Author Note:
This is a condensed version of my story, Focal Point.
On the advice of some very helpful readers, I edited the story and removed as much unneeded content I could in hopes of making the story more enjoyable for them.
If there are any other sections you believe are not needed, please let me know an I'll see what I can do to remove them. I hope to post the conclusion soon! :D
For those who enjoy the full-length version of, Focal Point... new chapters are coming soon!
Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and your encouragement!
"Red, where the hell are you?" Elizabeth Keen's acerbic tone crackled through the phone line.
"Why," Red Reddington smiled, recognizing her annoyance, "do you miss me?"
"I don't know," she countered, sweetly. "Since I can't find you, I can't get you in my gun sight, now can I?"
"My dear Lizzy," Red chuckled his amusement, "I am in Italy and have been for the last three days." he scanned the enormous airplane hanger absently. "I believe I mentioned I was here when we last spoke."
Red watched Francis Holbrook speaking with a group of men across the way, making sure the man was following his instructions to the letter.
Francis was a good guy, a smart guy. Red, however, was the connection needed to make all involved feel more at ease.
The man's experienced eyes continually returned to one individual in particular. Though Red couldn't quite pinpoint why, the older man felt an indescribable something... amiss.
This guy was jumpy. And why? This was a commonplace transaction both sides had conducted a thousand times before.
"When are you coming home?" Liz's voice broke his train of thought.
"Sometime today," Red's scowl deepened. "... I hope."
The youngest of the men was definitely skittish. Red's brow rose slowly as he witnessed the boys hand dropping once again to his weapon, as if reassuring himself.
Why was this guy so twitchy? None of Angelo's men were unprofessional, quick tempered or excitable. But this guy was different.
"Red?" Elizabeth Keen's voice asked uncertainly. "Are you there?"
"I'm here, sweetheart." Red muttered offhandedly.
Francis opened the briefcase that he had sat on the trunk of the car. Angelo's right-hand man absently checked the contents, nodding his approval before holding his hand to shake on the deal.
The loud wail of a siren abruptly filled the air.
"Shit," Red sighed, suddenly resigned to the inevitable. He casually pulled his weapon, a little annoyed, truth told.
The 'nervous' young man pulled his gun from his waist, firing blindly as he ran for cover.
Slamming his briefcase shut, Francis gathered it under his arm, bolting for the stairs of the plane.
All hell was breaking loose, men pulling weapons, running for cover, cursing, shouting in general. Total chaos reigned supreme.
Red turned his attention when Angelo's right-hand man, his face grimly set, trained his gun sight on Francis Holbrook.
"Don't fucking think about it!" Red warned the tall Italian, his tone even and unflustered.
Something in the dark eyes determined Red's next move. He lowered his weapon, striking the other man in the leg. The guy went down, hard and fast.
Francis made a jump for cover, bailing behind a row of large toolboxes.
Red rolled his eyes, sighing heavily.
"Sweetheart, I have to go." he fired off a shot, wounding another of the opposition. "Can I call you back?" he asked sardonically.
Angelo was going to be so pissed. Red shook his head woefully.
"Red–"
"I won't be long, I promise." he remarked casually. Pulling the phone from his ear, he smiled slowly, snapping it shut on her bitching.
"Francis!" the young man cautiously peeked over the toolbox. "Get on the damn plane!" Red turned quickly, wounding a man creeping up on Francis' position.
"Kinda busy trying to not get capped in the ass here, Red!" Francis yelled right back.
"I'm about to do it myself!" Red laid down a series of well-aimed scatter fire. "Now, go!"
Running for the stairs, Francis leapt melodramatically from the third stair into the interior of the plane.
His face incredulous, Red grumbled his consternation, dialing his phone. "Angelo!" he growled, "Put down your fucking drink and get your lazy ass in here!"
"What in the h–" Angelo stuttered when he heard the gunfire, sighing heavily. "I'll be right there." he muttered dejectedly.
Continuing his cover fire, Red was thankful his men only wounded the other combatants. Perhaps this could yet be salvaged if no one fired a kill shot.
Angelo's car arrived on the scene almost immediately, the slender man sliding effortlessly from the backseat even before it skidded to a stop.
"Lower your fucking weapons!" he rattled off angrily to his people. "Cease fire, dammit!"
Languidly waving his gun in the air, Red gestured for his men to follow suit.
Approaching the men, Angelo's face was purple with rage, "What in the holy hell happened!?" he asked disgustedly, stepping over a man groaning loudly on the floor.
Red's gun changed directions indicating the needed route. "Your man has an itchy trigger finger."
"What the hell are you talking about!" Angelo scowled as the young man in question came out from his hiding spot, armed and panicky.
"He heard a cop siren and then this... " Red waved around the room.
Both men examined the kid closer, finally seeing the dark circles under the boy's wild eyes. Under the sweat, his skin was pasty and flushed. His muscles jerked, tense and spastic. The kid was high as a fucking kite.
Agitated by events, Red worked the tension in his jaw, checking his own men were functional while Angelo handled his own problem.
"Reddington, you have my deepest apologies." Angelo sighed deeply, as his men secured the troublemaker. "I should have known... should have seen... "
"No one was seriously hurt, but we can't have a repeat of this." Red warned.
"I assure you. We won't. He's going to get clean and stay clean even if I have to keep him locked up for a year or more." Angelo looked around anxiously. "Are your men–"
"They're okay. A little more awake now, but fine."
Angelo glanced about, frowning. "And Francis?"
Red sighed, staring at the plane. "Francis?"
Francis peaked his head around the door frame. "Yeah?" He asked cautiously.
"You can come out from hiding now."
"What the hell was that about!" Francis asked, bouncing gingerly down the stairs.
"Drugs," Red said to the approaching man.
"We didn't have any drugs." Francis reminded helpfully.
"I know that," Red rubbed his eyes, trying to keep matters in perspective. "I meant... one of Angelo's men was high. The one who started all of this."
"Oh, I thought maybe they didn't accept our offer."
"Do you normally reject an offer by shooting up a room?" Red asked the man.
"It's been known to happen."
"And even with that past history, you came unarmed?"
"Oh," It dawned on the younger man. "Well, no actually." he bent, taking the gun from his ankle holster. "I forgot I had this."
Red's mouth fell slightly agape, sharing a look with Angelo. "You have your idiot. I have mine."
"Angelo, in light of recent events... " Red continued before Francis could respond, nodding his head in the direction of Angelo's men groaning and limping about, "I'd understand if you wished to set negotiations aside until another time."
