by Dale Mayer
"Then your mother and I broke up. She left and I tried to go out with other girls." He traced the wood grain in the tabletop. "I drank a lot. Experimented with anything and everything. I'm not proud of what I did, but I was hurting, and I did everything that would dull the pain and make me forget what I was." He took a deep breath. "And finally I realized I was lying to myself. I was never going to be normal. And my sexual orientation was never going to be 'normal' as per my father's standards."
He turned to look back at her. "When your mother arrived with you, the long and short of it is she came to me with a three-month-old baby and said that you were my responsibility."
"She walked out of your life and my life that day, and I knew I was no more equipped to raise you than she was. I was a mess," he admitted. "And my lifestyle was not safe for a baby."
He settled back in his chair to stare out the window moodily. He let out a broken laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Can you imagine? And my life back then...I was living in a house with four other party animals. There was booze and girls and guys and drugs everywhere." He turned to glance over at her. "I planned to get my life together, but it would take time and I knew here was the one place where you'd be safe. Where you'd have someone to love you. And where I could still be in your life. So here you are." He waved an arm around the room. "And the place still looks the same today as it did back then."
Tabitha had let him talk uninterrupted. She didn't know what to say or what to think. So much of her history needed to be rewritten. She had no problems with her father's sexuality. His explanation made sense and answered a lot of questions.
But not all of them. "Why didn't you take me home with you later when you started sorting your life out?" She tried to keep the hurt out, but a lifetime of holding it all in was hard and now that the dam was breaking, she needed to hear the answers.
"That was your grandfather. He said I was unfit to raise you and now that you were under his care, you'd stay here. I could visit, but I'd never again have custody." He traced a knot in the wooden table, his face twisting with old memories. "Unfortunately, my uncle, your grandfather's brother, was there at the time. He'd been a major part of our lives when I was growing up. But at that time, they were having some kind of major disagreement. Maybe he wouldn't have been such a hardass then if his brother wasn’t around all the time feeding him venom. The thing is, once your grandfather set down rules, he never would reverse them." He shrugged as if shaking off the memories. As if he didn't care.
And she'd bet he'd cared a lot back then.
She didn't want to think about the legalities involved. Her grandfather had been a very interesting person. She had no memories of his brother. As far as she knew, he'd died when she was little. Her grandfather hadn't always been easy to live with, but there'd been one thing she'd never doubted. He'd loved her.
Maybe he'd needed her as much as she'd needed him. And maybe he'd felt as guilty over his son as his son felt over his own daughter.
Her grandfather had often spoken of his life in the circus, but never of his life with his son or any extended family. She'd had no idea if her father traveled with him or stayed elsewhere. Or had he come along later? She dredged through her memory banks, trying to figure out what she knew about her grandmother, and realized she was coming up blank. Just bits and pieces from her grandfather's stories.
"You aren't saying much."
Startled, she pulled herself back to the conversation. And him. She studied the uncertainty in his gaze, the tension around his mouth. This had to be hard for him. And liberating. For that she was glad. But she could do so much more. "For the record...I don't have a problem with you being gay. I want you to be happy." She smiled tentatively. "I just want you to be in my life."
His gaze warmed as she spoke. He tilted his head. "You can't possibly think I don't love you?"
She snorted. "As much as you're capable of, maybe. But from my perspective, there hasn't been very much of your love thrown my way. If you'd told me this a long time ago, it would have been much easier for both of us." She sighed. "I could have told you a long time ago that it didn't matter to me. That I loved you as you were."
"I couldn't," he admitted softly. "That was a promise I was forced to give my father. To never tell you. To never poison you with my twisted, perverted lifestyle."
"Ouch," she murmured. "He was very strong in what he believed was right and wrong."
"His version of it."
"And is that why you are finally telling me? He's dead and gone and can't judge you anymore?"
"I no longer need his permission." He smiled. "But I made a promise to him and I couldn't break it while he lived."
"That had to have been difficult," she murmured.
"The hardest thing was he wouldn't let you stay with me when you were younger because you might be influenced by me and my ‘sordid’ lifestyle."
She shook her head, her heart sad. "He missed out on so much."
"And so did I." Her father's voice thickened suspiciously. "And I have to ask: Has this happened too late?"
There was sheen to his eyes and she felt the answering moisture in her own eyes. God, what he had been through. What she'd been through. Because of a judgmental old man who couldn't handle his own fears. She'd loved her grandpa and that would never change, but he'd done his son wrong. She strongly believed there was plenty of love to go around. It was so sad that these two strong men hadn't believed in themselves or in each other.
And it was well past time for this to be cleared up. And laid to rest.
