Disclaimer: See Part One
Gardenia
Broots had been swiveling in his chair for quite sometime. The new system that he had designed had just been integrated and he was waiting for it to finish downloading. He was daydreaming as always in the darkness of his office space, occasionally scratching his balding head. He paused for a moment, pondering the thought of trying Rogaine. There was nothing more then he missed then a full head of hair. It was that and being married. No, Broots concluded. That would be as obvious as coming to work dressed in a bear suit. Not to mention all the uproarious laughter he'd have to endure. It would be an improvement at best, Broots thought to himself bitterly. At least they'd laugh, and not see right through him, just like they always did.
"Broots?" Miss Parker had just opened the door wide open, making her grand entrance as usual. Broots turned to look at her in all her glory. His face had turned a bright pink. He felt as he had been caught. It was also her that he had been daydreaming of. A spitfire dressed to kill in a snug and short black suit. Jesus. Broots couldn't help sucking in his breath. The woman had legs that went up to her neck. She intimidated him. He knew it and felt it with every fiber of his body. He was so attracted to her strength and her sheer bravado; it made his hairs stand on the back of his neck...
"Yoohoo? Broots?" Ms. Parker had leaned her trim form over his desk and was snapping her fingers in his face.
"I'm sorry Miss Parker. Just,"
"in la-la land?" Miss Parker asked, rolling her eyes.
"What do you want Miss Parker?" Broots was trying his best to compose himself but he couldn't help it. Having Miss Parker so close to his face embarrassed the hell out of him.
"Broots, I'm maybe leaving." Miss Parker said matter-of-factly.
"WHAT? What do you mean by maybe leaving?" Broots was dumbfounded.
"Like. As in leaving the centre, moron." Ms. Parker continued, slightly rolling her eyes.
"But I thought that since things had been going so well.." Broots broke off, unsure of what to say next.
"Have they?" Miss Parker sighed.
"Quite frankly, I'd much rather light a match and start over." Miss Parker replied, as she ran her fingers through her hair.
Broots nodded. He couldn't help but notice that Miss Parker was combing her hair with her fingers. Miss Parker never touched her hair or her face, at least, not in anyone's presence.
"Uh, when will you decide?" He asked meekly, after an awkward silence.
"Not until I find out where they have placed my baby brother." Miss Parker replied simply.
It had been a sore point for Miss Parker, not knowing where they had taken her brother. She didn't even know his name. He must have been three years old by now, that's all she knew. Since her father had died she had implored Raines and Lyle as to his whereabouts. That and letting her go were the two things that they refused to indulge her on.
"Have you told Sydney?" Broots' throat had already gone dry.
"No." Miss Parker sighed.
"But he knows what I'm doing."
With their plans settled, Miss Parker had strutted confidently out of the room. Broots however, was not so quick to recover. For years, Miss Parker's very existence had been tracking down and capturing Jarod, and now within just a year she shed this existence so very easily, it was as if she had been thinking about it all along. Sure, it hadn't been fun, the roach motel, being locked in a shipping container with her twin Lyle, yet it was these things that made her all the more determined. This wasn't like her. And with Miss Parker gone, what was he supposed to do?
***************************
He was on his way to another life. This was one however, was not a life that he conjured up. Jarod was done with being a pretender for the moment. Jarod had finally found his family. He had dreamed of this day more then anything else, since the day he knew he had parents. In his heart he knew that he would someday find them. That day was today. But the moment felt bittersweet. In his search for his parents, he had to finally turn his back on the two people he had cherished, despite the strange circumstances that they were in. As much as it broke his heart, Jarod felt that he had no choice. He disappeared before he even had a chance to regret his decision. He would finally be able to move on with his so-called life. He was finally free.
He felt the Gardenia, now completely withered in his coat pocket once more. He remembered the day when he and Sydney had been working on a simulation on the effects of distribution of nerve gas through flowers. He had secretly stolen a clean Gardenia, and had given it to Miss Parker. He remembered breathing in the heavenly scent of the bloom and smile it had brought to her face. Did she even begin to know how that very smile of hers brightened his world? He swore that she had smelled of that scent ever since. When they were trapped together in the keys, he smelled that scent once more and instantly knew that she was still the same girl. And that he was as much in love with her then as he had always been.
