," Zoe interrupted, casting Parker a steely glare. "I think I understand everything just fine."
Parker didn't flinch but casually glanced up to see if Lyle had noticed. He hadn't appeared to as he stood with his hands on his hips, looking impatient and bored, like he very much wanted to be elsewhere. Join the club, she thought, then commented,
"She doesn't know anything. Jarod may be planning something, something big, and he sent her back here to keep her out of harm's way."
"I'm back here because it was time to come home... period."
"Trouble in paradise?" Lyle asked with a predatory grin.
"Again, none of your goddamned business," Zoe muttered.
"With all due respect, Zoe," Lyle responded in a voice dripping contempt. "Jarod *is* our business."
"Yeah, well, that's too bad because you'll never succeed." Looking directly into Parker's eyes, she warned, "Even if you catch him, you'll never be able to keep him."
Again, Parker didn't flinch but her stomach soured at Zoe's words, misery uncoiling to slither through her like a poisonous serpent. "I think we're through here," she announced then rose, perhaps a little too quickly, from her seat.
"It would appear so," Lyle concurred with an exasperated sigh.
They had made it as far as the porch when a voice called out, "Miss Parker, got a minute? I did remember something."
Setting her jaw, Parker responded, "Absolutely," then turned to reenter the house. When Lyle made a move to follow her, Sydney stepped into his path and said, "With all due respect, Mr. Lyle, might I suggest that Zoe may feel a bit more comfortable to speak freely when not in the company of the man who abducted her at gunpoint?"
Rolling his eyes Lyle complained, "I can't believe how bent out of shape everyone gets over a little, harmless kidnapping. You'd think we *tortured* her or something." Shaking his head, he turned and bounced cockily down the stairs.
* * * *
"Well," Parker stated in an even tone. "Here I am so say what you've got to say."
"You really are too much, you know that?" Zoe remarked bitterly. "It isn't bad enough that you stole his life, but you, all of you..." She nodded in the direction of Sydney, who remained on the porch waiting for Parker. "You had to take everything."
"I am acutely aware of what was done to Jarod," Parker stated matter-of-factly, resolved not to sound defensive.
"Don't you mean what *you've* done to him? All of you and yet he..." Zoe looked as though she might cry then and for the first time panic rose in Parker, compelling her to blurt,
"I think we've taken up enough of your time. You have my word that neither you nor your family will be harmed."
Shaking her head angrily, Zoe regained her composure and continued, "I may not be anyone special. I'm just a girl Jarod met along the way and had some laughs with. But can you imagine the look on his father's face when Jarod has a bad day or needs advice about something and gets on the telephone with someone else?" She again gestured contemptously at Sydney. "Well I *can* imagine it because I've seen it. And I know how he feels because I watched Jarod wander off a hundred times and flip open that stupid cell phone of his. It's like he's in another world - like he's got an invisible wall around him, shutting us out and letting you, the people who ruined his life, in."
Anger seethed in Parker, as much because of the truth of Zoe's words as anything. Forcing her voice to remain controlled, she observed, "You have no idea how complicated this is, all that Jarod's been through, or the role Sydney has played in his life."
"Maybe not," Zoe challenged. "But I do know one thing: someday you'll blow it - because people like you always do - and then you'll know what it's like to lose him. Now, if you don't mind, I'd very much appreciate it if you'd get the hell out of my house."
Parker sniffed, curling her lips into a sardonic smile as she nodded and, without another word, turned and exited the house. Pulling her sunglasses out of the pocket of her suit jacket, she slid them on and announced,
"C'mon Syd, let's blow this chicken shack." His response was a quick nod then he followed dutifully behind her down the steps and toward the car.
"Well?" Lyle inquired as they climbed into the limo.
"His family had a place in the Canadian Rockies. Alberta, she thinks. We'll send a team up there but they'll be long gone by now."
"She thinks?" Lyle said, shaking his head incredulously. "She *was* there, wasn't she? I am a little surprised at our lab rat. One would think that Mr. Sensitive would prefer the company of a woman with an I.Q. above that of a common house plant."
Parker met Sydney's eyes for an instant then, allowing a small smile to form, she muttered, "One would think."
Gazing out the window as the vehicle started to move, she looked forward not back as she enjoyed a moment, albeit fleeting, of feeling something akin to genuine affection for her brother.
# # # #
TBC… Phew, I'm glad that's over!
Author's Note: Posting fan fiction seems like a frivilous thing to do at a time like this but then I figured why not. It might seem like an odd pronouncement coming from a cynical girl like me but, the way I figure it, if our species has any future on this planet then it's love that's going to save us. This goes out to Tiffany (aka "Aldysgal") and everyone else out there who cannot be in the arms of the one they love tonight. Be safe everyone. Peace.
