No Other One, Chapter 57
Title: No Other One, Chapter 57
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, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51, Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, and Chapter 56.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“What occasions the greater part of the world’s quarrels? Simply this: Two minds meet and do not understand each other in time enough to prevent any shock of surprise at the conduct of either party.” - John Keats
He stood there in shock, his mind on her black eye.
Yelina’s battered face staying with him long after she’d driven away, Horatio had no idea what to say or do. His mouth slightly agape, he was at a loss, truth be told. Unsure if he should chase her down, find the vermin who had done this, or talk to the two teenagers who were intently watching him, he stayed frozen where he was.
Taking the moment to think about it, Horatio could hear his instincts saying that he needed to let Yelina go. She needed to calm down first, and even though she’d said she was done, he did not doubt for a minute that she would return. If only because he wasn’t sure what he would do without her, Horatio believed that, yes, she would come back.
Besides, he thought, a lopsided smile beginning to play on his features, finding her now wouldn’t do any good. As much as he didn’t like to believe in stereotypes about women… when Yelina was emotional, there was no point in trying to reason with her. She was either completely irrationally upset or despondent, and with no middle ground for him to tread, he wouldn’t get any answers out of her anyway.
A by-chance glance towards the children, on the other hand, said exactly the opposite.
They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, Ray Junior and Kyle, in the doorframe. And although Horatio hadn’t ever considered a family resemblance before, he could sort of see one now. Ray definitely favored his mother, of course, olive skin and dark curls directly stolen from her, and Kyle seemed like the perfect demonstration of recessive genes, his blond hair from neither his mother nor his father.
But there was a similarity between the two. Particularly around the eyes, the likeness in shape and color visible even from this distance, Horatio thought. Then again, he considered, cocking his head to the side, it might just have been the exact same expression on both of their faces that made them appear alike. Frowns on their faces, eyes wide and wild, they both looked upset, angry.
And they looked guilty as hell, Horatio decided, finally taking a step closer to them. His steps were tentative, his shoes making shallow indentations in the soft grass. Slowly bridging the gap between himself and the boys, Horatio took the time to contemplate how he was going to approach the situation. Given all of his failings with Kyle in the past week or so, as well as Ray Junior’s considerable temper, he wanted to play it careful. Because even though he was letting her go, Horatio needed to know what events had led to Yelina having a black eye; that, more than anything, was his priority right now, and it was clear that both Kyle and Ray Junior were aware of what had happened.
So he had a choice to make: how did he want to handle this?
His first instinct, surprisingly, was to make sure that Kyle was okay after being in the hospital all afternoon. But doing that would be, Horatio recognized, an uncomfortable demonstration of fatherhood and thus an instinct he reasoned himself out of almost immediately.
Given that Kyle had been to the hospital, the redhead couldn’t help but think that it was reasonable to assume the boy was okay. And even if it hadn’t been, Yelina had said on the phone that the teenager was fine, and as she was usually true to her word, the blond did seem okay.
True, Kyle’s nose looked swollen, his eyes becoming rimmed with black and blue from the impact. But he looked okay, Horatio conceded, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to make a big deal over the incident.
Or maybe he did, but he realized that it wouldn’t be smart to do that in front of Ray Junior who would either become angry at Horatio’s concern or assume that Kyle needed to be coddled. And the last thing Horatio wanted to do was exacerbate the already tense situation by making it seem as though he thought the older boy was weak or cause for concern.
Nor did Horatio want Ray to see the doubt in his mind over Kyle’s innocence.
The thought wrong even to his own mind, Horatio knew he should instinctively refute any idea that his son might be guilty.
But he couldn’t do it.
As much as part of him didn’t want to believe Kyle was responsible for the fight, or for the black eye, for that matter, he did believe it, he realized. Because although nobody had ever admitted it, Horatio knew that Kyle had been responsible for Yelina’s bruises before; the redhead knew that the teenager had attacked her, and…
That kind of behavior didn’t go away simply because Horatio wished it would. If anything, the teenager’s violent childhood and past crimes probably had only cemented those types of actions, encouraged them. And while Horatio wasn’t ready to throw in the towel - no matter how much his own thoughts might have suggested otherwise - he realized that he needed to address this problem.
