by Jeremy Pack
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"Look, I know things got ugly between us last night, but this is a matter of life and death."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"If they find me, they'll kill me."
"I should hang up this phone. Why should I care whether you live or die?"
"I've never asked you for anything before. I need you now."
Bradley was silent for a moment. "How does it feel?"
"Are you going to help me or not?"
There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. "What do you need?"
"Two tickets to Vegas, any flight leaving here within the next couple of hours. I'm en route to the airport right now."
"Let me guess, one for you and another for your new fling."
"Can you do it or not?"
"This better not be some kind of fucking tête-à-tête." There was a sudden flurry of keyboard tapping in the background. "Lucky for you, I have a connection to the Sabre system at home. Here we are. I can get you two seats on an Alaska Airlines flight leaving in an hour and a half."
"That'll work."
"How are you going to pay for this?"
"You are."
"Now I know you're joking."
"Bradley, they may have a trace on my credit cards. I can't risk using them. I'll make sure Lisa compensates you first thing tomorrow."
"You owe me big-time for this," he said, tapping away. "Give me his information so I can book the reservation."
Jason relayed Chris's personal data to Bradley and flashed a thumbs-up sign when the booking was complete.
"I hope you're close to the airport. You know how the security lines can get. If you miss this flight, you're stuck until tomorrow."
"I'll make it." Jason took a deep breath. "This doesn't change anything. About us, I mean."
"I'm over it. I had to try, right?" There was a hint of vulnerability and resignation in Bradley's voice. "Listen, just...."
"What?"
"Take care of yourself, okay? I hate your guts, but they're too pretty to get messed up."
"You too."
Jason disconnected and glanced furtively at Chris, who was staring out the window into the distance. If he had any curiosity about the conversation, he wasn't letting it show. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, far away.
"Next stop, Vegas," Jason said, drawing Chris from his reverie. "I hope."
Chapter 8
THE security lines at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport were blessedly sparse. It seemed like very few travelers were interested in flying on a Wednesday night at ten o'clock, which suited Jason and Chris just fine. When they arrived at the departure gate, boarding was just beginning, and before they knew it, they were seated on the plane.
Only after they were underway and the lights of the city were far below and behind did Jason allow himself to relax.
There might be someone waiting for them on the other end in Las Vegas, but for right now, thirty thousand feet of empty air stood as an impassable barrier keeping them from harm.
He shifted to face Chris, who was staring out the window at the thick blanket of clouds that obscured the ground below.
"Still okay?" he asked.
Chris turned his eyes away from the oval window.
"You're awfully quiet," Jason probed.
"It's just a lot has happened in such a short span of time. I guess I'm a little shaken up," Chris replied. "It doesn't seem real. It's like something that's happening to someone else. I'm not equipped to deal with this kind of stuff. High action for me is missing a copy deadline and having to deal with my editor."
"It gets easier. You get used to it after a while."
Chris took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. "I don't think I want to. But if it means getting some answers, maybe getting my daughter back, it's a small price to pay."
Jason sensed that Chris needed a distraction to take his mind off the harrowing experience. He knew that on top of the horrors Chris had faced over the past year, the sudden scrape with danger was probably overwhelming. Though withdrawn, he seemed composed. Jason wondered if he would have been so steady if this were all happening to him.
"Tell me about your daughter," he urged, compelled by more than the diversion.
"Brianna?" Chris's face softened as his thoughts turned to his little girl. "What do you want to know?"
"Start at the beginning. I'm curious how someone like you has a baby."
"Someone like me?" Chris asked in mock offense. He chuckled.
"Certainly not the old-fashioned way," he said. "I actually just got lucky."
"How so?"
He flashed his wrists in Jason's direction. "This. It's a long story."
He self-consciously pulled his hands back and settled them into his lap.
"The alternative is thumbing through this shitty catalog full of overpriced garbage nobody needs."
Chris smiled and shrugged, then pursed his lips thoughtfully, his eyes staring off into the distance. "While I was institutionalized, I got close to this woman named Jeannie. She had a lot of issues---worse than mine. Misery loves company, you know. We'd both tried to kill ourselves. Suicide makes for some twisted small talk, let me tell you. It was pretty messed up.
"Anyway, we bonded. We helped each other through affirmation exercises. We were discharged around the same time and promised to stay in touch."
"And did you?"
"For a while. Then she stopped calling. I think I got one or two Christmas cards. She dropped off the face of the earth. Then, one day she showed up on my doorstep. She was very pregnant and very scared. The life she left behind when she went in caught back up to her, only she got mixed up with some pretty horrible people this time.
"Brianna was born about a month later. Jeannie put my name on the birth certificate and walked out of the hospital, leaving me with a baby. Me, of all people. You must think that's pretty strange. I mean, I don't exactly seem like daddy material."
"Actually, I wasn't thinking that at all. I know plenty of people who have kids that don't fit the picture. You're not one of them."