"No... no. We'll do it now." Angelo decided firmly. "This has been in the works for three days. Unless, of course, you'd rather deal with another source."
"This is your baby." Red signified the ball was in Francis's court.
Francis thought quietly to himself for a few seconds. Red knew very well all the man had to take into consideration.
The travel time, waiting for another shipment, bad feelings with Angelo and his men. He hoped like hell Francis made the right decision.
The young man's eyes raised, "No, we'll finish the deal. We're here." It was nodded with finality. "Let's do it."
"All right, gentlemen. Let's get this over with." Red smacked his hands together, pleased with the decision made. "I have a high tempered brunette waiting anxiously for me to return a call."
"Lizzy." Red swallowed his drink casually. "I'm sor–"
"Are you all right?" Elizabeth practically snapped. "Is Dembe okay? What happened?" She exasperated.
"We're all fine. Just an unfortunate misunderstanding." Red propped his feet on a nearby table. The hollow echo of the wind rushing around the streamline jet, relaxing him greatly.
"We should be landing in DC in about six hours." he hadn't actually asked, but had traveled enough to know the time references from any given location.
Francis passed by, having closed the door to the restroom, heading to the galley. "Is that your pissy brunette?"
Liz's brow furrowed deeply, having heard the offhanded remark. "...Excuse me?" she tilted her head slightly. "Who is that?"
"This is Francis." Red continued to sip his drink, "Not to worry sweetheart, you will never be graced by his presence, ever."
Francis took umbrage, "Say what?" he asked highly disgruntled. "Hey! I'll have you know I'm highly sought after."
"By the police." Red mumbled into the line, making her chuckle, which in turn made him smile.
"Many people love spending time with me," Francis continued his tirade. He ticked off on his fingers. "I have an amazing personality. I'm handsome, to be sure. And... I'm... I'm... "
"Modest?" Liz smiled gently into the phone.
"Modest is not a word that comes to mind when I think of Francis." Red played along. "Demented, on the other hand."
"I'll have you know, I can be incredibly modest." Francis insisted firmly. "Modesty is my middle name."
"That he disclaims, not the other." Red said, enjoying the giggling coming over the line. "Would you like me to tell her your middle name?"
Francis backed off immediately, "We said we'd never discuss that again." he warned.
Red held his smile, "Do you mind, I'm on the phone here." he gestured.
"You're the one who dragged me into the conversation." Francis reminded peevishly.
Red rolled his eyes to the heavens, sighing. "Go to sleep, Francis." he said tiredly.
The man shrugged and settled into his chair. Reclining the plush seat, he dragged a blanket over his shoulders, falling blessedly silent.
"Speaking of sleep, when's the last time you had any?" Liz asked of the obviously exhausted man.
"I'm fine." he waved the question aside.
"Are you really okay?" Concern laced her voice.
"Yes, we're fine." he dismissed.
"I said... you." she reiterated.
Red was touched, his voice softening, "I'll come by the Blacksite as soon as I return." he promised.
It surprised him to realize that he really needed to see her. When it had become a need, he had no notion.
"Okay, I'll let you get some sleep then." she felt better. "Get some rest, Red. I mean it."
"I think you do." He hung up the phone gently.
Asleep for a little over an hour, Red groggily felt for the vibrating phone, "...Yes," he rubbed bleary eyes.
"Reddington, I don't know if you've heard," a disconnected voice came over the line, "Carlos and Victor have been taken out."
Red blinked the sleep from his eyes, sitting up slowly. "By whom, anyone know?"
"If I had to guess, and I'd say it was a very good guess," the voice continued, "Carver."
"Are you sure?" Red shifted the kinks from his back.
"If not, we have a new loony stripping flesh from people then making a rug from it."
"Thank you for informing me." Red stared vacantly as he hung the phone up, lost in thought.
The new Blacklister he had in mind to hand over to the team would have to wait. A new danger was on the horizon. A deadly one.
Laying back in his seat, he willed his eyes to close. The burning in his gut increased two fold.
Things were about to get messy and violent, and there was nothing Red could do but try to catch the son of a bitch and make it all stop.
Elizabeth Keen stared at the phone, willing it to ring for the past hour. Yet, there had been nothing.
Even though Red had been in the middle of a fire fight earlier, he had been so blasé about the matter, she felt she had no recourse but to wait for his return call.
She considered tapping into his chip to pinpoint his location, but no matter how concerned she was for the man...it would have been an abuse of power.
They weren't working a case right now. He wasn't technically needed.
But Red was her asset...
She should know the welfare of the man, shouldn't she? She convinced herself that was the reason she felt so unsettled.
Sighing, she kinked the tension from her neck.
One hour.
She'd give him one hour and then call. If he didn't answer, she'd have him tracked, she decided.
Clearing her desk of the day's paper work, she shut down the lights before trudging tiredly out of the office and to her car.
Most people would be dancing their way out to the parking lot after their work day, but she had another night of fast food and an empty house waiting for her.
Okay, so maybe that part wasn't so bad. She was more than glad Tom was gone.
The jerk.
"Let it go, Lizzy." she muttered to herself, backing out of the parking spot. "Great, I'm calling myself Lizzy." she sighed. "Even better, I'm talking to myself."
Driving down the darkened streets, she glanced about at her options. As it was late, her choices of cuisine were limited. Zeroing in on Chinese takeout, she felt her stomach rumble in response.
"I know, feed you." she growled back, pulling up in front of her Savior for the evening.
Elizabeth's thoughts of dashing in and out were thwarted once she smelled the heavenly food. Shrugging, she ordered enough to feed an army... though reminded herself, if nothing else, it did heat up well the next day.
Grabbing her bags, she head home, an overwhelming desire to see Hudson invading her thoughts, until she remembered in the next second... someone else had her dog.
"Don't even know where my damn dog is..." she grumbled, pulling up in front of the dark house.
Wearily making her way up the stairs, Liz scowled back at the offending steps, for the little excursion had been a hideous one. Either she needed to add more cardio into her workout or those stairs were steeper than yesterday.
Dropping her purse and keys, she kicked her shoes aside, exhaling her relief.
Making a beeline for the couch, she plopped heavily into its welcoming cushions, lifting her feet to the table.
Quietly listening to the reassuring sounds of the house for a moment, Liz grabbed a container of food, then the remote control.
Flipping through the channels mechanically, her irritation grew until finally she recognized something watchable. The woman sighed blissfully...
"Ahh, Mr. Darcy..." she smiled, "a better welcome home than I expected."
