The REASON Series - the Complete Collection (35 page)

Mikah takes me through the rest of the house, leading the way back across the main room into a guest bedroom on the other side of the house and then his office.
 

As we come out of the office back into the main room, he comes to a sudden stop. "Hello, Red."

I peek around the doorjamb. Red is standing near the breakfast bar.
 

"Hello, sir. Vivienne," he says and nods in my direction.
 

"Hello," I say quietly.
 

He smiles and turns back toward Mikah. "Chrys is here. Shall I have Andrew bring him up?"

Mikah looks quickly to me then back to Red. I can feel my brow furrow.
 

"Give me about five minutes, then go ahead and bring him up," Mikah says to Red, but he is still looking at me.
 

"Yes, sir," Red says and walks toward the entryway.
 

"Who's Chrys?" I ask as soon as Red is out of sight.
 

Mikah takes a couple of steps into the sitting area in front of his office.
 

"Chrys is my lawyer. The one I'd like you to talk to about..."

"Do I have to?" I ask.
 

"No, you don't. But Stevens will be here around one. I’d like you to have some time to discuss things with Chrys before Stevens arrives. I’d like Chrys to be present while Stevens is here.”
 

"I don't understand why all this is necessary." I lean into the jamb of the office door and take a long, deep breath.

"I'm not entirely sure it's necessary either. You've done nothing wrong, but I...I'd like Chrys to be here as a buffer from Stevens. He'll know if the questions are crossing the line or making you uncomfortable. And..." He pauses. "And he can help keep me in line from doing or saying something I shouldn't to Stevens." He runs a hand through his hair.
 

"I don't mind talking to Chrys as much as I mind talking to Stevens. The only thing that I have to tell him, he already knows." My voice is soft but I’m suddenly very nervous. "Or he should know. He would have access to my medical file as far as my injuries were concerned. If he suspects anyone other than that asshole, then he's barking up the wrong tree."
 

Mikah nods. "I know, sweetheart. I don't know what it is that he's after, what information he thinks you can provide that he doesn't already have. But unless there is some legal way out of you talking to him, I can't hold Stevens off forever, as much as I'd like to." I can see the concern in his eyes.

"I'll talk to both of them if it means that once it's done, it's done, and I don't have to do it again."
 

I have a gut feeling that it's a waste of time to talk to either one of them. If that cave dream is any indication, I have a feeling that whoever that dark voice belongs to is having his own way with Riley. I shudder.
 

After a few heartbeats of silence, I hear a door close and shoes clicking across the hardwood floor. I lean back, shrinking into his office as a rather tall, well-dressed man emerges from the hallway.

FIFTEEN

For being a lawyer, Chrys is surprisingly gentle when it comes to asking me questions. It’s hard to talk about again, and I can tell Mikah is uncomfortable with my answers, but they’re the same ones I gave him in the hospital on Saturday night. I'd hoped that Mikah could act as a buffer and handle most of the answers, but Chrys is adamant that the answers come from me and me alone.
 

When I’m finished telling Chrys everything I remember, I say, "I don't want to talk to Stevens."

"I don't see any reason for you to talk to him," Chrys replies matter-of-factly. "The evidence of what happened to you is in your medical file. You can identify Riley in a lineup if necessary."
 

I shudder at the idea of having to look at him again.
 

Chrys continues, "With the previous case, Riley presents with a history of violence toward you, the police shouldn't need anything more. I will try talking to Stevens first, see what it is that he's after, and then we can go from there." He doesn't look at Mikah when he talks, which is reassuring.
 

Chrys is rather handsome, with dirty blond hair that falls to just below his ears. Definitely doesn't seem like the lawyer type. Maybe that's why I can talk to him without issue. I've never had to deal with a lawyer before, and if I ever have to deal with one again, someone like Chrys would be great. He's not abrasive in any way, and I like that.
 

"I have a feeling he just wants to see her, talk to her, maybe even apologize to her," Mikah says, and I look at him, puzzled. "He's pretty messed up over what happened to you, and while I'd like to wring his neck for letting it happen, in the end he and his department were hurt far more than you were."
 

