A/N: For the general setting of the story see the A/N of the prologue.

Originally, I intended to wrap up the events that led to the explosion in this chapter. But it kept getting longer and I still wasn't anywhere near the explosion. So I decided to split it because I wouldn't have been able to post anything this weekend otherwise. The idea of the storyline that starts in this chapter is that Cal gets more and more isolated, deprived of options to defend himself, as the threats continue. A situation that will eventually lead to his desperate decision in the first prologue.

A huge THANK YOU to all of you who have been reading and reviewing. I appreciate it more than I can put into words. That, of course, also goes for the guest reviews. I can't get back to you personally, but I can at least say it here.

The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).

- Inevitable -

"You have a sporty driving style," Gillian states half-seriously, half-smirking when the road bends sharply, causing the tires of the car to squeal because Cal doesn't really care about speed limits. Well, at least not today. His mind is otherwise occupied.

It's Monday morning and since Cal had promised to report the threat to his life and wants to do it personally, he insisted he could as well drive Gillian to work and pick her up in the afternoon. Killing two birds with one stone, as he calls it, albeit they both know that his actual purpose is to keep her under observation every moment she spends outside of her office. If he could forbid her to go to work until everything will be over, he would. In fact, he tried to convince her to call in sick, but Gillian is not the kind of person to do that. Dutiful and loyal to a fault. He knew she heard what he was thinking between the lines of what he actually said when they had that argument.

Aside from Gillian's remark about his driving style, they haven't talked much so far. The silence is neither uncomfortable nor pleasant. Basically like their weekend. Somehow they managed to eat, talk and even watch a movie together, but all things considered it was a tragic mimicry of the weekend it could have been, overshadowed by a sense of foreboding. They spoke at length about the threat and its consequences Saturday afternoon and have been avoiding the topic ever since. The elephant in the room. It was necessary to stay halfway sane and not drive themselves over the edge. The deliberate denial created a surreal, fake peacefulness. A parallel universe they both knew would end Monday morning.

They have to stop by her apartment on their way to work because Gillian forgot to bring her day planner. Even in digital age, she loves to write down her private appointments on paper, adding post-it notes here and there and collecting cuttings she intends to read whenever she will find the time. She always carries it around with herself and doesn't want to start her work week without it. It's a likable quirk. She didn't need to read that thought between the lines. Cal told her that he likes it.

He notices that Gillian fiddles around with the hem of her skirt and covers her hand with his to calm her. She intertwines her fingers with his. A simple gesture that carries great weight. We are in this together. The moments when they touched or made love on the weekend were the only moments that felt real albeit characterized by a raw fear of impending loss. However, Gillian always tried to brighten the mood. And those were no fake efforts. She actually is an incurable optimist and hopes everything will be fine against all odds. Cal hovers between wishing he could be like her and dreading the moment when he will have to witness her disappointment.

Gillian holds his hand until they arrive at her apartment and he gets ready to get out of the car and accompany her inside.

"You don't have to watch every step I take," Gillian reminds him slightly annoyed. "As serious as I think the threats are, they are not directed against me."

Just as Cal darts a glance at her that implies his actions regarding her safety are not a subject he is willing to discuss, his phone rings.

"That could be important. You should answer the call." Gillian raises her eyebrows, evidently approving of the interruption, and takes the chance to go inside alone.

"Leave the door open," Cal shouts, sitting back down in the driver's seat, craning his neck to make sure she does.

Only then he answers the call. Instead of hearing a voice on the other end of the line, though, he observes movement out of the corner of his eye. A man slips into the car, sitting down on the backseat behind Cal. He presses the muzzle of a gun against the back of Cal's neck. Everything happens so fast that Cal has not the slightest chance to react.

"Lightman," Sean greets him, ending the call that made Cal stay behind. "It's been a while."

Cal doesn't respond. He looks in the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of the man who doesn't seem to mind his efforts, smiling at him, but he doesn't recognize him. Judging by his voice, it is the man from the recording, but only Gillian could confirm that and Cal is relieved that she is not with him right now.

"Did you get my message?" So it is the man from twenty years ago. Funny that Cal still doesn't recognize him. The man could have walked past him on the street and he never would have known it was him. That's how our memory works. It forgets seemingly random things to make room for the things we consider important. Save that some things only turn out to have been important in retrospect when it's too late, the memory already gone.

"Yes, I did," Cal responds. "Why me? Played poker a lot back then. And I bet you did, too. But I don't remember you. So why do you remember me?"

