by Banks, R. R.
Maybe it’s because he’s a fellow vet, but I’ve always had a soft spot for the guy. I’ve taken him to lunch, have even intervened when he was getting hassled by the cops. I think he’s a good guy who’s just had some shit luck. That, and a government that isn’t holding up their end of the bargain when it comes to caring for those who put their lives on the line for their country.
I’ve tried to get him into programs, various shelters – hell, I’ve even tried to rent an apartment for him. Billy is a man whose stubbornness is as ingrained in him as his pride. He won’t let me do much of anything for him, always telling me he’ll get back on his feet and turn his life around. He’s been telling me that for the last few years now. It breaks my heart, but I can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.
“Hey, Mr. Vaughn,” says the older black man.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Knox?” I grin.
He smiles and nods at Felicity, then turns his eyes back to me. “About time you found yourself a beautiful and intelligent woman. Makes up for your shortcomings,” he chuckles, extending his hand to her. “Sergeant William Meadows, ma’am.”
Felicity smiles and takes his hand in hers. “Felicity –”
“Oh, I know who you are, ma’am,” he says. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m sorry I’m not more presentable.”
Felicity looks from him to me and back again. “How do you –”
“Given that my social calendar isn’t exactly full, I have a lot of time to read,” Billy explains. “Your book is the best thing I’ve read in a long time.”
Her cheeks flush and her smile is wide. “Thank you,” she says. “That means a lot.”
“When’s your next book due out?” he presses.
She rolls her eyes. “Hopefully not too long. But I’ve had a lot going on, and I’m behind on my next manuscript to the publisher – sorry,” she laughs. “Hopefully soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Billy smiles.
I pull a hundred dollar bill out of my pocket and press it into Billy’s hand. “Get yourself something to eat. Maybe a room for the night, man.”
Billy smiles. “You’re a good man, Mr. Vaughn.”
“Knox.”
“Mr. Vaughn.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Have it your way,” I tell him. “Just get some food in you.”
He nods. “Thank you. Appreciate it, Mr. Vaughn. As always,” he says, then smiles at Felicity. “Keep him out of trouble, Ms. Manson.”
“That’s a full-time job,” she cracks.
“She ain’t lyin’,” Billy cackles. “And you keep turning out those books. I see big things for you.”
Felicity gives him a demure smile, and we walk on, touring the rest of the park. She elbows me in the ribs, and when I look down at her, she plants a kiss on me.
“You big softy,” she says. “You definitely have a heart of gold.”
“Shut up,” I laugh.
I take her to my favorite sculpture in the park. We stand before the piece, admiring it for a long moment. The piece – made of stacked rifles, boots, dog tags, and a tattered American flag – never fails to stir my emotions. It reminds me of what went wrong that day in the marketplace in Afghanistan. Of everybody I lost. It’s a reminder to me of my own mortality and the fragility of life. It reminds me just how quickly it can be snatched away from you.
“You come here to mourn your friends,” Felicity notes. “Or to beat yourself up for losing them.”
“Actually, I come here to remember to live,” I correct her. “Their deaths remind me that time is short in this life. I want to pour every ounce of meaning and life into the years I have.”
She lays her head on my shoulder again, and we stand there for another few minutes before we tour the rest of the park. We say goodnight to Billy and head out. The second we step outside the sheltered enclave of the park, though, we’re assaulted by the blindingly bright flash of a camera spotlight. We both shield our eyes as a man with a microphone steps forward.
“Felicity, Arnold Draber here from Eye on Seattle,” he shouts, despite being two feet in front of us. “Care to go on record about your stalker?”
Tightening my grip on her hand, I lead Felicity down the sidewalk. The piece of shit paparazzi and his cameraman follow us, peppering her with questions about her stalker and about our relationship. The harder we try to ignore them, the more insistent and bolder they get. With her head hunched down and her eyes on the ground, Felicity looks scared – which pisses me off to no end.
Spinning around on my heel, I let go of Felicity and square off with the asshole holding the mic. I take a menacing step toward him. He takes a corresponding one back. He’s clearly not a man used to having his subjects turn on him like this.
“Get the fuck out here. She has no comment and will never have a comment for a piece of shit like you,” I growl. “Leave her alone. Do you understand me?”
“I have a right to ask questions,” he shouts over me. “It’s my First Amendment right.”
“Yeah? Well let me show you my Second Amendment solution.”
I reach around to the small of my back and watch his eyes grow wide. He and his cameraman turn tail and flee, running down the street like we’d lit their ass on fire. I turn around and see Felicity staring at me wide eyed, her face drawn and pale.
“Are you carrying a gun?” she asks.
I laugh. “No,” I tell her and lift my shirt to prove it. “But they didn’t know that.”
Her look of horror fades away, and she laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world. But then her laughter stops abruptly, and she stares at me again.
“What if they go to the cops? Tell them you threatened them with a gun?”