I nod slowly, taking in his words. I remember him telling me about the cop who was parked outside of my apartment and how he was killed. Guilt knots my stomach. If Stevens hadn't felt it necessary to protect me from Riley, his cop would still be alive. In a way, it’s my fault that the officer died.

"I'll talk to Stevens," I blurt out. "Despite the fact that what happened to me happened, he deserves a chance to say his piece."
 

Mikah looks at me, awe etched on his features.

"Okay, would you like me to talk to him first?" Chrys pulls my attention away from Mikah.
 

I nod. "Sounds good to me."
 

I hear the door open and the squeak of tennis shoes across the floor. "Lunch is ready downstairs," Celeste says.
 

"Chrys, would you like to join us?" Mikah asks him.

"No, I'm going to make some notes. I'll take a sandwich, though, if you don't mind."
 

Mikah turns to Celeste. "Would you mind?"
 

"No, not at all," she replies and walks into the kitchen.
 

"Chrys, why don't you call me when Stevens is ready. I’ll tell Red to bring him up here and you can chat with him first. We will come back up when it's time." Mikah stands and offers me his hand. I take it and stand too.
 

"Sounds good," Chrys replies, and Mikah and I head for the door.

SIXTEEN

We’ve barely finished our lunch of salad and chicken soup - I'm thankful this soup is so good, otherwise I might tire of it - when Mikah's phone rings.

"Blake," he answers. I see his face fall slightly.
 

We haven't talked too much over our meal. I get the impression that Mikah is waiting for me to talk. Though about what, I’m not sure. Or maybe he is just trying to make sure that I really am okay after what’s happened to me.
 

"Alright, Chrys, we'll be up in a moment," I hear him say, then he shifts the phone and pushes a button.
 

"Chrys says that Stevens is satisfied with what he's told him regarding what happened," Mikah says rather stoically, as if he's thinking about something.

"I'm still mad at him," I say quietly. I look up at him and he smiles.
 

"That makes two of us.” Mikah wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. He lightly kisses the top of my head. "It will be okay." He squeezes my shoulders. "How are you feeling?" he asks.
 

"Okay. Just tired."
 

"Alright, we'll make this quick and you can come down here and take a nap."

"Will you join me?"

He smiles a little wider. "Maybe." He grins.
 

I smile back and we head for the door and back upstairs.
 

As we walk into the apartment, I hear Chrys talking but I can’t really make out what he's saying. We come around the corner to find Stevens, Chrys and another cop - one of the ones from Thursday night, whose name I can't remember - sitting at the dining room table.
 

Stevens stands and turns to face us. Mikah still has his arm around me protectively, but Stevens smiles when he sees me.
 

"Hi, Vivienne," Stevens says, then he points in the direction of the other cop, who's now standing as well. "This is Officer Ruiz."
 

"Hi," I quietly, not sure why I'm so shy.
 

Mikah leads me a little closer to the table and Stevens comes over. He's dressed in full uniform, though I notice that both his and Ruiz's gun holsters are empty. Red must have made them leave them downstairs.

"How are you feeling?" Stevens asks. There is a lot of emotion playing on his features.

"I'm okay, just very tired."
 

"I'm sorry, Vivienne. Very sorry," Stevens says. His voice breaks and I can see raw emotion in his eyes. The look makes my heart lurch.
 

"Stop. I'm alive, it's alright," I say, and as I do, I realize that it really is okay. I have no reason to be mad at Stevens or anyone else for what happened to me, except Riley. "Riley is a very driven individual. He will let nothing stand in the way to getting what he wants," I say, and Stevens relaxes a little bit. I step out of Mikah's arm and gently hug Stevens. I feel all eyes on me as I do this, but I understand the pain he is going through. If it helps him heal from what happened to me, I'll do it again and again.
 

"You're too kind to me, Vivienne." He wraps his arms gently around me and squeezes just a bit. I can tell he's being cautious.
 

