by Lauren Dane
She used to be fearless and in charge. Rachel would never be the same, but she could be her own kind of badass. And was. It gave her control.
It had been a long time coming and Maybe needed to let her sister speak and act for herself unless it appeared she needed the backup.
“This is all your fault.” He turned to Maybe. “You and your little friends have encouraged this...this flighty bullshit. She’s good and you hate that. She’s talented and you resent that. She’s everything we ever wanted and you can’t stand it.” His tone had slipped, gone dark with a spiteful edge. He rarely let Rachel see this side of himself.
“That’s enough!” Rachel didn’t yell, but her quiet order sliced through the hum of tension enough to have their father snap his jaw shut.
He looked a lot like a turtle in that moment.
With that picture firmly in her head, she shoved the hurt and anger away. It didn’t matter.
“You’re right.” Maybe looked him square in the eyes. “She is good. At everything pretty much. I have encouraged her to follow her heart and her gut when it comes to what she wants at this stage in her life. Because she deserves to have the choice. If that makes me at fault in your eyes, I guess that’s how it has to be.”
She clenched her hands together under the table. Not allowing any of her anxiety to show.
Maybe didn’t need to refute his accusation that she hated her sister’s successes. She and Rachel knew the truth.
“You were an all-star at Quantico. You were and could still be on a track to a stellar career. You don’t have to go back to the BAU. I spoke with Gerry a few weeks back, he said they’d tuck you in elsewhere in CID. They can always use a brain like yours. That’s what he said.”
The BAU was where Rachel had worked with the team who took down serial killers. As a profiler, she regularly got into the heads and lives of some pretty disgusting humans.
“You just happened to bump into Assistant Director Gerry Cardenas at the grocery store?” Rachel’s eyes had gone as hard and flat as her tone.
Yeah, they were going to be out of there before pie. No doubt about it.
“Since your sister was encouraging you to turn your back on what you were meant to do, yes, I touch base with him from time to time.”
Maybe allowed an eye roll, which pushed his buttons.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!”
“You’re being ridiculous. It’s roll my eyes or laugh in your face. Why are you trying to start a fight all the time? Can’t you just be happy she’s here, even if you have to deal with me too? Back off. She’s asked you over and over. She’s telling you now. Let it go and enjoy Thanksgiving.” Maybe pointed to the table.
“You’ve never had any respect. Before you took over her life she had a career. She was engaged to be married. Now look at what two years in your presence has done to her. She’s a GD tattoo artist who has thrown away a fiancé, a beautiful town house and a career path that would have led her to a high-profile job with a pension. Because of you.” The fist he’d slammed on the table clenched so hard his knuckles had gone white.
It was the venom in the last sentence that brought the unwilling wince. The nausea at the gleam of pleasure on his features when he’d noted it brought beads of sweat to her upper lip.
He transported her back to a more vulnerable Maybe. One who’d finally had enough and ran as far as she could.
It was the humiliation that crawled through her belly, the jitters of fear of him that enabled Maybe to get herself under control once more.
Pale, Rachel stood, her chair scooting over the hardwood floor. “I don’t know how you two can handle the fact that you treat one of your kids this way on a routine basis. I’m here and alive because of Maybe. Maybe who has done nothing but see the good in me. She came here, knowing this could happen. And did so because she wanted me to have time with you two. You guys are the worst. Come on, Maybe, let’s get a pizza.”
Both their parents spoke at the same time in a mixture of more blame on Maybe, apologies for upsetting Rachel—no such claims for Maybe—and orders not to leave.
She began to walk away before she paused at the entrance to the living room, where Maybe put on her coat and grabbed their bags.
“Don’t call my old boss anymore. You aren’t friends and I’m not going back to the FBI. Even to ride a desk,” Rachel told them. “I’m not going to be taking calls from you and neither is Maybe. I need a few weeks and you guys need some time to figure out how to be better at parenting your youngest child.”
Their mother began to cry as their dad continued to yell as they beat a retreat to the car parked at the curb out front.
“Jesus on a pogo stick,” Rachel muttered as they drove away.
“Someone’s feeling awfully saucy today.” Maybe laughed, the sound edged by a repressed sob.
“Oh my God, don’t laugh. For so long you’ve dealt with that. Jesus.” Rachel scrubbed her hands over her face, smearing her eye makeup a little. “I’m sorry.” Rachel turned to face her. “I never should have gone over there today. I just had hoped if we gave in they’d back off on the constant bid to get me to move. It just kept getting worse. Has it always been this bad and I just only noticed the severity now? I keep telling myself I can’t have missed this much.”
“Since the hospital, things have been getting more and more tense. Today was as bad as he’s been since I left home the first time.”
Rachel slumped back into her seat with a sigh. “He feels threatened.”
“By me?” He was half a foot taller and had sixty or seventy pounds on her.
“No. Though that’s there too. But by my direction. If I’m doing ink, I’ve rejected what he stands for. He doesn’t understand my new world and my new life. To be honest, he didn’t understand my old life either. But he got the gun and the badge.”
