by Ivy Nelson
The wine glass twirled on the table as she rolled the stem between her fingers. “So… It’s like a long-term hook up?”
“If that’s how you want to look at it, sure. Do we need a label for two adults enjoying each other?”
She reached for the bottle and poured them both more wine. “You make it sound so simple.”
“That’s because it is, Angel. Look, I get that we live in D.C. where nothing is ever as it seems, but I promise you, this really is that simple.”
“The week we had was fun. It really was. I wouldn’t mind experiencing more of that.”
“You owe me two more days anyway,” he said with a wink. “We can definitely arrange that.”
“Do we have to do the whole complete submission thing though? I mean. I liked it sometimes but other times your bossiness just pissed me off.”
Laughter erupted and shook him. “Oh, but when you give yourself to me completely, I can take you so many places. But no, it doesn’t have to be that way if you don’t want.” He picked up her hand. “Or, you could try communicating with me. Tell me when my bossiness is irritating you. We’ll work it out together because there is likely a reason why it’s bugging you and we can fix it.”
She seemed to be contemplating his words as she twirled the wine glass in her fingers again. “OK,” she said after a minute.
“OK? What does that mean, Angel?”
“It means, OK. I’m willing. Being with you this week but not being with you has sucked. If I’m going to get kicked out of the country I might as well enjoy my last week here, right?”
“You amaze and delight me, Angel.”
A blush colored her cheeks as she shrugged at his compliment.
He shoveled more of her delicious dinner into his mouth.
“Now what?” she asked, moving her food around on her plate again.
“Now you finish your dinner. You’ve hardly eaten any of it, and you’ll need your strength for later.” He flashed her a wolfish grin and he watched her relax. Then she stabbed a vegetable and popped it in her mouth. “Good girl,” he said.
When they finished the meal, Michael picked up both their plates and carried them to the sink.
“Go in the living room and wait for me. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
She didn’t say anything, just grabbed her wine glass and headed into the living room. He stood at the sink rinsing dishes and devised a plan for all the devilish things he wanted to do to the angel in the next room. It would be his mission to give her as many pleasurable experiences as he possibly could in the next week. He didn’t want to lose his optimism that she would stay here, but he also knew there was a chance he was wrong.
When he finished the dishes, he shut off the water and grabbed his own glass. In the living room, he found Adara on the couch with her legs tucked under her. She was reading the book he had suggested to her what seemed like a lifetime ago. He smiled. This was going to be a delight. He couldn’t wait to peel her dress off her and explore her body again. He wanted to find every spot that made her squirm and torment her with sensation until she was begging for some relief. Would he be benevolent and grant her an orgasm quickly or would he drag it out for a while? Frustrated Adara was cute, so he was leaning toward dragging it out. But Adara after an orgasm was sinfully hot, so he was a winner either way.
“Good book?” he asked, keeping his tone casual. He chuckled when she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Sorry. Wasn’t trying to startle you.”
She smiled when she looked up at him. “It’s fine. Just lost in the words. Yes, it’s enlightening.”
“You’ll have to tell me how later.” He crossed the room and plucked the book out of her hands. “I’ve waited long enough to touch you. Stand up,” he ordered gruffly.
She swung her legs out from under her and off the couch. When she was standing, he pulled her into his arms for a scorching kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair as she opened to him without reservation. He could feel her losing herself in their kiss and he wanted nothing more than to tear her dress off and take her here on the couch. Screw the plans he’d been making. The kiss was so frantic and heated it felt—and sounded—like his heart was going to pound out of his chest.
Wait. That wasn’t his heart. Fuck. Someone was pounding on the door.
“I know you’re in there. I see the lights on.” It was a woman’s voice. He broke the kiss and brushed Adara’s hair back from her face.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he headed to the door.
“OPEN THE DAMN DOOR,” the voice yelled, louder this time.
“Jesus Christ. What’s going on?” Michael demanded, flinging open the door.
“I found Adara’s birth mom.”
13
♥♥♥
Carrie Mercer stood on Michael’s front porch. Behind her was a bewildered security guard and a seemingly irritated Peter.
“Sorry, man. I tried to get her to call first. But I told you, there is no reasoning with her when she gets like this,” Peter said from behind the very excited woman.
Adara watched in confusion and amusement. It took a moment for her to register exactly what Carrie had just said. When it clicked, she rushed to the door just in time for Carrie to say, “Bite me, Sir. This is important.” Peter’s scowl deepened and Adara couldn’t help but think that Carrie was about to get into trouble.
“You’re lucky you threw a Sir in there,” he said with a growl. Carrie’s demeanor changed immediately, and Peter seemed satisfied. “Well, we’re here now, little one. Spit it out.”
Michael stood back and opened the door wider. “Come in. Please. Tell us what you’ve found.”