There was an uprising of emotion. A welling of pain bubbling up and over...to dissipate under the gift of acceptance. An ache from an old wound she'd barely recognized, having lived with it so long...began to ease.
And a freedom she hadn’t recognized before as having been denied...opening.
She smiled. "Hello, Dad. Welcome to our new life together."
She reached out a hand.
He stood up, grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms.
She burrowed in close, reveling in such a simple thing she'd missed all her life – her father's hug.
***
Later that night Tabitha curled up in Ronin's arms. At Ronin's quiet insistence, her dad had left to get Grandfather's box. He had keys and when he returned would let himself back in, so they'd gone to bed.
To enjoy each other. She hoped. Her mind couldn't stop tossing and turning on her father's words. His life. Her life. How one thing had impacted so many? So not fair.
"You're thinking too loud," Ronin murmured. "Go to sleep. You need rest."
She turned her smile to his shoulder and kissed his hard muscled skin. "Not my fault," she murmured. "My mind's got a lot to work on."
Looking into his deep brown eyes, she shifted enough to let her hand glide down his hips and then up between their entwined legs. "But maybe I can think of something else."
Fire smoldered as he shifted restlessly under her touch. He slid his hand up her smooth long lean body, stopping to explore her ribs, before sliding higher to cup her breasts. Stoking the fire within, soothing, caring, promising. Finally he reached to tilt her chin up and lowered his mouth. He brushed her lips once, twice. Then followed with a deep melting kiss that left her wanting so much more.
He rolled onto his back, pulling her gently on top.
Smiling, she sat up, gently guided him into her. "Nice." She sighed. When she began to move, it was gentle. Easy. She loved that about Ronin, the big strong, take-charge cop had the ability to lie back and let her – take charge. It took a strong man to surrender. It took trust. And she hoped – love.
Needing more, he tugged her down for a long drugging kiss. She sighed, a low thrumming sound as pleasure slid through her. All thoughts left her mind. There were no more questions. No doubts. No insecurities. There was just now. Just him. Just them.
She surrendered to it. To him. To the moment. And let herself ride. Head back, eyes closed, she let the heat set the pace
. When need pulsed through her, demanding action, she leaned over and framed his face, wanting to see the dark depths of his eyes.
And found them full of love. Her system overloaded with joy.
She cried out, arching her back.
His hands clenched her hips, holding her in place as he drove up inside her…once, twice. He twisted beneath her and shuddered with his own release.
God she loved that. Knowing she'd brought him this, that she accepted what he'd so freely offered… She leaned over and kissed him gently, before sliding down to lie beside him.
"So good," he murmured, lazy satisfaction in his voice. He tugged her up against him, his fingers drawing slow circles on her shoulders.
"Mmmm." She nuzzled his shoulder, happy and calm for the first time in… Since…? She had no idea since when.
Peaceful silence stretched between them. She yawned sleepily. Tired, but not tired enough to sleep, she wanted to enjoy the moment. The closeness.
"That was a good thing you did tonight," he said quietly, "for your father.
What? For a moment there, she'd wondered what he was talking about. She twisted her head so she could see his face. "I didn't do anything."
"And that makes it even more special."
She stared up at him, puzzled.
"Your acceptance. Not many people would have given it so quickly or so easily."
She smiled and nestled closer. "It was awkward but it explains so much. I truly am happy for him. To live one life but desperately want another for yourself... That would be hard."
"Sounds like his early life was tough."
"His teen years," she correctly gently. "As a child, he'd have been fine. My grandfather loved him. It would have started once he understood he was different."
His heart beat a steady tempo under her ear, his body heat was warm and cozy. She yawned. "I desperately need a good night's sleep."
"Then sleep."
"I will, but..." She winced, knowing he'd have a hard time with this. "But I need to check on Trinity. Reinforce her energy so she stays calm."
He'd stiffened at her initial words, his arm tightening around her.
"Is that safe?"
"Yes," she answered honestly. "We have to find her. This connection I have with her… It could be very dangerous if she dies and I'm still in her heart line."
"Heart line?"
"A bond that could take me with her," she added softly.
"Then I'd better get back to work."
He started to rise.
She pushed him back. "You need rest too."
"I need to find this tiger. I have several leads, but nothing concrete."
"I'll go reinforce the tiger's energy. You get some sleep. Then I'll sleep and you work."
At that suggestion, he lay back down. She hoped he'd sleep – they both needed it, but she had things she had to do. She'd left it too long. The feeling came over her suddenly. That inner knowing that she'd cut her time short. Possibly too short.
