Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children
Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca
Disclaimers and other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Phillip and James Spaulding, Rick Bauer, Blake, Kevin, Jason, and Clarissa Marler, Reva Shayne, and Maureen "Maury" and Matt Reardon are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena Kundera, Bianca Montgomery, Kendall Hart Slater, Zach and Ian Slater, Erica Kane, Jackson, Lily, and Reggie Montgomery, Greenlee Smythe, Maggie and Frankie Stone, and Jake Martin, along with the fictional company, Fusion belong to ABC/Disney and Prospect Park. Group The original characters of Detective Sargent Langston Malloy, her mother Carrigan (Carrie) McKenna Malloy and her brother Quinn, Attorney Danika Kováč, Judge Bennett Thomas, Erick Slater, and Franceska "Cheska" and Stone Martin are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other person or entity. The dialogue, settings, and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Many thanks to my friend and favorite FFW, WickedWanda926, and my friend newfan64 for the edit on this one. I appreciate you both very much. On a related note, I have made some significant changes to the text in this update since their last edit, and thus, any mistakes contained herein are solely my responsibility.
Rating: This section of Chapter 16 is rated NC-17 for colorful language and overt sexual content.
My plan is to update each weekend between now and the Fourth of July, which is when the majority of this chapter takes place—July 4, 2009. It is my hope to give Otalia—and all of you—the Independence Day we all wanted back in 2009, but were cheated out of because TPTB at P&G were such asshats.
I hope y'all continue to enjoy!
Kimberly
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May 2009
"When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don't even have to kiss to have fireworks go off."
— Lisa Schroeder, I Heart You, You Haunt Me
Chapter 16.2 – A Few Fireworks of Our Own:
Saturday, July 4, 2009… Bennett Thomas's Residence—10:00 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"Whew!" Bennett exclaimed breathlessly, as she slumped back down onto their bed, her skin shimmering with the aftereffects of their lovemaking. "I'd like to see the Bauer's top that for fireworks."
Doris's grin said she was rather pleased with herself. "That might get them arrested."
Bennett laughed, and pulled Doris down on top of her. Their sweat-soaked bodies glided easily against one another, as Doris's thigh slipped between Bennett's legs. "I think we need another shower," she commented.
"Seems to be an endless cycle," Doris remarked with a teasing grin. "Maybe we should shower separately this time."
The expression on Bennett's face suggested otherwise. The image her mind held of them in the shower was of her on her knees, pleasuring DJ with her mouth and tongue, as she watched the warm water cascading over the smooth curve of her breasts, the taut muscles of her stomach, and firm thighs. It had her hot and hard in an instant, and already begging for release. How could I possibly want you again so soon?
But she did.
As if reading Bennett's mind, Doris leaned close, kissing her tenderly. "You're not alone in the wanting," she whispered.
"How did you…?"
"I know you," Doris said simply. And she knew they were far from finished.
Shifting slightly to one side, she slipped a hand between their bodies. Finding Bennett, she lightly stroked along slick folds, teasing the edges of Bennett's still-engorged clitoris, recreating the frenzy of desire that had exploded there only moments before. It pulsed beneath her fingertips, a fierce energy, begging to be released.
A low groan ripped from Bennett's lungs. "Jesus, DJ! Put your mouth on me—now," she demanded.
A devilish grin hijacked Doris's face. She didn't need to be told twice. Following Bennett's command, she slid lower on the bed, settling her shoulders between Bennett's thighs. Lightly, she kissed her.
Bennett growled, her hips bucking.
Gingerly spreading her open, Doris kissed her again, this time, more deeply. Her practiced tongue teased lightly at Bennett's opening, flicking just far enough inside to excite the sensitive nerve endings at her entrance. "Mm…" she moaned softly, rubbing her nose against Bennett's clitoris, as she dipped her tongue inside yet again, teasing. "I love French-kissing your pussy."
Bennett loved it too! "DJ, please!" she begged, one hand clutching the sheets, the other tangled, tightening, in the hair at the base of Doris's neck. "I'm… I'm so… Do something—please!"
The words died on her tongue, replaced by a raucous howl, as Doris returned to her, this time taking Bennett fully into the warmth of her mouth. It wouldn't take much, and Doris knew that. She teased and tugged, but only for a moment before biting down, and then sucking her hard.
