No Other One, Chapter 24
Title: No Other One, Chapter 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, Chapter 22, and Chapter 23
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, so don't sue me.
“Anger ventilated often hurries toward forgiveness; and concealed often hardens into revenge.” - Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
The written and signed confession tucked under his arm, Horatio felt victorious. Even though Rebecca was looking to punish him, in the end, she couldn’t ignore the evidence. And all of it pointed to Michael Gannon as the mastermind and the other teenager, Adam Jackson, as the main co-conspirator. On the other hand, none of it, the redhead thought with relief, demonstrated Kyle eagerly going along with the kidnapping.
Which would make Rebecca’s case against his son hard to win. And Horatio knew just how much she liked winning.
Calleigh was taking the husband right now to processing, and the lieutenant had to stop himself from running down the hallways with the confession in his hands. Heading towards the main entrance area, Horatio forced himself to contain his mirth. Especially since his problems were more than likely just beginning, it felt wrong to celebrate just yet; God only knew that if Rebecca did let Kyle off, then the real work would start.
Hopefully the boy would appreciate everything Horatio had done in the last day or so. But… the redhead knew that it was ridiculous to think that that made up for everything he hadn’t done.
Entering the main lobby of the police station, however, the thought was forced abruptly from his mind. Because standing in the very area he was headed was his sister-in-law.
She was turned away from him, but Horatio knew it was her. Dark curls tumbling down her back, Yelina was the only person he knew who would wear a pristine white suit. And safe from her gaze, the redhead was content to look at her for a moment.
But it was a feeling that didn’t last long.
From one of the rooms Stetler appeared, and Horatio watched as the dark-haired man grabbed Yelina. And when she whipped around, he could see she was upset.
The proverbial warning bells went off, and he could feel his blood begin to rise, could feel his jaw twitch. He didn’t know why his sister-in-law was here to begin with, but in this instance, it didn’t matter; he didn’t care. Stetler was upsetting her, grabbing her, which was all Horatio needed to know.
His feet moved forward of their own volition. But he’d barely moved three feet before Rebecca Nevins appeared in front of him.
“Horatio,” she said. “You paged me?”
Her timing couldn’t have been worse. His eyes glanced over his shoulder, and he could see Stetler was still harassing Yelina. But at the same time, Rebecca stood in front of him, annoyed, and Horatio knew she wouldn’t tolerate his hesitation forever.
“Rebecca…” His voice trailed off, as his attention turned solely to his sister-in-law.
“Look, I get it. You don’t want your son to go to jail,” the prosecutor said. “But it’s going to happen.”
Horatio had known that there would be a time when he would have to choose between his sister-in-law and his son. Truth be told, he’d thought that it would come later, when he’d actually told Yelina the truth. But here he was now, being forced to make that choice. If he ignored Rebecca and went to the other woman’s aid, then there’d be no convincing the lawyer about Kyle. She would, the redhead thought, refuse to accept his evidence out of spite.
He shifted on his feet, as Rebecca launched into some argument about how repeat juvenile defenders, like Kyle, would end up in jail anyway. He had to choose, had to make this decision now…
And… Horatio did what he thought any father would do.
Yelina could defend herself, and if not there were dozens of cops scattered about. But his son was going to be in prison if he didn’t stop that right now, and there was no one else who would be able to save Kyle.
Quickly, if painfully, Horatio turned his attention solely onto Rebecca. His sister-in-law would have to do this on her own.
“About that actually…”
The prosecutor rolled her eyes. “Come on, Horatio. You know my case is strong. And unless you’ve got something else -”
“I do.”
She seemed perplexed by this. “Really?” Stepping closer to him, Rebecca asked, “The real kind or the type of evidence someone fabricates to save their son?”
Horatio flashed his hurt blue eyes at her but handed her the evidence packet and signed confession nonetheless. “Read it for yourself,” he told her. “You’ll see that it’s very real. All evidence was processed by CSI Duquesne.”
“Your friend.”
Well, that didn’t exactly seem true anymore, the redhead thought, the pain of the situation tugging at him once more. The easy back and forth he’d shared with Calleigh had been nearly absent last night. And while… the blonde might have begun to trust him again, she surely wasn’t going to fabricate evidence for him. He knew that much.
