John's Yearning

by Tina Folsom

  “Now we wait,” Thomas said.

  “How long?” John asked.

  “No idea. It’s the middle of the night. Not sure if the hacker is up right now monitoring his spiders. If he is, it may be just a few minutes. If not, it could be hours.”

  “Okay. I guess you don’t need us right now,” John said and upon Thomas’s confirmation looked at Savannah. “There’s something I need from your flat. And you need to pack a bag.”

  “A bag? Why?”

  “Because you can’t stay at your place anymore. Knowing what we know now, I don’t think it’s safe. They’ll try again.”

  “Okay.”

  To Thomas, he said, “I’ll be back soon. If you get a location on the hacker before that, call me.”

  He led Savannah out of the computer lab and back to his car.

  After leaving the garage, Savannah said, “Isabelle seems to be a very well-adjusted young woman, despite what’s happened to her.”

  John gave her a sideways glance, guessing what she was thinking. “With the right help and support a kidnapping doesn’t have to leave permanent scars. Isabelle went through a traumatic experience, but she’s come out of it a strong young woman.”

  It had helped that all of Scanguards had been mobilized to find her. During her capture, she had held onto the belief that her father would move heaven and earth to save her. And he had. Buffy didn’t have a father to protect her. Instead, John would now move heaven and earth to save her.

  “It’s given me hope,” Savannah admitted. “And your colleagues… they are all amazing. Smart, and skilled. Without them—”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. Your idea to upload new pictures was brilliant. I’m confident that it will lead us to the hacker. And once we have him, we’re almost there.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She sighed. “You said you wanted to get something from my flat. What is it?”

  “The ransom note.”

  “Why? There’s nothing on it. And I believe the kidnapper when he says there are no fingerprints.”

  “I agree. He wouldn’t be so stupid. He would have worn gloves, but there’s a strange smell to the paper. It’s very distinct.”

  “I didn’t smell anything.”

  And she wouldn’t have, because it was too faint for a human’s nose. But his vampire sense of smell had picked it up. “I’m going to have our forensics guys check it out. It may help us in narrowing down where our kidnapper is holing up.” Because if the paper had been kept in the same location as the kids, its smell might give them clues as to the type of building the children were in. “I meant to bring the ransom note earlier, but—” Crap! He didn’t want to remind her of what they’d done in her flat earlier. “—when I saw Buffy’s photo, I forgot all about it.”

  Had she noticed his pivot? He cast her a quick sideways glance, but couldn’t detect what she was thinking about. Maybe he was the only one who couldn’t get their passionate encounter out of his mind.

  Once they were inside her apartment, John said, “Pack only what you need for a couple of days. I’ll get the ransom note.”

  “Okay.” She walked toward her bedroom, when she suddenly looked over her shoulder. “Do I have time for a quick shower?”

  He nodded. “Go ahead.”

  When she disappeared, he walked back into the living room, pulled out a small Ziploc bag and put the ransom note as well as the photo of Buffy the kidnapper had sent in it. Maybe his team could find out where the photo was taken, though at first glance the room Buffy was in looked too generic to provide any clues. But maybe somebody else had a better eye.

  John pulled his cell from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts, then pressed Benjamin’s number.

  “Hey, John. What do you need?”

  “How far are you from Savannah’s flat?”

  “About five minutes, why?”

  “Is Damian still watching Alexi?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. I want you to come to Savannah’s flat. I’ve got something for you to deliver to HQ.”

  “Be there in five.”

  A click in the line, and the hybrid was gone.

  He listened for Savannah, who was opening cupboards in the bathroom, and then heard the water of the shower running. He pressed another number, walking farther away from the door to the hallway.

  A sleepy male voice answered his call.

  “John, what the fuck?”

  “Hey, Wesley, I need a favor.”

  “At three in the morning?”

  “You know the hours I keep. Can’t be avoided.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Make it snappy.”

  “I need you to take in a guest for a few days.”

  “What kind of guest?”

  “A client, a woman.”

  “Did her place burn down or something?”

  “No.”

  “You need me to protect her?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m assuming there’s a reason you can’t do it yourself.”

  One reason? Hundreds of reasons. “Yep.”

  “I’m assuming that’s all the information you’re gonna give me,” Wesley said dryly.

  “Afraid so. Can you do it?”

  “Sure. When’s she due to arrive?”

  “In about half an hour.”

  “Gee, thanks for the advance notice.”

  “Oh, and Wes,” John added, looking over his shoulder to check that Savannah was nowhere near. “She doesn’t know who we are.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep things under wraps.”

  “Owe you one.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m keeping track.”

  John disconnected the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  A few minutes later, Savannah was ready. John walked to the window and looked outside. A black Porsche was just turning into the street. Perfect timing.

  “Let’s go.”

  He took Savannah’s travel bag and walked downstairs ahead of her. As he exited, Benjamin was already coming up the steps.

  “Hey, John,” the young hybrid said. His gaze fell onto the bag in John’s hand, then drifted past John to Savannah who was exiting behind him and pulling the door shut.