"Well, I'm no June Cleaver, that's for sure." He was silent for a moment. "I'm not the person I used to be, though. Oh, I have my issues, but being broken isn't one of them---at least not until---" His voice cracked, and he blinked back tears. Chris took a deep breath, fighting for control. "I was always a whole person for Brianna, you know. Somehow I pulled it together for her."
"Must have been a real shock. Did you ever picture yourself having kids?"
"In fact, it was one of my most cherished dreams. Biological, or something, I don't know... I was hardwired for it. It seemed impossible, though. Before Brianna came along, I thought that because of who I was, because of the choices I'd made, it was a dream I'd never realize. That, and my parents dying, is what nearly did me in. It just didn't seem like there was any reason to go on. My family was gone, and I'd probably never have one of my own. What was the point?"
"You turned it around."
"Only because I had help. George visited me twice, sometimes three times a week. It was his encouragement that pulled me through more than anything."
"George MacQuery has been a good friend to you, hasn't he?"
"More than you could ever know. My parents were devout Catholics, and we lived in a small town---Snohomish is sort of a bastion for conservative sensibilities. After they found out about who I was, they cut off all contact. George became my father's stand-in. He's been so good to me. Without him, I don't think I would have pulled through, even with therapy. Losing your parents is tough but something that you know is going to happen one day. Losing mine the way I did was much more difficult."
"How did they die?"
"It was an accident," Chris said sadly. "There were some mechanical issues with their car. It was just one of those freak things. It was weird because Dad was always very diligent about maintenance. Anyway, they went over a cliff on Stevens Pass. The roads wer
e icy, and... he must have lost control. They were never really able to piece it all together."
"You don't think it was foul play, do you?"
Chris's eyes widened in shock. "No, I don't think so. My father wasn't anyone important. He was a history professor. My mom was a housewife. Who would have wanted to kill them? And for what? They were simple people and didn't have much of anything---what little they did have, they gave to charity. After the estate was liquidated, I was just able to pay off their debts and make sure they had a nice funeral. All I really have left of them are some letters my dad wrote to me. I've never been able to bring myself to read them."
Jason leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. "Were there any legal complications after Jeannie left?"
"A few. George took care of everything. It's all a blur, really. Thing is, I imagined a million ways that I might one day have children, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would play out the way it did." He paused, closing his eyes as if remembering. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and filled with wonder. "You know something, though? When I took Brianna in my arms the first time...." He choked up again and swallowed hard. Tears returned to his eyes, and he continued, "When she wrapped her tiny, perfect hand around my finger... all of the sudden, I became a whole person. The emptiness was all filled up. I knew that I was holding onto something extraordinary."
The tears overflowed and dripped onto his cheeks. This time, he allowed them to come. "She was a part of me. Forget the fact that I didn't make her. I knew she belonged to me anyway. It's something you can't put into words---something that's as deep as your soul, like you finally know what it is you were put here to do. It's strange, I know...."
Jason reached out and brushed away a tear. There was an unaccustomed pressure in his own eyes as he became caught up in the intensity of Chris's feeling. "I don't think it's strange at all."
"After she was... taken from me, I didn't know how to make it from one day to the next. I was utterly destroyed. I'm really not sure what's kept me going all this time. Hope, I guess. George called it denial, but a part of me has always known she's still out there somewhere and that this was all just some terrible mistake."
"If she is alive, we'll get her back."
Chris lingered on the earnest promise, his eyes filled with gratitude.
"I... I believe you."
They remained fixed on each other as Jason's heart ached for Chris's loss. Chris's cheeks were damp from weeping, and his eyes shone brilliant emerald from the wash of his tears. Jason was awestruck.
There was great depth and sorrow in those eyes, but great strength too.
God, I wish I could hold him. I wish I could just take it all away.
As if sensing the direction of Jason's thoughts, Chris changed the subject. "Who were you talking to in the car? It sounded serious."
Jason waved his hand dismissively. "Bradley. There isn't much to say, really." He half smiled. "I didn't think you were paying attention."
"I was trying not to."
"We used to be a couple. I guess you'd call it that."
"But it's over?"
"A long time ago, at least from my perspective. He's having a more difficult time letting go."
"What went wrong?"
Jason was hesitant. He could have given a hundred reasons that weren't really the truth, but he couldn't bring himself to dissemble to Chris. "It's complicated."
"If you don't want to talk about it---"
Jason shook his head. "Under the circumstances, I suppose I owe you an explanation."
"You don't owe me anything."
Jason looked away. Why did it seem so difficult to admit his shortcomings to Chris? Why did he care so much about what he would think? "Our relationship was a farce from the beginning. This might be surprising, but I'm not the easiest person to get close to."
Chris chuckled. "Let me guess: the sensitivity issue?"
Jason smiled. "The thing is, I never had strong feelings for him, and when his needs started to seem like a burden, I acted out. It was strange how it happened. One day I tolerated him, and the next, I couldn't stand the sight of him. He really must have been confused." His jaw muscle twitched. "I still feel guilty about it, but what can I do? I strung him along up until then because I wanted companionship or something, and that was a rotten thing. I think the dishonesty is what I'm most ashamed of. You thought you had issues."
