It made me swallow hard. All of the things she told me about Davey and all the things that had happened over the last few days, I knew this would be the family I would fight everything to keep. I suddenly closed my eyes, remembering my parents and how I was supposed to be with them, "Fuck. I have to call my parents." I leaned against the counter, I almost died and my parents would be left wondering if I had disappeared on them once again.
I felt Claire's hand on my arm, "I called them when we got home from Tennessee and you were stable. Told them I had to steal you for a few more days, but by the end of the month, I would have them up for a weekend with us."
I opened my eyes, looking over at the blonde, her eyes soft, "Let's clean this up and go upstairs to bed." She dropped her hand, "We can go over everything while I lay down in a proper bed." She rolled her shoulders, "I also need to get out of this smelly sweatshirt." Claire threw me a mischievous smirk as she loaded the dishwasher. I nudged her, turning to grab the spatula and towel, "You are the only one to blame for that."
______________________
I sat in the large chair between the two bookshelves in Claire's room. She had given me Dr. Bourne's notebook to look over while she showered. The whole thing was mildly disturbing to me, reading over words that felt like they belonged in a creepy science fiction movie. The truth was far from fiction, but Dr. Bourne was obviously inspired by science fiction to create a new reality of humans who were the furthest from human.
Reading over her continuing mental abuse of patient Honey, made me sick to my stomach. Regardless of the accident and the extreme injuries of the patient, there was a person underneath it all, not just a vessel for Dr. Bourne to carry out her physical and psychological manipulations. I flicked the pages, reading over things that continued to make me sick that the government I once served happily and dutifully would be okay with allowing these kind of experiments to be conducted under their watch and funded by tax payer’s dollars. I set the notebook down on the edge of the bed, the only thing that made sense to me now was why the CIA was desperate to have Claire's research. Her work was less invasive and painful to the ones she helped, it would not be such a brutal process as Dr. Bourne laid out. Manipulating the patient into being a mindless robot that would willingly have their humanity removed from them and replaced.
I curled my legs up underneath me, looking at the bathroom door as Claire walked out, setting Dr. Bourne's notebook off to the small table next to me. A puff of steam followed her out as she toweled her wet hair. She smiled in my direction, tossing the towel on the bed, moving into her massive closet. Claire exited a second later, wearing long sweat shorts, pulling down a thin shirt over her head. I turned quickly enough for a glimpse of her breasts and abs flexing with her movements. The sight made me bite the inside of my cheek and look elsewhere. My sex drive was off the charts with the rest of my pain free, injury free body I now travelled around in.
I had to sit on my hands, curl up in a ball tighter to fight the want to tackle the woman and revisit a few things I discovered about her during our first night together, especially how she liked to be on top and dig nails into my back. I made myself stare at the pile of science magazines stacked under the notebook, picking at the spines with a fingernail, "Do you want to go into the office tomorrow or wait another few days? The interns sent over the schedule for the first week back." My fingernail dug out the center of the O on the October issue of popular science, doing very little to kill my pounding heart and body. "Davey is coming with us, to go over your office and walk the building with me." The smell of her soap, warm and fragrant moved into my immediate airspace, infiltrating my heightened senses and whittling down my resolve to not touch her. I picked harder at the magazine, funneling the extra energy to peel October completely off the magazine.
Claire brushed past me to pick up the pillows I kicked from the bed when we last slept. I closed my eyes instead of watching her fluff the white down rectangles back to life and returning them to their proper spots. She glanced over her shoulder at me, continuing to fluff, "I think it would be good to try to get on a normal schedule. I can only do so much from home and if I don't make some appearance at the office, the other Senators will become jealous."
Claire yawned at the tail end of the sentence, stretching her arms up high. Giving me a peek at her back and the fact her shorts had dipped further down her waist, allowing her hips to poke out and torture me further. I swallowed thickly, trying to curl myself up even more. "Okay, I will set the alarm for five thirty." I let out a sexually frustrated breath. I wanted nothing more to ravage the woman innocently straightening sheets and blankets, but I knew it would not be fair to Claire. It was clear she had worn herself ragged to make me whole again. She didn't need my horn dog ways coming at her. Even if her serum was to blame for my current, uncomfortable state, I would have to wait for her signal to lunge.
