Disclaimer in part 1
Angel
by imagine
Part 3 - The Darkness
They walked down the jagged incline that led to the cars, each holding on to the other for support. By the time they reached the Porsche, however, Miss Parker had lost some of the serenity she'd possessed during the sunrise. Though she did not push him away, her smile faded and Miss Parker fell into a somber silence.
"It's going to be all right," he murmured. Brushing her hair back with both hands, he bent his knees so he could look directly into the woman's eyes. "You will get through today."
She took a deep breath and nodded, but said nothing as she slipped into the driver's seat. He stood by the door, waiting for the engine to start and for the roof to fold into itself. When she finally obliged his silent request, Jarod leaned into the car and, before she could object, kissed her gently on the lips. "Go home and get some rest. I will be along in a few minutes."
"Where are you going?"
"Relax," he grinned. "I just need to leave my Jeep somewhere less obvious than your driveway. I won't be long."
She swallowed her impulse to ask him for a promise, and shifted the car into gear.
Sitting on the steps that led to the second floor, Miss Parker had her arms crossed over her knees and her head lowered. He gently placed his bag at the edge of the room and moved closer, his eyes darting around the room for signs of trouble. Though the sun was creeping in, the house was still heavy with shadows that darkened corners and alcoves. There were plenty of places for danger to lurk.
"Parker?"
Despite his soft tone, she was startled by his voice. Miss Parker's gaze shot up to him but, as recognition dawned, her features relaxed. Her eyes were red and her face was, once again, distorted with tears. Immediately, Jarod forgot about his anxiousness and sat beside the woman.
"It's been a long night."
"And it's going to be an even longer day." Leaning into him as his arm slid around her shoulder, she sighed, "Lyle called. Raines hired a limo and wants us to ride together as a family."
He heard her voice crack on the last word and tightened his hold on her but, before he could offer any words of support, she said, "I told him no."
Jarod's eyes widened and he pulled back far enough to look at her face. "Really?"
"It's bad enough that I have to do this, I'll be damned if I'm going to do it on Raines' terms," she growled. When he smiled in approval, she added softly, "I called Sydney. He and Broots have been my family for years."
Jarod nodded and slowly rose from the step, pulling her to her feet as he stood. "Well, it's barely six thirty. Sydney won't be here for at least another two and a half hours. Until then, you need to go upstairs and rest. I'll bring you some tea and . . ."
His voice came to an abrupt stop as she slid a hand to his chest. Looking down into the soft, blue eyes of the brunette, he tilted his head in question.
"Come with me," she whispered, sliding a finger over his lips to prevent any protests.
Gently, the Pretender drew her hand away from his mouth and shook his head sadly. "Parker, it's not a good idea. Not tonight."
Miss Parker averted her gaze long enough to gain control of her voice. She didn't know if she had the strength, or the inclination, to explain herself to him but, when she looked into his dark eyes, she heard herself say, "It's not what you think, Jarod. I swear, I am not using you as a replacement for Jer . . Jimmy."
"Parker . . ."
"You were right. I was using him to ... avoid the situation. I don't want anything but for you to hold me until I fall asleep."
He stared at her, unable to form a response. He wanted to believe that she was not using him, as much as he wanted to believe he would not allow it to happen.
His intentions, when he arrived at the house, had not included staying with her all night. Appointing himself her guardian had been a last-minute decision that was made the moment he saw her leave the bar with Jimmy. Since then, he had been so busy urging Miss Parker to deal with her emotions that Jarod had not considered his own feelings, or where the night might lead them.
"Please," she told him in a slow, thick voice. "I don't want to be alone."
Jarod would never know whether it was the softness of her voice, the grief etched on her face, or the warmth of her hand on his arm that made him nod his head. When she offered him a weak smile of thanks, Jarod knew he was walking a very thin, dangerous line.
With their history, it wouldn't take much for a simple act of comfort to escalate into something more physical. If he allowed his fantasies to come to life, it could be the beginning of a new and wonderful relationship between them as easily as it could be the mark of their destruction.
"Just until you fall asleep," he murmured.
Without a word, Miss Parker smiled, slid her hand into his and led Jarod up the stairs.
As Jarod moved quietly down the stairs, his eyes remained fixed on the door to her bedroom. Despite the strong urge to do otherwise, he had not allowed their closeness to escalate into anything that would complicate matters. Though he was proud of the accomplishment, and was confident that it was the right decision, Jarod felt a sharp pang of disappointment. Having her so close had been difficult, but it had also seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
Unfortunately, even in his arms, Miss Parker had been unable to completely relax and, when he offered her a sleeping pill, she'd refused. So, as she dozed, she talked about her childhood and about her parents. Her voice had a distant quality as she told him stories about her mother and the man she believed her father had once been. But, when the nostalgia gave way to reality, and she began talking about her father's death and the legacy he insisted she continue, Miss Parker became restless in Jarod's arms.
"They loved each other and they loved me," she whispered, staring at the ceiling as she spoke. "I will believe that, with all my heart, until the day I die. If it hadn't been for the Centre . . ."
"You are the best of both of them, Parker. They did love you and, in their own ways, each taught you to be someone stronger than they ever hoped to be. The Centre can never take that from you."
"I'm tired," she sighed. "I don't want to be strong anymore."
"You wouldn't know how to be anything else."