  She let out a gasp when she saw Benjamin stand there as if blocking their exit.

  “This is one of my colleagues,” John said. “Benjamin LeSang. He’s been checking up on Alexi and Rachel and some of the other people Buffy had contact with.”

  Savannah seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Hi, Benjamin.”

  “Hi, Sav—I mean, Ms. Rice.”

  Savannah made a dismissive gesture. “Savannah is fine.”

  Benjamin nodded politely. “You had something for me, John?”

  John pulled the plastic bag with the ransom note from his inside pocket and handed it to the hybrid. “Have this analyzed right away. I smelled something really pungent. Some sort of chemical. It’s faint, but I think it’s significant. It could lead us to where the children are kept.”

  “Alright. Not a problem.”

  “And once you’ve got the results for it, let me know. And contact Detective Donnelly. He might be able to help us find where in the city this chemical is used, if indeed it is a chemical.” And if the kids were indeed being held in San Francisco and hadn’t already been transported somewhere else.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Benjamin promised and, with a nod to Savannah, walked back to his Porsche and got in.

  John motioned to his Mercedes, unlocked it and put Savannah’s bag behind the seat, while she sank into the passenger seat. He joined her seconds later and drove off.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to a friend’s house where you can stay until all this is over.”

  “A friend’s house?”

  There was an edge to her voice that made the hairs on his nape rise. Why did he suddenly have the feeling he had to tread carefully? “Yes, Wesley and his wife will protect you.”

  “I s
ee.”

  She might as well have said fine, because it sounded just like it. Fine, when a woman used it, meant anything but. It meant she didn’t agree, didn’t like what he’d arranged. He felt he had to explain.

  “Listen, Savannah, you can’t stay at your place. I thought you understood that. The kidnapper knows where you live, and now that we’re certain that he wants you too, I can’t risk you being without protection. Wesley is a fully-trained bodyguard.” And a witch to boot. And he had a wife who could make people invisible. He and Virginia were the perfect people to watch over Savannah.

  “And what’s wrong with you protecting me? I hired you.”

  “Please understand, I can’t.”

  It was too risky. If she stayed with him, how could he resist the temptation to touch her again? And who knew what would happen this time? For both their sakes, he couldn’t allow it.

  24

  “I understand fully,” Savannah said.

  Because it was so obvious: John wanted as little to do with her as possible, because he regretted sleeping with her. And if she were smart, she wouldn’t bring the subject up, but she couldn’t bear that this tension between them might impede the investigation.

  “I’m sorry, John. I know you regret having slept with me.”

  He spun his head in her direction. “Regret?”

  She didn’t want to look at him and stared out the window instead. “Yes, please don’t pretend it’s otherwise.” She tried to find the right words to continue. “We’re adults. And just because one of us wanted something and dragged the other into it, doesn’t mean it has to continue. I don’t expect anything from you. I’m not going to hold it against you that you did what most men do when a woman comes on to them.”

  “You came on to me?”

  She couldn’t tell whether he was mocking her or not, but it didn’t matter. Her pride was long gone. All she wanted was a clean slate between them. “First, when I offered you my body for helping me. You can’t have forgotten that. And then, after you rescued me, I practically threw myself into your arms. I don’t blame you for…for—”

  “—for giving into temptation?”

  She shrugged. “If you want to call it that. In any case, I see now that you don’t want anything further, and that’s fine. I’m not going to tempt you again.” As much as she longed for his arms again, for the comfort they gave her, the strength they lent her.

  “I don’t think that’ll work, Savannah,” John said.

  She spun her head to him. “Please, John, I promise.”

  John suddenly slowed the car and pulled to the curb, where he stopped. Then he turned sideways in his seat and stared at her. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

  Alarmed by the odd tone in his voice and the fact that he’d stopped the car, she asked, “What are you saying? That you’re giving the case to somebody else?” Her heart was thundering now.

  John let out a deep sigh and ran one hand through his hair, pushing the long strands back behind his shoulder. “What I’m saying is that no matter what you do, no matter how you behave around me, I’ll always be tempted. I’m tempted right now.”

  The words slammed into her like a freight train coming out of nowhere.

  “But I can’t allow myself to act on it again. Don’t you see that? You were vulnerable, and I took advantage of you. And instead of being gentle with you, I fucked you like an animal. I used you for my own pleasure, when I knew you didn’t really want me. You went along because of the situation you were in. You’d gone through a horrible experience, and you needed comfort. And instead of giving you comfort, instead of reassuring you, I fucked you.”

  His confession stunned her into silence. Did he really believe that he’d taken advantage of her?

  “Now you know. You should stay away from me, for your own good. I can’t trust myself with you. If I take you to my house, if I let you stay there, I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again. It’s been too long since I’ve…” He stopped himself. “You don’t need somebody like me. And you know it deep down. I could sense it afterwards. After we had sex. You couldn’t even look at me.”

  Her heart beat into her throat. John was afraid of hurting her. He thought that he was imposing himself on her. That she hadn’t acted upon her own free will. That he’d steamrolled her.

