Chapter XII: Arrival Part 2
Friday, July 19th, 06.40 p.m.
Sitting in front of Jarod's computer, Erin watched in trepidation at the sender name displayed on the e-mail message: it came from Lloyd Darrell personally. Jarod hadn't read it, wanting her to do it, and anyway he already knew what its contents were.
"Don't you want to open it?" he exhorted her, standing behind her, even if he understood her hesitation.
Erin drew in a deep breath, than clicked on the message.
Dear Jarod, the publisher wrote, I must tell you at once that you discovered a great talent. I read lots of manuscripts, as you know very well, but I rarely felt so engrossed. I was literally carried into the fantastic world your friend has created – is it a woman? From the way the novel is written, I'd say so. It's absolutely brilliant. Tell her that I want to publish it as soon as possible. Normally, to an author at his first publication I offer a wage of $ 5,000 and royalties of ten percent, but in this case, it's my intention to double everything. Let me know. Lloyd.
Erin stared incredulous at the sentences, but Jarod burst into laughter.
"Lloyd's gone crazy over your novel, Erin!" he cried, stooping to hug her, "It's absolutely not his habit to offer such high wages to an unknown author. You knocked him out, baby!"
Happy and thrilled, Erin laughed and wept at the same time.
"Oh my God, Jarod…" she whispered, wiping her tears away, "It's a dream coming true, a dream I didn't believe would ever be possible…"
"Never stop believing in dreams", Jarod stated in a low voice, kissing her temple and rocking her, "Without them, your soul would be dead."
They had tried to do this to him, at the Centre, but, luckily, they didn't succeed; but it seemed they had been successful with Miss Parker, his sweet childhood friend.
He turned away his thoughts from her and focused them again on Erin.
"Well, what d'you think?" he smiled at her, "Shall I tell Lloyd to prepare an agreement?"
"I know nothing about publisher contracts", Erin pointed out, hesitantly, "I know he's a friend of yours, but how can I be sure as not having bad surprises in the future?"
"You don't need to worry about anything", he reassured her, "I'll take care of it."
He had been attorney, and besides, he knew the publisher's world: he would make her sign only a contract with the maximum advantage for her.
Erin recalled something:
"I want to keep the movie rights… At this point, I'm willing to believe that someone will make a film out of it! And in this case, I want to write the script. With a professional assistant, of course."
Jarod's smile broadened:
"And maybe you have already thought about the actors, now haven't you?"
She blushed: yes, she had given thought to it, but she had never taken it seriously, positive it was just her wildest dream.
"Angelina Jolie and David J. Elliott would fit really well", she declared, grinning. Jarod arched an eyebrow, than both burst into laughter again.
Saturday, July 20th, 08.20 p.m.
"I'm ready!" Erin announced, entering the drawing room where Jarod was waiting for her, wearing a chocolate silk shirt and white linen pants. Erin thought he was very handsome, and as usual, she felt her blood boiling just looking at him.
Tonight they were holding the gym's party, where all instructors and patrons had been invited; about eighty people were coming. They had rented a little disco with a deejay, the same professional of the De Rossi party on July 4th.
Jarod turned to welcome her, and his gaze lighted up with admiration: Erin sported an asymmetric top with one string, in sparkling golden Lurex, and a tight miniskirt of stretch jeans, in which golden threads shone. She had put on closed sandals, fastened at her ankles, with four-inch stiletto heels.
Erin turned slowly around, and Jarod saw that she had decorated her bun with a golden metallic pin.
"Well, do I look good enough?" she asked, facing him again.
"Should I say no, would you decide not going out and spend a fiery night with me?" Jarod retorted with a wry face. She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him up and down.
"I could do it indeed", she sighed then, "but unfortunately I'm the gym owner and cannot quit on patrons and employees, don't you agree?"
Jarod echoed her sigh:
"You're right: noblesse oblige, they say."
