Life and Breath Part 30
Title: Life and Breath
Author: Pink Rabbit Productions
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Part: 30
Date: 3 June, 2010
Rating: Personally, I'd call it an R, but some might consider it NC-17 at some point.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to other folks far wealthier, more important (or at least with better lawyers), and hopefully more charitable and kinder than I. They include, but are not necessarily limited to CBS, Proctor and Gamble, and Telenext. The actual arrangement of words, however, remains my own as do any original characters. Meanwhile, there is likely to be all female romantic and sexual activity ahead, so if this is likely to get you, me, or anybody else arrested should you take a gander, please move along. Also, if you find that sort of thing offensive, you really probably shouldn't hang around anyplace I'm posting. Just sayin'....
Archiving: The Pink Rabbit Consortium
Spoilers: Some early scenes definitely, plus anything through the spa trip is fair game.
Timeline: Unlike some folks, I don't have an exact scene where this one takes off. However, it's definitely set after the spa trip, but before Rafe's release from the halfway house. Oh, and it's after Natalia admits she's in love with Olivia to Father Ray.
Earlier Parts: | Part 1 (Prologue) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 |
Life and Breath
by Pink Rabbit Productions
Part 30
One of the biggest advantages to a family owned restaurant and bar, Frank decided, was it was never too early to have a drink. "And you never have to tip the bartender," he reminded himself mock cheerfully as he poured a fresh tumbler of scotch, then tossed it back with a flick of his wrist. It was the cheap stuff and his eyes watered as it lit up the back of his throat like pure kerosene. "Plus you can ignore last call if you feel like it," he added, miming a toast with an invisible companion as he seriously considered drinking all the way through the day and well into tomorrow.
He was still debating that option when he felt the cell phone tucked away in his inner coat pocket vibrate for attention.
Checking the number, his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk. Oh, look, it was his new best buddy. Maybe Jim Barron had some wonderful new piece of information likely to result in even more pain and humiliation. He'd almost been over it all, even been dealing with getting dumped for Olivia, but then the detective had come to town holding out promises of getting his own back, and somehow, despite his every effort, it had all turned to hell and he was a loser once again.
Hell, the bastard couldn't have done a better job of sinking Frank if he'd laid out a carefully constructed plan of destruction.
Frank froze as that thought went through his head and he found himself wondering if such a thing was possible. He'd been a cop a lot of years. He had enemies. And if he hadn't exactly busted a lot of crime lords, there was always Olivia. She'd pulled plenty of rotten tricks in her time.
Was she devious enough to set him up, see him humiliated and laid low in front of everyone?
Easy answer to that. She was more than devious enough.
And if she thought that he was a threat to her relationship with Natalia...
He lost himself in the brief fantasy that there were problems between them. Natalia had seen the light and wanted him back. Yeah, that would explain it all. Olivia would go nuts if she thought her hold on the younger woman was threatened. She'd do anything to hold onto relationships when they went south-she'd proven that plenty of times before-and she knew a thousand underhanded tricks for destroying anyone in her path. She probably thought that if she could trick him into attacking Natalia, she could ensure that she never returned to him.
A rush of power slid through him as he mentally slipped the final piece of the puzzle into place. Suddenly, the fuckups and humiliations of the last few days made sense.
Olivia was behind it all.
He envisioned explaining it all to Natalia, then the look of gratitude in her eyes as she realized he'd saved her from the scheming woman who'd played mind games in an effort to turn her away from a good man. In the fantasy, she apologized for falling for Olivia's manipulations and insisted that she'd never really loved her, that it had been him all along. She explained how Olivia had made her doubt herself and think she wasn't good enough for Frank, then she begged him to take her back and promised to spend the rest of her life doing everything in her power to make him happy if he just gave her a chance.
A hazy smile curved his mouth upward as his gaze grew distant.
That would be perfect.
Then he remembered the bar owner, Michael Marino, and his obscene memories of Natalia.
Barron had produced all the other evidence, so maybe it wasn't to be completely trusted, but Frank had come up with that all on his own. And Marino had been certain, his leer telling the tale even as he'd reminisced about her wild proclivities in bed. And the birthmark on her hip.
The one Frank had thought so erotic and so private, thinking foolishly that he was probably one of only two men who'd ever seen it. Such a small thing but one that had made him feel powerful in some way, like he knew something about her that no other living man did, like he owned some little part of her with that knowledge.
Now it just made him nauseous.