A pang in his stomach radiated through him then. And Horatio couldn’t help but feel as though he’d lost so much by one simple action. If only he’d known that Julia was pregnant… if only he’d known Julia at all.
“If you don’t want to believe her abilities,” Horatio said, pulling himself from his thoughts. “Then you can talk to Michael Gannon himself. There’s a signed confession in there for you to read.” He inwardly smirked as Rebecca flipped through the file. “But let me sum up what it says. Mr. Gannon confesses to having his wife kidnapped after she discovered that he was having sex with a teenage boy.”
“Your son?” the prosecutor asked hopefully, and Horatio had to take a moment to avoid saying something he would regret.
“No,” he told her scathingly. “Adam Jackson was the man’s… lover. Gannon told the boy that if he did not find some method of disposing of his wife, their affair would end.”
“And the kid agreed?” she asked in disbelief.
“Apparently.”
She shifted on her feet, her fingers drumming against the manila folder. “Well, I’ll have to read through the entire evidence package before making any decision.”
“Rebecca,” he said warningly.
“Like I said, I know you want your son out of his holding cell,” she said. “But I’m not going to okay that without sitting down and reading what you found… Give me an hour, all right?”
He wanted to demand his son, wanted to ask her if she really thought he would lie about what he’d learned. But the truth was… Horatio feared what her answer might be, and so he nodded his head. Because he knew it was wrong to expect everyone to trust him like they once had after they’d learned about Kyle.
“I’ll page you when I’m done,” she said quietly walking off.
And soon after she’d left, the redhead realized that his sister-in-law was no longer in the lobby area. Looking around, he also didn’t see Stetler. Which couldn’t be good, because the way the IAB agent was looking at Yelina tugged at Horatio’s conscience. Neither of those two people would walk away civilly, not after Rick had grabbed her like that.
The brother-in-law felt the urge to find her… go to her house, do something to know she was okay. But the father, the part of him that seemed to be growing exponentially by the moment, knew that he needed to stick around. Because the closer he was to his son, the sooner he could get to him when Rebecca called.
And it bothered Horatio that his priorities could change so easily in a day’s time.
But there was no going back now, no undoing this… Yelina would just have to find a way to fend for herself.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It was warm outside, a truly beautiful day, the brunette thought. But all she wanted was cold weather, rain, and a blanket to hide under.
“Where’s your car?” Rick asked, breaking through her thoughts.
After everything that had happened though, Yelina couldn’t remember, try as she might. And looking around the parking lot, the brunette couldn’t spot it, but she refused to say anything to Stetler. Childish as it was, she hoped that the silent treatment would wear on his nerves, finally getting him to leave her alone.
“Fine,” he said irritably, as though she had forced him into this situation. “Gimme your purse.” When she didn’t, the dark-haired man snatched it roughly off of her shoulder, eagerly opening it. His fingers dug through the contents of the red bag, completely unconcerned for her privacy. Grabbing her keys, Rick used the alarm system to find her car.
His hand coming to rest on her hip, his fingers pressing firmly into her skin, he directed her to the car. “You know you could make this easier on us both. It doesn’t have to be like pulling teeth.” He shoved her purse back at her.
Yelina wanted to tell him that it actually did need to be this difficult. If only because she didn’t, or they didn’t, know how to do it any other way. But that would involve speaking to him, which the brunette had no intention of doing. Besides, she thought, as he pushed her through a row of cars, Stetler was in his own world right now. So convinced of his own rightness, nothing could say would matter.
Her red heels clicking on the black asphalt, she slowed her pace when they reached her car. And though Rick wasn’t a car enthusiast, the dark-haired man couldn’t help but stop to admire the new vehicle. His brown eyes raked over the silvery white convertible, much in the same way he liked to appraise her body.
Honestly, Yelina had come to regret the purchase. After Raymond had died, after the rest of her family had fled to Miami once more, her mother had convinced her that a reward was in order. For putting up with her husband’s immoral and unconscionable ways, she’d said at the time.
Yelina hadn’t thought that it was fair to reward herself with anything for what had happened. Her own son had almost died, thanks to her inability to leave Ray. But the daughter had agreed to buy herself something expensive, if only to avoid repeating the conversation with her mother in the future.
And the car she’d bought was beautiful; the brunette didn’t doubt that at all. But the money used to buy the vehicle came mainly from the income Ray had made in Brazil. Which meant that it was more than likely drug money or cash he’d borrowed from Horatio.
