No Other One, Chapter 23
Title: No Other One, Chapter 23
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, and Chapter 22
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, so don't sue me.
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.” - Anais Nin
The man sitting across from him shifted nervously in his chair. Eying him carefully, Horatio learned as much as he could about Michael Gannon. Their suspect was a man in his mid-thirties, looked as though he’d gotten into a few fights over the years - with assorted scars on his hands and face and some fresh bruises to boot. His long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, everything about this guy screamed “adult still trying to be a teenager.” And the redhead thought that the man couldn’t have looked guiltier.
“Is there a reason I’m here?” the man asked.
Calleigh who was standing somewhere behind the lieutenant spoke up first. “Mr. Gannon, we just need to clear a few things up about what happened.”
“Really?” He frowned. “The DA assured me that you guys had the teens who did this. And that they’d all pay for what they’d done…. She told me that this morning.”
“Things change,” the blonde told him simply.
“How so?”
Horatio smiled. It was just the question he’d been waiting for. “We know you had your wife kidnapped,” he said accusingly.
Gannon screwed up his face in forced confusion. “What… what do you mean? I thought those kids -” He stopped and leaned back in his chair. “What’s this about?”
Though the redhead didn’t turn around, he could hear Calleigh leafing through the papers, the soft swishing filling the silent and angry room. Abruptly, she placed an image from the security camera onto the table and pushed it towards the suspect with her index and middle fingers.
“We found a receipt for rope and other supplies outside of the abandoned apartment building; we located the store and took the security tapes from the date the items were purchased,” the blonde explained.
“So,” Gannon sniped.
“So…Mike,” Horatio returned in kind. “That would be a picture of you with one of the teenagers who confessed to kidnapping your wife.”
The man shoved the still image from the security tape back at the redhead. “Coincidence. Just because I shopped for some building supplies on the same day -”
“At a store almost a half hour from your home?” Calleigh asked skeptically.
“I was in the area,” Gannon offered lamely. “And like I said, it was a coincidence. I love my wife. Why would I kidnap her?”
“Well, frankly… that’s what we’d like to know,” Horatio drawled. This time, it was he who produced the next evidence they’d found - the phone logs and the cell phone itself.
“We took a look at your phone logs,” the blonde said. “And we found several instances where a call was made from your home to the foster family where the teenagers were from. And to this cell phone that belonged to an Adam Jackson - who you were in the security tape with.”
“That’s a pretty big coincidence,” Horatio taunted. The redhead knew he wasn’t usually this sarcastic in suspect interviews. Sure there were the occasional comments uttered at the right time to get a confession. But today the lieutenant felt less in control of that. Whether it was the exhaustion or the fact that Kyle was involved - or even just that this man was obviously guilty - he didn’t really know.
And while part of him didn’t care at all, the rest of him knew he needed to reign himself in. Because Horatio understood that if he kept going, Gannon would close up, and he wanted that confession. Maybe it was a formality at this point, as they definitely had this man, but the redhead wasn’t going to let an admission of guilt slip through his fingers in exchange for a few bromides.
“I love my wife,” Michael Gannon repeated defensively.
Calleigh took a seat next to Horatio, and looking over at her, the CSI could see what she was about to do. Her green eyes filled with sympathy, everything about her soft and all southern charm. “I believe you,” she said gently. “I think you do love your wife. But sometimes… people do things they shouldn’t do.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“No, I don’t mean you necessarily,” she said quickly. Horatio didn’t add anything, just watched her. Taking a deep breath, the blonde started over. “I didn’t mean that you did anything wrong. All I meant was sometimes… spouses do things that push others to respond in a particular way.”
Gannon didn’t respond. But he did look away, and it told both CSIs that they were headed in the right direction.
“Listen, Michael,” she said gently, her voice almost saccharine sweet. “We have enough to arrest you, and the truth is… you’re going to be arrested. But… if you were to tell us the truth, tell us what happened and why you did what you did… maybe we could help you.” She licked her lips. “If you give us a good reason, then the jury will be much more lenient. But you stay silent, then you’re just going to look like an uncaring, unfeeling husband. And juries don’t tend to be so lenient with them.”
Horatio knew, even before Gannon said anything, that it had been perfectly done. This wasn’t the first time Calleigh had used that trick, and over the years, she’d mastered it, had learned to be just the right combination of sympathetic and realistic.
Gannon hesitated for a moment or two before finally nodding his head. “All right, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The two women sat next to one another, staring. Yelina waited for Rebecca Nevins to talk, but the lawyer seemed reluctant to do so. And since she’d seemed so eager only moments earlier, the curly-haired woman could only assume that this was for effect.
