Redemptio Animae

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Redemptio Animae Page 67

by Sydney Gibson


  Claire paused, looking deeper in my eyes. "You know you're my June, right?"

  I had to bite my lip at how adorable Claire was being in this moment, and how dead on she was. I leaned into her more, "I kind of think I am more of a Johnny than a June." I leaned closer, our lips grazing, "Thank you for bringing me here." I moved closer, our lips meeting in a soft and slow kiss.

  Claire's hand settled on the edge of my jaw, holding me as we kissed for a moment. Claire breaking away first and leaving both of us breathless, "My mom will come up here and chase us down if we don't make it to the kitchen."

  I grinned, closing my eyes, "I understand. But I am going to do my best to get you to fool around in your parent’s house." I slid off the edge of the bed, still holding onto Claire's hand, pulling her with me, "Come on Johnny, let's go eat. I am hoping some food will help my nervous stomach."

  Claire pulled me back, sliding her arm around my waist, "Kit, there's nothing you have to be nervous about. My parents are just like yours. Normal people who are happy to see their daughter finally happy. Nothing more and nothing less."

  I leaned into her side, "I'm still nervous. Your mom has your uncanny ability to read people like an open book. I am nervous she will pick up on things." I swallowed hard, worried that Ingrid would pick up that I was a recovering alcoholic and a recovering failure.

  Claire squeezed me tighter, "You have nothing to worry about, Kit. I promise."

  ____________________

  Claire was right. Over lunch I quickly realized that Ingrid and Claire's father, Colin, only cared that Claire was happy. Happy that their workaholic daughter was finding something else to live for other than the Senate and her side projects.

  Colin was in the middle of telling us a story of how Claire first cracked the smelting process the steel mill still uses to this day. Colin was in his early sixties and looked like a clean cut business man from the forties. Wearing a pinstripe suit with a vest, his salt and pepper hair cut in a vintage style that was once again popular these days. His smile was Claire's when she was extremely happy, genuine and always well placed, and his bright blue green eyes mirrored his daughters.

  He was animated, using his hands to express certain words and emphasize how excited a tiny Claire was with her crayon drawings of chemical structures. His suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and his bright red tie pulled down and loosened, he reminded me of my father in the ease he had in talking to anyone about anything in the matter of seconds of first introductions.

  I picked at the crumbs on my plate from the thick turkey sandwiches Davey's mom had made. I wanted to sit and talk to Karolina and dig out all sorts of juicy facts about Davey, but she ran in to town for errands as soon as the food hit the table. Instead I sat and relished at watching Claire’s parents, seeing how the best of both of them came together in Claire. The kindness, warmth and sense of humor of her mother, the strength, wit and tenacity of her father.

  I felt Claire's hand slid across the top of my thigh and find my hand, distracting me from her father for a split second as he finished the story. I looked at her and almost didn't hear the question directed at me from Colin.

  "So Kit, how long are you intending to keep my daughter here?"

  I swung my head around to look in the same soft blue green eyes his daughter carried, "Uh, I was hoping I could get her to stay for a few days, maybe a week?" I glanced at Claire, "The city is, rather hectic right now."

  Colin lifted his glass of tea, "I can imagine. Especially after the shooting." he looked at Claire, "I am assuming you took care of your arm?" He pointed with the glass at her right arm.

  Claire nodded, "I did. The pink serum I saved." She pushed her plate away, "Do you still have that formula locked up?"

  Colin nodded, "Of course. It's buried deep in the one vault." he paused, "Claire, you know your mother and I never worry about you. We know that you have a better handle on your safety than any federal agency could ever dare to offer. But, I have heard things at Sunday golf with the boys." Colin's voice was edged with worry, concern but at the same time trying to respect his daughter's ways.

  Claire's face dropped slightly, squeezing my hand tighter, "Kit and Davidek have a handle on things." She looked up at her parents and I saw the gentle disgust of having to lie to your parents to get them to stop worrying so much.

