UNEXPECTED PROPOSITIONS
The space beside Donovan was vacant. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It was odd how he had already grown accustomed to having a body next to his in bed. Still somewhat disoriented from rousing himself out of a deep sleep, he didn't immediately see Kayla in the room. He had begun to wonder if she had gotten up and left him. After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room and he managed to make out the shape of Kayla's body. As she had done the day before, she stood in front of the window. She had made a tiny opening in the curtain with just enough room for her to peer out. She evidentially hadn't wanted the moonlight to come blaring into the room, waking him. She apparently didn't know he was already awake, sitting here wondering what was going through her confused mind. He left the bed and approached her. The instant he touched her, she tensed up ever so slightly. When she recognized his touch and presence, she sighed heavily, relaxing her wound up body. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. She tilted her head to give his lips access to the side of her throat. He felt that at any second, she was going to burst into tears. Although she had relaxed her body, she was trembling against him. Earlier, he had tried to convince her to go the emergency room and to call the police, but she refused, firmly stating that she was fine. She was also certain that Tom wouldn't bother her again, not after meeting the rough side of his fist. As he had thought many, many times, he knew there was more to the story, but she wasn't sharing it with him. Not yet. He also knew that she had been hurt more than she was letting on. Perhaps there weren't any serious physical injuries, but there were tons of emotional ones.
"Are you okay," he asked, his voice slightly muffled. His lips were still against her throat. "Stupid question, I know."
She wrapped her arms around his, relaxing her body more, allowing him to hold her even tighter. "It's not that stupid, Frank," she commented, trying hard to be flip. She was failing at it. Failing miserably. The repercussions of tonight's actions, hers as well as Tom's, would be heard and felt for weeks to come. Yet, she had to face her brother. This was something she wouldn't let slip. "I couldn't sleep, that's all. I suppose I'll call in at work tomorrow. If I had the ability to predict the future, I would have known to bring an overnight bag or something. I don't think I can show up wearing your shirt."
He smiled a little and placed a gentle kiss on her throat. "You look better in them than I do." He bit his lip. Bit it hard. There was something else he wanted to bring up, but he was afraid of pushing her too far. Tonight made him feel a bit pushy. When he saw her being attacked in her own car, he had never felt so enraged or so scared. The mixed emotions had nearly done him in, but it made him realize that he would do anything to protect her, do anything to avoid losing her. The words 'speak now or forever hold your peace' entered his mind, clinging to his brain. It refused to let him go. "I've been thinking about something, Kayla. I've been thinking about it for weeks now, but I never said anything, and I always managed to shove it to the back of my mind. Tonight made the thoughts come back to the surface, and I don't think I can hold it in any longer. You can tell me to go to hell, to back off, or whatever, but I can't keep this inside. There's no real reason why you should be traipsing around with an overnight bag like we're having some kind of sleazy, clandestine fling. Correct me if I'm wrong, but there's more between us than that." He paused for a few seconds to give her a chance to protest or begin protesting, but she said nothing. Plunging ahead, he said, "Come live with me."
It was another of those moments when Kayla felt like screaming an affirmative answer at the top of her lungs, but she couldn't follow that impulse. It was wrong. It was so wrong. She should have bitten the bullet when he told her he loved her. If she had said nothing, it might have hurt him enough to convince him to break up with her. That was the thing. She didn't want to hurt him like that, but the secrets she held within her heart were hurting him more than he could ever fathom. Like she had thought many times before, he didn't get it. He simply just didn't get it. She didn't have the guts to help him get it, either. She didn't want to. It was selfish. She couldn't understand why fate was doing this to her now. Where was Frank Donovan a year and a half ago when this whole crazy thing started? Why couldn't he have intervened in her life back then when it was safe? Her brother had told her that the news media had let some information slip about their bank jobs. Apparently, someone from the media had a friend in the FBI, and this person told the press about the gang's nickname: Sideshow. Right now, at this exact moment, she had never felt more like a freak in her life. Sideshow was so truly apt it was nearly heartbreaking to think about it.