Another minute passed by, and finally, Yelina asked, “You were going to tell me what Horatio has been keeping from me?” As soon as the words were out, she corrected herself. “What he’s supposedly hiding from me.” The brunette didn’t even bother to try keeping the doubt out of her voice.
Rebecca smirked. “Yelina, I know you may not like me.” The Colombian couldn’t help but chuckle derisively. “All right,” the prosecutor backtracked. “Obviously, you don’t like me. But in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking lately that Horatio’s been hiding something from you.” Leaning forward, she added, “I can tell, because if you thought that I was lying, you wouldn’t be listening to a word I have to say.”
“Just get to the point,” Yelina ordered.
“Okay… The truth is Horatio arrested a boy yesterday afternoon in connection with a kidnapping.”
“I know that,” the brunette said testily. Really, she thought. If this was all for nothing, if Rebecca was trying to make her upset by telling her something she already knew, then this was a waste of time. And Yelina didn’t exactly feel like spending more time with the prosecutor than was absolutely necessary.
Irritation rising within her began to wear away at her patience. The sooner Rebecca revealed this big secret, the better it was for all of them, Yelina realized.
“Yes, but what you don’t know - or at least I’m assuming he hasn’t told you - is that Horatio is… the teenager’s father.”
The teenager’s father?
Yelina could feel her eyes widen in surprise, her mouth open, though the words at first had no meaning to her. Father?
Horatio was a father?
“But…” She tried to say something, tried to think of some response. But her mind felt waterlogged, slow, as though she were a child once more first learning how to put words together.
Horatio was Kyle Harmon’s father, she repeated mentally. But that would mean... She didn’t know what that meant, couldn’t even conceive of it.
Her hazel eyes quickly raked over Rebecca, looking for a sign. It was a lie, she told herself, nothing but a lie. And yet for all she could tell, the other woman’s face held no hint that she was trying to play with Yelina. Which either meant that the prosecutor had a wonderful poker face and a penchant for cruelty or…
It was true.
“Horatio,” she started only to stop. The brunette swallowed hard, licking her lips quickly. Reality clawed at her throat, making her feel as though speaking - breathing - was impossible. “Has a son,” she finished eventually. Her words were quiet and tentative.
But the admittance seemed to pound in her head, felt deafening to her own ears.
Horatio had a child. No, not even a child anymore; Kyle Harmon was a teenager. And her brother-in-law had been lying about this since… since before Ray Junior was born.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. He’d lied to her. Again. First Madison and now Kyle Harmon.
How… was that even possible?
How had she not realized the truth?
Because she’d seen it in the boy’s features, she’d seen it in the way Horatio acted. But Yelina hadn’t figured it out. Her eyes instinctively glanced down at her hands. Why hadn’t she…
“I don’t blame you,” Rebecca interrupted in a sickeningly false tone. “Horatio’s always kept his secrets, and if there was ever something to keep hidden, this would be that, right?”
Yelina had nothing to say in response. There were no words at the moment that could give voice to the sharp sting of this betrayal. And even if there were, she had no intentions of showing that side of herself to this woman. She glared at Rebecca.
But the prosecutor didn’t stop there. “I know it’s upsetting,” she said. Tentatively, she slid her hand over to Yelina’s, touching it. What could have been a sympathetic gesture felt all wrong coming from Rebecca. The simple act burned, the brunette thought. “But I think the bigger concern here is the city of Miami and whether or not you can effectively protect them.”
Yelina pulled her hand away, instinctively rubbing at the now seemingly tainted bit of olive skin with her fingers. And though she was still in shock, Rebecca’s words pierced through the numbing veil that had wrapped itself around her mind. “You don’t think I can do my job?” she asked, the irritation seeping through each and every syllable.
The lawyer gave her a false smile and began tapping her fingers against the metal desk. Mealy-mouthed, she told Yelina, “I understand that you want to do a good job. And hey, I couldn’t be a detective - it’s a hard profession. That you did it well for so many years... that says something. But I think we need to take a step back and… examine this as rationally as possible.”
Rebecca turned to face the brunette even more so, and Yelina had no doubt that it was to see just how badly her words would cut through. “The fact of the matter is, no matter how well intentioned, you’re just… better off doing something else with your life.”
Yelina frowned, gritted her teeth to stop herself from hitting the woman. “That is just your opinion.”
“It would be anyone’s opinion if they knew the truth!” Rebecca exclaimed. “I mean a detective needs to have insight and instinct. And how intuitive and intelligent can you be if you don’t even know that your brother-in-law has been hiding some kid from you for a good sixteen years?”
Yelina wanted to kill her. Seriously felt the urge to bludgeon the woman to death. It was a pet peeve of hers - women who tried so blatantly hard to get what they wanted. And often times, these situations reared their ugly head when someone would flirt with Horatio (which, she thought at that moment, ironically would probably never happen again).
