A/N: I want to thank all of you for all the great feedback. I'm sorry it took so long to get a new chapter out. Between RL and my muse insisting on starting "One Step Back", I did not spend much time on this story until this week. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer in part 1
Guilty
by imagine
part 20
When she pushed him away and started back in the direction they had come, Jarod was dumbfounded. He watched her trudge through the snow, seemingly making a point of not walking in the tracks they'd already made. Her hands were pushed tightly into the pockets of her jacket and her shoulders were hunched forward to battle the wind but, as always, Miss Parker's head was held high.
As she reached the edge of the woods, and was about to step out of the covering of trees, he hurried to her side and pulled the woman back. Before he could question her about her actions, however, she glared at him and demanded, "Why did you have to do that?"
Stunned, he loosened his grip and the woman easily slid from his hold. "Why did I do what? Kiss you?"
He stayed where he was, becoming more bewildered as she turned and stomped away from him again.
"Exactly," she growled, swung around and started back toward him. "I told you that I was responsible for everything that has happened, including the fact that you almost died, and how do you respond? You kiss me. What the hell is the matter with you?"
"You told me you wanted to give us control over our destinies," he corrected, "and I kissed you because I think I'm falling in love . . ."
"Don't say it," she warned. Picking up the downed limb of a nearby tree, she waved the thick stick at the confused man. "I swear, if you say it, I will hit you so hard, the boy will feel it in Vancouver."
He hesitated, letting the words hang between them a moment, then shook his head. "Parker, I don't understand. Why won't you let me say what I thought was obvious?"
"Because it never should have happened," she said simply. Refusing to meet his gaze, she continued, though her voice wavered, "If I had kept the information about your mother to myself, we wouldn't be standing here, right now. We shouldn't be here."
"Other than the fact that my feelings for you started when we were children, not in the last week," he answered, "You don't believe really believe that everything that's happened has been a mistake. Do you?"
Refusing to acknowledge the tears of frustration that had filled her eyes and were now trailing down her cheek, Miss Parker replied in a strong voice, "I never say anything I don't believe."
"What about the things you said a few hours ago?" he pressed, keeping a soft voice. "Last night, when you and I were together, you told me things I have waited my whole life to hear. You told me things I could have convinced myself were part of a dream, if you hadn't repeated them this morning."
"I never repeated anything I said last night," she argued.
"My mistake," he smiled. "I must have dreamed it this morning, reliving it because it was such a beautiful experience the first time."
She hesitated and averted her eyes. He had easily manipulated her into admitting the confessions she'd made the night before and, though she feigned anger, there was a big part of her that was happy he had done so. The last thing she wanted, or needed, was for him to sense her inner conflict.
"I was caught up in the moment," she finally said.
"So your words meant nothing?"
Using both hands, she wiped her face and took a deep, shuddered breath. Though the sharpness of the air made her chest hurt, she held the breath until it warmed then released it quickly and glared at him.
"If you didn't mean what you said, tell me now. Look me in the eye and take back every word, every promise you made last night." When she started to move away, he called after her, but did not move from his spot. "You can't say it because you feel the same way toward me that I do toward you."
"Don't do that," she commanded, in a rough voice. Spinning toward him, she pointed the stick at Jarod and took a determined step in his direction. "Don't you dare stand there and tell me how to feel. Don't you dare shoot me one of those puppy dog looks and think it's going to change the fact that we're here because of a potentially lethal lapse in judgement on my part."
"Will you please stop saying that? Nothing you have done was a mistake," he replied. Closing the distance between them, Jarod calmly wrapped his hand around her weapon and tossed it to the ground. "Before now, neither of us was getting anywhere with our lives. We were going in circles, Parker, and you forced us to move forward. You did what you were meant to do."
"What I was meant to do. So, now you believe in Fate?" she laughed. Her eyes were filled with tears and the smile she forced held a bitter edge. "You don't believe in coincidence, but you believe in Fate."