I cleared my throat, trying and failing not to watch her move about the room. Taking notice of the way her body moved effortlessly, as if it was floating. I bit harder in my cheek and decided to bring up a random and non -sexual conversation topic. I opened my mouth to ask about tomorrow's weather when I was I interrupted.
"Kit, you said Alistair was wearing the bottom half of a Kabuki mask?"
Talking about a mad man was definitely a mood killer.
I shifted in the chair, half -heartedly searching my memory of what I saw inches from my face that night. "Yes, I think so. It was red and white with chubby cheeks. A scary big mouth that was like a half smile and half frown. I couldn't see if the was a full face one. It ended at his nose, disappearing into the shadows. Even his eyes seemed black and blank." I closed my eyes, letting my memory drift fully into that moment. "It was red, white. Wide markings making the shape of the mouth and two sets of large teeth that looked like exaggerated vampire teeth." I opened my eyes, Claire was now sitting on the middle of the bed. Drying the rest of her hair with the towel, collecting it in a ponytail.
She nodded at me, "Interesting. Kabuki masks are sometimes linked to an idea of gender neutrality since men had to also play female parts on stage and the females would often have to take on the disguise of a man to even touch the stage."
She dropped the towel on the floor, "Primarily Kabuki masks are associated with the demons of Japanese lore and mythology." Claire leaned over to the bookshelf next to the bed, selecting a single sheet of paper from one of her giant budget reports and held it out to me. "Do you think you can draw it?"
I took the sheet, "I can try." I grabbed the thin marker next to the stack of magazines, sketching out the mask I saw from memory, holding it out to Claire when I was done. She took it lightly and held it up in the light of the room. Her brow knitted in thought, "Hmm. This looks like an Oni mask." Claire set the sheet on her lap, folding her hands to rest over it. "An Oni is a Japanese demon set out to deceive humans. It's an intriguing choice for a man who spouts his reason of evil doing in the name of a Christian lord."
She cocked her head to the side, "It is perfect for how deceptive he is to that world he claims to be serving and those serving him. Oni are responsible for disasters, the spread of disease and can take on many forms to trick the humans they are trying to harm." Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, "At least that’s what the mythical texts state."
Claire leaned back, plucking a thin book from the rows of books crammed on the poor over-burdened shelf. She then flicked open the book, fluttering a few pages before handing it over to me opened. Pointing at a series of beautiful color photographs of frightening Oni masks. I nodded slowly, "These are exactly what I saw." I ran my fingers over the glossy, smooth pages, looking up at Claire through my eyelashes, "Is there anything you do not know?"
She shrugged, the shy smile I adored showing its face. "There is a lot I don't know. Trust me." She unfurled her legs, crawling to her side of the bed and sliding under the blankets. Sighing as her head hit one of the freshly fluffed pillows, "I spent three weeks in Japan on a break from Oxford. I
went there to study eastern holistic methods and ancient healing procedures. The tea I made for you during your detox? The recipe was taught to me by an old Japanese monk." Rolling onto her side, "This does give me an interesting and clearer insight on Alistair and where his mind might be at. Deception on many levels. A true sociopath."
I closed the book, pressing my palms on the embossed cover, "His mind is on you, Claire. The basement proved that to me." I paused, "I don't know what Davey told you."
Claire shook her head, "You don't have to, he told me everything. Everything you saw." A tight smile replaced the shy one, letting silence follow and fill in the room. I could see on her face she did not want to talk about the room dedicated to Claire Avondale and his obsession with her.
I unraveled my legs and body from the chair, putting the book of masks back in its home, I turned to look at Claire. I had a wave of guilt wash over me, guilt for the simple fact this woman had given me everything from day one and all I have given in return was heartache, heartbreak, worry and a sense of fear of losing something greater than the both of us. Davey's simple words to take care of her rang like church bells in my head. It was her turn.