But this was no different. The way Rebecca was so… intent on being right and getting ahead - and in this instance, causing her pain - was repulsive. The desire to hit the prosecutor had always been there, but now, it was almost unbearable.
Her hands were clenched into fists, ready to strike. She bit down on her tongue so hard that tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She was poised to attack, teetering at the very edge of her control.
It wasn’t the first time that Yelina had become this angry, but this was the first time she no longer cared. If she punched Rebecca, oh well; that was a price she was all but eager to pay. The feel of the woman’s blood on her hands would be a reward. And it didn’t even matter that she’d probably go to jail.
It definitely didn’t matter that she no longer had Horatio as a safety net.
Of course, he would try. But, as the minutes ticked by, the truth was finally sinking in, each second adding new understanding to the betrayal she had inherently felt. And her shock was giving way to rage, which meant all she wanted to do was lash out and strike everything in her path.
“Do you have anything to say?” Rebecca asked. “Or am I to understand that your silence is a sign of concurrence?”
“No,” Yelina hissed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her knuckles had turned an almost ghostly white. And she could feel her nails digging painfully into the soft flesh of her palm.
“No?” The prosecutor sounded confused. “Yelina, I know this is hard, but come on. We both know that if someone can lie to you for so long, that you’re not exactly the best judge of character. And -”
But whatever she was going to add went unsaid, thankfully, because it was Rick’s threatening voice that filled the air. “You’re gonna need to stop now,” he ordered.
Rebecca stood up and spun around, her hands on her hips. “You don’t have any authority to tell me -”
“That’s funny,” he snapped. “Cause I just did.”
“Aw, don’t be mad that I told her the truth first,” she said as though she were talking to a little boy. And as Rick began to explain how he never had any intention of telling Yelina what happened, the brunette couldn’t help but turn around in her chair.
Was it written in stone that everyone else had to know about these things before she did?
“Like you don’t want to hurt Horatio?” Rebecca retorted in response to Stetler.
“I’m not saying that,” he said.
The throbbing in her head seemed to worsen as the other two people in the room began to fight. And deciding she’d had enough, Yelina stood up, grabbing her purse off of the table. Rick continued, seemingly unaware, “But using her to get to him is -”
“And since when do you give a shit about hurting innocent people?” Rebecca snarled.
“Since I learned that Yelina’s got a mean right hook” was the last thing the brunette heard as she left the room, the door clattering shut behind her.
The main area of the police department was still crowded with various people, walking and talking. And even though it was muffled, she could hear Rick and Rebecca still sniping at one another. Everywhere around her, there was the soft din of chatter, but Yelina couldn’t help but feel completely alone.
Not that she really wanted company.
Still too wound up, the brunette felt… almost claustrophobic. As though being in the presence of another human being would suffocate her.
And she knew that if that were really the case, then she should leave now, escape before someone in the building recognized her and wanted to talk to her. Or before Horatio, if he was even around, had a chance to see her. Away from Rebecca, her murderous rage had subsided, but not completely, and she really didn’t have it in her to confront her brother-in-law just yet.
But, despite knowing she should leave, Yelina felt herself unable to move. It felt as though her body and mind worked on completely different circuits. Somehow... she was simultaneously numb and in more pain than she thought Horatio could have ever caused her to feel.
Her stomach churned, and for a second she thought she might throw up.
How could he do this to her?
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. Rationally, Yelina understood that she had no… right to demand the truth from him. He wasn’t her child, wasn’t someone who had to answer to her. And if Horatio wanted to lie or keep this a secret, then she’d never really had any ground to stand on to ask him otherwise.
More than that the sister-in-law was completely aware that she had no right to lay claim to him; if he wanted to have sex with another woman, she was hardly in a position to stop him. But…
Wasn’t there some overriding duty here? To tell the truth to your family if only so bitchy prosecutors didn’t reveal your secret first? And wasn’t it wrong to deny that there was something unique about a case when asked by a family member?
Maybe she really didn’t have a right to demand answers, but… that didn’t mean Horatio should lie.
The sad truth was she didn’t know where the moral high ground lay. Because her brother-in-law had always been the most honest, most trustworthy person she knew. His moral compass never truly seemed to waiver, so maybe…
No, her mind counted. She would not wonder if he had done the right thing here. As upset as she was, as much as Yelina wanted Rebecca to be wrong about the whole ordeal, she would not second guess what she knew to be true: it was wrong to lie to your family.
It was wrong to lie to the people you loved.
