Part 44
Indigo glanced at Michael as they sat across from each other at the club; he wasn't sure how to start a conversation with the brooding man. Michael had been laughing as he jumped into the car at the end of the driveway and he had acted like he had just pulled off the prank of the century during the ride into the city. But before the first hour had passed his mood had turned pensive and he was showing a marked lack of interest in the sea of beautiful women available for the taking.
He finally decided that if the man wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him he would have to be the one to bring it up. Instead, Indigo turned his attention to the Asian stripper who had been watching him from the stage for quite a while now.
Michael stared across the room, his gaze going right through the nearly-naked, gyrating bodies of some of the city's best looking women. His thoughts were on a completely different woman, sitting alone in a house on the outskirts of the city, pissed off at him and probably still devising a plan to get back at him for his earlier trick. He didn't really understand why it bothered him that she was angry with him, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
He glanced down at his lap and he wondered when he had stopped being concerned about his lack of excitement around the opposite sex. His dick had lost interest in any woman that wasn't Maria and for some reason he wasn't as upset as he thought he should be about that. All he had to do was be in the same vicinity as her and his body reacted like it hadn't been around a woman in years; but here, surrounded by women that would gladly have sex with him there wasn't the slightest hint of interest stirring below his belt.
He glanced up when Indigo nudged his arm and pulled him from his thoughts. "What's up?"
"I'm outta here." He nodded at the Asian woman who was motioning for him to make his way backstage. "Looks like I found my entertainment for the evening." He tossed his car keys on the table in front of Michael. "Take the car and I'll find my way home in the mornin'."
Michael shook his head. "Three women aren't enough for you?"
Indigo's grin slipped at the serious question. "I'm not married to 'em, Guerin. They understand the arrangement and they're good with it." He frowned, wondering if the man had any idea what he was saying. "You guys need to be back in L.A. at any certain time tomorrow?"
"No later than mid-afternoon so Maria'll have a couple hours to unwind and relax a little bit before she's gotta head in to start her shift."
Indigo nodded. Did Guerin have any idea just how telling that answer was? "I'll make sure I'm home by noon at the latest then."
Michael nodded absently and turned back to his musings. He hung around at the club for several more hours, turning down a few offers from women that he barely even looked at before he finally just gave up and left.
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Michael drove around for a while after leaving the club; he had no specific destination in mind, he was just trying to make sense of what was happening to the life that had been so carefully ordered up until Maria's appearance in his life. Since the moment she had entered his life, literally knocking him off of his feet and shattering his perfectly ordered and maintained existence, he had been struggling to hold onto some semblance of control.
Control. He snorted at that. There was no such thing where that crazy Maria girl was concerned, it was nothing more than an illusion and she had done her level best to make him realize that. It wasn't an easy thing for someone like him to acknowledge or accept. He was a man who liked control in every aspect of his life; he knew that was most likely linked to his childhood and he was sure if he had opened up to the Company shrink the one time they had forced him to go see her, she would've had a field day with him.
Yeah, like he ever would've told that uptight woman anything about himself, he thought as he pulled over on the side of the road on a deserted stretch of highway and got out of the car. He had gotten out of that one with an active duty release after the single session. Not because she really thought that he was free of the anger issues he had been accused of having though; no, his release had been signed because she had been a completely different woman after an hour-long session with him. He smirked at the memory. He'd bet his entire savings account that she had never looked at her couch the same way after that session.
The smirk slowly faded when he realized that the feeling of smug satisfaction that had always accompanied that memory wasn't there. He sighed as he sat on the trunk of the car, booted feet hooked on the bumper so he could prop his elbows on his knees. He dropped his head forward and rubbed the back of his neck before running his hands through his hair. When had his past sexual conquests become nothing more than just memories? Shit, why didn't it bother him that he wasn't sexually interested in other women? That should bother him, right? He hadn't had a single sexual encounter or one-night stand in months and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a physical reaction to any woman who wasn't Maria.
He hadn't even gone out with the intention of getting laid in quite a while. He had been in Cairo for nearly a month and a half with no one around to stop him from seeking an evening with a beautiful woman and he hadn't once felt inclined to do so. To be completely honest he had only gone out tonight because Maria had pissed him off and made him jealous of a dead man.
He shifted uncomfortably and leaned back, palms flat against the cold trunk as he stared up at the sky. The only reason he was even wearing a pair of jeans that were so tight his dick would probably never forgive him was because he had wanted her to be jealous and pissed off too. He was pretty sure he had succeeded on both counts but it would've been a helluva lot better if she had refused to let him go by dragging him into her bed and putting an end to the sexual tension and frustration for both of them.