Svelte hips jerked at the sensation, Bennett's nipples tightening without even being touched, and then her vision dimmed, and she exploded in Doris's mouth. Her clitoris throbbed and twitched, and her nipples ached from the surge of pleasure that coursed through her veins from one erogenous zone to the other, and back again.
A hoarse moan echoed from Bennett's lungs, as the neurons kept firing, sending surge after surge of white-hot pleasure racing through her body. And then she was pushing at Doris's head. It was so achingly good, but it was too much. Any more, and she might just self-combust!
But Doris remained. She knew better. Possessively, she held Bennett in her mouth, suckling lightly now, building on the release that still pulsed against her tongue, taking her higher still. With her hands, she nudged at the backs of Bennett's thighs, urging her to bend her knees.
When Bennett complied, Doris surged forward; a ravenous hunger overtaking her, she bit down again, as she entered her with a force neither of them realized she possessed. With each thrust, she slid deeper, filling Bennett to overflowing, even as she feasted on her throbbing flesh.
Within moments, Bennett came again, this time with the force so great her entire being was enraptured. And then there was nothing but the hot, tingling sensation that spread throughout her body, and the shards of light that flashed behind her eyelids, as her body quaked in glorious release.
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Bauer Barbecue—12:30 p.m. Central Daylight Time
The afternoon sun shone brightly, warming the July air to the point of being sultry. Typical for the high summer holiday in the Midwest. Only the presence of a light southwestern breeze made the heat bearable—and then, only if one had the fortitude to dress for an afternoon in the inferno known as Midwestern humidity. It seemed that most did. Either that or they'd grown so accustomed to the heat and humidity that it ceased to bother them, because as Olivia glanced around at the hodge-podge gathering of Springfield residents, none of them seemed to be phased by it. Even Alan, dressed as usual in a suit and tie, didn't seem to mind.
She wondered briefly where Phillip was lurking. And then she set the worry aside—a promise she'd made to Natalia—and turning her attention to the feast that spread out across two full-length folding tables, set beneath a tent canopy—suitably festooned in the requisite red, white, and blue—she grabbed two sets of plastic silverware, wrapped them in napkins that matched the festive décor of the day, and quickly settled them in the front pocket of her khaki shorts.
Taking two equally colorful plates from the stack, she set about filling them with all sorts of delectable items—barbecue pork steak, potato salad, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, and assorted summer fruits—fresh strawberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, honey dew, and pineapple. And then she went in search of Natalia.
She paused and smiled, watching Emma, Maury Reardon, and Clarissa Marler dunking one another in the pool, as Matt watched over them from a lounge chair nearby. The sound of Emma's laughter rang out across the wide expanse of land, and her heart swelled at the simple joy of childhood. On the concrete pad adjacent to the driveway, James and Rafe had suckered Kevin and Jason, Blake Marler's twin boys, into a basketball game, and were busily kicking their asses.
Olivia laughed, shaking her head, as she watched Rafe strutting around the makeshift court after having stolen the ball and dunked it in one fell-swoop, leaving the shorter of the two boys looking rather dizzy. And in the distance, a horde of other children ran screaming across the field; she hadn't a clue as to where they had come from, or to whom they belonged. But they all seemed to be having the time of their lives—just as every child should.
From across the yard, Reva Shayne sauntered toward her. The look in her eyes said nothing good would come of any conversation that might ensue. Olivia groaned, and steeled herself for the incoming artillery.
"So," Reva said, as she sidled up to Olivia near the food tables. She perused the matching plates in Olivia's hands. "You and Natalia are still a thing?" She emphasized the thing part.
Olivia responded first with a wry smile. "Yes, we're still a thing."
"And it's been how long?"
"Five months since we admitted how we feel," Olivia answered, tone unruffled. "But about eighteen months since we started feeling it."
"Hmm…" Reva grunted contemplatively.
Sighing, Olivia tilted her hip, and arched an eyebrow. "Just say it."
"Must be the real thing, is all," Reva commented, her blondish mop bouncing as she shrugged her shoulder.
"And why is that?" Olivia couldn't wait to hear whatever wisecrack Reva had burning on the tip of her tongue.
"It's lasted longer than all of your marriages combined," Reva calculated.
The comment gave Olivia pause. But she would be damned if she'd let Reva Shayne know that. "You know what, Reva," she said, her tone matter-of-fact, "I think you're on to something there."
"I am?" Shocked by Olivia's response, Reva sounded confused.
"Yes," Olivia reiterated, not bothering with further explanation.
