Disclaimer in part 1

Guilty

by imagine

Part 8/?

He released a soft moan and she brushed her fingers through his hair once more, trying to gently bring him back to the conscious world. Knowing everything he had been through, and how badly he needed the rest, she almost felt guilty about waking him. However, Alex's resurrection, and Margaret's reaction to him, was more than enough reason for Miss Parker to interrupt Jarod's sleep.

"Come on, Jarod," she whispered, sliding the outside of her hand down the side of his face, "it's time to wake up. Open your eyes."

The Pretender stirred, turning his face into her touch and smiling softly as he nuzzled her palm. She did not pull away from the stubbled caress, opting instead to run her free hand through his hair and repeat her whispered command. When he refused to obey, she frowned, dropped her hands to his shoulders and shook the man. In his sleep, Jarod waved her away, released another deep moan, and then rolled to his side.

"He's not waking up. Why is he not waking up?" she demanded, glaring over her shoulder at the guard. "Has he been drugged?"

"I was told to keep him quiet. Mr. Cox gave me authorization to . ."

"I don't give a damn what you were told or what Mr. Cox gave you," she snapped, moving quickly from the bed, "I want to know what you gave Jarod and I want to know now."

Flustered, the man retrieved a small bottle from the pocket of his jacket and held it out to her. "I was told to keep him quiet," the man repeated defensively, "to make sure . ."

"How many did you give him?" she asked, staring at the pills inside the copper tinted bottle.

The man shrugged and glanced at Jarod, then replied "One."

Drawing her eyes from the bottle, Miss Parker looked at Jarod, then at the man in front of her, locking him in an icy stare.

"Okay, okay, maybe it was two. No more than three," he admitted, adding quickly, "But, it's not like he tried to refuse, or anything."

"You expect me to believe Jarod took sleeping pills willingly?" she dared.

"I don't care what you believe," he retorted, taking a confident breath, "Mr. Cox hired me to keep an eye on the Pretender and make sure he didn't cause any trouble. That's what I did."

Despite the fact the man was six inches taller and outweighed her by more than one hundred pounds, when Victor finished his speech by placing his hands on his hips, Miss Parker clutched a handful of his shirt in her hand and pushed the man against the closed door. Her eyes flashed with anger and her muscles tensed in preparation for a move she silently challenged him to make; but the guard did not struggle. Startled by her attack, he did nothing but stare at her, unsure of his next move.

"You have a very short memory, Victor, I've told you once already that Jarod is not your job. He's mine," she hissed, "Say it with me ... Jarod is Miss Parker's responsibility."

"Jarod is Miss Parker's responsibility," he repeated, his eyes darting from the woman to Jarod and then back again.

"Good. Now, listen very carefully, because I have no intention of ever repeating myself: Jarod is not the one you need to worry about causing you trouble. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Victor?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Whose responsibility is Jarod?" she quizzed.

"Yours."

"Who is the only person authorized to make decisions regarding Jarod?"

He swallowed hard and nodded. "You."

"Good. There's hope for you yet. Now, go get the wheelchair," she ordered. Releasing him, she stepped away from the door, adding, "And, while you're out and about, tell Sydney I want to see him."

With only a split second of hesitation, Victor peeled himself from the door and quickly disappeared into the hall. She waited until she heard the latch click into place, then moved back to the bed. Jarod's breaths were deep and even; and, as she sat on the edge of the bed, his head rocked toward her, but his eyes remained closed. She watched him for a moment; her head tilted to one side as his face twitched under the weight of her gaze and, finally, when Jarod let out a soft moan, Miss Parker leaned over him.

Placing her mouth beside his ear, she purposely blocked the camera's view of his face and whispered, "You are, and always will be, a troublemaker."

He groaned again, shifting his position beneath her so that his hand was on top of hers as it opened. When he felt her fingers close around the three pills he had palmed earlier, Jarod replied softly, "And you are a troublemaker's best friend."