And while legally, it would probably be impossible to prove that she was complicit in her husband’s actions… the convertible weighed on her conscience heavily. Wrapped in horsepower and leather seats was the proof, in her own mind, that she had been complacent.
“Nice car,” Rick said. The brunette knew it was a compliment, maybe even a way to soothe the tension between them both. But he didn’t see what the car really was, and that just made her hate him more.
He led her over to the passenger side, opening the door for her. But she made no move to take a seat. “Get in,” he ordered.
When Yelina continued to stand there, Stetler finally forced her inside, one hand pushing down on her shoulder, the other splayed across her lower back. It was awkward, and she tried to refuse as best as she could, but eventually he won the silent argument. Because after everything that she’d learned about Horatio, the truth was the brunette didn’t have that much fight left in her.
She plopped down uncharacteristically into the seat, crossing her arms in a huff. Slamming the door shut, Stetler stalked to the other side of the car before getting in. His hands smashed the keys roughly into the ignition.
But the dark-haired man made no move, and she wondered for a moment why they were sitting in the parking lot.
“Put your seat belt on,” he ordered her finally.
It made no sense to be petulant, but Yelina had no interest in being cooperative. Not now. “No,” she said.
“Yes,” Stetler hissed.
“No.”
They went back and forth like this, getting louder and louder. Until finally, he, his cheeks red with anger, reached across her, trying to grab the belt himself. His arm brushed up against her stomach, and something inside of her seemed to unhinge itself.
She was a grown woman, an adult. But for years, it seemed like someone else was always around taking care of her, or at least trying to do that. First, there had been Ray, and then when he had died, Yelina had allowed Horatio to… fill that role.
Which in a way made no sense at all to her. The brunette was not a fan of men who insisted on caring for her, who treated her as anything less than equal. And yet… looking back at it now, she could see how Ray (and Horatio) had been that sort of guy.
Her brother-in-law had never really wanted to be that for her. Any closeness with her was wrong in his eyes. But that hadn’t ever really stopped either of them from dancing around that thin line between friends and something else.
And then… maybe because of Madison and Suzie, Yelina had moved onto Rick, and he’d fulfilled that role as best as he could.
Best as he could. That was really the key phrase with all of these men, wasn’t it? They all insinuated themselves into her life, and in the end, they all failed to measure up, to actually be what they said they would be. The anger, forged from all of the past betrayals and today’s discovery, clutched at her throat, ripping away what little control she had left.
Just as Rick’s hand grasped the seat belt buckle, Yelina snapped. She shoved his arm away hard. “I said no,” she snarled. He scoffed, reaching over once more, and she pushed him away again.
“Stop,” he told her. Once again, his hand started to make its way over, but this time, she slapped his forearm. Hard. Rick sat in the driver’s seat silently for a moment, and glancing over, Yelina thought she saw his mouth forming the first ten numbers.
Eventually the dark-haired man turned to her. “You’re lucky I’ve been taking an anger management course since we broke up.”
And though her own fury refused to let up, somewhere in the back of her mind, she was proud of him for that. It was something she’d always thought he could benefit from… though sometimes, the brunette thought the same about herself. At least right now, anyway, part of her worried what she might do while this angry.
But Yelina quickly shoved that thought aside.
Too late to turn back.
She was mad, she told herself, feeling the rage grow inside of herself. And when he tried to grab the seat belt again, she snatched his arm, as she pushed him away. He was wearing a suit and long-sleeve shirt, but the brunette used her nails to dig in as deeply as possible, trying to scratch him.
She wanted him to bleed.
“You fucking bitch!” he yelled, trying to wrench his arm away from her. She desperately wanted to hold on, because as soon as she let go, anger management or no, the brunette could tell what would happen. His eyes were black, his face contorted in rage.
As they fought over the appendage, Stetler turned his body. Raising his free arm into the air, his hand came crashing down, slapping her thigh. The white linen skirt she was wearing did little to muffle the sound or absorb the force.
Her breath came out along with a whimper, and Yelina couldn’t help but let go of his arm.
Now free, his right hand rained blows down onto her thigh. Seemingly without any thought at all, he slapped her leg three times in a row, each strike stinging more than the last.