Settling into the comfort of the couch, she nibbled at her food; intently focused on the delectable, brooding, and right now... quite deliciously wet, Colin Firth.
Maybe the day wasn't a complete loss after all.
An hour later, she jolted awake and upright to the incessant ringing of her phone.
Squinting her eyes away from the bright tv screen, Liz fumbled to open the phone... to the reassuring sound of his voice.
Red...
Assuring herself the man was fine, she enjoyed the short chat with Red... and a man called, Francis. His constant remarks were amusing, as was Red's genuine annoyance.
Red always seemed to surrounded himself with the most interesting people, to say the least.
Suggesting the older man get some rest, for he sounded exhausted; she wished him a good evening before ending the call... in higher spirits and ready for bed, herself.
Checking the doors and lights, Liz headed upstairs and headed to the bathroom. Standing under the pounding spray of her shower, the hot water beat down on her sore body, easing the aches of the day.
Grudgingly shutting it down, she finished her nightly routine before crawling between the sheets, moaning her relief. It felt like only seconds before her body molded to the bedding, her eyes drooping sleepily.
Glancing at the clock, the woman was surprised to find that she was actually getting to bed before midnight. An anomaly this week.
Yawning, she curled into the comfort of her bed, falling asleep moments later.
Her eyes popped open, her ears suddenly alert. Blinking her tired eyes, Liz looked at the clock and found only an hour had passed.
What the hell was she awake for then?
Stretching, Liz listened to the dark, quiet house... hearing nothing but silence and air being circulated.
That must have been it. She had just started using the air conditioner a couple days back and wasn't used to the sound yet.
Rolling to her side, she closed her legs together, an instance twinge infiltrating her body.
Not of pain, but arousal.
She hadn't felt that in a while.
Grasping her pillow closer, she snuggled into it, sighing heavily when the cloth of her shirt brushed against her tender breast. Even in the privacy of her own room, she was embarrassed to admit... the sensation felt really good.
"How hard up are you that your clothes turn you on?" she muttered her irritation, wiggling into a more comfortable position only to feel her arousal heighten.
She was surprised to find herself swollen and slick, her clit more than wanting of some attention.
Well, no matter. She'd just take the edge off, and go back to sleep.
Circling the peak of her sex, she increased the pressure on the bundle of nerves, inching closer to the desired relief.
Pinching and pulling her nipple, she jerked in response to the titillating sensation just as her last conversation with Red came to mind.
Floating in a sexual haze, visions of Red flashed in her mind. Everything from the way he dressed to how wonderful his cologne smelled inundated her mind.
"What the hell am I doing?" she whispered to herself. "Get him out of your head."
"Focus..." she squeezed her eyes shut, sliding a finger into her core, petting her insides.
Rolling her nipple and pressing her slim fingers harder against the pleasure center of her sex, Liz's stomach pitched the closer she teetered the edge of climax.
Rubbing her clitoris, she growled her frustration as she slick nub slipped from under her desperate fingers.
She missed the touch of a man's hands on her body.
Red's hands were warm, his fingers thick and strong. How did he touch a woman? Was he as gentle as she was accustomed or was he demanding? Was he teasing or attentive?
Rocking her hips, she felt the tell-tale signs she was nearing the peak of completion she desperately craved. The electric shocks vibrating in her clit and strain in her nipples intensified with each breath she took.
Shutting her mind down, she allowed her body dictate her next agenda...
Gritting her teeth, she growled her frustration into the pillow for the phone beside her rang... breaking her concentration.
"Damn it!" she muttered dejectedly, fighting harder for some sort of release. "Just a few more seconds," she squeezed her eyes tight, rocking harder against her tiring fingers, "please..."
The distraction fell thankfully silent, allowing her to refocus on Red's hand...
"Oh my God..." she gasped tightly, shoving her mound against her fingers, finally quaking and pulsing, her thighs shaking as the phone made its presence known, yet again.
Slapping her hand on the nightstand, Liz grabbed the phone, her mood certainly no better having only achieved an essence of what she might have.
Her fingers, slick and shaking, hit the answer button just as the phone dropped from her trembling hand, clattering loudly on the hardwood.
"Shit..." she panted her lost equilibrium, hanging over the side of the bed, fumbling for the object in the dark room.
"Sweetheart?" she could barely hear Red's tinny voice.
Grappling with the phone, she growled her annoyance as the damned thing slipped just beyond her reach each attempt.
"Lizzy?" the man called again. "Elizabeth!" he called out sternly just as she gripped the phone tight.
Hastily bringing it to her ear, Liz gulped breathlessly as the pulsing between her legs spiked, "... Red."
"Sweetheart, are you all right?" Red's voice was laced with concern.
"Yeah..." she took a shaky breath, pushing hard against her sex, getting her nerves under control. She swallowed hard clearing her throat a little, giving herself a second to collect her breath.
"I dropped the damned phone." she stated breathlessly. "What's up?" she asked a little too casually for one in the morning.
"You tell me?" he asked seriously. "Is something wrong?"
"What do you mean?" she asked shakily, not immediately following his line of thought.
"Is someone there with you?" he asked tightly.
"You mean like..." she blushed. "I mean..."
Oh, my... God! Did he think he called in the middle of her having sex with someone? Could he tell she'd just...
Oh God, what had just happened? Had she just masturbated thinking about... Red?
"Are you in danger?" he growled impatiently. "Can you talk freely?"
Jerking back against the headboard, Liz
Shocked from her previous thoughts, Liz jerked against the headboard, stammering. "I uh... what?"
"Elizabeth, no one is that winded picking up a damn phone." he replied, his tone clipped and focused. "I called before and you didn't answer, now this."
"Look, I was sleeping, the phone startled me," she explained, "...and I dropped the phone."
"I see..." the tone was expressionless.
She couldn't be sure, but she was almost positive the bastard was smiling.
"And you're alone?" he repeated.
"Yes, I'm alone." she snapped.
"You're shaking."
Elizabeth looked down at her hand, lifting the shaking hand.
How the hell did he know that?
"I most certainly am not?" she defended herself staunchly, clenching her fists tightly.
"I can hear it in your voice." he drawled slowly.
"I'm fine." she swallowed heavily. "Why are you calling?"
Red was quiet for a beat, then sighed. "I'll be at the Post Office at nine to hand over a new case."
"Didn't we already discuss this?" she asked.
"No," Red smiled at her barely held vexation. "I only said I'd come to the Post Office, not when."
