For Jordan the minutes ticked off like hours for the rest of her shift. She performed as she was paid too, not wanting to draw any undue attention.
She had him. Or she would the second she turned everything over to JD's editor. Sloppy. You can take the lawyer out of the office but you can't take the lawyer out of the bench. Gordon documented everything. He covered his bony ass even if it made it an easier target. JD was so close; one password away from a cyber-trail that tied Judge Gordon's office to millions in money laundering and a half a dozen Boston area murder cover-ups. Santos was just cocky, and drunk enough, to prove it to her by accessing Gordon's personal network with his Blackberry.
By midnight, Jordan found herself unconsciously scanning the crowd, looking for Woody. She didn't want to dwell on the fact he wasn't there. By one AM she went to her boss complaining of a stomachache. It wasn't too far from the truth. He made her promise to be just that much earlier tomorrow, but Jordan knew she'd either be watching the evening news saying that Gordon and his hired gun were behind bars or she herself would be sitting in jail beside them.
She wiped off her make-up and changed her clothes, leaving it all behind as she went out into the street to hail a cab.
Her knock was quiet. Woody sat on the bare mattress and stared at the door. He didn't need to have Superman's X-ray vision to know who it was. He wedged his beer bottle among the many empties on the crowded nightstand.
He made it to the door by the second knock.
His greeting was just a quick once over, assuring himself she was still in one piece before letting his already overwrought imagination have a field day.
"Hey," she said softly. He made no move to step aside, so she continued. "I saw your rental was still here. I'm...sorry."
Woody rolled her eyes. Jordan may sound sincere but his drunken mind knew better. He made a nondescript grunt and moved aside just enough for her to slip through. She smelled like cigarettes, booze and...them. He smelled like spilt beer, cold sweat and something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Jordan noticed the bed had been striped bare, the linens carelessly tossed in the corner. She didn't know about the mess he made and wondered if it was because she had slept in them... and he couldn't bring himself to lay in her filth.
She ducked her head and murmured, "I'm going to take a shower and then we need to talk..."
He followed her, grabbing her arm before she could reach the doorway. "I think we need to talk right now."
She met his eyes, feeling near light headed. The stress of the last few weeks had nothing on the strain of the last twenty four hours. "You want to fight and I'm tired. Let me go."
He tightened his fingers instead. "What Jordan? You have the energy to go do God knows what to get Pollack's story, but you can't find the oomph to talk to me?"
She wrenched her arm free. "You want me to feel guilty for what I did. And how dare you make it sound as if I do. A good man died trying to get that information."
His eyes narrowed. "So we get to the real reason you did all this. It wasn't because you wanted to save you're happy ass...although that was a nice side bennie...No. It was all for the late, great JD Pollack's legacy. His precious story. Was he that good of a fuck Jordan? Was he that good to make you forget how he screwed you outside of the sheets too? How he used us all..."
She cut him off. Fragile as she was, rage exploded in her. She lashed out. Her fists flying at his chest. "How dare you! How dare you say anything about the way I live my life? He was there for me. He was there when I needed y..."
Jordan bit back her words. She swung away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, struggling for control. They were losing sight of the original argument, and its wake old wounds began to fester...threatening to ooze out. They were in uncharted territories. What they were doing was not only wrong...it was dangerous. They had to get control of themselves and their emotions now...before they did something they would regret forever. Something they'd both hate.
"We can't do this." Jordan moved away from him, and then faced him again. "I...I can't go there with..."
It was his turn to cut her off. "It's always about YOU! Do you have any idea how much damage you left Jordan! Did it ever cross your mind to ask me about the people you call your friends?"
He advanced on her; she saw he was shaking with rage and pain. "Do you ever once think to ask about Lily? Not an hour went by were she didn't ask me if I heard anything about you. Garret has been jumping though hoops to keep your disappearance below the radar and Nigel has been working day and night to keep one step ahead of the investigators your case."
A mirthless laugh escaped his lips. "And me? I destroyed probably one of the most honest things that'll ever happen to me because I can't keep my objectivity when it comes to you."
He bent his face close to hers. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You've lived your life wiping your feet on the people who love you the most and all for what? So you can finish what your little Aussie boyfriend started."
Woody wanted blood. She saw it in his eyes. He wanted her to crack...to break down or fly into a million pieces. He wanted to punish her.
