by Susanne Beck
"Why?" That one simple word covered a hundred emotions, a hundred further questions. Why then? Why now? Why this?
Her smile grew tender as she stripped off her gloves and led me to the bed to sit beside her. My body groaned out its thanks for the soft padding beneath it.
"It was something I had to do," she said softly, looking at the table in front of us.
"I don’t understand."
"I know."
"Then explain. Please. I thought I’d lost you."
"I know that, too." Her voice was faintly choked as she turned back to me, reaching out and grasping my hand, and pulling it into her lap. She kept her gaze focused on it, her thumb playing lightly over my knuckles, warming my chilled flesh with her touch. She cleared her throat. "When . . .I was in the hospital, recovering from my wounds, the warden . . .paid me a little visit. He told me that if anyone ever found out who was behind the shooting, or why Cavallo was even there in the first place, he’d make sure that you’d never see your appeal."
Her words, so softly spoken, froze me completely. "My God," I breathed.
"I knew right then that I could never go back. I needed to . . .take care of things so that his threat would never become a reality." She looked up at me, briefly, before looking down at our joined hands once again. "I was chained to the bed by a cuff around my ankle. But they put the cuff around a weak strut." She shrugged. "It wasn’t that difficult to take care of that problem. Then, it was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity." She took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "When it came, I ran."
"Where did you go?"
That quirky little half smile lifted the corner of her mouth. "I got a gun, from an old . . .friend. Then I went to Cavallo’s house." Her smile widened, went almost savage. "It was payback time."
I moaned softly and her eyes darted up to mine again, before looking down once more, her long lashes lowered. "Yeah. Well, I made may way over to his house and took out a couple of his ‘bodyguards’."
"Did you kill them?"
"Nah. They never even knew I was there. Just put ‘em to sleep for awhile. He was upstairs in his bed. Alone." She laughed dryly. "Could never even pay for a woman. Anyway, I walked in there, right up to his bed. I put the gun to his temple, thinking about what he did to Josephine, to Salvatore, to me. About what he, through Morrison, was gonna do to you."
Her hand left mine and curled into a tight fist. "I wanted to kill him so badly I could taste it. My finger was on the trigger—just a hair’s worth of pressure and it would have gone off, ending everything."
She tilted her head up toward the ceiling, her jaw working as she dragged her hands through her hair. "I couldn’t do it," she whispered, harshly. "I wanted to, God, so badly. I wanted to end his miserable, stinking little life." She sighed, shaking her head. "But I couldn’t."
"Why?"
"As I was standing there, watching him sleep, I thought about you." And here, her eyes came to rest, for the first time, on my face. She smiled slightly. "About that time when I had Cassandra’s life in my hands. I remembered you telling me not to give up on my dreams, how she wasn’t worth it. And I realized that if I went back to that person I used to be, the one who killed to get rid of my problems, that’s exactly what I would have done." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "My dreams might not be much, but they were all I had. And I couldn’t give them up. Not for him."
"Oh, Ice . . . ."
I reached out, and she took my hand in an almost desperate grip, holding it up to her chest. I could feel her heart thundering through the thin fabric of her simple cotton T-shirt.
"So, I walked away. I left him there, never knowing how close he came to never waking up at all. As I was leaving his house, I saw a notepad by the downstairs phone. The name of one of Salvatore’s favorite meeting spots, an Italian restaurant in Pittsburgh, was written on the pad, together with a time and Sal’s name written beneath. I knew it was a set-up, and I almost went back upstairs to finish the job."
"But you didn’t."
"No. I decided to give Sal a warning. I went over to his place; didn’t even know if he’d be in." She smiled crookedly again. "His guards weren’t surprised to see me, for some reason. I guess wind of my escape had gotten out by then. But they let me by without much trouble."
"Was he glad to see you?"
"Not really. I was heat he couldn’t afford. So I gave him my information, extended my condolences over Josephina’s death, and left. I can’t say he was sorry to see me go. And I wasn’t sorry to leave. I realized, right then, that that wasn’t a life I wanted to live anymore."
"What did you do?"
"Got on my bike and came out here. A couple of friends of mine own it." Her gaze encompassed the tiny room. "It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s safe enough, especially for someone like me."
"They had roadblocks set up all over looking for you. How in the world did you get past them?"
She smiled. "I think, at the time, they were more worried about who was coming in to town than who was going out. I knew Morrison would panic once he got word of my disappearance. I imagine a sizable chunk of the police force was guarding the Bog."
"They were. It looked like a policemen’s convention."
Ice laughed softly. "I also figured that Morrison wouldn’t dare to do anything to you with that much official business loitering around. He was hung by his own fears. I knew, too, that Salvatore would most likely take care of Cavallo if Cavallo tried to follow through on his planned hit. And if Cavallo fell, Morrison would fall with him."
"How did you know that?"
Her grin turned smug. "Who do you think planted those papers in his car?"
I gasped. "You didn’t."
Both eyebrows raised. "Oh, I did."
Shaking my head, I let out a short laugh. "I don’t know why I’m surprised."