When Sydney arrived, he found Jarod leaning heavily into Miss Parker, using her body for support, while he eased himself into a sitting position. The blanket that once shielded Jarod's upper body slipped from place, causing the man to shiver slightly while revealing taut muscles in his shoulders and arms. His face was set in stony concentration, determined to complete what should have been a simple task; but Sydney saw the exertion in his protégé's movements.

"What is going on here?" he demanded, crossing to the younger man's side, "Jarod, you shouldn't be up. Parker, you know he needs to rest."

"Well, he's not going to get it here. I'm taking him to my room."

"What?"

"The door has a lock on the inside, as well as on the outside."

Puzzled, the older man looked at Jarod as he tried to maneuver into the waiting wheel chair. After a split second, he reached for the man, sliding his arm around Jarod's back to support his weight for the few awkward steps. When Jarod was finally situated, with a blanket laid across his lap and around his shoulders, the psychiatrist took a step back and asked, "Do you really believe that Cox will approve of . ."

"I couldn't care less what Cox approves of," she interrupted, pushing the bottle of sleeping pills into the man's hand, "Jarod is much to valuable to the Centre to put him at risk of an over dose."

Sydney stared at the bottle for a moment, his eyes widening as he read the name of the narcotic. "Jarod, who gave these to you?" the psychiatrist asked, urgency slipping into his voice. "How many did you take?"

"Enough for me to have trouble waking him," Miss Parker answered, moving behind the wheel chair. Her hands slipped on to Jarod's shoulders, pulling the unresisting man gently against the back of the chair while continuing in a irritated tone, "They were given to him, by the ape standing guard in the hall, without my authorization. Now, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to do something productive and open the door?"

Victor stood and pushed back his chair as the trio emerged from Jarod's room. The idea that the woman had, once again, intimidated him did not sit well with the Sweeper. He didn't care that she was the Chairman's daughter. He didn't care that she had once been the head of Security. All he cared about was recapturing his pride and humiliating her; though he had not yet figured out the best way to achieve his goal.

The psychiatrist was the first to enter the hall. His eyes darted toward Victor dismissively then back to the man in the wheel chair. Though Jarod's eyes were closed and his head rested on the back of the chair, the guard heard him murmur something about wanting to sleep. Taking the time to reposition the blanket that covered his patient, Sydney responded with a nod of his head and a promise that Jarod could nap later then quickly moved to open the door to Miss Parker's room.

Turning the back of the chair toward the bedroom door, Miss Parker looked up from Jarod long enough to meet Victor's gaze. Without dropping her eyes, she pulled the Pretender across the threshold, then let the door close without a word.

While he waited for Miss Parker to complete a sweep for surveillance devices in the room, Sydney silently took Jarod's pulse, checked his eyes and listened to his heart. Shaking his head at the results, he shot the younger man a curious look and moved to the other side of the room.

"I'm sorry to have worried you, Sydney."

"You didn't swallow anything."

Jarod shook his head and pushed himself upright in the chair. "Victor thinks I did, so I had to keep up the charade."

Though the Pretender hid it well, Sydney saw him wince in pain and then drop his arm to his ribs. "Your body is trying to tell you to slow down, Jarod. I can give you something for the pain," he offered.

"No," he snapped. Then, softening his tone, continued, "I know you want to help, Sydney, but I can't take anything that might affect my judgment. There is too much at stake."

"I understand that you're anxious to find your mother and get out of here, but you have to trust that Miss Parker and I . ."

"My mother is here," Jarod interrupted. His voice was strong, but his eyes were filled with pain and his face was speckled with perspiration as he gazed up at his mentor. "Parker saw her in the room at the top of the stairs and Alex was with her."

Startled by the name, Sydney moved to Jarod's side. "Alex is alive?"

"He's the associate Cox mentioned," Miss Parker answered, entering from the bathroom, "Apparently, he's the one who brought Margaret here. She has some information and . ."

