Chapter XIX

Hamptons, Long Island

I have to get out of here. Right now.

It's all happening way too fast and it's catching me off guard. I'm usually a planner and I have my shit together, but for the first time in ages I don't know what to do.

I know I have to disappear. It's only a matter of time before the cops find my place. Before they find the car.

My hands are shaking and I can't get air into my lungs.

Fuck.

If they find my place and the car, then they know it's me. I'll be a fugitive.

I have to go back and get rid of everything. But I don't know if I have enough time to go back.

And if they know it's me, they'll have contacted my family.

The thought makes me shake. Literally, shake. As though it's freezing not sweltering out.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It's too much. Too sudden. I can't think straight.

I can't decide what's worse. Getting caught by the police or having Papa come for me first. It happened once before and it was hell. I was shipped off to some gated community in Texas and locked inside a house for six months.

For the first time in years, I don't' know what to do.

SoHo, NYC

Beckett propped herself up on her elbow and the comforter cover slipped down from her shoulder, sending a breeze from the air conditioner over her skin. "What do you mean you kept something from me?"

His usually not-so-serious face looked serious enough that it made her feel uneasy.

"You remember at the hospital, when I told you that you make me want to write?"

She nodded.

"I started to write again a few days after you came to stay with me at the Hamptons."

She didn't understand why that would make him look so serious. "Is that not a good thing?"

He smiled up at her and that calmed her unease. "Oh yes, you have no idea. I called my publisher a couple of days ago and told her I might have a new book before the end of the year. You should have heard her scream. It was almost as loud as you when…"

"Castle, I get it. She screamed." She smirked. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Not since Derrick Storm."

"Don't remind me."

"But you haven't been keeping that from me. You told me you've been writing again. I've seen you."

"I haven't told you that my new book is gonna be based on a beautiful, savvy NYPD homicide detective."

"What do you mean?" Beckett pushed herself all the way up now, so that she was sitting. Needing to hover over him.

"My next book," he explained, his eyes following her, trying to gauge her reaction. "You inspired it."

"What?" Her jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?"

"How am I supposed to tell you this when you're sitting there naked? It's so distracting, it should be illegal."

Beckett rolled her eyes and grabbed the comforter to cover her breasts. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"You're basing a character, a main character in a book, on me?"

"Yes." There was such an earnest apprehension on his face that it was hard to let him know how shocked she was. "I needed you to know…" He hesitated. "I was hoping you'd be okay with it. I don't know if I want to continue if you're not."

A lot of emotions ran through her at the revelation. Shock. Amazement. Disbelief. "I don't know what to say…"

"You've trusted me before," he took one of her hands into his and kissed her palm. "Can you trust me again, to do her, to do you, justice?"

She sank back down into bed, leaning her head on his chest. "I love your books, you know that. But I'm not convinced that my detective life is thrilling enough to be a book. I spend an awful lot of time doing paperwork, you know."

He smiled. Relieved. It was as though he expected her to be as annoyed as she was when she'd caught him digging into her past. "Leave that part to me."

"The embellishment part?"

"You don't need embellishing, Kate Beckett." His crafty hands were in her hair now, brushing it out of her face so his lips could dust a kiss on her forehead when he turned his head in her direction. "You sure you're okay with it?"

She purred, enjoying the way his fingers threaded through her hair, taming the slight headache she had. "Can I read it?"

"Not yet. It's not finished," he told her. "Rough drafts are always terrible. I want you to read it when it's edited and finished. Hot off the press. I promise you'll get the first copy."

"Signed?"

"You bet." She couldn't see his face but she sensed that he was grinning. Could hear it in his voice. "I'll start thinking now about what I'll write."

"No pressure."

"There's one more thing…"

Her eyes widened and she turned her head so she could meet his eyes. "There's more?"

"Going to the precinct with you the last couple of days made me realize that I need to do what I've done with all my books. I need to do research. In person."

"In person?"

"I need to shadow you. Just for a few weeks."

Kate pushed herself back up again. "You're kidding, right?"

"It's why my stories feel authentic," he argued. "Because of the kind of research I do. I won't give this book any less."

"Gates will never go for it! She is far too by-the-book to allow a civilian to hang around her precinct."

"What if I convinced her?"

