A Love Story Chapter 31, an all my children fanfic

A Love Story

31)

Slipping in, he stilled his eyes on the shape that had finally fallen asleep, months of emotional and physical exhaustion having worn her down until even all that anger had been eased. Walking past the wreckage of the room, books shredded and clothes strewn about, he eyed the small form for a few moments.

It was with careful tenderness that he pushed her leg, dangling off the edge, onto the bed before shaking out the blanket at the foot of the bed, settling it on top of her with as much caution as he could manage, working not to wake her from the sleep she had gotten in months.

And there he stopped, watching her, thinking, simply considering. "Don't worry about it," he whispered finally, sliding fingers back through black hair, trying to comfort beyond words that could be used so easily. "Don't worry about me… I'm not worth it," he murmured, and the emotion was just enough, making his voice waver.

Forcing it down, refusing to give power to those thoughts that came so clearly now, Buck stepped back from her, eying the tabloids with disgust. He gathered them, at least what remained from when she had finally lost her own tenuous hold on herself and took them out with him, dropping them into one of the metal wastebaskets.

Any paper found met the same end, tossed in and then drenched in one of his fine Scotch's, finally set aflame to burn to ashes in the backyard of their home, smoke dissipating quickly while he packed their bags, intent to give her some sense of control, even if it came in the form of a vacation to some tropical place.

He'd no doubt have to drag her kicking and screaming there, obsessed as she was becoming with keeping him hidden away and secret. It wasn't supposed to be like this, a girl wasn't supposed to grow up like this, fighting just to keep herself safe on the most base level.

If he had to have someone carry her, Micaela was going with him. He didn't know where yet, not yet, but he'd come up with something when they got to the airport, come up with something as soon as they got out of Dallas. Dallas was home but it wasn't safe anymore, not for her and he could see it as easily as he saw the bags she was beginning to have under her eyes.

Home was with his daughter, wherever that was.

"You can't keep doing this."

She ignored her mother, continued to gaze out the windshield, desperately holding back the emotions making her want to just scream, just throw back her head and scream until everything had stopped, until her heart stopped aching and her head finally stopped feeling like it was too small for her brain.

The tears were harder to fight back and she reached up angrily, swiping one tear away hard enough to hit herself in the face.

When her mother set her hand on her shoulder, she jerked, flinging herself to the other side of the car and regarding the older woman with angry eyes and a flushed red face. As much as she might try, Colby didn't have Adam's control when it came to emotion and it showed these days, more easily, with each break in her sense of self.

"Colby—"

"I thought I was Janice this week," she ground out, barely keeping her voice from breaking under the flood of sensations coursing through her system, making the blood pound in her ears and the feel of her nails digging into her clothes, holding onto anything she could to keep from slipping away when it all broke under her.

"Colby, don't—"

"I want to go home."

There it was, everything put into a single sentence that made her mother go silent for some moments, eying her with pity. Knowing it was useless, knowing there was no point, Colby strangled back her next words and grabbed onto the door, opening it and climbing out. Slamming it shut, not caring if her mother stayed out there all night, Colby wrapped her arms tightly around herself before trudging back up to the place where it lived, the place that they called home. Wasn't home… never would be home. Home, no matter how battle-scarred or war torn, was always warm, was always the one place you wanted to go to.

Overhead, there was a rumble, the last warning before the first drops began to fall, slow at first and then with more force, making it hard to see and it was useless anyway. All the lights were out, nothing left and she hesitated, staring up at the farmhouse with a beaten kind of anguish, something that was getting harder and harder to control and hold onto when things ended like this.

But she was a Chandler, whether her mother liked it or not and, taking a quite breath, she let it out softly, not feeling the downpour she now stood in, blonde hair turning dark as it clung to her face and neck and back. The chill actually helped her, cooling that devastating heat that had been burning her from the inside out and she considered.

Wouldn't work forever and she knew it. Every time she ran, it got harder for her mother to find her, drag her back because, the simple fact was, she was getting more desperate with each passing day. It wasn't just her, not anymore. JR too… it was JR and it was Dad and what, was she just supposed to sit back and smile and laugh while her brother suffered and her father suffered when she should be able to get back to them, somehow, fight her way back to them?

With a renewed sense of purpose and new ideas beginning to soothe her tangled nerves, she entered the house and began to come up with ways to find her way home.

Palmer Cortlandt owned a very nice collection of cars and, grinning like an idiot, his son stood, eying the beauty before him with a lust-filled gaze, jingling the keys excitedly. Darting forward, he unlocked it, loving the electronic beep-beep that sounded, and climbed into the front seat, noting with slight annoyance how he had to stretch his feet to the pedals.

Peter Cortlandt, sadly, had not yet inherited his mother's height.