"I'm willing to learn." Yawning, she slid her hand over his chest and snuggled against his shoulder as she closed her eyes. "I don't want to fulfill some ancient prophecy, or rebuild the Parker legacy. It's too much. All I want is what was promised to me as a child, Jarod, I want the happily ever after."
The rumbling of water pipes shook him from his thoughts and Jarod looked up at the ceiling. She was awake.
Glancing at his watch, he sighed and moved toward the kitchen, trying not to think about how little sleep she'd gotten. Though she had finally accepted her father's death, her emotions were still raw and her determination to suppress them was doing nothing but adding to her fatigue, bringing her to the edge of exhaustion.
Sydney would arrive in less than an hour and, Jarod had no doubt that Miss Parker would take on her Ice Queen persona. Her body and expressions would be tense, her words would be sharp and her movements would be deliberate. Knowing that the wrong word or look would, literally, bring her to her knees, and Jarod had no idea how long she would be able to keep up the facade. He could only hope it lasted until she was safe at home.
Shaking his head, Jarod pushed at the door and forced his thoughts on the kitchen. Although it did not seem possible, the mess he'd left when he went in search of Miss Parker was even more disturbing in an early morning light. Crossing the sticky kitchen tile, he retrieved a mop and pail from the back porch.
He needed the mindless, physical activity that cleaning the kitchen offered him and, within minutes, he was scouring walls, floors, counter tops and windows. He was on his hands and knees, scraping at a particularly stubborn spot of berry seeds and juice when he felt the weight of a heavy stare. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Miss Parker standing behind him.
She stared at him, openly watching the muscles in his back and buttocks ripple. Her eyes slid to his face as he turned, but only for a moment. "Not bad."
Falling forward to continue scrubbing the tile, he answered, "It took some time, but I think I finally got it up to your standards."
"Too bad I wasn't necessarily talking about the cleaning job."
He faced her, raised an eyebrow and smiled as he slowly rose to his feet. His eyes, however, were dancing across her body while hers did the same with his. Judging by the way her blue silk robe hung, Jarod had no doubt she was wearing little else. Her feet were bare and her hair, still damp from the shower, fell to her shoulders.
"Be careful where you step," he warned, softly. Turning away, he lifted the bucket and disappeared onto the porch. "There may still be glass on the floor."
Miss Parker heard the splash as he tossed the dirty water into the bushes but waited until he returned to the room before padding nonchalantly to the nearest chair. Crossing her legs, she tightened the sash around her waist, folded her hands on the table and watched as he reached for the tea kettle.
Doing his best to ignore her movements, and the affect they were having on him, Jarod filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. After igniting the burner, and unable to conjure up another way to stall the inevitable, Jarod took a deep breath and finally moved to the chair. The left side of her robe was askew, revealing a hint of her shoulder and the curve of her breast.
Clearing his throat, Jarod brought his eyes to her face. "You didn't sleep very long."
"You left."
"I only promised to stay until you fell asleep," he pointed out.
She nodded but dropped her eyes to her clasped hands.
"It will be easier, tonight," he promised, "after it's all over."
She watched his hand slide over hers and, without lifting her eyes, asked quietly, "Will you be here, after it's all over?"
"Do you want me to be?"
Tilting her head back, against the top of the chair, the brunette closed her eyes but said nothing. The robe opened slightly more than he was comfortable with but, this time, Jarod was unable to turn away. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest and memorized the curves and dimples that were exposed. It wasn't until the tea kettle shrieked that, suddenly self-conscious, the Pretender forced his gaze to her face.
When Jarod saw the blue eyes trained on his face, and her small smile, he realized she'd been watching him, studying his reactions to her. Immediately, he tried to draw his hand away but Miss Parker silently tightened her gentle grasp.
"The . . . kettle," he croaked.
She sighed and nodded, watching him rise from the table as she released his hand. Her sad smile made him pause, as if he were searching for something to say but the insistent screaming of the boiling water finally made Jarod turn away.
"Do you believe there is a Heaven?" she asked as he placed a mug of tea in front of her.
He hesitated. "I honestly don't know."
"My mother believed there was a Heaven."
"Your mother was much more knowledgeable about those kinds of things than I could ever hope to be."
"She also believed in Hell," Miss Parker continued, her eyes trained on the drink. "It's hard to imagine that there could be a place worse than the Centre."
He had a strong feeling of where the conversation was headed and frowned. The beliefs she was talking about were nothing he had ever been able to comprehend. Over the years, he had questioned theologians, as well as the leaders of many different churches and their congregations, but the logic behind their convictions had always escaped him. Even the monks that offered him refuge after Kyle's death had been unable to make him completely understand the concept of a higher power, let alone the Faith they put in the Entity.
Miss Parker looked up at him, when he did not respond. Still standing at the stove, his eyes were filled with apology.
"It's all right, Jarod," she told him, forcing a smile of reassurance before turning back to her drink, "We don't have to talk about this. I know it makes you uncomfortable."
"Your mother's beliefs were a big part of who she was, Miss Parker," he said. Finally lowering himself to his seat, he added, "They made her strong. They gave her the courage she needed to try to help me and Angelo and the other children at the Centre. They were the reason . . ."
"They were the reason she died."
"No. Raines was the reason she died. They were the reason she lived."
Miss Parker slid her hands around the warm mug, but said nothing.
"Your mother was trying to protect Ethan from your father, and the Centre," he reminded her. "She put her trust in Raines because she thought he could help. The fact that he betrayed her trust was not her fault."