And then there was the call to Natalia Rivera's mother. Her daughter was dead.
Natalia Rivera was dead, and whoever remained was rotted to the core.
A fresh wave of nausea rippled through him as his momentary fantasy melted away. One more lost dream to join a life of them. One more misery heaped on his head.
Nothing new. He'd been through plenty of them in the last few days.
All of it suffered in the name of what? Protecting the interests of a woman who'd cheated on him with his father, then cheated on his father too, who'd treated him and his entire family like crap, who lived to cheat and hurt people, who spread her legs for every man who bothered to ask, a woman who broke up marriages for fun, and had stolen his bride and made him look like the biggest fucking fool on the planet.
The phone vibrated for attention again-Barron making another play for attention. Frank shoved the phone back in his pocket, then took another swallow of fiery alcohol, no longer caring whether the other detective was honest or playing a game or what.
Fuck it. Olivia was on her own. The guppy was gonna look after himself this time.
Why the hell not? God knew, being the responsible, honorable, quintessential good guy sure hadn't worked. Instead of being seen as the local hero, he was seen as a fucking joke, a dirty old man leering at young girls who were way out of his league while getting simple coffee orders wrong. Meanwhile, Olivia Spencer-lying, cheating bitch on wheels, town whore, and bane of his existence-was somehow the one who got the accolades and the girl.
Not just any girl either. The very one he'd wanted and briefly convinced himself wanted him too.
And fuck. Even if Natalia, or Emily or whatever the fuck her name was, really was a fucking con artist, she'd probably really fallen in love with Olivia and given up her wicked ways.
That would just make it all perfect. They could settle in Springfield, have wonderful lives and make sure to point at him and laugh on a regular basis.
Another slug of scotch left his throat on fire and his belly rolling with enough force he missed the soft sound of footsteps behind him until his father spoke.
"Uh...Frank?" Buzz murmured uncertainly. "Little early in the day for that, isn't it?"
Frank didn't bother to look back, peering instead at the dregs of the liquor in his glass. "Leave it alone, pops," he warned the older man. The last thing he wanted was his father's opinion on the matter, not when he knew just how divided his loyalties were. Buzz Cooper had run out on his family, ditched them and left his teenage son to raise the daughter he didn't even know existed, then come back and expected their love and loyalty. Not that he gave much in return, Frank mused as he remembered how his father had snuck in and out of Olivia's bed even as she'd been pretending to be serious about Frank. And then there was his wedding day with Natalia. He made a face as he remembered the way his father had tried to talk him out of the marriage, apparently convinced no one as young and pretty as Natalia could ever love a loser like him. "Well, you were right about that much," Frank muttered under his breath.
"Pardon?" Buzz questioned uncertainly, sensing that his son was in a very bad space, but totally lost as to what had caused it.
Arm braced on the surface of the bar, Frank pushed the stool around to glare at his father resentfully. "Maybe you should be the next in line to hear the good news," he mused aloud, the liquor he'd already drunk making it impossible to keep the sneer out of his voice.
"Ok-ay," Buzz exhaled cautiously, uncertain how to read Frank's mood, but well aware it wasn't good.
"Yeah," Frank said mock cheerfully as he raised his glass in a toast. "Y'see, it seems that my ex-fiancée has hooked up with someone new." He saw his father flinch ever so slightly, the look in his eyes seeming to hold as much disapproval that Frank couldn't let go as pity for the situation. "Spent the night with 'em in fact," Frank added, bile threading its way through his tone.
"Frank, I'm-" Buzz started to sympathize only to find himself cut off.
"No, no...no congratulations just yet," Frank interrupted, his voice hard with sarcasm. "You still haven't heard the best part."
Buzz retreated a step from his son's anger, peering at the younger man with a worried expression as he accepted that Frank wasn't finished yet.
"Y'see, it's all the more special because it's Olivia who was fucking Natalia last night." He wasn't sure what he hated more, his father's pity or his utter lack of surprise at the news.
"I'm so sorry," Buzz said simply.
"Are ya, Pop?" Frank demanded bitterly. "Are ya really?"
Buzz tensed, but checked any temptation to rise to the accusing note in his son's voice. "Of course I am," he said, his tone only a little sharper than normal. "It's a helluva mess and I wish like hell you hadn't been hurt by it."
"But you don't wish they weren't together, do you?" Frank growled. "Don't wish your precious Olivia hadn't gotten the woman I wanted?"