Before Kyle went so far that not even his father’s name and position could help him.
And all of a sudden, Horatio understood how to handle this situation. Drawing from all of his experience as a CSI, relying on all of the interrogations he had sat in on and conducted, he knew how to get the answers he wanted.
He easily closed the distance between them. His forceful gaze looking both of them carefully in the eye, Horatio said firmly, “Inside. Now.”
The teenagers said nothing as they turned around and went further into the house. Horatio silently shutting the door behind them, the metal click that filled the air was potent, telling. The noise saying that, for the moment, there was no way out, it was the reminder Horatio didn’t need to hear to know that he needed to proceed carefully.
And that meant by splitting them up for starters. Neither Kyle nor Ray were speaking when the redhead entered the room, but between them was a shared glance that suggested they were trying to decide how much they should reveal or talk about. Eager to stop them from reaching any sort of agreement, Horatio interrupted with an instruction, “Ray, go to your room.”
Ray Junior shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said snottily.
“Raymond,” the redhead warned, his eyes narrowing on his nephew.
Ray hesitated in response. Clearly undecided whether or not he should listen, he visibly bristled. His lips contorting into a mangled sneer, he looked as though he were about to say something horribly inappropriate to Horatio.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he shoved the hands he’d curled into fists into his pockets. And after a second, he let out a terse “fine” before walking away.
Now alone with Kyle, Horatio turned to face the teenager. In a voice that he hoped sounded calm, he asked, “What happened?” But even to his own ears, the question came out strangled, a hint of accusation and panic in the tones.
Which did not go unnoticed by the blond.
Kyle’s brow furrowing in response, he slowly spit out, “You… think I did this?”
“No.” But that too did little to belie the conviction Horatio was feeling. The “yes” went unsaid but not unheard, causing the blond to frown slightly.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Kyle said with a shrug. “I mean I’m sure that you, no doubt, would love to hear that you’ve got everything figured out correctly. But you haven’t,” he told Horatio dryly. “I didn’t do any of this.”
Horatio cocked his head at that. “Then who did, Kyle? Who did this?”
Bitterly he replied, “Your nephew.”
Horatio’s immediate reaction was to shake his head, to deny what he was hearing. Because as troubled as Ray Junior could be, as angry as he surely was over learning about Kyle, Horatio couldn’t imagine the motivation for the boy hitting his own mother.
He just couldn’t see it.
“Explain that to me,” he said in tense tones.
Kyle sighed in frustration. “You think he wouldn’t do something like that? The kid’s a psychopath.”
“He’s had some… problems,” Horatio conceded patiently. “But… the boy does love his mother, and I… don’t believe that he would -”
The teenager interrupted, admitting, “He was the one who attacked me at school. He -”
“You go to the same school?” Horatio asked in confusion. How he had not realized this before, he wasn’t sure. But right then and there, the hindsight came to him; he should have talked to Yelina about it first. Because if he had known Ray were at that school, Horatio would have put Kyle in another. If only to avoid potential complications like this one.
“Apparently.” His voice was calm and dry, but there was something about his appearance that reminded the redhead of a wild animal ready to strike. “He hit me and -”
Horatio was doubtful when he asked, “Without provocation?”
“I’ve never seen that kid before in my life,” Kyle answered immediately. “He obviously knew who I was, but… I didn’t know who he was until Yelina told me. And while I get the impression that you think I’m the kind of person to get into fights for absolutely no reason, I know what’s at stake. I have no intention of going to jail.”
And that made sense, Horatio realized the moment he saw the honesty in the boy’s eyes. But then that meant…
Ray really had done this.
He’d attacked Kyle.
Clearing the back of his throat, Horatio needed to know. “You’re telling me he attacked you.”
“And Yelina,” Kyle added firmly, coldly.