But now, and she couldn’t help the whimper that rose in her throat as she thought this, Yelina doubted that to be true. She had always been so sure that Horatio was attracted to her, that he cared about her, and wanted her to be happy. Maybe there had been brief moments of doubt in the past, but she had always come to that same conclusion. That despite his fundamental inability to grasp his feelings for her, he did want her to be happy. With the truth out now, though, that seemed almost impossible.
A hand clasped down on her shoulder, and her body, almost of its own volition, spun around. The force of her movement knocked the gentle appendage away, and Yelina had to stop herself from giving into her anger and hitting Rick, who stood before her.
“You should be celebrating,” she accused, her voice a deep hiss.
“You may not believe me, but I didn’t want this.”
“Of course you did.”
His hand sought out one of hers. From the way he was looking at her, she could tell that he was trying to be sympathetic. But it was a wasted effort on her, because his pity was the last thing she wanted. His fingers clasping around hers, she was abruptly pulled from her thoughts. Quickly she tried to wrench her hand out of his way.
But he was ultimately stronger, not only maintaining his grip but pulling her closer as well. “I wanted you to know the truth, okay? Because I thought you had the right to know. But I didn’t want you to find it out like that. Not from her and not when you weren’t prepared to hear the truth.”
Yelina didn’t know whether or not to believe him. How could she make any decision when Rebecca was right about her judgment?
She swallowed hard, trying to think of the right words to say to him. She should yell at him and push him away, because Rick could easily be lying. But the anger that threatened to overflow seemed, oddly enough, hard to force out. The way her hand, trapped in his fingers, rubbed against the soft cotton of his striped pink shirt was almost more than she could bear.
It was familiar to her, which she needed right now more than anything. And maybe the comfort was forced, but… she wanted it.
Perhaps sensing her weakness, Rick offered, in an almost tender way, “Let me drive you home.”
She shook her head instinctively, the word, “no,” being blurted out before she had a chance to stop herself. As much as Yelina wanted his comfort, it was hard to overcome her natural reflexes. Which, when it came to Stetler, always involved being contrary and stubborn. And knowing that, she couldn’t squash the voice inside of her that said she couldn’t be near him right now, because he continually brought out the worst in her.
He shook his head and tugged on her captured hand to pull her closer. His fingers snaking upwards, the dark-haired man grabbed her by the elbows. The touch, she thought, was strong - firm enough to let her know that she wasn’t going to be able to free herself without his consent.
And yet it wasn’t a violent move on his part; he was manhandling her but in an attempt to soothe. His thumbs every so often stroked over her white linen jacket on the fleshy underside of her elbow. “You’re just saying that,” he countered.
“No, I’m not,” Yelina said, her voice not nearly convincing enough.
Mentally, the brunette kicked herself. She should either accept his help or hit him and move along, she thought. Because vacillating was wearing on what little self-control she had left. “Let me go,” she ordered, her voice sounding petulant even to her own ears. In the end, she decided, anger was the better way to go. It was easier, and more than that, blanketing herself in her own fury was safer. Because there was no one else to rely on, no one else she had to trust.
But Rick wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Not until you agree to let me take you home, Yelina.”
She tried to pull away from him to no avail. “I can drive myself, thank you.”
“You’re too upset!” he snapped irritated.
There was no retort for that. Yelina could hardly deny the truth in those words, and she had no intention of giving into him. Once more, the brunette tried to pull her arms away.
But he was stronger, unfortunately. And the more she fought him, the closer he pulled her. “Stop,” Rick finally told her.
If there was anything that would make her want to struggle some more, that was it. And she let out an “Hmph,” as she tried to free her arms from his hands.
“Stop it,” he nearly barked, jerking her forward so quickly that she teetered on her heels. “Stop it,” Stetler repeated. “You’re upset, I get that. But look around you. Look where you are. You really want to attract attention to yourself right now?”
His voice sounded incredibly patronizing, but it felt like a cool balm to the inner flames that burned within her. Seemingly jerking awake to the reality around her, Yelina realized that he was right. If she kept acting this way, the only thing that would happen is more people would approach her. And it was bad enough dealing with Stetler’s concern.
She stopped struggling.
“Good girl,” he said, letting go of one of her arms and using his hand to cup her cheek.
She wanted to punch him.
“Now… let me drive you home.” The brunette opened her mouth to say no, but he cut her off. “The other option is I get an officer to drive you home… or you get a police escort. Neither of those is very quiet.” Brushing a curl away from her face, he said then, “So what’s it gonna be?”
If there had ever been a moment in her mind where she’d forgotten why she hated Stetler, Yelina remembered her reasons now. Biting down on the inside of her mouth, the brunette knew she had no choice.
“Fine,” she said glumly. “But you should know... this changes nothing.”
Rick only replied, “Atta girl,” as he led her out.
