Chapter 21

Brooke wakes up with pain in her back and neck, tender breasts and a desperate need to pee. Thirty weeks, two days, and counting. She gets up cautiously, aware that her balance is completely screwed. A quick look at her husband's shape. Tenderness, lust and a little envy for what looks like deep, restful sleep, all mixed in her head. She waddles to the bathroom, and, after relieving herself, she stops to stare at herself in the full body mirror. Tired face, faint darkness under her eyes. Hair back to her natural chestnut, shoulder length and bed-messy. A plain white cotton t-shirt, comfy support bra for her enlarged, no-longer-so-perky breasts and granny panties. A large, high and rather firm baby bump. She thinks she looks disgusting. Giggles. Her pervy boy toy thinks the damn bump is the most arousing thing since the lap dance...

While she is posing in front of the mirror, baby kicks her, probably punishing for being such a narcissist. "Ouch, you little slut!" She whispers, her loving tone a contrast with her words.

Timing. She thought she was so clever. How do they say? Humans plan, God laughs. A horrible little road. Two misses. A six-week miscarriage. Harsh. They very nearly gave up then. Another miss. Finally... she will be starting medical school with a month-old baby at home. Brooke laughs softly. Timing. Brooke's mind drifts to the plans for the day. Sam should be home for lunch, driving from Charlottesville, where she's finishing her freshman year at the University of Virginia. Brooke's graduation ceremony. A full afternoon. Duke likes it a little grand, or so she heard. At night, a nice Scott family barbecue. She's looking forward to one of Nathan's steaks for a change.

Brooke walks back to bed, and notices Lucas is awake, facing her and smiling. He recites in a low tone:

"I'm nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody too?

Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!

They'd banish us, you know!"

His voice. It does unspeakable tingly things to her. Even after all this time. She shakes her head. He's been reciting Dickinson's poetry at her sometimes. The jerk. He wants to name her Emily. Brooke is a little frustrated. It's such a common name... She has already decided to go along. He doesn't know it yet, though. Besides, the woman's poetry has grown on her. She's sneaked a peak at a book, her poetry and some learned commentary. It sucks in print. But when he recites it...

"How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog.

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!"

The words penetrate her awareness and tickle her. She snickers. She was somebody for a while and hated it. It nearly killed her. Then she became nobody and she's never been happier. Yeah, Miss Dickinson! She climbs back on the bed and cuddles with him, spooning."I like this one."

"Figures." He embraces her, dropping a sweet lingering kiss on the back of her neck. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Very pregnant. A little horny."

"I can do something about one of these." He caresses her left breast over the shirt and bra.

Brooke is a little sleepy, and they have a long day ahead. Still, some things must come first. "No foreplay. I just need you inside me."

With practiced teamwork, and after a little rearranging, they find their position. She is lying sideways, back a little arched. He's behind her, one hand on her hip, holding her in place She moans softly as he enters her. Not the best position, but good enough. The baby kicks her. She pats her bump and scolds. "Be quiet, baby girl. Your father and I are trying to have a little fun." Brooke closes her eyes, tingles spreading throughout her body, while her bump keeps moving with a mind of its own.

Lucas place a large hand on her belly while he continues pumping slowly. After a few seconds, their daughter quiets down. Brooke would laugh, if she wasn't otherwise distracted. "Fucking baby whisperer."

Lucas, not quite as far gone yet, laughs. "Shut up, Pretty Girl." Brooke giggles, and then closes her eyes and goes back to her fun.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Lucas gets up as soon as he hears Emily crying. Brooke wakes up as well, but grabs his pillow to cover her face and tries to go back to sleep. Lucas stumbles a bit, the new place still unfamiliar.

It's a largish two-story four-bedroom house, fairly new and well-kept, a small front yard and a tiny backyard. A quiet street, and a park nearby. A fifteen-minute walk to the East Carolina campus and the Brody School of Medicine. And, incidentally, an hour drive from their beloved beach house.