The answer was not offered in sympathy, was not delivered with any gentleness that the redhead might have wanted. But then again, as the words sunk in, Horatio realized there was no way to deliver that news with any kindness. The truth too depressing, too dark and repulsive, it didn’t matter how Kyle had said it or hadn’t said it. Because what he was saying was that Ray Junior had hit his own mother.
“Stay here,” Horatio ordered harshly, stalking down the short hallway to Ray Junior’s room. As he pushed open the door to the bedroom, he hoped that what he would see was all the proof he needed to know that Kyle was lying.
That truth disgusting as well, Horatio could only tell himself that… this kind of behavior was expected of Kyle. And while he didn’t like the idea of his son attacking Yelina, at least that was… nothing new. It might have been cause for alarm; it was cause for alarm, but it was still better than realizing that both his son and his nephew needed help.
It was easier to handle if only one of them was screwed up, Horatio thought darkly.
But as Ray Junior got up off of his bed and looked at him guiltily, Horatio was forced to admit:
Kyle had been telling the truth.
Ray had attacked his own mother.
**************
She drove aimlessly for ten minutes. Considering her only goal had been to get away from her son and the house of horrors her home had become, Yelina hadn’t thought about where she should go; she hadn’t cared. But as she drove along the Miami roads, she realized that most people would soon be getting off of work, if they hadn’t already. And doubting that rush hour traffic would calm her, Yelina knew she needed to go somewhere.
But her options were limited. Because as much as she loved them, her friends and family would want to know what had happened; the black eye too obvious despite being brand new to ignore, Yelina understood she wouldn’t find any comfort with any of those people. They’d only want to focus on her injury, and that meant being forced to explain what had happened.
Wanting to be with someone who wouldn’t care less about her face, she was not surprised to find herself parked outside of his home fifteen minutes later.
It had all been leading to this anyway, she thought grimly. The back and forth, the fighting, the kisses, and sympathy - they’d been moving closer and closer to this point, she realized as she stepped out of the car.
Her gait nonchalant as she made her way to the front door, part of her screamed that this was stupid. Worse, actually, if she was right in thinking that there was at least a fifty-fifty chance that they would end up in bed together. Because not only would that not make things better, there was a great possibility that it would actually make everything seem worse.
Of course… she hesitated to think it. But her mind betrayed her and forced the idea into her consciousness anyway. Things were so bad right now, it whispered. So bad that, a frown on her features, Yelina doubted things could get much worse.
Her own son had punched her after all.
And even if it had been an accident, even if he’d been aiming for someone else, it was still proof that she had failed as a mother.
It was all the proof she needed honestly, especially when she factored in that it was another family member Ray Junior had been trying to hit in the first place. But regardless of the person his anger had been aimed at, Yelina had truly never expected this sort of violence from him. That hatred inside of him something she hadn’t anticipated at all, she wondered what else Ray Junior had done, what else he was capable of.
The question one that frightened her, one that made her feel like the worst mother ever, she realized that nothing she could do here would make things any worse. They were already as bad as they could be. And with that in mind, she firmly pressed the doorbell and impatiently waited for him to answer.
Of course, it took a few minutes; he’d probably only been home from work for a little while anyway. And when he did come to the door, he was still dressed in his suit trouser, although his pink shirt and tie had been removed, leaving him only in an undershirt.
He looked good.
But frankly, even if he hadn’t, Yelina was too enticed by the possibility that he could… make her forget.
It was a gift he had, one she was intimately familiar with. As difficult as a relationship with him had been, she hadn’t forgotten how nice it was to have a boyfriend. Which sounded immature, even in her own mind, but she knew it was true nonetheless; he had made her happy (before he’d made her miserable), and in that time, Yelina had remembered just how lovely it was to have someone to share her life with.
And in that moment, as she remembered what her relationship with him had been like, she found herself not caring that the look on his face was a menacing cross between a smirk and a wolfish grin. His eyes staring intently at the small amount of cleavage she was showing, he drawled slowly, “Yelina…”
“Hello, Rick,” she greeted in a low voice, sounding only slightly more reassured than she felt.