"They're using me against her, Sydney," Jarod finished. There was no indication that he felt any type of physical pain but, suddenly, his voice faltered and each word became softer than the one before. "They're threatening me, to make her tell them what they want to know. I have to stop them."

Without realizing he had allowed it, Jarod was soon resting against his mentor's chest like a child being comforted after a fall. While on his knees beside the chair, Sydney held the younger man in a secure but gentle embrace and promised that everything would work out for the best. When he felt Jarod nod against him, the psychiatrist slowly brought his gaze on the woman standing over him.

Pulling the blanket around Jarod's shoulders, he asked, "What is your plan?"

"Alex and Cox have agreed to allow Jarod and his mother to have dinner together, but she can't see him like this. If she thinks he's vulnerable, and that she's to blame, she might give up her secrets, thinking it's the only way to keep him safe."

"I understand," the man nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

"I will help Jarod get cleaned up, shaved and dressed; you go stay with Margaret. I need you to make sure she understands that we're here to help, tell her as much as you can about Jarod and that he's worried about her. Whatever you do, though, don't leave her side until they come to take her to the dinner."

"Of course, but what happens . .?"

Waving away the rest of his question, Miss Parker gripped the handles of the chair and pulled it backward. "Just do it, Syd, and let me worry about the rest. We only have a little more than an hour before they come to take Jarod and Margaret for dinner."

Rising to his feet, Sydney nodded and let Jarod slip from his grasp.

"Make sure she knows I'm all right," Jarod said. "I do not want her worrying about me."

"She's your mother," Sydney smiled, "I doubt I will be able to take all her fears away."

"Try."

Nodding, the older man turned away. When he reached the door, however, he faced them again, watching Miss Parker drag the chair and its occupant into the attached bathroom.

"Be careful," he said.

Miss Parker looked up and nodded at the older man, then closed the bathroom door.

She left him in the middle of the large bathroom and moved toward the walk-in shower, twisted the gold knob on the wall and tested the water with the back of her hand. Before returning to Jarod's side, though, she pulled a small bench from beneath the vanity, draped it with two large bath towels and set it inside the shower.

A large crystal pitcher of flowers stood on the shelf above the toilet. Glancing only briefly at Jarod, Miss Parker reached for the vase. Leaving the blooms on the shelf, she quickly rinsed the container and placed it in the corner of the shower. Satisfied, Miss Parker finally faced the man and gave him a crooked smile, in response to his confusion.

"So, are you ready?"

Jarod's eyes were trained tiredly on Miss Parker, and his mind was racing with questions; but he nodded in agreement. Once again, she was helping him and he still had no clue as to her motive. Though he doubted he would deny anything she asked in return, he wanted to know where all of this was leading. He wanted to know why she had turned up in his hospital room and why she was going out of her way to not only protect him, but to reunite him with his mother.

Before he could formulate a question, though, Miss Parker slipped out of her sweater and jeans, carefully folding them and laying them across the vanity. Her movements effectively distracted him from his thoughts. His eyes slowly followed the curves of her lean body, lingering over the lace-trimmed panties and bra until he heard her clear her throat. Startled, he looked up, into the sparkling blue eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Precisely what I said I would. I'm helping you."

"With what, exactly?"

"You didn't think I was going to let you take a shower by yourself, did you? Forgetting about the fact that you can barely stand, you're not exactly breaking any speed records these days. We have very little time to make you presentable."

"I can manage."

"My way is faster."

Without allowing him another word of protest, Miss Parker leaned over and wrapped an arm around Jarod's bare back. Her free hand slipped around his abdomen and, carefully, she urged the man to his feet.

"Trust me, Jarod," she whispered, when he grabbed the shower door for support, "I know what I'm doing."

By the time he was settled on the bench, Jarod was trembling. Though part of her wanted to believe it was due to their close proximity, Miss Parker knew otherwise. He was exhausted and, despite the fact he did not swallow the pills Victor forced on him, Jarod still had a fair amount of drugs running through his veins. It had been less than forty-eight hours since he was found at the bank of the river and, in that time, he had suffered from high fevers, hallucinations and a sweeper with something to prove.

