Besotted

by Madison Michael

  "Let's get you to a paramedic," the policewoman suggested kindly.

  “No, I need to know what happened.”

  “I can’t answer that, hon. I was sent me to search this building when someone reported shouts and banging sounds. You did a great job, by the way. For answers, you'll have to ask one of those men over there.” The policewoman pointed across the dark street full of police cars, fire trucks and paparazzi, to a cluster to men with their heads together.

  The group broke apart, and Regan recognized Wyatt's golden hair just before someone rushed across the street and took her into a tight embrace.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Tyler repeated. "I am never, ever, ever, letting you out of my sight again." Tyler wrapped her in a fierce embrace and held on tight, resting his chin on the top of her head, dropping small kisses on her hair, and hugging her as she cried and cried.

  “I can’t stop crying, now that it is over. It is over, right? Please tell me it’s all over.”

  "It's all over, Ree. Everyone is in custody. The money is safely back in your clients’ accounts. There is enough incriminating evidence to put them away for life, and we even got the ringleader."

  “What did they want with me?” Regan asked, her armed wrapped around Tyler's muscular body. Someone handed him a warm coat to wrap around Regan, but she continued to hold Tyler close.

  "Ransom. Insurance," Missy answered, disentangling her sister from Tyler and wrapping her in a loving embrace. "They expected the double-cross from Tyler. You were taken as collateral before anything ever went wrong."

  "They were on to us," Wyatt added. "Missy, let mom have her before she has a coronary."

  Regan was passed from family member to family member, checked from head to toe by the paramedics and repeatedly questioned by FBI and police until her father demanded they take this off the streets. Regan was shivering with cold and belated fear.

  "Can I please get some food?" she asked again for the umpteenth time. "I am starving. Bring me anything but a sandwich and orange juice. Anything."

  “Come home with me tonight, honey,” her mother suggested, “and I will feed you all night long. Anything you want.”

  "I just want meat, Mom, and a decent shower."

  "Then come home with me, Regan. You can have those, and food for the soul," Tyler told her in a low voice, rough with emotion.

  Regan didn't want to be alone, but she didn't admit it.

  Making light of the situation she did her best, but sorry imitation of Marlon Brando. "That, sir, sounds like an offer I can't refuse."

  “Please, no Godfather references tonight,” Tyler told her, kissing her temple, her nose and then her mouth. “We have had enough intrigue to last us all a lifetime.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tyler

  It was afternoon when Regan finally opened her eyes. She barely stirred in the bed before Tyler was there.

  “You’re awake?” he asked despite the obvious answer. “I didn’t disturb you did I? I was trying to be so still.”

  “What day is it?”

  "Usually people start with what time is it," Tyler teased gently. "It's Sunday, just after noon. You are done answering questions – for now – safe in my bed with nowhere you need to be."

  “It all feels like a bad dream right now,” Regan admitted, a slightly dazed look about her eyes.

  "Let me grab you some coffee, and we will work on easing you back into reality." Tyler jumped from the bed and padded down the hall on bare feet, returning with coffee just the way Regan liked it together with a blueberry muffin on a plate. "In case you're still hungry," he told her, pointing to the muffin.

  "I don't think I will eat again for days," Regan laughed. Tyler had stopped on the way to his place last night and bought her two huge cheeseburgers, fries and a chocolate milkshake from the Shake Shack. She had devoured the food in a most unladylike manner before combing his refrigerator and slicing some gouda and cheddar which she ate with a large Gala apple and a half a box of wheat crackers, before finally declaring herself full.

  Tyler enjoyed watching her eat, happy to see the fear leave her eyes bit by bit. He ran her a bath, but she insisted he stay with her in the bathroom.

  "Stay and explain everything I missed," she begged. Tyler knew she wanted the update but also suspected she was fearful of being alone this soon after her rescue.

  Tyler sat on the side edge of the tub, stroking Regan’s damp arm as she laid back in the steamy water. She asked questions about the sting that Tyler did his best to answer.

  “What went wrong?” she asked first, staring into his dark eyes with her blue ones, searching his face for the truth.

  "Nothing initially went wrong. We had the signatures we needed on the extradition and confession papers. Just as I anticipated, no one bothered to read what they were signing."

  “And the software?”

  “Worked perfectly.” Tyler reached to take the shampoo from Regan and poured a small amount into his hand before massaging it into her scalp with long slow strokes. Regan sank deeper into the bath with a satisfied groan. "They ran a test just as we knew they would, checked to make sure the money transfer went through, which of course it did. The FBI grabbed them, the laptop and the paperwork before they took one step into the lobby and we thought we were home free."

  “They didn’t spot all those extra security guards?” Regan asked, her eyes closed as Tyler used the hand-held sprayer to rinse her hair free of the suds he had created.

  "Half the people were in place the night before. Even I didn't spot anyone out of the ordinary when I came in that morning, but the place was swarming with people. I wish you could have seen it."

  A sad, lost look came into Regan's face. "Me too. I would have much rather been there."

  Tyler cupped Regan's cheek. "I am so damn sorry, Ree. I would never have willingly risked your safety. I swear."

