Chapter 10
Eric went home that night exhausted, completely drained, and most of his lack of energy was due to the sleepless night he'd had before. So when he did get to his condo, he wasn't hungry, he didn't take a shower, but the first and last thing he did was go into the bedroom and begin to get undress. It may only be 8:23PM, but he was going to sleep. He pulled his clothes off tiredly, barely having the energy for that motion, and stumbled over to the bed, kicking something across the floor into the nightstand. Eyes half-closed already, he reached down and picked up the object. The second he touched it Eric's tiredness disappeared instantly. The soft feel of the velvet, the length of the box, reminded him immediately of what he'd dropped in his rush to get out and over to Calleigh's last night.
Slowly, hesitantly, he opened the box and stared at the twinkling diamonds and sparkling emeralds that adorned the slender tennis bracelet. He stepped back to the bed and when the backs of his knees made contact, Eric sat down heavily. A bracelet, obviously bought before they broke up. Obviously a sign something was serious between them. God knew, Eric wasn't the commitment type before. This bracelet was a testament to feelings he'd had for her. Not one for easily stating what he was thinking or especially feeling, actions spoke louder than words in his estimation. And this bracelet was proof he'd yelled at the top of his lungs the feelings that had swamped him regarding Calleigh Duquesne.
Even with 90% of his memories missing as they related to their relationship, Eric knew he'd loved her with everything in him.
Eight emeralds, eight years—and a note in his writing. And much more. A pregnant statement, implying they not only had forever in front of them, but that the possibilities were limitless. Eric knew himself. He wouldn't have said something like that if he hadn't had some definite possibilities in mind. Just how committed was he to Calleigh?
Eric applied pressure to the top and the case closed with a pop. Instead of putting it back on the top shelf where it had fallen from, he found himself placing it much closer, in the top drawer of his nightstand. What possessed him to do such a thing, Eric didn't want to examine and so he ignored motives.
After stripping down to his boxers, he climbed into his king-sized bed and hit the bedside light, enveloping the room in quiet and peaceful darkness. Sleep came quickly that night, due to the stressful evening before and the long day, but whether they came because of unresolved issues or Calleigh's presence that Horatio insisted on, Eric found himself dreaming. Dreaming of snippets, moments in time, no real sense of a timeline. Even as he subconsciously knew he was dreaming, Eric didn't want to leave.
"Okay, now what you want to do is make sure your stance is right. Legs shoulder-width apart, in line with your hips," Calleigh instructed, placing her hands on Eric's hips to correct and adjust.
They were outside, the Florida sun shining brightly, barely a cloud in the sky. He had to suck in a sharp breath at the soft feel of her hands on his bare skin where his shirt had ridden up and his muscles there tensed. Eric was holding one of Calleigh's Bushmaster AR-15 .223 caliber rifles, stock pulled hard to his shoulder so when he fired, recoil would be reduced.
A flush crept over Calleigh's cheeks when she noticed Eric's involuntary reaction. She tried to pretend it didn't affect her, pretend his nearness wasn't a bit distracting. Eric was a friend. That's all. "Come on, Eric, concentrate," she admonished. "You're the one who wanted to improve your firearms qualifications."
The scene changed abruptly.
"Oh, God, we shouldn't be doing this here," Calleigh whispered, frantically trying to extract herself from Eric's arms, and at the same time unable to resist arching her neck to give him better access. They were in a utility closet. Eric had pulled her in as she'd been passing through the halls on her way to AV.
"Maybe not," Eric murmured, his voice hushed by the fragrant skin of her neck, "But I really don't care. And, I suspect, if you dropped some of those inhibitions, you'd realize just how hot this is." Eric nibbled gently at the tendons, and he felt a shiver run through his girlfriend.
Calleigh's only answer was to grasp Eric's head and pull it closer as he tried to remove her top.
What the hell had gotten into him? Eric asked himself. He'd made love to her just that morning, five hours ago. Five long hours ago, a voice inside grumbled. When had their relationship branched into office sex?
"I'mmmmm," Calleigh moaned, "not inhibited…. Or did you forget last night?"
It took a second for Eric's addled brain to catch up and realize she was responding to his comment. Half a second later his cock came to complete attention at the reminder of the night before. Where the fuck had she learned that trick? he thought, heat rushing through his body. The heights of pleasure they'd gone to…Eric was still recovering.
Before the scene could progress, the dream changed again and this time, not for the better.
Calleigh threw some of her things into an overnight bag, trying not to look at Eric as he came into the bedroom. The condo was a disaster, clothing, knickknacks, and other assorted belongings strewn around, as if someone had been frantically going through them.