"Did you explain all of this to him?"
"A hundred times."
"And he refused to accept it?"
Jason nodded.
"Then it's his problem to work out. If you told him the truth and he won't take a hint, there's not much more you can do, right?"
"I wasn't entirely honest," Jason said hesitantly.
"What do you mean?"
He opened his mouth to speak but struggled with words. Once again, he was afraid of what Chris might think. "I tried and tried to push him away, hoping he'd just walk out, but he wouldn't give up. So I did something completely dishonest. Despicable, really."
"It couldn't be as bad as all that."
"I had an affair," Jason said. "And I told him that I was in love with the other person."
Jason stole a glance at Chris's face. He could see no recrimination in his expression. After a moment, Chris touched his hand and smiled softly, reassuringly. "It's not like you chopped him up and put him in the freezer. You were trying to get out. It's not so uncommon."
Jason turned to face Chris. He tucked a fisted hand between his cheek and the seat and pulled up one leg. "You make it sound like it was no big deal."
Chris chuckled softly. "Don't get me wrong. I believe in fidelity--- old-fashioned sensibilities, you know. It is a big deal. But that doesn't mean I don't understand why you did it." He looked away shyly, as if recalling some shame of his own. "I've been there too. I was getting tired of Michael's rules and nitpicking, near the end. I kept doing things I knew would annoy him. I think I was hoping he'd pick a fight with me that would end our relationship. You do all kinds of unthinkable things when you're feeling trapped."
"Why didn't you just leave?"
"I could ask you the same question." He considered briefly and then said, "I was probably afraid. I had Brianna to think about, and even though he wasn't much of a parent, he was a safety net."
Jason's jaw muscle contracted as his thoughts turned inward. "I don't know if I'm capable of real love. I've had plenty of relationships, but never anything meaningful. My mother is at wits' end over it."
Chris's brows drew together and he looked off into the distance.
"Love's a pretty elusive thing. I don't know if it really exists---at least not the fairy tale version you see in the movies or read about in books. I cared for Michael, but there were never any fireworks."
"Maybe," Jason said. "Maybe not. I think it's out there---just... it's out there for other people. You have to be lucky, or worthy, or... something else that I'm not. Maybe you and I are just good at avoiding it."
"Really?" Chris raised an eyebrow.
"We're afraid to be consumed, afraid of rejection, afraid of getting burned---all the usual reasons. Deep down we're just a couple of chickens." He made a clucking noise.
Chris laughed. "I'm having a hard time believing the insensitive Jason Kingsley could have just spoken those words."
"No teasing, I'm pouring my heart out here."
Chris looked down, and his cheeks colored. "I'm sorry. I really am." He looked back up, his eyes twinkling with humor. He squeezed Jason's hand in encouragement. "So you think that the reason we---you and I---have had such a hard time falling in love isn't that love is a sham, but that we've been avoiding it? Interesting."
"That's where I am, anyway. Maybe you too. I don't know. I think we're more alike than you realize."
Chris was quiet for a moment as he thought it through. "Maybe you're right. Although, I just don't think I have those needs. I've always been pretty independent."
"That's what I'
ve always told myself too. That I can manage without it," Jason agreed. "But don't you think there's something missing? Something more?"
Chris pulled his hand away. He visibly stiffened. "Oh, there is. If you ever have kids, you'll understand." He was sidestepping, and they both knew it.
"It's not the same," Jason argued.
Chris looked away. "It's enough for me."
Jason's hand closed back over his, drawing his attention. Chris turned back slowly. His eyes were wary.
Jason asked, "Are you sure?"
Instead of answering, Chris changed the subject again. "How's your head?" He extracted his hand and reached out to touch the tender spot on Jason's scalp. Jason winced but allowed the examination. Chris said, "Feels like the swelling is going down."
"The headache is mostly gone too, unless I turn my head too quickly."
"Don't turn your head, then."
They laughed.
Strange, Jason thought as he watched Chris lean back into the seat, how these intimate little moments seemed so natural, though they were only slightly more than perfect strangers.
"Thank you," Chris said softly.
Jason turned and smiled. "For what?"
"For giving me hope. Real hope."
"Thank me when you're not in danger anymore. You should really try to get some rest."
Chris yawned. "You're probably right," he mumbled. "I am pretty strung out."
Jason leaned back and squeezed his eyes tightly closed. He was on a freight train, careening down the tracks with no way to stop it or get off.
The more time he spent with Chris, the stronger his feelings grew. Soon, he knew, he would no longer be able to contain them, and he would plunge right over the edge of a cliff.
He couldn't let that happen. Not now, not so soon, not until this was finished. Chris needed him to be focused on the task of keeping them alive. Maybe there would be a time when he could disclose how he felt without holding back, but it wasn't now. The results could be disastrous.
Chris was like a frightened bird. If Jason moved too quickly, the possibility of any kind of a future would take wing and fly forever out of his reach.
The few tender moments they'd shared gave him hope that there was such a possibility, if only he nurtured it and acted with caution.