"Oh, right..." she pursed her lips, "What is thi–" she hesitated, listening to the dark space.
The subtle whoosh of what sounded like a door opening caught her attention, demanding she remain silent.
"Liz–"
"Shh..." she hushed the man, straining to hear, her nerves jangling alarmingly. She heard a muted sound from Red's end. Then silence.
"Sorry, I thought I heard something." she apologized, finally allowing herself a breath. "Where w–"
"What did you hear?" he asked tightly.
"I uh... nothing, I guess." she shrugged mentally.
"What did you hear?" he repeated, stressing his words.
"I thought I heard a door open... or something." she shrugged it off. "It was nothi–"
"You didn't set your alarm." he stated, knowing very well what the answer would be. Elizabeth was horrible where her own safety was concerned.
"I... don't remember." she confessed weakly.
"Set it," he fairly demanded.
Liz could almost see his jaw working into a frenzy with that one expression and knew he wouldn't let up until she got out of her warm bed to set the damn thing.
And why she just didn't hang up on him, was a mystery. Or was it? If she hung up, he'd just send his goons over to check on her.
There was also the fact... she didn't really want to hang up yet. But why?
Sighing heavily, she huffed her annoyance, rolling from the bed.
"My feet are cold." she complained... childishly.
"So put some socks on." he countered, listening as he perceived the small feet clumping grouchily to the keypad. He smiled slowly, because he knew she was punching those numbers as hard as humanly possible.
"Happy now?" her tone was more than snarky.
"Stop pouting," he scolded. "Especially since all I did was care for your well being." he turned his mouth away from the phone, nodding his consent to a patiently waiting Dembe.
The large man turned on his heel instantly attending to the task assigned.
Liz's shoulders slumped, her tone filled with chagrin, "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to sound so bitchy."
"You're tired," Red brushed off her rudeness, just as he always did.
Come to think of it, he very rarely ever responded to her apologies except to make an excuse for her, just as he had this moment.
"Where is your weapon?" he enquired.
"Beside me." she reached over, pulling it closer, yawning. "Look, I think I just heard the central air kick on and I'm not used t–" she gasped as the sound of beeps disturbed the quiet, shocking her to the core.
Staring transfixed at the wide open portal to her bedroom, Liz's nervous system suddenly went on high-alert... though remained frozen, unsure of her next move.
"Lock your door!" Red demanded, having heard the alarm being disarmed from inside the house.
Red's eyes flew to Dembe who was speaking with Elizabeth's security team on the ground. The man cursed the fact that he himself, was thirty-thousand feet in the air.
"What's wrong?" Francis sat upright from his comfortable position having noted his friend's features and body language. The young man fell silent when Red held up a brisk hand.
Grabbing her gun, Liz sprang from the bed, her training kicking in. Rushing for the door, she placed herself flat against the wall, every sense she possessed attuned to the sounds of her home.
"Lock the damn door!" Red brusquely repeated the demand. "Do not move from that room."
"Someone is in my house!" she hissed, straining to hear the intruder over Red's controlled breathing.
"And security is a minute away," he snapped. "I would rather they not shoot you."
Closing the door, she locked it securely... waiting impatiently for what, she wasn't sure. Wrapping her arms tight about herself, she barely warded off the cold permeating her body and mind.
Placing her ear to the door, she felt her body numb when the sound of quick footsteps rushed across the hardwood floor downstairs.
"Are your guys inside my house?" she whispered huskily.
"Not yet," Red advised curtly.
"I heard footsteps." she hoped her voice did not belie her growing fear.
"How close?" was his only concern.
"Downstairs."
Red relayed the information to Dembe, who relayed it forward.
"Back door, Red." Liz guided the man's efforts having heard the sound quite distinctly.
"Back alley," Red orchestrated effortlessly, his voice an ever calming entity in Liz's world.
Normally, she would feel foolish; being an armed and trained FBI agent... standing about waiting for help to arrive.
But realized the person had left the premises... meaning Red's men had a better chance locating the intruder.
"I hear a car engine," she related, "... he's peeling out." she rushed to the window, only catching sight of the brake lights disappearing into the night.
Red muttered aside, keeping abreast of the situation.
"What's going on?" Liz stated.
"My man saw a car speeding away from your area, he followed, got a make of the car." Red relayed. The man fell silent a few moments, then cursed. "He lost the car in the alleys two miles over."
She knew the area of which he spoke. It wasn't just a fork in the rode, it was a web of offshoots. She really freaking hated DC streets sometimes.
"Who knows your alarm code?" the man turned his attention fully back to the woman.
"I changed the codes after Tom left," she said. "No one knows my codes...not even Aram."
It was ridiculously simple to break the codes on today's security devices, especially for someone as skilled as Tom. Red knew as much, but there was no need to worry the woman at this time.
He would have the matter looked into in the morning, along with having her house swept for cameras, just on the off chance.
"You're about to hear your door open, it's only security." Red notified.
"Should I go down?" she offered.
"The back door is unlocked, Lizzy." the man reminded peevishly. "Stay where the hell you are... they're going to sweep the house and make sure it's empty."
"And I so wanted to sleep tonight," she quipped feebly.
"And you will," he promised. "There will be guards outside tonight."
"Those poor men." she sighed heavily.
"This is a normal shift for them, Lizzy."
Sitting down on the bed, she stretched her legs out, tossing the still warmed blankets over herself... staring out into the darkened room.
"Lay down," Red soothed calmly. "Just relax."
Pulling the blankets higher under her chin, she listened to the quiet chatter of Red speaking to Dembe and men moving around her house... totally reassured now.
"Is her door locked?" she heard Red ask some unknown individual.
"My damn door is loc–" she narrowed her eyes when she heard the handle jiggle, then Red scoff quietly.
"It's a wonder," he replied. "She never listens to me."
"I do too!" she complained around her yawn.
"Name one time you've done what I said the first go round." he asked, a smile in his voice, relaxed now that his men were there protecting her.
She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it shut. She stared off into the darkness, trying hard to come up with a suitable answer.
"That's what I thought." Red grinned, pleased with his results. "Put your phone on speaker and sit it beside you. I'll wake you if needed."
"My bill will be outrageous." she muttered.
"I'll pay the damn bill," Red exhaled in exasperation. "And thank you for proving my point, again." he chuckled quietly. "Now, do it."
She did as asked and rolled to her side, yawning again, listening to Red's evened breathing.
"They're watching, you can rest." he reassured.
"You sleep too..." she yawned.
"I'll rest." he smiled softly, listening to her snuffle quietly as she drifted.
