Lovers' Secrets
Chapter #2
Kate sat with her knees drawn up underneath her chin, gazing at the man asleep next to her. She bit her lip, not realizing the strength behind the action until she tasted the salt on her tongue. It was time now. She knew it. It was time to end it once and for all. She’d tell him how she felt, and then he’d never have to see her again, but at least she’d know that she’d told him. She reached a hand out to his chest, touching him gently. “Jethro, wake-up. I need to talk to you.”
He opened his eyes, a little blearily, and sat up to look at her. “What is it?”
Kate bit her lip again, ignoring the pain. “We need to talk about this. You were right before, so, I think we should just talk about what we did. Okay Jethro?”
“I like that.”
Kate glanced at him, confused. “Like what?”
“Hearing you say my name. I’m sorry about last night.”
Kate shook her head. “No, it’s my fault, but I do hope you feel better soon.”
“What I meant was, I’m sorry that I let you believe we were going with your plan last night, that you thought I was pretending you were someone else. You weren’t you know. I feel like I missed out on something though, because I didn’t realize it myself until just now.”
“It’s okay. I already knew. That’s what we need to talk about Je…Gibbs. I can’t do this, okay? I’m not as okay with the arrangement we had as I thought I was, and I know you’re going to hate me for this, but I have to tell you. I can’t live with you thinking that what we did was just sex. At least, it wasn’t for me. It started that way, but it changed, and I can’t let you believe that I’m available for that. I made that mistake last night, and that’s why I know I have to tell you now.” Gibbs looked at her, completely adrift. “I’m ending it Jethro. I’m ending the set-up, I have to. One day, you were going to wake up and hate me for being the reason you broke your rules. You need those rules to keep whoever or whatever you lost close to you, and you were going to hate me for tempting you. I couldn’t live with you hating me. It wouldn’t be alright.”
Gibbs put his arms around Kate as he spoke. “It’s okay, we’ll work it out so that it’s not breaking any rules, okay? Yours or mine.” Kate tried to pull away, but he held on.
“Gibbs, you would hate me. Somewhere outside your conscious mind, you probably already do.”
“Kate, calm down, I don’t hate you. I’m not going to either.”
Kate took a deep breath, and spoke carefully. “I think I’m in love with you, Jethro.” He froze, and she tore away from him. Within seconds, she was dressed and up the stairs. At the top she paused and looked back at Gibbs, who still hadn’t moved. “I’m sorry.” Then she raced out to her car and drove away.
She barely took the time to put her car into park when she reached her house. About halfway home, she’d started getting nauseous again, and she flew through the door, trying to get a hold of a jar of peanut butter before she threw up. She dropped her bag and keys at the door, which she hadn’t bothered to close, and made it to the cupboard just in time. Her hands fumbled with the lid on the jar, but she got it open and scooped out a little with finger. She swallowed against the rising tide in her body, forcing down a few teaspoons of the sticky substance. She slammed the container back on the counter. Abby had been right, it did help a little, soothing her throat and giving her mind something else to focus on. She turned away to close her front door and doubled over. Every muscle in her abdomen contracted, twisting inside her body. She fell to her hands and knees, blackness encroaching on her vision as her body purged itself. In her last moments of consciousness, she saw the dark pool spreading out beneath her hands, and then collapsed in her own blood.
Kate’s eyes flew open. The tile under her body was soaked, and as she pushed herself up, she kept her gaze turned away from the pool of liquid. She put a hand to her head, trying to ignore that both parts of her body were covered in blood. She shook herself, she had to get out of here, and to a hospital, that much she knew. Where the hell was she going to go? She’d been planning on leaving anyway, but she’d hoped to have time to plan. She moved slowly to her bathroom, were she finally let herself look in a mirror. Her dark hair was streaked red, and looked like she hadn’t washed it in days, her clothes were wrinkled and bloody, and the beginning of a black eye was forming on her face. She sighed, this would be a problem. She knelt down and rifled through the cupboard under her sink, looking for the box of hair dye she’d bought a few years ago for a Halloween party. The box showed a beautiful face framed by a full head of blood red hair. She uttered a silent prayer of thanks and stripped off her clothes, tossing them to the floor. She stepped into the shower, taking the small tube of dye with her.
Two hours later, Kate emerged from her bedroom, looking like a whole new woman. Her hair was a bold, shining red, and she was dressed in a black tank-top and hip-hugger jeans. She slipped her feet into a pair of black silk stilettos and wiggled ten blood red toes. She slid a pair of sapphire earrings into her ears, and fastened a gold cross around her neck. She glanced at the bag sitting on her dresser. It contained a change of clothes in the same provocative style as what she was wearing, a false ID from a previous undercover assignment, and a small fortune in hundred dollar bills. She took a thin silver wedding band from her jewelry box and put it on. She glanced at the full length mirror n her door, and nodded approvingly. No one would associate the provocative-looking girl with the conservative Special Agent they were questioned about. She slipped out the back door, taking care not to let herself be seen, and reached the main street uneventfully. She sauntered up to a waiting cab and climbed in. “Train Station, please.” She said in a lilt, trying to keep her stomach stable. The driver nodded and zoomed off. When they reached the station, she got out and handed the driver her last twenty. Not much of a tip, but better than giving off suspicion with a Franklin. She hurried over to the ticket booth and glanced at the bill-board stating destinations. She bought a one way to Oceana, West Virginia, the farthest place she could think of. The clerk handed her the ticket, ogling slightly at the low-cut neck of Kate’s shirt. She smiled sweetly and turned away, knowing his eyes to be glued to her ass, and that he’d never so much as looked at her face. Men were pigs, but occasionally it came in handy. She jumped onto the train just before it started to pull out, and headed straight for the restroom. She locked the door and knelt down before the muscle spasms could do it for her. She opened her mouth and let the blood pour out. She wiped her lips on the back off her arm and pushed herself to her feet, rubbing at her skin with a damp paper towel. No need to cause alarm. Kate took a deep breath and opened the door. She walked over to an empty seat and folded herself into it. She took out her cell phone, noticing the bug that Abby had attached. She set it on her lap and opened the window next to her seat, then began a new message.
