Chapter Nineteen - The Restless.
LONG TIME NO SEE?! SORRY I HAD TROUBLE SIGNING INTO MY ACCOUNT BUT NOT ANYMORE!
Opening thoughts - This is a long, but hopefully very juicy one, I hope you like it! It's going to contain the continuation of the conversation Charity and Miguel, had in What Becomes Of The Strong. Plus a few more flashbacks, couldn't hurt!
Havana, Cuba.
Charity's paces drew of a louder tone once she reached her destination. Pausing just before the door's opening . From where she stood she could clearly here Destiny and Damien's muffled voices mapping out their next moves in the other room of which she was supposed to be in a half an hour ago.
Quietly on the sidelines she listened as her back leaned against the wall, letting her breath partake in a small sigh of relief. Past the excitement of playing the game, she did fear being caught by Lennox Cunnings … it wasn't the aspect of so much what he might have done to her, but more the fact that everything she had promised - everything that had been put on her bringing the Lopez family down would be all thrown away.
But luckily for her it wasn't.
She remained sceptic at first , when he began to tell her that he knew about her situations and he to knew exactly what it felt like to have something so precious stolen by the wrath Lopez's darkened secrets.
"They murdered my wife ... Ten years ago," Lennox confided the words bitter at his tongue. He told her since then he decided to work on the inside, try with everything in his power to ruin the Dynasty but there wasn't any way to do that … it was as if no one in Cuba was against all the terrible things the family had done to other's.
"They were too scared." Until her.
Charity placed her fingertips around the doorknob. Somehow her talk with Lennox gave her a little bit more drive than she started with but with that came so much more responsibility, now she had more than only one person to fight for.
"It isn't like we could just very well raid the place," Destiny explained, her eyes glancing from Charity to Damien in the lightly dimmed room. "They're practically expecting us to do that."
Something in her tone when she spoke always seemed to turn an angry nerve on to Damien. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to her talk, it was as if he and Charity were barely experienced enough to finish the case themselves."Well there really isn't anything else we can do is there?" He snarled glaring at the woman. "It wasn't like your idea worked or haven't you remembered that you almost got Charity killed,"
He leaned at the end of the table of which Charity and Destiny sat across from each other. Their was an obvious change of emotion in his tone one that neither of the woman could directly put a finger on as his back faced them in the slight darkness.
Charity released her gaze of concern from Damien. She rubbed her eyes momentarily before searching the room, it was hollow almost seemingly dead in its stillness as it was only filled with surveillance video's from the hotel and other devices other officials used when they ventured to this hotel. It was a customary pit stop for, the firm Destiny worked with whenever they were in Cuba.
She sighed quietly sitting back in her chair, her eyes shit trying to clear her mind of all else. "Almost being the big word in that statement," Charity confirmed her voice aimlessly trying to clear tension as she went on. "Besides, without Destiny's quick thinking, we wouldn't have found out about Lennox," Now wasn't the time to fight, and somehow a part of her felt angry with Damien for being so surly at the worst possible time.
Draped on the tables where blueprints and information's on the Lopez Industry spread that found itself in the core of Havana, paper's of each and every person connected with the family blew all about the room that was scattered. A sign of true work and process happening in the are.
Damien grunted a tangible phrase as he crossed his arms.
Destiny was still at the table, half focused on it all. She too, had lost so much to the Lopez family … her friends, her family. The same burning vengeance grew behind her eyes as it did in Charity's, perhaps that's what drew them together that night they met on the cobble stones of the city near the hotel.
"We. Have," Destiny paused in her statements her eyes deeply focusing on the happenings in all quarters of the building as a certain glow came to her eye. She had an idea. " What about the wherehouse,"
The words echoed in Damien and Charity's minds as they both shared a torn away glance. It almost seemed typical of all answers to lie in the very same place, Patrick died.