Claire yawned, looking at me with sleepy eyes, "What is it Kit? Do you need something?"
I sighed, shaking my head, "I should ask you what you need. What you want and how can I take care of you." I ran a hand over my hair nervously, "I feel like I've done nothing but bring more of this nonsense to you when I am supposed to be keeping you safe." I folded arms across my chest, pressing them tightly against my pain free ribs. Another reminder of how far she had gone for me.
Claire shuffled in the blankets, sitting up against the headboard, her amber eyes found mine before she spoke, "Kit, you are all I want, all I need and just asking me what I need, is more than enough." The shy genuine smile returned, "I have all that I want." Her eyes lit up, "What is it you want to do Kit?"
I held her eyes, hesitating to tell her the truth of what I wanted. I knew she would say no or balk at the idea, but I had to say it. The look in her eyes begged it of me, "I want to take you away from all of this. Away from the Senate, the maniacs, the government. Take you to anywhere else where you feel safe and you can stop doing this work for a while. Until they forget about you and you can choose a life as the doctor, the Senator, or just the beach bum I met in Malibu." I climbed on the edge of the bed, crawling closer to her, "I don't want you to worry for a long time, that someone will hurt you." I took a deep breath, "I don't want to risk your life anymore."
Claire found my hand, taking it in hers, "I want all of that and more, but in time." Her thumb ran over my knuckles, "There is a little girl who needs me first and after that, I will seriously look at leaving this life behind. Find a boring job in the hills of Malibu or Scotland and have nothing but you and the ocean to wake up to." Claire's words filled my heart and gave me the hope that there was a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, there was a way out for us. We just had to fight through the fire and brimstone Alistair was dead set on casting down.
She kissed me softly, reigniting the fire I thought I extinguished. It forced me to back a way an inch, "Claire..." I could feel the blush creep all through my body. "I, uh, feel different. Like I'm sixteen again and my hormones are doing all of the thinking." I looked up at her, sheepishly, "And you need to sleep. So please, don't kiss me again or I will not be responsible for the actions of my hands or my mouth."
Claire chuckled, running her hand over my cheek, "Side effect of the serum. Not only does it heal everything in a matter of hours, it also is a better drug than Viagra, Cialis and the rest combined. It apparently is a part of the healing process." Her hand fell from my face, "I agree. I would not be a suitable match for you right now. I can barely keep my eyes open." Claire settled back down into the pillows, murmuring, "We don't have to share a bed..."
I shook my head furiously, yanking back the blankets and hopping under them, "Not a chance. I've missed you, missed you enough that I can behave." I snuggled up to her, enjoying the way her body always seemed to be the perfect temperature. Face to face, I slid my arm across her waist, watching her smile through heavy eyelids. I drew my fingers over her hair, down her cheek, "I promise, Claire. If you want to leave this all behind, I will do everything I can to make it happen."
Claire mumbled incoherently, scooting closer to me. Her breath across my neck changed from quick to slow, shortly followed by light snores. I kissed her forehead, holding her close. Distracting my raging libido with thoughts of what it would be like living a life free of everything. No CIA, no FBI, no Alistair and no Criterion. Just a house on a hill somewhere where she and I could find the idea of normal we all search for.
I laid awake for hours, Claire in my arms, holding her and dreaming of what could be.
Pushing suit after suit in the closet, I frowned. I was not at all interested in picking one to wear to the office. I had gotten far too used to my old jeans, t-shirts and varying array of pajamas. I huffed, hands on my hips, staring at the endless row of designer suits and dresses. I groaned, giving in to a pair of well fitted grey slacks and a light blue button down. I would ease into the full suit or full dress later on in the week, when I was better adjusted to being the Senator again.
Laying the clothes on the bed, I released the thick towel I wore from the bathroom. My eyes drifting to the empty divots in the bed.