"Promise?" she mumbled sleepily, zoning off into his translucent voice talking, feeling herself float into a relaxed zen state.
"I promise," Red's eyes softened. "Sleep, sweetheart," he coaxed, "...I'm here." he whispered quietly, as Lizzy's breathing deepened as she fell into a peaceful sleep.
After a four-day break, the agents had caught up on paperwork and other necessary housekeeping that kept their tight ship running smoothly.
The quiet of the last day had lifted their spirits and, as they entered the late afternoon, even the dour Agent Ressler seemed in a jovial mood.
The sound of the elevator descending had some in the area tensing. All eyes turned expectantly. After Anslo Garrick had breached the site, it paid to be cautious.
After a few moments, the door opened, then a familiar voice called out, "Honey, I'm home."
Aram and Samar smiled their relief it was friend, not foe. Ressler's face grimaced, his jovial mood a thing of the past.
Liz smiled sympathetically at her partner. They all knew of his hot date tonight and had been wishing nothing would hamper his plans.
Unbeknownst to Ressler, the entire Post Office placed bets on whether or not he would score, and any info gained was a hot topic around the water cooler.
Red and Dembe came striding into the pen, as cocky and blasé as ever.
Scanning them both for new wounds or physical ailments, Liz relaxing mentally and physically when she found none.
As she watched Red swaggering toward them, grinning as though he had not a care in the world, she wasn't sure why she had been so worried after the phone call had ended yesterday.
For a brief second, their eyes met and the façade he wove about himself dropped completely, replaced by a slight scowl of concern, a questioning look appearing on the handsome face.
Liz shook off his unasked questions with a brief gesture of her hand, her eyes reassuring the man all was well. Having difficulty holding the penetrating gaze, she lowered her eyes, shifting about almost anxiously.
He inclined his head briefly in response.
She cleared her throat gently, busying herself with paperwork she had already addressed.
Reddington's mouth curved sensually, sensing the reason behind the woman's sudden awkward state. He gallantly gave her a reprieve putting his private thoughts aside for the moment.
Although his security team had assured Elizabeth's safety, both last night and her arrival to the Blacksite itself... Reddington felt better after seeing the woman himself.
The fact that she trusted in him to protect her was a moment of epic proportions for a host of reasons.
The one upper most in his mind at this exact moment in time had shocked him. Not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination.
The whole episode itself had been so unlike Elizabeth Keen. A pleasant change, to say the least.
Red replayed the events as they had happened, his mind wandering briefly. A minute smile touched his lips.
He allowed himself just a second to imagine that he was hearing that breathy voice in his ear once again, not through the phone, but as he lay next to her.
The sweet moment was shattered by the incessant ringing of a thousand phones. He grimaced irritably, brought back all too soon from a very pleasant visual.
Reddington shifted, trying to retain his train of thought.
Surely she didn't see anything wrong with self pleasuring. Aside from being perfectly healthy and an activity he very much loved watching, it was a need.
For a beautiful young woman such as Elizabeth, just hitting her prime, it was an incessant need. Especially with everything going on in her life... the stress relief, the rush of endorphins, the high of orgasm...
It was just what Lizzy needed even if she wasn't aware.
Its effects seemed to be filtering over into today. They had silently communicated and it had felt as comfortable and natural, as it was between he and Dembe.
A week ago she would have avoided the evening's events, acted as though they had never happened.
The subtle gesture she had offered spoke volumes. There would be further discussion on the matter, simply at a more opportune time.
He was satisfied with the outcome so far.
"She should masturbate more often..." Red mumbled to himself, but obviously not low enough when Dembe's mouth turned upward at the corner, having heard the innocuous remark.
Red shared a small tilt of his head with his friend, then shrugged as if to say, Well, she should.
The man scanned the group, frowning when he reached Ressler's pouting features.
"Why the long face?" Red pointed his chin is the strawberry blonds' direction.
"He has a date tonight." Aram helpfully supplied.
"You can always back out if she's that bad, Donald." Red looked confused. "Tell her someone died."
"He wanted to go," Liz shrugged her slender shoulders. "...but now that you're here. "
"Have no fear Donald." the man smiled, whipping the fedora from his head with a flourish. "If you're positive you still wish to go." Red shrugged.
Donald eyed the felon warily. "You didn't come here to give us a new name from the Blacklist?"
"I did." Red held his smile when the young man deflated. "But he will not be state side for another two days. I am merely here to give warning."
"Do we have a name?" Liz asked.
"A killer for hire. A psychopath who calls himself Carver." Red sat on the stool, spinning it in Lizzy's direction. "You've probably seen his handiwork throughout the States, but hadn't connected the modus operandi."
"Then what am I looking for exactly, Mr. Reddington?" Aram asked meekly his hands poised over the keyboard.
"Carver strips the flesh from his victims, usually hanging the pieces along a handy line of rope, like putting out the laundry. Even uses the clothes' pins." Red's mouth pinched with distaste. "I'm not a fan of his work. After you've stripped a line or two, if they haven't talked, they're not going to. He finishes out of pure enjoyment."
Having seen some of the worst of which people were capable, Red was surprised to note some of the faces present exhibited a range of emotions. Some squeamish, some disturbed, all taken aback by the information given.
"This is a man who takes extreme pride and delight in his work. He ends his 'slice and dice' by carving the initials, CRVR into the victims flesh."
Red scratched his head. "I have to wonder," he had to admit, "if you've gone to the trouble of going that far, why not add the vowels?" he scoffed at the stupidity of it all.
"And you know he's coming here, how?" Ressler asked.
"He's taken out two of my associates in the last few weeks," Red said. "It only makes sense that he'd come for Edward."
"And why is that?" Liz paused in her writing. "And who is this Edward?"
"Besides Edward being a weasel of a human being, it's a food chain." Red explained. "Edward is somewhere near the bottom but a vital connection."
"And where are you on this chain?" Liz had to ask.
"Sweetheart, I'm always on top." Red leered playfully.
Samar's full lips curved into an inviting grin.
Liz tried very hard to not be amused, "So why didn't he come after you?"
"He wasn't hired to come after me." Red waved his hand nonchalantly, "These men are loose ends and need to be erased. It could be a contract gone south, an action not performed to the specifications of the hiring party. Any and all of the above."
"Who are these guys in the grand scheme of things?" Liz queried.
"You mean their specialty?" Red assumed. "Victor was receiving, Edward is shipping, Carlos was money, the go between."
"Of what exactly?" Ressler asked.