"What's going on, Calleigh?" Eric asked quietly, concerned, unsure of what was happening, but a part of him had an inkling. More than an inkling. It was a hard ball of fear and terror curled in his gut.
She still wouldn't look at him. "I can't do this anymore, Eric."
"Do what? Be with me?" He voiced the fear that had been with him since they started seeing each other.
A jerky nod was his response.
"Why?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer—actually, he was damn sure he didn't want to know the answer—but he couldn't help but ask. Maybe there was something he could do….
She shook her head. "We work together, Eric. This won't last and I can't do this again. Pretending rumors and whispers don't ruin my career. I've been there. I won't go back."
He was confused. What was she talking about? Everything was so perfect before today. What had changed? "Nothing's going to happen. No one at work knows and they won't unless we tell them. On our own time," he protested.
Calleigh looked at him for the first time and he saw the tears swimming in her eyes. There was more to the reason than just work, more than she was telling him.
"We're out of time, Eric." She finished packing her bag.
Up until now, Eric hadn't wanted to stop dreaming, but he didn't want to see her walk out. He didn't want to see the death of their relationship. Clawing himself out from the dream world, Eric woke up, heart pounding, a combination of relief, fear, anger, and grief beating at him, each vying for supremacy.
Grief won for the moment and tears pricked his eyes. Just a few short extra memories, but each contained a wealth of information. The first—obviously that was from when they first began the training sessions. Even then there had been an inkling of something more. The second dream…who knew at what point in their fledgling relationship had that scene happened, but considering Calleigh hadn't pushed him away angrily and stalked out, Eric thought their relationship was secure at that point, but still new enough that they couldn't get enough of each other. Finally, the last—Eric could have lived without remembering that particular memory and he was uncommonly grateful he had woken up before he saw her walk out of his home. As irrational as it sounded, he didn't think he could have taken being witness to that particular moment. The memories were fresh in his mind, as if they'd just happened, instead of a year ago, and Eric found himself conflicted: His heart wanted Calleigh back. His head argued and fought against forgiving her, reminding him she'd broken up with him, caused the heartache. And there was still so much anger inside. What was he to do?
Eric needed to talk to someone. Two people instantly came to mind and he decided to visit with his mother tomorrow after work and schedule an appointment with Dr. Andrews within the week.
Calleigh decided to take Alexx's advice, and for the most part, she gave Eric his breathing space. But she couldn't help checking in on him a couple of times that day, just to see he was all right. And of course, he caught her, but he didn't say anything. His lips would just tighten and he'd turn back to whatever he was working on. Mercifully, Horatio didn't force them to work another case that day even though two double homicides and a robbery had all of the investigators working furiously. Instead, Calleigh and Ryan took one of the crime scenes, while Eric and Natalia took the second homicide. Horatio, in a rare moment, decided to investigate the robbery with a floater from the nightshift pulled in specifically because the dayshift was swamped.
Calleigh went down to Autopsy that afternoon to confer with Alexx about where she'd found a piece of evidence on one of the victims, when she ran into Eric, who was heading the same way. The ride down the elevator was quiet, tense, and seemed to last forever, and she thought about anything but Eric to occupy her mind.
Eric barely spared her a glance and instead concentrated on the report in front of him, attempting to appear busy and disinterested when he was anything but. Finally the doors opened and he had to suppress a breath of relief as he walked slightly ahead.
Alexx was just finishing stitching a body when the duo walked in. A raised eyebrow was the only indication she knew something was up and both steadfastly ignored it. Calleigh waited patiently while Eric talked to their friend and instead examined the vial he had come down here for. He reached for the vial just as Calleigh did and for a brief moment, their fingers touched and electricity arced between them. Calleigh suppressed a gasp. Eric hissed, grabbed the vial, and bolted out of the bay without a glance toward either of them.
Alexx said nothing, but the look on her face spoke volumes. He wasn't as immune as Calleigh thought, she mused. Just give him time, baby. "So, what brings you down here?" she asked aloud.
The rest of the day passed for Eric relatively quickly. He grabbed a second to make an appointment with Dr. Andrews four days from then, as the doctor was booked until Monday. No more run-ins with Calleigh and he had plenty to keep him busy on account of the double homicide he'd picked up that morning. So it was with a sigh of relief he exited the Miami-Dade Police Department doors and walked to his car. It was almost seven-thirty, but his mother would still have dinner warmed for him.
When he arrived at his parents' home in Little Havana, Clorinda Delko was on the front porch, sweeping the floor of grit and leaves. "Hi, Mami," Eric greeted, clearing the steps and pressing a kiss to her weathered cheek.