She could hear the taunting in his voice when he said, “Heard you left work early today. You realize you’re not allowed to do that, right?”
Frowning, she nodded her head. “Something came up.”
Stetler took a step closer to her, his gaze headed upwards to her face. His hands gently cupping her cheeks, he asked, “That have something to do with your face?”
Yelina raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly concerned for my wellbeing.”
“Hardly,” he retorted with a sneer. “I just want to know how long I have before Horatio comes pounding on my door with a gun in his hand.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Her voice was grim but appropriate, she decided as she contemplated her brother-in-law with two angry teenagers.
Rick’s eyes narrowed on her. Both his and her silences making him look at her with increasing suspicion, he eventually asked, “Why are you here?”
She didn’t know how to respond to that exactly. Because while at this point, she was sure she wanted… sex, it was definitely not in her nature to be so… wanton. Her own form of flirtation typically much more reserved, this was decidedly different than what she was used to, the opposite of the kind of behavior she respected in women.
But…
Yelina found herself sighing anyway, a flirtatious smile pulling at her lips. Only slightly afraid that he would reject her, she closed her eyes and decided to take the risk before her.
Because, after all, how could it actually get any worse than her son, her child attacking her?
It couldn’t.
And so in a husky voice, she explained to Rick, “I was hoping you could leave a mark on me in a much more… pleasurable way.” The confusion in his eyes almost immediate, Yelina did not give him a chance to ask the question floating in his mind.
Her fingers quickly digging into the soft white cotton of his undershirt, she thrust herself closer to him. The gap between them dwindling with each second, she pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips crushed against one another, it was almost immediate in the way his tongue and hands began to recklessly explore her body that she understood:
He was interested.
His own fingers deliciously tucking into the waistband of her pants, Rick used the leverage to pull her inside. As he shut the door behind them both, the noise informed her that there was no escape.
She was at Stetler’s mercy.
And as his lips threatened to descend on hers once more and he whispered seductively, “I think I can do that,” she realized…
She was okay with that.
Go to the Next Chapter
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, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51, Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, and Chapter 56.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“What occasions the greater part of the world’s quarrels? Simply this: Two minds meet and do not understand each other in time enough to prevent any shock of surprise at the conduct of either party.” - John Keats
He stood there in shock, his mind on her black eye.
Yelina’s battered face staying with him long after she’d driven away, Horatio had no idea what to say or do. His mouth slightly agape, he was at a loss, truth be told. Unsure if he should chase her down, find the vermin who had done this, or talk to the two teenagers who were intently watching him, he stayed frozen where he was.
Taking the moment to think about it, Horatio could hear his instincts saying that he needed to let Yelina go. She needed to calm down first, and even though she’d said she was done, he did not doubt for a minute that she would return. If only because he wasn’t sure what he would do without her, Horatio believed that, yes, she would come back.
Besides, he thought, a lopsided smile beginning to play on his features, finding her now wouldn’t do any good. As much as he didn’t like to believe in stereotypes about women… when Yelina was emotional, there was no point in trying to reason with her. She was either completely irrationally upset or despondent, and with no middle ground for him to tread, he wouldn’t get any answers out of her anyway.
A by-chance glance towards the children, on the other hand, said exactly the opposite.
They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, Ray Junior and Kyle, in the doorframe. And although Horatio hadn’t ever considered a family resemblance before, he could sort of see one now. Ray definitely favored his mother, of course, olive skin and dark curls directly stolen from her, and Kyle seemed like the perfect demonstration of recessive genes, his blond hair from neither his mother nor his father.
But there was a similarity between the two. Particularly around the eyes, the likeness in shape and color visible even from this distance, Horatio thought. Then again, he considered, cocking his head to the side, it might just have been the exact same expression on both of their faces that made them appear alike. Frowns on their faces, eyes wide and wild, they both looked upset, angry.
