Carson Evolved Ch. 09

Author's Notes:

Welcome back to my story, my faithful readers! Thanks for hanging with me, and especially to all of you who have taken the time to comment or send me feedback messages. They're greatly appreciated.

Like always, if you haven't read the previous chapters, you're going to get lost. I don't make much of an effort to explain references to earlier events and characters (of which, there are a lot). I added a lot of strands to the web in the last chapter, with threads going in all sorts of directions. I probably packed too much in at once, but it certainly expands the story quite a bit. I won't promise that we'll tread on each path every chapter, but I plan to provide resolution for each storyline at some point. I guess you'll just have to keep reading, now won't you?

This will be a lengthy set of notes. The story has gotten complicated and inevitably I've made a few mistakes that will need cleaned up.

In the last chapter, Elsa delivered her baby. Hooray! Unfortunately, the timing is wrong. Back in chapter 4, Helena got pregnant first, followed by Elsa a few weeks later. In chapter 8, Carson comforts Helena by telling her it's only a couple of months until she delivers. That's a big 'oops!' and I apologize. It hasn't been brought to my attention by any readers, but it's the kind of thing that I work very hard to avoid, given the long timeline of my story. I debated resubmitting chapter 8 to fix it, but I like the scene the way it is, so I'm just going to assume most people won't pick up on the disparity. It might be easier to fix by resubmitting chapter 4, but I'm paranoid that it will introduce new errors in subsequent chapters. So I'm just cutting my losses and moving forward.

A quick note about Starfyre. She was intended to be more of a throwaway character with limited impact on the story. But a number of people reacted to her actions in the last chapter, and I thought maybe I could use that to give her a bigger role. That said, she's a hacker and I am...not. It's a dangerous proposition for writers to write about things they don't know. There are lots of warnings out there against doing so. Even so, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, I'm going to throw some details in that may or may not match reality. Please, just go with it. It's fiction, right?

Also, this chapter is pretty heavy on the sex, resulting in a longer chapter than I usually submit. I was advised early on when I started writing to focus less on the sex and more on the story. In this case, I think it's necessary to advance the story. But even if it's not, I hope you'll find that it tickles your fancy.

Standard disclaimer: Please, if you like the story, or if you don't like the story, take a moment to comment. It's especially helpful if you have something constructive to add. It helps me quite a bit to see the story through others' eyes.

Finally, as always, all sexual activity takes place between adults.

—MB

*****

"So, I'm standing there wearing a borrowed suit two sizes too big, my hair is a mess, and don't even get me started on my makeup. The judge is just staring at me like she's unsure whether to have the bailiff escort me to a cell, just in case I've completely lost my mind. She says, 'Counselor? Are you prepared for closing arguments?' What could I say? I looked her dead in the eye and said, 'Of course, Your Honor. Don't I look ready? It took her a good 5 minutes to get the courtroom back in order, and I spent the night in a cell after she found me in contempt. And that's when I decided I might not be suited for criminal law."

Carson was doing his best to keep from falling out of his chair, he was laughing so hard. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, trying to picture the beautiful, immaculately-composed woman sitting across from him as a newly-minted attorney in any state of dishevelment.

"Stop it, you're killing me, Risa!" he cried.

Risa was laughing along with him. Patting his arm to get his attention, between gasps she said, "The best part is that the DA refused to offer a plea deal because it was election season, but he screwed up and the trial was dismissed because of a technicality. Whenever I see Norris at a gathering of the bar, I remind him of that trial, just to see the vein in his forehead bulge out when he gets mad!"

"Wait a minute," laughed Carson. "You went up against our 'esteemed' District Attorney Norris Etheridge and survived? I was under the impression that he was unassailable."

Swallowing her sip of Chardonnay, Risa said, "I'm picking up on your sarcasm. You don't think much of the Golden Boy?"

