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chickensarentcheap · 2 years ago

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Lost and Found -Chapter Six

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

Warnings: angst, brief mentions of blood and gun violence

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @thesirenrealm @residentdormouse @asirensrage @munstysmind @muchadoaboutcj @starryeyes2000 @karimac @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @themaradaniels

My tag list is OPEN. Just give me a shout if you’d like to added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/115132501

******

FOUR AND A HALF YEARS LATER

The Continental Hotel, New York City

*****

Esme watches her daughter as she sleeps; the child’s dirty blond messy and wild, her long and lanky frame clad in a pair of Incredible Hulk pyjamas pants and a My Little Pony top. The clothes she’s been wearing when they’d been forced to flee into the dead of night; leaving behind all of their belongings save for whatever could be stashed in a single duffle bag and the little one’s favourite doll and stuffed animal. Even in slumber, Millie’s fear still lingers; a thumb tucked securely and comfortingly in her mouth and her nose still stuffed from the amount of crying she’d done. She’d been hysterical; terrified by the sounds of gunshots and the cries of injured and dying men and the sight of the corpses that lay strewn in the darkened hallways. Her world suddenly turned upside down; forced to abandon all her possessions aside from Posie and Franklin and the patchwork quilt from atop her bed.

The four-year-old had settled easily upon arrival at the hotel; comforted by Charon’s quiet voice and gentle demeanour and the cuddles he’d given her as he carried her up to their suite. She’s been there before and knows it’s a safe place; no harm can come to her when she’s behind their walls. She’s surrounded by people that love and protect her; Auntie Nik and Uncle John and Abuella; the woman who’d been posing as Millie’s nanny but had secretly been placed within the home to keep a watchful eye on both mother and child. And she has her momma of course; sticking tight to Esme's side and needing more reassurance and comfort and physical contact than usual. She’d manage to crack a smile and offer up a giggle when ‘grandpa Winston’ arrived; bringing with him Millie’s favourite storybook a handful of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of warm milk he’d ‘smuggled’ from the kitchen. And when sleep finally began to claim her once more, she had become uncharacteristically whiney and demanding; wanting comfort from no one but her mother and insisting that Esme cuddle with her. Even an hour and half later she still doesn’t have the heart to move the little one; her fingertips repeatedly drawing slow, methodical patterns on Millie’s back as she remains snuggled tightly into her side.

She is everything that Esme could have ever wanted. Beautiful and intelligent, intuitive and curious, compassionate and gentle, yet possessing a fieriness and tenacity that simmers just under the surface. Full of both giggles and sass; endlessly optimistic and finding joy in even the smallest of things, yet not afraid to stick for herself or others. She had spent years dreaming about being a mother; what her baby would look like, how their voice would sound, what their likes and dislikes would be, and all the things they could experience and enjoy together.

Even during those darker days after her marriage to Mark had disintegrated, she’d held onto the tiniest fragments of hope. Moments where she dared to think about meeting someone else and settling down and having a family. Musing about the day she’d have the courage to once again hand over not only her body, but also her heart and her soul. And despite vowing she’d never again possess that level of trust, there was always the thought that maybe…just maybe…there was someone incredible out there just waiting for her to cross their path. A true partner; a companion, lover, and best friend all rolled into one. Who’d pick her up instead of pushing her down and keeping her there; who would aid in repairing her trust issues and her shattered self-esteem and help her re-discover her voice and her independence. Someone to love and protect and have love and protect her in return; someone strong and resilient that could accept all her faults and blemishes and see past all of her quirks and eccentricities.

And somehow, she’d managed to find that. A man who had suffered immense trauma and loss, yet still had so much love left to give. Who, despite the horrors he’d witnessed both as a soldier and a mercenary, possessed a humanity and softness that she’d never encountered on the job before. He didn’t take pride in his work; killing was merely a means to an end, a way of securing his survival over that of his adversaries. His reputation as one of the ‘legends’ in the business hadn’t come with a tremendous ego; he never boasted about the length of his ‘kill sheet’ or share gruesome details of the brutality he’d inflicted. And he most certainly didn’t ‘name drop’; never speaking of the world leaders, drug lords, organized crime bosses, and weapons and human traffickers he’d single-handily taken down. Shockingly, he’d been a source of light in a dark and unforgiving business; surprisingly well-spoken and read, refreshingly quiet and unassuming, and stoically confident as opposed to nauseatingly cocky.

