Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Fourteen

"If you hold my hand and take me where you go, I'll show you the side that no one knows." —Broods, "Taking You There"

Kevin woke up entangled with Alexis, her bare skin pressed against his own as she slept soundly in his arms. She was curled up on her side, facing him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Her distended abdomen pressed against his torso, and he could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He brushed a rogue strand of hair out of her face, marveling at the sheer luck that had brought him to that moment.

This was his favorite way to wake up, and in the last six weeks it had quickly become part of their routine. Despite the odd hours he was keeping, Alexis always slept later than him. She was on the cusp of her third trimester, and that fatigue she'd been mostly free of for the past few months was returning. Kevin let her rest as much as possible, taking every opportunity he could to bond with his daughter.

His hands pressed against Alexis' stomach, and after a moment he could feel the baby moving around. She was always active in the late morning, and with each passing week she became easier to feel.

"Dia duit mo ghile," he said in a soft, low voice. "Good morning, little one."

There was a particularly forceful kick against his hand in response. She knew his voice. He was sure of it. Alexis' fingers sleepily found his. "Ow," she mumbled.

Kevin kissed her stomach. "Did I wake you?"

"That penalty kick did."

"She was saying good morning."

"Mm," she responded, blinking against the late-morning light shining through the windows. "What time is it?"

"Just after eleven. You hungry?"

Her hands slid across his shoulders. "Not for food."

Kevin grinned at the clear desire in her eyes. Alexis was a bundle of needs, and he was more than happy to fulfill every single one of them. He stretched out next to her, his mouth inches from hers. "What would you like?"

Her hand slid down his torso, and he moaned when her fingers wrapped around him. "Give you one guess."

Moments later, she was straddling him, rocking on him with a lazy rhythm that drove him wild. It was simultaneously too slow and too fast, dancing down the line between slow lovemaking and passionate fucking.

"Alexis," he moaned, jerking his hips upward, grinding her hips downward—anything to stop the teasing. She just kept the rhythm going, leaning down as far as her belly would allow to kiss him. Frustrated, he bit her bottom lip and she moaned into his mouth, her fingernails leaving crescent moons on his chest. She was close. He on the other hand, was going crazy with unfulfilled desire.

He rolled them over, pulling out and dragging her to the edge of the bed. Alexis laughed at his initiative.

Much as he enjoyed being on top of her and feeling every inch of her soft skin move against his, that was becoming increasingly difficult with the baby between them. They had to improvise. Standing at the end of the bed, her legs wrapped around his hips, Kevin eased his way back inside her. He set a grueling rhythm, one they both enjoyed if Alexis' moans were any indication. Sooner than he would have liked, she clamped down on him with a cry, and the world narrowed to pure sensation as he spilled himself inside her.

He collapsed next to her, and her fingers threaded through his. "Good morning," she panted.

Yes, he was definitely the luckiest man in the entire world. The last six weeks had been as close to heaven as he was ever going to get, and he'd savored every moment he could with the woman he loved, watching in awe as their child grew inside her. He kissed her shoulder. "You okay? I wasn't too rough?"

She shook her head with a grin. "You were just right." Her stomach audibly growled. "You said something about breakfast?"

He laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to her belly. "Anything for my two best girls."

After taking a shower, Alexis stood in front of the bathroom mirror, slowly combing out her hair. It was longer and thicker now than it had ever been, and that wasn't the only difference. Twenty-six weeks of pregnancy had brought color to her face and filled out her sharp cheekbones. Despite everything, she looked happier now than she had in years. She wasn't sure how that was possible, but she couldn't deny the proof right in front of her.

The last six weeks had been a small piece of heaven. Every moment in Kevin's company had been perfect—talking, laughing, making love, falling asleep in each other's arms, talking to their baby and feeling her respond. Alexis hadn't realized how much loneliness, how much empty darkness, had taken root in her heart until she'd finally given in and let herself try to be happy with Kevin. She hadn't even had to try hard. Being happy with him was as easy as falling asleep.

"Alexis," she heard him call from the kitchen. "It's almost ready."

Alexis slipped on a loose-fitting dress and joined him in the kitchen. He was wearing only his sweatpants, and his mussed hair screamed that he'd just gotten laid. A carton of eggs and a bowl of batter sat on the counter. The smell of fried dough hit her before her mind could fully process the scene in front of her. Nausea squeezed her stomach and anxiety slammed into her chest. She gagged at the scent, clapping her hands over her mouth and shaking her head.

Kevin frowned at her response. "Alexis?"

Seconds later she was dry heaving into the sink.

"Sweetheart—"

"Pancakes," she managed. "I can't—not since—" another round of nausea hit her, and she coughed and retched, her empty stomach yielding nothing. Her head spun as she clutched the edge of the sink. She heard Kevin knocking around in the kitchen behind her, and a few moments later cool hands ran brushed her long hair to the side. His hand moved up and down her back until her stomach stopped heaving. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She shook her head. Her sensitive nose could still pick up the scent of batter from the garbage can, and she didn't trust herself to open her mouth without throwing up.

"You want to lay down for a minute?"

