I Know You Love Him
Chapter 9: Truth
There were shards of broken porcelain on a London coffee shop's floor. I remember this. Your hands were still shaking slightly as I gripped them in mine. Dark shapes moved in my peripheral vision, and my gaze darted to each corner of the room I saw the men appear, as if from nowhere, one by one, to silently overtake us. I pulled you from your seat and we ran. I hot- wired a car and drove 100 mph to the airport, just in time to catch a flight to Moscow. You understood what was happening, that we were in danger and had to move again, but you didn't seem to care. I could see it in your eyes when it wasn't on your lips, the phrase repeating over and over again: He's alive he's alive he's alive.
Had Jack Bristow seen your reaction to his ad in "The London Times" that day, I do not think he would be so wary of trusting your love for him, even with all the lies and deception that have passed between the two of you. But really, Irina, after a while, your elation got annoying. It was positively juvenile, the way you recounted your Internet chat with your husband. "Miss you." "Miss you too." Yes, yes, very sweet ... now excuse me while I vomit! But you did intrigue me. I still didn't know what it was about this man that could cause you, you of all women in the world, the indestructible Irina Derevko, to fall in love. That's part of the reason why I did what I did when I finally got the opportunity to meet him.
"I'm sure Sydney is alive."
"I wish I could be sure." Your voice already seemed hollowed out, as if making room for the grief you anticipated upon learning of her death.
"When did you become so fatalistic? If she's your daughter, she's alive. That's simply all there is to it!" I softened my voice as I continued. "I'll get her out. Hell, I'll even bring back her angst-ridden ex-boyfriend, free of charge." After reading your file on the young Mr. Vaughn, I was rather inclined to believe that my niece had not inherited your discerning taste in men. You nodded, your jaw clenching slightly; I knew you were displeased with him as well, if only for your daughter's sake.
"And I'll give Jack your love."
You gave me a steely-eyed look. I struggled to contain my amusement as I watched you attempt to mask your feelings.
"Fine, whatever you want. Kiss him for me or something." Concentrating too hard on trying to sound off-hand, you didn't realize what you actually said until it was too late.
"Katya –"
"Really?" I purred, thoroughly pleased with this turn in the
conversation. "Well, it would certainly be my pleasure."
You made a sound deep in your throat. "Katya, I am warning you –"
"Did you just growl at me, Rina? I must say that's not very
attractive. It's entirely unfeminine. Does Jack mind when you do
that?" Fast as lightning, I was already across the room with my hand
on the door when you aimed at me and threw the knife. I ducked nimbly,
and it sunk into the wood, as I exited laughing, calling back one last
taunt:
"Don't worry, dear sister, I'll do exactly as you ask!"
* * * * * * "Isn't that what family is for?" When the moment came, I hadn't planned to do it. And, really, Irina, given the fact that I'd had the opportunity to see him shirtless, you would have marveled at my initial restraint. I gave him a very light, chaste kiss, barely touching my lips to his own. "That was from Irina." What happened next was really all your fault.
As I looked up at him, I involuntarily recalled something you had said to me very long ago.
"You know, Katya, I think I understand why Cuvee didn't tap you for this assignment. Despite your – sufficient – looks, you just don't know how to hold a man's attention."
So when I gave your husband a genuine, passionate kiss, initially, the thought that was foremost in my mind was a simple Oh yeah? Well I'll show you!
Then things got a little tricky.
The kiss was pleasant enough; yes, I was beginning to see why you had grown so attached to him. Then his arms slipped around me, pressing lightly but insistently against the small of my back, as if he would draw me closer, and at a the same time, the kiss somehow deepened through no manipulation of my own. Uh-oh.
Wait a minute you, this is not how it's supposed to work, didn't Irina train you, you're supposed to be too shocked to react! You're enjoying this way too much, don't you have any loyalty, what about my sister?! Hmmm ... what about my sister anyway? Always so greedy ... never sharing any of her toys ...
Suddenly, more of your words entered my mind, again, completely unbidden:
"My husband. My daughter. My mission. Jack. Sydney ..."