Cal received the phone calls he had been waiting for sometime on the weekend, but they were of little help. The only person who could have told him more is his old friend, Terry, and he is the one person Cal couldn't reach. From his other contacts, he found out that Terry left Scotland years ago, his whereabouts unknown. But no one knew anything about that certain poker game.

The look on the man's face changes. Cal sees sadness and grief before the man distorts his mouth. It's not about the money. This is personal. He remembers Gillian's words. Yes, it is, indeed. The micro and macro expressions confirm it.

"How could I ever forget you?" the man hisses.

"Tell me why you couldn't," Cal asks, seemingly unfazed, praying that Gillian will stay inside as long as this will take. Whatever the outcome will be.

More sadness and more grief. If Gillian is right and this is about a woman, the man must have loved that woman deeply. That's what his face tells Cal.

"You will pay," the man growls instead of an answer.

Whatever the outcome will be. For a split second, Cal imagines the man shooting him and Gillian finding him – dead, his head a bloody mess. No. Cal has somehow accepted, at least on a theoretical basis, that his death might be a possible result of the threats. But Gillian being confronted with it in such a cruel way is nothing he will accept. Ever. So he has to avoid that scenario at all cost.

Before he can say anything else, though, his phone rings again.

"Accept the call," the man orders.

When Cal does so, a video appears on the display of his cell. It takes Cal a moment to realize that it is a live stream. The stream is a bit shaky but otherwise clear. It shows a living room he doesn't recognize until the camera changes perspective and he sees Gillian. Cal has never been in her apartment; that's why he didn't recognize it. Today would have been the first time. It is a nicely done up living room. Save that he won't be able to forget the circumstances in which he had a first look at it. Gillian opens and closes drawers, checks narrow gaps of the couch, apparently searching for her day planner and completely oblivious of the fact that every move is being recorded. Just when Cal wonders where the camera is hidden, it moves and changes perspective again, now showing Gillian and a man standing behind her. The man obviously put his phone that is streaming the video down but chose an angle that captures both of them. Cal's body tenses up, his instinct screaming at him to jump up and run inside to help her. Something he can't do without risking that he will get shot. Then he hears Gillian talk to the man as if they were in the middle of a conversation.

"I can't believe I misplaced it," she explains, continuing her search. "Anyway, nice of you to stop by. I'm sorry I'm in such a hurry."

"Don't worry," the man says, his tone of voice casual as if this was a conversation between acquaintances. "As I said, I'm on my way to work, too. Just wanted to check on you since there wasn't time for that when we met last." He turns around so that Cal is eventually able to see his face. He recognizes him instantly. Cal doesn't know his name, but it is the man who helped Gillian and him get out of prison.

His thoughts are racing. That man is supposed to be one of the good guys. Well, perhaps not a good guy in the classical sense but still. The fact that he is here, cooperating with the man who threatens his life, allows only one logical conclusion.

Sean chuckles, satisfied that Cal is speechless with terror. Eli Loker is a freelancer. He doesn't work for people; he works for money. It is a first, though, that he accepted an offer that means going up against the hand that usually feeds him. In the end, it wasn't Sean who convinced him but the contacts he brought along. They will pay off sometime in the future. Therefore Loker decided to take the risk. If everything goes as planned, he doesn't have to worry about losing his old contacts. Lightman will have no chance to kiss and tell; he is not supposed to survive this.

"He took her day planner out of her bag and hid it when she got ready to visit you on Saturday," Sean explains. Cal cringes. It means that the man was in Gillian's apartment before when she was alone. Except she didn't know he was there that time. It also means that what happens right now was planned beforehand.

They wanted Gillian to come back here. A set-up. They couldn't anticipate that he would accompany her; that was kind of a bonus. Most likely they originally intended to just send him the stream and the conversation they are having in person now would have been a conversation over the phone. Gillian knows the man who is with her right now. She probably doesn't trust him, but she doesn't distrust him enough to shout for help. And conveniently, the man could just walk in her apartment because he had been stupid enough to tell her to leave the door open (however he managed to sneak past him, perhaps he had been hiding in her apartment, waiting for her, and just told her he came in through the open door). It doesn't make all the difference though. If Cal hadn't accompanied her, the man simply would have knocked and Gillian would have let him in. After all, he is the man who saved their lives. From where Gillian is standing, she can't see the car or Cal. There is no way he can motion to her to warn her.

Cal sees the hate on the face of the man who holds a gun to the back of his neck; his wish to kill him is obvious, but the situation hasn't escalated. He won't kill me today. Cal realizes. If the man gets his way, he will die. But not today. It doesn't make sense to go through so much trouble and then simply pull the trigger. This is about revenge. This is about making Cal suffer before he dies. Confronting him with his weakness, showing him how easily they can hurt him by hurting her – this is what today is about. The queen. Gillian was right. This is about a woman. An eye for an eye. The awareness that he lived in fool's paradise, believing only his life was in danger and that Gillian was safe, sickens Cal.

