Entwined Together
Summery: Jack was the doctor leading the seemingly perfect life. Kate was the independent woman running from the law. Both had baggage, had flaws, but when they meet one lonely night in a bar, their lives become entwined, almost as if fate brought them together.
Chapter Eight: Hidden Feelings
Jack had never felt more at a loss than he did just then. He didn't know whether to confront Kate or leave it alone. He didn't want to believe she did what that the reporter accused her of. Somehow in his mind he couldn't see her as a dangerous murderer. Kate, who had come to his house as a last resort full of fear and desperation. Murderers aren't afraid, at least they weren't supposed to be, because then they wouldn't be in control.
The thing he couldn't wrap his mind around was why she had been so willing and ready to go with him to his house at the bar that night. Why would she do that if she was running from the law? Because there was always that off chance that he had already seen her on the news.
Jack found himself wondering who Wayne Jansen was, and why Kate had allegedly killed him. Was he related to her? Was he her husband who had knocked her around one too many times? Or was he just a random stranger who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?
He was astonished at how many questions were taking over his free thinking. None of them implied that she was innocent. All of them were based on the assumption of guilt. And Jack hated himself for it. But at the same time it was the only thing that made any sense because why else would they be after her? And why else would she run?
Jack turned his attention to the staircase that now represented the rest of his life. If he indeed confronted her, then she would get scared or possibly angry that he now knew, and would run again. Or, if he let it slide then she would keep assuming he was still in the dark, and he didn't know if he could handle the lie that would grow bigger and bigger between them until it kept them so far apart that they couldn't no longer communicate, or even see who the other was anymore. No matter how he looked at it, he was destined to lose.
That must've been why she came back. All she wanted to do was get away but someone must've recognized her. The bitter truth in that statement that had formed in his mind nearly brought tears to his eyes. She wasn't kidding when she said she had nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to go except prison.
He knew that if she came down those stairs right now that his undying frustration would be brought into light, and that there would be nothing he could do, or would do to stop it. Not just the unavoidable truth, but everything that had led up to this day. His never-ending stress from the hospital, the divorce that was coming up, but most of all, Kate.
So Jack did the only thing he could do in his mind. He would just let it go. When she was ready to tell him, she would. The time just wasn't right. Besides, he wasn't exactly sure that he was ready to see her leave.
When she muttered a "hello Jack" he nearly jumped a foot in the air as he was shocked from his seat. He tried to shrug it off, saying a quick "Hey Kate" back at her, but he could tell from her amused expression that she wasn't buying it.
"What's with you?" she asked, taking a seat in the previously occupied sofa.
"Nothing. Did they fit okay?" he asked as casually as he could muster, trying to ease away from that particular conversation.
Kate nodded. "A bit big, but they'll do."
"Good."
"Are you okay?" Kate asked, and Jack hated how surprised he was at the amount of concern in her voice.
"Yeah I'm fine. Just have a headache, that's all," he lied, but he knew just by looking at her that she wasn't buying it.
Fortunately for him, she let it go, and an awkward silence followed. Jack found himself overcome by an sudden urge to leave his house. He wanted nothing more than to take his car keys, leave Kate, and just drive wherever the hell the car took him. He wanted to get away from the stress building up inside him, and it only got worse every time he looked at Kate.
"I'm going to go out for a while," he stated before it even registered what he was doing. His legs pulled him out of his seat and took him over to the table where the car keys resided.
Kate followed suit and stood up, her face screwed up in confusion, but Jack could read some understanding hidden somewhere as well. "Where are you going?" she asked quietly, her arms crossed. She looked down at the floor, and he wondered for a second whether she knew that he knew about her. A part of him believed she did, and this knowledge just made him want to leave even more.
"I don't know. Somewhere where I can get rid of this headache. You don't have to come," he explained, hoping she wouldn't get the wrong idea. He could tell already that she was feeling a bit hurt by his announcement that he was leaving.
"Will you be long?"
"No, I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours. Just make yourself at home, and don't wait up for me. Please," he urged, staring deep into her eyes, hoping he could find an answer, some sort of explanation for her actions, but he found none, not to his surprise.