"Trust can kill you."
"Or set you free."
"Like everything else, in life, it's a crap shoot," she said, bringing the drink to her lips.
Despite her harsh tone, he heard the disappointment in her voice. Though she would not meet his eyes, Jarod kept his gaze on her face as he spoke, "A long time ago, I helped a young runaway named Jessie. When I found her, she'd been beaten severely and was close to death. Based on her vitals, the viciousness of her injuries and the length of time she had gone without medical care, she should have died."
"But she survived."
Though there had not been a question, Jarod nodded. "Yes, she made a full recovery."
"Of course she did. Otherwise there would be no point in you telling me the story."
Ignoring her sarcasm, Jarod continued in a soft voice, "When she was released from the hospital, Jessie gave me something she swore had helped keep her safe. She said that she hoped it would do the same for me."
Miss Parker watched as he retrieved something from the depths of his pockets and held it out to her. Laced between Jarod's fingers was a simple gold link chain and, hanging from the chain, in the middle of his palm was a gold angel pendant.
"I never really believed the pendant had powers but, because Jessie believed, I kept it with me," he told her, sadly. "She trusted that there was something more to the universe than what we can see and touch. It is a beautiful thought."
"But you can't make yourself believe, can you?"
Jarod sighed. "I have tried. I have visited several churches, talked to people, and read up on the subject. But, I would be lying if I told you I understood the concept the way Jessie - or your mother - understood it, Miss Parker."
"That makes two of us."
"No," he said softly. "I think your mother made sure you had a firm grasp on the topic. It was important to her that you have that kind of peace in your life, Miss Parker."
When she wrapped her arms across her chest, hugging herself, Jarod frowned. "I know you are hurting, Miss Parker and I am truly sorry that I do not have the knowledge necessary to make it go away."
She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears as he stood and moved behind her.
"I want you to have this," he whispered, sliding the chain and pendant around her neck. "If it really has the powers Jessie believed, maybe it will offer you the same kind of comfort it offered her."
Dressed in a simple black suit, her hair was pulled off her neck and the first three buttons of the steel grey blouse she wore were undone. Her makeup was so light, it barely hid the fact that she had been crying. And, except for the square ring he knew she never took off, the only other jewelry Miss Parker wore was the angel pendant.
"You look beautiful," he said softly.
She fingered the gold charm and smiled as she continued down the steps. "Sydney and Broots will be here any minute."
"I know." Retrieving his bag from beside the stairs, he slid his hand into hers and squeezed it gently. "Lean on them today, Parker. Believe it, or not, they need and want to help you as much as I do."
Hesitating, Miss Parker swallowed and dropped her eyes to the bag. "I see you made up your mind. You're leaving."
"No. I will be back, Parker," he promised. "I just need to be somewhere else right now."
"Where?"
"It's best if you don't know my plans. I don't want you to have to lie when Sydney asks questions."
"Nice try, but you already told me you'd visited Sydney. We both know that if he knows you're here, he knows why you're here."
Slowly, Jarod slid his hands from hers.
"But, he doesn't approve, does he?" The words came out much harsher than she intended but when Jarod did not deny the statement, Miss Parker felt her insides clench. "He doesn't like that you're here, with me."
"He's afraid for us."
"He's afraid for you," she replied, forcing the hurt from her voice, "and he's right. It's dangerous for you to stay. If Lyle or Raines found out . . ."
"They won't."
"Don't be so cocky. You could lose more than your freedom, this time. You could lose your life."
He stared at her. "Are you saying that you want me to leave?"
She hesitated then brought her eyes to his. "I'm saying I don't want you to get caught."
Though he was desperate to ease the concern he heard in her voice, Jarod found himself expecting her to add the words, "Not this way." or "Not yet." to the end of her sentence. When the words didn't come, he smiled inwardly and took a step toward the woman.
"I need to do this, Parker, but I don't want you to worry. I will be all right. I always am."
She was ready to believe him, to accept his promise as fact, until he grinned. The quick flash of teeth and glint in his eye, though, caused her to scowl and turn away.
"Why do you have to be such an arrogant ass?"
"Excuse me?"
Pivoting toward him when he grabbed her arm, she easily pulled out of his grip and glared at the man. In spite of herself, she found a brief sense of satisfaction when she noticed the smile had slipped from his face.
"You heard me. This is not all about you. I did not invite you here, Jarod, nor did I ask for your help but, dammit, the moment someone discovers you in Blue Cove, I'm going to be pulled in front of the Triumvirate. Is that what you want, to make life more difficult for me? Do you hate me so much?"
"No, of course not. Parker, I don't hate you."
"Then, don't do whatever it is you're planning. Just get in your car and drive as far away from here as possible."
"You don't mean what you're saying."
"Don't I?" she dared, taking a step back as he moved toward her. "You did what you set out to do, Jarod. You saved me. I'm grieving for my father and accepting his death. Now, get the hell out of town so I can stop worrying about you getting caught."
His eyes danced over her face in the silence that followed then, in a deep, but soft, voice, he asked, "Would you really worry about me?"
"Dammit! Why do I have to spell everything out for you? I thought you were a genius," she snapped, her eyes filling with tears as her tone became harsher. "I should have called a Sweeper team, the moment I saw your sorry ass in that bar, but I didn't. I didn't because, the last time you were caught, it almost killed me."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, suddenly anxious. "Did they ... did they hurt you because of me?"
