by Margaret Kay
“Did he tell you about our breakup back then?”
“Some, but I’d like to hear about it from your perspective.”
She really didn’t want to talk about that with him, but maybe if she did, he’d understand why opening up to Gary now about how she felt was not possible for her. “Everything was great before his father died. I practically lived with him at his apartment that last year we were together. I sang at an open mic night the summer before and was invited to join a local band as lead female vocalist. Gary was so proud of me and supportive. He came to every gig, mostly local bars and fairs. I was in my junior year of college and doing okay, but my heart was no longer in it. All I wanted to do was to be on stage performing. The thought of sitting in class for another year depressed the hell out of me, especially because Gary wouldn’t be there.”
“Where would he be?” Lassiter asked.
“Gary was officially a senior. He took college classes during his senior year of high school and then through every summer session as well as attending the mortuary school, Mr. Overachiever. The thing was, I don’t think he ever really wanted to be a mortician and work at the family business. After his dad died, he changed. There was something bothering him he didn’t want to talk with me about.”
“What do you think it was?”
“I thought back then it was just that he didn’t want to work at the funeral home, but we never talked about it. That was about the same time Stan offered me the contract. I couldn’t talk to my parents. They were one hundred percent against me quitting school and moving to L.A. to pursue a career in music. But every time I tried to talk with Gary about it, he shut me down. I thought it would be the perfect solution, sign the contract and he and I would move out there together. But then he tells me he enlisted in the Navy and would be leaving for bootcamp. He made the decision without even talking with me, his fiancé. When I told him that I signed the contract and was moving to L.A., he accused me of the same thing. The conversation spiraled from there and I gave him his ring back. It wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to give a long-distance relationship a try, but things got out of control. I never felt so rejected in my life.”
“You felt let down by him, the one person you thought you could always count on,” Lassiter said.
“Yes. He wanted me to tear the contract up and be his Navy wife, waiting at port with all the other wives while he was out doing his thing, to hell with me pursuing my dream. There was no compromise, so we parted.”
“It sounds to me like you were both hurt by the other’s actions without realizing you each had acted the same way. You reacted in the moment and made decisions that would have been better left to sleep on and then discuss with clearer minds after you had the opportunity to consider each other’s perspectives.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe this is another of those things that are better left to sleep on and then discuss with clearer minds after you had the opportunity to consider each other’s perspectives, that’s if you’re not looking to add more regret to your thoughts regarding him? You can’t control what his answer will be, but sometimes, just speaking your feelings is freeing, regardless how someone else reacts to it.”
“He’s judging me, Dr. Lassiter. How can I tell him I’m still in love with him when he judges what my life has been for the last twelve years? You should have seen how angry he was when we talked just a little about how Stan coerced me into sleeping with him, and everything else.” She shook her head and frowned.
“I know Gary Sloan pretty well and judgmental is not a word that comes to mind when I think of him. Moreover, I’d think he was pissed that he wasn’t there to stop it, pissed that it happened to you, and pissed that that scumbag got away with it that long. But judging you for being a victim, no, that’s not what he would have been thinking.”
Kennedy rolled her lips and stared at the wall.
“You are a victim. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Kennedy shook her head. “I made bad choices. That first night Stan demanded sex I could have said no. I could have not let him sway me by his pressure of how much he’d done for me and was going to do, that I owed him or that this was how it worked. But I had nowhere to go, no one to call. I couldn’t go home, and Gary was already at bootcamp and we’d broken up. I was alone.”
“Stan preyed on you just as he did Kaliah and her mother. You were his victim. You said yourself he coerced you into agreeing to have sex with him out of obligation. That is what happens to a victim.”
Kennedy shrugged again. “I don’t know, I guess.”
“There were a lot of victims,” Lassiter said. “They’re already coming forward, you know. Have you seen any of the news coverage?”
This got her attention. “No, I took a nap after we got back.” A small satisfied smile curved her lips. “Has there been, really?”
Lassiter nodded. “It’s a freaking media circus out there. That fourteen-year-old girl you saved, and her mother are in federal protective custody, but at least two dozen other women have already come forward with allegations against all four of those men you dubbed the foul-four, and Stanley Angus too. Three women are actually alleging rape by Angus, not just coercion.”
“I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’m not.” She made eye contact with Joe Lassiter. “I know if I hadn’t agreed that night and any other, he would have forced me. That’s honestly one reason I did agree. I was so afraid of being raped. I didn’t want to be one of those girls.” She sighed loudly and stared away at the wall. “So, instead, I became a different girl.”
“I know one thing you are, and that’s a survivor. I’d like you to say that over and over in your head whenever you are feeling unsure. Remind yourself you were Kaliah’s hero, a victim, but also a survivor. The script we read to ourselves is powerful.”