And they looked guilty as hell, Horatio decided, finally taking a step closer to them. His steps were tentative, his shoes making shallow indentations in the soft grass. Slowly bridging the gap between himself and the boys, Horatio took the time to contemplate how he was going to approach the situation. Given all of his failings with Kyle in the past week or so, as well as Ray Junior’s considerable temper, he wanted to play it careful. Because even though he was letting her go, Horatio needed to know what events had led to Yelina having a black eye; that, more than anything, was his priority right now, and it was clear that both Kyle and Ray Junior were aware of what had happened.
So he had a choice to make: how did he want to handle this?
His first instinct, surprisingly, was to make sure that Kyle was okay after being in the hospital all afternoon. But doing that would be, Horatio recognized, an uncomfortable demonstration of fatherhood and thus an instinct he reasoned himself out of almost immediately.
Given that Kyle had been to the hospital, the redhead couldn’t help but think that it was reasonable to assume the boy was okay. And even if it hadn’t been, Yelina had said on the phone that the teenager was fine, and as she was usually true to her word, the blond did seem okay.
True, Kyle’s nose looked swollen, his eyes becoming rimmed with black and blue from the impact. But he looked okay, Horatio conceded, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to make a big deal over the incident.
Or maybe he did, but he realized that it wouldn’t be smart to do that in front of Ray Junior who would either become angry at Horatio’s concern or assume that Kyle needed to be coddled. And the last thing Horatio wanted to do was exacerbate the already tense situation by making it seem as though he thought the older boy was weak or cause for concern.
Nor did Horatio want Ray to see the doubt in his mind over Kyle’s innocence.
The thought wrong even to his own mind, Horatio knew he should instinctively refute any idea that his son might be guilty.
But he couldn’t do it.
As much as part of him didn’t want to believe Kyle was responsible for the fight, or for the black eye, for that matter, he did believe it, he realized. Because although nobody had ever admitted it, Horatio knew that Kyle had been responsible for Yelina’s bruises before; the redhead knew that the teenager had attacked her, and…
That kind of behavior didn’t go away simply because Horatio wished it would. If anything, the teenager’s violent childhood and past crimes probably had only cemented those types of actions, encouraged them. And while Horatio wasn’t ready to throw in the towel - no matter how much his own thoughts might have suggested otherwise - he realized that he needed to address this problem.
Before Kyle went so far that not even his father’s name and position could help him.
And all of a sudden, Horatio understood how to handle this situation. Drawing from all of his experience as a CSI, relying on all of the interrogations he had sat in on and conducted, he knew how to get the answers he wanted.
He easily closed the distance between them. His forceful gaze looking both of them carefully in the eye, Horatio said firmly, “Inside. Now.”
The teenagers said nothing as they turned around and went further into the house. Horatio silently shutting the door behind them, the metal click that filled the air was potent, telling. The noise saying that, for the moment, there was no way out, it was the reminder Horatio didn’t need to hear to know that he needed to proceed carefully.
And that meant by splitting them up for starters. Neither Kyle nor Ray were speaking when the redhead entered the room, but between them was a shared glance that suggested they were trying to decide how much they should reveal or talk about. Eager to stop them from reaching any sort of agreement, Horatio interrupted with an instruction, “Ray, go to your room.”
Ray Junior shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said snottily.
“Raymond,” the redhead warned, his eyes narrowing on his nephew.
Ray hesitated in response. Clearly undecided whether or not he should listen, he visibly bristled. His lips contorting into a mangled sneer, he looked as though he were about to say something horribly inappropriate to Horatio.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he shoved the hands he’d curled into fists into his pockets. And after a second, he let out a terse “fine” before walking away.
Now alone with Kyle, Horatio turned to face the teenager. In a voice that he hoped sounded calm, he asked, “What happened?” But even to his own ears, the question came out strangled, a hint of accusation and panic in the tones.
Which did not go unnoticed by the blond.
Kyle’s brow furrowing in response, he slowly spit out, “You… think I did this?”
“No.” But that too did little to belie the conviction Horatio was feeling. The “yes” went unsaid but not unheard, causing the blond to frown slightly.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Kyle said with a shrug. “I mean I’m sure that you, no doubt, would love to hear that you’ve got everything figured out correctly. But you haven’t,” he told Horatio dryly. “I didn’t do any of this.”
