Cal sat quietly, keeping his body uncharacteristically still but inside there were a torrent of emotions ebbing and surging. Anger and guilt topped the crests.
He'd already given his statement. It had been short and concise, his limited memory offering up very little.
But now as he sat listening to Gillian, the true horror of the situation coldly seeped into his bones. The knowledge that she'd gone through it alone festered inside, sharpening his guilt. A huge part of him wanted to go unplug Finn before stopping at county to visit his father…
Of course she'd say that it wasn't his fault.
But they both knew that that wasn't the complete truth.
The Bainbridge family was powerful. He shouldn't have downplayed the possibility that they'd come after him. He'd been arrogant and stupid.
"…I woke up in the back of a large vehicle. They'd tied my wrists and ankles. I was blindfolded and gagged as well. I couldn't move. I had no idea where Lightman was…"
Cal looked down, studying his left boot. She was right next to him, her thigh inches from his.
"…there was a fight but I was still blindfolded. They were trying to inject him with something and I couldn't help…"
Her voice was flat as she recounted, staring past the detective, fixed on the back wall. That horrible empty tone made Cal want to fold her into his arms and kiss it all away. Not that that was a very likely scenario at the moment.
"They moved him upstairs and one of them came back down for me. We were locked in one of the bedrooms for the night."
"They didn't give any indication what it was they wanted?"
Gillian shook her head. "No, but I suspected. We suspected."
"What happened then?"
She glossed over the night, not seeing any point in discussing the fear and borderline hysterics she found herself in or how she'd cuddled as close to Cal as she could.
"…after we were brought food, they drugged him again and then left us alone the rest of the day. I went through the room over and over again looking for something, anything, to defend myself but there wasn't a damned thing."
"How long was Dr. Lightman unconscious?"
"Hours. I lost track." Now her voice had softened to barely a whisper. "He awoke just a few minutes before someone slid the knife under the door."
"You believe it was the second kidnapper."
"Yes, I believe so. He, um, seemed a lot more…reluctant. As far as I know, there wasn't anyone else there."
"What happened then?"
Her heart began to hammer and the nausea crept into the center of her belly once again. What happened then? What happened was that they thought they were going to die. He'd held her to him before admitting that he loved her. And always had. She'd returned the sentiment before they'd shared the most bittersweet kiss. She could still feel his lips firm upon hers, the gentle sweep of his tongue which had promised everything that could have been. As she stared past the detective's dark head, she felt tears glaze over her eyes at the memory. It had been a kiss goodbye.
"Dr. Foster?"
"Um, I kept it…in case…in the event that I needed it."
Her words began to come faster as if she could fling them far away from her, make them distant. Less real.
Without looking up, Cal rested his hand over the two warring and twisting ones in her lap. One immediately stopped trying to injure the other and grabbed tightly to his as the words continued to pour out. Her account of Berkley's death and Finn's stabbing was a lot more coherent than his own. His had been fuzzy and surreal, hers was sharply chiseled in granite. Another wave of guilt crashed over him. What a fucked up situation. Of course it could have been worse. Much worse.
The detective was quiet for a moment after Gillian finished. Cal was aware of the low hum of the computer, the distant chaos outside the office door, the squeak of the detective's loafer as he shifted to complete his notes. The silence was deafening.
They'd survived though. Against the odds. Victims in these types of situations rarely fared well, Cal knew from experience. Usually bodies were discovered by the errant hunter and his faithful dog months later, if ever. He closed his eyes, aware of the tight grip of Gillian's fingers. They were almost painful but he didn't care.
"Is there anything else you need Detective?" Cal looked up, staring at the man's bowed head.
He didn't answer immediately as his pen chicken scratched across his note pad. "I think that should be it. Thank you for your time. Just be aware, depending on whether Bainbridge recovers or not, the D.A. will most likely be contacting you."
Cal nodded grimly.
She wasn't listening. Despite the sleep she'd managed to grab last night, she was exhausted. All she wanted was to crawl into her bed and pass out for the next two weeks if possible.
A gentle hand was tugging her to her feet before it looped around her waist in support. "C'mon luv. I'll take you home." His voice was low, accent heavy. She always loved to listen to him. She chose to concentrate on his wonderful lilt rather than dead, staring eyes or the solid thud of a knife. A shudder ran through her as her concentration wavered.
"Kay?" His lips were by her ear. She almost shuddered again but for a different reason.
"Yeah. I'm alright." They were somehow outside again. The cool temps felt good against her face.
He didn't argue as he guided her to the car.
When they were both seated inside, he didn't immediately move to start the engine, just proceeding to stare straight ahead through the windshield.
"Gill?"
Her heart gave a little clench before releasing. "Yeah?"
"Is there someone I can call for you?"
Was there…? Probably. Did she want him to? Probably not. At least not right now. As a psychologist she knew she needed to take steps to help her recover from what was considered a major trauma. But she just wasn't ready.
She shook her head as he eyed her worriedly.
Returning his gaze, she attempted a shaky smile. "I'll do what I need to do when I feel it's time."
Cal continued to watch her in that unnerving way of his before he allowed a sigh. "Just know I'm here Gill. I'll do whatever I can to help you."
"You are aware you went through this shit too right?"
Very much so, especially Finn making an attempt to cut his tongue out but it still seemed more of a nightmare that anything else. "Yeah luv, but it's not the same."
She shrugged, averting her eyes to look out the side window. "Could you please take me home?"
"Sure."
She wanted to ask him to stay with her once again but it didn't seem right. He'd want to get home, see Emily, probably go out to the Lightman Group to touch base, among other things. With any luck, he'd stay away from the old man, although she wondered what the likelihood of that would be.
The ride back to her place was quiet.
He pulled into the driveway and made it a point to walk her to the door. An air of awkwardness settled as unvoiced emotions swirled between them. She had the urge to prod him about his memories and he had the urge to admit what he remembered. Neither said anything.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" He tilted his head, regarding her closely.
Yes. Please. Don't ever leave me again. God, that seems so co-dependant. She berated herself quickly and harshly. "I think I'm okay."
"We both know that's not true."
Something suddenly shifted and darkly snaked inside as she looked at him, vehemence lashing outward at the closest target. "Of course it's not true. I was kidnapped, terrorized and almost tortured and murdered by some psycho who hated you and wanted revenge. Lucky me because I'm always in the wrong place and wrong time when it comes to your arrogance and your fuck ups!" And your emotional retardation. She managed to leave off that last part but it wasn't easy. Her body was trembling as she fought to control herself.
Hurt and more than a little guilt passed through his eyes as he slowly nodded. "Fair enough."
Before she could open her mouth to retract what had been said, he'd turned and strode back to the car. Without pause he climbed in, keeping his eyes down and put the car into gear.
She watched the car retreat before dropping to the front stoop and covering her face in her hands.