Wordlessly, she scanned the Bauer's back yard, her gaze falling upon Natalia. An affectionate smile touched the corners of her mouth as she watched her, relaxing in a lounge chair, as she chatted animatedly with Blake Marler; the shelter of a giant oak protecting them both from exposure to the direct sunlight. Dressed in gray capris, white sandals, and a light, summery blouse that transitioned from pale pink at her shoulders and breasts to a deep burgundy around her belly, her long, wavy tresses pulled back at the nape of her neck by a simple gold hair clip, she was as beautiful as Olivia had ever seen her.
"Are you going to marry her?" Reva asked nosily. She didn't like being so easily dismissed.
"Someday," Olivia answered. "If she'll have me."
When Natalia glanced in Olivia's direction, their gazes met; and the resulting smiles that reflected in their eyes were not lost on Reva. An uncharacteristically tender smile touched Reva's lips, as a gentle hand fell against Olivia's arm. "Something tells me she'd be delighted," Reva said quietly.
And then she walked away, leaving Olivia completely baffled by the encounter.
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Cottage, Martha's Vineyard—1:30 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
By early afternoon, preparations for what had become the annual Montgomery-Kundera Fourth of July Barbecue were well underway. Whether in Pine Valley or on the Vineyard, they had hosted the holiday since the year they were married, and family and friends gathered together in celebration.
Retired and enjoying their golden years split between Pine Valley and the Vineyard, Paulina and Alexander, Lena's mother and stepfather had been at the cottage when Dani arrived with Lena, Bianca, and their girls ten days prior. Despite her melancholy, Dani managed to thoroughly enjoy getting acquainted with them. Alexander, with his twinkling eyes, charming accent, and distinguished looks, had enchanted her without even trying. And Paulina, ever the grandmotherly type, had quickly taken on the role of caregiver, much to Dani's surprise and delight. They had taken her in, this incredible family, without so much as a questioning glance, and Dani knew that she would be forever grateful.
Kendall and Zach had arrived with their boys the night before, but they hadn't come by the cottage. They had stayed on Lena and Bianca's yacht, The Restoration—a wedding gift from Bianca's mother, Erica Kane—along with Erica, and Bianca's uncle and step-father, Jackson Montgomery, as well as Jackson's daughters, Greenlee and Lily, and his son, Reggie.
Taking her time, Dani sized them all up one at a time, starting with the first to walk through the door. Bianca's older sister, Kendall Slater, was a stunningly beautiful woman with long, curly, light brunette tresses and striking green eyes. Her willowy figure belied the fact that she had given birth to two strapping young sons—Erick and Ian. Erick, with his head of thick, black curls, dark eyes, and dimpled grin, looked to be about three years old; and Ian, who possessed similar features, looked to be about a year younger.
When Zach Slater walked through the door moments later, Dani quickly realized why the two little boys qualified to be described as "strapping." Their father, with his wavy black hair and even darker twinkling eyes, was a tall man with broad shoulders and an obviously muscled physique. He was handsome. Very handsome. And she promptly surmised, very clearly in love with his wife. She couldn't help the pang of jealousy as she watched the way he looked at Kendall. Langston used to look at her the very same way.
Her attention was diverted by the arrival of Bianca's infamous mother. Dani was already quite familiar with the persona of Erica Kane; but she was pleasantly surprised to find that despite the obvious glamor and glitz, and the not-so-subtle air of self-absorption, the woman truly loved her family. While, unlike Paulina, she didn't appear to be the least bit "grandmotherly," Erica took the time to interact with each of her grandchildren individually, doting on them with obvious affection. As with Paulina, watching Erica interact with her grandchildren caused a pang of sadness and regret for Dani in knowing that neither her own mother, nor Carrie, would ever hold her children.
A strong need to curtail that line of thinking drew Dani's attention away from Erica, toward her husband, Jackson. Tall and lean, Jackson was a gregarious gentleman with sandy blond hair— thanks to the summer sun, Dani assumed—and sincere bluish-gray eyes. She learned that he was a successful attorney—and interestingly enough, Bianca's paternal uncle. To say that she'd been confused by Bianca calling him "Uncle Jack," at the same moment Jordan was hopping up and down, squealing, "Grandpa!" would've been an understatement. But it paled in comparison to the confusion she felt when hearing Jordan call Kendall's husband, "Daddy." She wouldn't even think about the confusion caused by Zach calling Alexander, "Dad," which meant that he was technically Lena's brother-in-law and her step-brother, as well as the father of her two-plus children. Their family tree had more branches than Wells Fargo!