Horatio cocked his head at that. “Then who did, Kyle? Who did this?”
Bitterly he replied, “Your nephew.”
Horatio’s immediate reaction was to shake his head, to deny what he was hearing. Because as troubled as Ray Junior could be, as angry as he surely was over learning about Kyle, Horatio couldn’t imagine the motivation for the boy hitting his own mother.
He just couldn’t see it.
“Explain that to me,” he said in tense tones.
Kyle sighed in frustration. “You think he wouldn’t do something like that? The kid’s a psychopath.”
“He’s had some… problems,” Horatio conceded patiently. “But… the boy does love his mother, and I… don’t believe that he would -”
The teenager interrupted, admitting, “He was the one who attacked me at school. He -”
“You go to the same school?” Horatio asked in confusion. How he had not realized this before, he wasn’t sure. But right then and there, the hindsight came to him; he should have talked to Yelina about it first. Because if he had known Ray were at that school, Horatio would have put Kyle in another. If only to avoid potential complications like this one.
“Apparently.” His voice was calm and dry, but there was something about his appearance that reminded the redhead of a wild animal ready to strike. “He hit me and -”
Horatio was doubtful when he asked, “Without provocation?”
“I’ve never seen that kid before in my life,” Kyle answered immediately. “He obviously knew who I was, but… I didn’t know who he was until Yelina told me. And while I get the impression that you think I’m the kind of person to get into fights for absolutely no reason, I know what’s at stake. I have no intention of going to jail.”
And that made sense, Horatio realized the moment he saw the honesty in the boy’s eyes. But then that meant…
Ray really had done this.
He’d attacked Kyle.
Clearing the back of his throat, Horatio needed to know. “You’re telling me he attacked you.”
“And Yelina,” Kyle added firmly, coldly.
The answer was not offered in sympathy, was not delivered with any gentleness that the redhead might have wanted. But then again, as the words sunk in, Horatio realized there was no way to deliver that news with any kindness. The truth too depressing, too dark and repulsive, it didn’t matter how Kyle had said it or hadn’t said it. Because what he was saying was that Ray Junior had hit his own mother.
“Stay here,” Horatio ordered harshly, stalking down the short hallway to Ray Junior’s room. As he pushed open the door to the bedroom, he hoped that what he would see was all the proof he needed to know that Kyle was lying.
That truth disgusting as well, Horatio could only tell himself that… this kind of behavior was expected of Kyle. And while he didn’t like the idea of his son attacking Yelina, at least that was… nothing new. It might have been cause for alarm; it was cause for alarm, but it was still better than realizing that both his son and his nephew needed help.
It was easier to handle if only one of them was screwed up, Horatio thought darkly.
But as Ray Junior got up off of his bed and looked at him guiltily, Horatio was forced to admit:
Kyle had been telling the truth.
Ray had attacked his own mother.
**************
She drove aimlessly for ten minutes. Considering her only goal had been to get away from her son and the house of horrors her home had become, Yelina hadn’t thought about where she should go; she hadn’t cared. But as she drove along the Miami roads, she realized that most people would soon be getting off of work, if they hadn’t already. And doubting that rush hour traffic would calm her, Yelina knew she needed to go somewhere.
But her options were limited. Because as much as she loved them, her friends and family would want to know what had happened; the black eye too obvious despite being brand new to ignore, Yelina understood she wouldn’t find any comfort with any of those people. They’d only want to focus on her injury, and that meant being forced to explain what had happened.
Wanting to be with someone who wouldn’t care less about her face, she was not surprised to find herself parked outside of his home fifteen minutes later.
It had all been leading to this anyway, she thought grimly. The back and forth, the fighting, the kisses, and sympathy - they’d been moving closer and closer to this point, she realized as she stepped out of the car.