She wouldn't give him the pleasure. She wasn't about to fall apart and back off. She met his gaze evenly, even though she was shaking badly. "Don't talk to me like that. Don't you dare cheapen what JD and I meant to each other," she said pointing her finger into his chest.
"Cheapen?" He snorted, grabbing her hand, closing his own in a fist around it. "I have to give the bastard some credit. At least he didn't suck off God knows who for his information".
"You son of a bitch!" She brought up her other hand to his chest, curling her fingers into his T-shirt, wanting to slap him so badly that she shook with it. "You don't understand because you don't want to..."
"Are you so sure?" he caught her other hand locking her to him. "Maybe it's because I do know you Jordan. JD Pollack was lucky son of a bitch. It didn't take him four years to see the real you. You're a cold, conniving bitch, sweetheart, totally incapable of loving anyone or any..."
"Stop it!" She yanked her hands free. But he didn't stop. He kept on pushing, egging, the smell of blood was in the air.
With a howl of rage she lunged at him, taking him by surprise. "You were the one that told me to go screw myself when I opened myself up to you. But you are too angry and self-centered to see that it was a first for me!" She caught the side of his jaw with her fist. "I DID love you, you little prick."
He grinned, sarcastically. "Never use the words 'little' and 'prick' in the same sentence when you are talking to a man." He effortlessly he caught her hand, than the other. "Admit it; you never loved anyone other than Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh."
"I did! I loved him...and I loved you. I was hurt too!" She tried to wrench herself free but unbalanced him instead. Tangled together, they hit the edge of the mattress, and then tumbled onto the floor. The hit was hard. It knocked the breath out of her.
He rolled on top of her, pinning her underneath him, locking her arms over her head. "You're lying. You never loved me. You said it only because you thought I was going to die. Then you used my feelings for you to conveniently get rid of Pollack when he started to get too close."
There was more truth in that statement then she wanted to admit. Unconsciously maybe, she did set out to use him. JD was getting too close and Woody was handy.
But somewhere in the darkness of that snowy winter night she discovered what she was doing had nothing to do with JD and everything to do with the way she felt about the man she was with.
"It wasn't like that Woody. Honestly..." The fight was gone out of her. She began to cry. "In the end I lost you both. I have nobody Woody. Not really. Not the way I need."
"You had me." He tightened his hands over her, his grip punishing. "But that was never enough. I was only good for a law-bending favor. Maybe to bail your ass out of trouble...But I was never good enough for you."
She shook her head. "Please don't say tha..."
She didn't finish. Woody's mouth caught hers, her words and her tears. She felt his anger, his frustration...his confusion. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and ground his pelvis into hers. It was meant to punish her, wanting her to pay for the last two months...hell, the last five years. He wanted her to pay for how she's hurt him.
Abruptly, he released her, shifting his weight so he was no longer keeping her pinned. He was utterly disgusted with himself.
Instead of getting away Jordan used his withdrawal to anchor him to her. She brought her hands up to his hair and wrapped her legs around his.
With a sudden burst of realization, she knew she wanted him. And it had nothing to do with the act of making love. Nothing to do with sharing, or intimacy, or even romance. And above all it had nothing to do with love itself. She wanted him to take her fast and hard, to be inside her...to make her forget. To literally screw her brains out.
And God help her, she wanted to do the same to him.
Muttering an oath he ended the kiss and broke away from her, breathing like he had just run a marathon. "Jordan...Christ..I'm...
"No," she tightened her fingers in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers. "No," she said again, catching his mouth, his tongue, desperate and hungry. So hungry she thought she'd die from it.
She clawed at him, at his clothes. He clawed at her. Button's flew, seams gave, and in frustration undergarments were kicked away. Naked, they came together. As he thrust into her she cried out. But not in pain. No, far from it.
Their movements were raw. It was rough and ugly. They didn't waste time kissing or stroking. There were no whispered words of affection or even pleasure. Only grunts of self-satisfaction. Their joining represented the culmination of a year of misunderstanding and longing. Without uttering a word, they told each other everything they had been speaking and feeling.
And some of what they had to say hurt.
Immediately afterward, she rolled onto her side, not wanting to see his expression, the look in those blue eyes. What had begun in anger had twisted into an ugly kind of passion that could only end serious regrets. She drew her knees to her chest ashamed and embarrassed. She behaved like the kind of woman he had just accused her of being. And truth be known, the kind of woman she had to be the last few weeks. Jordan squeezed her eyes shut, aching in a way she never had before.