The car smelled beautiful, he decided, still grinning like a loon and he ran fingers along the steering wheel, fingering it and letting out a delighted 'ooh' at the feel of it. Okay, fine, maybe Petey had a disturbing amount of lust when it came to the BMW but could anyone really blame him?

No, he thought with an odd shiver of giddiness, no one would dare bitch about his love for the BMW…

It was only a matter of time until he got his chance to drive this thing, just a few more years left, if that and it would be his… hell he could see himself now… driving… showing exactly who the Cortlandt in this town really is… Petey grinned to himself, nodding in pleasure, leaning back in his seat as his hands tightened on the wheel…

"Petey!"

He looked over, catching sight of Kendall and immediately grinning, leaning forward in his seat and letting his glasses drop forward to rest on the tip of his nose, a flawless movement of great and mighty manliness which, of course, Kendall saw. Fluffing her curls and popping her gum, she darted forward.

Zach Slater and Ryan Lavery exchanged looks, the younger man scuffing his shoe on the cement. Zach just looked disgruntled as he spun on his heel and stomped off, muttering and swearing as he went. Ryan simply stood there and, when he noticed Kendall climb into the convertible, he shook his fist furiously.

Chuckling, Petey scooted down, stretching out and, flashing a grin at the giggling brunette beside him, he took off, streaking through the streets of Pine Valley with his father's Devil-may-care attitude, fearless and flawless, with Kendall giggling and, every few minutes, she flung her arms up, giving a mighty shriek of 'Woo-hoo!'

This was perfect, this was right and—

When someone slammed a palm against the window, Petey shrieked, flying around to stare wide-eyed at the blonde peering through the glass at him. Warily, like a jungle cat—at least as far as he was concerned—he opened the door, staring up at the woman with long blonde hair and cool eyes carrying a stack of papers under one arm.

"I'm looking for palmer Cortlandt."

For a moment he could only stare before remembering his father's words and offering her a cool look. "He was with me and my Mom last month on the fifth."

The look she gave him was almost lethal but he simply stared right back and, rolling her eyes, she poked him in the chest, studying him intently. "Tell me where you father is and I don't know anything about anything, especially not about anything from the fifth of last month… where's Palmer Cortlandt?"

"Playing with the dogs."

"Great," she muttered under her breath and, turning, she stalked away, vanishing into the shadows of the garage. Finally, rolling his eyes, he closed the door, sinking back into the soft leather seat and gripping the wheel calmly. A few minutes later, grinning, he was back in his BMW fantasy.

A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me
Satisfy me baby

Kendall had friends now in the casino and it paid off, easily landing her and JR a seat at the end of the bar. By the time the casino had been all but filled, they sat with their prospective drinks—Cosmo for Kendall and Scotch on the rocks for the Chandler—and JR was absently watching the milling masses at his back by way of the mirror that filled the wall behind the bar.

"So, what's with the Elvis in the background, anyway? I didn't really notice during Jailhouse Rock and I enjoyed Dixieland Rock but we've been listening to nothing but the King since I got here and I'm starting to wonder who it is that has the obsession."

Looking over, he studied her for a few moments before shrugging, tracing the edge of her glass with one fingertip, studying the way light flashed repeatedly off her rings as she did. "That would be Rob, one of Edie's favorites here. So, as her favorite, and since she is Zach's favorite, he's allowed to brainwash us all with He of the Blue Suede Shoes."

"Lovely," he murmured. He wasn't really bothered, after all, who didn't love and respect the King? But, the point was, he was more in the mood for the Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler. Plus, he had the horrible feeling that at any minute they were gonna go with some of Elvis' more depressing love songs and, really, JR wasn't in the mood for the Heartbreak Hotel or Are You Lonesome Tonight?

"So," she asked lightly, leaning forward to pat JR's leg, "How was the Chiropractor?"

Baby close your eyes and listen to the music
Drifting through a summer breeze
It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it
Come along with me and put your mind at ease

Leaving Maggie Stone of the Midget League to huff and puff, Maxie made a beeline for the couple sitting some ways away. Okay, fine, Zach-y couldn't leave her some evidence to provide a nice distraction; she'd make her own distraction… and his attention too. And there was, she had learned early on, no way to get attention better than through simple sympathy.

Setting off, she got close enough and then twisted, achieving the desired effect when her ankle bent and she pitched forward, stumbling before slamming down onto her hands and knees. Yeah, not quite graceful or elegant but, when Ethan Ramsey immediately jumped up, surging forward to gather her up in his arms, she was only barely able to keep from grinning like that cat that got the canary.

Amazing how gentlemanly this guy was, she decided, letting out an embarrassed laugh as she straightened, leaning her weight against him, and bracing a hand against his chest. Simone Torres was looking at her like it meant war and she quickly looked up at the young man, easily working up a blush. "These heels are just killing me, can you tell?"