The Friendship Cycle Five: Karma
By Ginger
*Yin and Yang…*
Parker sat in stony silence, her eyes hidden beneath a pair of dark glasses as she stared out the window at the passing scenery: fields, cows, fences, barns.
*Carrot and stick…*
Lyle might have just said something, she wasn't sure. Didn't matter, though; she was in no mood to engage in idle chit-chat with the repugnant nitwit sitting beside her.
*What goes around comes around…*
Seated across from her in the limo they'd picked up at the airport, Sydney remained quiet… quiet and watchful… and she couldn't shake the feeling that he somehow knew everything about her and Jarod's day together.
*There's a word for this…*
If he did know then he must have worked it out on his own. Parker hadn't told Sydney a thing and very much doubted that Jarod had either. Maybe Freud had picked up something in Jarod's tone of voice the last time they spoke - an underlying current of happiness? Or maybe he'd picked it up from her. God, she hoped not. She glanced away from the window and briefly into his unreadable eyes, recalling the early days of their working relationship when she'd been inclined to underestimate the man she'd known most of her life. She then stole a quick glimpse at the sweeper seated next to him, one of Lyle's. Thanks to a security breach to one of the Centre's main servers, Broots got to sit this one out; lucky him. Parker redirected her attention to the pastoral scenes flying by her window.
*Karma…what goes around comes around…karma.*
* * * *
For a woman who'd been kicking around as long as she had, and who had developed such a cynical view of sex so early in life, it was nothing short of miraculous. What started on the floor after he'd mischievously tackled her continued unabated for several minutes as they kissed and kissed and kissed until they were left bleary eyed and breathless, their lungs screaming from the lack of oxygen. He had rolled them over so she lay on top of him, and held her in a crushing embrace as they literally devoured each other, their tongues engaged in an exquisitely playful erotic duel. When they finally came up for air, Parker was graced with the sight of a thoroughly hot, flustered and desperate-looking pretender and was tempted to screw him within an inch of his life right there on the floor in the archway between the front hallway and den.
Something - she wasn't sure what - stopped her. Perhaps it was anxiety about the rapid pace at which her and Jarod's relationship was progressing or guilt over her role in precipitating the end of his and Zoe's relationship but, whatever it was, it compelled Parker to raise an eyebrow, nod in the direction of the forgotten grocery bags, and state,
"I hope there's an egg or two in there we can salvage. I want cookies."
Jarod blinked up at her for a few beats then smiled and nodded, stealing one more kiss before releasing her and allowing her to get up then quickly rising, picking up the grocery bags, and following her into the kitchen. They worked together companionably, occasionally exchanging a conspiratorial grin as they prepared the dough for oatmeal cookies with semi-sweet and white chocolate chips. Jarod had chosen this recipe because he loved the crunchy texture of the oatmeal and because, unlike the majority of oatmeal cookie recipes, it did not call for raisins. Parker was not a big fan of raisins.
Baking the cookies proved a bit more problematic since the timer on her oven was broken. It might have been broken for years for all she knew. Regardless, it meant that Jarod and Parker were compelled to remain nearby. He leaned back against a counter, crossing his arms at his chest and folding his legs at the ankle while she foisted herself into a seated position on the counter opposite him, grasping the edge with both hands and leaning forward slightly.
"Nothing to do but wait," he commented, his eyes searing into hers.
"Guess so," she replied, locked in his smoldering gaze.
Parker held her breath in anticipation as Jarod crossed the space between them in a couple swift steps. The next thing she knew their lips were locked, his hands winding around her body, caressing as she wound her legs around his waist. The back of her head was pressed firmly against the solid oak cabinet behind her but it didn't hurt, or if it did she was spared the discomfort, her neurotransmitters overburdened by the task of relaying other signals to her brain.
Neither of them noticed as the minutes ticked away and, therefore, neither had any idea that the cookies had been in the oven for twenty minutes instead of the requisite twelve. That is until the smoke alarm went off, invading their steamy reverie. Standing next to Jarod as they both stared down at the charred remains of the first batch of cookies, Parker sighed and remarked,
"It's time to call in forensics."
Chuckling he spun her into his arms and kissed her, his lips wandering from her mouth to her jaw to her earlobe and back to her mouth. She breathlessly chided that they'd never get the cookies baked, which Jarod took as a sort of challenge. Bearing a look of steely determination, he released her, slid the second batch into the oven, set the alarm on his wristwatch then took her firmly by the hand. Tugging her into the breakfast nook, he yanked one of the chairs from around the small wooden table, sat down, and pulled her onto his lap.
"You've just got to admire a man with top-notch problem solving skills," Parker purred as she leaned in to capture Jarod's bottom lip between her teeth.
The rest of the baking went without a hitch and turned out to be a lot more fun than she'd expected. Afterwards, they cleared away the baking supplies, leaving the cookies to cool on a rack (with Jarod swiping one whenever he passed by) while Parker prepared a simple but tasty pasta dish for dinner. She was far from hopeless in the kitchen, the fact that she didn't spend much time there being more attributable to a lack of will than a lack of ability.
