Cal just drove. He had no destination in mind, just seeking to quiet the noise in his head.
He didn't blame her. Not at all. All those pent up emotions had to go somewhere. They just happened to blow up all over him. Of course she was right about everything. He did share a lot of the blame. Sure, he wasn't responsible for their abduction but if he'd taken certain warnings a little more seriously it was possible they wouldn't have wound up in that situation to begin with. Police protection would have certainly discouraged it but the idea of someone following him around 24 hours a day had put such a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't how he did things. Yeah. And look what happened.
With a sigh, he guided the car onto the freeway heading east. It seemed a reasonable direction. Just get out of the city. The city added to the ruckus in his mind.
Once he shook off the DC traffic, the drive became a little more pleasant as the rolling Maryland hills started to close around him. Fall was making its presence known as the rich reds, golds and oranges of the season spread through the trees. It was his favorite time of the year and normally he'd enjoy the views a lot more. Unfortunately that wasn't to be. He was too damned distracted.
It was probably best to give her a little space. Maybe he was just irritating her by being under foot. But then again, was it a bad thing to leave her alone? Shit. He had no idea. It wasn't like he was a shrink or anything. He wanted to be near her, desperately so but he wasn't sure if he wanted to be in the line of fire either. He might feel compelled to fight back and he didn't want to do that.
But then again, she had every right to lash out at him. Maybe he should just stand up and take it. Considering that everything was his fault it even might be a good idea to let her have at it.
But Gillian wanted him near too, he was positive of that. She needed him near. Or was that just what he hoped she felt? He wanted to think she needed him when in fact maybe she just needed to be away from him.
What was that about a woman needing a man like a fish needs a bicycle? Especially a man like him.
But the again, she'd wanted him to make love to her last night. Hardly in her right mind though. The memory flickered from that tiny upstairs bedroom in the cabin…I love you too. They'd kissed. At least he thought they had.
Of course we don't always know what's best for us either. We're often attracted to things that aren't good for us. Like Gillian wanting to be with him. He definitely wasn't good for her. But then again, why did it seem so right? He could easily picture taking her in his arms, kissing her, physically loving her. But didn't he picture that with almost any attractive woman? He did, after all, tend to be a bit of a horn dog. Not something he was particularly proud of but something he recognized nonetheless.
No, he didn't imagine it with just any attractive woman. Sex was one thing. Lovemaking was something completely different. Gillian deserved more than just a slam, bam, thank you ma'am.
If he 'then again-ed' one more time Cal was fairly certain that he'd scream like a charging bull and drive off the road.
He punched the steering wheel several times in agitation. God he loved her. So much that he ached. And here he was speeding away from her at 70 miles per hour.
Fuck. What the hell was he doing?
He took a breath. Must be rational. Or at least try.
Moments later he was done attempting to be rational.
Cal took the first off ramp to make a U-turn.
(BREAK)
Gillian had gone inside when she'd started to shiver and began to feel the eyes of the neighborhood start to fall on her. Any second Mrs. Travers from next door would wander over to check on her.
That was all she needed. The elderly lady meant well but Gillian was in no mood to offer explanations or field questions.
Still sniffling, she palmed at her eyes as she got up and let herself inside.
She'd shoved him away. One of the most important people in her life and she'd cast blame and sent him packing.
Stepping into her entry, she pulled the door shut behind her, mindful to lock the deadbolt. The sobs were threatening once again and it was starting to piss her off. As much as she attempted to push back, they overwhelmed her. With running eyes, she headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine. Probably not the best thing but she poured anyway, almost leaving the bottle on the counter before changing her mind and bringing it into the living room.
Everything was just such a mess.
She hoped the bastard died.
The thought wove its way out of her subconscious, making her breath falter. If Finn died, what would that make her?
A killer.
No. It was self-defense.
Doesn't matter.
Gillian sat on her comfy couch and drank her wine, finishing it in several gulps.
Had Cal killed at one time? Was he a killer? Was there some kind of exclusive club that she might get to join soon? The thought made her ill. She'd always suspected that he'd had his hands dirtied on more than one occasion but had he actually taken a human life? Something about his tone at the hospital made her wonder.
Killing someone is a life changing experience luv. That's not something you should be saddled with.
If she pushed, would he actually open up to her? It was hard to say. With few exceptions, he'd always veered away from talking about his past.
Gillian poured herself another glass. It was a merlot that she'd picked up a few days ago. Sweet and soothing.
Would he be back? Most of her thought so but a tiny part was terrified he wouldn't. She'd been pretty hard on him but it had come out so swiftly that she had had no time to swallow back the barb. It had stung her even as it smacked him between the eyes. And here she thought she had superb self-editing skills.
The light was starting to wan a little, but she made no move to turn the closest lamp on. Last night all she wanted was every light burning and now she craved the darkness. Wanted it to wrap itself around her, maybe suffocate her if it would be so kind.
Maybe she should call him. He'd been able to recover his phone from the police station this afternoon. It had been in Berkley's duffle bag but she guessed they saw no reason to hang onto it. He may not even pick up.
Of course he could have called her too but why would he? She'd made her feelings crystal clear earlier. But he knew her better than that. He knew she'd cool down and be more receptive to him later. That was the way things worked. Usually.
She took another sip.
(BREAK)
The phone rang when he was almost back to the city and Cal almost gagged as his heart lodged itself in the back of his throat.
No guarantee it was Gillian anyway.
Taking a breath he pulled the cell from his pocket without looking at the ID. It was better not to know.
"Lightman."
"It's Reynolds. I have some news and I wanted to…"His voice stalled and Cal's heart began to sink back down, through his chest and into his belly.
"Yeah?"
There was a strong intake of breath on the other end. "I wanted to contact you first."
"He's dead isn't he?" Cal felt numb. He didn't give a rat's ass about Bainbridge but he couldn't stand the fact that his death could conceivably destroy Gillian.
"Yeah. About an hour ago. I figured you might want to…"
"I'll take care of it."
Silence for several moments. "She can't blame herself for this."
"That's exactly what's she's gonna do."
Once pure, now tainted. Cal felt bile rise up.
"If she needs anything. Or you for that matter." Ben sounded a little awkward, which was unusual. "Well, you know where to find me."
"Thanks mate." Cal disconnected and tossed the phone on the seat.
The world was a better place with the death of Finnley Bainbridge, there was no doubt about that. But why couldn't it have been him to take out the son of a bitch? Why did it have to had been Gill?
His head was filled with white noise as he traveled the last few miles back to Gillian. He should never have left in the first place. Might as well mark it as mistake number 3,465,106. And he knew he was far from done yet.
Cal felt on autopilot as he pulled back into her driveway and moved toward the front door. This time, all the lights were out. A direct contradiction to last night. Maybe she just went out.
Not too likely.
Rapping with two knuckles, he listened carefully. There didn't initially seem to be any movement inside. He was having a profound sense of déjà vu when he heard her soft voice. He had to strain to decipher the words.
"Let yourself in Cal."
He did, pausing only to pull the door shut and lock it behind him.
Gillian sat on the sofa. He could barely make out her silhouette.
"Mind if I turn a lamp on luv? Gonna break my neck otherwise."
"Suit yourself." The words were a little caustic but the tone was not. She sounded…lost and bewildered. His heart shriveled at little.
Switching on the entry light, half her face was now bathed in light. Shifting slightly, she blinked up at him. "Am I part of the club now?"
Not so sure about this chapter. May have bounced around a little TOO much to show indecision. Thoughts?