But she digressed.
Anyway, Jackson's son Reggie looked to be in his early twenties—Dani soon learned he was twenty-one, and a junior in college. She couldn't remember where. He was a handsome young man of color who wore his hair in shoulder-length dreadlocks, and gazed at her with intelligent brown eyes that spoke of wisdom far beyond his years. Immediately, she felt a kinship with him—one that she had no words to explain.
The next family member to draw her attention was Jackson's younger daughter, Lily—a beautiful young blonde, with smoky green eyes, and a smile that lit up her entire face. The moment Lily set eyes on the newcomer, she marched right up to her, announcing, "Hi. My name is Lily Montgomery. I'm the youngest daughter of Jackson Montgomery. I go to school at Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which means I'm really smart. But I have Autism Spectrum Disorder, and I don't like to be touched, so I won't shake your hand or hug your or anything, but it's really nice to meet you."
And then she stepped away, leaving Dani instantly charmed by her.
Finally, Jackson's eldest daughter, Greenlee came bursting through the door, a string of expletives cascading from her mouth, as she muttered about some idiot riding a rickety old bicycle down the middle of the road. "The nerve of some people!" she screeched, as she slammed the door behind her.
A petite brunette with piercing brown eyes that flashed with passion as she cursed unabashedly, Greenlee looked like force to be reckoned with—and it didn't take long for Dani to figure out who truly lit her fire: Kendall. Her step-sister? Her cousin? Were they really even related by blood? At this point, Dani hadn't a clue.
The group was complete when Bianca's best friend Maggie arrived midmorning, with her daughter Cheska, who was about a year younger than Jordan, and her eight-month old son, Stone, in tow. The moment they were through the door, Cheska took off in search of Jordan, leaving Maggie to apologize for their late arrival. She explained that her husband Jake was stuck in an emergency surgery back in Pine Valley, and unfortunately wouldn't be joining them for the holiday.
Pausing what she was doing, Bianca wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, and took a moment to ruffle the thick mop of dark hair on little Stoney's head, as she kissed his cheek. "How's Auntie B's little man today?" she asked, her tone light and sweet.
The baby grinned and babbled as he waved his little arms, drawing a laugh from her. Glancing at his mother, she said, "I take it the flight agreed with him."
Nodding, Maggie assured her that all went well.
And then Bianca hugged and kissed the petite young doctor with the streaky blondish hair, soft brown eyes, and a gentle smile, telling her how sorry she was that Jake couldn't make it—and how happy she was to see her and her children, despite their delay. "I hope you can still stay the weekend," she said warmly.
His chubby legs kicking, Stoney reached for Bianca. She grinned at him, and held out her hands, fingers wiggling. He squealed and dove for her, immediately snuggling into the crook of her neck when she pulled him close.
The affectionate smile Maggie gave in return said she adored Bianca and her family. "We wouldn't miss it for the world," she assured, gently squeezing Bianca's arm. "Now," she said decidedly, planting her hands on her hips, "where are my adorable little Goddaughters?" she asked, referring to Lena and Bianca's daughters. "I need to get my fix of hugs and kisses."
Bianca returned that affectionate smile, as she gently bounced her Godson in her arms. "They're out back."
Throughout the day, Dani was afforded the opportunity to watch Maggie interact with the Montgomery-Kundera clan, and her actions spoke even louder as to her affections, as she hugged on Bianca and her girls without restraint, just as she did her own children. It was obvious to Dani that the two women had shared something very special once upon a time—and that despite their thriving marriages to the loves of their lives, the depths of their affections had never waned.
Dani would later learn that Cheska, or "Franceska," whom she found to be her mother's mini-me when she finally slowed down, was named after Maggie's deceased twin, Mary Francis "Frankie" Stone—Bianca's first love. And her little boy, who was every bit his handsome father's son, Dani was told, was named for Maggie, Stone having been her maiden name.
In all, they were an interesting group, and Dani found that she liked them very much—probably mostly because they were so real with one another, and with her. Though they were obviously wealthy, the Rockefeller's, they were not. Neither were they the Cleaver's. But at least Erica and Greenlee had ceased with the catfights—for now, she'd been told. Dani wondered how long that ceasefire would last, if Greenlee hadn't stopped cursing, and fast!