She nodded.
Lassiter could tell she hit her wall. She was done talking and processing things for the day. “I’m here whenever you want to talk again.” He went over feelings, fears, and thoughts that should be red flags to her before he ended the meeting. “Even if you are away with the Marshals and any of those pop up, make sure someone gets in touch with me. We can talk over the phone.”
She forced a smile as she came to her feet. “Thank you, Dr. Lassiter. I appreciate your time and wanting to help me.”
“Please consider telling Gary how you feel about him. For your own mental health.”
She shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe.”
When Lassiter opened the door into the outer waiting room, both Gary and Brian were there. She forced a smile at them, when inside she wanted to cry or curl up into a ball and just go to sleep. She didn’t know how she could feel this exhausted, but she did. She had to laugh to herself. Feeling exhausted was one of the symptoms Dr Lassiter had just quoted as a sign of PTSD.
“Everything good?” Sloan asked.
“Yes,” Kennedy said, a bit too quickly to be believed.
He knew how shattering it could be to talk with Lassiter if real progress was made, so he didn’t ask anything more. He would later when they snuggled in bed. He would encourage her to keep talking with Lassiter. He knew she had to be carrying some heavy-duty issues around with her. “Meredith, the hairstylist I told you about is waiting for us. Are you ready to see what the new you looks like?”
Kennedy laughed. “It could be fun to become someone different.” She glanced back at Joe Lassiter. “Like an adventure.”
Joe smiled and nodded.
“Meredith, we need to cut and color Kennedy’s hair. We don’t want her own mother to be able to recognize her when you’re done. What do you think will look good?”
Meredith looked Kennedy’s thick head of hair over carefully. She took her fair coloring into consideration. “I think we bring it a shade darker brown than your natural hair color and then add in a rich auburn cast to it.”
“Blond is my natural color,” Kennedy argued.
Sherman laughed o
ut loud. “Momma, ain’t nobody gonna believe that. Even I can see your dark roots.”
“I was blond until junior high,” Kennedy admitted. “Then it started getting darker.”
Sloan remembered the cute little blond girl in pigtails from grade school that he used to chase around the playground. He realized that he was enamored with her way back then. That feeling hadn’t lessened in all these years, and it hadn’t now in spite of learning what her life had been like for the last decade. No matter how much he wanted to hate her for what she’d done in pursuit of a music career, he couldn’t. He knew right then that he was still in love with her.
“And you have thick wavy hair. I think a shorter cut with bangs and a lot of layers would look cute and completely opposite of how you wear it. That should do the trick,” Meredith said.
“Sure, let’s do it,” Kennedy said. “If I hate it, it will grow eventually.”
Meredith patted her shoulders. “Good attitude to have.”
Kennedy watched in the mirror as Meredith cut section after section of hair. She watched her long tresses tumble to the floor. The long bangs she created were the most dramatic difference. Kennedy hadn’t worn bangs since elementary school.
“There, after we color it and as we style it, I will make tweaks to the cut.” She tousled the hair while Kennedy watched in the mirror. The longest length just tapped her shoulder, barely. All around her face were choppy layers.
Meredith mixed the color and applied it while chatting with the guys. Kennedy noticed how comfortable she was with them. As overgrown as both men’s hair was, she wasn’t sure how often they visited a stylist. “Do you guys get your hair cut by Meredith too?” Kennedy asked during a lull in their conversation.
“Yes, I do all the agency personnel’s hair, even their wives.”
“Are either of you going to get a trim when she’s done with me?” Kennedy asked, her eyes on Gary and Brian.
They both chuckled. Sloan ran his hand through his hair. Yes, it was pretty long. “No, we’re required to keep it longer for the job, so we blend in and don’t look like military, especially when we’re overseas,”
“Same with the facial hair. It helps to blend in, especially in the Middle East,” Brian added while fingering the scruffy beard on his face.
“Do you go there often?” Kennedy asked.
Gary and Brian exchanged glances. “Often enough,” Gary replied in a tone that set Kennedy’s nerves on edge. The Middle East was still a very dangerous place. Even though she’d spent a relatively short time with these men, the thought that they routinely put themselves in danger bothered her.
During the long wait while the color did its thing, the conversation continued easily. Gary made her a cup of tea, but otherwise, neither he nor Brian left the room. Kennedy learned three things during that time. One, Meredith was a total sweetheart who obviously knew what these people did, but she never asked any questions that would be intrusive, not even why Kennedy needed an appearance change. Two, Meredith was trusted by Shepherd and everyone at the agency. Three, Meredith was Angel’s aunt. Her daughter had moved to the Chicago area and Meredith followed to be near both the girls and their babies. Her daughter worked full time and had her daughter in daycare. Meredith only watched the girl when she was sick. She gladly helped Angel quite a bit more with Sammy.