She hit send, and then, under the pretense of closing the window back up, dropped the cell out of the train and into the water below. “Catch me if you can, Jethro.” She murmured, and closed her eyes.
Kate stepped off the train in Oceana, stopping in the station restroom to add some cover-up to her bruising eye. She could easily make it disappear, but the implications of abuse would help her just now. She gave it a light coat, artfully making it lighter, but more obvious, than she went to find a sympathetic ear. She walked to the parking lot, looking for a motherly figure. Soon, she saw a woman with the look of a doting aunt. No children, but a maternal personality. She hurried after the woman. “Excuse me, Maam? Maam?” the woman turned to face her, noting the black eye with suppressed anger and concern.
“Yes?” she asked kindly.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, Maam.” Kate infected her voice with a slight accent. “I was wondering if, maybe, you might be able to drive me to the nearest hospital. There don’t seem to be any cabs around here.”
“There wouldn’t be, dear. They’re all call companies around here. What happened to you?”
“Well, I…I got into a little trouble, Maam. See, I’m kinda clumsy usually, and I got myself a little banged up. I just wanted to get checked up, y’know?”
The woman nodded, not believing her story. “I can get you to the hospital. Hop in.” She gestured towards an old Toyota Carola.
“Thanks so much, I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t showed up.” Kate gushed. She slid into the car, buckling her seat belt. “It’s really nice of you, where I come from, no one would have given me a ride. I’m really grateful.”
“No problem. My name’s Michelle, what’s yours?”
“Catherine Harris, but my friend’s just call me Cat.”
“Well, Cat, why don’t you tell me the truth about your eye so we can take care of it better.”
Kate cursed mentally. She would find the one who was determined to do something, rather more than offer kindness. “That is the truth, I got myself banged up.”
“Yes, but who was it that hit you?” the woman pressed.
Kate looked nervous. “Is it that obvious, Maam?” she asked, hoping to divert her attention.
“Yes, it is. Make-up doesn’t hide these things all that well.”
The hell it doesn’t, thought Kate grimly. “Well, my boyfriend wasn’t so happy when he found out I was pregnant, Maam. See, we said we’d be careful, so he thinks I was trying to get knocked up. I wasn’t though, honest.” She reached up a hand to scratch her neck, naturally drawing the woman’s eyes to her cross. Play the good Catholic girl card, Kate, it’s your best one. The woman set her lips.
“I’m sure you weren’t. Well, we’re here.” Kate looked up, surprised the drive had taken so little time.
“Thank you, so much. How can I ever thank you?”
The woman waved her hand. “Just get better dear. Good luck.”
Kate waved and walked through the hospital doors, feeling her nausea overtaking her again. “Shoot!” she muttered, heading to the receptionists desk. “Could you please point me to the restrooms?” The woman pointed, not looking up from her computer. “Thank you.” Kate hurried through the hall. She pushed open the bathroom door, and felt her body contract again. This time, she didn’t make it to the toilet, and her blood spilled over the floor, spattering everything in the room. She pulled herself to her feet, weakly and held the door frame for support. She waved to a passing nurse, who stopped and stared at her bloody hands. “I think I need some help.”
The nurse nodded and grabbed Kate’s arm, pushing the door open. She froze, than turned to stare at Kate again. Then she dragged Kate into a nearby room and started taking every measurement and test that would give an immediate answer. As she did so, she picked up a phone in the room and called cleaning, then she wrote some notes on her paper and turned to Kate.
“Any medical conditions?” she demanded.
Kate shook her head. “I’m perfectly healthy. No conditions, infections, deficiencies, anything. I was in a car accident two and a half months ago, and have been on painkillers, but that’s it.”
“How many?”
“Maximum doses.”
“Any allergies?”
“None.”
“Could you be pregnant?” asked the nurse, expecting another negative.
Kate paused. “I…I’m not…It’s possible.”
The nurse glanced up from her notes, surprised, but she quickly masked it and returned to her businesslike manner. “I’ll get you a pregnancy test to be sure. Be right back.” She bustled out of the room but was back in less than a minute. “Next time you have to use the bathroom, take this with you. Can I have your name, please?”
“Catherine Harris.”
“Do you want me to call the father?”
“I don’t know who it is.” Replied Kate, coldly, eliciting another surprised glance from the nurse.
“Alright, is there anyone you’d like to call?”
“No. I’ll take the test now.” She stood up, took the box the woman handed her and walked to one of the clean bathrooms.
She’d taken five tests. All positive. She was scheduled for a blood filter that afternoon to remove the painkillers from her blood stream. She turned her face to the ceiling, praying. This was so not her week.
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