I plant a soft kiss on her lips. “Stop worrying. First, they’ve got the tape that clearly shows I didn’t draw down on them,” I say. “Second, I’ve got a concealed carry permit. I only carry when I’m on a case, though.”
She kisses me again then smiles as she looks into my eyes. “You are a very smart man.”
“Yes. Yes I am,” I tease.
She laughs and punches me in the shoulder. Arm in arm, we walk down the street to the car. I can see she’s troubled by something and is doing her best to hide it. I have a feeling I know what it is – that piece of shit tabloid sleaze kicked up all the dust about Elliott Graham again.
It’s been a little while since we’ve heard anything from him. No threatening notes, no sign of him lurking in the shadows – there’s simply been no trace of the man. And while Felicity is cautiously optimistic that it’s over and that he’s moved on – and indeed, Maura is using it as a talking point in trying to get her to drop the protective detail – the longer his silence goes on, the more ominous it seems to me.
A guy like that isn’t going to just up and disappear. He’s not going to give up until he’s forced to give up. I’ve been carrying around the feeling that he’s still out there trying to work up the nut to make a play. He just hasn’t found the right opening to pull the trigger. I have a feeling it’s coming, though. I have a feeling it’s coming soon.
It’s why I have some wheels already in motion on a pre-emptive strike. And given Haley’s text to me earlier, those plans are bearing some fruit. I just need to meet with her so we can chart a course of action.
I am going to take Elliott Graham off the board. One way or another, I’m going to make sure he never bothers Felicity again so that she has nothing to ever be afraid of.
That’s my pledge.
That’s my vow.
Felicity
“Are you sure? I mean, are they sure?”
I look up at Dani, still in a state of stunned disbelief, unable to even form a sentence at the moment. Her eyes are wide, and she leans closer, grabbing my hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze. I shake my head, a thousand questions firing through my brain all at once.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I mean, yeah they’re sure. I
t’s conclusive.”
“But how?”
I shake my head again. “We were so safe. We took precautions.” Then groan as I try to remember if we ever forgot to use a condom.
For the last few days, I’ve been feeling nauseous and exhausted for no reason, and I’ve noticed some spotting. It worried me enough that I went down for a routine checkup. I’d figured it was just the flu or something benign. But when Dr. Hadley told me they’d found HCG – human chorionic gonadotropin – in my blood, it confirmed my pregnancy.
I’m pregnant. My god, I’m pregnant. I honestly never thought I would say those two words about myself. But here I am. Pregnant. I’m fucking pregnant.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I bury my face in my hands.
“You have to tell him,” Dani urges. “This is something you two need to figure out together.”
“He doesn’t want kids,” I moan. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell him.”
Dani pulls my hands down and forces me to look her in the eye. I’m shaking and my pulse is racing. I feel like I’m going to throw up just sitting there. Jesus Christ, in the span of a few weeks, I’ve managed to make a mess of my life.
“Felicity, if he’s the stand-up guy you think he is, he’ll come through,” she encourages me. “It’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“It’s not going to be fine,” I wail. “Nothing is going to be fine.”
I jump up from the couch and pace her living room, folding my arms across my chest, trying to figure out what I’m going to do. I’m going to see Knox tonight, and he’s going to notice something’s wrong. He always knows when something’s wrong. The man can see right through me.
Plus, I’m sure the guy he’s got watching me today is going to tell him I was upset. After I got the call from my doctor, telling me my entire life is about to change, I had him take me to Dani’s, and I hadn’t been able to hide the fact I was upset. He had the decency to not comment on it, but I know he’s going to mention it to Knox. They report everything to him. It’s part of their job, I guess.
Dani is sitting on the couch, her elbows on her knees, hands folded in front of her, staring at me with a look of concern on her face. It’s actually more a look of fear on her face – which isn’t helping the situation any.
“You have to tell him,” Dani encourages me.
“I don’t even know how to tell him.”
I pace back and forth in front of the window, my mind spinning about a thousand miles an hour. We just started seeing each other. Our relationship is barely six weeks old, and now I have to somehow tell him I’m pregnant?
“Fuck. Everything in my life has been going so good for me,” I roar. “I knew something was going to screw everything up. I fucking knew it.”
Dani gets on her feet and throws her arms around me, pulling me tightly to her. I bury my face in her shoulder and start to sob, my entire body shaking with the effort. She squeezes me tighter and lets me cry.
Eventually, I’m able to pull myself together. I stand up, wiping the tears from my eyes. I give her a shaky smile and take a deep breath. I know she’s right. I need to tell Knox. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it. The mere thought of it terrifies me, since I know it’s going to blow up the relationship we’re trying to build.
I look at my watch and sigh. “I’m late for a lunch date with Peter.”
“I’m here for you, Felicity,” she says. “If you need anything, just call me, okay?”
I squeeze her tight and smile. “Thanks, Dani. Love you.”
“Love you too, hon.”
“Everything okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Fine.”
We’re sitting in Peter’s office when his assistant comes in and sets a couple of bags on his desk. I look from them to him questioningly.