Shuddering, she closed her eyes and opened her inner vision. She knew the pathway now. She jumped free and raced to Tango. He slept soundly. His energy rippled and shifted like quicksand, absorbing her into his own. The acceptance warmed her heart all the way to her soul. She grounded herself mentally and emotionally before returning to the energy highway that would lead back to her aging female tiger. Tabitha closed the gap faster and faster, and then slowed down as she reached Trinity. She dropped into the huge cat.
She sighed and stretched, feeling so feline and graceful inside. That she was truly one with a tiger was a wondrous thing. It produced a feeling like no other. She opened her eyes and smiled.
The tiger lay calm and peaceful in a corner of the cage. Her stomach gurgled loudly. "At least you've eaten, milady," Tabitha murmured gently, easing the energy to the meridian relating to the stomach region. The noises eased. The tiger stretched out with a contented sigh. Tabitha loved the feel of the power in the long legs, the big toes that stretched, then curled gently.
Such a different body. Such a different experience. Murmuring softly, she stroked and soothed, reinforced and calmed the tiger's meridians along with her aura. The tiger was doing so well.
In the background, she heard noises. There'd been something earlier, but it was low key so she hadn't recognized it. Now the noise level had risen. Men. Arguing.
And coming closer.
Tabitha poured out soothing energy for her sake as well as for the tiger's. She didn't recognize the voices. No. Wait. One of the men was Fez. So he was fine after all. Too bad. She'd have liked him to suffer for his part in this.
"I want to move her because of the change in plans. I didn't go to all this trouble to lose her at this stage." A cold chilling voice slipped through the air. Hushed but authoritative…
Tabitha knew she'd have no trouble recognizing it again. She tried to search through the darkness. Trinity's vision was excellent at night time, but the cover on the cage was absolute. Almost. She managed to coax Trinity to stand up and walk over to stare out between the slight parting of the covering. She could hear Fez talking. "Maybe beef up the security?"
"You are the security. Why would I add more than you and Keeper?"
"Because we can't always be together. Because they know we're here. And because I was attacked."
"You're the idiot who allowed someone to sneak up on you." The boss snorted. "Maybe you're the problem."
Silence.
Tabitha grinned to herself. A falling out among thieves.
"If you'd seen your attacker, at least we'd have some idea of who was after her. The question is why?" This last bit was added thoughtfully.
Tabitha watched as Fez walked into view. He winced involuntarily with every step he took. It was obvious he needed to lie down. Or go see a doctor, at least. His head was covered in dried blood.
"You're thinking the buyer might have been checking her out on his own?" Fez shrugged. "Why? Because he probably didn't believe your story."
There was an uncomfortable emptiness in the air. Tabitha could only hope these two would do or say something that would help her out.
"No one," the boss said in a silky voice – a spider to a fly, "is going to screw this up."
Tabitha held her breath. Now that man scared the crap out of her.
"No one will," Fez stepped into her line of vision again. He was holding his head. "I don't feel good."
"A bashing over the head will do that." As if making a sudden decision, the boss said, "Stay here."
Clip. Clip. Clip. "I'll be back in a few minutes." And a door shut. Quietly. Too quietly.
Tabitha wondered if Fez knew his days were numbered. She didn't think anyone screwed up twice with this boss.
And apparently getting hit over the head was akin to screwing up.
***
Ronin swore he could tell when she left her body. And didn't that stretch his sense of reality? What part of her had she left? And what part of her had left? These were questions that he couldn't answer, but they reverberated in his mind. Her body, still draped over his, had become...boneless. It was weird because it was more than as if she were asleep. It's as if she had died except her chest still rose and fell in a relaxed manner. Her color looked normal; her breathing sounded normal; but she didn't feel normal.
He wanted to get up and go to work. Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind now.
Tabitha needed to get back fast. That something could go wrong and he'd never know… He didn’t want to dwell on that.
He couldn't believe what he'd seen and done these last few days. But there was one person who could possibly help him deal with his cat problem. If he would.
Reaching out gently so as to not disturb Tabitha, he snagged up his phone and called Stefan.
"Hey, I'm hoping you can help me." He stopped, not really sure how to start. Should he even ask? At least Stefan might be able to give him answers no one else could. And he needed to deal with this fast – if he could. He tried aga
in. "I have a little problem."
"Really?" Stefan murmured, humor in his voice. "I'm not a counselor."
"Damn. Not that kind of problem," he growled. "Another problem. A problem from my past. At least Tabitha suggested it might be from there...if such a thing is possible."
"What type of problem?"
"Cats. I get a weird reaction when I'm around cats..." He winced, took a deep breath and explained what happened when he came close to them. He groaned. "Most of the time it's no big deal, but around Tabitha..." He gave a bitter laugh. "And if I tell myself that often enough, I might believe it."