Her gait nonchalant as she made her way to the front door, part of her screamed that this was stupid. Worse, actually, if she was right in thinking that there was at least a fifty-fifty chance that they would end up in bed together. Because not only would that not make things better, there was a great possibility that it would actually make everything seem worse.
Of course… she hesitated to think it. But her mind betrayed her and forced the idea into her consciousness anyway. Things were so bad right now, it whispered. So bad that, a frown on her features, Yelina doubted things could get much worse.
Her own son had punched her after all.
And even if it had been an accident, even if he’d been aiming for someone else, it was still proof that she had failed as a mother.
It was all the proof she needed honestly, especially when she factored in that it was another family member Ray Junior had been trying to hit in the first place. But regardless of the person his anger had been aimed at, Yelina had truly never expected this sort of violence from him. That hatred inside of him something she hadn’t anticipated at all, she wondered what else Ray Junior had done, what else he was capable of.
The question one that frightened her, one that made her feel like the worst mother ever, she realized that nothing she could do here would make things any worse. They were already as bad as they could be. And with that in mind, she firmly pressed the doorbell and impatiently waited for him to answer.
Of course, it took a few minutes; he’d probably only been home from work for a little while anyway. And when he did come to the door, he was still dressed in his suit trouser, although his pink shirt and tie had been removed, leaving him only in an undershirt.
He looked good.
But frankly, even if he hadn’t, Yelina was too enticed by the possibility that he could… make her forget.
It was a gift he had, one she was intimately familiar with. As difficult as a relationship with him had been, she hadn’t forgotten how nice it was to have a boyfriend. Which sounded immature, even in her own mind, but she knew it was true nonetheless; he had made her happy (before he’d made her miserable), and in that time, Yelina had remembered just how lovely it was to have someone to share her life with.
And in that moment, as she remembered what her relationship with him had been like, she found herself not caring that the look on his face was a menacing cross between a smirk and a wolfish grin. His eyes staring intently at the small amount of cleavage she was showing, he drawled slowly, “Yelina…”
“Hello, Rick,” she greeted in a low voice, sounding only slightly more reassured than she felt.
She could hear the taunting in his voice when he said, “Heard you left work early today. You realize you’re not allowed to do that, right?”
Frowning, she nodded her head. “Something came up.”
Stetler took a step closer to her, his gaze headed upwards to her face. His hands gently cupping her cheeks, he asked, “That have something to do with your face?”
Yelina raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly concerned for my wellbeing.”
“Hardly,” he retorted with a sneer. “I just want to know how long I have before Horatio comes pounding on my door with a gun in his hand.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Her voice was grim but appropriate, she decided as she contemplated her brother-in-law with two angry teenagers.
Rick’s eyes narrowed on her. Both his and her silences making him look at her with increasing suspicion, he eventually asked, “Why are you here?”
She didn’t know how to respond to that exactly. Because while at this point, she was sure she wanted… sex, it was definitely not in her nature to be so… wanton. Her own form of flirtation typically much more reserved, this was decidedly different than what she was used to, the opposite of the kind of behavior she respected in women.
But…
Yelina found herself sighing anyway, a flirtatious smile pulling at her lips. Only slightly afraid that he would reject her, she closed her eyes and decided to take the risk before her.
Because, after all, how could it actually get any worse than her son, her child attacking her?
It couldn’t.
And so in a husky voice, she explained to Rick, “I was hoping you could leave a mark on me in a much more… pleasurable way.” The confusion in his eyes almost immediate, Yelina did not give him a chance to ask the question floating in his mind.
Her fingers quickly digging into the soft white cotton of his undershirt, she thrust herself closer to him. The gap between them dwindling with each second, she pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips crushed against one another, it was almost immediate in the way his tongue and hands began to recklessly explore her body that she understood:
He was interested.
His own fingers deliciously tucking into the waistband of her pants, Rick used the leverage to pull her inside. As he shut the door behind them both, the noise informed her that there was no escape.
She was at Stetler’s mercy.
And as his lips threatened to descend on hers once more and he whispered seductively, “I think I can do that,” she realized…
She was okay with that.
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