Lucas enters the nursery and picks up his tiny daughter. She's gained a little weight over the past month, but still feels like the most precious bit of nothing in his hands. When he picks her up, she stops crying, comforted by Lucas' familiar smell and knowing that a breast would soon appear. Pale blonde fuzz in a round head and clear green-caramel eyes in the same shape as her mother's. A perfect cupid's bow mouth in bright pink and an upturned little nose. "You're going to break some hearts, Em. Just like your sister and your mother." Both Brooke and Lucas dislike baby talk, speaking to their daughter like they speak to everyone else, just softer.

Emily is a quiet, somewhat shy baby who dislikes bright lights and sudden noises and, so far, seems to enjoy cuddling and music. Lucas takes advantage of his daughter's patience to change her wet diaper and give Brooke a couple extra minutes to sleep. It's a big day. First day of medical school. Lucas is anxious, almost like he's going to school with Brooke.

The summer brought on some big changes in his life. He quit coaching, figuring that away games, a wife in a demanding school and an infant wouldn't work well together. He'll be running a writer's workshop at the university, just to get out of the house a bit. Otherwise, It will be the stay-at-home dad for a couple of years, keeping up with his writing, as circumstances allow. He's actually looking forward to it. Coaching a talentless team was a little frustrating, this past year.

Emily is beginning to fuss when Lucas gets back. The noise awakes Brooke. She props a pillow on the headboard and sits with her back against it. She places her daughter on her left breast, still just half awake. She looks tired. Lack of sleep and still recovering from the delivery. It was a difficult twenty-four hour labor...

Lucas watches them, while Brooke wakes up, humming and focusing her whole being on their little daughter. Brooke complains sometimes, she wouldn't be herself if she didn't, but Lucas is sure she truly enjoys nursing Emily. Lucas props another pillow against the headboard and sits next to them. Brooke sighs and leans towards him, resting her head against his chest. He kisses the crown of her head, feeling like he is a little part of their bonding.

For the couple, talking is nice, and they both enjoy it, but their silences are even better. Fifteen minutes later, Emily is still working on Brooke's left breast. Soft sucking and some other baby noises is all they hear. A stupid question bubbles up in Lucas' mind. "How does it feel?"

Brooke, knowing the odd turns in Lucas' big brain, guesses instantly what he means. "It's hard to describe."

"You seems to enjoy it."

"It's relaxing."

"Hm."

When Brooke speaks again there is a touch of sadness in her voice. "I don't want to go."

Lucas turns sideways to look at her. "You mean, to school."

She nods. "Yup."

Lucas is not entirely surprised this would come up. He knows how much she enjoys their little family. "You don't have to go."

"Then I'm not going." Impulsive and stubborn. Lucas waits, and waits... she continues in an irritated tone "You're not going to say anything?" A little insecure too.

Lucas struggles to keep a straight face. He shrugs nonchalantly. "Wasn't planning to."

She scrunches her face. "Please... any words of wisdom?"

"Brooke..."

He pauses and she grunts impatiently. Emily, feeling the tension in the air, whimpers a little and Brooke changes her to the other side. After the little maneuver, Brooke focuses her attention on Lucas again. "Go on."

"I'll respect your choice, whatever it is."

"Fine. But... what do you think?"

Lucas sighs. Brutal honesty, which is how she likes it. "If you go, you will regret the time you don't spend with us. If you don't go, you will regret the opportunity you missed. If you don't go, you will be happier for a while, but eventually you will get bored. If you go, and you let your work get between you and your family you will be unhappy."

Brooke frowns and lets the silence stretch for a while, before replying. "I'll think about it."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Medical school is hard. Hard classes, hard texts, lots of hard work. And a bunch of stuffy teachers and nerdy, annoying kids asking stupid questions. Still, even after a week, Brooke can already feel the purpose, the meaning of it, driving her ahead. Every day, leaving home is a struggle, but, so far, she's managed to keep up with schoolwork and still make some time for Lucas and Emily. With the weekend, there will be a little more work to do, but they can take most of the weekend off. Maybe go to the beach house.

When she gets home, Lucas is sitting on his computer, typing, and Emily is napping. She knows better than to interrupt Broody, so she changes into a confy old jogging suit and dives into a thick book on cell biology.