“Now you’re like me.” And they sure didn’t like that.
Rachel snickered. “I’m still me. Just with a different direction than I’ve had before.”
Maybe heard the last bit, though Rachel hadn’t said it aloud. Her sister needed them to see her and accept her as she was now, not who she’d been before. But Maybe wasn’t so sure their parents ever could.
After they’d eaten their pizza back home, Rachel got up to get some work done. Before leaving the room, she cocked her head and took Maybe in. “I can’t let you get in between me and them anymore. I see it now more clearly than I ever have. Which I’m also sorry about. But you’ve taken more than enough crap from them on my behalf. No more. I mean it. I’ll handle them from now on. He doesn’t hate you. He’s afraid of you because you burn so bright. Aunt Robbie told me that once.”
Their aunt was their father’s only sister. She also had a kiln and a small studio in the backyard, where she painted and threw pots. That she also carried a badge like their grandfather, father and uncles did, was part of her complexity.
Neat. Tidy. Ruthlessly organized when it came to her job and her household, her art was messy and loud, like her opinions. Like the way she loved people. She and her husband had seen the parts of Maybe her father had hated, and her aunt had loved them instead.
* * *
THE QUIET OF the house after Rachel went to her room drove Maybe out to the back porch to sit in her coat and watch the clouds as they moved across the sky. It was dark enough that she saw them only as a clear spot opened for the moon to shine through and backlight them.
“I had a feeling you’d be back home by now,” Alexsei said as he took the steps to the porch to join her.
“We’ve been home for four hours. We weren’t even there long enough for pie.”
He gave her a very close look. “It was bad.”
“Pretty bad. They were on Rachel, on me. It was no fun. After though, we had pizza and beer and that was better.” Once she started to tell him, thinking it would
just be a few details, she didn’t stop until she got to the part where they’d driven off from their parents’ front curb.
“I would very much like to punch your father’s face. He is irresponsible to waste you.”
Heaven knew she shouldn’t react, it would only encourage him. But she couldn’t help it.
* * *
TURNING HER BODY into his, she snuggled in as he held her a little tighter, kissing the top of her head.
“Why do you go if they treat you so poorly?” It burned in his gut.
She pushed back to look at him as she spoke. “Because it’s what you do! Right? You had dinner with your mother even though she made pretty much everyone in your family feel bad, didn’t you?”
“She lives on another continent and was visiting mine,” he replied. “My mother has her flaws, as you know. But she’s not your parents. She’s overly critical. Obsessed with material things and position. She’s a product of her environment. But she loves me. She loves Cristian. She does what she can with what she has. Your father, he’s got two amazing daughters and to throw one away is outrageous. That he says these things—thinks them—is despicable.”
“There’s nothing else to do. It’s either go and keep trying or let go entirely,” she said, but he knew why she’d done it.
“But you can’t let go. Because of Rachel. You think she needs them so you take this abuse.”
“It’s not that simple,” she mumbled.
He snorted. “Nothing is simple, zajka. But some things are true. He’s careless and cruel when it comes to you. That makes me want to do violence to him.”
“I should be so embarrassed you want to beat someone up for me. But it’s nice. Don’t let that go to your head though.”
He pulled her close to him once more. So fragile and resilient. In those moments when she let herself be vulnerable, he saw to the heart of her. “It’s one of my charms.
“I don’t know Rachel as well as you do. Which might be why we see this differently. But I don’t think she’d want you hurt like this. She can see them without you.”
It wasn’t tenable that she continued to talk herself into letting them treat her this way because she thought it was best for someone else.
“They circle her like vultures,” she said. “If I’m not there who’ll defend her?”
“She’s entirely capable of defending herself. Did you always set yourself up as her protector?”
“No.” Maybe scoffed at the idea. “Before...before she was taken, she was a formidable character. I mean, she still is, don’t get me wrong. But she’s always been the type who took care of her own shit. She lived in Maryland so they didn’t harass her the way they do now. Plus she was doing exactly what they wanted her to do so they had no reason to pester her. Hell, they didn’t even bug her for grandkids. Not yet anyway.”
“So why do you insist on taking hits if she can handle that herself? I don’t understand why she’d allow it. She should protect you.”
Defensive, Maybe reared back. “She does! I told you, she’s the one who got up to leave when it was clear they weren’t going to stop. She’s the one who spoke up first to tell them to leave me alone.”
“But she went over there, just like you did, knowing they might be awful. To you. I can’t agree with that choice. Not as a big brother.”
“She needs them.”
Alexsei stopped frowning for a moment and then sighed.
“I just want to be there for her. I know I’m fucking it up. And I hate them so much sometimes. But she was the golden girl, you know? The dutiful daughter who called to check in once a week. She had a great job, one my dad had secretly always wanted himself. They were so proud of her and everything she represented. They cheered her on.” Maybe held a hand up to keep him from speaking. “She had that support system. Relied on it in ways she doesn’t allow herself to think about too much. I can’t just walk away and leave her at their mercy. I just can’t. She needs them,” Maybe repeated. “She needs me to be stable and reliable.”