The way he was staring at her breasts reminded her to pull up the comforter again, so that they could actually have this conversation. "Even if you did, and you won't," Beckett shot back. "We'd have to keep this, us, under wraps."

"It's what we're already doing, isn't it? We could keep it under wraps a few more weeks."

"You saying you can work alongside me and keep your hands off me? You barely managed a half-hour walk home."

"You sayin' I have no willpower?"

Amusement lit up her face when she looked up at him. "I'm sayin' what we should really do is wait 'til we catch Salvador Ojeda, before we even think about you joining the NYPD."

He was stroking her back as he said it, his fingers ghosting her spine until they trailed the outline of the slowly fading bruise on her shoulder blade.

She let herself close her eyes and drift off underneath his touch, knowing it wouldn't happen, even though the possibility of it thrilled her a little. But Gates would never go for it, Beckett was certain of that.

Truth was, she selfishly didn't want to keep this a secret.

Being around him made her so happy that it showed on her face, and for the first time in ages she didn't want to hide it, or bury herself in her work.

She wanted to go out for a meal with him and not worry about who would see them. Wanted to be able to reach across the table and touch his hand whenever she got the urge. Wanted to kiss the chocolate-vanilla swirl ice-cream off his lips in the middle of Manhattan.

A smile lifted her lips at the thought, before she drifted back to sleep against her will.

Later

The sun was setting and Kate was in the kitchen, trying her hand at making a meal from the cornucopia of exotic food items stacked in Castle's kitchen cabinet.

Canned foie gras. Tartufo Bianco d'Alba. Vacuum-packed rösti imported from Switzerland. Pureed chestnuts. Black Kaluga caviar. All-natural wild rice from Minnesota. Cured bison.

"You are so extra, Rick Castle," she mumbled, staring at other packages that had labels in languages that she couldn't read at all.

After their bedroom workout earlier in the day, she'd fallen back asleep. Because it still didn't take much to wipe her out. And because, of course, Castle indulged her.

She'd try a light workout later in the day. She'd worked so hard to get back into shape in the last few weeks that she wasn't going to let one unwelcome encounter with the hood of Salvador Ojeda's car set her back to square one again.

After that, they'd both taken a shower and Castle went to his office to write, while she'd busied herself on her lap top, learning everything there was to know about the Ojeda family. Stunned to discover how far across the country their reach extended.

And now she was hungry, and she was the one who was indulging him, not wanting to interrupt the flow of his creative juices. So she decided to cook.

Kate spotted a couple of salmon filets in the fridge and remembered the potatoes she'd seen in a basket by the stove. It cheered her up. Finally, some food items she recognized and knew how to turn into an edible meal.

It was when she was searching for a potato peeler that she heard her phone buzzing on the marble island countertop behind her.

Esposito's name came up on the call display.

"Hey…what's up?"

"Yo…I did what you suggested. Talked to Castle's staff. Decided to go to his place so I could do it myself, face to face."

"Good call."

"Took a while to get 'em to calm down enough to start talking, and one of the gardeners, he says our boy Sal never really mingled with any of them except Rico. So I tracked him down."

"Rico?"

"Rico never worked at Castle's home, but he did work at one of those mega-mansions two houses down. I talked to him and he said he rode home with Sal once."

"Yes!"

A surge of hope and adrenaline shot through her. If Espo was already out there and they acted before the end of the day, they actually stood a chance. "And?" she asked. "Did you find his place?"

"On the way now," Esposito told her. "Rico says that Sal had him drop him off at an intersection, so we don't exactly have an address."

"Crap."

"But…Rico also told us which way he went, and according to Google Maps there's less than a dozen homes in that direction. This isn't exactly New York City, Beckett."

"Okay, okay."

"We're getting close. I'll let you know what we find."

"'Kay." Beckett ended the call wishing that she was there with him. Because watching from the sidelines was impossibly hard.

"Hey…" Castle stepped into the kitchen, holding what was probably an empty coffee mug in his hand. He set it in the sink and then came over to drape his arms around her and plant a kiss on the side of her neck. "Heard you talking."

"Esposito went out to the Hamptons. Talked to your staff. He's got a lead."

"Oh…"

"I know." She allowed herself a sliver of hope and let him see it. "He thinks he's found Salvador's residence."