"Drugs, arms, miscellaneous merchandise." Red offered an indifferent shrug. "They moved what needed to be moved. If they were paid enough, I'm sure they weren't discriminatory."
Not having limited his search parameters, had slowed Aram's success greatly.
"I think I've found something," the nervous young man piped in, popping pictures up on the screen's overhead. "I'm still running a search to see how far back this signature goes."
Liz looked up at the grotesque pictures, grimacing. "How did no one see they were connected?"
Red studied the photographs closely, his innate sense of humanity coming to the fore. He glanced away, disheartened.
"If someone didn't enter it into the database correctly, there would have been an oversight." Red said. "He changes it up each time in some small way."
"Do you know any of these people, Reddington?" Ressler demanded.
"Thirteen of the twenty." Red refused to look back at the pictures behind him.
"But you don't know the others?" Cooper was curious having entered the Pen a few minutes back.
"These were husbands, wives, bosses." Red picked up his fedora, smoothing the rim. "Normal people, personal hits. They weren't even felons or criminals." the man's shoulders slumped slightly as he crossed the room, "Looks like he didn't discriminate about where the work came from either."
"All right people, let's get this sorted." Cooper said, limping to the clear boards, tacking up a picture as a starting point.
Three hours later and the agents had a working time line, not that it would really be of any use in the following days.
The FBI way of doing things; the wasted time on proper procedures, the routines, gathering evidence for court... it made Red want to vomit. Often, Reddington had rethought his affiliation with such people or such a system, rather.
He knew why he didn't leave, but still found the tedium unbearable at times.
He had sat out of the way, rereading War and Peace. It seemed appropriate, since the length of the book was equal to the amount of time misspent.
At least he had filled them with scrumptious food which everyone had seemed to greatly appreciate. Such a break fed the body, true, but also the mind.
Dembe amused himself with New York Times crossword puzzles. He originally had tried to emulate his Mentor, using only ink. Red smiled to himself, for the man now had downgraded to pencil.
Cooper's loud voice, stilled the scurrying agents. "Now people, we're moving on to... "
"Oh, for God's sake Harold! Let them go." Red said smoothly, not looking up from his book. "It's Friday night. Ressler has a hot date. How often does that happen?"
"Reddington," Cooper objected strenuously, "we have a lot to do here."
"All of that," Red pointed to the pictures wrapped around three walls, "is not going to help you catch him."
"Then why did we do it?" Cooper asked disgustedly
"I don't know why you're upset with me," Red sipped at his tea. "I only said, take a look at his work, not make a book report out of it." he shut the book gently.
"Not all is lost," he waved over the data nonchalantly, "you'll need this for the courts," he muttered quietly, "assuming you get Carver there at all."
"You have no faith in us Red?" Coopers tone mellowed, having heard the remark.
"I get the feeling that he's not a 'take me alive' type of guy." Red stood. "You may get him, but it won't be a walk in the park."
Red ticked off his fingers, "I gave you the flight number, time of arrival, a very detailed description of the man... " he seemed at a loss. "And you lost him? What did you do, send Ressler?"
Ressler weakly defended himself, "Navabi was there too."
"You two shouldn't broadcast that fact." Red laughed, holding his stomach. "Donald, you constantly exceed my expectations."
He turned his attention to the business at hand. "Edward, is not as of yet, in the state, which might buy us a couple days."
"Carver won't track him down?" Liz asked.
"Carver has already been paid to do the job. He'll bide his time." Red supplied. "If you're lucky, he'll take a couple days off, go sightseeing."
"The cherry blossoms are in bloom this time of year." Aram helpfully piped in.
Everyone glanced curiously at the man. Reddington waved his hands expressively, shutting his eyes in remembrance. "Ah, the fragrance. So wonderful."
Cooper chuckled the tension from the room.
"You don't think he'll take on another job?" Liz got things back on track.
"I don't know the man's complete social calendar." Red confessed. "He's highly in demand."
"Do you know where he might go to ground?" Ressler said.
"Our best bet right now is finding and tailing Edward." Red countered.
"Who knows who could die while we're waiting for this Edward to show up."
Red could feel all their frustrations, especially Liz's.
"We'll find him." he reassured, knowing full well there could be a high head count by the time they were done.
Red Reddington was damned frustrated.
His men were down to the last popular flop on the list, and they had turned up nothing.
Red was the best at making people disappear, so not being able to find someone as despicable as Carver left an itch under his skin that wouldn't go away.
The filthy bastard may not be in the city, granted, but his men were the best at their jobs. They knew people who knew people. With a tri-state search going on for the psychopath, they had nothing...
When he came face to face with the son of a bitch, and he would eventually, Red knew he would definitely have the asshole questioned in depth by Brimley.
Finished with his business for the day, Red smiled at the thought of seeing Elizabeth.
After their encounter the previous day, he found his thoughts straying her way more often than not. Not an unusual occurrence, he knew.
But his thoughts were of a more pleasant nature, for obvious reasons.
"Do you wish for me to call Elizabeth?" Dembe asked from the driver's seat.
Red focused his eyes to the front, shaking his head. "I've grown so fond of the annoyance that flashes across her lovely face when I show up unexpectedly."
Dembe chuckled softly as they turned the corner, inclining his head to the right of the street. Red glanced over, watching Elizabeth and Samar walking down the sidewalk to a popular bistro.
"I can turn the car around so you can see these facial expressions delivered in their natural habitat."
"Circle the block and come back," Red's tone changed from playful to serious.
Dembe did as instructed.
"I saw Tom." Red supplied.
Dembe looped around carefully so as to not draw attention, coming slowly back up the street. He slipped into an empty slot, leaving the engine running.
Both men watched Tom Keen's progress as the slimy bastard paralleled the women's movements, then stop when they entered the delicatessen.
"I doubt, Raymond," Dembe said, "that he will approach, seeing as Agent Navabi is with her."
Red picked up his cell phone, punching in a number. "I think Dembe, I can kill two birds with one stone and still get that irritation I so enjoy."
The bistro answered, Red described the two women and placed his order. He put his hand over the speaker, "Dembe, what would you like to eat?"
Dembe never took his eyes off Tom Keen, replying casually, "My usual, hold the pickles."
Red sat back after the call, getting more comfortable in the seat, watching the women through the large plate glass windows of the establishment.
At length, the cashier at the counter slid a large bag across to Elizabeth Keen, waving away her attempt to pay. Red chuckled lowly watching the woman's head dip in defeat. She turned to the window, scanning rapidly.
