Page 17 of Sibs

Finally: "Okay. That sounds nice. See you then."

  Ed hung up, jumped up, and was doing a little victory dance around his desk when his secretary walked in.

  "Are you all right, Mr. Bannion?"

  Ed stopped abruptly and straightened a few papers on his desk top.

  "My foot fell asleep. But now I'm fine, Nancy. Just fine."

  And I'm going to be even better!

  ▼

  11:02 P.M.

  Kara dragged herself back to Kelly's apartment with the promise that if the next few nights went as well as last night, she'd pronounce herself safe to sleep at Ellen's. It was the only way she could cajole herself into returning. The thought of another night alone in that apartment was daunting.

  That was why a warm glow suffused her when Rob popped out of his car and intercepted her at the door to the apartment house. It would be good to have company for a while.

  "I can't stay," he said. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I called a few times but there was no answer."

  "I'm fine," she said. "Come on in. I'll fix you a drink. Or coffee. Whichever you prefer."

  He looked surprised. "You sure?"

  "Absolutely."

  ▼

  One drink turned into two as they sat on the couch and talked while VH-1's music videos danced across the TV screen. And the more they talked, the more Kara realized that all her old feelings for Rob were very much alive. She felt so comfortable with him, so safe. And warm. Then her eyes caught sight of his pistol in its clip holster, resting on the end table.

  "God, I wish you weren't a cop."

  "I think maybe it's genetic, passed down from my dad. I can't help it."

  "Okay. Then I wish you weren't a cop in New York City."

  "Where, then?"

  "Someplace that wasn't full of junkies, pimps, pushers, rapists, and killers. I'm afraid for you."

  "That's just it, Kara. I don't see this city as full of junkies, pimps, pushers, rapists, and killers. They're not the city. They've just gravitated here because of its size. Manhattan is like a big pond. They're the scum that floats on top. They get all the attention. They're what too many outsiders see and remember most when they come here. The pond scum may make the pond look uninviting, but they're not the pond. I work for the rest of the pond—the people you don't notice, the ones who live here and work here and make it go. Like your Aunt Ellen. Like… Kelly. I'm here for them. I'm no Sir Galahad in a suit of armor and I'm not Dirty Harry, but in a lot of ways I'm what stands between them and God knows what. I bitch about the rules and regs and the politicians as much as the next guy, but I do take what I do seriously, and I do mean to do it well."

  Kara stared at him. She realized that she had never truly appreciated Rob. She had loved him, yes, and probably still did, but she had never really appreciated his depth. She sensed something rare in him, something to be nurtured and cherished.

  Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

  "They're lucky to have you."

  A retread video of "Do That To Me One More Time" began to run on VH-1.

  "We used to dance to that," Rob said, "Wanna?"

  Kara smiled. "Yeah. I wanna."

  They rose and slipped into each others arms and began to sway to the music. Rob wasn't much of a dancer but Kara couldn't have cared less. She gave in to the pleasurable warmth of his arms around her, the faint residue of his Old Spice after shave.

  "It's been a long time, Rob."

  "It's been forever."

  They kissed. A long kiss. Kara felt the warmth gathering in her. Reflexively she began to pull away, then she fought the reflex. She felt his tongue probing. She opened to it. Soon they were pulling at each other's clothing.

  "Ten years!" Rob whispered. "I've been waiting ten years for you to come back!"

  Kara said nothing. She knew she really hadn't come back in any true sense. But here, tonight, now, she was back. And she wanted to be with Rob.

  He ran a finger up her left arm to the deltoid.

  "Look at the definition. You've been working out?"

  "Nautilus and aerobics."

  She shivered as his finger continued over her shoulder and down to her breast where it circled the nipple. They kissed again.

  "I've missed you like crazy," he whispered into her ear.

  "I've missed you, too, Rob. Especially like this."

  He pulled his head back and smiled at her.

  "I didn't know feminist writers went in for this sort of stuff."

  "We like it as much as the next person. Maybe even more."

  "I suppose you want to be on top."

  "You've got it."

  Laughing, they made their way to the bedroom where they took turns being on top.

  Eventually they ended up side by side. Kara lay with her head on his shoulder.

  Rob said, "We got to try this more often. Ten years is just a tad long for a dry spell. Think we can get together again before the end of the century?"

  "I think I'd like that. This was wonderful. Rob."

  And she meant it. She couldn't remember the last time it had been this good. She felt relaxed, content, emotionally complete. She knew the feeling wouldn't last long, but she relished the sensation while she could. She realized how much had been missing from her life. She knew it wasn't just the orgasm, it was the intimacy. She had been avoiding intimacy since she'd left New York. It had become a pattern of behavior: Don't get to know a man well enough to allow an emotional bond to develop. Keep him at arms' length at all times. A couple of the members in one of the women's groups she belonged to had misinterpreted that and Kara had found it necessary to put them straight: She wasn't interested in a relationship with anybody. The pattern had developed into a reflex, one she'd had to suppress tonight.