"That's great news."

"Don't jinx it."

"Can't help it, I'm an optimist."

"I know," Beckett agreed. "But I'm a realist."

"Come on," he tugged her away from the phone that she hadn't realized she was staring at. As if she could will it to ring with a progress report. "Lemme help you make dinner. Maybe by the time we're on dessert we'll get a call from your partner."

I didn't know what else to do, so I did something I haven't done in years.

I called for help.

I hate the family. Even Mama, who's probably the reason that Papa hasn't killed me yet. The way he kills all the other obstacles in his life.

And even my sister Sara.

Sara's like me, she's different. She got away from the family and wants nothing to do with any of us. She changed her name and pretends we don't exist. I call her sometimes and she's the only one who'll actually talk to me. But I can tell that she doesn't enjoy it. I'm not stupid.

So it's not like I had a lot of people to call. I don't have friends, 'cause I don't trust people. They'll all stab you in the back for a dollar. Cops are the worst. There's not a single one who can't be bribed. That's why it hurts so much to see my angel with that detective. If he puts a ring on her finger, she'll take him for all he's worth.

He doesn't know, but everything I've done is for him.

I shake these thoughts from my head when I see Yuri's coming down the alley. Even though Rick is in my thoughts all the time, right now I have to focus on me.

I can't help him if I'm dead or in prison.

I asked Yuri to meet me in this alley because I know the cops could show up at my place any time. They might even be on their way now.

Everything worth taking from my shit place is inside a big backpack that's settled on my shoulders. Including my laptop.

I couldn't care less about the place itself. I have money in three different bank accounts and I don't care where I live as long as it's close to him.

Yuri's car is near enough that I can make out his face now.

His family has mob ties in Russia, or Belarus, or something like that. I don't care.

I just know that they work for mine sometimes. So we saw each other when we were growing up 'cause we're around the same age. Sometimes we'd hang out together. He's not my friend, but he used to have this huge crush on my older sister, Alejandra. So we had this deal because he was about twice as big as me. He'd stop the other kids from beating me up, and me, I found out a way to put a hidden camera in my sister's room – I've always been good with computers and electronics – and I'd give him some film once a week, so he could see her naked. Watch her touching herself on the bed.

I try to get into the car as soon as its close enough but the door's closed.

Fucking moron. Yuri never was very bright.

The window rolls down.

"Get in the back," he instructs me. "Duck down. Don't want no cops seein' you."

I do as he tells me, even though I think it's stupid. I'm wearing glasses and a baseball cap.

But whatever.

"You really wanna go all the way to Philly?"

"Yeah," I pass him a piece of paper. "Plug this address into the GPS." I'd rather he didn't put it anywhere traceable, but he'll never find it otherwise. He's too dumb.

The address is for a motel not far from the airport. I just need a place to lay low for a while. 'Til I decide my next move. And the family doesn't have rats all over Philly like they do here.

I wanna kick myself for letting Mama give me one of her cars. It was stupid. But when she gave it to me, it was easy. Mama always liked to make things easy for me.

And sometimes, my brain doesn't think straight. It doesn't work right. That's what one of my old doctors said too. I get all these little details perfectly right and then I screw up the big things.

We drive for a while and I don't say anything to Yuri and he says nothing to me. I'm glad. I don't wanna talk to him. I have nothing to say.

Then the car slows down and it feels like he's gone off the main road. I can tell he's exiting somewhere.

"Where we going?" I ask.

"Gotta take a piss."

It makes me angry. Like we have time to waste. When he gets out of the car, I fist my hands instead of cursing at him, like I want to. But I'm afraid then he'll just kick me out and leave me here.

I stay low and don't look outside. I have no idea where we are.

Then suddenly the door next to my head gets yanked open.

There's a guy outside that's huge. Way bigger than Yuri and he yanks me out of the car by my shoulders before I even get a chance to look at his face.

Not that I need to see his face.

It doesn't matter. I try to fight but I know it's useless. He's too strong.

He jabs a needle into my arm and then my whole body feels funny.

Yuri's sold me out to the family. Of course he has. Everyone's scared of Papa.

Who can even blame them? I'm scared of him too.

He's finally gonna get rid of me.

I'm a dead man.