A/n. And here is the 2nd chapter. Thanks to dear PenguinOfTroy for proof reading and helping with being stuck.
Disclaimer. Still not mine.
Red
Chapter 2
Richard Castle was contemplating his death. Or rather the way it would occur.
The situation that he was in at that moment gave him two possible options – by the gun of a furious Kate Beckett or by her crashing his Ferrari into the nearest obstacle.
The car crash seemed more likely judging by how said Detective was speeding through the darkened streets of New York.
He didn't know how she could look so together and so in turmoil at the same time. Despite the speed of the car, not a hair was out of place. Her face, though stony, was perfection. He simply could not deny that even now he found her irresistible. The white knuckles on the steering wheel and determined gaze never lingering from the street in front of her was a sign that only worse things were to come. Castle doubted there was a millimetre left in between the gas pedal and the floor of the vehicle.
It seemed his mind was going a mile a minute, matching the speed of the Ferrari. His thoughts jumbled in his head like the lights down the street melting into lines and making everything look fuzzy. Faster and faster emotions swirled and tangled in the mind of the man.
He did not know where to begin.
First and foremost the emotion coming forward was fear, if his sweating palms were any indication. His heart was hammering in his chest, both from the unexpected turn of events this evening and by the adrenaline rush that a powerful car going at top speed on a busy street could give you.
And her. He was scared of her.
What the hell is Beckett doing? He had never seen her this pissed off, not at him, not at a filthy criminal. He didn't even dare to glance at her. The warning to keep his mouth shut still echoed in his head. Her rigid posture, blazing eyes, pursed lips told him to sit still and wait it out.
Confusion was another one. He had no idea what had triggered Beckett to kick his date out of his own car, aggressively shove him in the back and tell him to not make a sound.
He had been polite, doing his job, avoiding any sort of personal contact with her, made himself scarce as soon as the day was over. She seemed fine when he left. So what the hell was her problem now?
Profanities started appearing in his head at rapid speed. Little sparks of fire shooting off in his brain.
What the fuck! Damn it to hell.
He had finally given her what she wanted, she did not care about him. She lied, she didn't speak up. She didn't give him any indication that she wanted more.
Hell, all the time and space he had given her to think it through, supporting her from the shadows, being her friend. Not pushing. Being patient for her. Waiting.
She lied.
Arrgh, he could feel the hurt and embarrassment flow through his body. Hurt from the deceit, embarrassment for being a fool in love. A foolish idiot thinking that she loved him back or at least was on her way there.
But no. Not the case. Not best day ever. Worst everything.
Kate Beckett had truly ripped his heart out and put her spiked heel through it.
He had never felt this broken, desperate and lonely. Not his first rejected works, cheating and gold digging wives, not even the bullet through Beckett's chest had made him feel like his life was over, every breath hurting, limbs not being able to support his aching being. The leather jackets, the blonde bimbo (yes, bimbo, even he admits it), the cheery facade, his damn Farrari that Beckett was putting through its paces at this very second, all for a show, to somehow ease the blinding pain.
It was impossible for him just leave. He had grown to love being an unofficial cop. He did not have a detective's tile, a badge or a gun, but working at the precinct, following the detectives and solving murders not only gave him inspiration, but made him believe that he was making a difference. Making the world a better, safer place. No, quitting was not an option.
But staying …
He winced, his brow furrowed. Swallowing hard he tried to stay still and not let his emotions boil over. But somehow the dangerous speed of the car made his body tingle with anticipation.
His fists clenched even harder. He worked his jaws together almost painfully. The off switch was slowly slipping out of his grasp like grains of sand and turning back to full on.
The indifference just did not seem possible any more. Castle clenched his teeth.
"Just hold it together, Rick," he muttered under his breath.
Why did he still have to love her with every fibre of his being? His mind, body and soul just refused to forget how impossibly perfect she was for him.
But she lied. To him. She did not care. She did not want his heart.
No.
But then what the hell was this? This woman sitting next to him. She seemed almost foreign. Her fury made her look like she was on fire. She looked downright possessed, and, oh my God, was she jealous? Why would she be? She did not care. His mind flashed with images of Beckett, her reactions to him, her smiles, her eyes, her body leaning close to his own. Had he been wrong?
"Stop it. She doesn't want you, she lied," Castle moved his lips inaudibly.
"Lies, all lies, but then why ..." his voice was trying to break through. The voice of reason, not the voice of hurt and anger. But the one that dug a bit deeper, and deeper still.
It started deeply in his chest, that first rumble.
"Stop."
Louder.
"Stop."
More force.
"Stop."
Steely, low growl.
"Stop the car, Kate."
To be continued...
Reviews please.