  Colin squinted at her, "Fair enough. You're a big girl now." he let out a sigh then looked at me, "Talk some sense into this one and try to get her to ease up on something. The Senate seat or Criterion. I can clearly tell my daughter is wearing herself thin and from what I hear in the gossip over tee times." He shrugged knowingly, telling me he really didn't want to go into the details we both already knew.

  Ingrid poked her husband, "Colin. Let's leave the heavy topics to when we have all had more to drink. Let our girl get a breath of fresh air before being smothered by her adoring parents." She looked over at me, "I can tell my daughter is in very good hands with Kit here." She winked at me, "And we all know that Davidek is the older brother Claire here never had." Ingrid leaned over the table, "Did Claire ever tell you how Davidek beat up the star quarterback for calling Claire a nerdy flannel wearing feminist?"

  Claire groaned, "Mom, please no." Claire looked at me, frowning more when she saw the big grin on my face.

  "Why no, Ingrid, I don't think I’ve heard this story."

  Ingrid laughed, patting her husband on the shoulder, "Colin, I think it's time to get the whiskey out. Poor Claire will need it."

  Colin stood up, laughing, "Yes ma'am." He looked at me, "How do you take yours Kit? On the rocks? Straight up?"

  I swallowed hard, squeezing Claire's hand tighter, "Thank you, but no thank you. I don't drink. I quit a couple of months of ago." I smiled tightly at Claire, "I am almost three months sober because of Claire."

  Colin blushed, "My apologies Kit. Can I get you a soda or a coffee instead?"

  I felt Claire lean closer to me, making my smile shift from tight to genuine, "Coffee, please." Colin waved at me, "Coming right up. Coffee for everyone." He hustled back into the kitchen. Leaving Ingrid looking at me in that way I knew she had picked up I was a recovering addict. She nodded knowingly before looking at Claire, "So, tell me how you two met and fell into this love affair. It must be a good story if my daughter is finally bringing someone home to meet her old stuffy parents."

  Claire looked at me, smiling, "I knew within two days of meeting her mom and knew it would be one hell of a fight, but worth it every step of the way."

  It was my turn to blush and look down at our hands as Claire began telling the story of how I was a drunken asshole in our first few weeks and finally realized what was standing right in front of me. Something I would fight for and continue to fight for like Johnny had for June.

  The rest of that first day was spent in the kitchen. Claire's parents telling me stories, Claire interjecting about her childhood and how it was perfect for her to grow up into the super nerd she was today. Her parents were both fully aware of the Criterion Centre and Claire's work there. They didn't talk too much about it, stating matter of factly that the more they played dumb, the less people would bother them. Over that first night I could tell how similar Claire's and I's upbringing was. The only true difference was the billions of dollars they had versus the middle class wages of my family.

  I also began to slowly see why Claire was so closed off and dead set on throwing herself into work, avoiding the normal human functions of finding love and embracing the myriad of emotions that came with it. She was dead set on saving the world and nothing would stop her.

  That is until I ended up on her couch hung over and wondering why in the world did this classy woman want me to protect her. Looking back, I saw that Claire had saved me and gave me a second chance at life and a first chance at a love that I would cherish forever.

  By the third day, we both eased up and fell into an easy routine of sleeping in, eating whatever food Karolina made while she told me del
icious secrets about her little boy Davey. After lunch, Claire and I would walk around the property, holding hands and thinking nothing about the outside world and the small pockets of hell we still had to face when we came out of this perfect and peaceful bubble.

  By the third night I was beginning to get antsy. Antsy to forgo the nightly snuggles and cuddling and try to get Claire to fool around in her parent’s house, knock one more thing off of my perverted bucket list.

  I had done everything I knew would get Claire riled up at dinner. Grazing the top of her inner thigh under the dinner table, brush past her a little too closely as I helped clean up the dishes, then lastly run my hand down her side from breast to hip. The one thing that would always drive her crazy.