The tears she had tried so hard to hold back earlier sprang from her eyes, spilling down her cheeks completely unwanted. And when he stopped, there was nothing but the sound of car engine, her unsteady and his hard breathing.
They sat there in silence, her eyes trained on the police station. The desire to rub her burning thigh was almost overwhelming, as was the need to wipe away the tears running down her cheeks. But Yelina wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, wouldn’t let him know just how much it hurt.
After a moment, Stetler said, “Put on your seat belt.” His voice was terse, and she could tell that he was still angry. And maybe she was a masochist not to obey, but the brunette stubbornly refused to do so.
He reached over, grabbing her chin in his right hand and forcefully turning her head so that she would look at him. “Listen to me,” he told her. She tried to turn away from him, so Stetler dug his fingers into her flesh; Yelina prayed that it wouldn’t bruise. “Uh uh,” he said. “Look at me. I’m not going to do this today.”
His eyes were so black that they looked like coal. “I’m trying to do something nice, so stop acting like a little cunt,” he ordered. “Now you have two choices: you either behave and buckle up your seat belt. Or I’m gonna shove your ass in the trunk.” The anger in his voice left no doubt in her mind that Stetler meant what he said.
And so she had no choice but to take the seat belt in her hands and strap herself into the car. He watched as she did so, perhaps because the dark-haired man didn’t trust her to actually follow through with it.
But once the tiny click filled the air, Stetler let out an audible sigh of relief.
Reaching back over once more, his touch was almost… loving. His fingers tucked a curl behind her ear before his thumb gently wiped away a tear on her cheek. “I’m sorry,” Rick said so quietly that she wasn’t even sure he’d really said it.
As he drove out of the parking lot, his right hand traveled downward, coming to rest on her thing. And if Yelina had doubted an apology before, she knew this was one now. Because the palm of his hand began to gently rub circles into the area where he had slapped her.
The brunette didn’t know what to say in response. Rick was being nice enough now, but it was so easy for him to switch personalities. Which meant she had no desire to make nice with him. And, really, what should she tell him anyway?
That she understood his frustration and anger? Because, as much as she had always wanted to comprehend his violent rage, she didn’t. Should she say that she forgave him? Because Yelina did not feel as though a simple apology made up for anything. Especially not today, when the world she’d lived in seemed to have been irrevocably broken.
There were no other options, no other words she might tell him, save for “I’m sorry.” And Yelina felt anything but contrite. Even if some part of her should feel bad for being stubborn and unappreciative, the brunette didn’t have it in her to apologize. That was, at the moment, asking too much of her.
So instead they continued to drive in silence, one of his hands on the wheel, the other on her. It was almost too much for her, the picture they made. The brunette couldn’t help but think that someone looking in the car would believe they were a couple. His hand warm and gentle on her, it would seem to anyone else that he was doting on her. But they were far from that, far from anything that even remotely resembled normal or happy. And she hated it.
What had she done in life to deserve such convoluted and happy relationships?
The answer eluded her.
But then they passed an intersection with a homeless man, standing by one of the stop signs. In his dirty hands was a piece of cardboard with the words, “Will work for food,” written in marker. And another question entered her mind.
“I suppose you’re firing me then?” Her voice was pinched, each syllable thickened by her accent. She didn’t want to sound upset, but apparently, Yelina wasn’t capable of anything else at the moment.
Her hazel eyes slid carefully over to Rick, who was more concentrated on driving than answering her question.
Eventually though, his fingers crept down to her bare knee, squeezing it lightly. He told her, “Nah. Already filed the paperwork, and if I fire you, then that’ll mean I have to fill out more forms, and it hardly seems worth it.” His answer was odd, confusing.
Rick took a right turn, and as an afterthought, the dark-haired man said, “Besides, I like having you around.”
And it made all the sense in the world to her then - why he would insist on being the one to interview her, why he would be so curious about Rio, and why he should want to drive her home.
Rick… liked her, missed her even.
Perhaps Rebecca was right about her inability to perceive things, because thinking about it now, it seemed pretty obvious to Yelina.
But the truth was, she had been so bogged down in Rick’s problems, in their obvious… anger over the various things that had happened, that it had been so hard to see. And given what had happened today, the brunette couldn’t help but be just… a little glad that someone appreciated her company.
Even if he was so horrible about showing it.
As they continued to drive, Yelina took his hand.
Maybe things didn’t have to be so bad after all.