"Not the way you think. I don't believe that there is some unseen force that is in control of our lives. The only way a life can change is if someone has the courage to make it change. You did that, Parker. You changed our lives, for the better."
Miss Parker hesitated then shook her head.
"And it frightens you," he sighed.
"You're damn right I'm frightened. I have never been so frightened in my life!"
"The fear of the unknown can be very powerful and . . ."
"It's not the fear of the unknown, Genius," she interrupted, angrily, "it's the fear of death."
The words hung in the air for a second, then, slowly, Jarod slid his hand in hers. When she looked up at him, he brushed the hair from her face.
"No one is going to hurt you," he promised, softly. "I won't let them."
The sincerity of his words brought fresh tears to her eyes. Her free hand cupped his cheek and, without thinking, she brought his lips to hers. The kiss was as brief as it was soft and, when she pulled away, she replied quietly, "It's not my death I'm worried about, you idiot. It's yours."
In the moments that followed, they fell into a comfortable, but unsettling silence. Leaning heavily against a downed tree trunk, Jarod responded to the woman's fearful admission by sliding his arm around her shoulder and pulling her tightly against his body. When his lips pressed against her forehead, Miss Parker stopped struggling and closed her eyes, honoring his request for a few minutes of silent closeness.
They had been sniping at each other since early that morning and, she was tired. She was still scared but, for the moment, she felt safer than she had in days. Her head rested against his chest, just above his heart, and her hand firmly clasped his.
A sharp breeze penetrated the cocoon they had formed and, as Jarod shivered in response, Miss Parker drew back to study his face. Without hesitation, the Pretender gently increased his hold on her and murmured a soft, "Not yet."
Ignoring his protest, she searched his eyes, making silent note of the reddish glaze that had spread over them. Despite the dark beard that had started to form along his jaw, the color in his cheeks had faded and, for the first time, she realized his breaths had become shallow. There was no question, in her mind, that Jarod needed to be back at the cabin, in front of the fireplace, as soon as possible.
"The temperature is dropping," she told him. "It's time we headed back."
Jarod nodded. Though he wanted nothing more than to keep her in his arms, he knew the idea was not practical. The last hour was beginning to take a toll on his body, draining him physically and emotionally. If they didn't start back now, there was a good chance she would have to act as a crutch for him, and Jarod had no intention of letting that happen.
Waiting until he was on his feet, Miss Parker started through the woods, opting to ignore the trail they had already made, through the open field. The trees blocked the harsh wind, making the occasional high drift less demanding on Jarod's already strained muscles.
He walked beside her for several yards, saying nothing but moving closer to her with each step. His hand brushed against her arm then, without warning, slid around hand. Every half dozen steps, or so, he gently squeezed her fingers and, without comment, she returned the gesture immediately. Soon, they fell into such an easy rhythm that they barely realized they were controlling it.
When the cabin was visible through the trees, signaling their need to move out of the woods, Jarod pulled the woman to a stop. Pressing her against the trunk of a large evergreen, he ignored the questions in her eyes and, leaning forward, tenderly brushed his lips against hers. She responded in kind.
"From this point forward," he whispered, "I don't want you to be afraid for me and, on the off chance that something should happen to me, I don't want you to take the blame. For as long as I've known you, Parker, you've had my back. Even if you don't, I trust that you will always do the right thing, where I am concerned."
She opened her mouth to protest but Jarod laid a gloved finger over her lips.
"And I will always do the right thing, where you are concerned. Trusting that you will take care of me, gives me the freedom to take care of you."
Then, after capturing her lips once more, Jarod slid his arm around the woman and continued toward the cabin.
He looked at his watch but fought the urge to look out the window. They had been waiting for more than an hour and his patience was wearing thin. The man sitting at the foot of the stairs was leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees and his head resting heavily in the palm of his hand.