"It's funny. I've only met the man once, in passing, but there's just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. You ever look at someone, a stranger, and immediately conclude they're not someone you would get along with? That's kind of how I look at Norris. He looks polished to the public, but I have a feeling that there's more than one skeleton hiding in his closet."

"Well, far be it from me to dissuade you of your opinion," replied Risa. "The man's an ass. He thinks he's God's gift, you know, but I haven't the foggiest idea how he kept a woman like Vivian around long enough to marry him."

Setting his beer down, Carson said, "The rumor's that she's attracted to her husband's power more than she is to her husband. I don't know either of them well enough to say one way or another, so I'll take your word for it that he's not worth my time."

There was a momentary lull in the conversation. Eventually, Risa said, "I can't remember when I've laughed like this. The last several years have been...difficult."

Carson considered several different ways to respond. He could maintain the professional veneer, he could ramp up the flirtation, or he could offer a sympathetic ear. That last option would probably put him in the friend zone, but he wasn't exactly starving for female attention. Besides, there was a note in her voice that tugged at his heartstrings.

"I'm having a great time, too. I'm finding that your professional reputation doesn't match reality," he said.

"Oh? And just what is my reputation?" she asked, curious.

"Well," he began, "The people I've heard mention your name have a great deal of respect for you professionally, but they usually think of you as a shark or ice-queen. Someone to admire from a distance, but dangerous to get too close to. I obviously don't share this opinion," he hastened to add.

Risa didn't seem surprised by his description, but nodded somewhat sadly. "I suppose that I've learned to distance myself from people over the years. My path hasn't been the smoothest."

Carson picked up on her sadness. Reaching over to take her hand, he said, "At the risk of making things awkward, would you like to talk about it? I don't know you well; you seem warm and friendly to me. But it does seem like you're holding back, somehow."

She fixed those eyes that Carson found so entrancing on him, narrowed in suspicion. "Are you sure you want to hear about this? We're having a lovely time. Why dredge up old hurts?"

"Well, they're not our hurts," he pointed out. "I don't see much of a risk in offering to listen. It's just...I suppose that I have a bit of a white-knight mentality. A damsel in distress triggers something in me. And if said damsel is both intelligent and beautiful? How am I supposed to pass up the opportunity to help out?"

Risa smiled demurely, obviously pleased with his description of her. "You are a charmer, aren't you?"

Carson smiled and shrugged. "Not really. I only say what's on my mind."

"Thank you for saying it, even if you are only trying to make me feel better," she replied. She paused before continuing. "Very well, if you're sure you want to hear it, I'll tell you my story." When he nodded in encouragement, she began, "Once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamed of making a difference in the world. She grew up on stories about her family's roots in Africa, and how difficult the struggle was for the people there. When she got older, her family instructed her on her part in this grand plan to take the best of humanity and mix them all up to have children that would help improve things for everyone.

"When she got old enough, her family entertained suitors, in a very old-fashioned, traditional way. She met, and was courted by, a man that her family approved of. She thought he was handsome, smart, and kind, and she fell in love. They married, and for several years, things went exactly as planned. She graduated from college and law school. They had three beautiful children together, two girls and a boy. Her life was perfect. Or so she thought.

"What she didn't know what that her husband had begun a second life, a second family, with another woman. He used his business travels to maintain a life apart from the one they'd built together. Her world fractured when he was killed in a transport accident. In the vehicle with him were a woman and two children, a 2-year old and an infant. He was supposed to be on a business trip, but he was really spending time with his other family."

She hastily wiped away a tear that leaked from her eye. Then she swallowed and looked at Carson. "I loved Taric with all my heart. We had a good life together, and I got three wonderful children out of the marriage. But...finding out that the last few years of our marriage hadn't just been a rough patch, that I hadn't been imagining our growing apart? That was too much to take. I decided to just focus on my career and raising my children. I guess I just shut off the emotional side of myself."