End (25/??)
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, Chapter 22, and Chapter 23
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, so don't sue me.
“Anger ventilated often hurries toward forgiveness; and concealed often hardens into revenge.” - Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
The written and signed confession tucked under his arm, Horatio felt victorious. Even though Rebecca was looking to punish him, in the end, she couldn’t ignore the evidence. And all of it pointed to Michael Gannon as the mastermind and the other teenager, Adam Jackson, as the main co-conspirator. On the other hand, none of it, the redhead thought with relief, demonstrated Kyle eagerly going along with the kidnapping.
Which would make Rebecca’s case against his son hard to win. And Horatio knew just how much she liked winning.
Calleigh was taking the husband right now to processing, and the lieutenant had to stop himself from running down the hallways with the confession in his hands. Heading towards the main entrance area, Horatio forced himself to contain his mirth. Especially since his problems were more than likely just beginning, it felt wrong to celebrate just yet; God only knew that if Rebecca did let Kyle off, then the real work would start.
Hopefully the boy would appreciate everything Horatio had done in the last day or so. But… the redhead knew that it was ridiculous to think that that made up for everything he hadn’t done.
Entering the main lobby of the police station, however, the thought was forced abruptly from his mind. Because standing in the very area he was headed was his sister-in-law.
She was turned away from him, but Horatio knew it was her. Dark curls tumbling down her back, Yelina was the only person he knew who would wear a pristine white suit. And safe from her gaze, the redhead was content to look at her for a moment.
But it was a feeling that didn’t last long.
From one of the rooms Stetler appeared, and Horatio watched as the dark-haired man grabbed Yelina. And when she whipped around, he could see she was upset.
The proverbial warning bells went off, and he could feel his blood begin to rise, could feel his jaw twitch. He didn’t know why his sister-in-law was here to begin with, but in this instance, it didn’t matter; he didn’t care. Stetler was upsetting her, grabbing her, which was all Horatio needed to know.
His feet moved forward of their own volition. But he’d barely moved three feet before Rebecca Nevins appeared in front of him.
“Horatio,” she said. “You paged me?”
Her timing couldn’t have been worse. His eyes glanced over his shoulder, and he could see Stetler was still harassing Yelina. But at the same time, Rebecca stood in front of him, annoyed, and Horatio knew she wouldn’t tolerate his hesitation forever.
“Rebecca…” His voice trailed off, as his attention turned solely to his sister-in-law.
“Look, I get it. You don’t want your son to go to jail,” the prosecutor said. “But it’s going to happen.”
Horatio had known that there would be a time when he would have to choose between his sister-in-law and his son. Truth be told, he’d thought that it would come later, when he’d actually told Yelina the truth. But here he was now, being forced to make that choice. If he ignored Rebecca and went to the other woman’s aid, then there’d be no convincing the lawyer about Kyle. She would, the redhead thought, refuse to accept his evidence out of spite.
He shifted on his feet, as Rebecca launched into some argument about how repeat juvenile defenders, like Kyle, would end up in jail anyway. He had to choose, had to make this decision now…
And… Horatio did what he thought any father would do.
Yelina could defend herself, and if not there were dozens of cops scattered about. But his son was going to be in prison if he didn’t stop that right now, and there was no one else who would be able to save Kyle.
Quickly, if painfully, Horatio turned his attention solely onto Rebecca. His sister-in-law would have to do this on her own.
“About that actually…”
The prosecutor rolled her eyes. “Come on, Horatio. You know my case is strong. And unless you’ve got something else -”
“I do.”
She seemed perplexed by this. “Really?” Stepping closer to him, Rebecca asked, “The real kind or the type of evidence someone fabricates to save their son?”
Horatio flashed his hurt blue eyes at her but handed her the evidence packet and signed confession nonetheless. “Read it for yourself,” he told her. “You’ll see that it’s very real. All evidence was processed by CSI Duquesne.”
“Your friend.”
Well, that didn’t exactly seem true anymore, the redhead thought, the pain of the situation tugging at him once more. The easy back and forth he’d shared with Calleigh had been nearly absent last night. And while… the blonde might have begun to trust him again, she surely wasn’t going to fabricate evidence for him. He knew that much.
A pang in his stomach radiated through him then. And Horatio couldn’t help but feel as though he’d lost so much by one simple action. If only he’d known that Julia was pregnant… if only he’d known Julia at all.