Kate nodded, and Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Well, I'm going. I won't be long," he said one last time, then left, the Mercedes never so welcoming as it was just then.
Kate knew something was wrong the minute she was downstairs. Jack was so tenseā¦it wasn't like him. All of a sudden he was just a wreck, and Kate felt like she was watching him crumble right before her eyes.
He downplayed it though, probably for her benefit. He pretended like nothing was wrong, and Kate didn't push him because he wouldn't tell her. Well, he wouldn't tell her until the time was right.
And for some reason, him leaving, saying he was going out because he needed to find someplace to get rid of his headache. Personally, she saw nothing wrong with his house, as it was big and quiet. Much too quiet for a house of that size.
She found herself wondering if his wife, or ex-wife, had called him. She knew that communication with someone you still loved could hurt. But the phone never rang.
Then a horrible thought occurred to her. What if he knew? She didn't know how that was possible, but there was always that possibility, wasn't there? With every passing day that she spent in his house, the probability that he would find out only grew bigger, and with its size, so did its weight. She knew that if she didn't do something soon, she would be crushed, and then there would be no lifting it. It would always be there.
And now she found herself with nothing to do. Back before she had met Jack, during her early years on the run, she used to pray for an empty house, maybe stay a couple nights, find some spare cash she knew that they wouldn't know would go missing. And she even had her lucky days, but most of the time there was nothing. Now that she had an empty house that was definitely full of things she could take and sell, or just take for her survival, she hesitated.
It was because she couldn't betray Jack. The minute she saw him, she knew that he was the kind of man who would take betrayal very hard. Sensitive, if you will. Every time she tried to convince herself that today would be the day that she would leave, she would remember looking into those gorgeous big brown eyes, and her heart would melt. She just couldn't do it.
She settled down into Jack's abandoned seat and turned on the TV. He had been watching the news. Nothing that wasn't normal. Who didn't watch the news? She flipped through the channels, desperate for something to take her mind off of matters. But, as luck would have it, nothing was on, so she was reduced to looking through Jack's DVD collection in the hopes that there would be something worthy of paying attention to for two hours. She settled on Breakfast at Tiffany's, something that was a breather, and that she didn't have to think about. She had seen it too many times to count.
When that was over, Jack hadn't returned yet. Not quite feeling in the mood to watch another movie, she stood up and turned her attention to the bookshelves. Jack seemed the type to appreciate good literature, and she wasn't disappointed. All the classics were there, plus a few recent authors, mostly Stephen King and Nora Roberts. She hid a smile as she passed a few of her stuff. Must've belonged to his wife, she figured, and picked up Atlas Shrugged. It was pretty thick, but at least that way she wouldn't finish it and still be worried about Jack. Not that she was worried. She had known him less than a week; she had no right to question his reasons.
And then the guilt started to come back. He always refused to admit it, promising her that she wasn't, but Kate wasn't fooled. She was burdening him, whether he even knew it or not. Her presence was getting to him, however positively or negatively. She was stifling him.
She shook her head and pushed the thoughts out of her mind, focusing instead on the book. She would just read, forget about Jack, and wait until he came back before she went to sleep.
But it didn't work out that way. By the time Jack returned around midnight, he found Kate asleep on the couch, the thickest book he owned strewn across her chest, forgotten as she had most likely unintentionally drifted asleep, waiting up for him. He shook his head, amused by the sight in front of him, and went to the hall closet and pulled out a light blue blanket. He slowly removed the book and placed it on the coffee table. She stirred, but didn't wake up. Jack gently placed the blanket on top of her and turned off the lights and, with one last look behind him, went upstairs.
A/N: Sorry this took so long. With school and all. Today was a half day and the only chance I've gotten so far to write. Hopefully it didn't disappoint. Thanks to lalalander, X-Kate-X, Ella Julian, kickflipchick, IrishJateFan, SoInLuv, jimmy-barnes-13, Peppy87, and Orlando-crazy for reviewing. Please review!