Laughter rang out, drawing Dani's attention to the older children playing tag with Reggie and Greenlee on the beach, while the littler ones toddled and crawled about, barefooted, on the far side of the upper deck, a latched gate secured to keep them safe from the staircases that led down to the sand. Meanwhile, with Lily's help, Jackson and Zach busied themselves gathering kindling, and moving sand to make a pit on the beach where they would build a huge bonfire after twilight.
Amused by the fun-loving chaos that surrounded her, Dani smiled, and turned her attention back to the task at hand—working side-by-side with Lena, Bianca, Kendall, and Maggie, finishing the last dicing and chopping of vegetables to add to the steak, shrimp, and chicken kabobs they were planning to grill for dinner.
With all these new people milling around, there was plenty of interesting conversation to keep Dani occupied, and if she'd had time to consider it, she would have been grateful for the distraction. They were a lively group, this close-knit family of Bianca and Lena's, and more than once, Dani felt just the slightest pangs of jealousy and longing.
She and Langston had always had one another, and thankfully Carrie and Quinn, but never had either of them known a family life such as this, where everyone worked together toward common goals, and genuinely seemed to enjoy one another, even when they were arguing. They had talked often about building this kind of family, of what it would take to make that happen. Unfortunately, that had been stolen away from them before they could even get started. And with that very thought, despite the camaraderie of the day, Dani felt herself being drawn back into the past…
Monday, June 22, 2009… Danika Kováč's Room, The Beacon—4:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
An obnoxious pounding at the door startled her, causing her heart to stop in unison with her incessant pacing. She had been wearing a rut in the master suite's carpeting, as she agonized over Langston's fate. Grumpily, she glanced at bedside clock: 4:30 a.m., it mocked with its iridescent blue. What the fuck!
And then stark fear gripped her soul.
Frantically, she raced across the thickly carpeted floor from the bedroom out into the sitting area of her suite, struggling to keep reign on the rising panic. It was four-thirty in the morning, for Christ's sake! Who the hell could be knocking on her door? Whoever it was, it was a good bet it wasn't good news.
Reaching the heavy wooden door, she steeled herself, attempting to quell her frazzled nerves. And then she peered through the peephole, the dark side of her heart expected to see police officers, coming to tell her that her wife was dead. How they would know where to find her, she hadn't a clue—it wasn't an expectation based in rationality, but rather, one based in soul-gripping fear. What she found instead, as she caught a glimpse outside her door, made her breath catch, seizing the sob that sought escape from her lungs, holding it in its clutches.
Oh, my God!
Flinging the door open, she gasped at the sight—so much more devastating in full view. Battered, bruised, sopping wet, her t-shirt and jeans plastered to her skin from the downpour she had ridden through, Langston's ashen face wore a weary expression. Those usually vibrant blue eyes were a lifeless shade of gray Dani had never before witnessed. And her body, always so solid and sure, appeared tattered, nearly broken; as though she might faint at any given moment.
But even faced with such devastation, all Dani could think was: Thank God you're alive!
Without hesitation, she flung herself through the door, grasping on to Langston with all her might. Her head was racing with so many questions she didn't hear the audible wince that slipped from Langston's lips.
"Oh, my God, I'm so glad to see you," Dani murmured against Langston's ear, as she held her close, not caring for a single moment that Langton's soaking-wet clothes would drench her as well. "Thank God you're all right. I woke up with this dreadful feeling that something was wrong with you. I was so scared…"
God, it felt good to be in Dani's arms! Everything in Langston wanted to give in, and just stay there, where she felt safe and loved. But she couldn't. Not now. Not after what had happened in the middle of nowhere, in the early hours of morning.
"You have to get out of Springfield," Langston commanded, her voice uncharacteristically fatigued. Gently, reluctantly, she pried her wife off of her body. Feeling dizzy and faint, she pressed a hand to the doorframe, struggling to hold herself upright. "They're watching us, and you're not safe here anymore."
"Never mind me," Dani said dismissively.
"No, Dani," Langston said with more force than she thought she even possessed. "You need to listen to me. I saw them parked outside. They're watching, waiting for an opportunity. You need to stay away from windows, and for god's sake, don't go outside in the open. We have to find a way to get out of here safely."
"I hear you, okay," Dani answered, her dark eyes serious as she gazed into Langston's blue ones. The paleness of their color told Dani something was seriously wrong. Reaching for her again, she grasped Langston's left arm, pulling her forward.
