Twenty-Two

Patrick slammed the door to his room and stormed inside. Then stopped. He put his hands on his hips and glared at the floor, breathing heavy. Every word of his run in with his father was running through his mind in an endless loop. The smell of sweat and alcohol was still pungent in his nose. What was the worst, though, was the look and air of remorse that always got through his defenses and made him want to reach out and make it all better.

Patrick closed his eyes and swallowed. He remembered the first time he'd seen his father after his mother died. It was in a bar. Noah hadn't been home in days and the funeral was being held that afternoon. There had been an unbearable outpouring of sloppy, drunken grief and a litany of apologies and the same look in Noah's eyes as today – powerless drowning. For years Patrick had tried to make it better. He had dragged him out of bars. He had tried to make him proud with good grades to inspire him to go back to work. He had made feeble attempts at tough love. In the end all he could do was cut his father off and pretend he was already dead.

He had been doing okay with that – or was at least was numb to it – until Robin had managed to do what he had never been able to do, pull him out of the bar and back into his life. And together they had taken him the rest of the way. They had saved his life and forged a tentative family bond. Then something had happened to spur Noah to throw it all away and crawl back into an alcoholic haze. Patrick didn't know what it was. He had missed it, couldn't stop it. Maybe if he hadn't gone out of town he could have…he stopped his thoughts short. The Al-Anon jargon was starting to come back to him. "Easy Does It" or "Let Go and Let God." Patrick's face contorted. Somewhere in the last few months he had stopped bracing himself. Stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had absorbed Robin's positive attitude. And now he was on the roller coaster again.

Patrick ran his hands over his face. His heart was still pounding.

He had once again seen the man in Noah that he had always admired and aspired to be. Now, that other man was back. The one that Patrick fought with every fiber of his being not to be. His tongue darted out and moistened his bottom lip. With a jerky motion he turned around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind himself.

"A beer," Patrick told the Metrocourt bartender as his eyes skimmed over the multi-colored bottles that had such a stranglehold of his father. He was not him; he could have this beer, maybe even another one and then walk away. Tomorrow he would go back to work and he would continue to be a brilliant neurosurgeon. He couldn't control his father, but this he could control.

"Well, well, well. Saint Robin let you off the leash?"

"Hello, Carly." Patrick took another sip without bothering to look at the woman who had insinuated herself onto the stool next to him.

"You're in a mood, what happened? Get bored? Did you do something to disappoint her and she gave you a lecture? Decide you were ready for a real woman?"

"Shouldn't you be with your kids, Carly?"

"Oooooh. Did Saint Robin teach you that one?" Carly rolled her eyes and smoothed the shiny, blue material of her disco dress over her unbound breasts suggestively.

Patrick turned his head and looked at Carly. "Don't you ever get bored with your vendetta? What did you do for entertainment while Robin was in Paris?" Patrick shook his head and turned back to his beer.

"You know." Carly cocked her head. "There was something missing, I couldn't put my finger on it." Carly walked her finger over to Patrick and put it on his sleeve.

He looked down at it, then her and then took another sip of beer.

"You're no fun." Carly sighed dramatically and thrust her unbound chest out. "But I think I know something that will free you from the prison of tediousness."

"What's that? Marry a mobster?" Patrick smirked.

Carly's eyes flashed at Patrick's first outright insult. "Well, how about while you're here nursing your beer and bad mood, Saint Robin is meeting her other lover behind your back." She bared her teeth.

"You really should get your insults straight, Carly." Patrick laughed.

"Fine, don't believe me." Carly shrugged with feigned unconcern. "You're the one who doesn't see what's right in front of his eyes. When you come to your sense I won't say I told you so too many times." Her eyes darted to the side, her lips thinned and she pressed a sloppy kiss to Patrick's cheek. "Hello, Robin."

Robin watched the woman slink away with a disgusted look on her face. She shook her head and sat down on the stool next to Patrick. "How did things go with your dad?" she asked quietly.

"Dandy." Patrick held his bottle up to signal for another. "You want one?" he turned to look at her.