"Frank-" Buzz began, but his son just over-rode him.
"Because that would mean not rooting for Olivia just this once." Frank threw back the few dregs of liquor left, the burn in his throat and gut suddenly feeling better than his father's lack of loyalty. "Even though it means seeing me in the losing column...again."
"That's not true," Buzz denied the charge. "Hell, I read Natalia the riot act the other day for how she handled this...the way she hurt you." He shook his head. "She should never have lied the way she did-"
"But choosing Olivia over me, that's just good sense, right?" Frank seethed, the accusations against Natalia nearly forgotten as he faced his father's seeming betrayal. Suddenly it wasn't about her possible perfidy, but about his continuing loyalty to Olivia Spencer over his own family.
"Of course not," Buzz denied the charge, his own temper threatening to fray. "But, son, think about this...it would've been a hell of a lot worse if you'd wound up married to a woman who couldn't love you."
"Because who the hell could love Frank Cooper, right?" White hot fury flared behind his eyelids, making his skull throb even as his stomach knotted with the remembered shame of overhearing the women at the Beacon mocking him in the cruelest way possible.
"No," Buzz shot back. "But, Frank...has it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe it had nothing to do with you?"
"No, of course not," Frank snarled, unable to see his father's point through his own emotional fog. "Not with Olivia Spencer in the mix...because it's always all about her. She couldn't have the husband, but the wife is almost as good...hell, maybe better because she got to take her away from me, and besides, Gus might actually have disagreed with her now and then, but Natalia...she'll just nod and go along with whatever Olivia wants-"
"Son, even you don't believe that," Buzz interrupted, his voice hard, though his eyes were sad. He tried again. "Stop and think. By all accounts Natalia went seventeen years without even dating...and you know men asked-"
"Right," Frank erupted, suddenly light-headed with pent-up rage, "waiting for her lost love, Gus, and no one else would do...except Olivia-fucking-Spencer-"
"Or maybe," Buzz broke in, refusing to be derailed by his son's anger, "any men who asked were no great temptation. Maybe," he continued, raising his voice and hardening it enough to shut Frank down when he drew breath to fire back, "she was caught in a trap of being told over and over that what she really wanted was so sinful and evil that it was safer to fantasize that a teenaged crush was the great love of her life than to admit-"
"Oh, please," Frank snarled. "She went after Gus like a bitch in-"
"FRANK!" Buzz bellowed, slamming a hand into the bar for extra emphasis as he stared at his son with a disbelieving look. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Rearing back as though he expected to be struck, Frank glared at his father, unrepentant for the intended insult.
Buzz took a deep breath, consciously pushing his own temper down as he tried to make his son see reason. "I know she hurt you," he allowed, understanding Frank well enough to understand that he wouldn't listen until his pain was acknowledged. "And that's awful...but, Frank, this anger and bitterness...it's not you and it's not fair. You know Natalia well enough to know that she never meant to hurt anyone." He shook his head slowly, imagining the state the young woman had probably been in. "She screwed up, yes...but I would gamble my life that this is something she'd avoided all of her life...and suddenly she was in deep. She was probably panicked by what she felt for Olivia...and utterly terrified that we'd all hate her...so she ran toward something she thought was acceptable..."
As his father painted the sad picture, Frank experienced a swell of pity for someone so lost and unsure of themselves, then the phone in his pocket vibrated, reminding him of all the things he'd learned about Natalia. He ignored it, but a smirk twisted his mouth into an ugly line. "You actually feel sorry for her...think she's so sweet and innocent," he sneered. All the things Marino and Barron had said echoed painfully inside his head, painting wicked pictures that were both erotic and horrifying. "But you have no idea what she really is."
Staring at his son as though he'd lost his mind, Buzz couldn't decide how to respond. "Then why don't you tell me," he said at last, hoping that maybe if Frank opened up, it would lance the wound and let the poison out. Maybe then the damn thing could heal a little.
Frank drew a breath to hurl it all at his father-every tawdry detail from Barron's revelations, to Marino's suggestive comments to the mockery he'd overheard at the hotel-only to pull up short as he registered the older man's expression. Equal measures of pity and disapproval gleamed in Buzz Cooper's eyes, and Frank felt his entrails knot up as he realized that nothing he could say would change his father's opinion. He could talk until he was blue in the face, but without hard proof, it would just be deemed lashing out because he was hurt or buying into someone's lies because he didn't want to face the truth. He thought of the manila folder that Barron had given him and the additional investigation he'd done, but it still wasn't enough. Too little hard proof and too much supposition and possible coincidence. After talking to Marino, he was certain, but even though there was a police report and a few grainy security pictures that looked like Natalia to support the bar owner's claims, those charges were outside the statute of limitations. Excuses would and could be made.