Alexis nodded, and Kevin guided her into the living room and helped her get comfortable on the couch. He hurried back to the kitchen while Alexis took deep breaths to slow her nausea and racing heart. The last time she'd been triggered like that was when her dad make pancakes for her one Sunday morning long before she'd moved to LA. It had only been a few months since the warehouse, and Alexis had spent the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom, sick to her stomach, while her father begged her to come out. It had been three and a half years since that day, and Alexis had thought that perhaps she was over that particular trigger. Knives didn't bother her, but put a plate of pancakes in front of her and she was helpless. It was almost funny.

Kevin returned with a cool, damp rag, gently wiping the sweat from her face and neck. It felt like heaven against her flushed skin. He set a can of ginger ale on the coffee table in front of her.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Kevin sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. There wasn't room enough for both of them with the baby. Silence set in for a moment, and he gently took her hand in his. He watched her with heavy, sad expectation. "You don't like pancakes anymore." It sounded like a statement, but it was laced with questions.

Alexis took another deep breath and shook her head, a traitorous tear slipping down her face. Kevin caught it with his thumb.

"You made pancakes that morning—chocolate chip ones. Do you remember?"

Kevin's eyes widened, and she knew he remembered.

When I'm a famous doctor, I'm going to keep you in the kitchen all day—like a breakfast food-making trophy husband.

I like the sound of that someday.

His eyes flickered down to her chest, stopping momentarily at the scar tissue that peeked out from the neckline of her dress. He understood. He understood all too well. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

She squeezed his hand. "It's okay. It's not your fault."

He didn't respond for a while, and Alexis slowly sat up. She took a swig of the ginger ale. Her hand rested against her stomach; their daughter was doing cartwheels, either because it was her most active time of the day or because Alexis' system had been shellshocked. It was the strangest thing, feeling a tiny human being move around inside you. Alexis knew she'd miss it terribly when the baby was born.

Kevin's hand rested on hers. "Omelets?" he asked.

"Please."

"How's it taste?"

"Delicious," Alexis answered with a smile. "Little Charlotte loves your omelets. I swear they're the only thing she has always let me eat."

They sat on the balcony, the late September air just the right temperature for an outdoor brunch.

"Charlotte, huh? You think that's the winner?"

"Do you have something else in mind?"

Kevin took a bite of egg, chewing thoughtfully. "What about Roisin?"

"Ro-what?"

"Roisin."

"Roisin," Alexis tested it out on her tongue. "What's it mean?"

"Little rose," he said with a smile. "It'd be perfect for a redheaded girl."

"Brown hair is a dominant trait," Alexis reminded him.

"And you come from a long line of redheads."

"Or maybe she'll be blonde like Brigid."

Kevin didn't even blink at the casual mention of his sister. "Did I ever tell you I had red hair as a child?"

"What?"

"It got darker as I got older, but I was a little ginger kid. Red hair, freckles, the whole nine."

Alexis laughed. "Oh no. She doesn't stand a chance."

"See? Roisin is a good choice. We can call her 'Rosie' for short."

Alexis' heart skipped a beat at the name, and she felt that familiar flutter in her belly. She took a bite of her omelet, a small smile tugging at her lips. "We'll see."

"Castle, you have to calm down."

"How am I supposed to stay calm, Kate? Alexis has been missing for six months and—"

"I know how long she's been gone, Rick, but screaming at and threatening our only informant is not going to help us find her."

"He was lying!" Her husband's voice echoed in the small observation room.

"You don't know that."

"He recognized Ryan when we showed him the photo. I could see it in his face."

Kate crossed her arms. "So why would he give up one of them, but not the other?"

"It's not a coincidence that Alexis goes missing and then Ryan comes back from the dead. He's involved in this, and I'm going to find out why." Rick slammed the door behind him, heading straight to the elevator.

Kate sighed, resting her hand against the glass barrier, watching their informant sit, stone-faced, waiting for another round of interrogation. It wasn't looking good. Not for Alexis, and not for the newly discovered Ryan. Alexis' abductor had been identified as Devin Sloane, a street boss for an Irish crime syndicate. Their witness, Joe Connolly, had been picked up by Hunt. Whatever the operative had said to the low-level criminal, Connolly had been frightened into cooperating. He'd given them Sloane, and he'd promised to cooperate if the feds could get him immunity, maybe even witness protection.

But he wouldn't give up Ryan. Connolly insisted that he'd never seen Kate's formed partner in his life. She didn't believe him, but if the fear of giving up Ryan was more powerful than whatever Hunt had done to him, Kate knew she'd have to follow the leads the old fashioned way. There would be no shortcuts.

Hunt was still looking, as far as they all knew. The operative had checked in only twice since Castle had made contact. By that point, Alexis' face had been plastered over the news for so long that Hunt already knew and was looking into her disappearance. The first time Hunt had checked in, he'd shared the photo that had led them down their latest rabbit hole. The second time he'd brought them Connolly, who had required medical treatment after "accidentally" breaking all the fingers in his left hand.