It was this, more than any threat of violence you can come up with, that made me pull away.
Well, at least I had the satisfaction of seeing that shocked look on his face. I only hoped I wasn't wearing the same look myself "And who was that from?" he managed to ask, when he had recovered his voice. Many emotions played across his face, most of which I managed to identify. There was one, though, that I couldn't put a name to. Until now.
The poor dear man looked so confused. Good. I was in control again. I smirked as I patted his face lightly, thinking, now this is more like it! "Too many questions."
And I strolled off, leaving him to gape after me. No. Scratch that. It wasn't a stroll. It was a strut. Strut, I told myself, as I felt his bewildered eyes still on me. It was as if he was trying to burn a whole in the back of my head, in hopes that my motivations would tumble out. You are Ekaterina Derevko, the Black Sparrow, femme fatale extraordinaire. So maybe Irina's got a better haircut or something. So what? You're still just as good as her. You've still got it, woman. Strut.
Sometimes, you have to think these things. They cause you to laugh at yourself. And I have always been a firm believer in not taking myself too seriously.
And so, a few days later, just look at the thanks I get for saving the life of your only child! You, sitting on my chest, eyes blazing nostrils flaring, just daring me to breathe. Ingrate!
"DON'T. YOU. EVER. TOUCH. MY. HUSBAND. AGAIN!!" You screamed like a banshee as you tossed me across the room. I got in a few good hits, but I knew you could overpower me with the advantage of your insane rage. And it certainly didn't help to quell your anger when I burst out laughing in the middle of our fight. You had been able to maintain your composure for exactly 1.5 seconds after I told you about the kiss, and then you had exploded.
"He's MINE, do you understand that? No one is taking him from me, he's MINE! I won't lose him ever again!" Your voice cracked, and suddenly the situation was decidedly unfunny. Your hands were still balled up into to fists, but they shook, along with the rest of you. I still can't believe you were crying. Even it was just a few tears. To see you get that upset over a friendly little bout of sibling rivalry ... well, if I had ever had any doubts in regards to your feelings for Jack Bristow, they vanished in that instant.
"Irina," I whispered, looking up at your anguished features. "Even if it was possible ... I would never take him away from you. I may resent you at times, but I could never, ever hurt you so. I know you love him."
You opened your mouth to retort, and I raised a brow as I gave you my most piercing gaze, daring you to contradict what I had said. Your mouth snapped shut as you closed your eyes and shook your head helplessly. "I can't lose him, Katya. I just can't."
"Oh, you won't. Let me up, and I'll tell you why."
You grunted discontentedly, but eventually, you acquiesced. Oh goody, now I can breathe again! "I learned something from that kiss, Irina. I mean, besides the obvious, like the fact that you're husband is a great kisser and that he really needs to get lai – ow, don't pinch! You are so dead if that leaves a mark!" Hastily I continued. "I think he actually felt ... guilty." Your eyes widened. "For responding, even as minimally as he did. In fact, I think the only reason he responded at all was because it reminded him of you. You've got the poor man trapped, Irina. Even if he can't admit it to himself, he loves you too." You stared at me. "You're just ... trying to placate me so I won't beat up on you anymore, aren't you?" I shrugged and gave you a Cheshire-cat smile. "Whatever you want to tell yourself, Rina. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to get some first aid before I catch my flight back to Tai Pei." I stood up, helped you off the floor, and clasped you in a quick embrace before I walked out the door again. "Take care. I'll be in touch." And so I left you to contemplate my words, and to lick your wounds, physical and otherwise. The truth doesn't always take so very long, Irina. And it isn't always fair. You married a man under completely false pretenses and betrayed him in the worst ways possible. You left your daughter for him to raise alone. Despite this, there is still so much love between the three of you. More than anything else you have, it is this that I envy. And more than anything else you posses, it is this that I pledge to protect, because you are my sister. Through the years, you've kept me as safe as I've kept you. You have saved my life more times than I can count. I may not know what it is to be in love with a man. I may not know what it is to receive love from my own child. But I know this: of the few people in this world that I do love, you are the only one who actually loves me back.