The laugh she let out was quick but it was void of any humor. "I couldn't close my eyes without seeing your face, Jarod. I heard your voice, in my sleep, blaming me. And, even after you escaped, the only way I could make it all stop was to medicate myself. For weeks, all I swallowed was Scotch and the pain pills given to me at the hospital! If Sydney hadn't intervened . . ."
Her confession startled him and, as her voice trailed off, he wondered why Sydney had never told him about the havoc his capture had wreaked upon her recovery.
"I never blamed you, Parker," he said, softly. "It wasn't your fault I was captured."
"Oh, please, for once in your life, give me some credit. You were on the plane, Jarod, with the boy and your father. You had your family," she continued shakily, "and you gave it up to stay with me."
"You were hurt very badly, Miss Parker. You needed me and I couldn't leave you. If I had to do it again, knowing how it would play out, I would make the same choices."
"That's the problem!" she cried. "Stop trying to be my hero. Stop waiting for me to need you. It's not healthy for either of us."
Turning abruptly, she wiped her eyes and managed to increase the distance between them by only a few steps before she felt his hands on her shoulders. Coming to a reluctant stop, she let him pull her back, against his broad chest, but kept her arms folded tightly across her body. Resisting the urge to face him, Miss Parker closed her eyes as he brought his mouth to her ear.
"I won't get caught," he promised, in a husky voice, "You will have your happily ever after, Parker. I promise."
His mouth pressed gently against the back of her neck before his touch faded away and a cool breeze made her shiver. Miss Parker spun on her heel, only to find that the room was empty. Peripherally, she saw movement to her left and turned as the curtains fell against the window. An instant later, Jarod's silhouette disappeared into the trees.
Despite the fact the sun was being suffocated by storm clouds, her eyes were hidden by dark glasses. As she walked across the lawn, flanked by Sydney and Broots, she alternated her gaze from the men to the sky, unable to bring herself to look at the open grave ahead of them.
When thunder rumbled in the distance, she muttered, "Rain at a funeral is so cliche. My father would be appalled."
"I dunno. I think, today, it's more a sense of foreshadowing," Broots murmured, as they came to a stop.
She followed his gaze to the left. Lyle and Raines were moving across the lawn, each holding the hand of the youngest Parker. Without a word, she stepped away from her escorts and crossed into the path of her blood relatives. Ignoring the two men, she crouched in front of the little boy.
"Hi, Aaron," she smiled.
"Hi."
"Are you okay?"
The boy glanced at the two men beside him, then nodded.
Frowning, Miss Parker brushed his hair away from his eyes. When he dropped his eyes, she kissed him tenderly on the forehead and promised, "It will all be over soon. I promise."
"Aaron, why don't you go with Mr. Raines and find us some seats?" Lyle interjected. "I need to talk to our sister."
Reluctantly, the boy released Lyle's hand and moved toward the canopy-covered grave. She watched him leave then rose to face her twin, her eyes hardening as they met his.
"You had your chance to be with him today," he told her. "All you had to do was ride with us in the limo."
"He shouldn't be here. He's too young."
"He's a Parker. He needs to learn to handle things like this."
"And how did you explain this to him? He's believed that Daddy was dead for years. What did you tell him?"
Lyle's eyes narrowed. "I told him the truth."
"And you think he has the capability of . . ."
"Let it go. We've had this discussion before, Parker. You have no say in how I raise Aaron. In case you've forgotten, dear old Dad named Raines and me as co-guardians of the boy."
"That Will was a forgery," she hissed.
"Funny, I don't remember the Judge agreeing with you on that point."
"You paid him off."
"Then, take me back to court and prove it," he dared, calmly moving toward the grave. "Until then, Aaron's welfare does not concern you."
Reaching under her jacket, to the holster at the small of her back, Miss Parker started after her twin. After only a few steps, she felt a hand on her arm.
"Miss Parker, now is not the time or the place."
Swinging toward the man, she felt her tears begin to well. "You don't understand, Syd. He's been with them too long. You saw the damage Raines did to Ethan. I'm not going to let him do the same thing to Aaron. He's not . . ."
"I know," he whispered, sliding his hand over the automatic. "But, this is not the way to get him away from them. It will only make things worse."
"Then, how do I make things better?" she pleaded. She was too tired to hide her desperation. Staring at Lyle, she watched, grief-stricken, as he took his seat beside Aaron. The boy peered at her over the back of the chair then, after a quick glance at her twin, turned to face forward. "I just want things to be better."
"I know." Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, the psychiatrist led the woman toward the chairs that circled the grave. He slid her gun into the pocket of his jacket and, when they were out of Lyle's earshot, he whispered, "Jarod wants things to be better, as well."
Still in his arms, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. "Jarod? What does Jarod have to do with any of this?"
"Trust him, Miss Parker."
The priest knew so little about her father, it should have made mourning easier. Other than the fact he knew Mr. Parker was a successful business man and that he was a father who had lost two wives, tragically, there was nothing in the eulogy that came close to describing the man she knew.
Yet, despite the drab summary of her father's life, the words sparked memories that made it impossible for her to pretend the person being memorialized was a stranger. Combined with her fears for Aaron and, now, Jarod, by the time the service was over, Miss Parker felt so battered and exhausted that even the simple act of breathing was difficult.