I pull back. "Is that the only reason you're here?" I ask and step back.
 

Mikah is quick to wrap his arm around me, and exhaustion washes over me.
 

"No, I wanted to ask you a few questions, but Chrys has answered most of them for you."
 

Mikah leads me to the table and pulls out a chair for me.
 

"Thank you," I say as I take a seat.
 

Stevens, Chrys and Mikah all sit. Ruiz stays standing about ten feet away.
 

"I just wanted to ask you a couple of follow-up questions. I'll make this quick, promise," Stevens says. "First, Mr. Crowley, downstairs from your apartment. Do you know whether he would have let Riley into the building?"
 

The mention of Mr. Crowley brings a knot to my stomach. "I don't think so. He knew his tenants pretty well. Especially if Riley said my name, he wouldn't have let him in."

"That's something we've been trying to figure out, how he got into the building."
 

"Again, Riley's determination got him into that building. I vaguely remember Mr. Crowley's door being open when I got home. I didn't think much of it because he's done it in the past when he's run off to a tenant’s apartment," I say, my voice still quiet and weak. But Stevens is listening intently.
 

"Detective, do you know why his door was open?" Mikah asks.
 

Stevens face scrunches up a bit. "Mr. Crowley was..." He pauses and looks at me. I nod slightly for him to continue. "He was killed. From what we can tell, it happened before he got to you."
 

I feel my eyes fill with tears. Mr. Crowley was a really nice man. He didn't deserve this.
 

"How do you know that?" Mikah asks.
 

Stevens shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "We, uh..." He looks to Officer Ruiz then back down at the table. "Forensics came back on Vivienne's apartment. We found a t-shirt that wasn't Vivienne's. It was white, and it had several spatters of blood on it. We found three types of blood." I flinch. "Vivienne's, Mr. Crowley's, and what we can only assume is Riley's, as it doesn't match any DNA in our system, but it matches DNA on a couple of hair fibers we found in Mr. Crowley's apartment as well as-" He pauses again, looking at me. "-on Rebecca."
 

I can feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. "That asshole," I spat. "I get it, I get me, I get why me, but damn it why them?" The tears are flowing harder. I bury my head in my hands and start to sob.
 

I vaguely hear Chrys. "I think we're done here. If you have any more questions for her, contact me. Or when you capture him and need an identification, let me know."
 

"Come ’ere, Viv." I feel Mikah's hand across my shoulders. His other hand snakes under my legs as he pushes the chair back and picks me up. "Here or downstairs?" he whispers.

"He-" I can't finish, but he catches my words and he turns toward his room.

SEVENTEEN

For two weeks Mikah barely steps foot out of the building, staying with me no matter what comes up. We talk, watch movies and take naps, and when he needs to do some work-related things, I indulge in his library. About a week into our self-imposed seclusion, I finally start to feel more like myself. I have a little trouble with being tired, but sometimes I think it is because I’m not doing much. Mikah and I start taking morning walks along the river, when the weather is decent.

Connor, Andrew and Red are ever-present in and around the two apartments, and I take it upon myself to get to know Connor and Andrew a little. They are really nice guys, and I get the distinct impression that they are naturally protective.
 

Zirah hasn't made an appearance since the Sunday I was released from the hospital, though, strangely, I keep having the same recurring dream about the white hallway and Mikah. I always seem to wake up right before we kiss, and it is getting to the point of frustration. I want to know what's going to happen next.
 

Mikah and I grow close, but he hasn't so much as kissed me - well at least on the lips - and it's starting to feel like my dream: so close and yet so far away.
 

Then he has some pressing business to deal with in Phoenix, and he leaves me alone for the first time since bringing me here.
 

I miss him like crazy, and it doesn't quite feel like home without him here. The house is far too quiet; I leave the iPod he gave me - loaded with music and hooked up to the stereo system – on all the time. When he first gave it to me, of course, I rebuffed the gift, telling him it was too much and there was no need to spend his hard-earned money on me. He wouldn’t hear it. Eventually I relented and kept it.