Half an hour later, they arrived at the Quake, where those who were already there cordially welcomed them. The deejay was playing some nice disco music, and several people moved already on the dance floor. Jarod and Erin joined them at once.
They danced nonstop for over one hour and a half; a few slows alternated with the rhythmic pieces, when the couples held one another and danced languidly in the space of a tile, cheek to cheek, in a soft play of coloured lights and shadows.
"Let's get a drink", Jarod suggested. Erin nodded and, hand in hand, they headed to the bar and sat at a table; they had fruit cocktails, and sipped them slowly.
At a certain point of the party, they had planned a sing show, where the guests would perform; therefore, the waiters distributed leaflets in order to allow them choosing a piece. Jean was the first who gathered enough courage to try it out; with her contralto voice, quite well attuned, she sang a beautiful melodic piece of Mariah Carey called Hero, earning an enthusiastic applause from the audience. Then was Pat and Nick Shoults' turn, who intoned together Welcome to Miami, a hot rap by Will Smith. Other followed, among patrons and instructors of the gym, all more or less good.
Erin watched the impromptu artists who followed each other on stage, waiting for her own entry; she had booked a song, but she hadn't disclosed to Jarod which one, returning the secrecy he had showed the night he had been able to make her confess his love for him.
Finally, it was her turn, and Erin walked on stage, anxious to the point her hands were ice-cold, wondering if she could keep a steady voice until the end, because she was sure she would be very nervous during the performance. She had picked a song by Shania Twain called You've got a way, because it looked as if it had been written specifically for her, and exactly for this moment.
The music began to play and Erin had no time left for any changes of mind.
You've got a way with me
Somehow you got me to believe
In everything that I could be
I've gotta say – you really got a way
Jarod guessed easily that Erin was talking about the two of them, and his gaze became very attentive.
The others, too, guessed it, particularly Jean, who adored this song and knew everything, included the recent developments about her friend's book, which she had been one of the few who had been allowed to read it.
Erin went on with the second stanza with a firmer voice:
You've got a way it seems
You gave me faith to find my dreams
You'll never know just what that means
Can't you see… you got a way with me
Moved tears stung Jarod's eyes: so it was this what he had been able to do for Erin… he had given her back the capability to believe in her dreams, as he had been able to give her back her faith in love… His humbleness had prevented him to realise it clearly, so far, but Erin's attitude, the way she was singing, the way she was looking at him, couldn't be mistaken.
His plain emotion touched Erin, who began to feel a pressure in her throat where a lump was sticking; she gulped it down, swallowing hard, and continued:
It's in the way you want me
It's in the way you hold me
The way you show me
Just what love's made of
It's in the way we make love
Tears filled Jarod's eyes; he didn't care hiding them, not in front of the woman he loved, and about the others he couldn't care less: let them see his emotion, let them understand the deepness of his feelings for Erin…
Erin saw that he was on the edge of tears and her voice almost betrayed her; she gathered her strong will and went on steadily:
You've got a way with words You get me smiling even when it hurts
There's no way to measure
What your love is worth
I can't believe the way you get through to me
Jarod covered his mouth with one hand to restrain a sob, moved beyond any possible description. Erin was almost at the limit, and her voice trembled slightly as she began the crescendo:
Oh how I adore you
Like no one before you
I love you just the way you are
She sang the last stanza with the confidence she was now feeling in her heart, a confidence that showed through her voice, making it plain to the whole audience:
It's in the way you want me
It's in the way you hold me
The way you show me
Just what love's made of
It's in the way we make love
And the last verse was an absolute statement that couldn't be contested:
It's just the way you are
Unable to utter a single word, not caring about the presence of so many other people, most of them unknown to him, Jarod stood up and went to Erin with an expression that proclaimed to the whole world the nature of his feelings for her. As soon as he approached her on the stage, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly in front of everyone.
The audience burst into a thundering ovation as the couple continued to kiss desperately, and went on until they left and, thanking, stepped off the stage to return to their table. Jean was weeping, full of joy for her friend as if she was a dear sister who, after so much suffering, had finally found happiness again.