  She was glad she had. This was good, this was right, this was rare and precious. Snuggled against Rob, with his arm around her shoulder, she felt warm and secure, and best of all, alive.

  She drifted off to sleep.

  I've done it! I've sent out the warning! What a stroke of genius! What a brilliant move, even if I do say so myself!

  And the swine hasn't the slightest idea what I've done. Obviously. If he did he would be raging at me. And punishing me severely.

  I cannot escape punishment.

  So what? That was a given when I began this little project. If he intercepts the warning, he'll make me suffer. If she receives the warning, she will show it to him, or someone else will tell him of it, and the result will be the same, although probably worse in the latter scenario.

  So, whether I succeed or fail, I shall suffer dearly. The anticipation of it is worse than a sword poised over my neck, waiting to fall. Decapitation—ha! That would be a pleasure compared to what I face.

  But whatever I suffer shall be worth it. Not for her sake alone. At first I thought my scheme to warn her was pure selflessness, but that's not the case. No. I'm doing this more for myself than for her. This is my Spartan uprising, my storming of the Bastille, my Boston Tea Party. With this act I put him on notice that he has not broken me.

  I only hope my warning reaches her. For if it does, and if she heeds it, I will have wounded him, and he has never been wounded before. Knowing that is worth any punishment.

  It should reach her by Thursday.

  And then all Hell may break loose.

  February 18

  2:32 A.M.

  Rob awoke in the dark to a delicious feeling. He had a huge erection. And it was in Kara's mouth. He groaned and arched his back as she worked her lips and tongue up and down the shaft. There'd been oral sex during their affair ten years ago, but never like this. This was fabulous. Rob closed his eyes and drifted on the pleasure.

  He felt Kara's weight shift as she straightened up and straddled him. And then he was inside her and she was bucking her hips up and down, sliding him in and out of her at an ever-increasing rate. He looked up as she leaned over him, her breasts bobbing, her eyes closed, her upper lip caught be
tween her teeth. When he reached up and ran his palms over her hard nipples she moaned and increased the tempo of her hips. Rob matched her thrust for thrust until they reached a furious pace. Finally, when he knew he could hold back no longer, Kara suddenly stopped her undulations. As he exploded within her, she straightened and stiffened and shuddered as a soft, high-pitched scream escaped through her clenched teeth. Then she collapsed beside him and they both lay there panting.

  When he caught his breath, when he could speak again, Rob turned to her.

  "Kara, that was fantastic. What—"

  Without a word, Kara turned her back to him.

  "Kara?" He propped himself up on one arm and shook her shoulder gently. "Kara?"

  She was sound asleep.

  Rob stared at her bare back in the darkness as a mix of feelings washed over him. He was annoyed and he was confused, but there was something else. He didn't recognize it at first. An alien feeling, a new experience: he felt… used.

  Which was ridiculous. Kara didn't use people. Kara wasn't—

  A thought struck him with an icy shock that sent cold tendrils writhing along his body.

  Who had he just made love to? Kara… or Janine?

  Rob didn't sleep the rest of the night.

  ▼

  7:52 A.M.

  Kara noticed that Rob was unusually subdued at breakfast. He'd always been a morning person. Even last week, after sleeping in a chair all night, he'd been unbearably cheery. Not today. He looked tired and seemed troubled as he leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped his coffee. Preoccupied.

  Not Kara. She was up.

  Two—count 'em—two nights in a row with no craziness. No writing on walls, no stunts with knives, nothing! And no sleeping pill last night.

  Maybe good sex was a better medication than Halcion.

  Either way, everything was beginning to fall into place. If she continued on this kind of even keel she might consider finding a therapist in Philadelphia to work this through. Between the Jefferson Medical Center and Hahnemann she was sure she could find a psychiatrist of Dr. Gates' caliber to continue her treatment. She'd mention it to him during their session today.

  And it would be so good to be back in Pennsylvania. She could ship Kelly's things home and sift through them at her leisure, keeping the personal items—the yearbooks, the photos, her records, things like that— and giving the rest to a charity.

  But returning to the farm meant leaving Rob. A part of her—a big part of her—didn't want to leave him. Last night had been wonderful, and waking up with him beside her had made the morning brighter. There had to be a way they could work something out.