"Victor, wake up," he hissed, slapping the man's forearm out from under him. "If you are not alert when they arrive, you will be useless to me."
The sweeper nodded and struggled to suppress the yawn he knew would add to his employer's annoyance. Pushing himself to his feet, he murmured an apology and crossed to the cold fireplace. He was bored with waiting. It had been an extremely long day and, the longer he sat around doing nothing, the more his eagerness to exact revenge on Jarod and Miss Parker was beginning to wane. If the two did not reappear soon, he was afraid he might not have the edge he needed to punish them for making him, repeatedly, look like a fool.
He turned back toward the other man in time to see him disappear into the bedroom they'd decided belonged to Jarod. Since arriving at the house, they had been in every room and found nothing Victor felt was worthy of a second glance. Alex, however, had a completely different opinion.
Like Miss Parker's room, on the second floor, they'd already rifled through Jarod's room three times, as a team, and a room Alex had examined it alone, twice. In addition, the room across from Jarod's had been searched a total of four times.
The items in the three bedrooms, it seemed, held a special interest for the man. And, the longer they waited for Jarod and Miss Parker to return, the more Alex moved between the chambers. An hour ago, Victor would have followed the man and offered his assistance in another search. Now, he just stared at the open door and frowned.
"Did you find something?" he asked, when the man returned to the living room.
Alex shook his head. "Nothing new."
"But you found something," he surmised. "Earlier, you found something you think will be useful, didn't you?"
When the ex-pretender smiled to himself and turned away, Victor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If he were a different person, he mused, he might actually feel sorry for Jarod.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
She nodded and filled the mug in front of him with hot water. "For the last time, Sydney, I wouldn't have suggested it, if I wasn't sure."
"You took a big enough risk contacting Broots and then distracting Lyle so we could escape," he continued. "If we are found here, you and your husband in a great deal of danger."
Handing him a box of fruit-flavored tea bags, she straightened and stared at the psychiatrist. She found it interesting that, though he sounded sincere, the man was taking a very calm approach to arguing with her.
"Mike and I are not worried," she promised. "Now, will you please relax?"
"But . . ."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," the older woman hissed, sitting back in the chair. "Emma and her husband have made a generous offer, one that has advantages we cannot overlook. If you don't want their help, then say so and leave. Just stop the waffling, already."
The man glared at the woman, his back stiffening as his hands tightening around the warm mug. Unimpressed, she held the gaze with one that was equally as hard, until the nurse stepped between them and added more coffee to Margaret's mug.
"Listen to me," she said as Sydney's eyes flicked in her direction, "I couldn't let you just leave the hospital, knowing that Lyle and his men were still in the vicinity. The cabin is too far away. There was too much of a risk that they might see you."
"And too much of a risk that we could lead them to Jarod," Margaret added.
"I would not have . . ."
"She's right," Emma interrupted, taking her seat across from him. "You told me you came back because you had to retrieve Margaret's case, in order to protect Jarod. At this point, there is no reason to let Lyle and his men scare you away from doing just that. Mike is on the phone, trying to convince a friend of his at the Police Department to bring the case to our house."
"If Lyle, or one of his men, had followed us, we would have known by now," the other woman said. "I see no reason we can't spend one night here."
"What if Lyle figures out where we are, in the meantime?" he dared. Shaking his head, the psychiatrist stood and crossed to the kitchen door before facing the women again. "I don't believe Jarod would want us to jeopardize the safety of Emma, or her husband."
Margaret opened her mouth to speak but Emma held up her hand, effectively silencing the woman. Moving from the chair, she stepped in front of the man and took his hand.
"I appreciate your concern for us, Sydney, but Mike and I are perfectly capable of handling this situation. Besides, in the last few days, I've learned a lot about Jarod. He would not want the two of you taking unnecessary risks," she said, leading him back to the table."
He sighed and looked from Emma, to Margaret and back again, knowing he had no choice in the matter. Jarod would never forgive him if he returned to the cabin without his mother and Margaret had no intention of leaving, when the promise of retrieving the scrolls was so close.