“We’re not going out for lunch?” I ask.
“I have an emergency session coming in,” he explains. “I figured we’d just eat in. That okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Great.”
He looks at me for a long moment and purses his lips. But he doesn’t say anything. He starts pulling food out of the bag and pushes a salad across the desk to me.
“Shrimp Ceasar from D’Antoni’s,” he grins.
“Nice call.”
“I thought so.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes and I can’t help but notice the tension in the air. It’s been there ever since he found out about Knox and me – and will probably continue until he gets his way and we split up. He’s a lot more subtle about it, but he’s just as bad as Maura when it comes to judging our relationship – and judging it harshly.
Of course, it’s only going to get a whole lot more tense when he finds out I’m pregnant.
God, that word again. It’s incredible how one simple word can turn your entire world upside down and leave you shaken to the core. As I sit there chewing on my salad, I realize I’m having as much difficulty figuring out how I’m going to tell my brother as I am trying to figure out how to tell Knox.
“It’s been what, six weeks or so since you last saw your stalker?” he begins.
“Peter, let’s not –”
“What? I was just asking. You know, just normal, everyday conversation.”
I sigh and take a bite of my salad, doing my best to push my annoyance away. This is how it starts every single time – Peter reminding me how many days it’s been since I last saw the creep. It’s his not-so-subtle way of trying to separate me from Knox. As if he really thinks that not keeping Knox on as my bodyguard is really going to keep me from seeing him. It’s absurd.
“Why do you hate the idea of me being with him so much?” I question.
Knox sighs and leans back in his seat. “Did you forget that I know him? Have known him for a long time?”
“And that’s supposed to mean what?”
“It means that I know what he’s like, Felicity,” his voice is earnest. “I know how he treats women.”
“He’s been nothing but a gentleman with me, Peter,” I object. “He’s treated me like gold.”
“Sure, in the beginning, everything is great,” he goes on. “But that changes over time. It always changes. Look, I love the guy. We’ve been friends for a long time –”
“And yet, you sit here and cut him down.”
“Knox is who he is, and he’s never made any bones about it,” Peter presses. “He’s a womanizer. Always has been and always will be. It doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy, it’s just – he’s never viewed women as anything other than sport.”
I stare at him evenly. “And you don’t think he can change?”
He lets out a long breath and I can see him trying to soften his answer. “I think people believe they can change,” he says. “I think some people genuinely want to change. But at the end of the day, I think it’s too difficult for some people to overcome their base nature.”
“That’s a pretty cynical point of view,” I snap. “Especially for somebody who makes a good living trying to help people change.”
“You sound like him.”
“Doesn’t mean either of us are wrong,” I push him. “And I’m telling you, Knox isn’t the same guy you knew. He’s not like that anymore.”
“Why? Because he says so?”
“Because I know how he treats me,” I tell him. “Because I know how he makes me feel.”
He pushes his food away from him, his face darkening with frustration and anger. I know that in his own way, he’s doing what he thinks is best for me. What he doesn’t seem to understand is that all he’s doing is pushing me away and driving a wedge between us.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Felicity,” his voice is low and packed with emotion. “And if you keep doing whatever it is you’re doing with him, you’re going to get hurt. There is no other way this ends for you.”
“I really hope you’re wrong,” I blurt out suddenly. “Because I’m pregnant.”
Peter’s eyes op
en so wide he looks like a cartoon character. I didn’t mean to blurt it out so suddenly. I was actually sitting there wondering how I was going to broach the subject at all – or if I even should, given the hardening of his anti-Knox position.
“Are you kidding me?” he gasps.
“No.”
He runs a hand through his hair and sits way back in his seat, his eyes on the ceiling as he digests the information. I know it was brutal to throw it at him the way I did, but there wasn’t going to be an easy way to tell him. And of course, I had to tell him. He’s my brother. Besides, if I wanted to keep it from him, I’d basically have to avoid him for the next eighteen years.
“What has Knox said?”
“He doesn’t know yet,” I admit. “I found out today.”
“Oh Felicity,” he moans. “Do you even know what this means? It’s going to change your life entirely.”
“Yeah, it’s crossed my mind, Peter.”
I look down and see the salad still in my lap. I snap the lid back on and set it down on his desk. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Peter looks at me and I can see the anger, but what hurts me the most and cuts the deepest is the disappointment I see in his eyes.
He’s never been anything but proud of me. Supportive of everything I’ve done. It’s something I cherish and something I’ve come to rely on. To see that blatant disappoint in me pains me in ways I didn’t think I could hurt.
I feel the tears well in my eyes and bite my tongue to try and stop them from falling, but it doesn’t work. They roll down my cheeks completely unchecked. Angrily, I wipe them away but more rush in to take their place.
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead. I’m still trying to absorb and digest the fact that I’m pregnant. I really haven’t had time to plan for the future just yet. There is only one thing that’s certain in my mind right now.