**************************
The day had yielded nothing on the weekly search for Jarod. This was mainly done to keep up appearances with the Triumvirate. Broots had dutifully reported it once six p.m. rolled by. Miss Parker managed her best to smile at Broots. She remembered the day she told Broots to leave the centre, it was the same day an attempt had been made on her father's life. He never took her advice. She vowed silently that she would take her own. She had mistaken the most important things in life for the finest ones. She looked around her office, her vision blurred by her tears. There was the fine furniture, the detailed sculptures, the Italian tiles, the etched glass and the beautiful French oil paintings. These were all the spoils of a wasted life. Were all these fancy things deafening her? It had been a year since she last heard a whisper of her inner sense. Mom. It had been a year since she had heard from her, heard her reassuring voice. She felt the outline of the teardrop-shaped ring on her finger. For the second time that day Miss Parker wiped tears away from her eyes. This weakness irritated her. She rose from the plush leather chair and left the comfort of her office. She could hear the sound of her heels clicking on the marble as she walked down the narrow hallway. She would miss that sound. But would she miss this life? As usual, she refused to be escorted by centre guards. She bid them a goodnight as she slid into the drivers seat, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. She drove home, much too fast as usual, along the narrow country roadways in deep thought. They would kill her if she left. That was part of the package. Part of the job description. But would they kill her if she stayed?
She had just reached her front door. All the windows were dark and she could hear her neighbor's dog barking. She knelt down to pluck a white gardenia from the bush that grew just outside the door. The bloom was already moist from the dew of dawn. She paused and closed her eyes, sighing a little. She opened her eyes, and the moment was ruined. The door was slightly ajar. Someone was in her home. Miss Parker frowned as she snapped into predatory mode. She removed her gun from her holster and with her knees slightly bent; she carefully entered her home...........
TO BE CONTINUED
Gardenia
Broots had been swiveling in his chair for quite sometime. The new system that he had designed had just been integrated and he was waiting for it to finish downloading. He was daydreaming as always in the darkness of his office space, occasionally scratching his balding head. He paused for a moment, pondering the thought of trying Rogaine. There was nothing more then he missed then a full head of hair. It was that and being married. No, Broots concluded. That would be as obvious as coming to work dressed in a bear suit. Not to mention all the uproarious laughter he'd have to endure. It would be an improvement at best, Broots thought to himself bitterly. At least they'd laugh, and not see right through him, just like they always did.
"Broots?" Miss Parker had just opened the door wide open, making her grand entrance as usual. Broots turned to look at her in all her glory. His face had turned a bright pink. He felt as he had been caught. It was also her that he had been daydreaming of. A spitfire dressed to kill in a snug and short black suit. Jesus. Broots couldn't help sucking in his breath. The woman had legs that went up to her neck. She intimidated him. He knew it and felt it with every fiber of his body. He was so attracted to her strength and her sheer bravado; it made his hairs stand on the back of his neck...
"Yoohoo? Broots?" Ms. Parker had leaned her trim form over his desk and was snapping her fingers in his face.
"I'm sorry Miss Parker. Just,"
"in la-la land?" Miss Parker asked, rolling her eyes.
"What do you want Miss Parker?" Broots was trying his best to compose himself but he couldn't help it. Having Miss Parker so close to his face embarrassed the hell out of him.
"Broots, I'm maybe leaving." Miss Parker said matter-of-factly.
"WHAT? What do you mean by maybe leaving?" Broots was dumbfounded.
"Like. As in leaving the centre, moron." Ms. Parker continued, slightly rolling her eyes.
"But I thought that since things had been going so well.." Broots broke off, unsure of what to say next.
"Have they?" Miss Parker sighed.
"Quite frankly, I'd much rather light a match and start over." Miss Parker replied, as she ran her fingers through her hair.