  "I know. I shouldn't have said it like that. I wish I could have seen all the action. Wyatt told the story like he single-handedly captured these guys."

  Wyatt had allowed Tyler to take his sister home, probably because he knew Tyler would win that argument, but he stayed by Regan's side through all the questioning and paramedic exams before finally letting Tyler take her for food. The whole time, he entertained Regan with embellished versions of the week's events.

  “He did great. Ivy looked cool and calm. I was a wreck," Tyler admitted.

  Regan slipped her head out of Tyler's hand, giving him the biggest smile he had seen since her escape. She reached up to wrap her hands around his neck, pulling his face close to hers for a kiss.

  "I am sure you played your part perfectly, cowboy. Think of what you have done. You have collapsed a notorious Russian hacking group, blackmailers, and probably killers, and kept them here for trial. That's amazing."

  "And rescued the damsel in distress," Tyler added, bending down to kiss Regan once again before moving away to reach for a bath sheet.

  "I guess, technically, you rescued yourself. You were unbelievably brave, Regan."

  "I wasn't brave. I was desperate. I was getting frantic. And hungry." Regan was trying to laugh it off, but Tyler would have none of it.

  "I feel terrible about what you went through, babe. I am just grateful they didn't hurt you." He was baring his soul, gratitude, love and residual fear written on his face.

  "You and me both," Regan added with a weak laugh. She stepped out of the tub and Tyler wrapped her in the oversized towel and his arms, lightly patting her damp skin with the towel to gently dry her. She took the sheet from him, turned to kiss him and then moved away to the mirror to comb her wet hair.

  “I look like I saw a ghost,” she spoke over her shoulder to Tyler who was mesmerized watching her do these simple tasks.

  “Well, I am here to scare all ghosts away from now on.”

  “No more intrigue, please Ty. I don’t think I can take it.”

  "Me either," Tyler told her. "I want to be with you, make
a quiet little life together and have a family. Work for you?"

  “Oh shit,” Regan responded.

  "Oh, shit? I ask you to build a life with me, and that's your reply?" Tyler looked crestfallen.

  “I need to go back to Washington. I have a fiancé there. I need to get rid of him and soon.”

  "Poor Brandon. He's been trying to contact me for four days," she admitted. "Although he didn't look for me when I didn't reply. He doesn't deserve me," she laughed.

  "Oh shit," Tyler echoed, "no one ever called Brandon to tell him you were missing. Now he'll hear it on the news."

  Tyler almost convinced Regan to allow him to return to DC with her, reminding her that he promised not to let her out of his sight. Regan insisted she needed to do this alone and promised to be quick about it. They laid out a timetable for Regan to recover at home for a few days, then go to DC, sever her ties, pack up and return to Chicago. She said she needed a week, but Tyler argued her down to four days, by which time she was barely able to stay awake.

  Tyler tucked her in his bed like a child, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to his chest. He listened as her breathing slowed and she fell into a deep slumber before allowing himself to relax and sleep too.

  Now, almost twelve hours later she looked much better, rested and less haunted by the last few days’ events. She sat in the bed, wearing one of his old Cornell t-shirts, hair tousled and sticking every which way from sleeping on it wet, and he thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  “I love you, Ree. I have always loved you,” he told her in a voice husky with emotion. “If anything had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself. I mean it.”

  "I know, Tyler. I am safe."

  " I want to be with you, Ree. I meant what I said last night about settling down and starting a family right away. We have waited long enough."

  “Sweetheart,” Regan said, snuggling into Tyler’s arms. “I think I need to get rid of one fiancé before I take on another, don’t you?”

  “I have no problem with that, Ree. But I am happy to skip the fiancé part and go straight to husband. Just name the time and place, and I'll be there.”

  "And deny my mother a big society wedding? Are you nuts? I just escaped with my life here, Ty. Why would I give my mother a reason to murder me?"

  “Good point,” Tyler conceded before pulling Regan down flat on the bed and kissing her to the point of breathlessness. “But no long engagements, Regan Howe. Promise me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Regan

  If Regan were even a bit less empathetic, she might have trouble controlling her laughter. But she put herself in Brandon's shoes as he squirmed his way out of their engagement, and maintained a serious demeanor.

  Regan had come to dinner prepared to take the lead and break off their plans, but, in typical Brandon fashion, he controlled the evening from the start. She knew by his choice of a quiet out of the way place instead of his usual high-visibility selection that something was up. He never went anywhere unless he was sure to shake a few hands and get his photo snapped. Publicity and donors, that was Brandon’s life. Regan, it was clear, no longer was.

  Now that they were seated in a corner under low light, Brandon was busy tripping over his tongue. Regan sat quietly, twirling the gorgeous engagement ring on her left hand that she knew would vacate her finger in a matter of minutes.

  "I was appalled by the scandal," Brandon was saying when Regan returned her attention to him. "And it was unfair for them to drag you into it. After all, you did nothing wrong here, Regan. Nothing." Brandon took a sip of his expensive cabernet and took a breath.