  Claire gasped as my fingers drew slowly down her ribs as I passed her to set the dessert plates into the sink. I leaned up to her ear, whispering, "I'll be upstairs, reading." Claire looked down in my eyes, making me smirk when I saw her visibly swallow. "Give me a little bit. Dad wants me to look over a few new formulas and the steel budget proposal from the mayor." She sighed hard at the idea of work versus me.

  I kissed her cheek slowly, "Take your time. I know I will with you later."

  Claire frowned, licking her lips. I smiled, knowing I had succeeded in breaking her will to pieces. I left the kitchen and climbed up the stairs, thankful her parent’s room was on the other side of the house, far enough away that sounds would not be an issue.

  I climbed into the bed, sighing as it seemed to swallow me up in perfect comfort. I picked up the small book I had found the night before, a vintage book on 1900's fingerprinting techniques. I set it on the pillow to change out of my jeans and t-shirt, pulling on my Purdue shirt and leaving nothing on the bottom but my tiny little black panties. Another thing I knew Claire loved to take off me.

  I crawled into bed, rolling to my side, I read a few chapters before I passed out. My hand tucked in the book as my head buried into Claire's pillow.

  I was woken up by the feel of the bed shifting and a warm body crawling over me, strong legs straddling me and squeezing possessively. I smiled, rolling on my back as the blankets were pulled back. I could smell her shampoo and the lavender Karoline kept throughout the house. Claire's hands caressed my side, moving up to the sides of my breasts before she held onto the side of my jaw.

  I mumbled eagerly, "I've been waiting for you."

  Claire said nothing, her lips pressing hard kisses to my cheek as her fingers drew down to my neck. Her other hand running over the bare skin on my stomach. The sensation drove me insane, I wanted more. I wanted Claire now.

  I arched my back up to search out more contact with her, and was met with her pushing me back down. Her legs squeezing tighter as she moved to sit on my waist. I moaned, Claire taking control like this was not unexpected, but she usually was softer about it. I opened my eyes to see her long blonde hair loose and draping around her face. I slid my hands up and tangled my fingers in it, pulling her down to my lips.

  She kissed me hard and rough, another thing that was slightly different. Claire was always purposeful in her kisses, taking her time in building up the intensity. I whispered against her mouth, "What has gotten into you?"

  Claire kissed me again, a little harder than the first one. Her hands sliding from my stomach and jaw, both meeting at the nape of my neck. She broke from the hard kiss, one that left my lips sore. I cringed and looked up at her, searching out her blue green eyes in the minimal light. I leaned over and turned on the bedside light, "Claire are you okay? We don't have to do this if you feel weird about..."

  My words were cut off when Claire's hands cut off my air. Squeezing my neck tightly, squeezing my trachea closed. I gasped looking at her, the bedside light illuminating her face clearly. It was Claire, but she had an evil, frightening smirk on her face as she pressed harder with her hands on my neck. Also pushing her body weight down on mine to keep me from squirming. I began to claw at her hands, her forearms, gasping for air. I was trying not to panic, my fingers gripping at the ones around my neck. Trying my best to pry them free.

  Claire leaned back a bit and when I met her eyes, I didn't see the blue green eyes of the woman I loved.

  This Claire had dark blue eyes.

  Dead dark blue eyes that only lit up the more I gasped and choked for air.

  Chapter 25

  Panic.

  Fear.

  I was fighting both hard. Trying to reel in the two to focus it back into my training. I knew I only had seconds before I blacked out from lack of air. A few seconds that felt like an eternity. Everything was moving in slow motion.

  I was fighting the vision in front of me. The woman I loved choking me out. Squeezing tighter and tighter with every little move I made to pull her hands from my throat.

  I knew it wasn't Claire by the dead blue eyes staring in mine, but it didn't mess with my psyche any less.

  I gasped for air. The hands pressing deeper and harder against my throat. I tried to buck my hips, to no avail. The body on top of me was heavy, holding me down on the mattress like a steel weight. I clawed at the hands, unable to pry up the strong fingers.