Hell, he didn't even have enough to go to Jeffrey O'Neill yet, and knowing his father, he'd probably need more proof than the DA before he'd take his son's word over Olivia's or Natalia's.
Teeth gritted, Frank pushed off the bar stool, nearly toppling over as he found his feet and the world wavered around him. He saw his father start to step forward to help and waved him off. Straightening himself with conscious care, Frank shook his head. "Why bother?" he muttered his voice carrying equal measures of anger and defeat. "You wouldn't believe me anyway," he added bitterly as he pushed past his father and stormed out.
His head cleared a little as he hit the cool, spring air, then a little more when he ignored his father calling after him and kept moving, one hand running along the wall at his side to steady himself when the ground wobbled and rolled. He was still trying to find a way to justify driving in this condition when Mallet's car pulled up alongside him.
"Hey, Frank," his son-in-law called out as the passenger side window slid down.
Grabbing for the passenger side door handle, Frank was relieved to find it unlocked and he slid in. "Glad I ran into you," he said before Mallet could ask any questions. "I really need to do something at the office," he offered without further explanation, "and I woke up with kind of a nasty headache this morning. Don't really wanna drive." He flashed a quick look at the younger man. "Wonder if you could give me a ride in?" he paid Mallet the courtesy of making it a request, not an order.
"No problem," Mallet said agreeably, though the look in his eyes was questioning. If he noticed the slight slur in Frank's words, he politely declined to notice.
Glancing into the passenger's side rear view mirror, Frank saw his father headed their way, his expression set into lines of grim determination. "We should go ahead and go. I'm expecting a call and I don't want to miss it."
"Ahm...sure," Mallet exhaled a little uncertainly as he pulled smoothly away from the curb, glad there was no traffic to interfere since his father-in-law seemed so eager to be on his way.
Leaning back in his seat, Frank ignored the other man, as he kept spinning things in his mind, all the suspicions, the hurts, the angers, the jealousies. He worked and reworked the patterns and was still reordering them when they pulled into the parking lot of the police station. He barely spoke to Mallet as exited the car. His beliefs, suspicions, thoughts, hopes, dreams, angers, resentments, jealousies all swirled together in a confusing tumble inside his head.
As he reached his desk, he shook himself, struggling to throw off the drunken dizziness. He had to pull it together and find a way to bring Natalia down. Earlier, at the hotel, he'd been intent on warning Olivia out of some inborn need to be the good guy. He'd known it might not be enough for a criminal case, but he'd been determined to do the right thing so Olivia didn't get hurt the way he had.
Fuck that.
Now it was about showing them all.
Preferably by drawing blood.
A grim smile twisted his mouth as he envisioned dragging a pleading Natalia through the Beacon lobby in handcuffs while Olivia looked on, humiliated and mortified to have been taken in.
That would do the job.
The problem was arrests took hard evidence. Bring her in without that and it was just a setup for a future lawsuit. Jeffrey O'Neill would have his hide. He stared at all the information he'd compiled-the file folder he'd put together to give to Olivia and the files on his computer. He had names, dates, police reports, a few witness statements, even a grainy picture or two, but no matter how he tried to assemble it and explain the case in his head, he couldn't come up with enough to spur things forward, particularly not with O'Neill in charge since Olivia Spencer would doubtlessly use every trick in the book to influence him into protecting Natalia.
And he was under no illusions just what lengths Olivia could go to and how much influence she could exert over a man when she so chose.
Which was why he was going about it all wrong, he abruptly realized. O'Neill wasn't the stumbling block. He was just a tool. The real power lay with Olivia Spencer. What the hell had he been thinking in wanting to protect her? She was a thousand times more badass than he had ever dreamt of being and where he was all rules and law, she had never limited herself to such mundane realities. She could be a fucking engine of destruction when she wanted to be.
Make her a see the truth and she'd do the rest of the work for him. If he could make it a matter of vengeance, she'd lie, cheat, steal, or fuck Jeffrey's brains out to get her way.
Natalia, Emily, or whatever her name was wouldn't stand a chance.
A hint of a smile on his mouth for the first time in days, he opened a report and started typing....