Her mouth opened half as if wanting badly to sat something as she tightly pursed her lips. Maybe it hurt to much for Charity to ask , maybe beyond herself it scared her that she had gotten so close so fast. Whatever the case every, she just need to work out the mess that formed in her mind. Her eyes fell to the ground before reaching Destiny's and now Damien's. "You mean they have a where house -"
"Comparable to the one they have in Harmony. Yes," The young black woman replied regretfully. "The same one Patrick was killed in five years ago," She continued catching Damien's warning glare, at that point she cursed herself for hashing up old memories for Charity … and Damien.
Slowly she continued. "I've been researching and it seems that they've inhibited one likely to the one in Harmony in almost each state in the U.S - some sparse across Europe, and Southern America."
"That's the only place they'd think we wouldn't look." Charity replied contemplatively.
Damien's furrow deepened as he looked at Charity. That didn't make sense, why wouldn't they expect them to be there, they expected Patrick to be there five years ago what could have changed in that time!? "Why?" He inquired a high raise in brow.
Charity turned to him, surprised he wouldn't have though it although it was late and the room quickly grew black. It wasn't the easiest thing focus when you wee tired and their was a blinding darkness surrounding you. "They think I'm weak," Her lips cracked a tentative smile. "They think I couldn't bare being in another where house after Patrick died."
"They were expecting Charity not to know about their secret hide out. Besides the resort, and once every other plan fell through with all of their affiliates, she'd leave …"
"Or killed, which is what they most likely wanted," Charity commented obliquely unfazed by the matter-of-factness.
Somehow all the process and prospects they'd tried to explore by coming to Cuba seemed so irrelevant facing the one solution that had been facing them ever since their planes landed on the rock ground.
"I think we should get some rest," Charity suggested rising from her chair. "It's late. And we have work ahead of us tomorrow."
"So you'll do it?" Damien asked as he turned to her retreating back.
Uncanny as it was Destiny seemed to complete, the ending statement that formed in Damien's expressions. "Were really going , tomorrow?"
"Why not?" Charity shrugged a smile of pre - satisfaction dancing on her lips as she thought of how good it would be to finally see Ricardo and Yiezmien fall. She couldn't wait.
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He couldn't see anything. All that resided around him were sounds, all sharp and piercing to his ears and he winced and dodged all of him his defensive seemed heightened, as Martin sat tied to chair in what seemed the middle of nowhere.
At times his captive who'd hover around him, splashing water on his face and taunting him as much as he could. And hard as he did try he could never truly figure out who the person was … or if it was a person at all? It was a strange though to think but having experienced all he had, it was nothing to over look.
When his blindfold was discarded , his abductor was fully clothed in a dark clothing covered within a long trench coat. Their face covered with some sort of mask, as their voice scratched within some bizarre torturing rasp.
"Surprise!" It exclaimed within the light that became the room, watching Martin wince at the sight of it.
He backed away from the figure remaining silent. His then bright hazel eyes seemed to darken in the light with an irreplaceable violent rage. He wanted to kill whoever was keeping him from setting his son free, and keeping the family that he had broken together.
"What's wrong Fitzgerald cat got your tongue?"
"What are you panning to do with me?" He gulped deeply, fearing the answer.
It laughed slightly, seemingly leaning inches away from his breath. "More than you need to here about."
Harmony Penitentiary.
Miguel must have chained smoked through more than just a pack as he sat in his cell block in the late of night. They'd came to him a few days ago from one of his onlooker's/ fans on the other side of the jailhouse, collecting dust in a dark corner in his cell, until awhile ago.
He never really recalled ever being a smoker, not even somewhere between the time he'd been brainwashed to do God knows what, but the more the box sat isolated in a corner the more it beckoned him.
As he took the first inhale, he felt the smoke enter his lungs adjusting to the comforting burn he lay on his back letting the smoke that filled the space as he exhaled take everything in his path.
He needed this.
He needed the distraction.