"Anyway," she continued, "I hung out here and kept an eye on everything. I’m sure Cavallo knew I’d escaped before he went to try and take out Briacci. I have no idea what, other than ego, made him do it. But he got what he deserved, and so did Morrison."
Her smile became sad. "So, all I had left was to watch over you. I’ll admit I went out and got pretty drunk when I heard you were granted the re-trial."
"But how? Donita?" My temper flared. "Damn her! I . . . ."
"No. It wasn’t Donita. I’d never get her involved in something like this."
"Then who?"
Her silence gave me its own answer.
"Corinne," I said with growing certainty. "It was Corinne, wasn’t it."
Ice nodded, slowly.
I bolted from the bed, my hands fisted in anger. "God damn it! I can’t believe she would hide something like that from me!"
She held up her own hands. "Don’t blame her, Angel. I asked her to keep things quiet."
I turned on her. "But why?!? Ice, I thought you were dead! Do you know what I went through? Do you have any idea at all?!?!?"
Her gaze dropped back to the bed. "Yes," she said softly. "But it was the only thing I could do."
"But why?" I asked again. "Why couldn’t you just let me know that you were, at least, alive? What would that have done except ease my pain?" I was so angry, I was shaking.
"I wanted to, Angel. More than anything. But I couldn’t. This was your chance to get what you deserved: your freedom. And if you knew that I was out there, somewhere, and that came out somehow, they could charge you with aiding and abetting a fugitive, and that chance would have been lost."
She met my eyes again, her own searing with the intensity of her convictions. "Your freedom is worth more than anything in the world, Angel. I did what I did because I had to do it. I don’t expect you to understand, or forgive, my actions."
As I stared at her, my anger began to dissipate. Her actions were borne out of a deep love for me. That much I knew. And if I couldn’t forgive the pain she’d caused, at least I could understand it and accept it as her truth. Loosening my fists, I returned to sit nex
t to her on the bed, clasping her hand as she used the other to tenderly stroke my hair.
I smiled up at her. "So, ya spied on me, huh?" I asked, butting her shoulder with my head.
She crooked a grin back at me. "Somethin’ like that, yeah. And when Corinne called me with the verdict, I hopped on my bike and drove down there as fast as I could. I got there about a half hour before you stepped out of the Bog for the last time."
Her eyes closed. "Seeing you again, it made my heart crawl up in my throat. I love you so much." Pausing, she wiped the lone tear which had escaped from beneath her lashes. "I wasn’t going to talk to you, you know. I just wanted to see you one more time, make sure you got away safely. I would have made sure you had somewhere to stay until you were on your feet again. I suspect Donita offered."
I nodded. "Why wouldn’t you have said anything?" I couldn’t quite hide the hurt in my voice, and felt her stiffen beside me.
"Angel, you’re a free woman now. An innocent woman. You can go anywhere; do anything in this life that you want to. I couldn’t pull you back into my life, living on the run, always looking over your shoulder to wait for some police officer or simple citizen to recognize me."
She sighed. "But then, when I saw you in the park, when I saw the sunlight play across your hair, I couldn’t . . . . I couldn’t leave without telling you I loved you, without saying goodbye to you. You deserved that, at least. And then, when I had you in my arms, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let you go. No matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn’t. I know it isn’t fair to you, and I’m not asking you to be with me. I just know that I needed to say more than goodbye. I needed to explain things. I needed . . .I needed you not to hate me."
The look in her eyes, so lost, so infinitely sad, broke my heart into shattered fragments.
"Oh, Ice. I could never hate you. Don’t you know that by now?"
Her eyes were suddenly shy, and I caught a glimpse of the girl in that long ago photo. "I haven’t been loved unconditionally for a long time," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think I forgot what that was like. But your freedom . . . ."
Reaching up, I clasped her face between my hands, directing her to meet my eyes. "Ice, freedom means having the choice to decide what to do with your life. And that choice was made a long time ago. Being with you is where I want to be."
"But . . . ."
"No buts. My freedom has given me this choice, and I’m not backing down from it. You don’t have to understand it. You just have to accept it. Or not. And that is your freedom."
"I can’t let you give up your chance at a new life because of me, Angel. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, because believe me, I do."
I could feel my eyes narrow. "So, what you’re telling me is that I’m only as free as you’ll allow me to be, is that it?"
"Damn it, Angel! If you stay with me, you’ll only be putting yourself into yet another prison! Can’t you see that?"
Yes, she was angry. But this time . . .this time, I wasn’t afraid.
"Ice, the only prison I’d be going back to is the one you’d put me in by refusing to let me make my own decisions over what I want my life to be. There wouldn’t be any bars except for the ones around my heart. That’s a place I don’t ever want to go to. It would be a thousand times worse than the Bog could ever be." I grasped her hand and held it tightly, bringing our joined hands upward so she could plainly see them. "My life is with you, Morgan Steele. It has been since the first day I saw you. That won’t ever change, whether you let me stay with you or not."
For the first time since I’d known her, Ice looked frightened. It wasn’t a panic fright, to be sure, but she was scared. "I . . .can’t . . ."