Kayla broke away from the safety of Frank's arms. She slowly approached the bed and sat down, leaving him by the window. At first, she couldn't look at him. She could feel his eyes boring into her, digging into her. After a few moments, she lifted her head and gazed up at him. Just as she had suspected, he was gazing at her steadily, confusion was clearly visible in his eyes and facial expression. "Frank, I love you, but I don't think I'm ready for that." She had forced the words out of her mouth, desperately hoping that she sounded convincing enough. However, by the look on Frank's face, he wasn't exactly buying it.
He moved toward her and kneeled beside her. One arm went around her while he raised the other so he could touch her face. "I've heard similar words leaving your lips, haven't I? Wasn't it on the night we first made love? You didn't convince me then, and you're not convincing me now. I know it seems as if we're moving too fast, but what you feel and what you want is evident in your eyes. You sit before me, denying it. I don't understand. Can you help me with that? Can you help me understand why you refuse to follow your heart? I sensed the same hesitancy in you when you said you loved me. I had no doubt that you did, but I was almost certain you were about to deny that, too. What's going on, Kayla? What's keeping you from me?"
She couldn't believe how effectively he read her mind. He knew almost everything going on inside her, and had picked it apart with little to no effort. What in the hell could she do now? If she confessed about what was truly keeping her from him, he would have her down on the floor cuffing her. She had betrayed him. From day one, she had done so, and it continued. "Frank," she whispered. "I'm a mess. There's so much going on in my life right now and I can't begin to explain it to you. I wouldn't know how if I tried. I don't think you need my excess baggage or me in your life, your bed, or your home. Part of that mess you witnessed tonight with Tom. My hesitancy was due to that, among other things. Maybe it would be best if I left here tonight and never came back. I don't want anything else to touch or taint you. You don't deserve it. You deserve the best, and I'm not it."
"You're not going anywhere. You're not leaving me." His words were stated firmly, positively. It was more of a command than a statement of fact. "When I tell you I love you, I don't intend to allow you to turn away and walk out, not without a fight. We all have baggage. Whatever it is, Kayla, I'm here for you. Tonight when I saw that son of a bitch attacking you, I realized that I would do whatever it takes to protect you. Don't throw it away because of your past or your sense of what you think I may or may not deserve. I'll fight you every step of the way, and I don't accept defeat very easily."
His stubbornness was overwhelming. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen to her, why he couldn't read between the lines. It felt as if she was playing games with him, using him for her own selfish needs, but she didn't think that was exactly right, either. "You don't know what you're saying or doing. You're making this so hard for me, but I can't let you go. God help us both, but I can't do it."
A determined look came across his face as if he had just discovered the cure for the common cold and was trying to convince the public of its validity. "And you know what that says to me? It says that you're not supposed to let go. It means that we're meant to be together."
"I love you," she whispered.
"And I love you."
He moved a bit and she soon felt his lips placing gentle kisses along the top of one thigh. She leaned back a little and supported the majority of her weight with her arms. He slid one of his hands up her leg and settled it between her slightly parted thighs. She was clad only in his shirt and her undergarments, but they were hardly barriers at all. His hand ventured closer to the center of her as his body moved upward. His lips met hers and one of her arms came up, snaking around his neck. She gasped against his lips when she felt the edge of his forefinger making contact with her. As he touched her gently, driving her out of her mind, she inwardly cursed herself for lacking the strength to put a stop to this while she had the chance. It was in her mind to grab his hand and push him away, but it wouldn't stop him. Nothing had stopped him prior to this, so she didn't think anything else would work, either. Thoughts of stopping him quickly left her as he broke the kiss and allowed his mouth to glide effortlessly down to her throat. She sighed heavily when his hand moved away from the center of her and touched the bottom edge of the shirt she was wearing. His fingers began to make quick work of the buttons. He had the shirt open when they both heard the muffled twittering of a cell phone. He groaned in frustration, and moved away from her.
"I don't think it's mine," he said distractedly. "Yours?"
She sat up and closed the gaping shirt. She nodded. "I think so." She noticed he was gazing at her in an almost quizzical way, perhaps waiting to see if she was going to answer her phone. "I'm not going to answer it," she said in an answer to his unspoken question. As she stood, she saw that he kept his eyes riveted on her. She slowly approached her handbag that she had thrown onto an easy chair in the corner of the room. She dug the screaming phone out of her bag, patiently waiting for it to stop ringing. When it did, she opened the phone and turned it off. Nonchalantly, she threw it back into her bag. She turned to face her lover and she discovered that his eyes were still on her. One move she made spoke volumes to him, but she couldn't read his thoughts. "Whatever it was, I didn't want to deal with it. Not right now."