Being in jail as long as Miguel had been, or as long as it must have seemed, in a torturing stillness full of an echoed silence and an inescapable darkness that even appears in the light, a man tended to be left alone with his thoughts.
And that was the last thing he wanted.
He didn't want to think about whether his mother and sister where alright, because then he would worry. He didn't want to think about how Douglas and Bianca where handling the club, because then he would only feel envious of the progression he would have no part in …
And most of all Miguel just didn't want to think of the position he was putting Charity in - to prove his innocence, if he ever truly was innocent of all this. It was hard not to think about the trouble he'd caused her , then again it was just as hard for him not to think about her.
He couldn't though.
He didn't want to stop thinking of Charity. To do that, to him, was like telling a human being not to breathe … it was an impossible fatal task.
As he shut his eyes tight, Miguel wanted his mind to be blank for if only just a moment. He didn't want to think about anything or anyone outside. He just wanted everything to go away.
In Paris … there's this small inn on this beautiful beach front in the prairies… With his eyes shut and the grey smoke clouding around he could have almost envisioned her laying across from him. Her eyes were shut, too, desperately trying to vividly paint an image in his mind.
She was beautiful. The moon making her pale skin shimmer as her hair lay expertly tussled over her sky colour eyes. A frustrated smile over took her as she held her white sheets tightly around her, still determined no less.
I've never been. Charity admitted quietly, her opened blue eyes now falling to his. I guess I just like to imagine I have , through the pictures I've seen…
He didn't dare talk. Miguel didn't even think he could, fearing he would have ruined the moment, he just listened all the tension of the world seeming so irrelevant at the sound of her.
Timidly she smiled. He could tell she felt nervous by this situation - their situation. His hazel eyes bore into her with such a deep intensity, their were feeling behind his eyes … feeling that Miguel knew Charity couldn't return nor ones she'd expected expecting their affair to be purely physical and nothing but. In spite of himself and their pact he felt indifferent. Anyway, there's this sunset … it comes up at around five in the morning just up above the waves of the beach. It's the most beautiful thing … I don't think I've every seen anything so beautiful.
I don't know … every time I dream or when I need an escape I just picture myself there, looking over the waves as the sun comes up -
Charity turned away from him her eyes flickering open and shut while her words ceased letting deep contemplation set in. She was thinking of him, Miguel would have been more than an idiot if he didn't realize where her heart truly was. He knew she was still in love with Patrick, and that's why he couldn't help but feel like beating himself up for how far he put himself out to her. Miguel was never one to be rejected by any woman, and that wasn't going to change he wouldn't let it.
I'm sorry … She continued breaking a restless silence , a weak smile becoming of her quickly before a laugh. I don't even know why I even told you that.
That was the first time he saw it.
Perhaps it had always been there, masked as his thought - of addiction he had of her, but the deeper he looked was the more eh saw, and soon reluctant feelings weren't as easy to conceal. He didn't think he would feel anything for her once whatever they had began … but he did, nor did he think he'd ever fall for her,
But he was.
For he first time Miguel smiled in his jail cell. His eyes still shut smoke floating above him, the sight of her still laying beside him made things slightly bearable for the moment, although he knew tomorrow would have been a different story. He enjoyed having her even if it was only a figment of his imagination .
Havana Hotel Suite.
The town was stunning at night. Charity leaned against a wall her eyes closed listening to the sounds of Havana in the late of night, the image of shimmering lights and flowing dresses still in her blinded sights as she could feel the thick warn air, and the tempting sweet smells.
She opened them quickly while turning around and venturing to her balcony, noticing a couple invaded in a heated exchange in her eye sight. With her breaths becoming heavy she backed away her eyes fluttering shut once more.
"Damn it answer me, Miguel? Why did you do this to me?"
Silence.
"God do you like doing this to me? Was this some sorted plan of yours. You must have been in with all the Lopez Industries schemes weren't you. You fucking bastard you seduced me for the hell of it just to get a fucking cheap thrill. Get back at the bitch, right? RIGHT?!"
