A/N: Hello again to everyone and thanks once more for the feedback and encouragement.
Reunion
Chapter 13
Catherine's heart exploded in her chest, beating so hard she was afraid everyone in the room could hear it. For a moment she felt dizzy and steadied herself on the side of the couch. Evan was here. Right here. In front of her and Vincent and JT. What the hell was Evan doing here?
She caught the relief in Evan's face as she struggled to regain her senses. Her gaze shifted to Vincent who looked absolutely befuddled, turning to her with a questioning expression. "What …, who …?" he sputtered, but was unable to speak. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his hand from Evan's chest, stepping back.
Evan paused, looking at Vincent, perhaps to make sure if he stepped into the house he wasn't going to get punched out. Vincent seemed to have forgotten Evan was standing in the doorway so Evan stepped inside and marched up to Catherine, enclosing her in an embrace.
"Thank god you're okay," he said again. "We were so worried about you. People were panicking."
Catherine shook off her daze and pushed Evan back so she could see his face. He kept his hands on her shoulders, refusing to let her go. "Panicked? Who was panicked?" she asked.
"Everyone," Evan said, his tone exasperated. "Gabe, Tess, the hospital staff … everyone. You just – disappeared. When you didn't answer your phone last night or this morning everyone started to freak-out. It's not like you to just take off without telling someone."
Catherine cringed. Evan was right. Now that she thought about it she had just disappeared. She hadn't contacted anyone since she'd left the hospital the evening before. She hadn't even thought about it, so swept up she'd been in the fantasy of Vincent carrying her away like a knight on his Learjet steed. Guilt tugged at her chest. She hadn't even considered how her actions might impact her friends. If she'd been unsure before, this was another confirmation that she was acting like an immature adolescent.
She caught Evan's eyes. "But what are you doing here?" she asked.
"Yeah," JT's voice came from the stair landing where he had descended from the balcony. "What are you doing here and how did you find this place?"
Catherine gave JT a glare but he didn't acquiesce, stepping toward them with grim intention in his face. The bodyguard part of him, she thought.
Evan ignored JT and said to Catherine, "They called me – Tess and Gabe – and told me you were missing. They told me about Keller and I accessed my connections to find you."
Catherine glanced at Vincent still standing by the front door looking shell-shocked. He hadn't even had the presence of mind to close the door yet.
It was JT who spoke again. "Why did they call you? And you still haven't explained how you found this place. How did you track Vincent down? This place is about as far "off the radar" as we could make it."
Catherine responded to JT's query. "Evan's a cop. A Chicago detective. He's got resources."
"We were afraid Keller had taken you against your will," Evan said. "I was up all night. Called in a lot of favors to find this place. The FBI is on the way."
Catherine looked back to Evan and frowned. "The FBI? Why did you call the FBI?"
It was Vincent who spoke next and everyone turned to him in surprise. He had closed the door but hadn't moved. "Interstate transportation of a kidnap victim."
Shocked slammed through Catherine. "What?" She snapped her head back to Evan. "What's he talking about?"
Evan grimaced. "We thought you'd been kidnapped. You just up and disappeared without a trace. You didn't go to your condo. You didn't show up for work this morning. You didn't call. So, I contacted the FBI. I pulled some strings and convinced them to start looking for you immediately rather than waiting 48 hours. We're all looking for you and there's an arrest warrant out for Keller.
JT let out a loud moan. "Great. Just freaking great."
"You've got to call them," Catherine said frantically. "You've got to explain."
"Explain what, exactly?" asked Evan.
"Explain that I'm fine. That I wasn't kidnapped."
"Up until you just spoke those words, I didn't know any different. I still don't know what happened and I'm not doing anything until I get an explanation," Evan said. He turned to Vincent. "Mr. Keller?" he said with an expectant tone.
"Hey, bud," JT interjected, stepping toward Evan, "I don't care if you're the goddamned Chicago Chief of Police. I'm about ready to toss your ass out of here and let the lawyers do the talking."
Vincent blew out a loud breath and sighed. "It's alright, JT," he said, holding up a hand for JT to stop. He stepped away from the door, veering off toward a large leather chair by the fireplace and slumped into it. Catherine saw the dejected look on his face and a pang of worry rubbed uncomfortably against the back of her mind.
She stepped away from Evan, his hands falling from her shoulders. "Evan, I'm okay. Nothing's happened. I'm here of my own free will."