Monday, July 22nd, 01.30 p.m.
On that day, as it happened often, Jarod had picked up Erin at the gym to go out to lunch together; while coming back, Erin asked him to make a short detour:
"I'd call at the bank, can you take me there?"
"Of course."
The place was almost empty, at this time of the day, so there were only a small number of open counters and they had to queue up with a couple of clients. While they were calmly waiting for their turn, three scoundrels masked with balaclavas suddenly burst into the bank, carrying rifles; everyone – clients, employees and the armed guard – froze as if paralyzed by surprise and terror. But a cashier had the presence of mind to push with his feet the silent alarm button, which alerted directly the police station.
Aiming his rifle on the guard, one of the three robbers ordered:
"Take your gun with two fingers and toss it on the floor, now!"
The guard, who was a family man, didn't even think to make a stand. This would have been his duty, of course, but the tangible possibility to leave orphaned his two children didn't allow him to fight them. He did as the crook had told him, and this way he probably saved his own life.
"Everybody, in that corner!" the second bandit barked, pointing the rifle barrel at the clients, including Jarod and Erin.
This wasn't the first time Jarod had found himself in the middle of a robbery: a few years before, he had been trapped in a similar situation with his huntress, Miss Parker, and it wasn't a nice memory.
He watched the bandits with gloomy eyes.
One of then threw a jute sack to each cashier.
"C'mon, fill them up!" he ordered them, snarling, "Only small bills, and none from the bottom!"
Usually, the last banknotes of every bunch were marked, foreseeing the possibility of a robbery. It was plain that the crooks knew what they were doing, Jarod decided.
Erin, after her initial terror, felt now strangely calm. The long years spent close to security agents of CIA and FBI, because of her father's job, had taught her that panic is very dangerous in these situations, and in some way, they had her prepared to face something like this. She, too, looked at the robbers with a dark expression.
In the distance, they heard the police sirens, swiftly approaching; with a quick move, one of the robbers grasped brutally a pregnant woman, who was standing next to Erin, and aimed his rifle against her hip.
Jarod jerked and couldn't stop himself:
"Leave that poor woman alone", he intervened, taking a step toward the robber, "She' so big, she'd only hinder you. Take me instead of her."
The crook directed his rifle on Jarod.
He couldn't have done a greater mistake.
Seeing his man under threat was too much for Erin: something snapped inside of her, like a switch, and adrenaline rushed to her head. She saw literally red; suddenly, the something that had snapped inside of her changed her in a living weapon, with no consciousness or awareness of danger, whose only reason of existence was to defend the beloved person, at any cost.
The action that followed lasted no more than a handful of seconds, but when later they thought over it, it seemed like an eternity to both of them.
With a fierce roar, Erin jumped forward, grabbed the rifle by the barrel and landed a brutal sidekick to the robber's stomach; he doubled over and lost his grasp on the weapon, so she could tear it off his hands. Using it like a club, Erin hit the crook full in his face, breaking his jaw and putting him down, knocked out. The woman he had taken as a hostage shrieked in terror.
Jarod reacted with an almost super-human readiness, out of pure instinct: taking advantage of the confusion, he jumped on the second robber, threw him to the ground with a sweep from behind and seized his rifle. In the meantime, Erin turned around her weapon and fired at the third bandit, hitting him on one shoulder; the impact of the big calibre bullet hurled the man backwards and he crashed to the ground like a broken puppet, unconscious. The last robber tried to react, but Jarod punched him hard on one temple, sending him directly to dreamland.
Jarod and Erin looked at each other, pale and panting, with blazing eyes, adrenaline sky-high.
Then, from outside came a voice, distorted by the loudspeaker:
"This is the police! Give up, you're surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"
The director, a distinguished man in his early sixties who knew Erin for many years, approached them; he looked at the robbers prone on the floor, and then at the young woman:
"Good job, lass!" he declared, then he addressed Jarod, "My compliments to you, too, sir."