And he realizes another thing. Choosing the man who saved their lives to subtly threaten Gillian is a statement. If they have him on their side, Cal can trust no one. They must have observed him much more closely than he assumed. They not only know about their relationship and gathered their personal data; they also know that Gillian planned to spend the weekend at his place and that he didn't already report the threat. Most likely their phones are tapped.

"If this is an effort to threaten me by threatening her, it won't work," Cal lies. "She's just a fling, means nothing to me."

"Yeah," Sean nods thoughtfully. "Maybe. Why don't we find out." He speaks on the phone. "Clearance. You can have your way with her. Make her wear some of the sexy lingerie you saw her pack on Saturday."

The man inside wouldn't be able to hear the man who is with Cal over the phone because he put it down; he must have an in-ear headphone. Cal watches him tilt his head back when he hears the words, smirking to show off for the camera, his boyish features suddenly turning into something else, something dangerous and ugly. The moment Gillian turns around and looks at him, though, he slips into his usual role again. The friendly boy next door.

It's a test. Cal tries to calm himself. They just probe whether you have feelings for her or not. But he has feelings for her and the minutes he keeps staring at the video stream of Gillian talking and smiling at a man who intends to do her harm are seemingly endless. That's what burning in hell must feel like.

"Let's force the pace." Cal hears the man behind him say. "Skip the fun, make some scratches."

Right on cue, Gillian turns around again, away from the man. No, no, no. Cal's pulse quickens. Then he sees a silver flash. A knife. The man has a knife. And he is going to use it.

"Take a last look at her pretty face," Sean mocks Cal.

"Stop." Cal doesn't recognize his own voice. It shouldn't be so steady, considering what he is feeling inside. He wants to grab the man behind him and beat the shit out of him. Here and now, he doesn't care about the gun that is pressed against his skin, doesn't even remember that it's there. All he is able to feel is a blind rage consuming him. On a rational level, he knows that he has just subscribed his death sentence. You can only survive in a situation like this when you have nothing to lose, when there is nothing your enemy can use as a bargaining chip. But now they know that they can use Gillian. And they will use her to get what they want. Already do. Revenge. Suffering. And finally – death. There was no other option though. Judging by the micro expressions Cal was able to detect, the first order, that the man could have his way with Gillian, was, indeed, a test. But the second wasn't. They would have scarred her for life just to prove a point.

"Stop," the man repeats Cal's entreaty that, coming out of his mouth, has turned into an order.

No more words are needed. The parameters are clear. Cal isn't allowed to call this in. Otherwise, Gillian will get hurt. Plain and simple.

The man gets out of the car and is out of sight just as the other man leaves the house, followed by Gillian who obviously found her day planner. Cal clenches his fists as the man greets him friendly in passing. If he ever will have the opportunity to lay his hands on him, he can't guarantee anything.

Gillian gets into the car. "Missed you," she says, trying to brighten the mood again as she did on the weekend. "Did you see the man who just came out? I was surprised that you didn't attack him the way you keep watching over me." She darts a coy glance at him before she gets serious. "Did you recognize him? It was the man who had helped us get out of prison. He stopped by to check on me. It was nice but also weird. Something about him is just... off. Actually, I was glad when he left."

She is not only an expert in reading voices but apparently also in human nature, her instincts rightfully setting off an alarm, even if Cal can't tell her that since it would imply revealing the truth. Gillian's expression is thoughtful. Then she rejects whatever she was pondering on with a shrug, opening up her beloved day planner to look something up. Cal mumbles a few unintelligible words in response and takes the opportunity that Gillian is distracted to start the engine and occupy himself with driving so that he doesn't have to give her a real answer. Gillian keeps checking her day planner. However, shortly afterwards her hand feels for his, intertwining their fingers again. It turns driving into a challenge. Yet, Cal doesn't let go of her hand for the rest of the way.

He is relieved that she doesn't want to talk although it doesn't make what comes up any easier, only delays the inevitable. Somehow, he has to find a way to lie to her without her noticing it. Cal has no idea how in the world he is supposed to do that. By now, it has become some kind of game between them. Sometimes he deliberately lies to her so that she can call him out on it. And she does it every time. It was fun until it has become a necessity to keep her out of it, to hide that he just upped the risk of getting himself killed to safe her.

- To be continued -

One more chapter to go and then the story will have caught up with the beginning (the explosion).

At least that's the plan. Let's see if Cal cooperates.