"One night," he said, defeatedly. "We leave first thing in the morning."
"He was having difficulty remembering things," she said. "His name, his age, how he came to be in the hospital, all of it was a mystery to him."
"But there were things he did remember?"
"Well, I don't know about that but his subconscious was working overtime because his nightmares were so horrible, we had to sedate him on a nightly basis. It was just a matter of time before he put the pieces together."
Lyle let the woman's words sink in, and nodded thoughtfully. "Did he ever tell you what the nightmares were about?"
She shook her head.
"Where is he now?"
"Psychiatric wing," she said, looking down at her chart. "Fifth floor."
His spirits lifted so suddenly that Lyle had to suppress a smile. "He was put in the Psychiatric Wing because of some nightmares? A little extreme, don't you think?"
Sighing heavily, the woman slid the patient chart to the side and stared at the man. "If you must know, he became violent."
"Jarod became violent?" he repeated, incredulously. "I don't think that's possible."
"Well, trust me, it is. The doctors ordered an MRI for him, to see if the accident had caused any damage, and Jarod agreed. As soon as he saw the machine, however, he started struggling and saying he didn't want to die again."
"Is that so?"
She nodded. "It was the strangest reaction we've ever seen. He became so distraught that he broke the nose of an orderly. He kept yelling, alternating between calling for someone named Sydney to help him and shouting obscenities. It took almost twenty minutes, and a double dose of his normal sedative, to get him under control. That's when they transferred him."
"Did you find her?" he demanded.
When both men shook their heads, he pivoted in place,Lyle's eyes roamed the halls for some sign of the woman who had led him on a wild goose chase.
"One of the other nurses said she left for home about thirty minutes ago," one of the men offered.
Lyle turned and glared at the man. "What's your name?"
Swallowing hard, the sweeper pulled himself to his full height. "Jeremy Potter, Sir."
"Well, Jeremy Potter," he spat, "Did you find out where 'home' was?"
The young man's eyes flicked from the Chairman's son to the nurse who had given him the information, and then back again. "Um, no, Sir. She wouldn't give it to me."
"Then find someone who will," he growled.
They had only just stepped out of the tree line when Jarod pulled her to a stop. Confused, she followed his line of vision, then looked back at the man.
"Jarod, what is it?"
"The snow," he said, keeping his voice low. When she shot him a questioning look, he nodded in the direction he was staring.
Once again, she faced the direction he had indicated and, before she could formulate a demand for an explanation, she saw the stream of tracks. The entire yard was a blanket of crisp, even and ice sheathed snow, except for a thin path of disturbed clumps and welts that ran from the woods to cabin.
"Could it be an animal?" she asked, her eyes darting from him to the house as he moved closer to the trail.
"Doubtful," he replied. Taking a step back, he grabbed her hand and pulled the woman into the safety of the trees. "Unless Bambi has started wearing a size twelve hiking boot, we've got uninvited guests."
"How many?"
"Two," he sighed, still staring at the back of the cabin.
"Jarod, look at this."
Turning, he crouched beside the woman and voiced soft sounds of agreement as she pointed out markings in the snow.
"They came from that direction," she said, indicating deeper into the woods. "They parked out there somewhere, so we wouldn't see them, and then hiked to the cabin."
Standing, Jarod nodded. "It makes sense."
"Which means that there is a car, or a truck, or something, at the end of this trail," she finished. "All we have to do is . . . "
Her words faded as Jarod began shaking his head. His gaze was not on her, nor was it on the cabin. He was staring over her shoulder at the trail of footprints that disappeared into the tree line. Suddenly, it felt as if a fist had formed in her gut. Rising to her feet, she moved to his side and wrapped her hand around his arm.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't make it that far, Parker," he admitted, finally drawing his attention from the snowy incline. "You need to go without me."
"Absolutely not. We will think of something else."