End (24/??)
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, and Chapter 22
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, so don't sue me.
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.” - Anais Nin
The man sitting across from him shifted nervously in his chair. Eying him carefully, Horatio learned as much as he could about Michael Gannon. Their suspect was a man in his mid-thirties, looked as though he’d gotten into a few fights over the years - with assorted scars on his hands and face and some fresh bruises to boot. His long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, everything about this guy screamed “adult still trying to be a teenager.” And the redhead thought that the man couldn’t have looked guiltier.
“Is there a reason I’m here?” the man asked.
Calleigh who was standing somewhere behind the lieutenant spoke up first. “Mr. Gannon, we just need to clear a few things up about what happened.”
“Really?” He frowned. “The DA assured me that you guys had the teens who did this. And that they’d all pay for what they’d done…. She told me that this morning.”
“Things change,” the blonde told him simply.
“How so?”
Horatio smiled. It was just the question he’d been waiting for. “We know you had your wife kidnapped,” he said accusingly.
Gannon screwed up his face in forced confusion. “What… what do you mean? I thought those kids -” He stopped and leaned back in his chair. “What’s this about?”
Though the redhead didn’t turn around, he could hear Calleigh leafing through the papers, the soft swishing filling the silent and angry room. Abruptly, she placed an image from the security camera onto the table and pushed it towards the suspect with her index and middle fingers.
“We found a receipt for rope and other supplies outside of the abandoned apartment building; we located the store and took the security tapes from the date the items were purchased,” the blonde explained.
“So,” Gannon sniped.
“So…Mike,” Horatio returned in kind. “That would be a picture of you with one of the teenagers who confessed to kidnapping your wife.”
The man shoved the still image from the security tape back at the redhead. “Coincidence. Just because I shopped for some building supplies on the same day -”
“At a store almost a half hour from your home?” Calleigh asked skeptically.
“I was in the area,” Gannon offered lamely. “And like I said, it was a coincidence. I love my wife. Why would I kidnap her?”
“Well, frankly… that’s what we’d like to know,” Horatio drawled. This time, it was he who produced the next evidence they’d found - the phone logs and the cell phone itself.
“We took a look at your phone logs,” the blonde said. “And we found several instances where a call was made from your home to the foster family where the teenagers were from. And to this cell phone that belonged to an Adam Jackson - who you were in the security tape with.”
“That’s a pretty big coincidence,” Horatio taunted. The redhead knew he wasn’t usually this sarcastic in suspect interviews. Sure there were the occasional comments uttered at the right time to get a confession. But today the lieutenant felt less in control of that. Whether it was the exhaustion or the fact that Kyle was involved - or even just that this man was obviously guilty - he didn’t really know.
And while part of him didn’t care at all, the rest of him knew he needed to reign himself in. Because Horatio understood that if he kept going, Gannon would close up, and he wanted that confession. Maybe it was a formality at this point, as they definitely had this man, but the redhead wasn’t going to let an admission of guilt slip through his fingers in exchange for a few bromides.
“I love my wife,” Michael Gannon repeated defensively.
Calleigh took a seat next to Horatio, and looking over at her, the CSI could see what she was about to do. Her green eyes filled with sympathy, everything about her soft and all southern charm. “I believe you,” she said gently. “I think you do love your wife. But sometimes… people do things they shouldn’t do.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“No, I don’t mean you necessarily,” she said quickly. Horatio didn’t add anything, just watched her. Taking a deep breath, the blonde started over. “I didn’t mean that you did anything wrong. All I meant was sometimes… spouses do things that push others to respond in a particular way.”
Gannon didn’t respond. But he did look away, and it told both CSIs that they were headed in the right direction.
“Listen, Michael,” she said gently, her voice almost saccharine sweet. “We have enough to arrest you, and the truth is… you’re going to be arrested. But… if you were to tell us the truth, tell us what happened and why you did what you did… maybe we could help you.” She licked her lips. “If you give us a good reason, then the jury will be much more lenient. But you stay silent, then you’re just going to look like an uncaring, unfeeling husband. And juries don’t tend to be so lenient with them.”
Horatio knew, even before Gannon said anything, that it had been perfectly done. This wasn’t the first time Calleigh had used that trick, and over the years, she’d mastered it, had learned to be just the right combination of sympathetic and realistic.
Gannon hesitated for a moment or two before finally nodding his head. “All right, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The two women sat next to one another, staring. Yelina waited for Rebecca Nevins to talk, but the lawyer seemed reluctant to do so. And since she’d seemed so eager only moments earlier, the curly-haired woman could only assume that this was for effect.