At her request Jarod opened a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass then hovered closely behind her. Feeling his warm breath on the back of her neck, Parker smirked. She knew he was itching to grab her again and could sense him struggling to control himself because she had threatened egregious bodily harm should he do anything to "distract" her and make her ruin dinner after she'd made the supreme sacrifice of trudging through the supermarket to acquire the ingredients.
Jarod remained on his best behavior throughout the meal, teasing Parker with backhanded compliments about her cooking, things like: "I can't believe it: this is actually edible!" All the while he charmed her with those deadly brown eyes and that lethally crooked smile of his, both of which truly should be outlawed, she mused with a sigh. He positively oozed contentment and, loathe as she was to admit it because in her experience happiness generally preceded disaster, she was feeling pretty content herself.
Dessert, which consisted of coffee and, of course, cookies was served in the den, at which time it was decided that Jarod had been a good boy long enough. Sitting side by side, they leaned into each other to exchange sweet, lingering kisses between sips of coffee and mouthfuls of cookie. Parker detected a slight change in Jarod's demeanor; his kisses were less urgent, almost lazy. His face bore a relaxed, sleepy expression that rather reminded her of a milk-drunk bear cub. That's when it dawned on her; they had opened a second bottle of wine during dinner. She was feeling no pain herself and knew that Jarod didn't regularly imbibe and therefore wouldn't have developed much of a tolerance.
"You're buzzed," she teased, grinning.
"Hmmm?" he replied with a dopey, lopsided smile.
Parker set down her coffee cup and unburdened Jarod of his then, to his delight, climbed onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and proceeded to plant tender kisses all over his face: to his forehead, eyelids, the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth, jaw, cheeks, that absurdly appealing birthmark.
"What are you doing?" he whispered shyly, his face coloring slightly.
"What... do... you... think... I'm... doing?" she offered between kisses.
Pressing his forehead to hers he sighed and confessed, "I've never had a day like this before."
Pulling back, Parker raised an eyebrow and remarked, "So, baking cookies is a new experience for you, eh?"
He lowered his eyes and, with a diffident smile, muttered, "You know that's not what I mean."
She did know because days like this were rare and precious. Jarod had never felt the agonizing euphoria of first love, the delightful insanity of adolescent infatuation. He'd never experienced falling for a girl at summer camp, making her his whole world for a week, and sneaking off into the woods at every possible opportunity to make out. He'd entered the world as a man and Parker rightly assumed that the women he'd encountered had skipped the previews and headed straight for the main attraction (not that she could blame them).
It was yet another experience the Centre had robbed him of: that all-consuming yearning, like you were dying and the other person's lips held the only cure, that feeling that you could never get close enough but you had to try otherwise you might go crazy. And that's why, tempted as she was, Parker had not had her way with him. She wanted to be the one to bestow this gift to Jarod: to show him how wonderful it could be to get lost in the act of kissing just for the sake of kissing.
Not that it constituted any sort of sacrifice on her part. The way he moaned her name and chased her lips when she'd pull away for even an instant was her reward, as was that beautiful rumbling sound that emanated from deep within his chest as he crushed her to him and kissed her longingly, desperately, as though his very existence depended on it. Parker felt truly wanted, desired in a way that was so different from what she'd experienced in the cold, impersonal "hit and run" encounters that had comprised so much of her sex life. True to form, Jarod had returned her gift tenfold and it was perfect.
Perfect as they ended their day curled up on the couch, bodies pressed together and exchanging humid heat as they shared drugging, languid kisses. Hands skittered across heated flesh and sweat-dampened clothing, unhurried and tender as they explored and teased, issuing silent promises of things to come until, sleepy from dinner and wine and kissing, they drifted off together. It was so slow and sweet and perfect.
* * * *
Perfect, Parker thought sardonically as the limo pulled onto the long gravel driveway and the house came into view, a bright red convertible parked in front of it. And now it was time to pay the piper.
*Because what goes around comes around… karma.*
* * * *
Parker showed no fear. Neither did Zoe.
"If you don't mind our asking, why have you returned home?" Lyle inquired in a courteous tone, as though there were nothing at all bizarre about a former captor and captive exchanging common courtesies.
"I do mind, you sick bastard. It's none of your goddamned business," replied Zoe, her arms folded tightly at her chest as she sat rigid on her sofa. Parker had taken a seat in an armchair and Sydney stood behind her. Idiot that he was, Lyle continued to pace back and forth in front of Zoe. The sweeper and driver remained outside.
"We all agree that Mr. Lyle is, indeed, a sick bastard," Parker interjected coolly. Lyle scoffed. "And we truly regret his *unfortunate* behavior toward you last year. But we would very much appreciate it if you would answer our questions. The sooner you answer, the sooner we'll be out of your hair."