* * * * * *
TBC
Author: Pink Rabbit Productions
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Part: 30
Date: 3 June, 2010
Rating: Personally, I'd call it an R, but some might consider it NC-17 at some point.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to other folks far wealthier, more important (or at least with better lawyers), and hopefully more charitable and kinder than I. They include, but are not necessarily limited to CBS, Proctor and Gamble, and Telenext. The actual arrangement of words, however, remains my own as do any original characters. Meanwhile, there is likely to be all female romantic and sexual activity ahead, so if this is likely to get you, me, or anybody else arrested should you take a gander, please move along. Also, if you find that sort of thing offensive, you really probably shouldn't hang around anyplace I'm posting. Just sayin'....
Archiving: The Pink Rabbit Consortium
Spoilers: Some early scenes definitely, plus anything through the spa trip is fair game.
Timeline: Unlike some folks, I don't have an exact scene where this one takes off. However, it's definitely set after the spa trip, but before Rafe's release from the halfway house. Oh, and it's after Natalia admits she's in love with Olivia to Father Ray.
Earlier Parts: | Part 1 (Prologue) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 |
Life and Breath
by Pink Rabbit Productions
Part 30
One of the biggest advantages to a family owned restaurant and bar, Frank decided, was it was never too early to have a drink. "And you never have to tip the bartender," he reminded himself mock cheerfully as he poured a fresh tumbler of scotch, then tossed it back with a flick of his wrist. It was the cheap stuff and his eyes watered as it lit up the back of his throat like pure kerosene. "Plus you can ignore last call if you feel like it," he added, miming a toast with an invisible companion as he seriously considered drinking all the way through the day and well into tomorrow.
He was still debating that option when he felt the cell phone tucked away in his inner coat pocket vibrate for attention.
Checking the number, his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk. Oh, look, it was his new best buddy. Maybe Jim Barron had some wonderful new piece of information likely to result in even more pain and humiliation. He'd almost been over it all, even been dealing with getting dumped for Olivia, but then the detective had come to town holding out promises of getting his own back, and somehow, despite his every effort, it had all turned to hell and he was a loser once again.
Hell, the bastard couldn't have done a better job of sinking Frank if he'd laid out a carefully constructed plan of destruction.
Frank froze as that thought went through his head and he found himself wondering if such a thing was possible. He'd been a cop a lot of years. He had enemies. And if he hadn't exactly busted a lot of crime lords, there was always Olivia. She'd pulled plenty of rotten tricks in her time.
Was she devious enough to set him up, see him humiliated and laid low in front of everyone?
Easy answer to that. She was more than devious enough.
And if she thought that he was a threat to her relationship with Natalia...
He lost himself in the brief fantasy that there were problems between them. Natalia had seen the light and wanted him back. Yeah, that would explain it all. Olivia would go nuts if she thought her hold on the younger woman was threatened. She'd do anything to hold onto relationships when they went south-she'd proven that plenty of times before-and she knew a thousand underhanded tricks for destroying anyone in her path. She probably thought that if she could trick him into attacking Natalia, she could ensure that she never returned to him.
A rush of power slid through him as he mentally slipped the final piece of the puzzle into place. Suddenly, the fuckups and humiliations of the last few days made sense.
Olivia was behind it all.
He envisioned explaining it all to Natalia, then the look of gratitude in her eyes as she realized he'd saved her from the scheming woman who'd played mind games in an effort to turn her away from a good man. In the fantasy, she apologized for falling for Olivia's manipulations and insisted that she'd never really loved her, that it had been him all along. She explained how Olivia had made her doubt herself and think she wasn't good enough for Frank, then she begged him to take her back and promised to spend the rest of her life doing everything in her power to make him happy if he just gave her a chance.
A hazy smile curved his mouth upward as his gaze grew distant.
That would be perfect.
Then he remembered the bar owner, Michael Marino, and his obscene memories of Natalia.
Barron had produced all the other evidence, so maybe it wasn't to be completely trusted, but Frank had come up with that all on his own. And Marino had been certain, his leer telling the tale even as he'd reminisced about her wild proclivities in bed. And the birthmark on her hip.
The one Frank had thought so erotic and so private, thinking foolishly that he was probably one of only two men who'd ever seen it. Such a small thing but one that had made him feel powerful in some way, like he knew something about her that no other living man did, like he owned some little part of her with that knowledge.
Now it just made him nauseous.