Broots nodded. He couldn't help but notice that Miss Parker was combing her hair with her fingers. Miss Parker never touched her hair or her face, at least, not in anyone's presence.
"Uh, when will you decide?" He asked meekly, after an awkward silence.
"Not until I find out where they have placed my baby brother." Miss Parker replied simply.
It had been a sore point for Miss Parker, not knowing where they had taken her brother. She didn't even know his name. He must have been three years old by now, that's all she knew. Since her father had died she had implored Raines and Lyle as to his whereabouts. That and letting her go were the two things that they refused to indulge her on.
"Have you told Sydney?" Broots' throat had already gone dry.
"No." Miss Parker sighed.
"But he knows what I'm doing."
With their plans settled, Miss Parker had strutted confidently out of the room. Broots however, was not so quick to recover. For years, Miss Parker's very existence had been tracking down and capturing Jarod, and now within just a year she shed this existence so very easily, it was as if she had been thinking about it all along. Sure, it hadn't been fun, the roach motel, being locked in a shipping container with her twin Lyle, yet it was these things that made her all the more determined. This wasn't like her. And with Miss Parker gone, what was he supposed to do?
***************************
He was on his way to another life. This was one however, was not a life that he conjured up. Jarod was done with being a pretender for the moment. Jarod had finally found his family. He had dreamed of this day more then anything else, since the day he knew he had parents. In his heart he knew that he would someday find them. That day was today. But the moment felt bittersweet. In his search for his parents, he had to finally turn his back on the two people he had cherished, despite the strange circumstances that they were in. As much as it broke his heart, Jarod felt that he had no choice. He disappeared before he even had a chance to regret his decision. He would finally be able to move on with his so-called life. He was finally free.
He felt the Gardenia, now completely withered in his coat pocket once more. He remembered the day when he and Sydney had been working on a simulation on the effects of distribution of nerve gas through flowers. He had secretly stolen a clean Gardenia, and had given it to Miss Parker. He remembered breathing in the heavenly scent of the bloom and smile it had brought to her face. Did she even begin to know how that very smile of hers brightened his world? He swore that she had smelled of that scent ever since. When they were trapped together in the keys, he smelled that scent once more and instantly knew that she was still the same girl. And that he was as much in love with her then as he had always been.
**************************
The day had yielded nothing on the weekly search for Jarod. This was mainly done to keep up appearances with the Triumvirate. Broots had dutifully reported it once six p.m. rolled by. Miss Parker managed her best to smile at Broots. She remembered the day she told Broots to leave the centre, it was the same day an attempt had been made on her father's life. He never took her advice. She vowed silently that she would take her own. She had mistaken the most important things in life for the finest ones. She looked around her office, her vision blurred by her tears. There was the fine furniture, the detailed sculptures, the Italian tiles, the etched glass and the beautiful French oil paintings. These were all the spoils of a wasted life. Were all these fancy things deafening her? It had been a year since she last heard a whisper of her inner sense. Mom. It had been a year since she had heard from her, heard her reassuring voice. She felt the outline of the teardrop-shaped ring on her finger. For the second time that day Miss Parker wiped tears away from her eyes. This weakness irritated her. She rose from the plush leather chair and left the comfort of her office. She could hear the sound of her heels clicking on the marble as she walked down the narrow hallway. She would miss that sound. But would she miss this life? As usual, she refused to be escorted by centre guards. She bid them a goodnight as she slid into the drivers seat, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. She drove home, much too fast as usual, along the narrow country roadways in deep thought. They would kill her if she left. That was part of the package. Part of the job description. But would they kill her if she stayed?
She had just reached her front door. All the windows were dark and she could hear her neighbor's dog barking. She knelt down to pluck a white gardenia from the bush that grew just outside the door. The bloom was already moist from the dew of dawn. She paused and closed her eyes, sighing a little. She opened her eyes, and the moment was ruined. The door was slightly ajar. Someone was in her home. Miss Parker frowned as she snapped into predatory mode. She removed her gun from her holster and with her knees slightly bent; she carefully entered her home...........
TO BE CONTINUED