"I can't imagine what possessed your husband to hurt you like that," said Carson. "But don't give up on all of us because of one fool. I meant what I said about you being beautiful and intelligent, and you're a lot of fun when you relax and let your guard down. If you let them, guys would be falling all over themselves to be by your side." He gripped her hand firmly, looking her in the eye, and said, "You deserve to be happy, every day of your life."

Risa smiled, almost shyly. "Maybe you're right. I've really had a good time this evening. It's been a long time since I felt so relaxed in the presence of a man."

"See?" joked Carson. "We're not all monsters."

"Maybe you're right," she said. "And maybe it just needed to be the right man." Carson tried not to read too much into the look she gave him, but he couldn't deny that his attraction to her made him hope that she wanted more than friendship.

Inside, Risa was confused by her feelings towards Carson. He was undeniably handsome, despite their racial differences. This was something more, though. She'd denied her desires for a man in her life for so long that she'd even stopped actively evaluating the men she met with romantic interest. But the longer she was around Carson, the more she saw what kind of man he was...well, it had been a long, long time since she'd felt this way about a man. Driving home that night, Risa found herself wondering if Carson felt the same way.

*****

The pounding on his door woke Jordan from the fretful sleep he'd drifted into. Checking the time, he saw that he'd slept for about two hours. That's better than I've been getting in one shot at night, he thought. Ever since discovering what his father was doing, Jordan had been doing his best to fly under the radar, terrified at what would happen if his involvement in uncovering the plot were discovered. He hadn't been sleeping or eating well, and he barely left his apartment longer than necessary for work.

He checked the video monitor before pressing the button that caused the door panel to slide silently into the adjacent wall. "Patterson?" he said in confusion as the man swept past him into the room.

"Is there anyone else here? Your wife? Anyone?" his former employee asked urgently.

Jordan looked at him in confusion and suspicion, hesitant to answer until he knew why Patterson was asking. Seeing his reluctance, Patterson sighed in exasperation and said, "I'm here to help you. Now, is there anyone else here?"

Shaking his head slowly, Jordan refused to take his eyes off the man.

"Good," Patterson said, before heading towards the bedroom. Jordan followed him slowly, still confused about the sudden reappearance of the closest thing to a friend that he'd had over the last several years. As he watched, Patterson rummaged through the closet, grabbing the oversized duffel bags that Jordan used as luggage. He threw them on the bed and began emptying drawers haphazardly into the bags.

"What are you doing?" asked Jordan.

Patterson stopped and walked over to his former employer. He squeezed Jordan's shoulders and said, "You were right about your father. I didn't want to believe it, but it's true. And Jordan? He knows. Or at least, he suspects that you know. He has a team on its way here to collect you. So we need to move, now."

Jordan's eyes widened in panic. "But...how? I've been so careful to act normal around him."

"I'll tell you all about it when we have more time, but we've got to move. Grab as much stuff as you can, anything you can't bear to leave behind. We're going to disappear for a while."

His panic and confusion were causing his brain function sluggishly. "Disappear? Can't I just play dumb? Pretend I don't know what he's talking about?"

Looking at him sadly, Patterson said, "Trust me when I say this: If you are here when that team shows up, you are a dead man. I don't know what all you did, or what proof he might have, but your dad doesn't send Emil out with a collection team unless he wants to make someone disappear."

Finally, Jordan's brain managed to begin running at its normal pace, and he leapt to the task of gathering what he wanted to take with him. After a few minutes, he paused and said, "How do you know about this? Why should I trust you? What if this is just a trick to get me to make it look like I disappeared?"

"I bugged his office, okay? After that night at the club, I couldn't get what you said out of my mind. It was so out of character for you. You have to admit, you don't usually care too much about other people. So, I thought you might have cracked or something. But then I started thinking about some other rumors that I'd heard over time, and some pieces began to fall into place. What cinched it, though, was when the SSH pulled me in to question me about your father's business dealings." He stopped, apparently deciding whether to say something. Finally, he said, quietly, "I offered to be a CI for them."

"CI? Confidential informant?" asked Jordan. Patterson nodded, watching him carefully. "So, if you've been spying on my dad, why do we need to disappear?"