When I woke up at five thirty to the happy chirp of the alarm, Kit was gone. Walking around the second level, I couldn't find her in any of the rooms. I only heard the faint, but aggressive hum of the treadmill in the side room next to the library. The hefty slaps of Kit's even paced feet running off the sexual tension and endless energy she had from the after effects of her treatment. I felt terrible giving the redhead the cliché blue balls and not doing anything about it, opting to roll over and go to sleep like an old married woman, choosing sleep over a quickie.
I wanted to, god did I want to test her energy levels, more so when I heard her painful sighs and felt the twitches throughout the night when my body touched hers. Exhaustion had won out, anytime I opened my eyes in the night and looked at Kit, I would pass out a second after I decided to do something about the tension. Drowning in a deep sleep.
I drew the slacks over my legs, knowing that by the end of the day, the staircase, the bed, and maybe even the kitchen counter would get a lesson in tension relief. Buttoning the shirt and tucking it into the slacks, I smirked to myself at the thoughts of testing how much energy Kit had pent up.
I returned to the bathroom to wrangle my damp hair into a conservative up do, apply minimal conservative makeup and then have a conservative minimal breakfast. I had a hard routine I followed when I returned to the office and it was rearing its ugly conservative head. I truly didn't want to go in to the office today, more now after hearing Kit tell me what she wanted for us, a life far from all of this madness in a tangled web of politics, science and murder.
Sucking in a slow breath, I applied the final touches of foundation.
After Beth.
After Beth I would seriously think about ending my Senate run, forgo a second term and leave the capital. Take a break from Criterion and spend my days with Kit, where all I had to think about was which county could we be the laziest in the longest.
Happy with my makeup and hair, I left the bathroom. Collecting my matching jacket and dusty briefcase, I moved downstairs. I dropped both articles at the front door, drawn like a bear to honey at the thick, delicious aroma of fresh coffee emanating from the kitchen.
Davidek and Kit were in the kitchen indulging in a rare calm silence, he sat at the small breakfast nook in his usual Armani suit with a purple tie reading the newspaper. She was at the coffee machine, pouring a fresh mug in a pale grey pantsuit with thin light pink pinstripes and a soft white button down. The entire outfit was tailored to fit her exquisitely, adding a little extra to her ponytail and the light makeup she wore. She was gorgeous and it made me really consider working
from home today and sending Davidek on errands that would take him all morning and into the afternoon.
Kit glanced over her shoulder, catching me staring. She grinned, "Morning. Coffee?"
I nodded, walking to the table to sit with Davidek. A steaming mug was set in front of me and I eagerly wrapped my hands around it, soaking in the warmth when Kit's hand ran across my back, adding a different kind of warmth to my body. "Did you want something to eat Claire? We have ten minutes before we should leave."
I shook my head, smiling as I brought the mug to my lips, "Coffee is fine for now, I usually get a bagel at the office."
Kit smiled and moved back to the coffee maker, leaving me to stare once again at how well her outfit was tailored. Davidek cleared his throat and rattled the newspaper, grinning mischievously at me when I snapped my head around to look in his bright eyes. He shook his head, sliding a file over to me, "Plenty of reading literature for you. The motel incident and Bourne's files, I printed them out while you were getting ready. Bourne’s file has been edited via CIA black marker protocol, but the gist of what happened is there." He leaned back in the seat, sipping his coffee.
I slid the files next to me. "I'll look at them at the office." I took a deep drink of the coffee, "You know I hate doing business first thing."
Davidek rolled his eyes, "You and your routines, Claire." He twisted his arm, looking at his watch, "We better get a move on if we want to avoid the morning rush hour." He stood, picking up his newspaper, he pointed at Kit, "You ready, kid?"
Kit nodded, pouring the rest of her coffee in the sink, "I am." She went to leave the kitchen after catching the Cadillac keys Davidek threw her, but paused looking back at Davidek and I, both looked at me and in a strange unison, "Are you ready Senator Avondale?"
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