Having found his location, she flipped him the bird then turned away, but not before Red saw the grin spreading across her face.
Red's chuckle turned into a genuine laugh as Tom Keen made a hasty exit down a convenient alley way.
"He thought she was flipping him off." Red saw the humor in the situation, leaning closer to the window to get a better view, then muttered to himself.
"But that gesture was just for me." his tone was laced with pride.
Dembe slid out into the light traffic easily, pulling up along the curb just as the women exited the restaurant.
Grasping Samar's elbow, Elizabeth directed them to their ride. She automatically headed for the backseat, leaving Samar to the front. Dembe seemed to appreciate the gesture.
"Ladies, what a pleasant surprise running into you here." Red said cheerfully as they each took their respective seats.
"Aren't you just the sweetest stalker ever, buying our lunch." Liz grinned placing the large bag between them.
He offered a charming smile, "Dembe, the park."
Sitting together at a picnic table, Red was surprised Dembe actually joined them, placing himself opposite Red's position... and of course, next to Samar.
Both shifted their eyes absently, intent in their watchful surveillance... both men alert and cautious.
"Yeah," Liz grimaced, picking small pieces off her sandwich, "the fresh air was needed after seeing more of Carver's portfolio."
"I'm only sorry that we have to go back so soon." Samar smiled openly at Dembe.
Having cleaned up their wrappers, Red escorted the women back to the car. Each man respectively opening and seating the occupants inside.
As they neared the Post Office, Liz leaned, speaking conspiratorially. "Is something wrong?"
Red's eyes trained on the back of Samar's beautiful black hair, remaining silent.
"Samar," Elizabeth took the hint, "I shouldn't be too long. I don't think? Why don't you go on ahead?"
Offering Dembe an alluring smile, Samar walked beside her escort before entering the building.
"Tom was following you." Red stated bluntly.
Elizabeth's head whipped around, "I don't know when he started or for how long he's been tailing you." Red answered the unasked question.
"Can't you ask one of the guys you have following me?"
"I don't have anyone on you." Red pulled out his phone, dialing. "You told me to back off so I did, against my better judgement." the man spoke into the phone brusquely, "Resume normal operations pertaining to Ms. Keen." he nodded shortly.
"Yes, thank you." he hung up, returning his stare to her. "I want you to stay with me for a couple of days."
"Why would I do that?" she asked neutrally.
"Because you had no idea you were being followed." Red continued, motioning curtly. "Because your house has terrible security." she rolled her eyes, as he continued. "Because you aren't ready to face him yet."
She stopped, having to confront the truth, her spirits sinking. "I don't think I'll ever be."
"I think you will, but until then," he advised gently, "stay with me until we get your security upgraded."
He watched Elizabeth battle her demons, sensing her will weaken.
"He hurt you last time. The bastard held a gun to your head." It was reminded. "Please don't make me come over to find he's done worse. Especially when it can be prevented."
Liz looked at him, astounded by his forthrightness, then nodded. "Okay... "
Accompanying her into the Post Office, Red stayed out of her way, genuinely trying to avoid annoying the woman for a change. After making preparation to update her security system, he waited patiently about for her work day to end.
He had gained her trust, and he wasn't going to do anything to shatter the fragile peace.
She approached him tentatively, "Everything is wrapped up for now." she crinkled her nose, "Would it be an imposition to swing by my place to get a few things?"
He took hold of her arm, causing her to hastily grab her bag as he guided her through the hallways to the elevator.
"What exactly are they doing at the house and how long will it take, do you know?" she asked, adjusted the strap of her purse.
"Probably three days, I'm guessing." Red pushed the elevator button. "The technical side would bore you to tears. I know I had a good cry over the phone when Silas was trying to explain it all to me." he patted her hand reassuringly.
Her brow furrowed deeply, a thought striking her, "What about Hudson? He's staying with a friend, but I can't impose forever."
"You may bring him if you wish."
His response actually surprised her. He didn't seem the type to be fond of dogs or any pet. "Thank you very much." she replied hesitantly.
Her thoughts returned to their previous conversation, "Three days?" She questioned. "Don't you think that's a little overkill for a new alarm system?"
"For what we're up against... it's not enough."
Arriving at her place a short time later, Red walked behind Lizzy until she reached the top step of the brownstone.
Fumbling in her purse for the keys, she gave Red perplexed look when his hand stilled her movements.
Dembe stood silently a few feet away, his eyes vigilant.
Quickly silencing Elizabeth natural inquiry, Red waggled his fingers until the woman handed over her keys. Silently placing the key in the lock, he turned it, slowly easing the door open.
Dembe was suddenly at the man's side, all but pushing the woman from the vicinity.
Red's arm snaked out preventing Elizabeth her intended movement, holding her back behind the safety of his bulk as both men crept inside, weapons at-the-ready.
The stocky man inched around the doorframe, just seeing the leg of someone fleeing the room. Rushing forward, he fired off a shot, the bullet splintering the doorframe where the assailant had been.
Red motioned Dembe forward.
Both men headed toward the back of the house, quickly but cautiously. The back door stood wide open and Dembe dashed from the premises into the silent dusk of a day just ending.
Liz whispered, "You've got ears like a damn bat."
Red holstered his weapon, "Are you all right?"
She nodded in compliance.
"Look around," Red advised. Stepping to the door, he checked the lock, then closed the door. "Is anything out of place or missing that you can see?"
The woman walked the room slowly, "I don't see anything out of the norm." She turned back at one point. "Was it Tom?"
The man did not bother replying, "Don't worry about it right now. If there's anything in here worth finding my men will secure it later."
Dembe returned, a silent shake of his head indicating Tom Keen had vanished into the night.
Red clapped the man on the shoulder. "You're getting old, Dembe. You could have scaled that wall two months ago easily." he teased. "No more Twinkies for you."
Dembe raised unamused brows then glanced pointedly at Red's developing waistline. It was Red's turn to frown.
"You know I can't resist Baklava." he turned to a pensive Elizabeth Keen, "Lizzy, do you think I'm fat?"
The woman, in no mood to reply obviously, frowned.
"Let's get you packed shall we."
"Aren't you glad God created take out?" Red handed her a bag of food, shifting about the spacious backseat of the car.
Absently taking the bag, Liz glanced out the window at the two story stone façade of a beautiful Victorian house.
Red stooped down a tad following her line of sight. "My newest acquisition." he turned his head, his mouth suddenly very close to hers. "I enjoy owning things."