"Thanks, Mr. Jordan", Erin answered, lowering the rifle she was still holding, "But from now on I'd rather use home banking!"
In spite of all, Jarod burst into laughter: she was really a formidable woman, if she was joking this way after such a dangerous deed!
The director, too, grinned, but a bit tentatively, having not realised this was only a way like any other to relieve the stress. Then he approached the glass door, his hands clearly visible, and opened it, speaking aloud to the police officers:
"I'm Francis Jordan, the director! It's all right, you can come in safely!"
Meanwhile, Erin had approached the woman whom the robbers had tried to take as a hostage.
"Are you fine, ma'am?" she asked kindly. The woman nodded, her face very pale:
"Scared, but alive", she answered in a thin voice, "Thank you, miss. You and your friend have saved my child."
"And all of us in here", a young man added from not far away. The others nodded in agreement, and somebody began clapping his hands; in a few moments, all the bystanders united in a thundering applause.
When the police officers entered, a few seconds later, they found a very surprising scene: a dozen people clapping their hands; a man and a woman, rifles in their hands, both wearing a very embarrassed expression; three scoundrels with balaclava-covered faces sprawled on the floor, beaten and bleeding. Just in case, the officers aimed their weapons both to the armed couple and to those who were, probably, the robbers.
Jarod and Erin dropped immediately the rifles they were still holding.
"Sergeant Connor, I'm Erin De Rossi", she called one of the police officers. The sergeant, a tall and well-built man around forty, who had been a patron in Erin's gym, lowered his gun.
"Miss De Rossi!" he cried, smiling, "You and this man have routed the robbers? How did you do it?"
"Don't ask me!" she answered, shaking her head, "I don't know."
"We've been lucky", Jarod stated.
"Nonsense!" one of the cashiers contradicted him lively, "You've got a lot of nerve, both of you. Officer, these two deserve a medal, they're two heroes, I swear!"
The adrenaline level in Jarod's blood was lowering, returning to normal levels. As a reaction, he began to tremble, and saw that Erin, too, was showing the same symptoms. Because he knew it was possible to pass out, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and escorted her to one of the benches along the wall at the entrance, sitting then next to her.
"Thank you", he answered the clerk's comment, "but I can assure you that in this very moment I feel anything but a hero."
"Me, too", Erin whispered in a choked voice, her eyes wide. Now that the effect of adrenaline had vanished, she was realising the risk they had taken, "My God, Jarod, they could have shot us… they could have killed us!"
"But they didn't, so forget about it", he cut her off, knowing what she was feeling. He had seen this kind of reaction in soldiers and police officers to whom he had been a colleague during a number of Pretends, and he knew that the only way to get over it is accepting the fact as it was, not thinking about ifs or buts.
His resolute, almost rough tone obtained the desired effect, and Erin began at once to breathe better.
They had to stop for a while to give their preliminary statements, then the police let them all go home. Before leaving the building, Erin called Jean to tell her what had happened; she took the afternoon off, too shaken by the event to be able even to think to go to work. Jean understood and exhorted her to relax.
"Stay at home tomorrow, too, if you need to", she urged her, "I can manage, here."
"Thanks, Jeanie, you're an angel", Erin said, "If I don't feel comfortable coming tomorrow, I'll let you know."
They were about to leave, when they saw that a crowd of curious people had gathered behind the police barrier; there was also a network troupe shooting around and several reporters shouting questions.
"Damn!" Jarod cursed under his breath, "I don't need this!"
He couldn't risk to show up on the news, no way, because this would mean the Centre discovering his whereabouts and Miss Parker and her team descending on Santa Lorita like vultures. No, he wouldn't allow this: he had the right to be left alone, for God's sake!
With a grim expression, he took Erin's hand and led her back; they cut and ran from the rear door and took a cab to return home, leaving Jarod's car parked in front of the bank.