“If you don’t want to believe her abilities,” Horatio said, pulling himself from his thoughts. “Then you can talk to Michael Gannon himself. There’s a signed confession in there for you to read.” He inwardly smirked as Rebecca flipped through the file. “But let me sum up what it says. Mr. Gannon confesses to having his wife kidnapped after she discovered that he was having sex with a teenage boy.”
“Your son?” the prosecutor asked hopefully, and Horatio had to take a moment to avoid saying something he would regret.
“No,” he told her scathingly. “Adam Jackson was the man’s… lover. Gannon told the boy that if he did not find some method of disposing of his wife, their affair would end.”
“And the kid agreed?” she asked in disbelief.
“Apparently.”
She shifted on her feet, her fingers drumming against the manila folder. “Well, I’ll have to read through the entire evidence package before making any decision.”
“Rebecca,” he said warningly.
“Like I said, I know you want your son out of his holding cell,” she said. “But I’m not going to okay that without sitting down and reading what you found… Give me an hour, all right?”
He wanted to demand his son, wanted to ask her if she really thought he would lie about what he’d learned. But the truth was… Horatio feared what her answer might be, and so he nodded his head. Because he knew it was wrong to expect everyone to trust him like they once had after they’d learned about Kyle.
“I’ll page you when I’m done,” she said quietly walking off.
And soon after she’d left, the redhead realized that his sister-in-law was no longer in the lobby area. Looking around, he also didn’t see Stetler. Which couldn’t be good, because the way the IAB agent was looking at Yelina tugged at Horatio’s conscience. Neither of those two people would walk away civilly, not after Rick had grabbed her like that.
The brother-in-law felt the urge to find her… go to her house, do something to know she was okay. But the father, the part of him that seemed to be growing exponentially by the moment, knew that he needed to stick around. Because the closer he was to his son, the sooner he could get to him when Rebecca called.
And it bothered Horatio that his priorities could change so easily in a day’s time.
But there was no going back now, no undoing this… Yelina would just have to find a way to fend for herself.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It was warm outside, a truly beautiful day, the brunette thought. But all she wanted was cold weather, rain, and a blanket to hide under.
“Where’s your car?” Rick asked, breaking through her thoughts.
After everything that had happened though, Yelina couldn’t remember, try as she might. And looking around the parking lot, the brunette couldn’t spot it, but she refused to say anything to Stetler. Childish as it was, she hoped that the silent treatment would wear on his nerves, finally getting him to leave her alone.
“Fine,” he said irritably, as though she had forced him into this situation. “Gimme your purse.” When she didn’t, the dark-haired man snatched it roughly off of her shoulder, eagerly opening it. His fingers dug through the contents of the red bag, completely unconcerned for her privacy. Grabbing her keys, Rick used the alarm system to find her car.
His hand coming to rest on her hip, his fingers pressing firmly into her skin, he directed her to the car. “You know you could make this easier on us both. It doesn’t have to be like pulling teeth.” He shoved her purse back at her.
Yelina wanted to tell him that it actually did need to be this difficult. If only because she didn’t, or they didn’t, know how to do it any other way. But that would involve speaking to him, which the brunette had no intention of doing. Besides, she thought, as he pushed her through a row of cars, Stetler was in his own world right now. So convinced of his own rightness, nothing could say would matter.
Her red heels clicking on the black asphalt, she slowed her pace when they reached her car. And though Rick wasn’t a car enthusiast, the dark-haired man couldn’t help but stop to admire the new vehicle. His brown eyes raked over the silvery white convertible, much in the same way he liked to appraise her body.
Honestly, Yelina had come to regret the purchase. After Raymond had died, after the rest of her family had fled to Miami once more, her mother had convinced her that a reward was in order. For putting up with her husband’s immoral and unconscionable ways, she’d said at the time.
Yelina hadn’t thought that it was fair to reward herself with anything for what had happened. Her own son had almost died, thanks to her inability to leave Ray. But the daughter had agreed to buy herself something expensive, if only to avoid repeating the conversation with her mother in the future.
And the car she’d bought was beautiful; the brunette didn’t doubt that at all. But the money used to buy the vehicle came mainly from the income Ray had made in Brazil. Which meant that it was more than likely drug money or cash he’d borrowed from Horatio.