"M-Miss Parker, are you all right?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice, and looked up at the balding man. When he held out his hand, she smiled. Sliding her hand into his, she allowed the technician to help her to her feet, but her eyes were trained on the rose adorned the grave.
"Would you like a moment alone?" Sydney offered.
Still wearing the dark glasses, she slowly, brought her gaze to the older man and shook her head.
"I want to go home," she said, absently fingering the charm that hung around her neck.
Despite the warm wind that had suddenly gained strength, and the ground that was moist from the light rain, Miss Parker crossed the cemetery lawn at a regal, but quick, pace. At the car, she slid into the back seat and, while Sydney and Broots took their positions in the front, her eyes moved back to the grave.
"Goodbye, Daddy," she whispered as the car moved forward. "I'm going to miss you."
When she returned home and found the house was empty, Miss Parker did her best to ignore the fact she had expected otherwise. Sydney's words to trust Jarod were the last he would say on the matter and, as frustrated as she was with the psychiatrist, her fear for the Pretender was growing at an alarming rate.
For a time, small household chores occupied her mind and distracted her from worrying about the Pretender's welfare. Soon, though, her thoughts were racing at a ridiculous pace, jumping from one fear to the next as she pushed her childhood friend from her mind. Thoughts of her father, dying alone, mingled with thoughts of Aaron being raised by Lyle and Raines, which mixed with images of Jarod beaten and bound in a Sub-level cell.
By two o'clock in the afternoon, except for flashes of lightening, the sky was dark. The oppressiveness of the storm made it feel like the middle of the night; the weight of her self-imposed guilt made it feel like the sun had set for the last time. The streets, being battered by the torrential downpour, were flooding and the gentle breeze from the funeral had escalated into a heavy, dangerous wind.
She paced anxiously from the kitchen to the living room to her mother's studio, stopping frequently to glance out the windows. Each time the panes shuddered, she expected to find Jarod climbing into the house. Each time lightening flashed, she strained to see his form running across the lawn.
Each time she was disappointed, she wanted to break something.
"Where the hell are you?" she hissed to the empty room.
"I am right behind you."
Spinning toward the voice, Miss Parker let out a soft gasp as Jarod stepped into the hall. Mud was streaked across his forehead and cheek. His jacket was open, revealing a wet, form fitting T-shirt. The muscles in his chest and shoulders rippled as he wiped his face with the hem of the shirt but, though the beads of rain disappeared, his skin continued to glisten in the dim light.
"Are you all right?" she managed.
He nodded.
"You're shivering. Where have you been?"
Jarod took a step back and tugged at his jacket. When he was free of the garment, he tossed it over the bannister, reached into the inside pocket and retrieved a large, folded, plastic ziploc bag.
"Finding your happily ever after."
Her brows furrowed in confusion and, without pulling her eyes from his, she took his offering. Spreading the damp plastic to its natural size, she looked at its contents - an envelope and a folded document that held the stamp of a Notary.
"Open it," he laughed, as he slid out of his shoes. "I promise, it's good."
Glancing up at him, she ripped at the bag and reached inside, pulling out the sealed envelope. Her name was written neatly across the front and underlined with a flourish. The handwriting was unmistakable.
"This is my father's handwriting," she whispered. Looking up at Jarod, she shook her head. "I don't understand."
"Your father's personal effects arrived at the Centre last night." Disappearing into the hall bathroom, he retrieved a towel and ran it across his face and hair. "These items were among them."
"You went to the Centre?"
"Only for a short time," he admitted. Draping the towel around his neck, he used the bannister for support, pulled off his wet socks and shoved them into the mouth of his right shoe. "When I arrived, I discovered that Raines had moved everything to his house in the woods. My guess is that he had intended to destroy whatever had the potential of ruining his plans. Fortunately, the boxes arrived from the Canary Islands too late for him to take care of them before the funeral."
"Boxes," she repeated softly. "How many boxes?"
"I saw three."
"And, you . . . you looked through all of them?"
He nodded.
The house shook with thunder and, for a moment, it felt as if all the air had escaped the room. Suddenly lightheaded, she reaching back for the stair railing and, instead, found the Pretender's hand. She leaned into him, allowing him to lower her to the third step and then dropping her head to her knees. When she lifted her eyes, Jarod was sitting beside her, holding a glass of water to her lips.
Though she was still trembling, after a few sips of the drink, she slipped her hand back into the plastic pouch. Once the remaining document was freed from its sleeve, it took a few seconds before her mind and eyes joined forces. As the words printed on the front page, in bold type, came into focus, she felt a cold fist tighten around her lungs.
"This is his Will," she whispered.
"Look at the date. Your father had it drawn up a month after his jump from the plane. It supercedes anything Raines or Lyle may have, and it names you as Aaron's sole guardian."
She knew he had spoken but, at the moment, Miss Parker was not interested in what he had said. Slowly drawing her eyes from the legal papers, she glared at the Pretender.
"You read it. You went through my father's personal effects. While I was watching them lower him into the ground, you were up to your elbows in things he never meant you to see."
His apparent confusion did nothing but fuel her anger. Rising from the stairs, Miss Parker glared at the man who remained sitting. "You had no right, Jarod. You had no right to go through my father's things without asking me."
"I didn't want to upset you," he said and she wondered if he realized how condescending he sounded. "I had no idea what I was looking for or, for that matter, if the boxes and their contents still existed. If the search turned up nothing . . ."