  Slowly Savannah shook her head. “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand, John. I wanted you. Being in your arms, feeling you make love to me, was better than anything…” She dropped her lids and sighed. “But the guilt I felt afterwards, the guilt of having allowed myself to feel pleasure, to take something that was just for me, while Buffy is still in danger… that guilt is crushing me. I felt so ashamed afterwards. So ashamed that for a few minutes I was only thinking of myself.” She lifted her eyes again and met his gaze. “That’s why I couldn’t look at you. That’s why I couldn’t tell you how good it felt to be in your arms.”

  “Goddamn it!” he cursed and hit his fist against the steering wheel. “You’re not supposed to say that. You’re not supposed to tell me that you want this, that you want me. How am I going to resist you, when you tell me you want this?” Torment shone from his eyes.

  “You don’t have to resist. We’re adults. Nobody is preventing us from—”

  “I feel like I’m betraying her, because I desire you.”

  Shock charged through her veins like acid. “Her?”

  “My wife.” He closed his eyes and breathed heavily. “I owe you an explanation.” He turned back in his seat and gripped the steering wheel. “But not here. This is not a conversation I want to have in the car.”

  Savannah sat there in stunned silence. John had a wife. Yet he’d slept with her. Desired her. And why had he said it felt like he was betraying his wife? By sleeping with her, he had betrayed her. But a sideways glance at John told her that he wasn’t going to say another word until they’d reached their destination, wherever their destination was.

  Ten minutes later, John pulled up to a small house in Noe Valley and pressed the garage door opener on his visor. The garage door lifted and he drove inside.

  “Where are we?” Savannah finally asked.

  He switched off the engine. “This is my house.”

  Before she could protest or ask him anything else, he was already getting out of the car, taking the bag with him.

  She didn’t move. He couldn’t possibly intend to introduce her to his wife. That would be madness. He opened the car door for her.

  “You coming?”

  A lump in her throat, she got out of the car and followed him into the interior of the house. John flipped a light switch in the corridor and set her bag down next to the door through which they’d entered. Ahead of her was an archway into the living room. John motioned to it.

  “In here.” He flipped another light switch, and subdued light flooded the small but comfortable living room. “Take a seat.”

  She followed his invitation and sat down on the couch. John sank into a broad armchair opposite her. Savannah listened for sounds in the house, but there were none. Nobody apart from the two of them was here. They were alone. Which begged the question: where was his wife? Visiting relatives? Was that why he’d slipped, why he’d slept with her earlier tonight, knowing his wife was out of town?

  Not able to bear the suspense any longer, she asked, “Where is your wife?”

  He met her eyes. “Nicolette is dead.”

  A gasp burst over her lips and she pressed her hand to her mouth as if she could take her question back, but it was too late. “I’m so sorry, I’m—”

  “You don’t have to say that. You didn’t know her. What happened to her happened four years ago. But sometimes it feels like it was yesterday.”

  The pain in his voice was palpable.

  “You see, you’re not the only one who feels guilty for having experienced pleasure. I know how you feel. I know how guilt tastes, how you try to deny yourself any kind of pleasure bec
ause of it. That’s why I’m determined to find Buffy, so you won’t have to go through this any longer. Because it will eat away at you.”

  “Tell me what happened to her. To Nicolette,” Savannah said, because she could feel that he needed to talk, that maybe, he’d never talked about it before. That he’d kept it all inside.

  For a long moment John was silent, and it looked like he wasn’t going to respond, but then suddenly, he started to speak in a voice that sounded as if he was talking to himself. “She was pregnant with our first child. A son. We were living in New Orleans, and I was working as a bodyguard. There was a big party that night. I was overseeing the festivities. My boss had invited Nicolette too, and I’d made sure she had a limo and a driver to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive herself in her condition. She was almost eight months along. So close to giving birth.”

  Savannah noticed him take a deep breath as if to steady himself. As if to collect his strength so he could continue.

  “When she didn’t arrive when she was supposed to, I called the driver. They were just reaching the exit ramp of the freeway. They were only a few miles away. The phone line was still open when a big rig slammed into them. Later we found out that the truck driver had been driving for ten hours straight and had nearly missed the exit. He took it too fast. Lost control of the truck. It fishtailed.”

  Savannah pressed her hand against her mouth, suppressing a sob, while tears stung in her eyes. She knew how this story would end, but she knew John had to tell it.

  “I heard it all, and I heard Nicolette. She was still alive. I jumped into the closest car and raced to her. I got there within minutes. I was so close to saving her. So close. But the crash had punctured the gas tank.” He lifted his head to look straight at her, though Savannah wasn’t sure he saw her. “The limo exploded into a ball of fire in front of my eyes. It was an inferno. But I couldn’t give up. I ran toward it. Somehow I managed to pull her out of the burning car. But it was too late. She was already dead. And so was our son. I wanted to die then too. I wasn’t that lucky. My boss had followed me and stopped me.”

  “You must have loved her so much,” Savannah choked out.

  “I still do.” John rose and walked to the fireplace.