During the run, which lasted about twenty minutes, Jarod remained silent, frowning, and the same sad omen caught Erin that had troubled her one month earlier, when she had sensed he had a secret worrying him.
Realising that his attitude was upsetting Erin, Jarod forced himself to better spirits: he had escaped the peril, why should he worry any longer? He flashed her a reassuring smile and clasped her hands in his, and Erin, knowing he wanted to calm her down, forced herself to return smile and clasp, but the trouble that had caught her persisted, deep down at the bottom of her soul.
When they arrived home, Erin headed for the bar and, like the night they had met, poured whiskey in two glasses. Jarod accepted it, knowing that alcohol is a good sedative for shaken nerves, even if it's not good taking it as an usual cure.
Then, Erin headed for the bathroom and began to fill up the bathtub: a nice warm bath would help them to relax. From her rich collection of essential oils, she picked camomile and rose, known for their sedative effects, and when the bathtub was filled, she dove in the scented and foaming water of the hydro-massage: it was too small for both her and Jarod, so they had to take turns.
After half an hour, spent listening with closed eyes to soft music coming from the stereo, Erin stood up and dried herself, wrapping a light bathrobe around her naked body. She let out some of the now lukewarm water, and let in enough hot water to restore the temperature. When all was ready, she went to the drawing room to call Jarod.
She caught him sitting on an armchair, staring at an indeterminate spot in front of him, his gaze blank, almost glassy. It reminded her overbearingly the night when he had caught her in this same attitude and he offered her his comfort, and she had accepted it and vented her pain, telling him the unhappy story of her marriage; suddenly, she decided to put aside the scruples coming from her discretion: it was about time to make him speak, so she could help him like he had helped her.
She approached him quietly and sat on the arm of the chair. Silently, remembering how he had acted, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders.
"Jarod…" she called him softly, "What's wrong?"
Jarod turned and looked at her; he needed one moment to focus his gaze. He saw her looking intently at him with a concerned expression, worried about him, and he realised that she was offering him the same comfort he had offered her one month earlier. He swallowed and felt a lump in his throat, preventing him to speak.
"I've been watching you for weeks", Erin went on, quietly, "Sometimes I see you so sad that I feel my heart breaking. Mostly after using that laptop computer in the metallic case… if it is indeed a computer", she paused, waiting for a confirmation or a denial that didn't come; so she continued in a quiet tone, "I said once that when a secret begins to hurt, it hasn't to be kept anymore. Some time ago, with your help, I put into practice what I preached. Have you any idea how much it has been relieving? How much I am grateful to you? How much I'm happy, now, thanks to you…?" her voice faltered for a short moment, "Please, speak to me", she begged him.
Jarod was trembling, realising that he couldn't keep the truth from her any longer. He told it only to Nia, a long time before, but he didn't describe her his interminable captivity at the Centre in all its horrifying details. She had accepted the few things he had told her, not judging and not asking; but Erin deserved to learn everything, however Jarod wondered if she could bear that knowledge. Yes, he decided: if she had been strong enough to rise alone from the bottom of the abyss of desperation that had swallowed her up after the shattering of her love dream, around which she had concentrated all of her life, if she had been strong enough to allow him to enter her heart, accepting to risk again being hurt, then she was strong enough also for this.