Langston winced, louder this time, at the gentle tug, and immediately, Dani loosened her grip. "What happened to you, Sweetheart?" Dani asked, with deep concern in her eyes as she regarded her wife. "Are you all right?"
The softly murmured endearment sliced through Langston's heart, generating a pang of pain far deeper than any physical blow ever could. "It's nothing," she disregarded, though the pain that seared through her chest and into her left shoulder was anything but.
And then, glancing down, Dani saw it—the crimson stain on her own soaking-wet t-shirt. "Oh, my God, Lang, you're bleeding!"
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Bauer Barbecue—1:30 p.m. Central Daylight Time
Despite her earlier promise to Natalia, Phillip's arrival sparked a surge of panic in Olivia. Her heart rate skyrocketed, and the subtle beads of sweat that had lingered on her forehead and chest all afternoon were suddenly joined by a profuse outpouring of perspiration that quickly drenched her, head to toe. She needed a beer. Or a tranquilizer. Too bad Natalia had confiscated her gun.
"It'll be fine, Honey. I promise," Natalia said gently. She didn't need a degree in physiology to recognize the signs of extreme stress. "I told you I had a chat with Phillip the other day. He'll be on his best behavior."
Olivia didn't look convinced, but it was too late. Emma spotted Phillip near the barbecue pit, chatting with Rick, and came tearing across the yard, full speed ahead. "Daddy, Daddy!" she exclaimed excitedly, arms outstretched as she ran.
Phillip's entire face brightened, displaying that megawatt smile that had charmed Olivia so easily not so many years ago. She grumbled, chastising herself, as she watched him stoop down to Emma's level. Her little girl ran directly into those strong arms, wrapping her smaller ones tightly around his neck.
Olivia had to curb the urge to race over there, wrap her own hands tightly around that same neck, and squeeze until the life faded from those devastating blue eyes.
"I missed you so much!" Emma cried, as she clung to her daddy.
"I missed you too, Sweetie," Phillip murmured against his little girl's ear. Scooping her up, he stood to his full height, their eyes making contact in the process.
"I knew you would come today," Emma said with certainty in her tone, as she gazed into her daddy's blue eyes.
"You did?" Phillip said, more for interaction than an actual question.
"Yup," Emma confirmed. And then her eyes brightened for the second time in less than five minutes. "Natalia and I made rice crispy treats for the barbecue. I got to put some 'gredients in, and I even got to stir!" she reported, excitement in her tone. "Wanna go have some?"
Phillip smiled again, his eyes alight with joy. Emma was so very clearly thriving with Olivia and Natalia, and he couldn't have been more pleased. "You betcha," he swiftly agreed. Dropping her back to the ground, he held out his hand toward her.
When she accepted it, his entire world righted, and he glanced at Natalia, mouthing the words, "Thank you."
Earning a warm smile from Natalia in return, he turned his attention back to Emma. "Let's go get some of your famous rice crispy treats," he said, purposely making a fuss about them.
"It's Natalia's recipe, Daddy," Emma reported. She didn't want to take credit where it wasn't due.
"Yes," Phillip agreed. "But they have your love stirred inside them."
Emma giggled. "You're silly, Daddy."
As they watched the interaction unfolding before them, Natalia reached over, taking Olivia's hand into her own. Their fingers entwined, and she gave a gentle squeeze, as lightly, her thumb caressed the top. "I know it's hard," she said quietly, validating Olivia's feelings. "But just give him a little time with her today. We're here to keep watch, so she'll be safe, and no one will ever know the difference."
"Thank you," Olivia said softly, her gaze falling on Natalia.
Despite the intense level of anxiety that accompanied Phillip's presence, the gentle touch of Natalia's hand, the quiet reassurance in her voice, was all Olivia had needed to hear to know that everything would work out all right. Her breathing calmed, and her heart rate returned to normal, as she held firmly to Natalia's hand. Natalia, her love, her anchor in the storm. She could no longer even fathom the idea of a life without her.
Natalia didn't have to ask her why. She already knew. And all that needed be said was a quiet, "You're welcome."
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Cottage, Martha's Vineyard—4:15 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Even hours after she had been rescued her from her thoughts by the announcement that dinner would soon be served, the mere memory of her t-shirt, saturated with Langston's blood, made Dani shudder visibly. And that made her feel self-conscious, in a houseful of virtual strangers. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she attempted to withdraw further inside herself—a feat that proved challenging given the chaos that swirled around her.