Chapter 9: Truth
There were shards of broken porcelain on a London coffee shop's floor. I remember this. Your hands were still shaking slightly as I gripped them in mine. Dark shapes moved in my peripheral vision, and my gaze darted to each corner of the room I saw the men appear, as if from nowhere, one by one, to silently overtake us. I pulled you from your seat and we ran. I hot- wired a car and drove 100 mph to the airport, just in time to catch a flight to Moscow. You understood what was happening, that we were in danger and had to move again, but you didn't seem to care. I could see it in your eyes when it wasn't on your lips, the phrase repeating over and over again: He's alive he's alive he's alive.
Had Jack Bristow seen your reaction to his ad in "The London Times" that day, I do not think he would be so wary of trusting your love for him, even with all the lies and deception that have passed between the two of you. But really, Irina, after a while, your elation got annoying. It was positively juvenile, the way you recounted your Internet chat with your husband. "Miss you." "Miss you too." Yes, yes, very sweet ... now excuse me while I vomit! But you did intrigue me. I still didn't know what it was about this man that could cause you, you of all women in the world, the indestructible Irina Derevko, to fall in love. That's part of the reason why I did what I did when I finally got the opportunity to meet him.
"I'm sure Sydney is alive."
"I wish I could be sure." Your voice already seemed hollowed out, as if making room for the grief you anticipated upon learning of her death.
"When did you become so fatalistic? If she's your daughter, she's alive. That's simply all there is to it!" I softened my voice as I continued. "I'll get her out. Hell, I'll even bring back her angst-ridden ex-boyfriend, free of charge." After reading your file on the young Mr. Vaughn, I was rather inclined to believe that my niece had not inherited your discerning taste in men. You nodded, your jaw clenching slightly; I knew you were displeased with him as well, if only for your daughter's sake.
"And I'll give Jack your love."
You gave me a steely-eyed look. I struggled to contain my amusement as I watched you attempt to mask your feelings.
"Fine, whatever you want. Kiss him for me or something." Concentrating too hard on trying to sound off-hand, you didn't realize what you actually said until it was too late.
"Katya –"
"Really?" I purred, thoroughly pleased with this turn in the
conversation. "Well, it would certainly be my pleasure."
You made a sound deep in your throat. "Katya, I am warning you –"
"Did you just growl at me, Rina? I must say that's not very
attractive. It's entirely unfeminine. Does Jack mind when you do
that?" Fast as lightning, I was already across the room with my hand
on the door when you aimed at me and threw the knife. I ducked nimbly,
and it sunk into the wood, as I exited laughing, calling back one last
taunt:
"Don't worry, dear sister, I'll do exactly as you ask!"
* * * * * * "Isn't that what family is for?" When the moment came, I hadn't planned to do it. And, really, Irina, given the fact that I'd had the opportunity to see him shirtless, you would have marveled at my initial restraint. I gave him a very light, chaste kiss, barely touching my lips to his own. "That was from Irina." What happened next was really all your fault.
As I looked up at him, I involuntarily recalled something you had said to me very long ago.
"You know, Katya, I think I understand why Cuvee didn't tap you for this assignment. Despite your – sufficient – looks, you just don't know how to hold a man's attention."
So when I gave your husband a genuine, passionate kiss, initially, the thought that was foremost in my mind was a simple Oh yeah? Well I'll show you!
Then things got a little tricky.
The kiss was pleasant enough; yes, I was beginning to see why you had grown so attached to him. Then his arms slipped around me, pressing lightly but insistently against the small of my back, as if he would draw me closer, and at a the same time, the kiss somehow deepened through no manipulation of my own. Uh-oh.
Wait a minute you, this is not how it's supposed to work, didn't Irina train you, you're supposed to be too shocked to react! You're enjoying this way too much, don't you have any loyalty, what about my sister?! Hmmm ... what about my sister anyway? Always so greedy ... never sharing any of her toys ...
Suddenly, more of your words entered my mind, again, completely unbidden:
"My husband. My daughter. My mission. Jack. Sydney ..."