And then there was the call to Natalia Rivera's mother. Her daughter was dead.
Natalia Rivera was dead, and whoever remained was rotted to the core.
A fresh wave of nausea rippled through him as his momentary fantasy melted away. One more lost dream to join a life of them. One more misery heaped on his head.
Nothing new. He'd been through plenty of them in the last few days.
All of it suffered in the name of what? Protecting the interests of a woman who'd cheated on him with his father, then cheated on his father too, who'd treated him and his entire family like crap, who lived to cheat and hurt people, who spread her legs for every man who bothered to ask, a woman who broke up marriages for fun, and had stolen his bride and made him look like the biggest fucking fool on the planet.
The phone vibrated for attention again-Barron making another play for attention. Frank shoved the phone back in his pocket, then took another swallow of fiery alcohol, no longer caring whether the other detective was honest or playing a game or what.
Fuck it. Olivia was on her own. The guppy was gonna look after himself this time.
Why the hell not? God knew, being the responsible, honorable, quintessential good guy sure hadn't worked. Instead of being seen as the local hero, he was seen as a fucking joke, a dirty old man leering at young girls who were way out of his league while getting simple coffee orders wrong. Meanwhile, Olivia Spencer-lying, cheating bitch on wheels, town whore, and bane of his existence-was somehow the one who got the accolades and the girl.
Not just any girl either. The very one he'd wanted and briefly convinced himself wanted him too.
And fuck. Even if Natalia, or Emily or whatever the fuck her name was, really was a fucking con artist, she'd probably really fallen in love with Olivia and given up her wicked ways.
That would just make it all perfect. They could settle in Springfield, have wonderful lives and make sure to point at him and laugh on a regular basis.
Another slug of scotch left his throat on fire and his belly rolling with enough force he missed the soft sound of footsteps behind him until his father spoke.
"Uh...Frank?" Buzz murmured uncertainly. "Little early in the day for that, isn't it?"
Frank didn't bother to look back, peering instead at the dregs of the liquor in his glass. "Leave it alone, pops," he warned the older man. The last thing he wanted was his father's opinion on the matter, not when he knew just how divided his loyalties were. Buzz Cooper had run out on his family, ditched them and left his teenage son to raise the daughter he didn't even know existed, then come back and expected their love and loyalty. Not that he gave much in return, Frank mused as he remembered how his father had snuck in and out of Olivia's bed even as she'd been pretending to be serious about Frank. And then there was his wedding day with Natalia. He made a face as he remembered the way his father had tried to talk him out of the marriage, apparently convinced no one as young and pretty as Natalia could ever love a loser like him. "Well, you were right about that much," Frank muttered under his breath.
"Pardon?" Buzz questioned uncertainly, sensing that his son was in a very bad space, but totally lost as to what had caused it.
Arm braced on the surface of the bar, Frank pushed the stool around to glare at his father resentfully. "Maybe you should be the next in line to hear the good news," he mused aloud, the liquor he'd already drunk making it impossible to keep the sneer out of his voice.
"Ok-ay," Buzz exhaled cautiously, uncertain how to read Frank's mood, but well aware it wasn't good.
"Yeah," Frank said mock cheerfully as he raised his glass in a toast. "Y'see, it seems that my ex-fiancée has hooked up with someone new." He saw his father flinch ever so slightly, the look in his eyes seeming to hold as much disapproval that Frank couldn't let go as pity for the situation. "Spent the night with 'em in fact," Frank added, bile threading its way through his tone.
"Frank, I'm-" Buzz started to sympathize only to find himself cut off.
"No, no...no congratulations just yet," Frank interrupted, his voice hard with sarcasm. "You still haven't heard the best part."
Buzz retreated a step from his son's anger, peering at the younger man with a worried expression as he accepted that Frank wasn't finished yet.
"Y'see, it's all the more special because it's Olivia who was fucking Natalia last night." He wasn't sure what he hated more, his father's pity or his utter lack of surprise at the news.
"I'm so sorry," Buzz said simply.
"Are ya, Pop?" Frank demanded bitterly. "Are ya really?"
Buzz tensed, but checked any temptation to rise to the accusing note in his son's voice. "Of course I am," he said, his tone only a little sharper than normal. "It's a helluva mess and I wish like hell you hadn't been hurt by it."
"But you don't wish they weren't together, do you?" Frank growled. "Don't wish your precious Olivia hadn't gotten the woman I wanted?"
"Frank-" Buzz began, but his son just over-rode him.