Emily wakes up and both Lucas and Brooke stop what they were doing and meet at the nursery. Brooke picks Emily up from her crib while Lucas greets his wife with a soft kiss. "How was your day?" He asks.

Brooke smirks. "Long. Yours?"

Lucas smiles and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Aside from missing you, it was great."

Without another word, they go about their way. Brooke feeds, bathes and dresses her daughter, while Lucas prepares supper. When she finally gets to the kitchen, her stomach is growling. She sets the baby down on a colorful mat near the table and sits, enjoying the smells that come from the stove. Dinner is a thick minestrone, served with homemade bread. Perfect.

Brooke polishes off her first bowl of soup before breaking the pleasant silence. "Delicious."

"Thanks." Lucas sits back on his chair, satisfied, while Brooke serves herself of seconds. He's been itching to know. "So?"

"So what, babe?"

He growls a bit. She knows perfectly well what he is asking. "Do you need a spanking?"

The mischievous glint is unmistakable. "Shh. Not in front of her..."

He nearly laughs. "I wasn't thinking of doing it in front of her."

She deadpans. "Ah! Of course, then." Her sweetest innocent smile.

This time he can't help himself. He explodes in laughter. Sexy and clever. Some of the reasons he worships the ground she walks on. She continues eating daintily. "Please, Brooke."

She cleans her plate with a piece of bread, all innocence and slow deliberation. She loves teasing him in any way she can. "I'm not dropping out yet."

"Yet." He hopes she will continue.

"Family first. If I can swing it on my terms, fine. If I can't..."

Lucas nods. "Good."

She looks at Emily, lying on the mat and smiles. "Just taking it one day at a time."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

The week finishes with a meeting with her PhD advisor. She has known her choice of subject for a while. Toxic stress in children and teens. It's what happens to children in war zones, bad neighborhoods, or subject to prolonged mistreatment or illness.

She's done with second year. Finally. Next, it's going to be another tough year, clinical rotation for her MD and supervised practice for the PhD. Busy, busy. But, basically, no more classes, thank heavens.

For a while now, Brooke has been using a pixie cut, colored ash blonde. The short hair is a little frustrating, because she likes Lucas grabbing her hair, sometimes. But her close acquaintance with a certain Mr. Partridge, sixty-six-year-old, dead of a heart-attack, left her unwilling to put up with the constant smell of formaldehyde. The passing thought of some seriously rough play with her boy-toy brings a smile to her lips.

She's driving to the beach house alone. Lucas and Emily went ahead early. Lucas said he wanted to shop for food, but Brooke knows he mostly wanted to spend time with Emily at the beach. She really likes it, the little bitch. A brief twitch of jealousy. They are so close, those two...

It's already dark when Brooke parks her SUV on the driveway, next to Lucas' Mustang. She grabs her purse and backpack, noticing the lights from inside the house. She tenses as she feels someone approaching her for behind.

"Brooke?" The voice is familiar, and the tone uncertain.

She turns around, taking in the small woman in dark exercise pants and a hoodie. A small black pistol in her right hand, pointed at Brooke's midsection. Behind her, an indistinct hulking presence stands, with another gun. A chill runs down Brooke's spine. Brooke thinks of her husband and daughter inside the house, and a familiar steel resolve comes to her. She always underestimated her. Time to play. Brooke deflates, projecting fear, and makes her voice hesitant and weak."V-Victoria."

Victoria examines Brooke with a sneer of contempt. She takes in the short blonde hair, absence of make-up, the unpainted nails, the plain jeans skirt, cheap cotton blouse and the canvas sneakers. "What happened to you?"

Brooke keeps her eye on the gun, shrugs and mumbles. "Nothing..."

Victoria cuts her off, gesturing at the guy next to her. "Inside." He grabs Brooke's arm and pulls her along, towards the front door. Victoria follows. Her mind is frantically spinning, downgrading her expectations about how much this little operation might earn her. There is no way this... plebeian is worth as much as she expected.

Brooke opens the front door and they walk in. Victoria's minion is a very large man, late thirties, blunt features and the somewhat vacant expression of a drug addict. He holds her arm with bruising force, half-dragging her along. Lucas is in the kitchen and yells. "Hey! You're just in time..."