When the door was shut, Carrie plopped down on the living room floor in front of Michael’s coffee table. Adara followed and sat on the couch, watching as the excited blonde scattered papers all over the surface. It looked like chaos, but Carrie seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
“I found her, Adara. I fucking found her. I need solid proof, but I know it’s her, and I know I can get it.” Pages were scattering everywhere as she continued to slap papers down on the table. Most appeared to be scans of old newspaper articles. “She was a hostage. And she was a U.S. citizen. Look, look,” she said motioning to the papers.
Adara picked one up still not fully understanding what she was looking at. But for the first time since she was picked up at the airport, she felt a glimmer of hope. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to slow down and explain. I’m not following.”
“Sorry. Master says I get too excited for my own good. Let me show you.” She picked up a piece of paper. “This is a list of all the hostages. Three died before the rescue. Jeff Scott, Harold Gibson, and Adara Gabai.” Adara’s eyes went wide when Carrie said the final name. “I’m positive that Adara was your birth mother. Based on the journal your mom gave us, Faisal Hadawi took a liking to her not long after the hostage crisis began. The bastard kept her separate from the others and soon she became pregnant. When the baby—you—were born, you were given to two of the other hostages to care for. Those hostages were Daniel and Ruth Kent. Though they went by different names then. You had colic and cried a lot. It apparently bothered Hadawi. It’s thought that your mother died not too long after giving birth which was just days before the rescue operation that brought you and your parents home.
Your parents lied to the military and said they had gotten pregnant with you during the hostage situation. It seemed reasonable because the hostages were kept in bedrooms and had plenty of alone time. The story they told is that they used sex to comfort each other. Carrie was putting more articles in front of Adara, but she wasn’t paying attention to them. She was however hanging on to every word that Carrie spoke.
“I’ve found her college yearbook picture, Adara. Look at this.” Adara’s hand flew to her mouth and Michael’s arm was around her in an instant. It was as if she were staring at a picture of herself. “I told you we found her. There is no way a judge ignores this. Bu
t if this isn’t enough for him, I have journal entries from other hostages. It’s all here. I think she’s buried where the hostages were held, so DNA evidence is out unless we find a relative. You’re legally an American citizen though.”
Adara reached for the photo that Carrie still held. Tears were streaming down her face now. For eight years she had wondered who her real parents were. The information her mom and dad had given her was scant and gave her no real direction for figuring it out. They had never mentioned that they were hostages for over a year. How awful it must have been for them to carry that secret.
“I don’t understand. How did I not know my parents were hostages?”
Michael handed her a tissue as Carrie began straightening the mess she had made on the coffee table.
“When they first arrived back in the states, they were bombarded by the press and the government. There was a lot of pressure to be in the public eye. Especially since they had supposedly given birth to you while being held hostage. They couldn’t take it, and they didn’t want you to grow up with that hanging over your head. Especially with the lie they had told. They changed their names and moved to Arizona where they tried to give you a quiet life. They named you Adara to honor your birthmother, but that’s the only part of the hostage crisis they brought home.”
Adara was floored. “I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’ll answer as many as I can, but I think we need to start with your attorney and the judge in your case. If we’re lucky, he’ll throw the whole case out without a trial and your citizenship will be reinstated without limitations.”
Adara nodded. Yes. “That sounds good.” Despite her words, she didn’t move from the sofa. Michael had remained quiet through the whole conversation. Just being a quiet source of support for her. She turned to him now. “I don’t know what to do next.”
He smiled and gently kissed her forehead. “Give me your phone, Angel. Let’s call your lawyer.” She stood and looked around the room. Dazed. No clue where her phone was. Michael sighed and stood with her. “Sit back down. I’ll get it.” She sat. This didn’t seem real. Her mother had been raped by a terrorist, died in or soon after childbirth, and she had been given to another pair of hostages because she cried too much? It was like a movie. Michael was back with her phone now and had it pressed to his ear.
“That’s right. We have some pretty solid evidence and we can get more if we need to.” He paused for a moment to listen. “We appreciate it. We’ll be here. I’ll text you the address.” He ended the call and handed Adara her phone.
“Text her my address. She’s going to head over now.”
What happened next was a whirlwind of events. They moved to the kitchen when the attorney arrived, and she began pouring over everything Carrie laid out for her.
“Wow, Mrs. Mercer. This is pretty incredible. Great work.”
“Carrie please. Mrs. Mercer is my mother-in-law.” Carrie grimaced. There was apparently no love lost between Carrie and her husband’s mother. Tabitha Kelly just chuckled and didn’t seem to notice the rise in tension.
“I’m going to file an emergency motion to get this case thrown out immediately. With this much evidence, there is no reason to go forward with a hearing.”
“What are the odds the judge rules in our favor on a motion like that? What objections will the prosecutor have?” Adara asked.
“I don’t think there will be any. There does seem to be some animosity toward Adara from Homeland but it’s in the courts hands right now so they can’t affect anything. The prosecutor may object on principal without any DNA evidence but hopefully the judge won’t listen to that.”