"That's not why you kept quiet," she accused. The more heated her words became, the tighter she gripped the Will in her hand. "You were looking for secrets. You were looking for something about my father to use against me."
"No. I would never . . ."
"Do not finish that sentence," she warned, pointing a finger at him. "You and I both know that you've taken great pleasure in revealing the lies in my family history."
"Parker, you have no idea what you're saying." Jarod stood, his physique casting an intimidating shadow on the wall as lightening flashed in the window behind her. "I did not risk my freedom to search Raines' house just to discredit your family."
"Of course you didn't. Tell me, Jarod, how many boxes did you have to search before you found the scrolls?"
"If I had found the scrolls, I would have told you."
"Really? Or would you have hidden them until you had a chance to analyze them on your own, first?" she dared. "Is that why it took you so long to return? Were you hiding the scrolls?"
"Parker, you are not making sense. None of this had anything to do with the scrolls," he insisted, watching helplessly as she put more distance between them. "All I was trying to do was make you happy. I had no ulterior motive, no malicious intent, when I kept my activities a secret. I was just doing what I thought was best."
Miss Parker released a sad, sarcastic laugh. "You don't see the irony in this, do you? You are so quick to condemn my parents for their lies yet, when I catch you doing it, you have the balls to claim it's for my own good."
When the Pretender responded only with a slight nod of his head, the brunette moved directly in front of him and looked into his face, searching for some sign of an apology. Then, before he could say a word, she dropped the Will at his feet and moved back to the window.
"Your father did an excellent job of making sure these papers would stand up in a court of law," he said as he picked up the documents. "They are perfectly legal, Parker."
"They're useless, Jarod. Lyle and Raines will claim they're a forgery, just as I did with the first one."
"They are not forgeries."
"It doesn't matter," she said, facing him with her arms still crossed. "The Gruesome Twosome will threaten, or bribe, a judge to rule otherwise. They'll bring in experts and Aaron . . . Aaron won't understand what's happening."
"We'll explain it to him."
Blinking away the tears that filled her eyes, she shook her head and pushed past him. "Aaron is isolated, Jarod, almost as much as you were at the same age. He depends on Lyle, and trusts him the same way you trusted and depended on Sydney. They'll tell him lies, about me and my motivation for wanting custody because they know he'll believe them. I don't want him afraid of me, Jarod."
"Parker, that's never going to happen," he promised. "You're just exhausted. We don't have to discuss this now. You need to rest."
His hand fell gently on her shoulder but she shirked it away. "I may be dead on my feet, but no amount of sleep will change the facts, Jarod. If we do this your way, if we go back to the courts, I have a good chance of losing Aaron, forever. I am not willing to let that happen."
"You aren't suggesting that we leave him where he is, are you?"
"I don't know what I'm suggesting," she growled, raking her fingers through her hair. "Maybe he is better off with them."
"From the moment you brought Aaron into this world, you have fought to protect him from the Centre," he said, softly. "You love him and, for the first time ever, I agree with something your father has done. He appointed you the boy's guardian, Parker. He trusted you to raise his son."
"Don't do that," she hissed. "Don't use my father against me. I told you, there is no way I can win a custody battle."
"We are misunderstanding each other a lot, tonight," he sighed. "Look at me, Parker." When she did as he commanded, Jarod smiled and gently pushed the hair from her eyes. "I promise, you will not lose him. You and I will figure out a way to save Aaron, together."
Unable to comprehend what he was promising, Miss Parker stared at the man. His hair was still damp, his shirt was wet and his jeans were caked with mud. Suddenly realizing that he was barefoot, and standing on the cold, wood floor of her hall, Miss Parker pulled towel from his shoulder and gently wiped the scratch of dirt from his forehead.
"You're shivering," she said, softly. "If you're going to help me, you need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia."
"You're exhausted," he countered, mirroring her tone. "If you're going to help Aaron, you need to get some sleep before you collapse."
Taking a deep breath, Miss Parker released it slowly and handed him the towel. "So, we have a deal? You'll help me get Aaron, even if I don't choose to go through the courts?"
He smiled and nodded. "I am willing to do anything necessary to save the boy, Parker. We have a deal."
"Parker, no, don't do this. You don't . . ."
She heard the loud crack as Lyle struck the man across the face, bouncing his head off the headboard. There were violent sounds of a struggle as he was gagged, but she did not turn to see the damage. Instead, she folded her arms and moved from the bedroom.
"Do we have a deal?" she asked, when her twin followed her into the hall.
"Not until I hear the whole story. I want to know how you caught him."
She raised an eyebrow and looked over her shoulder at her captive. With his arms spread to the side and his wrists were bound to the bed posts, his head hung limply over his chest. A washcloth, held in his mouth by a torn strip of the towel that lay discarded at his side, kept him quiet but the dark eyes that met her gaze spoke volumes.
"He showed up the night before the funeral, wanting to be my hero, wanting to help me grieve Daddy's death."
Lyle raised an eye brow and looked at the bound man. "Is that so? Why didn't you mention it at the funeral?"
"He left early that morning," she replied. "I thought he was gone for good."
Moving back into the room, she crossed to the bed and took in Jarod's condition. Blood trickled from the fresh cuts made by his wrist restraints during the struggle. His ankles were tied together and then tethered below the mattress at the foot of the bed. Even from where she stood, she could see the bruises that were emerging at the top of his feet. When the Pretender shifted self-consciously under her gaze, she turned her eyes back on her twin.