“What about your needs, eh?” He hadn’t blurted it all sharp and hard. This time he’d gone tender and sweet because she needed that. And because she was stable and reliable and it broke his heart that she doubted it.
“I have my aunt and uncle. Rachel is close with them, but it’s not the same. I have someone I can go to now. How can I begrudge her for needing the same?”
He growled. “Why at your expense? They’re not the only ones who love her. And there are those who do so without abusing you.”
She took his cheeks in her hands, trying not to tear up, and that made him love her so much it nearly hurt. “I’m okay.”
“You’re precious and I don’t like it when people act otherwise.”
“Thank you,” she said before kissing him.
“What are you doing over here anyway? I thought the whole family was with some third cousins in Kirkland all day.”
She needed to talk about something else and he let her. Sort of. “Forty-two people showed up. It was loud with a great deal of food. I escaped an hour or so ago. I came here because I was worried and I wanted to see you.” He’d hoped for a better outcome, but had been concerned this would be what he found when he arrived so he’d made his excuses and came to her. “Next time, if you insist on this foolish plan to continue to be with them on the holidays, I will come too.”
“I’ll give you forty-eight hours to back out on that promise. You’re only making it in the heat of the moment.”
He growled again, hauling her into his lap. “I know what I’m saying. If you go to protect Rachel, I will go to protect you.”
“Well, I don’t think I’ll be hearing from them any time soon, much less get an invite to dinner.” She paused there and said very softly, “It’s nice knowing you would go just the same.”
“I will come for you,” he repeated, pulling her closer.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“THIS IS GOING to get you so sexed up,” Maybe whispered to him as they followed the Underground Tour guide down the steps into the actual underground part of the tour.
He’d learned some things about Pioneer Square and the days when The Bootleggers’ Building—where Whiskey Sharp was—hosted all manner of rogues and rumrunners. Their tour guide was full of interesting facts and had a good way with the group.
But what Alexsei liked the most—aside from the whispered promise of sex—was the way Maybe’s face lit at all the—in her words—glorious cheese of touristy goodness.
She was so fierce and serious but this side of her delighted him. Whimsical. Overjoyed by the simplest of things.
“What sort of meal shall we have after this to complete our touristy date?” he asked, mainly so he could brush his lips against her temple and be rewarded with her shiver.
“When it comes to food, I keep my touristy stuff to ice cream and the like. But how about Salty’s? Quintessentially Seattle and the views and food are awesome.”
“I’ve never been.”
She cast a look over her shoulder at him and snuck a quick kiss. “Boy oh boy, stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you all sorts of new things.”
“It’s definitely part of your appeal,” he said, watching the way she moved.
He listened to the tour guide, snuck glances at Maybe’s boobs and let her take all the selfies she wanted, even making faces a few times because he’d become addicted to the sound of her laughter.
By the time they climbed back into the watery daylight and up to street level, he was ready for a late lunch and a beer.
And the want of her, always simmering in his belly, had come to a full boil. After food there would most definitely be fucking.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m too hungry to wait for the drive over to West Seattle. Let’s get something near Whiskey Sharp.” She danced around him as she said this in a sings
ong voice.
If she only knew all she had to do was ask and he’d give her anything.
“I’m staying at Gregori and Wren’s place until they get back from a month-long trip. We’ll order takeout and drink his champagne. He always has some.”
His cousin Gregori was now a US citizen and a big-deal artist with the kind of success that came along as rarely as his kind of talent. He lived in a huge loft in the residential space just above Whiskey Sharp with his girlfriend, also an artist.
“You sure he’d be okay with me in his place? Drinking his booze?” Maybe asked.
“What do you think we’re going to do up there?” He nearly purred it and delighted in her response. “I told him my price to house-sit was however much of his champagne I wanted. If you’ve got other things in mind, do tell.”
Maybe laughed as he tugged her along the sidewalk in his wake. “Depends on how much champagne I drink!”
Once inside the elevator to Gregori’s loft, Alexsei hit the stop button and turned his body and his attention her way. He took her face in his hands, holding her just so that he could kiss her long and slow. Tasting, knowing her desire built as his did.
She traced a finger between his skin and the waistband of his pants as she sucked his tongue, making him think about other things she sucked the same way. His cock seemed to throb in time until he groaned, pushing her back harder, pressing more of his weight against her, his cock to the notch between her leg, the friction slow as he stroked himself against her pussy.
Her breath caught in the back of her throat as he squeezed her breast and then she groaned when the call bell on the elevator dinged.
Soon enough, if the car didn’t resume its trip, a buzzer would sound and he didn’t want that.
He wrenched himself away, chose their floor once more and tried not to run down the hall, ripping clothes off once they’d gotten to the proper place.
Once inside, she went off to water the plants while he perused the ridiculous number of champagne bottles in the fridge.