Another minute passed by, and finally, Yelina asked, “You were going to tell me what Horatio has been keeping from me?” As soon as the words were out, she corrected herself. “What he’s supposedly hiding from me.” The brunette didn’t even bother to try keeping the doubt out of her voice.
Rebecca smirked. “Yelina, I know you may not like me.” The Colombian couldn’t help but chuckle derisively. “All right,” the prosecutor backtracked. “Obviously, you don’t like me. But in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking lately that Horatio’s been hiding something from you.” Leaning forward, she added, “I can tell, because if you thought that I was lying, you wouldn’t be listening to a word I have to say.”
“Just get to the point,” Yelina ordered.
“Okay… The truth is Horatio arrested a boy yesterday afternoon in connection with a kidnapping.”
“I know that,” the brunette said testily. Really, she thought. If this was all for nothing, if Rebecca was trying to make her upset by telling her something she already knew, then this was a waste of time. And Yelina didn’t exactly feel like spending more time with the prosecutor than was absolutely necessary.
Irritation rising within her began to wear away at her patience. The sooner Rebecca revealed this big secret, the better it was for all of them, Yelina realized.
“Yes, but what you don’t know - or at least I’m assuming he hasn’t told you - is that Horatio is… the teenager’s father.”
The teenager’s father?
Yelina could feel her eyes widen in surprise, her mouth open, though the words at first had no meaning to her. Father?
Horatio was a father?
“But…” She tried to say something, tried to think of some response. But her mind felt waterlogged, slow, as though she were a child once more first learning how to put words together.
Horatio was Kyle Harmon’s father, she repeated mentally. But that would mean... She didn’t know what that meant, couldn’t even conceive of it.
Her hazel eyes quickly raked over Rebecca, looking for a sign. It was a lie, she told herself, nothing but a lie. And yet for all she could tell, the other woman’s face held no hint that she was trying to play with Yelina. Which either meant that the prosecutor had a wonderful poker face and a penchant for cruelty or…
It was true.
“Horatio,” she started only to stop. The brunette swallowed hard, licking her lips quickly. Reality clawed at her throat, making her feel as though speaking - breathing - was impossible. “Has a son,” she finished eventually. Her words were quiet and tentative.
But the admittance seemed to pound in her head, felt deafening to her own ears.
Horatio had a child. No, not even a child anymore; Kyle Harmon was a teenager. And her brother-in-law had been lying about this since… since before Ray Junior was born.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. He’d lied to her. Again. First Madison and now Kyle Harmon.
How… was that even possible?
How had she not realized the truth?
Because she’d seen it in the boy’s features, she’d seen it in the way Horatio acted. But Yelina hadn’t figured it out. Her eyes instinctively glanced down at her hands. Why hadn’t she…
“I don’t blame you,” Rebecca interrupted in a sickeningly false tone. “Horatio’s always kept his secrets, and if there was ever something to keep hidden, this would be that, right?”
Yelina had nothing to say in response. There were no words at the moment that could give voice to the sharp sting of this betrayal. And even if there were, she had no intentions of showing that side of herself to this woman. She glared at Rebecca.
But the prosecutor didn’t stop there. “I know it’s upsetting,” she said. Tentatively, she slid her hand over to Yelina’s, touching it. What could have been a sympathetic gesture felt all wrong coming from Rebecca. The simple act burned, the brunette thought. “But I think the bigger concern here is the city of Miami and whether or not you can effectively protect them.”
Yelina pulled her hand away, instinctively rubbing at the now seemingly tainted bit of olive skin with her fingers. And though she was still in shock, Rebecca’s words pierced through the numbing veil that had wrapped itself around her mind. “You don’t think I can do my job?” she asked, the irritation seeping through each and every syllable.
The lawyer gave her a false smile and began tapping her fingers against the metal desk. Mealy-mouthed, she told Yelina, “I understand that you want to do a good job. And hey, I couldn’t be a detective - it’s a hard profession. That you did it well for so many years... that says something. But I think we need to take a step back and… examine this as rationally as possible.”
Rebecca turned to face the brunette even more so, and Yelina had no doubt that it was to see just how badly her words would cut through. “The fact of the matter is, no matter how well intentioned, you’re just… better off doing something else with your life.”
Yelina frowned, gritted her teeth to stop herself from hitting the woman. “That is just your opinion.”
“It would be anyone’s opinion if they knew the truth!” Rebecca exclaimed. “I mean a detective needs to have insight and instinct. And how intuitive and intelligent can you be if you don’t even know that your brother-in-law has been hiding some kid from you for a good sixteen years?”
Yelina wanted to kill her. Seriously felt the urge to bludgeon the woman to death. It was a pet peeve of hers - women who tried so blatantly hard to get what they wanted. And often times, these situations reared their ugly head when someone would flirt with Horatio (which, she thought at that moment, ironically would probably never happen again).