"It wasn't until later that afternoon, when he showed up at the house, that I realized I had an opportunity. He told me about the boxes Raines has at his house, and showed me the Will Daddy had drawn up while he was in exile. He said he wanted to help me get custody of Aaron."
"If you were so desperate to get the boy, why didn't you let him help you?"
"I knew a court battle wouldn't work," she said, moving around the bed. "After everything you and Raines put me through, last time, I knew that if you didn't hand the boy over to me, I would never get custody."
Lyle smirked and moved to her side, adding the weight of his stare to hers as he watched the bound Pretender. "How did he end up like this?"
Dropping her arms to her side, Miss Parker sat beside Jarod. He recoiled, and made a guttural protest that was trapped by the gag, as she reached out to stroke his hair. "I was exhausted. I hadn't slept in days. I told him I didn't want to be alone and asked him to stay with me."
"I see."
"No, you don't!" she hissed, shooting him a withering glare. "Jarod stayed because he thought he could help me. He thought he had something I needed and trusted that I wouldn't betray him."
"Worked out well for him, don't you think?"
Turning her attention back on the Pretender, she let her hand slide down the side of his face. "I fixed us each a drink, telling him I needed it to sleep, and we toasted our partnership. His drink didn't have alcohol, but the sleeping pills dissolved easily and Jarod drank it without hesitation. Within minutes, he could barely stand."
"And he woke up like this?" he grinned. Moving closer, he lightly fingered the deep gash in Jarod's left wrist until the man winced and let out a soft moan. "I wish I could have seen the look on his face."
Slapping his hand away from Jarod, Miss Parker rose from the bed. "I'm sure you can think of something much more creative to do to him, to elicit similarly entertaining results. The sooner you sign Aaron over to me, the sooner you can start having your fun. So, do we have a deal?"
"You are aware that I have two Sweepers downstairs. What's preventing me from just taking him?"
Without taking her eyes off Lyle, she slid her gun from its holster with one hand and ripped the gag from Jarod's mouth with the other. Forcing the muzzle of the automatic into the Pretender's mouth, she ordered him to remain still and smiled at Lyle when Jarod obeyed the command.
"You really expect me to believe you will kill him? Please."
Grabbing a handful of Jarod's hair with her free hand, she pulled the man's head back until he had no choice but to look at her. His dark eyes were wide and, she thought, beginning to show signs he understood what was happening to him.
"Do you have any idea the things he's done to me, over the years?" she hissed, glaring at the Pretender as she spoke to her brother. "Ten years ago, I was successful in my career at the Centre. I trusted my family. I had a sense of purpose. Now, I have nothing."
"And you blame him? This is your way of getting even."
Still holding the bound man in place, she slid her eyes to Lyle. "Jarod owes me. This is how I intend to make him pay. If you aren't willing to take him, in exchange for Aaron, I'll take his corpse to the Triumvirate. Aaron means nothing to them, compared to getting their Pretender. How do you think they'll react when they hear the details of his death?"
She stared at Lyle for a long moment, then turned back to the man in the bed and removed the gun with less care than when she inserted it, prompting a coughing fit from Jarod. She watched him, as he fought to catch his breath, her hand gripping his gag tightly in her right hand.
"I . . . trusted you," he mumbled. "Don't do this. Don't . . ."
While he struggled with his plea, Miss Parker disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned, she was holding a glass of water and a bottle of pills. The Pretender's eyes widened and, though he was still restrained, tried to back away from the woman.
"No. You don't have to do this, Parker. Please."
Ignoring him, she dropped four pills into the water and placed the bottle on the bed stand as she began stirring the solution. Curious, Lyle picked up the container.
"Pretty potent stuff," he said, as she straddled the bound man. "Are you sure you're not putting him to sleep for good?"
"It's a little stronger than I gave him last night, but he drank it willingly then," she admitted, looking down Jarod. "Somehow, I don't think I'm going to be as lucky this morning, so I have to allow for spillage."
While Jarod jerked his head from left to right, she forced him against the pillow and pressed the glass to his lips. Holding his nose, she poured the water into his mouth and ordered him to swallow. He spit it out, arched his back and tried to buck her off his body but Miss Parker persisted and, soon, most of the solution slid down his throat.
"Why?" he murmured, as she slid from his body. "Why are you doing this? All I wanted to do was help you."
Gently stroking his forehead as he succumbed to the drugs, Miss Parker whispered, "You are helping me, Jarod, and I am eternally grateful. This is the only way I can get Aaron away from the Centre. I couldn't do it without you."
Lyle looked from his sister to the drowsy man and nodded. "Okay. Let's say Raines and I decide to go along with this deal. You're a smart woman, Parker. I don't believe, for a second, that you're counting on the fact we won't be able to find you and take the boy back, once Jarod is secured."
"Not only won't you find us, you won't come looking for us," she said, facing Lyle.
"Really. And why is that?"
"Because, as I've mentioned, I have the DSA's. If I ever pick up your scent, I will not hesitate to do what Wonderboy should have done years ago. I will take them to every major news station in the country. I have absolutely no qualms in bringing the Centre down and sending you and Raines away for the rest of your lives."
His head tilted to one side, Lyle raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "You might be able to cut yourself a deal but, if we go to prison, we will take Sydney and Broots with us. You can't cut a deal for them, too."
A slow smile spread across her face. "Do we have a deal?"