"M'ijo, have you eaten dinner yet? There are some empanadas and rice and black beans on the stove. Help yourself," Clorinda said, setting aside the broom and following her only son into the house.
"Thanks, Ma," he replied, moving into the kitchen to do just that. After he'd helped himself to a plate of home-cooked Cuban food, he dug in at the dining room table.
Clorinda observed her boy silently. There was a weariness in his eyes and his frame that hadn't been there a week ago. Tension lined his shoulders and dark circles were faint, but visible to her mother's eyes. Something was wrong with her boy and it appeared he was ready to tell her. "Pavel, ven aqui," Clorinda yelled. If her son was there to talk to her, he would talk to both of his parents.
Eric had known coming to the house to talk with his mother would really mean talking with his father as well and that was all right with him. He could use his dad's opinion on the situation. He looked up as his father came into the dining room, nodded his hello, and quickly finished his meal. "I…need to talk to the both of you about something. Something I recently found out about," Eric started. The whole story came tumbling out, everything from the dreams he'd been having, when and how he and Calleigh became involved, to their breakup, the aftermath of the shooting and her cover-up, and their confrontation the other night.
To say his parents were shocked was an understatement. "I didn't even know you were seeing someone back then," Pavel said.
Clorinda averted her eyes, but Eric caught her lack of response to his father's statement. "What, Ma?"
His mother cleared her throat. "Well, you never brought anyone over, but I thought maybe something was going on."
"Excuse me?" he asked.
She fidgeted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable. "A few weeks before your shooting, you came over. It was a party for Isabella because she did so well at her school play," she started, referring to one of Eric's nieces.
"I don't remember coming over," he murmured, searching his memory.
"There's a lot you don't remember," Clorinda stated, unconsciously echoing Calleigh's softly spoken words from the other night. Eric had to force himself to keep from flinching. "While the girls and your father were outside, you came in. I was in the bedroom, cleaning up. You asked me about your father and I, how we knew we were meant for each other. We talked a bit and I got the impression you were dating someone special. Then you asked about Abuela's engagement ring. None of the girls had wanted it. I still had it. You changed the subject and that was it."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, a touch of anger tingeing his voice.
Pavel shot a warning glance at his son. Eric knew better than to disrespect his mother in such a way.
"Because you didn't mention it again. Something must've happened because for a couple of weeks before the shooting you were sad, clearly hurting. I wasn't going to touch on that subject, whatever it was, until you came to me. And then you got shot. A failed romance seemed such a trivial matter in the grand scheme of things, Eric. You were near death…" Clorinda's voice trailed off, and she shuddered in remembrance of those tortuous days, waiting for Eric to wake up, praying for a miracle, pleading with God that he wouldn't take their only son away like their Mari.
Eric worked through his anger at his mother for not telling him. In hindsight, she was right. It didn't matter, not when she had thought she was going to lose him like they lost Marisol. "Regardless of what you didn't tell me, the fact of the matter is that Calleigh didn't, not once until now."
"And you're angry with her, no?" Pavel asked. Eric nodded, but something in his eyes had Pavel adding, "But even with that anger, there is still something more. You feel love too."
Eric hesitated, not wanting his father to be right, but then he nodded miserably. "There's a part of me that's unaccountably pissed off, betrayed, and then there's another part of me that just wants her."
Pavel Delko was normally a quiet man, allowing his wife to voice her opinions, but his son was hurting and he wanted advice on what to do. "Do you love this woman?" he asked quietly, watching his son's face for the truth if he thought to lie.
Eric had to take a hard look at his feelings. He had so many emotions when he thought of Calleigh and they tended to get all jumbled up in his head, in his heart. He felt so conflicted when he thought of her. He should be angry, pissed off beyond belief, betrayed, and he was all of those things, but there was a large part of him that wanted to try again with Calleigh. "Yeah, I do," he admitted out loud. Regardless of everything that had been said, everything she'd done and failed to do, he still cared for her and it was hard to reconcile those feelings with the emotions of anger when he thought of that night. When he thought of all that she had stolen from them when she didn't tell him about their relationship.
"Then you've found your answer. Everything can be worked out if there is love," Pavel finished uncomfortably. He wasn't a man to speak of his emotions freely.
His wife picked up the conversation. "Do you think your father and I have had a wonderful life together free of arguments? Every relationship takes time and work to get through the rough times. As long as you love the person you're with, anything can be overcome." Clorinda did not think what Calleigh had done was right, not by any means, but she could understand her motivations. Eric had told her in the past about Calleigh's background and she knew what the young woman had overcome to reach this juncture in her life. Trust did not come easily for one such as she. Clorinda reached out and squeezed her son's hand. "Trust your heart, m'ijo. It will not lead you astray," she concluded.