"It isn't the heels you gotta worry about, sister," Torres snapped and Ramsey looked over at her, frowning in displeasure. When Simone just glared at both of them, he sighed, bending and lifting up the 'injured' young woman and heading towards one of the couches that lined two of the walls.

Laying her down and stretching her out, he propped up the foot, slipping off the heel and absently instructing Simone to find some ice for the ankle. The look on the other woman's face was almost too much and Maxie had no choice but to duck her head, hiding her smile behind a curtain of dark hair.

"Simone, please… she needs ice for this foot."

There was only a muffled choking noise from the Cambias princess when Simone hissed an expletive and took off, swearing and cursing as she tore through the casino. "There, there," he comforted her, stroking the ankle as gently as he could, too sweet for his own good and not even smart enough to realize it.

Zach picked up the sounds of Elvis Presley sometime and bit back his weary sigh, knowing it was useless to worry about it. The hierarchy of the casino was a strange and ever-fluxing show of give-and-take and, as much he enjoyed his work, he refused to think about any of the odder, more peculiar ways that his employees showed their own power and displayed themselves to the outside world.

One of the most memorable things that Zach had ever included sitting behind his desk, watching with slightly glazed eyes as Edie proceeded to show off her own might and awe in the face of a swarm of young waitresses and waiters. She'd had no problem extending her own power over the males but it had taken some subtle looks and an immovable stance to get the young women to give in to her.

Edie, at times, displayed all the primal instincts and intense awareness of some large jungle cat.

When he wasn't around she flawlessly ruled the roost and, hell, even when he was at the casino, which was quite often, she tended to take a more active and intense role in the inner workings of the many branches concerning not only the gambling but the spa, the employee daycare center, the restaurants and, of course, customer service.

Stepping off the elevator, he searched for a moment and, finding no flash of curl, he headed across, stopping when he caught sight of the two people sitting at the bar, talking and gesturing furiously. He fought back the sudden urge to dive behind some potted plant and instead started fiddling with the bar, refusing to look her way.

Come on baby I'm tired of talking
Grab your coat and let's start walking
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Don't procrastinate, don't articulate
Girl it's getting late, gettin' upset waitin' around

It took exactly two seconds for Kendall to realize that JR had not, like he had promised repeatedly, gone to a chiropractor. Swearing, she smacked his arm in a mix of annoyance and worry, and he gave her a dirty look, glaring right back as he shoved his drink out of the way. "It's none of you business, Kendall."

"It is if I care about you," she snapped in disgust before adding under her breath, "And God knows you make it hard sometimes."

"Yes, Ms. I'm-got-enough-abandonement-issues-to-support-a-mental-clinic-24-seven," he snarked and she rolled her eyes, studying him before narrowing her eyes. "Well, then, what are you taking?"

He gave her a look that she knew all too well, a look that tried so desperately to seem innocent that it gave away, very quickly, how guilty he really was. "Damn it, JR." she reached over, managed to stick her hands in two of his jacket pockets before he got the chance to smack her hands away angrily. "I don't want you on any pain medication."

"Medication, Kendall… medication, as in doctor-prescribed." Refusing to meet her eyes, he went back to studying the people milling around, simply enjoying being out on the town, probably happy to be away from kids. The thought made him snort softly, bitterly, shaking his head. "And it's working wonderfully, okay?"

"Uh-huh," she muttered. Any other time, she wouldn't really be worried, but with everything that had happened lately, the thought of him taking anything made her nerves tangle in wary warning. The last thing she needed was for him to slip back into his more unhealthy habits and, unfortunately, he was older and proved every day how much more daring he was than before.

Kendall was very suddenly, very deeply worried.

"Zach?"

Wonderful… bracing himself for anything she might throw at him, he turned around, regarding the small Kane with a cool hazel gaze. Looking as fine and elegant as always, she stood before him, smirk firmly in place and glare settled on her usually pretty face. "Erica, what can I do for you?"

"I think there's something we need to address."

The absence of the usual flustered hatred was making him wary but, very suddenly not caring, he shrugged his shoulders, silently asking her to 'address' she thought they needed to bring out in the open. He hated the smile on her face, the slight lift of her lips and he aware of how innately smug she looked.

When she spoke, it was just a sentence, just a single question that he forced himself not react to. No response, nothing for her to detect but, it seemed, she didn't need to read or detect anything for the smile on her face, blooming, was absolutely giddy. "I hope you enjoy your stay, Ms. Kane."

It was all he could get out, grind out before he spun and took off, striding back to his office and taking sanctuary there, in the dark, hating her and how right she was, because, as much as he did hate it, she was right. His fingers fiddled, playing with papers and folders, anything to keep his mind clear. Didn't work, of course it didn't but, hey, when did anything work…?

AN: Make me a happy writer and tell me if you liked this! And, if you want to make a guess to what Erica might have said, please do! I swear, it's a killer... well, not literally but let's just say that Erica can be smart when she wants to be... in a nasty way...