Those two adorable little dark-haired boys, one of them with a headful of curls just like Jordan's, tore through the living room and out onto the back porch, squealing with glee, Jordan and Cheska fast on their heels. The back door slammed a millisecond after she heard Bianca's voice calling out, "Hold the door!" as if she'd said those words a million times, never once being heard or obeyed.
On the other side of the room, Greenlee—Bianca's sister, right? Or was it her cousin? Maybe she'd said she was both. Again, it was all so confusing—was arguing with Kendall, something business related. Apparently these two feisty women, who acted more like ex-lovers than sisters, cousins, or business partners, owned the Fusion cosmetics company together.
But even in the midst of the pandemonium, she couldn't keep her thoughts from drifting toward Langston. Wandering out into the afternoon sun, she unlatched the gate at the threshold of the upper deck, and stepped through. Once on the other side, she latched it again, making certain that it was secure. And then she descended the steps down to the center deck.
The wooden planks creaked beneath her feet as she moved across the deck toward the railing that looked out over the ocean. And there, her gaze fixed on the white-capped waves as they tumbled toward the shore, she allowed her thoughts to drift along with them…
Monday, June 22, 2009… Danika Kováč's Room, The Beacon—4:45 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"Really, it's nothing, Dani," Langston insisted futilely. The fabric of her t-shirt, once washed clean by the pounding rain, was now saturated with her blood once again. Flashes of pain seared through her chest into her shoulder, and willfully, she sought to stifle a grimace, whilst wondering how it was that she was still standing upright.
"Bullshit," Dani said, calling her on her bluff. "You're covered in blood, and you look like you're about to faint. Come. Sit down." Gently, she grasped Langston's hand.
The gentle touch of Dani's hand warmed her in places she didn't even realize were cold, and following orders, Langston allowed herself to be led to the sofa across the elegantly decorated room. Her fatigued body melting into the soft leather sofa, she held her breath, as Dani joined her—sitting so close that her thigh pressed against Langston's knee.
"Let me have a look," Dani quietly instructed, as she gingerly pushed Langston's leather jacket from her shoulders, peeling it down her arms.
Despite Dani's tenderness, Langston winced again, and fought the urge to pull away from Dani's touch. It felt so… right, having Dani take care of her. And as much as it scared her to be so vulnerable, she craved the tenderness that was so much of who Dani was with her.
"Sorry, Honey," Dani whispered, her own voice pained by the mere thought of causing Langston discomfort.
Finally, the jacket lay pooled around Langston's slender hips, and Dani reached for the straps on the black leather gun holster Langston always wore beneath her left arm. It had been gift from Dani when she'd entered the police academy. Her gaze fell quickly to the empty slot. "Where's your weapon, Lang?" Her voice sounded strained.
Confusion skittered across Langston's face, and then she met Dani's probing gaze. "I…" Her brow furrowed. "I have no idea," she said, struggling to remember. Honest to god, she didn't even know how she'd gotten to Dani's door. It was as if instinct had driven her there.
"It wasn't your service weapon, was it?" Dani asked, concerned.
"No," Langston answered, very clear on that fact. "It was the Glock you bought me in college."
Dani breathed a silent sigh of relief. The last thing they needed to worry about was a lost service weapon associated with an attempted mob hit. Not that having a gun privately registered to a cop was much better, but at least it wasn't a lost or stolen service weapon. "As much as it pains me to say this, I'm glad."
"Yeah," Langston sighed.
"Can you sit forward for me?" Dani asked, as she worked to loosen the holster.
Langston complied, and Dani eased the holster from Langston's shoulders. And then gently, she smoothed her hand over the t-shirt Langston was wearing. The familiar ripple and twitch of taut muscle beneath her fingertips gave her hope that Langston really was all right. But the telltale hole in the fabric caused her breath to catch.
Oh, my God, you really have been shot. It shouldn't really have been all that surprising for her. The blood, the missing weapon were indication enough. She hoped the intensity of the fear that raged inside didn't show in her expression.
Their eyes locked, knowing; but neither spoke. No one in their world ever spoke of such things. They merely dealt.
Catching her breath, Dani forced herself to focus. Langston didn't need hysteria right now. She needed medical attention. STAT! Swallowing her fear, she steeled herself, and then gently, she shifted Langston forward again. "Did the bullet go clean through?"