Eric thought about his parents' comments over the next few days, but could not bring himself to make a decision. Instead, he tried to concentrate on the job, and to that end, he continued searching for a match in AFIS for the print he'd discovered the week before on the crumpled picture frame from the Miranda Waters murder. AFIS finally finished processing and no match was made. Ms. Waters' ex-boyfriend was nowhere to be found and his were the only prints not taken to either eliminate or identify him as a suspect. A BOLO was put out for Michael McAdams, a person of interest. Later that day, Eric saw Tripp hauling in a familiar face, cuffed hands behind his back, and sporting a nasty shiner on his right eye.
Tripp parked the man in the interview room with a uniform escort and walked over to Eric. "Look what the cat dragged in. Deltona PD picked up McAdams at a toll booth heading up I-95 toward Jacksonville and probably out of the state."
"Thanks. I'll get Calleigh and we'll talk with him."
Eric wasn't really looking forward to being in the same room with the woman for an extended period of time, but he had no choice. They'd both been primary on the scene and there was no helping it. Interviews usually involved two investigators. He pulled her away from DNA and Valera and they walked into Interview One. Eric closed the door behind him and took a seat next to Calleigh, being careful not to touch her. The last thing he needed was to be distracted. She read him his rights and when he didn't ask for an attorney right away, the interrogation began.
"So, Mr. McAdams, were you planning an extended vacation?" Calleigh asked, starting right in, making mention of the fact he'd been caught high-tailing it out of the area.
The man was fidgety, edgy, which in turn made Eric edgy.
"No, just wanted to get away," he said, purposely vague.
"Would that have anything to do with the fact your girlfriend was found murdered in her living room?" she asked sharply.
McAdams appeared jittery and in a show of supposed goodwill, Eric asked, "I'm going to the vending machine. Would you like a Coke?"
McAdams nodded his thanks and Eric left, glancing at the uniformed officer to tell him without words to keep an eye on the guy in case he tried something. He left and got back as soon as he could, two sodas in hand. McAdams popped the top and guzzled it down in a few short swallows. "Hey, let me throw that out for you," Eric said nicely. God, he loved his job. No search warrant needed for trash.
Calleigh had to smother a smile at Eric's pretend 'good cop' routine and continued. Four hours later had McAdams blubbering like a baby that he'd killed his girlfriend because they'd broken up just a few days before and she'd kicked him out of her house. "We didn't find any of your things there," she commented.
"That's because I snuck in a couple of days before. Miranda gave me a key when we moved in and I grabbed my stuff while she was at work," he sniffled. "I didn't mean to kill her, really. I was just so pissed off, I chucked the frame with our picture in it at her and it knocked her out cold. Or at least, I thought she was just unconscious. When I checked her body, she was dead. God, there was so much blood!"
Eric had to keep his face impassive as he listened to McAdams. When he'd said, "grabbed my stuff while she was at work" something had resonated inside and Eric realized he'd never seen anything of Calleigh's at his condo in the six months plus since the shooting and returning home. With the exception of the bracelet, which he hadn't even given her, there was no tangible proof she'd ever been in his home. And Eric knew, if he was involved with someone as deeply as he knew he had been with Calleigh, there would be something there of her: a brush, a scarf, perfume. Something to indicate her presence.
As quickly as he could, he processed McAdams and handed him over to the county jail. Anger was mounting and Eric wanted some semblance of privacy when he confronted Calleigh. "We need to talk," he muttered, pulling her through the halls, searching for a room that didn't have glass windows and walls. They went downstairs and blindly passed several co-workers who tried to engage one or both of them in conversation. But Eric wouldn't have it. He saw a room marked 'Storage' and twisted the knob, relieved to find it unlocked, and pulled himself and a protesting Calleigh inside, locking the door behind them. He fumbled with the light switch on the wall and finally flicked it on, bathing the large room in soft light.
"Eric, what the hell?" Calleigh demanded, rubbing the wrist where Eric had grabbed her.
For a moment, he paced around the space, weaving in and out of rows of chairs and the few tables inside. "Did you remove the rest of your things after we broke up when I was in the hospital?" he demanded.
Calleigh's angered face dropped and a blank look came over her features. "Why do you ask?"
"I remember that night. I had a dream about you leaving, citing the same bullshit about work and packing some of your things, but there was a lot in the condo. Much more than could be packed in one bag. And then something about what McAdams said clicked. From what I remember, we were practically living together. Of course you'd have a key," he asserted.