He told her everything: about how he was kidnapped as a child, taken away from his family at the age of four, and brought in a dark place called the Centre, a true museum of horrors; how he had been forced to train his specific skills as a Pretender, under Sydney's guidance, who he had ended up loving like a father; about his encounter with Miss Parker, the Centre chairman's daughter; about their friendship, their loneliness, their innocent children love; about Kyle, who many years later he would discover to be his brother, trained by the wicked Mr. Raines to become a killing machine and redeemed before being mercilessly killed; about his empathic friend Angelo, once called Timmy, before Raines' dreadful experiments would damage irreparably his brain; and then about how, after over thirty years of that life – the only kind of life he had ever known – he had discovered that his Pretends, which he had so far believed to be aimed to mankind's good, were actually used for nefarious purposes; about his escape from the Centre; about the hunt for him, mainly through Miss Parker, Sydney and Broots, the latter a shy and clever computer technician; about the discovery of the infinite small and great things that makes the outer world various in a way he could never have imagined; about the complex hate-love relationship that tied him now to Miss Parker; about the help he received from Sydney, who loved him like a son. He told her about his success in resolving sad cases and ensure to the police criminals who otherwise would remain unpunished; about his unceasing search for his parents, of whom now he knew names and faces but with whom he wasn't able to reunite once and for all; how he had finally met his father, Major Charles Russell, three years before, and how with him he had made the disturbing discovery that he had a fourteen-years-old clone, whom the Centre had created. He told her how, along with his father, they had taken him from the Centre; Charles had him under his care now, and they had disappeared for almost one year, until Charles had contacted him again because he had been able to find Emily, his sister. And then he told her about Ethan, whom Catherine Parker, Miss Parker's mother, had conceived without her knowledge with Major Charles' semen; about the woman's fake suicide, so she could escape the Centre to try to save this imposed child, but Raines had killed her.
A t the end of the long tale, Jarod was weeping hot tears, venting the excruciating pain the loneliness that had gone with him all his life had caused him, until his encounter with her. Erin, too, was weeping, sharing the sorrow of a man who was particularly sensitive, nonetheless strong enough to have the courage required to show his real feelings with no shame.
She wrapped her arms around him and made him place his head on her bosom, stroking gently his short brown hair. She was distressed: she would have never ever believed that such a horror could exist on Earth, a place where the most elementary human rights were not only ignored, but deliberately crushed, and individuals were used and abused and belittled in a way that not even animals deserve.
She rocked him like a child, understanding at last the reason of the oddness she had noticed in him in the weeks they had spent together, his naivety underground that sometimes created an unexpected counterpoint to his mental sharpness, the ignorance of a number of elementary details of social life that made a harsh contrast to his apparently limitless knowledge. He had grown up in an ivory tower that, unlike the fairy-tale, wasn't the seat of the Fairy Realm but of hell, and it was a miracle of Heaven that he didn't go insane.
She wondered how she could relieve the immense anguish she perceived in Jarod, how she could possibly make him forget the bitterness of solitude and the lack of love that had characterised such a great part of his life. The answer sounded obvious to her: covering, surrounding him with her love. She made him lift his face and wiped off his tears with her kisses; with one hand, she stroked his arm, until their fingers interlaced.
"If you are here for me", she whispered to him, her lips close to his, "I am here for you. Until my last breath, until you want me… until the end of time."
Jarod wrapped his free arm around her waist. Weeping had been as relieving as telling her everything, and his heart was now light as a feather. Erin left his hand, turned and, slipping down from the arm of the chair, settled in his lap. Jarod held her tight, searching for her mouth. He had a thirst for her, he had a hunger for her, he was in need of her as the air he breathed. Feeling so much dependant on her sometimes scared him, but it thrilled him, too, because it was the confirmation that he had truly found the completion of his being.
He kissed her with an intensity he had felt never before, and she returned him with the same intensity. He felt a compelling need for her, not for the physical satisfaction, but far more to express his feelings… to love her with his body as well as he loved her with his heart, mind and soul.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where they made love all afternoon, until night, until losing count of how many times they did it. When they were finally too exhausted for more, they lay there, just holding and caressing tenderly one another; Erin placed her head on Jarod's shoulder, her lips pressed at the base of his neck, and he stroked gently her hair and back. Then Erin lifted her head, cupped Jarod's cheeks and looked deeply in his eyes:
"You will be alone never again, Jarod Russell", she stated softly, for the first time using his true name. Hearing it spoken aloud by her gave him an incredible thrill, which made his heart quiver; he held her tight.
"I know", he confirmed under his breath, "But you, too, will be alone never again, Erin De Rossi."
A lump in her throat, Erin returned his hug.