"I'd hardly say nothing's happened," Evan shot back. "Something's happened, I just don't know what." He looked over at Vincent who was staring into the fire. "Obviously Vincent Keller has risen from the dead. You want to tell me what that's about?"
Catherine sat on the arm of the couch, took in a deep breath and recounted for Evan all that had happened over the past two days, especially since the prior afternoon, including the fact that Vincent had thought she was dead as well. Catherine noticed that JT stood back listening intently, while Vincent - to her dismay - seemed uninterested, staring catatonically at the fire.
Evan grunted his displeasure as Catherine's story unfolded, but eventually he phoned is contact at the FBI and called off the manhunt.
"Vincent," Catherine said, "did you hear that? Evan called off the FBI. He understands what's going on."
Vincent didn't move, didn't react to her, never taking his eyes off the fire.
"Vincent? Vincent," she said, worry starting to morph into fear.
"JT…?" Catherine said, giving JT a questioning look, hoping for some help to understand what was happening with Vincent.
JT rolled his eyes. "There's one little bit of information that hasn't been explained," he said.
Catherine looked at him, puzzled.
"The small, minor, insignificant issue of Mr. Marks being … your husband," JT explained.
Catherine inhaled sharply. She'd completely forgotten about the bombshell Evan had dropped when he'd meet Vincent at the door. Crap. She turned toward Vincent again. "It's not what it looks like," she said, the words tumbling over themselves.
That drew a snort from Vincent as he continued to stare into the fire. "Sounds familiar," he said, sardonically.
Panic pulsed through her. It did sound familiar. It was exactly what Vincent had yelled as she'd run out of the barn after witnessing, what she'd assumed was, a make-out session between Vincent and the doctor. She'd been wrong. But jealously had roared up inside her so strongly that her chest still hurt. She shook her head, this whole thing between them was getting so out of control it was insane.
Catherine walked around the couch to stand a few feet in front of Vincent and to the side, not blocking his view of the fire. She wanted to touch him but was afraid to, not sure if Vincent would reject her overture. The coward in her won and she kept a respectable distance. He didn't look up.
"Please, let me explain," Catherine said.
Vincent heaved a sigh, his eyes continued to bore holes into the fire. "It's alright, Catherine. You don't need to explain anything. You don't own me anything."
Helplessness surged through her. She looked up at Evan, anger tightening her shoulders. "Evan, you're a bastard. Why did you do that?"
"Do what?" Evan said, straight faced.
Catherine let out a growl, her body thrumming with frustration. "You know exactly what - dropping the marriage bomb. We talked about that. You promised you wouldn't do that with my friends. Why now?"
Evan shifted his weight and gave Catherine a hard look. "Cat, I didn't know what the hell was going on. I didn't know if your were safe or not. I played the wife card to make sure I got his cooperation."
"So,"JT chimed in, "you're not really married."
Catherine let out a groan.
Evan smiled at JT. "Not exactly," he said. "We are married - technically."
A flush of embarrassed heat coursed up Catherine's neck, into her face, and she knew she must be beet-red. "Damn you, Evan Marks," she spat out. "Don't do this to me."
Evan must have heard the desperation in her voice because he acquiesced. "Okay, okay," he said. He turned to JT. "Catherine and I dated for a while about a year ago. On a whim we took a weekend trip to Las Vegas on one of those fifty dollar, round-trip plane tickets with free lodging. We had a lot of fun. And had a lot to drink. We were joking around and walked by one of those get married now wedding chapels. In our drunken stupor we dared each other to get married. Well, neither one of us is the kind of person to back down from a dare. And the rest, as they say, is history."
"You actually got married?" JT asked.
"Yeah," Evan said.
After a moment of silence Catherine said to Evan, "Finish the story or I'll beat your ass."
Evan sighed and continued. "When we got back to Chicago and sobered up, reality hit us. We were actually, legally married. When we researched getting an annulment it was a little more complicated than we'd hoped, requiring a trip back to Nevada. It's been on our todo list for a while." Evan looked away as if focusing on something in the distance and said wistfully, "I sort of hoped she'd change her mind, eventually."
Catherine stepped in front of Vincent, squatting down so her face was level with his and he had to look at her. She took his hands in hers. "Vincent, I know this is really bizarre, but it's true. It was stupid and I should have taken care of this a long time ago."