  My vision was blurring, the edges blacking out with every movement I made. I had one last action, one I knew if it failed I would die under the hands trapping me.

  I reached up to this fake Claire's face, the smirk of evil still plastered on her face, the dead blue eyes sparkling with delight. My hands trembled with the last few bits of energy I had left. I slid my hand across her cheek, my thumb caressing the edge of her eye socket. The smirk grew wider as my hand moved further up.

  I pushed my body to give me one last boost and drove my thumb with everything I had into the eye socket, pushing deep into the socket.

  For a second, she didn't flinch or move until I drove deeper, pulling to the side as my thumb pushed past and into the socket. I was rewarded with a shrill groan and one of the hands releasing from my throat, only giving me slivers of air in.

  The other hand was still had a death grip on my trachea. The woman grabbed at my hand and tried to pull my hand free. This also shifted her weight off of and up from my hips, giving me the precious room to buck my hips up and throw her off balance.

  The evil Claire was flung off the bed, forcefully removing my thumb from her eye socket with a scream and a wet noise.

  The moment her hands were free, I choked, sucked in a huge breath of air, feeling like I was coming to the surface of water after almost drowning. I sat up in the bed, sucking as much air in as possible to clear out the edges of blackness that had begun to sink in. I turned to look at the woman, already getting to her feet and looking to attack again. The air filling my lungs kicked everything out of slow motion and back to reality.

  I had a fight on my hands.

  A knife appeared in her left hand. A thin, long, sharp blade soaking up the ambient light. The evil smirk returned, as blood from her eye rolled down to the corner of her mouth.

  I didn't wait. I lunged from the bed, tackling her at the waist, sending the two of us into the wall directly behind her. A large oomph came from her throat when her back hit the wall. I reached for her wrist of the knife hand, throwing all of my energy into trying to break it, but I was unsuccessful, she was stronger than I.

  I pinned Claire to the wall, but found her to be extremely strong when I was shoved back with one hand against the shoulder.

  I skittered across the floor, tumbling into the side of the bed, hitting the wooden floor with a thump, my right arm stuck under my side at a weird angle. I looked up, Claire's smirk gone and a pure face of irritation in its place, and I had to fight my mind again looking at Claire. Her blonde hair falling over her face as she stalked towards me, she looked exactly like my Claire. But it wasn't my Claire.

  Whoever this was I had to kill them, I knew that deep in my gut no matter what my eyes wanted to see.

  I pushed myself up, cringing when I felt a sharp pain in my forearm. I glanced at the bedside table, the P
99 was in still in the small drawer as I left it days ago, loaded and ready. I had to get to it.

  Claire saw where my eye line was directed and moved while I tried to scramble to my feet.

  The instant my feet found the floor, a hand came around my throat again, picking me up off the floor, holding me in the air like I weighed nothing. I clawed at the hand, my legs swinging in the hopes of making contact. I was suddenly pulled closer to the dark blue eyes, inches away from her face, she cocked her head at an angle, staring deep into my eyes. The redness of the one, staring at me like a red pool of fresh blood. "You are to die first tonight. Then her and then the rest of her family." The voice was low and gravelly, nothing like Alistair's in the motel. This one was more distinctively female.

  The blue eyes held mine, as if they were coming to a strange realization, or a sense of serenity. The type of serenity that comes with finally finding the end to a task that has bothered you for so long because it was yet to be completed.

  I took the moment, dropping my right arm back and swinging it up to strike the side of the doppelganger's face hard. The same side where I had gouged out the eye.

  My fist caught the underside of her jaw, doing its job as we fell to the right both off balance. We fell to the ground together, my body landing on top of hers in a collective grunt. I felt another strange pain in my left side, but I was too focused and full of adrenaline to care. I stood up fast, kicking the woman hard in the ribs. Satisfied when I heard a groan with the gentle crack of a few ribs, causing the doppelgänger to curl up into a ball.

 

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