  Regan took advantage of the break in Brandon’s lecture to lean forward and confess. “I did allow them to use my company for their sting operation, Brandon. I was fully aware of what they were doing,” Each time he reiterated her innocence and became indignant on her behalf, Regan put herself back into the equation.

  "But you had no choice, right? You were backed into a corner."

  "I am a CEO Brandon; I always have a choice unless the board overrides me. I don't know when you changed your opinion of me so dramatically. I am not anyone's pawn."

  “I wasn’t saying you were, Regan. I know how smart and talented you are.”

  “Do you?” Regan challenged. “I used to believe that you did, Brandon, but lately, I have felt my career sidelined for yours. You say and do these little things that treat my work as having less importance than yours.”

  “Regan,” Brandon placated, “I helped you get a crucial position at CDFI. Of course, when I am in the White House, when we have a family, things will be different. We both understood that.”

  “Did we? I think perhaps we have been thinking differently lately. I always wanted to be a wife and mother, but I never said I would be content living in anyone’s shadow. And now there is this scandal. Brandon, I understand that my involvement in these arrests creates an uncomfortable problem for you. You have no idea how awful I feel to put you in the spotlight like this.” She sat back against the upholstered seat and controlled her smile behind a sip of cabernet. Regan hoped that her little speech might help Brandon along.

  Brandon took the bait. “Exactly, Regan, it puts me in a bad light through no fault of yours or mine. But with elections coming up I can't afford this type of press coverage. It's very damning." Brandon's upper lip had a sheen of perspiration. Regan wondered if she had ever seen him sweat. Only once, the first time he outright asked Wyatt for money instead of dancing around the topic.

  “You understand the way the electorate will think,” he continued, running a hand through his short hair. “They will see my fiancé involved with Russian blackmailing and embezzlement and they won’t understand the nuances.”

  "Right, they won't understand that we were cooperating to catch the bad guys. I see how complex that is," Regan looked down at her plate knowing that if she avoided eye contact, Brandon would entirely miss the sarcasm in her voice. He always underestimated his constituency. They had argued about it more than once.

  “Exactly. This scandal will stay with us forever. Years from now when I am talking taxes, this scandal will be all over the internet again. You see the problem, don’t you?”

  Finally, Brandon stopped talking, having given Regan the setup she required. She pulled the 9-carat diamond from her finger, noting that it slid off quickly as if it had never been part of her. "Well then, I guess I need to give you this back and free you up from the gossip." Regan passed the ring across the table, catching the tablecloth briefly, unsnagging it and sliding it just next to his wine glass. Brandon looked at the ring but didn’t pick it up.

  "You are breaking our engagement?" Panic contorted his features. "Not so fast, Regan. I didn't say we should split up." A whiny tone entered his voice that Regan found particularly unattractive. It gave her the impetus to end this thing now and stop dragging it out.

  "Then just what have you been saying, Brandon?" she asked in a hard voice. "I would argue that you have been breaking up with me for the last ten minutes. I understand your position. We need to go our separate ways." There was no remorse in Regan's voice, no hesitancy, a fact that still hadn’t registered with Brandon.

  "I need this scandal to go away, Regan, but not you. After all, the Howe family is a powerful force in my campaign. I am counting on our relationship and your family's financial backing. If we break things off now…"

  Brandon finally understood that he had boxed himself into a corner and shut his mouth with a snap. He looked somewhat fish-like, odd for such a handsome man. Regan watched as the realization crossed his face, lodging a grim frown in place of the fish face.

  "A tough choice is ahead of you, Brandon. Stay engaged for access to my family name and money, or split to avoid being linked to my scandal. You can't have it both ways, Brandon."

  Looking up from her plate and straight into Brandon's eyes, Regan squared her shoulders and sat straighter in her chair. "You c
an't have your cake and eat it too, Brandon. So, let me make this easier for you. My family is not planning to invest heavily In your campaign. I have warned them off of you now that I am wiser and see you for the mooch you are. I am not going to be your sugar-mama, so you should disconnect from me and this scandal and spend your time and energy looking for a new rich patsy. Perhaps there is a Rockefeller daughter available. We moneyed women are interchangeable, right?"

  Regan felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders and stood almost as if lifted from the lightness. Finally having accused Brandon, Regan felt free from lying and from wondering. Seeing the truth of it on his face had embarrassed her for only a split second. He may have played her for a fool, but Regan was getting out before it was too late. She squared her shoulders and stood to her full 5'8" plus heels, towering over Brandon who remained seated.

  "Besides, Brandon," Regan said in a voice that carried across the nearby tables causing Brandon to cringe. "I don't love you, and I know you don't love me. So let me wish you luck and say goodbye. Oh, and let me get the check," she ended, reaching for it as she moved to go.

  Regan walked away head held high, settled the bill and stepped into the fresh air. She stood there a moment not sure what to do next. She knew that tomorrow’s papers would carry the story of the breakup. Reporters would get a quote from someone stating that Regan, not Brandon, had broken it off. He would hate that. Aw, too bad. How had she ever believed she was in love with him?

  Love. She knew the real thing now. Taking a deep breath, she reached for her phone to let Tyler know she was finally a free woman. At long last, they would be able to be together, only twenty years later than planned.