But this was no different. The way Rebecca was so… intent on being right and getting ahead - and in this instance, causing her pain - was repulsive. The desire to hit the prosecutor had always been there, but now, it was almost unbearable.
Her hands were clenched into fists, ready to strike. She bit down on her tongue so hard that tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She was poised to attack, teetering at the very edge of her control.
It wasn’t the first time that Yelina had become this angry, but this was the first time she no longer cared. If she punched Rebecca, oh well; that was a price she was all but eager to pay. The feel of the woman’s blood on her hands would be a reward. And it didn’t even matter that she’d probably go to jail.
It definitely didn’t matter that she no longer had Horatio as a safety net.
Of course, he would try. But, as the minutes ticked by, the truth was finally sinking in, each second adding new understanding to the betrayal she had inherently felt. And her shock was giving way to rage, which meant all she wanted to do was lash out and strike everything in her path.
“Do you have anything to say?” Rebecca asked. “Or am I to understand that your silence is a sign of concurrence?”
“No,” Yelina hissed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her knuckles had turned an almost ghostly white. And she could feel her nails digging painfully into the soft flesh of her palm.
“No?” The prosecutor sounded confused. “Yelina, I know this is hard, but come on. We both know that if someone can lie to you for so long, that you’re not exactly the best judge of character. And -”
But whatever she was going to add went unsaid, thankfully, because it was Rick’s threatening voice that filled the air. “You’re gonna need to stop now,” he ordered.
Rebecca stood up and spun around, her hands on her hips. “You don’t have any authority to tell me -”
“That’s funny,” he snapped. “Cause I just did.”
“Aw, don’t be mad that I told her the truth first,” she said as though she were talking to a little boy. And as Rick began to explain how he never had any intention of telling Yelina what happened, the brunette couldn’t help but turn around in her chair.
Was it written in stone that everyone else had to know about these things before she did?
“Like you don’t want to hurt Horatio?” Rebecca retorted in response to Stetler.
“I’m not saying that,” he said.
The throbbing in her head seemed to worsen as the other two people in the room began to fight. And deciding she’d had enough, Yelina stood up, grabbing her purse off of the table. Rick continued, seemingly unaware, “But using her to get to him is -”
“And since when do you give a shit about hurting innocent people?” Rebecca snarled.
“Since I learned that Yelina’s got a mean right hook” was the last thing the brunette heard as she left the room, the door clattering shut behind her.
The main area of the police department was still crowded with various people, walking and talking. And even though it was muffled, she could hear Rick and Rebecca still sniping at one another. Everywhere around her, there was the soft din of chatter, but Yelina couldn’t help but feel completely alone.
Not that she really wanted company.
Still too wound up, the brunette felt… almost claustrophobic. As though being in the presence of another human being would suffocate her.
And she knew that if that were really the case, then she should leave now, escape before someone in the building recognized her and wanted to talk to her. Or before Horatio, if he was even around, had a chance to see her. Away from Rebecca, her murderous rage had subsided, but not completely, and she really didn’t have it in her to confront her brother-in-law just yet.
But, despite knowing she should leave, Yelina felt herself unable to move. It felt as though her body and mind worked on completely different circuits. Somehow... she was simultaneously numb and in more pain than she thought Horatio could have ever caused her to feel.
Her stomach churned, and for a second she thought she might throw up.
How could he do this to her?
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. Rationally, Yelina understood that she had no… right to demand the truth from him. He wasn’t her child, wasn’t someone who had to answer to her. And if Horatio wanted to lie or keep this a secret, then she’d never really had any ground to stand on to ask him otherwise.
More than that the sister-in-law was completely aware that she had no right to lay claim to him; if he wanted to have sex with another woman, she was hardly in a position to stop him. But…
Wasn’t there some overriding duty here? To tell the truth to your family if only so bitchy prosecutors didn’t reveal your secret first? And wasn’t it wrong to deny that there was something unique about a case when asked by a family member?
Maybe she really didn’t have a right to demand answers, but… that didn’t mean Horatio should lie.
The sad truth was she didn’t know where the moral high ground lay. Because her brother-in-law had always been the most honest, most trustworthy person she knew. His moral compass never truly seemed to waiver, so maybe…
No, her mind counted. She would not wonder if he had done the right thing here. As upset as she was, as much as Yelina wanted Rebecca to be wrong about the whole ordeal, she would not second guess what she knew to be true: it was wrong to lie to your family.
It was wrong to lie to the people you loved.