He stared at her for a moment, then over her shoulder at the Pretender, who had closed his eyes. Finally, nodding, Lyle moved toward the bedroom door. "I will have the lawyers draw up the papers. They'll be ready to sign in a few hours."
"They're ready to be signed right now. Jarod will be out for a few hours, which should give you plenty of time to transport him as long as Raines is here in the next thirty minutes, with Aaron. If he's not, I make a phone call to the Triumvirate and tell them how their precious Pretender died"
He turned as she held out a custody agreement. Taking the forms, he looked at the Pretender before reading the terms. "Everything seems to be in order. Do I need to ask who drew these up?"
Taking the document from him, she stepped into the hall and closed the bedroom door. "The forms are pretty straightforward, Lyle. Even in a semi-drugged state, Jarod has the ability to write them."
"But, why would he?"
She smiled and started down the stairs. "He didn't have a choice."
Raines arrived five minutes before the deadline. Not bothering to ring the doorbell, he walked into the house with Aaron at his side and Willie behind him.
Miss Parker rose from the dining room table and crossed to where her little brother stood, his hand still tucked inside Raines'.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi."
"Do you think I could get a hug?"
A small smile emerged on the boy's face, but as he took a step toward the woman, he came to a sudden stop. The grin disappeared and, with wide eyes, Aaron looked up at Raines who still had a tight hold on the boy's hand.
"Let him go," she ordered, not bothering to hide the threat in her tone.
Glancing at the boy, the old man nodded and followed the command but Aaron did not move. Confused, the child looked between the adults, hoping for someone to tell him what to do.
"It's okay, Honey, you didn't do anything wrong," Miss Parker promised. Crouching in front of Aaron, she held out her arms. "Now, how about that hug?"
Hesitantly, Aaron complied with the request. By the time she released him, though, his smile had reappeared. Still at his eye level, Miss Parker returned the boy's grin and tenderly stroked his face.
"I've got a surprise for you," she whispered, conspiratorially.
"You do?"
She nodded and stood, keeping her hand around his. "It's in the kitchen."
"What is it?"
"Now, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" she laughed, escorting him to the room. Pushing open the door, she pointed to the table. "What do you think?"
The boy's eyes widened as he took in the reams of colored paper, crayons and water colors. "They're all for me?"
She nodded and helped him slide out of his jacket.
"Lyle, Mr. Raines and I have some business to take care of and, when we're done, you and I are going to take a little trip."
"We are? Just you and me?" he asked skeptically.
"Is that okay?"
He nodded then looked back at the art supplies. "What should I draw?"
"Anything you want," she smiled, placing a plastic mug of milk and a plate of cookies within his reach. "I just want you to stay here, until I come for you, okay?"
"Okay."
Leaving the boy, she stepped into the living room and glared at Raines and Willie. "Both of you, upstairs, with Lyle and the other two. I don't want any of you near him."
Though Raines' face hardened, he said nothing and moved up the stairs. Not waiting for her direction, he entered the bedroom, crossed to the bed and began examining the unconscious Pretender.
Miss Parker waited at the door, watching Raines go through the motions for only a few minutes before she interrupted him. "You got his vitals. That's enough of an exam. Now, sign the papers and get him the hell out of my house."
"Are we keeping you from something?" the old man asked.
"As a matter of fact, yes, you are," she snapped. "Aaron and I have a plane to catch."
"Fine," he wheezed. Motioning to Willie and the two sweepers, he said, "Take him to the car."
"Until you and Lyle have signed the papers," she said, standing between the bed and the men, "Jarod isn't going anywhere. Willie and the other two will sign as witnesses."
The men frowned but moved to the desk where the papers were laid out. A few minutes later, the transaction was complete. She watched as Willie released Jarod from his restraints and hoisted the man over his shoulder. Swallowing the urge to tell them to be careful, she fingered the angel pendant still hanging around her neck and stepped into the hall.
"Take the back stairs. I do not want Aaron to see him," she ordered, pointing toward the back of the house. "Is that understood?"
Willie glanced at Raines then nodded and started down the corridor. Immediately, Lyle's sweepers followed. Lyle and Raines, however, moved toward the front door.
"Aaron!" Lyle called, from the living room. "We're leaving."
A few seconds passed before the boy slipped sadly into the room. His eyes searched the room for Miss Parker. When she stepped beside him, he asked, in a small voice, "I thought we were taking a trip."
"We are," she promised. "The only people who are leaving are Lyle and Mr. Raines."
"Come here, Buddy," Lyle called, holding out his arms, "and give me a hug goodbye."
Reluctantly, the boy did as he was told, following it up by shaking Raines' hand, his eyes never leaving his sister's face. The moment his obligations were complete, Aaron took Miss Parker's hand and stood slightly behind her as the men moved toward the door.
"Goodbye, Parker," Lyle grinned, letting Raines move ahead of him. "Drop us a line, sometime."
"Don't count on it," she said, as he moved onto the porch. "But, you can give Jarod a message for me, when he comes to."
Lyle turned to face her. His first instinct was to deny the request but, the thought of being able to taunt the lab rat with a message from the person who betrayed him was too tempting. "What is it?"
"Tell him I said I thanks - I'm the closest I've ever been to my happily ever after."
Then, before Lyle could reply, Miss Parker closed the door.
THE END
feedback is a wonderful thing ;-)
Should I leave it there - or do you want an Epilogue?