  She watched him and felt the desire rise up in her again. She wondered at that. Making love to Rob last night must have started some sort of chain reaction within her, causing her body to want to make up for all the years without him. It had been too long. She was actually sore down there. She even had a vague memory of a sex dream last night during which she'd practically raped Rob. And strangely enough, Dr. Gates seemed to have been there. A weird dream. But dreams weren't the real thing. She'd been disappointed when he got up and took a shower first thing this morning. She'd been hoping for a reprise.

  "Something bothering you, Rob?"

  At the sound of her voice he started and sloshed a little coffee onto the back of his hand.

  "No. Everything's fine. Why?"

  "You've hardly said a word all morning."

  He smiled and Kara thought it looked a little forced.

  "Sorry. A lot of things on my mind, I guess. All sorts of stuff piling up at the precinct. There don't seem to be enough hours in the day." He glanced quickly away from her, then back. "Are you seeing Dr. Gates today?"

  "Eleven A.M. sharp. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. But I don't know for how long."

  Concern leapt into his eyes.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, things seem to be pretty much under control at the moment. Nothing's happened here like it did at the farm."

  "Maybe, but you can't quit therapy."

  "I've no intention of—" Something was going on here. "Rob, what's wrong?"

  A tortured expression flickered across his face, and then he put down his coffee and slipped his arms around her. He squeezed her so tightly for a moment that she couldn't breathe, then he relaxed.

  "I just want you to be all right, that's all."

  Kara looked into his eyes and saw that he meant it. She kissed him.

  "I will be all right, Rob. I'm going to see to that." She glanced at her watch. "But I've got to get going. I want to be back at Ellen's when Jill wakes up. I want to have breakfast with her."

  "I'll give you a lift."

  "That's okay. I'll walk. I feel good this morning."

  She could tell by his bleak expression that Rob felt anything but.

  They parted at the front entrance. Kara waved and headed uphill toward Second Avenue. She kept up a brisk pace. She wanted to squeeze in some school work with Jill between breakfast and her appointment with Dr. Gates. Kara didn't like her missing all these class days, but she didn't know what else she could do at present. Until she knew for sure how long she'd be staying here, they'd both have to play it by ear.

  The sun was warm on her back. It was a bright, crisp, beautiful winter day, with hardly a breeze stirring the air. She had to admit it: New York City could be nice sometimes.

  ▼

  The steel band that had been constricting Rob's chest all morning loosened a bit as he watched Kara walk away. All night he had lain awake trying to think of a way to ask her if the woman astride him in the middle of the night had been Kara. He had searched the still darkness for just the right words, the perfect framing of the question so that she wouldn't be hurt and insulted if the answer was yes, and she wouldn't be frightened out of her mind if it was no.

  He'd come up with nothing. From the moment she'd awakened beside him he had tried to ask her, but at the last moment would lose his nerve.

  This wasn't like him. He could interrogate with the best of them, asking the most personal, the most outrageous, the most leading, self-incriminating questions without batting an eye. But Kara wasn't a suspect. He couldn't bear to hurt her.

  For all her outward toughness, Rob still sensed something fragile within Kara. He had to be very careful. He had lost her once. He didn't want to lose her again.

  He watched her turn downtown onto Second Avenue and disappear. He hoped Dr. Gates was as good as Doc Winters said he was. Rob had a feeling Kara needed more help than she realized.

  ▼

  12:48 P.M.

  Kara cradled Jill on her lap in Ellen's dining room.

  "So, bug. Are you bored here?"

  "Oh, no!" Jill said. "Lucia lets me help her in the kitchen, and when she doesn't need help mixing stuff, I watch the VCR. It's got great stuff, Mom. I'll show you."

  "That's okay, Jill. I've—"

  But Jill was off and running. Kara followed. The TV was running by the time she reached the den.

  "You see, you put the thing in here and the movie comes on the TV. I was watching Never ending Story before lunch. See? It's still on. It's really good."

  Kara watched a boy sitting atop a seemingly endless snake with a dog's head as it wound through outer space

  "And I saw Flight of the Navigator and Pinocchio— that was scary—Old Yeller—that made me cry. And Aunt Ellen's going to get me a new Disney movie every day! It's so great! Can we get one, Mom?"

  "We'll think about it."

  Kara vowed that when she finished her book she'd blow part of the final advance payment on a VCR. God, she had to get to work on it. But she couldn't think, couldn't organize her thoughts. Lately everything in her head seemed jumbled. She needed to get back to Pennsylvania, and soon.

  But for now, the VCR was a blessing. With no school and no friends, Jill would have been bored stiff without it.

  "When the movie's finished, we'll take a walk to a museum. How doe
s that sound?"

  "The one with the funny name?"

  "Not the Guggenheim. Today it will be the Museum of Modern Art. But you can call it what you used to call me: MOM A."