Adara’s eyes watered again but she brushed the tears away. She had cried too much already. Michael stood behind the kitchen chair she was sitting in and was massaging her neck and shoulders gently.
“I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m so happy and so sad all at the same time. My poor mother.” In that moment, she wasn’t sure which mother she was referring to. Both the woman who birthed her and the woman who raised her had endured so much. But so many things were clearer now that she knew more of the story. How was she supposed to process all of this? It was overwhelming. But hopefully tomorrow she would have the burden of immigration court off her shoulders. Once that was behind her, she could focus on finding out more about her mother, and yes, her father. Thoughts of the terrible things he was known to have done sent a shudder through her, but it was still prudent to know who he was and where she came from. What if she had kids someday? Medical history was important. When the chaos died down, and Carrie, Peter, and Tabitha had all left, Adara sat at the kitchen table staring at everything Carrie had left for her.
What if the judge wanted DNA evidence? How was she supposed to get that with her mother buried in another country? She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. Michael sat across the table watching her. She smiled up at him as she gathered the scattered papers and stacked them in front of her.
“I’m sorry your plans for me got derailed.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious right now? We just got potentially the best news ever. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. My plans can wait.”
His understanding comforted her.
“Thank you for that. Do you mind if I go to my room and read more of this stuff? I’m too excited to sleep, but I’m feeling exhausted.”
“Of course, Angel. Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.” He stood and offered his hand as she picked up the stack of papers. Grasping his outstretched hand, they meandered down the hall. Once in the guest bedroom, she set the papers down and turned to face him.
“I’m glad you were here for me today,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist.
His arms circled her and hugged her tightly and he planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m glad too.”
With one arm still around her, he lifted her chin to look at him. “You’re special to me, Angel. I didn’t like the thought of losing you.” One more kiss settled gently on her cheek before he said, “I’ll leave you to your reading.”
It was nearly two in the morning before Adara fell asleep. She was bleary eyed but full of hope when her attorney went into the judge's chambers without her the next morning. Unfortunately, the hope didn’t last long.
“The judge denied our motion. Says we can present our evidence at trial and it’s not enough to warrant throwing out the case,” Tabitha said when she emerged from the judge's office and sat next to Adara on the bench she had been waiting on. “The only thing he would throw it out for is evidence as equally compelling as the DNA test that got us here in the first place, meaning we’re going to have to find a way to link you to your mother through DNA.”
“How are we supposed to do that if she’s dead and buried in another country?” Adara asked as the knot of panic that had formed in her belly grew stronger.
“Hopefully some of your mother’s relatives are still alive. Looks like we need Carrie Mercer again,” Tabitha said. “I could work on tracking some of them down, but she’s probably already got leads she can follow up on.”
Michael already had his phone out. Carrie was all too happy to help and offered to meet them back at Michael’s house. When they got there, she was waiting at the front door without Peter who was apparently working on something else.
“Got any coffee?” she asked as soon as Adara and Michael were out of the car. “Master took my energy drinks and hid them,” she said with a pout.
Michael just shook his head as he unlocked his front door.
In the kitchen, Adara sat at the table expecting Carrie to follow, but she set up her laptop on the island instead.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit at the table?” Adara asked while Michael brewed coffee.
“Not really,” she said as she started punching keys on her laptop. “Apparently even though I added Sir, telling Master to bite me was inappropriate.�
�� She flashed air quotes as she said the last word. From across the kitchen, Michael roared with laughter.
“You had to have known that wasn’t going to end well for you.”
“I think it ended perfectly well for me,” she said with a grin and a wink. Adara stared, open mouthed. Michael set coffee on the island next to Carrie and threw Adara a wink of his own.
“Thanks,” Carrie said, sipping the coffee with a groan. “Let’s see what we have here. I know your mother had at least one sister. No idea if she’s still alive. Let’s find out.”
For the next hour, Carrie stood at her computer and held an animated conversation with herself that amused Michael and Adara. Amusing or not, it worked. By the time she was done, Carrie had learned that Adara’s aunt was indeed still alive and in an assisted living facility in Pennsylvania.
“Do we just ask for her DNA? What’s the procedure here?” Adara asked.
“We can start with asking. If that doesn’t work, we can get a court order. Peter can send one of his investigators to ask, though it might be better coming directly from you.”
“I would prefer Adara not leave town but if I need to, I’ll take her.” Irritation flashed in Adara at the way Michael spoke for her, but she let it slide. For now.
• • •
For the second time in less than a week, Michael sat with Adara while they waited for her attorney to come out of a meeting with the judge. After Peter sent one of his investigators to Pennsylvania and successfully collected a DNA sample, they had rushed to get the results back. Much to everyone’s delight, the results were what they had hoped. Adara was in fact the daughter of Adara Gabai, a hostage and American citizen killed in a hostage crisis from thirty years ago. Tabitha Kelly filed another emergency motion to throw out the case.
They were much more hopeful about this one. No longer caring about optics, Michael sat with his arm slung around Adara and she rested her head against his shoulder.