The question flowed from her lips so smoothly it sounded as though it were commonplace. It was, she supposed. Commonplace in the world where they had grown up, and fallen in love. But it didn't feel very ordinary to her, the thought of her wife sitting beside her, a bullet hole in her body, blood saturating her clothing.
"I don't think so," Langston answered weakly. The loss of blood was catching up with her. The corner of her mouth lifted in an adorably crooked smile. "I hope not," she added. "My jacket would be ruined."
Despite her rising fear, Dani couldn't stop the affectionate smile that played across her lips. She knew from that simple statement that Langston had thought of her every single time she slipped into that old, worn jacket. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" she asked rhetorically, as she traced the contour of Langston's angular jaw with her fingertips.
Her skin tingling from Dani's tender touch, Langston regarded her with all of the sincerity she could muster, given that she thought she might faint at any given moment. "No, we wouldn't."
Brushing her fingertips along the curve of Langston's chin, Dani declared, "You need a doctor." Rising from the sofa, she grabbed a towel from the wet bar, quickly returning to Langston's side.
"You know I can't," Langston countered. "Too many questions." She winced at the firm, but gentle pressure of Dani's hand against her chest.
"Well, you can't live with a bullet in your chest," Dani argued the obvious.
"Then you'll have to get it out," Langston replied reasonably. How many times had she watched her father's men fishing bullets out of one another? Or suturing knife wounds too deep to heal unaided? Crude? Yes. But effective. In their world, one did what needed to be done, and right or wrong, wise or not, no one ever questioned it. Dani would do what needed to be done. Langston was certain of it.
"You can't be serious," Dani said incredulously.
"I'm deadly serious," Langston said in a tone that brooked no dispute. "And do it fast. We have to get out of here."
"I can't leave with you, Lang," Dani said firmly. For reasons I hope you can understand. Oh, how she dreaded the thought of having to tell her why.
"You don't have a choice," Langston argued. "They're gunning fast, and the next bullet has your name on it. I can't leave you here like a sitting duck."
"You almost sound as if you give a shit," Dani said flatly.
Langston gave her a censuring look.
Properly chastised, Dani quickly apologized. "That was out of line."
Langston bit her tongue. Even if she'd had the wherewithal, there was no point in purposely escalating things.
"Any idea which side is gunning?" Dani asked, as she increased the pressure of her hand against Langston's chest.
"I've been out too long to know who's working for whom," Langston managed. "I just know they mean business."
"I would ask you what happened, but I want you to conserve your energy," Dani said with concern.
Whether Dani was asking or not, Langston couldn't shake the memory of her encounter with a savage gunman, and his lunatic driver, on a lonely stretch of highway, in the middle of the night…
Monday, June 22, 2009… Highway 55, Southern Illinois—2:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Headlights lingered in the distance, the ominous glow of those stark white bulbs slicing through the darkness that surrounded Langston, as she sped along the familiar northbound lanes toward Springfield. She watched in her side-view mirror, as steadily, they drew near, taunting her like a cat on the prowl.
Her heart raced double-time, and beads of sweat formed on her brow beneath the protectiveness of her helmet. Squeezing the clutch with her left hand, she kicked the bike down into fourth gear with her left foot—a strategic move designed to help her quickly gain speed, and thus, distance. And as she released the clutch, gunning the engine with her right hand, the bike shot forward, even as she caught the gleam of gun metal reflecting in her mirror as the barrel of a sniper's rifle appeared…
Gripping fear clawed at her insides, and instinctively, she swerved to avoid the spray of bullets designed to disintegrate anything they struck. And then she killed the lights on the bike, thankful that the moon was shrouded by the heavy blanket of dark clouds that had been hammering the earth with downpours for days.
Cranking the throttle wide open, she allowed the gasoline to pour into the engine, sending the bike careening forward with increased force. But despite the boost in momentum, still, she could feel them on her tail, the bullets flying all around her. All she could think was to keep swerving—an unpredictable, moving target was harder to hit, she knew from experience.
Another bullet zinged past just as she tilted the bike toward the left. It barely missed her right bicep. And then another whizzed past, this one striking the left side-view mirror. It ricocheted, striking her near her left clavicle. Langston's entire body jerked from the blow. Blood gushed forth upon impact, and instantly, her head began to spin.
She had to do something.
And fast.
TBC in Chapter 16.3…