"Why should I answer any of your questions? Who are you people, anyway, to be asking me?"
"Miss..." Sydney cleared his throat and continued, "You may think that we mean to harm Jarod but let me assure you that his safety and well-being are of utmost concern to us."
"I'm sure," Zoe replied icily.
"I am afraid," Sydney continued, "there is a lot you do not understand about Jarod and..."
"Oh," Zoe interrupted, casting Parker a steely glare. "I think I understand everything just fine."
Parker didn't flinch but casually glanced up to see if Lyle had noticed. He hadn't appeared to as he stood with his hands on his hips, looking impatient and bored, like he very much wanted to be elsewhere. Join the club, she thought, then commented,
"She doesn't know anything. Jarod may be planning something, something big, and he sent her back here to keep her out of harm's way."
"I'm back here because it was time to come home... period."
"Trouble in paradise?" Lyle asked with a predatory grin.
"Again, none of your goddamned business," Zoe muttered.
"With all due respect, Zoe," Lyle responded in a voice dripping contempt. "Jarod *is* our business."
"Yeah, well, that's too bad because you'll never succeed." Looking directly into Parker's eyes, she warned, "Even if you catch him, you'll never be able to keep him."
Again, Parker didn't flinch but her stomach soured at Zoe's words, misery uncoiling to slither through her like a poisonous serpent. "I think we're through here," she announced then rose, perhaps a little too quickly, from her seat.
"It would appear so," Lyle concurred with an exasperated sigh.
They had made it as far as the porch when a voice called out, "Miss Parker, got a minute? I did remember something."
Setting her jaw, Parker responded, "Absolutely," then turned to reenter the house. When Lyle made a move to follow her, Sydney stepped into his path and said, "With all due respect, Mr. Lyle, might I suggest that Zoe may feel a bit more comfortable to speak freely when not in the company of the man who abducted her at gunpoint?"
Rolling his eyes Lyle complained, "I can't believe how bent out of shape everyone gets over a little, harmless kidnapping. You'd think we *tortured* her or something." Shaking his head, he turned and bounced cockily down the stairs.
* * * *
"Well," Parker stated in an even tone. "Here I am so say what you've got to say."
"You really are too much, you know that?" Zoe remarked bitterly. "It isn't bad enough that you stole his life, but you, all of you..." She nodded in the direction of Sydney, who remained on the porch waiting for Parker. "You had to take everything."
"I am acutely aware of what was done to Jarod," Parker stated matter-of-factly, resolved not to sound defensive.
"Don't you mean what *you've* done to him? All of you and yet he..." Zoe looked as though she might cry then and for the first time panic rose in Parker, compelling her to blurt,
"I think we've taken up enough of your time. You have my word that neither you nor your family will be harmed."
Shaking her head angrily, Zoe regained her composure and continued, "I may not be anyone special. I'm just a girl Jarod met along the way and had some laughs with. But can you imagine the look on his father's face when Jarod has a bad day or needs advice about something and gets on the telephone with someone else?" She again gestured contemptously at Sydney. "Well I *can* imagine it because I've seen it. And I know how he feels because I watched Jarod wander off a hundred times and flip open that stupid cell phone of his. It's like he's in another world - like he's got an invisible wall around him, shutting us out and letting you, the people who ruined his life, in."
Anger seethed in Parker, as much because of the truth of Zoe's words as anything. Forcing her voice to remain controlled, she observed, "You have no idea how complicated this is, all that Jarod's been through, or the role Sydney has played in his life."
"Maybe not," Zoe challenged. "But I do know one thing: someday you'll blow it - because people like you always do - and then you'll know what it's like to lose him. Now, if you don't mind, I'd very much appreciate it if you'd get the hell out of my house."
Parker sniffed, curling her lips into a sardonic smile as she nodded and, without another word, turned and exited the house. Pulling her sunglasses out of the pocket of her suit jacket, she slid them on and announced,
"C'mon Syd, let's blow this chicken shack." His response was a quick nod then he followed dutifully behind her down the steps and toward the car.
"Well?" Lyle inquired as they climbed into the limo.
"His family had a place in the Canadian Rockies. Alberta, she thinks. We'll send a team up there but they'll be long gone by now."
"She thinks?" Lyle said, shaking his head incredulously. "She *was* there, wasn't she? I am a little surprised at our lab rat. One would think that Mr. Sensitive would prefer the company of a woman with an I.Q. above that of a common house plant."
Parker met Sydney's eyes for an instant then, allowing a small smile to form, she muttered, "One would think."
Gazing out the window as the vehicle started to move, she looked forward not back as she enjoyed a moment, albeit fleeting, of feeling something akin to genuine affection for her brother.
# # # #
TBC… Phew, I'm glad that's over!