"I-I—" Calleigh stuttered.
"Don't lie," he said softly.
"I wasn't," she replied, equally as soft. "When you were still in recovery, I went in and collected the rest of my things, the remainder that didn't fit in the bag that night. I locked up and put the key in the potted plant beside the door." One more thing for Eric to hate her for.
"You completely excised yourself out of my life," he said angrily, taking a step towards her.
"You were in the hospital, Eric. No memory of me, of us, and the last thing you needed was to see your partner's thing littered over the condo and have to ask why," Calleigh defended, anger rushing to the forefront. God, she was so freaking tired of his accusations and she took an unconscious step towards him in retaliation.
"There you go again, making decisions for me, for us. Did it ever occur to you to let me decide what I did and didn't need?" he practically yelled, getting in her face.
Their eyes flashed angrily at each other and suddenly, in the next breath, Eric's lips were crushed against Calleigh's. A noise of outrage was quickly smothered by the press of his lips as his head angled closer. Breath heaving, he couldn't get enough air, but that didn't stop Eric from taking only the second kiss he'd tasted from Calleigh—the first for him being the nightclub.
Calleigh resisted at first, still angry with him, but soon she was responding ardently, unable to convince her wayward body to let go of his. Instead her hands grasped hungrily at his back, roaming the broad shoulders and down his waist to the swell of his ass. Her lips fused to his and her tongue darted inside intently, wanting to taste every inch of him. The last time they'd kissed, Eric had taken over and she wanted her turn. She hadn't truly been with him since before the shooting and her hunger was raging.
Eric found himself out of control, unable to stop, unwilling to stop, and his hands caressed what they could reach—breasts tipped with hard points were rolled and tugged before moving on to the flat plane of her belly and resting on her hips, squeezing the curved protrusions and arching her pelvis into his own, grinding their lower bodies together so that the pad of her soft pussy met the hard erection trying to stroke inside her from behind several layers of clothing.
Calleigh knew she should stop this madness, but she couldn't. Not when there wasn't anything between them now. Jake was gone. Eric knew the truth. She wanted him. It was that simple. And apparently, regardless of his conflicted feelings, he wanted her.
Eric rotated his hips urgently and bucked into her center. Only a few minutes in and he was ready to blow like a fifteen-year-old with his first girl. Calleigh's mouth wrenched away from his in an uninhibited cry, quickly silenced by the press of her head to his chest.
The sound of something or more accurately, someone, jingling the doorknob was like an arctic blast of water across their passion and Calleigh frantically pushed Eric away, panting as quietly as she could. Both of them waited with baited breath, praying the person was gone for good. A few more minutes of silence and Calleigh breathed a silent sigh of relief, straightening her clothing. Eric did the same, and neither of them looked at each other.
"Let's pretend this didn't happen," he said awkwardly, thinking of what could happen if they had gotten caught. Probably a suspension for both of them.
A flash of something glimmered in her eyes, quickly there and gone, and was replaced by a hard look. "Fine," she said and, after a beat, unlocked the door, leaving the way they'd entered.
Eric breathed a harsh sigh of relief mixed with intense frustration and anger. What the hell had they been thinking? What had he been thinking? He was supposed to be pissed at her, wasn't he?
Calleigh brushed at the tears that seemed determined to come despite her best intentions as she walked hurriedly back to the main level and through the front doors of the department. She needed a fresh breath of air, to not be in the same space as Eric Delko. She'd known Eric could be a bit of a bear at times and insensitive, but she'd never known him to be so callous. Her body still burned and sang from his touch and she was slightly ashamed to find she wanted more. What a glutton for punishment she was! When was she going to learn? The man wanted nothing to do with her. And that's why he had his hands all over you, a voice inside snidely remarked. Yeah, right.
This push and pull, back and forth with him was starting to wear on her nerves. She was trying to do as Alexx suggested and let him work things out on his own, but it was hard. Conflicting feelings swamped her. She wanted him back, but the way he'd been treating her lately made a part of her second-guess her decision. Was this really what she wanted? Waiting on tenterhooks for Eric to make a decision one way or another? At the same time, her guilty conscience scolded her. He had every right to be acting this way and she felt obligated to allow him his space. What right did she have to take his choices away? She'd hurt him enough already. He deserved whatever time he needed. And if he decided he didn't want her, well then, she would move on. Somehow. Calleigh's heart clenched in fear at the bleak thought, but her mind strengthened her defenses. Yes, she thought resolutely, if Eric decided against jump-starting their relationship, she would move on with her life. No matter how much it broke her heart.