She thought he was enjoying her pain, the inside of his demeanour dancing with glee with the spectacle she'd been making of herself and the pain the radiated in her darkened indigo eyes. Charity turned at that moment knowing that talking to Miguel at this point was doing her more harm that good, as she felt a tight grasp on her arm violently turning her around.
"You may think this is one of the worst possible things that can happen to you in life right now, and I'm truly sorry , but I won't stand here and listen to this, especially when you hardly understand even the morsel of what you've just put yourself in?"
"Excuse me?""Come on, Charity. You knew exactly what you were getting into when you got with me, if you were as good at your job as I suspected you would have figured out through my unwillingness to tell you about my past that something was up. But still you wanted to be with me, I never seduced you … we both got into this thing willingly -"
She wanted badly to ask him about all the times he'd said he loved her, that the words practically dripped from her tongue but she refrained keeping her strength as she glared at him, recoiling her arm viciously.
"Really because from where I sit it looks as if what we had wasn't as willing as I first conceived. Think about it: You knew I was vulnerable after loosing Patrick and that I had no intentions of wanting you but still you persisted to involve yourself in my life until …" She paused closing her statement when she knew well what she was close to allowing herself to say : Until I felt as though I had to have you.
Charity grasped herself tightly the breezes blowing past her, she wanted her eyes to open breaking her of the memory but it wouldn't cease.
"The truth of the matter is, I've seen more than enough to believe you killed … Patrick and chose never to tell me when you knew how much it meant to me and when you knew …"
His hazel eyes pierced her in memory as vividly as they did the moment, they stood on opposing sides. She remembered trying to avoid him but his gaze was so strong as if a power to enable her from doing nothing else but watch him.
"That you were falling in love with me, Charity?" He'd said in the same tone of knowing arrogance, she met with so many times. The room fell silent once more as she looked on at him with mixed emotions of anger and hurt. "You said it before, you told me you loved me … there's no point in denying it any longer."
"There's nothing to deny." She'd told him coolly cursing herself for letting her mouth get the best of her. "I never meant what I said … saying that I loved you now was just an empty word. Just a fulfillment to make things seem better, when the truth is I don't love you … I've never loved you." She remembered a small flash of hurt that hit his eyes as he turned from her, and she couldn't help but feel complete … even if it was a lie. "Does it ring a bell, Miguel? I sure you remember when you looked me in the eyes and told me the exact same lie …"
She saw him stand silently ahead of her. His hand clasped in front of him as he turned, "Go away Charity." His voice was calm, emotionless as he looked at her deadly.
"Not until you answer me."
"There's nothing to answer. I killed Patrick, there is nothing else you could possibly need to know. So please just leave,"
"I don't believe you." She'd confided her voice calm as she tried to get him to look at her once more. Charity knew there was more to this that what she'd seen all she wanted was the truth from him.
"The video tape or the news reports weren't enough weren't they?"
"Enough to make me think you killed Patrick, but not enough to make me believe it. Like you said Miguel I am good at my job, and I know there's something wrong with this, I just know it! And if you'd just tell me the truth …"
"You can finally save the poor rich boy? Sorry, I don't think that could ever be done. Charity, there are things that are bigger than just you and I …" Miguel confided. If only she'd known the truth … if only he'd known the truth. " And this … this just happens to be one of them, believe me. Now just leave,"
She walked away at that moment, angry with herself and with Miguel for not wanting to tell her the truth of which she knew he held.
As Charity opened her eyes once again she bit her lip in shear anguish, halting her tears while hugging her sides a s a ways of comfort but it did nothing for her. There wasn't any comfort for this: A heart still evidently caught between two men, the love of her life and his conceived killer.
…
Closing Thoughts - Next chapter is ½ done. Please, feel free to cuss me in your reviews and I hope this is better than what I've been writing so far.