"Because that would mean not rooting for Olivia just this once." Frank threw back the few dregs of liquor left, the burn in his throat and gut suddenly feeling better than his father's lack of loyalty. "Even though it means seeing me in the losing column...again."
"That's not true," Buzz denied the charge. "Hell, I read Natalia the riot act the other day for how she handled this...the way she hurt you." He shook his head. "She should never have lied the way she did-"
"But choosing Olivia over me, that's just good sense, right?" Frank seethed, the accusations against Natalia nearly forgotten as he faced his father's seeming betrayal. Suddenly it wasn't about her possible perfidy, but about his continuing loyalty to Olivia Spencer over his own family.
"Of course not," Buzz denied the charge, his own temper threatening to fray. "But, son, think about this...it would've been a hell of a lot worse if you'd wound up married to a woman who couldn't love you."
"Because who the hell could love Frank Cooper, right?" White hot fury flared behind his eyelids, making his skull throb even as his stomach knotted with the remembered shame of overhearing the women at the Beacon mocking him in the cruelest way possible.
"No," Buzz shot back. "But, Frank...has it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe it had nothing to do with you?"
"No, of course not," Frank snarled, unable to see his father's point through his own emotional fog. "Not with Olivia Spencer in the mix...because it's always all about her. She couldn't have the husband, but the wife is almost as good...hell, maybe better because she got to take her away from me, and besides, Gus might actually have disagreed with her now and then, but Natalia...she'll just nod and go along with whatever Olivia wants-"
"Son, even you don't believe that," Buzz interrupted, his voice hard, though his eyes were sad. He tried again. "Stop and think. By all accounts Natalia went seventeen years without even dating...and you know men asked-"
"Right," Frank erupted, suddenly light-headed with pent-up rage, "waiting for her lost love, Gus, and no one else would do...except Olivia-fucking-Spencer-"
"Or maybe," Buzz broke in, refusing to be derailed by his son's anger, "any men who asked were no great temptation. Maybe," he continued, raising his voice and hardening it enough to shut Frank down when he drew breath to fire back, "she was caught in a trap of being told over and over that what she really wanted was so sinful and evil that it was safer to fantasize that a teenaged crush was the great love of her life than to admit-"
"Oh, please," Frank snarled. "She went after Gus like a bitch in-"
"FRANK!" Buzz bellowed, slamming a hand into the bar for extra emphasis as he stared at his son with a disbelieving look. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Rearing back as though he expected to be struck, Frank glared at his father, unrepentant for the intended insult.
Buzz took a deep breath, consciously pushing his own temper down as he tried to make his son see reason. "I know she hurt you," he allowed, understanding Frank well enough to understand that he wouldn't listen until his pain was acknowledged. "And that's awful...but, Frank, this anger and bitterness...it's not you and it's not fair. You know Natalia well enough to know that she never meant to hurt anyone." He shook his head slowly, imagining the state the young woman had probably been in. "She screwed up, yes...but I would gamble my life that this is something she'd avoided all of her life...and suddenly she was in deep. She was probably panicked by what she felt for Olivia...and utterly terrified that we'd all hate her...so she ran toward something she thought was acceptable..."
As his father painted the sad picture, Frank experienced a swell of pity for someone so lost and unsure of themselves, then the phone in his pocket vibrated, reminding him of all the things he'd learned about Natalia. He ignored it, but a smirk twisted his mouth into an ugly line. "You actually feel sorry for her...think she's so sweet and innocent," he sneered. All the things Marino and Barron had said echoed painfully inside his head, painting wicked pictures that were both erotic and horrifying. "But you have no idea what she really is."
Staring at his son as though he'd lost his mind, Buzz couldn't decide how to respond. "Then why don't you tell me," he said at last, hoping that maybe if Frank opened up, it would lance the wound and let the poison out. Maybe then the damn thing could heal a little.
Frank drew a breath to hurl it all at his father-every tawdry detail from Barron's revelations, to Marino's suggestive comments to the mockery he'd overheard at the hotel-only to pull up short as he registered the older man's expression. Equal measures of pity and disapproval gleamed in Buzz Cooper's eyes, and Frank felt his entrails knot up as he realized that nothing he could say would change his father's opinion. He could talk until he was blue in the face, but without hard proof, it would just be deemed lashing out because he was hurt or buying into someone's lies because he didn't want to face the truth. He thought of the manila folder that Barron had given him and the additional investigation he'd done, but it still wasn't enough. Too little hard proof and too much supposition and possible coincidence. After talking to Marino, he was certain, but even though there was a police report and a few grainy security pictures that looked like Natalia to support the bar owner's claims, those charges were outside the statute of limitations. Excuses would and could be made.