And while legally, it would probably be impossible to prove that she was complicit in her husband’s actions… the convertible weighed on her conscience heavily. Wrapped in horsepower and leather seats was the proof, in her own mind, that she had been complacent.
“Nice car,” Rick said. The brunette knew it was a compliment, maybe even a way to soothe the tension between them both. But he didn’t see what the car really was, and that just made her hate him more.
He led her over to the passenger side, opening the door for her. But she made no move to take a seat. “Get in,” he ordered.
When Yelina continued to stand there, Stetler finally forced her inside, one hand pushing down on her shoulder, the other splayed across her lower back. It was awkward, and she tried to refuse as best as she could, but eventually he won the silent argument. Because after everything that she’d learned about Horatio, the truth was the brunette didn’t have that much fight left in her.
She plopped down uncharacteristically into the seat, crossing her arms in a huff. Slamming the door shut, Stetler stalked to the other side of the car before getting in. His hands smashed the keys roughly into the ignition.
But the dark-haired man made no move, and she wondered for a moment why they were sitting in the parking lot.
“Put your seat belt on,” he ordered her finally.
It made no sense to be petulant, but Yelina had no interest in being cooperative. Not now. “No,” she said.
“Yes,” Stetler hissed.
“No.”
They went back and forth like this, getting louder and louder. Until finally, he, his cheeks red with anger, reached across her, trying to grab the belt himself. His arm brushed up against her stomach, and something inside of her seemed to unhinge itself.
She was a grown woman, an adult. But for years, it seemed like someone else was always around taking care of her, or at least trying to do that. First, there had been Ray, and then when he had died, Yelina had allowed Horatio to… fill that role.
Which in a way made no sense at all to her. The brunette was not a fan of men who insisted on caring for her, who treated her as anything less than equal. And yet… looking back at it now, she could see how Ray (and Horatio) had been that sort of guy.
Her brother-in-law had never really wanted to be that for her. Any closeness with her was wrong in his eyes. But that hadn’t ever really stopped either of them from dancing around that thin line between friends and something else.
And then… maybe because of Madison and Suzie, Yelina had moved onto Rick, and he’d fulfilled that role as best as he could.
Best as he could. That was really the key phrase with all of these men, wasn’t it? They all insinuated themselves into her life, and in the end, they all failed to measure up, to actually be what they said they would be. The anger, forged from all of the past betrayals and today’s discovery, clutched at her throat, ripping away what little control she had left.
Just as Rick’s hand grasped the seat belt buckle, Yelina snapped. She shoved his arm away hard. “I said no,” she snarled. He scoffed, reaching over once more, and she pushed him away again.
“Stop,” he told her. Once again, his hand started to make its way over, but this time, she slapped his forearm. Hard. Rick sat in the driver’s seat silently for a moment, and glancing over, Yelina thought she saw his mouth forming the first ten numbers.
Eventually the dark-haired man turned to her. “You’re lucky I’ve been taking an anger management course since we broke up.”
And though her own fury refused to let up, somewhere in the back of her mind, she was proud of him for that. It was something she’d always thought he could benefit from… though sometimes, the brunette thought the same about herself. At least right now, anyway, part of her worried what she might do while this angry.
But Yelina quickly shoved that thought aside.
Too late to turn back.
She was mad, she told herself, feeling the rage grow inside of herself. And when he tried to grab the seat belt again, she snatched his arm, as she pushed him away. He was wearing a suit and long-sleeve shirt, but the brunette used her nails to dig in as deeply as possible, trying to scratch him.
She wanted him to bleed.
“You fucking bitch!” he yelled, trying to wrench his arm away from her. She desperately wanted to hold on, because as soon as she let go, anger management or no, the brunette could tell what would happen. His eyes were black, his face contorted in rage.
As they fought over the appendage, Stetler turned his body. Raising his free arm into the air, his hand came crashing down, slapping her thigh. The white linen skirt she was wearing did little to muffle the sound or absorb the force.
Her breath came out along with a whimper, and Yelina couldn’t help but let go of his arm.
Now free, his right hand rained blows down onto her thigh. Seemingly without any thought at all, he slapped her leg three times in a row, each strike stinging more than the last.
The tears she had tried so hard to hold back earlier sprang from her eyes, spilling down her cheeks completely unwanted. And when he stopped, there was nothing but the sound of car engine, her unsteady and his hard breathing.