"You don't need to apologize," Vincent said, his voice so quiet she could barely hear him. "You have a life and the right to live it. Then I come barging into your life out of the blue, completely oblivious to your circumstances and needs. He shook his head and slid his hands from Catherine's. "It's me who should apologize."
Catherine felt the loss of his hands in hers and the panic that had been stewing in the background began to surge forward again.
Vincent stood and stepped over to the fireplace, leaning against the river rocks, staring down into the fire. "You're right, you know," he said.
"About what," Catherine asked, tentatively.
"That I'm pushing to hard, moving too fast," Vincent said.
"It's not just you," Catherine said, "I'm just as responsible as you."
"No, Catherine, you're not. This is my fault. I'm the one who contacted you. I'm the one who pushed you to meet me just two days after you found out I was alive. I'm the one who forced you to come here."
"You didn't force me to do anything," Catherine blurted out.
Vincent ignored her comment as he continued. "You deserve more respect than I've given you. I've been acting like a love-struck teenager, a self-centered jerk. It's my fault this has spun out of control. If it hadn't been for me Detective Marks wouldn't have had to call the FBI. God, I've made a mess of things," he said as he scrubbed his hand through his hair.
"With all due respect," Evan said, "I couldn't agree more. Catherine, you need to come back to Chicago with me."
"Evan," Catherine growled, "I do not consider us as married and you know it."
Evan gave her a scoff. "Of course I know it, even if I wished otherwise. I'm not talking about us. I talking about your responsibilities to family and friends and work."
Catherine opened her mouth to protest but Vincent cut her off.
"He's right," Vincent said, still staring at the fire. "And you're right, too. This is moving too fast. You need to go home, Catherine. You deserve to work through all of this without any pressure from me."
Nausea roiled in her stomach and Catherine felt her heart sink, both because Vincent was right and because he was literally sending her away. "You don't want me here?" she blurted out before she could censor her feelings.
Vincent snapped his eyes to hers, his expression pained. "This is bigger than me and what I want," he said. "I can't ruin your life, Catherine. I won't."
Vincent turned toward Evan. "Please take Catherine home, Detective Marks."
Turning to JT, Vincent said, "JT, call Joe and have him get the jet ready. Get Catherine's things from her room and then drive her and Detective Marks to the airport and fly them home."
Catherine slumped into a large leather chair, deflated and defeated. And the most frustrating part of everything was that, deep down, she knew Vincent was right. Her staying here under these circumstances was a recipe for disaster. She looked at the floor, tears of anger and frustration about to spill over.
"That won't be necessary," Evan said to Vincent. We can fly on a commercial carrier."
Vincent waived Evan off. To JT he said, "Make sure they're comfortable and get back safely."
Vincent turned to Catherine. She could see him trembling, his eyes tight. "I'm so sorry for making a mess of things. JT will take care of you. You'll … have to excuse me," he choked out as he gave Catherine one last sorrowful look and then turned and walked swiftly away, through the kitchen and out of sight into the mud room. A moment later she heard the back door slam closed.
Catherine stared after Vincent, stunned into silence. There really was nothing she could say, anyway. For whatever had just happened, she was as much to blame as Vincent, probably even more. And for the life of her she had no clue what to do about it. For the past 18 hours she'd lived a miracle, finding Vincent alive and being spirited away to her dream home, only to have everything ripped out from underneath her, just like Afghanistan. Despair weighed heavily on her heart and she couldn't hold the tears back any longer.
She wasn't sure how much time and passed, probably only a few minutes, when JT said," Catherine, I've got your personal belongings from your room. We're ready to leave."
She looked up at JT, barely registering what he'd said, her mind still swimming with flashes of the past day, awash with sorrow. Evan stepped in front of her, reached down and took her hands, pulling her up from the chair. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and started leading her toward the door. Catherine didn't protest. She didn't have any fight left in her, letting Evan lead her like a child. They walked outside and climbed into the black SUV.
"We'll take care of you rental car, Detective Marks," JT said.
"Thank you," Evan said.
To Catherine, their conversation was almost an unrecognizable buzz in the background of her mind.
As the SUV drove down the long gravel driveway Catherine turned and looked back at the beautiful log home, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Vincent on the porch or looking out a window. But he wasn't there. Her heart broke as her dream was stolen from her once again.