Hell, he didn't even have enough to go to Jeffrey O'Neill yet, and knowing his father, he'd probably need more proof than the DA before he'd take his son's word over Olivia's or Natalia's.
Teeth gritted, Frank pushed off the bar stool, nearly toppling over as he found his feet and the world wavered around him. He saw his father start to step forward to help and waved him off. Straightening himself with conscious care, Frank shook his head. "Why bother?" he muttered his voice carrying equal measures of anger and defeat. "You wouldn't believe me anyway," he added bitterly as he pushed past his father and stormed out.
His head cleared a little as he hit the cool, spring air, then a little more when he ignored his father calling after him and kept moving, one hand running along the wall at his side to steady himself when the ground wobbled and rolled. He was still trying to find a way to justify driving in this condition when Mallet's car pulled up alongside him.
"Hey, Frank," his son-in-law called out as the passenger side window slid down.
Grabbing for the passenger side door handle, Frank was relieved to find it unlocked and he slid in. "Glad I ran into you," he said before Mallet could ask any questions. "I really need to do something at the office," he offered without further explanation, "and I woke up with kind of a nasty headache this morning. Don't really wanna drive." He flashed a quick look at the younger man. "Wonder if you could give me a ride in?" he paid Mallet the courtesy of making it a request, not an order.
"No problem," Mallet said agreeably, though the look in his eyes was questioning. If he noticed the slight slur in Frank's words, he politely declined to notice.
Glancing into the passenger's side rear view mirror, Frank saw his father headed their way, his expression set into lines of grim determination. "We should go ahead and go. I'm expecting a call and I don't want to miss it."
"Ahm...sure," Mallet exhaled a little uncertainly as he pulled smoothly away from the curb, glad there was no traffic to interfere since his father-in-law seemed so eager to be on his way.
Leaning back in his seat, Frank ignored the other man, as he kept spinning things in his mind, all the suspicions, the hurts, the angers, the jealousies. He worked and reworked the patterns and was still reordering them when they pulled into the parking lot of the police station. He barely spoke to Mallet as exited the car. His beliefs, suspicions, thoughts, hopes, dreams, angers, resentments, jealousies all swirled together in a confusing tumble inside his head.
As he reached his desk, he shook himself, struggling to throw off the drunken dizziness. He had to pull it together and find a way to bring Natalia down. Earlier, at the hotel, he'd been intent on warning Olivia out of some inborn need to be the good guy. He'd known it might not be enough for a criminal case, but he'd been determined to do the right thing so Olivia didn't get hurt the way he had.
Fuck that.
Now it was about showing them all.
Preferably by drawing blood.
A grim smile twisted his mouth as he envisioned dragging a pleading Natalia through the Beacon lobby in handcuffs while Olivia looked on, humiliated and mortified to have been taken in.
That would do the job.
The problem was arrests took hard evidence. Bring her in without that and it was just a setup for a future lawsuit. Jeffrey O'Neill would have his hide. He stared at all the information he'd compiled-the file folder he'd put together to give to Olivia and the files on his computer. He had names, dates, police reports, a few witness statements, even a grainy picture or two, but no matter how he tried to assemble it and explain the case in his head, he couldn't come up with enough to spur things forward, particularly not with O'Neill in charge since Olivia Spencer would doubtlessly use every trick in the book to influence him into protecting Natalia.
And he was under no illusions just what lengths Olivia could go to and how much influence she could exert over a man when she so chose.
Which was why he was going about it all wrong, he abruptly realized. O'Neill wasn't the stumbling block. He was just a tool. The real power lay with Olivia Spencer. What the hell had he been thinking in wanting to protect her? She was a thousand times more badass than he had ever dreamt of being and where he was all rules and law, she had never limited herself to such mundane realities. She could be a fucking engine of destruction when she wanted to be.
Make her a see the truth and she'd do the rest of the work for him. If he could make it a matter of vengeance, she'd lie, cheat, steal, or fuck Jeffrey's brains out to get her way.
Natalia, Emily, or whatever her name was wouldn't stand a chance.
A hint of a smile on his mouth for the first time in days, he opened a report and started typing....
* * * * * *
TBC