He had never really given much thought to things like fate, but as his gaze slid across the millions of stars scattered across the dark sky he realized his mind was going in that direction. What if fate really existed? His entire body suddenly tensed up and his eyes widened in shock. What if Maria was his fate? Was there some higher power above that had created this particular girl for him?
He didn't doubt her claims that his double had loved her, that he had fallen so hard for her that it had changed his whole life. It had taken him a long time to get to a place where he could accept that the kind of love she described actually existed, but she had finally convinced him. She didn't know that, of course, and if anyone ever accused him of believing it he'd deny it to their face.
What really scared him - and he could count the things that scared him on one hand and still have fingers left unaccounted for - was that he was falling for that crazy, infuriating, sexy, annoying Maria girl. He could feel it and it terrified him. He had never believed that things like happiness or love existed; they were just as elusive as the mysterious Loch Ness Monster. Sure, everyone knew about it, but seriously, who really believed it existed?
Had the Granolith sent her to his universe knowing that her double had perished years before? It didn't explain how she had found him that day in Santa Fe; she had been following a feeling, some sort of instinct that had led her to him. "Holy fuck," he muttered. It was just like that feeling that had led him to her that night in the park.
What if that had always been the plan devised by some higher power? Maybe it wasn't possible for either of them to be whole without the other. What if the bond, or connection, between them was so strong that it couldn't be denied? Maybe they would find their way to each other in every universe despite the roadblocks that stood in their way. Hell, he thought, she had crossed space and time, and against all odds she had found him.
He turned his head to the side when the wind picked up for a few moments, tossing tiny grains of sand through the air. That was his cue to leave, he decided as he dropped down off of the trunk. He paused with one hand on the door as he looked up into the night sky once more, his mind turning over the possibilities.
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Maria was lying in bed staring at the ceiling and drumming her fingers on her stomach as she contemplated her revenge. Her initial anger had finally started to settle after a couple of hours and now she was seething with controlled rage. She had no idea how long she had been lying in the dark when she heard a car pull into the driveway.
She listened, teeth gritted in anticipation of some slutty woman's voice. The front door opened and closed with barely a sound and a few seconds later the hall light was switched on and a small wedge of light fell across her floor through the barely-open doorway. She heard the refrigerator door open and then the distinct sound of a bottle cap hitting the floor. She bit back a smile when she heard the muffled curse that followed, indicating that Michael had tossed it towards the trash can and missed. She felt giddy with the knowledge that he had come back alone and she had to force down the impulse to go and confront him just to see if the scent of some slutty woman's cheap perfume was clinging to him.
After a few minutes of indecision she shook her head and shifted around to get more comfortable. There was no reason to start another fight so soon after the one they had gotten into earlier. Her gaze shot to the door when she heard his footsteps in the hallway and after several moments of silence the door began to move inward and she quickly closed her eyes.
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Michael paused in the hallway outside of Maria's room and his fingertips rested against the doorframe as he listened for anything that would indicate she was still awake. He took a drink from the bottle in his left hand and shoved his hesitation away as he reached out and pushed the door open.
He remained silent as he entered the room and walked around the bed. He could see her body outlined beneath the covers and he wished she were facing the hall so he could see her face clearly. He sat on the edge of the bed, his right hip brushing against her knees where they were pulled up towards her chest and he studied her features in the near-darkness.
Her expression was completely opposite of the one she had been wearing when he had stormed out of the house earlier. When he had left hours ago she had been angry with him and her face had expressed that feeling to perfection. Now her features were relaxed and she looked peaceful as she slept, her breathing slow and even.
Actually, he thought, tipping his head to the left to stare at her, her breathing sounded a little too even. He frowned and leaned back for a moment before he reached out to place his hand on the bed near the edge, and he suddenly felt self-conscious as she remained still. Fuck! She was awake! Otherwise she would've… His brief moment of panic subsided when she suddenly shifted and one of her hands journeyed across the distance separating them to wrap around his hand.
That calm, peaceful feeling that always accompanied her touch in these moments settled over him and he relaxed once more. Without realizing it his thumb began to stroke over the flesh of her knuckles in a soothing pattern and after a few minutes he stood up and bent over to place her hand under the covers. He stood back and watched her for a little while longer before quietly leaving the room and pulling the door closed behind him.