"Kayla, are you in trouble?"
She slowly approached him until she stood no more than mere inches away. Her hand came out to rest against his cheek. "You have no idea," she whispered harshly.
"If you don't tell me on your own, I have ways of finding out."
His gaze had gone from quizzical to deadly serious in five seconds flat. His dark eyes searched her face. He was trying to read her, to dig into her mind and extract all the secrets that she had held dear for nearly two years. "I know you do," she said. "It's why I insist on getting out of your life, but I love you and I can't. I also can't tell you everything right now. You said you were a patient man, Frank, and I believe that. Give me a chance to get a few things straight and I'll tell you whatever it is that you need to know. If you find out on your own, I can't guarantee that I can straighten out anything. I'm asking for your trust."
He nodded. "You have everything I've got, but I won't wait forever."
"Understood."
He took her hand down from his face and held it in his own. "Come to bed with me. We're both exhausted."
888
Donovan left Kayla in bed and he went immediately to the nest. The other members of the team had not arrived yet, so he had a few minutes alone. Earlier this morning, he had promised to give Kayla time, but right at the moment, he was going to break that promise. After their conversation, a few disturbing thoughts entered his mind, and he had to deal with them. He made his way upstairs to his office and he sat down before his computer. He glared at the monitor for a few minutes, hating himself for having doubts about his lover, but he couldn't ignore her words. He had done a basic search on Kayla the first time he went out with her. It yielded only the barest information about her, but there were other ways to search her background. Better ways. He could wait for Cody, of course, but he decided against it. This search constituted a personal endeavor. Right now, it had little or nothing to do with business. He wasn't certain, but he was afraid that Kayla had hinted at something big. He didn't know if it was his paranoia, an instinctive hunch, or his obsession with the Sideshow case. Whatever it was, he thought his lover might have been giving him some kind of information, some type of lead.
He bent over his keyboard, grabbed the mouse, and opened the program he needed. He typed in Kayla's name and began digging more thoroughly in her background. When he found nothing incriminating, he did the same search on her brother. He was again given less than incriminating information. Both brother and sister had apparently led sedate lives with nothing more than Carson Armstrong having a few misdemeanor charges, traffic violations, and parking tickets. Nothing major. He would have done a duplicate search on Kayla's ex-boyfriend, but he only knew his first name. When his search yielded nothing more than piddly shit, he sat back in his chair and ran his hands over his face tiredly, disgustedly. He should have felt major relief at finding little of nothing, but he didn't. There was something definitely wrong, but Kayla wasn't letting him touch it. Finding some inspiration, he went to his keyboard again and slowly typed out another name: "Kayla Falcon." He held his finger poised over the 'enter' key for five minutes or more. Sighing heavily, he tapped it and waited. He was greeted with an unexpected message: "No such name exists in database." Donovan gazed at the screen until his eyes began to burn. For now, he had his answers. For now, it would have to be good enough. It was time to begin searching for Tom. He had the distinct impression that Tom held the key to Kayla's chest of secrets. Perhaps he held something even more precious. Perhaps he, himself, was the key to the Sideshow.
888
Kayla came awake slowly. Frank wasn't in bed beside her. She got out of bed and began searching the house for him. She found a note from him awaiting her in the kitchen. There were few words, only enough to let her know that he had to go in. She threw away the note. It was time to go home and face her brother. She was almost positive it had been Carson on the phone earlier, and she knew he would be less than thrilled with her. No telling what Tom had told him.
888
After paying an early morning visit to Carson, Tom had gone home. Kayla's boyfriend had really done a job on his face, and he spent the better part of an hour doctoring his wounds. When that task was completed, Tom went over to his beat up filing cabinet. Carson was paranoid about everything, but Tom didn't care. He kept a few things here and there from their jobs. He had even gone against Carson's wishes and had some of his shares 'cleaned.' There were more witnesses to the gang's deeds than Carson would be comfortable with. Again, Tom didn't care. He did things his own way.