Liz felt the warm breath fan her face, his breath smelling of cinnamon. Ever the gentleman, Red handed over her purse before sliding from the car to come around and assist her from the vehicle.
"You go ahead," he motioned to the well-lit walkway, "we'll be right there."
Stumbling a bit, she walked the beautifully etched walkway to the inviting entry lined with fragrant blooms. She started visibly when a long-haired, bearded man suddenly stepped from the corner, looming large in the shadows.
"Jesus!" she automatically reached for her gun, her purse falling from her fingers, landing with a heavy thud on the ground.
The sudden shot of adrenaline erased the delicious aromas drifting upward from the bag swinging safe and free on her arm.
"Really, Silas?" Red stepped up behind her, easing her tension with a gentle stroke of his hand down her back.
"Lizzy, this is your new bodyguard, Silas." Red held his smile. "How's he doing so far?"
Liz dropped her weapon to her side, exhaling her exasperation.
Stepping around the trio, Dembe opened the door, sending the new Head of Security a doubtful glance.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the bulky man smiled gently to ease her discomfort. "I'm used to lurking about. I'll do better in the future, I promise."
Clutching the bag of food to her chest, Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm her heart and frayed nerves.
"She's a little jumpy, Silas." Red explained. "She had an unexpected intruder in her home."
"Was it you?" Silas smiled at the woman, who laughed the tension away.
"How you paint me." Red scolded with his look. "Silas, could you have someone grab the bags."
Guiding the woman into the spacious foyer, Red unburdened Elizabeth of her load before crossing to a nearby bar, pouring a vintage Merlot.
Dembe reappeared from the kitchen, loaded down with plates and cutlery.
Following Red into the enormous dining area, Liz's eyes settled on one interesting object after another... absently reaching for the glass of wine Red offered.
"This will steady your nerves," he took a mouthful before handing it over to her, "...and mine."
Pulling containers free, Red wasted no time spooning out decidedly large portions, sliding a plate her way.
"Red," Liz leaned, a thousand questions coming to the fore. "I was wondering... "
"Stop thinking." the man held up a fork. "Just eat."
Liz sat back looking glumly at her food for all of two seconds, concentrating fully on the gourmet selection before her, before diving in with a relish.
Throughout the meal, both men exchanged amused glances at the enthusiasm with which the woman consumed her food.
"Would you like dessert Lizzy?" Red was well pleased with her appetite.
The woman looked down at her empty plate. Good grief. Had she eaten all of that?! A mischievous thought hit her.
Holding her plate aloft, she took on a child like innocence, batting coy lashes. "May I have some more please, sir?" She asked using her very best English accent.
Throwing his head back, Red laughed heartedly, shoving a container with a careless hand. "Here you little waif... enjoy."
Dembe shook his head in open amusement, returning to his meal.
Sticking her fork in the gooey offering, Liz brought the bite to her lips, smelling the decadence long before it reached her tongue. She closed her eyes, a sweet sound building in her chest.
"Nirvana," she whispered sacredly, savoring another bite. "My hips are going to hate me later." she suddenly didn't give a shit.
"That sound you just made gave me an erection." Red mentioned in passing as he took another bite of his food.
Dembe chuckled appreciatively from the opposite side of the table.
Liz's mouth fell open but then the woman waved her fork in the air, signifying, I'll get to you later, instantly returning to her glorious piece of heaven.
"Who needs flowers or diamonds, Dembe," Red wanted to know, "when you can stuff them with chocolate mousse fudge brownie cake."
Elizabeth Keen docilely followed Red Reddington throughout the luxurious surroundings of their temporary lodging.
Opening the doorway, Red stepped aside, ushering her in.
Liz's eyes swept her new surroundings, her mouth falling gently agape.
Though astoundingly beautiful, the room was cozy... welcoming. Sitting opposite one another was a gothic four-post canopy bed and marble fireplace. A magnificent ocean scape painting portraying a full-mast ship surrounded by stormy skies and tempestuous waves hung over the mantle, immediately drawing Liz's attention.
Liz had difficulty pulling her eyes from the strange beauty of the painting.
"I stole that painting... do you like it?"
Elizabeth scowled at the man, never quite sure when he was being serious. "Don't tell me things like that... but I do love it."
A ladies desk sat to the right of the fireplace, an oversized stuffed chair sat awaiting its occupant.
Red had disappeared momentarily into another room. Seconds later she heard the inviting rush of taps being turned to full on. The man reappeared instantly, a smile on his lips. He waved an imperious hand.
"Towels are in there." he indicated a side cupboard. "Along with a nice clean fluffy robe, stolen from the Hyatt just last week." his façade had not cracked one iota. The woman sighed heavily, her head dropping slightly for the unnecessary rejoinder.
"Dembe is upstairs, and I'm across the hall." he closed the shutters, shutting out the night. "Divide and conquer. That's my motto . . . actually its Dembe's, but I stole it."
The man stepped closer, his eyes softening, placing his hands on her arms "Take a long relaxing bath, Lizzy." he rubbed her soothingly. "After today, if anyone deserves it, you do."
She smiled at him as his hands fell away. "You could tempt Satan himself."
"I have him on payroll." he turned slowly, halting by the bedside. Red lifted his eyes, "Drink the wine sweetheart... you're tense."
She took quick stock of her body language finding his statement true. She dropped her shoulders, rolling her head back and forth as her hand squeezed her neckline to ease the growing headache.
"What the hell does he want?" she had to ask the question. "Why can't he just leave me alone?"
Red did not pretend to misunderstand. "Tom Keen is a sociopath. You told him, no." he shrugged stocky shoulders. "His job was to get the Fulcrum, he failed. Two very wrong things in his world."
Short and to the point. Sometimes she appreciated it, but only sometimes.
"I used to love that house. When I bought it, it was mine. My home. Now," she sighed, "now I don't want to go there. I don't want to be there... I hate it."
Reaching, Red pushed the hair off her should. "No big decisions tonight. You're safe. You're secure. Tonight just, let it go... trust me."
Handing the woman her wine, Red pushed her towards the oasis awaiting her. "Soak until you shrivel, then sleep."
"You don't have to twist my arm." she absently unbuttoned the first three buttons of her silk blouse. Kicking her heels aside, her mind already settling into a relax mode.
"Nothing can harm you here." Red's voice soothed her.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, he leaned into the doorframe, blowing out a breath. He shut his eyes, pushing away the vision of her half-undone shirt and that scrumptious glance of pale skin.
Forcing his breathing to calm, Red shook his head slightly for his lack of control, exiting the bedroom.