Sliding his hand over hers, as it squeezed his arm, Jarod forced a smile and turned so the woman was standing in front of him. "I will be all right."
"I know you will, because I'll be with you to see to it."
"No," he whispered. His fingers curled under her chin and, immediately, she brought her eyes to his. They sparkled with the same kind of fear he had seen earlier and Jarod hated that he was the cause. Using the firmest tone he could manage, told her, "You have to go. You have to warn the others. Broots and Debbie are probably more than half way here, by now. I don't want them walking into something like this."
The mention of the technician and his daughter made her hesitate. Her eyes shifted from his, to the road in the distance, and back again. Though he didn't see the fear subside at all, he did a spark of the Ice Queen persona that he hadn't realized he was beginning to miss.
"And, what will you do?" she asked.
Glancing over his shoulder, at the cabin, Jarod forced a smile. "I'll take care of our guests."
"Not a good idea. We have no idea who is in there," she said, shaking her head. "I can think of at least half a dozen possibilities, and none of them are comforting."
"We don't have a choice. I can't sit out here."
"No, you can't," she said softly, her eyes running across his face. "You need to be somewhere warm."
"I need to be inside. I'll be fine."
"Will you please stop saying that?" she hissed, lightly slapping his arm. "Just because you say it, doesn't make it true."
"It doesn't make it false, either," he grinned. When she responded with a deep scowl, he shook his head and smiled wider. "I love it that you're worried about me, but you have to stop. I've been in worse situations that this, Parker. I can take care of myself."
"How?" she demanded. "Give me one reason to believe that you can handle whoever is in there, waiting for you, and I'll go."
Sighing heavily, he looked back at the cabin a moment. She watched him, knowing that he was running simulation after simulation, hoping to create one that would appease her. In her mind, he was doing nothing more than thinking ahead, anticipating every possible scenario. But, she knew that was an over simplified definition. In order for any of outcomes to be accurate, Jarod had to also remove his emotions from the mix and that, in itself, was incomprehensible for her. Though she remained silent, her eyes never left his face and, the longer he took to face her, the more she found herself in complete awe of his ability.
Abruptly, Jarod's eyes met hers, glistening with a knowledge she could never understand.
"What is it? What's your great plan?" she asked, feigning annoyance.
"I'll go in the same way they did," he told her.
Her eyes darted to the window where the footprints disappeared. "You mean, you're going to break in and wait in the basement?"
When she looked back at him, he nodded. "From down there, I will be able to hear everything they're doing and saying."
"Assuming, of course, that they're not sitting down there waiting to do the same thing to us. How can you be so sure that they're in the main part of the house?"
Slipping his arm around her shoulder, he used his other hand to point to a window on the first floor. "That's my bedroom window," he told her.
"So?"
"It's closed."
"And?"
Stepping in front of her, Jarod bent his knees so they were at eye level. Gracing her with his trademark grin, he said, "The window was open, when we left and we've been gone for almost an hour and a half. Whoever is inside, can't build a fire because it would signal their presence."
"And they're getting cold."
"Exactly," he winked. Straightening up, he kept his arm around her and looked back at the house. "From the basement, I can keep track of their movements and, when the time is right . . ."
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," she snapped, hitting him in the chest. "The only way I am going to agree to this is if you promise that you're going to stay put. No heroics, Jarod, I mean it. You are in no shape to take on anyone, let alone two sweepers."
"We don't know they're sweepers."
"I mean it," she repeated, glaring at him. "Promise me. Promise me that you will not go looking for trouble. Promise me that you will let yourself inside find a hiding place, and stay put until they get tired of waiting and leave, or I get back with reinforcements."
"Parker . . ."
"Say it, Jarod, or so help me, neither of us is going anywhere."
After glancing at the cabin, once more,Jarod sighed heavily andturned his eyes on the woman in front of him. With a reluctant nod, he said,"I promise."
TBC
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