Robin frowned at the sight of his bloodshot eyes. "How many have you had?" she asked.

"I don't have a drinking problem if that's what you're wondering. That's my father's weakness. Or is it love that really screwed him up?" Patrick asked rhetorically.

"Patrick," Robin said gently and put her hand on his arm.

"There's nothing I can do to stop him." Patrick's voice was quiet and sad.

Robin leaned in closer and put her forehead against the side of his head. "No. There isn't, except be here when he's ready to help himself. How about we blow this popsicle stand and order room service?"

Patrick smiled sadly and signaled for the tab.

He put the key into the lock and walked into the room. "Shit!" He kicked the door shut behind him as he searched with his left hand for the light switch. The harsh light momentarily blinded him and he put his hand over his eyes and groaned. A rustle caught his ear and he dropped his hand. His eyes widened and Noah Drake jumped back and hit the door. "What the…Anna?" His mouth went dry at the sight of her sitting on his bed with her legs crossed under her thigh skimming dress. Noah looked around wildly and straightened up. "You scared the shit out of me, Anna, darling." His words were slurred.

"That's obvious." Anna stood up and walked up to him. She sniffed.

"What are you doing?" he chuckled and blinked innocently.

"You look like shit and you smell like a dirty bar." She looked into his eyes. "But you're not drunk. What the hell is going on Noah Drake?" Anna's clipped words echoed in the small, shabby room that looked just like what it was, a room above a bar.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Noah kept a bemused smile pasted on his face as he tried to walk around Anna. Despite her small stature, though, he couldn't seem to get past her. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"Sexy." Noah's lips quirked into a smile until he saw the very serious and threatening look on Anna's face. He sighed again. "Why don't you have seat." He looked around. All there was in the room was the bed, a beat up desk, matching dressed and a wooden chair. He pulled the chair over and offered her the bed again.

Anna gave him the evil eye and then sat back down on the bed, crossing her legs. Noah sat down across from her. His movements were smooth and easy. He put his hands on his thighs and leaned back against the seat casually.

"Pier nine."

Anna's eyes narrowed.

"It's Morgan's territory, but there's activity going on that even he doesn't know about. They're hiring extra hands for a shipment that's coming in next Thursday. A shipment expected by Lorenzo Alcazar."

Anna's eyes widened. "How do you know this? Why do you know this?" her question was tight with anger and fear.

"People talk in front of drunks." He shrugged, looking not only unconcerned, but rather smug.

Anna stood up and walked around his chair to stand behind him. "Let me get this straight. You're pretending to be drunk so that you can spy on Lorenzo Alcazar." She put her hand on his shoulder.

"In a nutshell."

She squeezed, harder and harder until Noah was leaning sideways in his chair grimacing.

Anna leaned down into his face. "Did Robert put you up to this?" she growled.

"Y…yes!" Noah groaned.

Anna let go. "I'm going to kill him!" She stalked around the room, fuming.

Noah stood up and rubbed his shoulder. "He didn't make me do anything. I wanted to help."

Anna spun around and faced him. "This isn't a game! These are real people who will not hesitate to kill you, they don't care that you're a Senator's son!"

"They won't hesitate to kill you either. Or your daughter or my son. Or your ex-husband, for that matter. From what I hear this arms dealer is already pissed that Robert helped the mother of his child escape his clutches."

"Robert is filling your head with nonsense."

"Don't lie to me, Anna." Noah grasped Anna's arms, startling her. "I've seen Alcazar at the hospital trying to get information on Skye Chandler from your daughter. I may just be a hapless surgeon and not a spy, but I'm going to do whatever I can to protect you and our children."

"And pay with your life?" Anna shook her head.

"I forfeited my life years ago. All this is just bonus."

"Don't talk like that, Noah!" Anna grasped his arm and looked up at him worriedly.

"Don't worry, I'm not out to get myself killed." He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. "I've missed you so much." He scraped his fingers down her back.

"I missed you too." Anna tilted her head back and looked up at him.

"How long can you stay?" he asked huskily.

TBC