They sat there in silence, her eyes trained on the police station. The desire to rub her burning thigh was almost overwhelming, as was the need to wipe away the tears running down her cheeks. But Yelina wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, wouldn’t let him know just how much it hurt.
After a moment, Stetler said, “Put on your seat belt.” His voice was terse, and she could tell that he was still angry. And maybe she was a masochist not to obey, but the brunette stubbornly refused to do so.
He reached over, grabbing her chin in his right hand and forcefully turning her head so that she would look at him. “Listen to me,” he told her. She tried to turn away from him, so Stetler dug his fingers into her flesh; Yelina prayed that it wouldn’t bruise. “Uh uh,” he said. “Look at me. I’m not going to do this today.”
His eyes were so black that they looked like coal. “I’m trying to do something nice, so stop acting like a little cunt,” he ordered. “Now you have two choices: you either behave and buckle up your seat belt. Or I’m gonna shove your ass in the trunk.” The anger in his voice left no doubt in her mind that Stetler meant what he said.
And so she had no choice but to take the seat belt in her hands and strap herself into the car. He watched as she did so, perhaps because the dark-haired man didn’t trust her to actually follow through with it.
But once the tiny click filled the air, Stetler let out an audible sigh of relief.
Reaching back over once more, his touch was almost… loving. His fingers tucked a curl behind her ear before his thumb gently wiped away a tear on her cheek. “I’m sorry,” Rick said so quietly that she wasn’t even sure he’d really said it.
As he drove out of the parking lot, his right hand traveled downward, coming to rest on her thing. And if Yelina had doubted an apology before, she knew this was one now. Because the palm of his hand began to gently rub circles into the area where he had slapped her.
The brunette didn’t know what to say in response. Rick was being nice enough now, but it was so easy for him to switch personalities. Which meant she had no desire to make nice with him. And, really, what should she tell him anyway?
That she understood his frustration and anger? Because, as much as she had always wanted to comprehend his violent rage, she didn’t. Should she say that she forgave him? Because Yelina did not feel as though a simple apology made up for anything. Especially not today, when the world she’d lived in seemed to have been irrevocably broken.
There were no other options, no other words she might tell him, save for “I’m sorry.” And Yelina felt anything but contrite. Even if some part of her should feel bad for being stubborn and unappreciative, the brunette didn’t have it in her to apologize. That was, at the moment, asking too much of her.
So instead they continued to drive in silence, one of his hands on the wheel, the other on her. It was almost too much for her, the picture they made. The brunette couldn’t help but think that someone looking in the car would believe they were a couple. His hand warm and gentle on her, it would seem to anyone else that he was doting on her. But they were far from that, far from anything that even remotely resembled normal or happy. And she hated it.
What had she done in life to deserve such convoluted and happy relationships?
The answer eluded her.
But then they passed an intersection with a homeless man, standing by one of the stop signs. In his dirty hands was a piece of cardboard with the words, “Will work for food,” written in marker. And another question entered her mind.
“I suppose you’re firing me then?” Her voice was pinched, each syllable thickened by her accent. She didn’t want to sound upset, but apparently, Yelina wasn’t capable of anything else at the moment.
Her hazel eyes slid carefully over to Rick, who was more concentrated on driving than answering her question.
Eventually though, his fingers crept down to her bare knee, squeezing it lightly. He told her, “Nah. Already filed the paperwork, and if I fire you, then that’ll mean I have to fill out more forms, and it hardly seems worth it.” His answer was odd, confusing.
Rick took a right turn, and as an afterthought, the dark-haired man said, “Besides, I like having you around.”
And it made all the sense in the world to her then - why he would insist on being the one to interview her, why he would be so curious about Rio, and why he should want to drive her home.
Rick… liked her, missed her even.
Perhaps Rebecca was right about her inability to perceive things, because thinking about it now, it seemed pretty obvious to Yelina.
But the truth was, she had been so bogged down in Rick’s problems, in their obvious… anger over the various things that had happened, that it had been so hard to see. And given what had happened today, the brunette couldn’t help but be just… a little glad that someone appreciated her company.
Even if he was so horrible about showing it.
As they continued to drive, Yelina took his hand.
Maybe things didn’t have to be so bad after all.
End (25/??)