But now, and she couldn’t help the whimper that rose in her throat as she thought this, Yelina doubted that to be true. She had always been so sure that Horatio was attracted to her, that he cared about her, and wanted her to be happy. Maybe there had been brief moments of doubt in the past, but she had always come to that same conclusion. That despite his fundamental inability to grasp his feelings for her, he did want her to be happy. With the truth out now, though, that seemed almost impossible.
A hand clasped down on her shoulder, and her body, almost of its own volition, spun around. The force of her movement knocked the gentle appendage away, and Yelina had to stop herself from giving into her anger and hitting Rick, who stood before her.
“You should be celebrating,” she accused, her voice a deep hiss.
“You may not believe me, but I didn’t want this.”
“Of course you did.”
His hand sought out one of hers. From the way he was looking at her, she could tell that he was trying to be sympathetic. But it was a wasted effort on her, because his pity was the last thing she wanted. His fingers clasping around hers, she was abruptly pulled from her thoughts. Quickly she tried to wrench her hand out of his way.
But he was ultimately stronger, not only maintaining his grip but pulling her closer as well. “I wanted you to know the truth, okay? Because I thought you had the right to know. But I didn’t want you to find it out like that. Not from her and not when you weren’t prepared to hear the truth.”
Yelina didn’t know whether or not to believe him. How could she make any decision when Rebecca was right about her judgment?
She swallowed hard, trying to think of the right words to say to him. She should yell at him and push him away, because Rick could easily be lying. But the anger that threatened to overflow seemed, oddly enough, hard to force out. The way her hand, trapped in his fingers, rubbed against the soft cotton of his striped pink shirt was almost more than she could bear.
It was familiar to her, which she needed right now more than anything. And maybe the comfort was forced, but… she wanted it.
Perhaps sensing her weakness, Rick offered, in an almost tender way, “Let me drive you home.”
She shook her head instinctively, the word, “no,” being blurted out before she had a chance to stop herself. As much as Yelina wanted his comfort, it was hard to overcome her natural reflexes. Which, when it came to Stetler, always involved being contrary and stubborn. And knowing that, she couldn’t squash the voice inside of her that said she couldn’t be near him right now, because he continually brought out the worst in her.
He shook his head and tugged on her captured hand to pull her closer. His fingers snaking upwards, the dark-haired man grabbed her by the elbows. The touch, she thought, was strong - firm enough to let her know that she wasn’t going to be able to free herself without his consent.
And yet it wasn’t a violent move on his part; he was manhandling her but in an attempt to soothe. His thumbs every so often stroked over her white linen jacket on the fleshy underside of her elbow. “You’re just saying that,” he countered.
“No, I’m not,” Yelina said, her voice not nearly convincing enough.
Mentally, the brunette kicked herself. She should either accept his help or hit him and move along, she thought. Because vacillating was wearing on what little self-control she had left. “Let me go,” she ordered, her voice sounding petulant even to her own ears. In the end, she decided, anger was the better way to go. It was easier, and more than that, blanketing herself in her own fury was safer. Because there was no one else to rely on, no one else she had to trust.
But Rick wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Not until you agree to let me take you home, Yelina.”
She tried to pull away from him to no avail. “I can drive myself, thank you.”
“You’re too upset!” he snapped irritated.
There was no retort for that. Yelina could hardly deny the truth in those words, and she had no intention of giving into him. Once more, the brunette tried to pull her arms away.
But he was stronger, unfortunately. And the more she fought him, the closer he pulled her. “Stop,” Rick finally told her.
If there was anything that would make her want to struggle some more, that was it. And she let out an “Hmph,” as she tried to free her arms from his hands.
“Stop it,” he nearly barked, jerking her forward so quickly that she teetered on her heels. “Stop it,” Stetler repeated. “You’re upset, I get that. But look around you. Look where you are. You really want to attract attention to yourself right now?”
His voice sounded incredibly patronizing, but it felt like a cool balm to the inner flames that burned within her. Seemingly jerking awake to the reality around her, Yelina realized that he was right. If she kept acting this way, the only thing that would happen is more people would approach her. And it was bad enough dealing with Stetler’s concern.
She stopped struggling.
“Good girl,” he said, letting go of one of her arms and using his hand to cup her cheek.
She wanted to punch him.
“Now… let me drive you home.” The brunette opened her mouth to say no, but he cut her off. “The other option is I get an officer to drive you home… or you get a police escort. Neither of those is very quiet.” Brushing a curl away from her face, he said then, “So what’s it gonna be?”
If there had ever been a moment in her mind where she’d forgotten why she hated Stetler, Yelina remembered her reasons now. Biting down on the inside of her mouth, the brunette knew she had no choice.
“Fine,” she said glumly. “But you should know... this changes nothing.”
Rick only replied, “Atta girl,” as he led her out.
End (24/??)