I put my fingers over her lips. "Maybe not," I whispered. "But I can."
Leaning forward, I replaced my fingers with my lips, claiming her with all the love in my soul. After a moment, she responded, sinking her fingers into my hair and drawing me closer against her, to be engulfed by the scent of spices and leather. I was intoxicated.
Reaching behind me, I tossed my sack and Ice’s duffel from the bed, then, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, pulled her down to lay beside me, never breaking contact with her lips, which had opened under my tender probing, allowing me to explore to my heart’s content.
My hands worked with a sure dexterity on the unfamiliar zippers and buttons and buckles of her leather protection, needing beyond anything to feel the solid, living warmth of her.
She moaned at the first touch of my fingers on her skin and I let the full strength of my love and passion for this remarkable woman take me over. I went willingly into the light of my newfound freedom.
* * *
And so here I sit, writing while my lover sleeps bare feet away, her hair shining in the feeble light of the lamp above me. Her head is turned away from me, but I know without seeing that there is a smile on her lips. A smile I put there. That thought fills me with joy.
And in a moment, I’ll go back to lay beside her, and nestle up against the long length of her strong body and fall asleep to the music of her heart beneath my ear.
In just a moment.
We’ve decided to head out for Canada in the morning. To attempt to make a life on the land that gave me so much joy as a child. Getting over the boarder might prove difficult, but Ice is confident that we’ll make it.
The chance to share this dream place with her is all I could want in this world.
Some of you may be asking yourself why I would risk everything to live my life with a fugitive, always wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.
And to those questions, I can only give the answer my heart tells me is true. That if, by chance, that other shoe does drop, tomorrow or fifty years from now, I’ll know that I lived my life the way I wanted to. I made my own choices in this world and was happy with them. I loved, and was loved by, the other half of my soul. I wanted for nothing.
And truly, what else can you ask of the hand life deals you?
END
Well, folks, that concludes REDEMPTION. I thank everyone who has read this far for following along with me on this sometimes rocky journey. Thanks to the many people to took time out from their busy lives to drop me a line and let me know how the story was going for them. I was touched, gratified and overwhelmed by your responses. And thanks once again (a bard can really never say this enough) to my betas, particularly Mike and Candace, for all their help, support, loyalty, and love
So…who wants to see how Ice and Angel are doing up Canada way, huh? ;)
Sue
9/6/99
RETRIBUTION
Disclaimers
The characters in this novel are of my own creation. That’s right, this is an ‘uber’ story. It’s also a sequel to my novel, Redemption. You really will want to read that first before tackling this one. Some may bear a resemblance to characters we know and love who are owned by PacRen and Universal Studios.
Violence and Naughty Language Disclaimer: Yup, both. Not as much of either as in Redemption (I’m saving that up for "Restitution"), but there is some of each here.
Subtext Disclaimer: Yup, there’s that too. This piece deals with the love and physical expression of that love between two adult females. There are some graphic scenes located within this piece, but I have tried to make them as tasteful as possible so as to not offend anyone’s sensibilities. Let me know if I’ve succeeded.
Dedication: There are so many people to thank for this effort. First is Candace, who once again was there to read this novel in its entirety all in little AIM blocks of 50 characters or less. Her nightly feedback was sorely needed and gratefully received. Thanks also to MaryD and Lunacy for providing much needed and invaluable beta assistance. And, finally, a huge debt thanks to the self-proclaimed "Quillies" for
reading the beta version of this and giving insightful feedback as well as putting up with and calming a bard’s emotional roller-coaster of emotions. Thanks, guys!!
Feedback: As always, is most welcome. It not only makes this ‘job’ of writing (which is really a love) much easier, it also makes me better at it. And that is my goal. To become the best writer I can be. If the spirit moves you, you may reach me at [email protected] with any questions, concerns or comments.
Final Thought: Retribution is the second in what will eventually become a trilogy. Redemption, obviously, was first. Then Retribution, and finally Restitution. Thanks to everyone who gives up a little of their time to come along on this journey with me. I can only hope that I’ll never let you down.
Final Disclaimer: As with Redemption, this story will be posted in blocks of thirty or so pages per night. It is fully completed, down to the last punctuation mark, so I won’t leave you hanging. Promise.
RETRIBUTION
PART 1
IT WAS COLD. So cold.
And dark, like the bottom of a newly dug grave.
My whole body was numb; my heart, encased in a block of ice which promised never to thaw.
I could feel the rain around me, pelting down in almost horizontal sheets of stinging fire, driven on by the frenzy of an unholy wind.
A wooden shutter, torn askew by the power of the storm, slammed repeatedly against the weathered wooden siding, sounding a death-knell which rose even over the howling of the wind and the wailing of sirens. Sirens which, like the fog, crept closer and closer, not on cat’s feet, but on dragon’s bloody claws.
Lightening drew its spiky graph onto the sky, imprinting itself on my retinas.
Thunder cracked and rolled, pulling an inane thought to the forefront of my brain. God’s bowling with the angels again, my father’s voice said from somewhere beyond the grave.