It was this, more than any threat of violence you can come up with, that made me pull away.
Well, at least I had the satisfaction of seeing that shocked look on his face. I only hoped I wasn't wearing the same look myself "And who was that from?" he managed to ask, when he had recovered his voice. Many emotions played across his face, most of which I managed to identify. There was one, though, that I couldn't put a name to. Until now.
The poor dear man looked so confused. Good. I was in control again. I smirked as I patted his face lightly, thinking, now this is more like it! "Too many questions."
And I strolled off, leaving him to gape after me. No. Scratch that. It wasn't a stroll. It was a strut. Strut, I told myself, as I felt his bewildered eyes still on me. It was as if he was trying to burn a whole in the back of my head, in hopes that my motivations would tumble out. You are Ekaterina Derevko, the Black Sparrow, femme fatale extraordinaire. So maybe Irina's got a better haircut or something. So what? You're still just as good as her. You've still got it, woman. Strut.
Sometimes, you have to think these things. They cause you to laugh at yourself. And I have always been a firm believer in not taking myself too seriously.
And so, a few days later, just look at the thanks I get for saving the life of your only child! You, sitting on my chest, eyes blazing nostrils flaring, just daring me to breathe. Ingrate!
"DON'T. YOU. EVER. TOUCH. MY. HUSBAND. AGAIN!!" You screamed like a banshee as you tossed me across the room. I got in a few good hits, but I knew you could overpower me with the advantage of your insane rage. And it certainly didn't help to quell your anger when I burst out laughing in the middle of our fight. You had been able to maintain your composure for exactly 1.5 seconds after I told you about the kiss, and then you had exploded.
"He's MINE, do you understand that? No one is taking him from me, he's MINE! I won't lose him ever again!" Your voice cracked, and suddenly the situation was decidedly unfunny. Your hands were still balled up into to fists, but they shook, along with the rest of you. I still can't believe you were crying. Even it was just a few tears. To see you get that upset over a friendly little bout of sibling rivalry ... well, if I had ever had any doubts in regards to your feelings for Jack Bristow, they vanished in that instant.
"Irina," I whispered, looking up at your anguished features. "Even if it was possible ... I would never take him away from you. I may resent you at times, but I could never, ever hurt you so. I know you love him."
You opened your mouth to retort, and I raised a brow as I gave you my most piercing gaze, daring you to contradict what I had said. Your mouth snapped shut as you closed your eyes and shook your head helplessly. "I can't lose him, Katya. I just can't."
"Oh, you won't. Let me up, and I'll tell you why."
You grunted discontentedly, but eventually, you acquiesced. Oh goody, now I can breathe again! "I learned something from that kiss, Irina. I mean, besides the obvious, like the fact that you're husband is a great kisser and that he really needs to get lai – ow, don't pinch! You are so dead if that leaves a mark!" Hastily I continued. "I think he actually felt ... guilty." Your eyes widened. "For responding, even as minimally as he did. In fact, I think the only reason he responded at all was because it reminded him of you. You've got the poor man trapped, Irina. Even if he can't admit it to himself, he loves you too." You stared at me. "You're just ... trying to placate me so I won't beat up on you anymore, aren't you?" I shrugged and gave you a Cheshire-cat smile. "Whatever you want to tell yourself, Rina. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to get some first aid before I catch my flight back to Tai Pei." I stood up, helped you off the floor, and clasped you in a quick embrace before I walked out the door again. "Take care. I'll be in touch." And so I left you to contemplate my words, and to lick your wounds, physical and otherwise. The truth doesn't always take so very long, Irina. And it isn't always fair. You married a man under completely false pretenses and betrayed him in the worst ways possible. You left your daughter for him to raise alone. Despite this, there is still so much love between the three of you. More than anything else you have, it is this that I envy. And more than anything else you posses, it is this that I pledge to protect, because you are my sister. Through the years, you've kept me as safe as I've kept you. You have saved my life more times than I can count. I may not know what it is to be in love with a man. I may not know what it is to receive love from my own child. But I know this: of the few people in this world that I do love, you are the only one who actually loves me back.