Glancing at his timepiece, Patterson shook his head. "There's no time. Let's get going and I'll answer any questions you have along the way. But they'll be here any minute." The two men rapidly gathered as much as they could carry easily, and exited the apartment. They got on the road and lapsed into a tense silence. Jordan watched as the scenery passed them by and wondered when, or if, his life would ever return to normal.

Idly, he wondered if Aria would notice that he was missing. She won't even care, he thought.

*****

"Would you please just tell me what's going on? I've lived with you long enough to know there's something on your mind." Cara blushed in embarrassment at her husband's words. Stephen Dekker may not be able to walk, but his eyes and brain still functioned. How she thought he wouldn't pick up on her unease around him...

She sighed, and said the words that men for eons had dreaded: "We need to talk."

Stephen's lips tightened into a thin line, but he nodded in agreement as he looked at her. Did he...was that relief in his eyes? she thought.

They settled into the living room. Stephen didn't bother to maneuver himself out of the motorized chair that he spent so many of his waking hours in. The settlement from his construction company had been large, but the bills were substantial as well, so they didn't have many credits remaining. Fortunately, included in the package had been a top-of-the-line cart to maximize his mobility. The company had purchased it, and they were contractually obligated by the settlement to pay for its maintenance and any upgrades that came along. Stephen had always bitterly thought it was small consolation for losing the use of his legs, but he couldn't deny that his life was easier than it otherwise would have been for its presence.

Cara settled nervously onto her favorite settee. Stephen figured it was her show, so he waited patiently for her to begin. Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him. "Are you happy with our life together, Stephen? I mean, obviously, you'd be a lot happier if the accident hadn't happened. But we can't change that. All we can do it move forward in our current circumstances. So, are you happy?"

Stephen wanted to turn away from her to hide the emotions on his face. It was more trouble that it was worth, though, sitting in the chair, so he didn't bother. Still, he waited a few moments before he responded. "Have you ever heard the term, 'roping the wind?'" he asked. Cara's brow furrowed, and she shook her head in denial.

"What's it mean?"

"It's an old-fashioned saying, something my grandfather used to say. I asked him that question once, and he told me that it was used to describe an action that was ultimately futile. For example, you can try to hold onto something wild and uncontrollable, like the wind, all you want. But in the end, you can't do it."

Cara looked at him, still confused. "I guess I can see that. What does that have to do with you being happy?"

Stephen smiled. "I promise, I'm not trying to be difficult. This day has been a long time coming, and it's harder than I thought. When we first got together, I thought I had managed to rope the wind. You were this wild, exotic creature, and I was determined to hold onto you as long as I could."

She grinned back at him. "You weren't exactly tame back then."

He nodded in recognition, saying, "Mostly I was just trying to keep up with you. I think that gets to the heart of things since the accident." He took a deep breath and sighed before continuing. "Sweetheart, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. But you deserve a better life than I can give you. I believe that with all my heart, and knowing that I can't give you that kind of life is tearing me up inside."

"I've never complained about our life," she protested.

Stephen held up his hand. "I know. You'd never do that, but I'm not blind to how much you gave up when we got together. Not to mention how much it hurts you to be around babies or how often you turn down social invitations because of the burden of my condition." He wheeled over, taking her hand in his. "Being with you made me happy for a long time, but that's not the case anymore. I can't get over the guilt and shame, and it's making me resent you. It's like, the nicer you are to me, the more accommodating you are, the more I want to scream, 'Can't you see how much of your life you're wasting?'"

Tears were leaking from Cara's eyes. She didn't feel guilty. As her husband said, she'd done her best to keep their marriage going. But it couldn't be done with only one partner participating. It was becoming obvious that their time together had drawn to a close. Though she did feel sad, the overriding emotion was relief.

Quietly, Stephen said, "I will always love you, Cara. But I want you to find someone to help you make the life you deserve. Will you do that for me?"