Victoria cuts him off, raising her voice. "Come out here, Mr. Scott."

Lucas walks out, to face two guns pointing at him. His smile disappears, and his eyes become a pair of ice chips. There's no hiding his anger, and how dangerous he is. Brooke and Lucas exchange a little look, where Lucas points at Emily's room with a slight motion of his head. Brooke breaks the tense silence. "This is my mother."

His reply drips poison. "Can't say it's a pleasure, mom."

Victoria scoffs at him, and addresses Brooke. "So, you married the bastard, after all." She then looks around and takes note of the toys and other baby equipment lying around. "And you have a child?"

Lucas replies. "She is upstairs, watching a video."

Victoria smiles. This was welcome news indeed. It should make things a lot easier. "How old?"

Again, Lucas replies. "Nearly two."

Victoria picks up a piece of paper from a pocket and slaps it into the coffee table. "This is a numbered account in the Caymans. You will deposit five million by the end of business day on Monday."

Brooke knows better than just agree. She manages to cry a little. "I-I'm sorry... We don't have that kind of money..."

"Liar!" Victoria screams. "Anyways, steal it, borrow it from family, I don't care."

Lucas interrupts in a cold tone. "All right."

Victoria looks at him, her mind whirring. She was planning to ask for ten, and then changed her mind. Brooke stands to one side, seemingly paralyzed with fear, while Lucas stands cautious but defiant. She points to Lucas. "Get the girl. Pack her a bag for a week."

Lucas seems to spit the next words. "You are not taking her anywhere." Brooke almost smiles. By focusing their attention on himself, it will make it easier to forget about her.

Victoria nods at her minion towards Lucas. He steps forward and swings the gun around, pistol whipping Lucas to the side of his head. Lucas sees the action coming and swings his head with the motion at the last second, to minimize damage. Even then , he grunts, nearly falls and a small cut to the side of his head drips blood. Victoria shakes the gun at him and speaks in a shrill tone. "Keep in mind who is in charge here." She points her gun at Brooke's head. "Now get to it."

Lucas drags himself upstairs. "Keep an eye on him. Be careful, he is dangerous." She orders.

The man smiles, a little dismissive. "Sure thing"

A few seconds after they disappear upstairs, there is noises from fighting. Crashing and grunting. A gun goes off. This nearly destroys Brooke, despite her trust in Lucas. Then a horrible scream. Male voice. Not Lucas. Victoria starts moving towards the stairs. "What the hell is going on..."

With Victoria momentarily distracted, Brooke makes her move. It takes a second to grab her pistol under her skirt. In one practiced motion, Brooke releases the safety and lines up the shot. Victoria catches her movement with the corner of her eyes and screams. Brooke's training says body shots, but the situation is too dangerous. She's not about to risk return fire. She aims at the back of Victoria's head and fires.

From about twelve feet, she's not going to miss. With Victoria's last second motion, the bullet catches her in the left ear. Safety ammunition. A soft-nose bullet that fragments on impact and doesn't go through its target to hit something unintended behind it. In this case, the bullet fragments into four pieces, any of which would result in a fatal wound. The lights are instantly out.

Brooke runs upstairs, to find Lucas standing over Victoria's accomplice, holding him at gunpoint. The guy is leaning against the corridor's wall, and Brooke feels a moment of savage satisfaction when she notes that the guy's left eye is a runny ruin. They are close to Emily's door. There's loud crying coming from behind it. Brooke's knees nearly give out in relief. Brooke struggles to keep herself together a little longer. "She's dead."

Lucas nods and grunts. "Rope."

Brooke races to their bedroom and comes back seconds later with a length of thick, bright red silk rope. He addresses his captive. "Lie down. Hands behind your back." Carefully, Lucas begins to tie the guy's hands behind his back. Brooke hears him grumble softly under Emily's crying and pain noises from their prisoner. "Really? The red rope?"

Despite the insane gibbering in the back of her head, Brooke nearly giggles. It is their favorite rope, after all. Lots of fun memories. She hears herself replying, without thought. "We'll buy another."