Tom unlocked the filing cabinet and took out a beaten up scrapbook. In it, he kept several mementos from his past life, a life that none of the gang knew about, even his best buddy, Carson. Tom had led a different life than what he told Carson about. His buddy insisted that none of the gang members could have anything harder than a misdemeanor on his or her criminal record. If they had anything more than that, he wouldn't trust them. Tom had a few black marks on his records, more than one felony. That didn't include the other covert shit he had dealt in and didn't get caught. One of the jobs he pulled where he did get caught involved some heavy shit with the DEA and a few other governmental agencies. Drugs, guns, and laundered money were the main elements. There was also a bad ass federal agent bopping around in the mix. He didn't know the guy's name, but he would never forget his face. The bad ass had taken out one of Tom's running buddies. He had seen the dude pull the trigger in cold blood. The bad ass fed was Kayla's boyfriend. A G-man was screwing Kayla on a regular basis. He wanted to be the one who told Carson. He and he alone.
888
A few hours later, Kayla was face to face with her very pissed off brother. Before she got settled into the apartment, he was on her, demanding from her why she refused to back away from her stock broker boyfriend. Kayla had no answers. She simply listened to Carson fuss and cuss, waiting for her chance to tell him what really happened. Once her brother grew silent, she took her shot.
"Are you done," she asked, exasperated.
Carson glared at her, his moss green eyes suddenly dark and violent. She had never seen him so angry before. "What's your story, Sis? Do you have an explanation? You were with the guy, sleeping with him, and he beat the shit out of Tom. I don't agree with Tom's motives, but he's thinking of the greater good of the gang and what we're trying to do for Brett. So, tell me, Kay. What's your version?"
She sighed heavily, readying for him to call her a liar. "You must believe me, Carson. I'm in love with this man and I can't walk away now. It can't be done. I was leaving around midnight to come back to tell you what happened and Tom stalked me. No telling how long he was there, waiting for his chance. He attacked me, Carson. Attacked me in the front seat of my car. I have every reason to believe he was going to rape me. I have the marks on my body to prove it. Frank beat him up to protect me. If he hadn't come, Tom would have succeeded." She stopped speaking for a moment to gather her courage reserves. "This wasn't the first time he attacked me, Carson. Remember the last bank job I was on? When you went out to send Dora a cashiers check, he broke in on me after my shower, and tried to mess with me then. I resisted, and he hit me. You saw the marks on my face. His fingers did it. Ever since he found out I was seeing Frank, he's been screwing with me."
Carson turned away from Kayla for a brief moment to allow her story to sink in. Tom's version mentioned Kayla cajoling her boyfriend into beating him up-for no good reason. When he first heard the story, he was too angry to analyze it, to tear it apart. Now that he had had a few hours to think about it, it didn't make sense. Kayla was nonviolent to a fault. She fought back only when it was necessary. Why would she sic her boyfriend on Tom just for shits and giggles? He loved Tom like a brother, but he wasn't flesh and blood. Kayla, on the other hand, was. He trusted her tenfold over Tom.
"I'll deal with Tom," Carson said sedately.
"And what about the other, Carson? What about me and Frank?"
Carson turned back around to focus his eyes on his sister. "We'll meet with the gang in a few days, after I finish with Tom. I have a plan that might cut this short so you can get on with your life, and Brett can get on with hers. But I need time to work it out before I present it."
"Whatever you decide, Carson, I'm out," she said firmly.
"Hold on to that thought until the gang meets. I'll do what I can to give you your out. Brett comes first, Kayla. We're still on the same page with that, right?"
She swallowed a huge lump in her throat. "Yes," she whispered harshly. "Brett comes first. I would never turn my back on that."
"Good. I'm glad we understand that."
Kayla turned away from her brother and entered her bedroom. After locking the door behind her, she dug her cell phone out of her handbag. She turned it back on and the phone beeped sharply. Someone had left her voice mail. She was sure she knew who that someone was. Frank. She hit a key to retrieve the message, and her hunch was correct. Frank's message was brief, almost perfunctory: "Meet me at 6:30. Castle Bar. Don't be late."
Don't be late. She had no idea what would happen after tonight. She felt a deep sense of foreboding doom. Her nightmares were becoming reality.
To be continued…