Standing behind him, out of the stream of the water, Miss Parker began by soaping Jarod's hair. Her fingers slid through the dark locks easily, gently massaging his scalp while he gradually relaxed to her touch. She used the pitcher to rinse his hair, pouring warm water slowly over his head, while Jarod shielded his eyes from the cascading shampoo.

The heat of the shower warmed the room quickly and, soon, steam curled around them. Jarod's breathing became less labored, his muscles less taut and, as Miss Parker ran a soapy washcloth down his back, she felt the quick but steady rhythm of his heart and smiled. From behind, she washed his neck, his chest and his arms with careful, even strokes; managing to soften her touch when she crossed bruised sections of his body.

When the washcloth slipped lower on his body, though, Jarod placed his hand over hers.

"I think it's best if I take it from here," he whispered.

"What are you doing here?"

Sydney rose from his chair and stepped in front of Margaret, shielding her from the new arrival. "I could ask you the same question. If I remember correctly, you are supposed to be dead."

"You should know, by now, Sydney, that death is a temporary condition when the Centre is involved."

"Not always."

The man grinned and moved further into the room, circling the psychiatrist with an amused grin. "Was that a threat?"

"Just an observation."

"I see," he nodded, shifting his eyes to the woman. "You've always been good at making observations, haven't you, Sydney? I suppose that's what you're doing here, now, isn't it? Taking a moment to closely observe the mother of the child you trained?"

Sydney saw Margaret stiffen and, though she took a step back, putting distance between her and Alex, he saw something in her face that reminded him of Jarod. Recognizing the defiance and controlled anger, he stepped to her side and glared at the younger man.

"You have told her about your .. relationship .. with her son, haven't you? How you observed him over the years; how you manipulated him and . . "

"Margaret is quite aware of my connection to Jarod."

"Connection," he repeated, his eyes never leaving the woman as he continued the bantering with Sydney. "Is that what you're calling it?"

"Why are you here?" the older man demanded.

"I asked you first," he responded, pulling his attention away from the woman. "And, in case you missed it, I'm the one in charge here."

"Is that so? Have you explained your ranking to Cox?" Sydney goaded, "I think he might be interested, since he's the one who gave me permission to visit with Margaret."

"When did he do that?"

"About twenty minutes ago, if you must know," he sighed, then moving closer to the man, added in a low voice, "I explained to him that, because of my connection with Jarod, I might have a better chance of getting her to open up. That is what you want, isn't it?"

Alex was silent.

"I thought so. Now," he said, waving toward the door, "if you don't mind, Margaret and I were in the middle of a conversation. Say what you came to say, or leave."

Miss Parker moved into the other room and dressed; but her thoughts remained with him. Leaving him alone was the last thing she had wanted to do and, though her instinct had been to argue with him, the look on his face and the warmth in her gut made her suppressed the urge. It had not occurred to her that, in his present state and considering there past relationship, Jarod might have difficulty being close to her.

In addition, thoughts she hadn't had since she was a teenager were suddenly forefront in her mind; fantasies she thought had faded with childhood were now making her body ache. Suddenly, it was obvious that he needed his privacy as badly as she did.

Admittedly, she had gone into this thing for selfish reasons; wanting to reignite the friendship they'd had as children, in hopes they could help each other answer questions that were still unanswered. The problem was, they were no longer children. They were adults with demons and fears few would understand.

As she stared at the closed bathroom door, she hoped her decision to join forces with him would not lead to something that might backfire and leave them both alone for the rest of their lives.

TBC

feedback is a wonderful thing ;-)

A/N - Thanks to everyone who sent me emails asking for me to continue this story. I know this part has been a long time coming. I promise, Jarod and his mother will meet in the next part which, hopefully, will be later this month.