After the color was rinsed, Meredith gave it the once over while it was wet. She snipped a few more sections of hair. Then she turned the chair so Kennedy could not see the mirror. She blow-dried it, shaping parts with a brush. When she was done, she smoothed in a drop of Argon oil on the ends of the locks and used hairspray to push up a few sections near the scalp to build height. Then she gave the hair a short burst of the hairspray over all of it.
“What do you think?” Meredith asked when she was done, turning Kennedy to view the new her.
“Wow,” Kennedy said gazing into the reflection of the stranger in the mirror. “I don’t even recognize me. No one else will either.”
Meredith chuckled. “Honey, there has to be a redhead or two in your family tree. Your fair coloring is the perfect match to dark red hair. If you need to alter your appearance more, I’d suggest green contacts.”
“Thank you, Meredith,” Sloan said. “As always, great job.”
“How much do I owe you?” Kennedy asked, not that she had any cash on her.
Meredith waved her off. “Shepherd picks up the tab for all work associated with the agency.”
Oscar
From Meredith’s hair salon, Sloan brought her up to eight. Garcia waited to take her new ID photos. A valid Illinois Driver’s License would be issued as well as an official passport.
“So, I’ll be staying in Illinois?” She asked.
“Not sure where the Marshals will put you, but even if it’s out of state, you have to have some kind of driver’s license to start. It doesn’t matter much where it’s from,” Garcia said. “This is just easier.”
After he took one photo, he had her change her shirt for the other so it wouldn’t look suspicious to be wearing the same shirt in both photos. The issue dates for the IDs would be different too.
“So, the Marshals will let you keep your first name, but they will issue some random last name to you,” Garcia said.
She shook her head. “Can I change my first name? I don’t want to be Kennedy any longer. How about Kaylee, the first letter of my first name and my middle named combined?”
“I can make the request,” Garcia said. “I don’t think it will matter much to the Marshals. As far as I know, they haven’t started to build your new identity yet.”
Kennedy nodded. She felt very insecure about the coming move into the Marshals custody. She’d never say it aloud, but she knew she didn’t want to be parted from Gary.
“Thanks, man,” Sloan said to Garcia. “Let’s go, Kennedy, or should I start calling you Kaylee now?”
“I really gave my name a lot of thought. Do you think you’ll be able to call me Kaylee?”
“It won’t matter after tomorrow,” Sloan said as he stepped back into the hallway.
She followed. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll be with the Marshals after tomorrow.”
“But won’t we still be in contact? Talk on the phone?”
Sloan stared straight ahead at the door to the stairwell that they were approaching. “Once you are with the Marshals, you cut contact with everyone from your past, Ken, Kaylee.”
“Certainly, that doesn’t apply to you?”
Sloan pressed his hand to the scan pad and entered his code. He pushed the door open and waved her in. She remained where she was, her eyes locked onto his with a demanding stare. He glanced over her hair. Damn, she looked beautiful as a brunette. “We won’t be able to be in contact.”
“You’re safe and your phone is secure. No one will ever know it’s me. I can’t do this without being able to talk with you or see you once in a while.”
Sloan shook his head.
“What if I make it one of my conditions?”
“Step into the stairwell. An alarm will go off if this door remains open much longer.”
She took several steps in. He followed and closed the door. She stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest.
Sloan embraced her and pulled her in close. He knew he could stay in touch with her, hell, he could arrange for her new identity to be here, with him. She was so adamant that she wanted a fresh start though. He didn’t know for sure if she meant away from everyone and he certainly didn’t want to ask her and have her reject him a second time.
As he released her from his tight embrace, he gazed over her features. She looked beautiful as a brunette. Her hair looked sassy and sexy with the short cut and color Meredith gave her. He saw vulnerability in her return gaze. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips gently met hers. He wasn’t sure which of them initiated the kiss, all he knew was that it felt good, it felt right.
Kennedy melted into Gar
y. The sensation of his kiss was from a new lover, yet familiar at the same time. She held onto him with trust and longing, two feelings that were foreign to her. Desire flared inside her, causing feelings, reactions, needs she hadn’t felt in a really long time.
Sloan enjoyed the depth of the kiss, the sensation of Kennedy’s body against him. His phone vibrating in his pocket broke the moment. He broke from the kiss and viewed the screen. A message from Mother. You may want to take that to the apartment on nine.
His gaze went to the camera in the corner of the stairwell. Son of a bitch! Ops was tuned in. He debated whether to flip the camera off, thereby flipping Mother off, or to thank him. He opted to instead shove his phone back into his pocket, take Kennedy by the hand, and he then led her up the stairs.