The investigation was wearing on Kate in more ways than one. She didn't abide by torture, and she knew that involving Hunt could wreck their entire investigation. Ever since Hunt had shared that photo, Castle had been on the edge of insanity—they all had. Esposito was staunchly defending his former partner, saying that Ryan must be there as part of some undercover operation. Castle vacillated between happiness at finding his long-lost friend, and dark, twisted conspiracies that went back to the night Alexis was stabbed in the warehouse.

They had even questioned Jenny, hoping that she could shed some light on her ex-husband's involvement in Alexis' abduction. Jenny had never seen Sloane before, and she had no idea why Kevin would be shaking his hand. She'd thought he'd been killed. The only new information she had to offer was that for the last three and a half years, like clockwork, someone had been putting flowers on Sarah Grace's grave. The flowers were never the same, but they were there every week. It had to be Kevin, and they'd been monitoring the cemetery ever since Jenny's revelation, hoping to catch him in the act.

Their best chances to find out what was going on, to find Alexis, were either catching a notorious criminal or interrupting a grieving father. Kate hoped it would be the former.

Esposito burst into the room, wildly waving a small stack of paperwork in front of her.

"You'll never believe this."

"What is it?"

"I was looking into Ryan's background to see if we'd missed anything that could connect him to Sloane."

"And?"

"Nothing so far."

"So what's the matter?"

"I started looking into his parents' backgrounds. They're not real."

"What?"

"Kev's parents. They're fake. Fake names, fake social security numbers. Alan and Julia Ryan never existed."

Cold, hard realization set in. "Son of a bitch," she whispered. Ever dark fear she'd carefully ignored since finding out about the photo was staring her in the face.

"Beckett, I don't think we know who Ryan really is."

Of all the people Brigid Nolan expected to find on her doorstep at four in the morning in mid-October, her older brother had not been one of them.

"Kevin?"

"Can I come in?"

She blinked at him for several seconds. "Okay."

He brushed past her, nervous energy escaping with every movement. "How have you been?" he asked when she shut the door behind him.

Brigid had seen him only once in the last four months. They'd crossed paths while he was paying a visit to Nolan. He'd nodded at her as he walked out of the brownstone. That was it. She'd known his anger and distrust had run deep after all the secrets she'd been keeping, but Brigid had never expected him to be silent for so long. "Is Alexis okay?" she asked. Even if, by some miracle, her brother had forgiven her, he wouldn't be stopping by at that hour for a social call.

"She's good. You're going to have a niece, by the way."

A smile spread over her face. "You're okay with that?" Brigid knew how much baggage Kevin had tied up in the idea of having another daughter.

Kevin nodded. "I am."

"Third trimester, right?"

"You've been keeping up?"

Brigid shrugged. "I do what I can to stay up-to-date on the people I care about."

"Well, that's why I'm here."

And there it was—the real reason he'd come to her place. "You want me to come back."

"Something's off about Sloane lately, and I can't put my finger on it, but it makes me uneasy to leave Alexis alone."

"Sloane's bound to get crazier as Nolan gets closer to the grave. He's probably chomping at the bit to take over."

Kevin nodded. "I know. We don't have much time left. She's ten weeks away from full term—"

"And Nolan's got a couple more months at most."

"The apartment is well protected, but if Sloane or one of his lackeys can get in, she's defenseless. Brigid," his eyes took on a crazed quality, "I can't let anything happen to her."

Brigid sighed. The whole thing was ready to blow up in their faces. "I can't be there all the time without arousing suspicion, but I'll do what I can."

Kevin nodded, seeming relieved. "Thank you."

"What are little sisters for?" she said with a small smile. To her surprise, Kevin's arms wrapped tight around her. After a moment, she hugged him back. "I've missed you, deartháir."

"I missed you too."

Not much later, Kevin left, returning home to the most important people in his world. Brigid smiled, thinking of how far her brother had come in the past several months. She was happy for him. After years of heartache, he finally seemed to get getting a taste of the joy he truly deserved.

Brigid climbed back into her bed, wrapping her arm around her bedmate's waist and pressing her cheek against the back of his neck. Liam was the heaviest sleeper she'd ever known, thank God. Her middle of the night reconciliation would have gone very differently if her brother and her fiance had come face to face.

"I love you," she whispered to him, content with the silence that answered. The simple rise and fall of his chest was enough. Brigid had learned to be happy with stolen moments and simple pleasures, and she knew her brother was right to be afraid of the change that was coming.

Happiness was a fragile thing—fragile as a beating heart. Neither one of them took much to break.

Author's Note: So many plot threads, so little time. I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please review!

Be sure to check back Friday for the first chapter of Partnered, a brand-new Rylexis story written by yours truly and the amazing JJS4.

Here's the synopsis: "After his partner is taken off active duty, Kevin Ryan is stuck with rookie detective Alexis Castle. He thinks she's a spoiled brat, and she's not very impressed with him either. When a near-fatal mistake causes their work and personal lives to collide, Kevin and Alexis discover that first impressions are often deceiving. Inspired by 'The Time of Our Lives.'"

Next time: Tensions rise as Kevin and Alexis' time starts to run out.