Admittedly, he’d been far from perfect. Filled to the brim with self-loathing and plagued by many demons; suffocating under the immense weight of sorrow, guilt, and regret. Waging a daily battle against his addictions; slowly killing himself with each dangerous mission he took and potent cocktails of booze and oxycontin. A heartbroken and grief-stricken man that believed that the debt left behind by one bad choice…one horrible decision…had to be paid with his life. Yet he’d given her access beyond those walls he’d built around his heart; allowing her to see past the tattered edges and the haunted eyes and the scars that littered his body and testified to a life lived on the edge. Opening up to her in ways he’d never been able to with another; Yet in the deepest and darkest recesses of their personal struggles and in the midst of the unpredictability and danger, they’d found one another. Two damaged and weary people somehow finding solace…and love…in the most unexpected place.

*****

“Millie okay?”

Nik poses the question when Esme joins her in the living room; the latter taking one last peek at the slumbering child before softly closing the bedroom door.

Nodding, she pads towards the sitting area; dropping heavily onto the couch across from her long-time friend. “Took a lot of extra cuddling and kisses and tons of reassurance, but she’s finally asleep.”

“You should be asleep, too. It’s been a hell of a night.”

Esme sighs heavily, then places her elbows on her knees and pushes her hands through her hair. “I can’t seem to shut my brain off. Just so many thoughts and they’re all going a mile a minute. It’s going to take a miracle, I think. To relax enough to sleep.”

“There’s some tea if you’re interested.” Nik nods towards the coffee table; gesturing towards a tray of china mugs and small containers of milk, cream, and sugar, a carafe of the beverage in question. “Decaf. I can’t fall asleep, either. But I also don’t want to be up for the next twenty-four hours, so….”

Leaning forward, Esme pours herself a cup; her hands still tremble as she selects two wedges of lemon as opposed to milk and sugar and drops them into the steaming beverage before She leans back on the couch; legs bent at the knee, feet on the cushion, and her eyes riveted on the gas fireplace across the room. Transfixed by the flicker flames and the faux acoustics; the sound of crackling wood piped through Bluetooth speakers placed strategically around the living area. It should be enough to relax her; the ambiance, the company, the assurance that she’s safe and sound behind The Continental’s four walls. But she’s still on edge; her body bruised and battered from fighting back against her assailants, exhausted from both the hasty escape and the restless hours with Millie following it.

“I am so sorry, Nik.”

Her friend glances up from the laptop on her thighs. “What’s there to be sorry for?”

“I don’t know what happened. I’ve been so careful. Eight months. That’s how long I was able to pull it off. No one suspected a thing. I never gave them a reason to. Everything was going so smoothly. And I was close…so close…” She chews pensively on her bottom lip. “...I don’t know what went wrong. Where I screwed up.”

“It wasn’t you, Esme. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything RIGHT. You’re the reason things went so smoothly for as long as they did. It was a security breach. Through what I’d assumed was a secure server. A VERY secure server. All it took was someone with the time and the patience and they were to access every piece of personal information we have on you.”

“But why would they even be looking? It must be someone connected to the family. Have must have given them a reason to question who I REALLY was. Why else would they start digging? I had to have slipped up. Somewhere along the line.”

“You’re NOT to blame,” Nik stresses. “It wasn’t something you did or didn’t do. We’ve been watching and listening all this time; you never once gave them a reason to suspect anything. You were IN. You were part of that family. They were planning your wedding to their son. They were PAYING for everything. That’s not something anyone would do if they suspected their future daughter-in-law was up to no good.”

“So what could it have been? I had to have attracted attention somehow. They wouldn’t just randomly hack into your server and go looking for me. Something had to have triggered them. To look into me. There had to be something I did or something I said or….”

“The only thing we can think of is that someone saw you on the street. With Alessio. Or even with other members of the family. Someone caught sight of you, thought you looked familiar and took things from there.”

“How long? How long do you think they’ve known?”

“The family itself? Likely less than two days. The tip that they were going to make a move on you came almost thirty-six hours ago. We had to stay on our toes; be ready to go at the drop of a hat. It was only an hour between when we got the final call and when I contacted you. To let you know what was going down.”

“Why do you think they waited? Why didn’t they just act as soon as they got the info?”

“They needed time to get something together. Formulate a plan. Had it just been as easy as wanting to kill you, it would have taken one person. That’s it. You don’t need an army of men to take down one woman. A bullet to the head would have sufficed. They definitely had other things up their sleeves. Horrible things.”

“They were going to grab both of us, weren’t they. Not just me. Millie too.”

Nik nods. “The threat was for both of you.”

The harsh reality causes her to shiver. The thoughts of the horrors that would have awaited them chilled her to the bone; nauseated at the thought of what they would have done to her daughter. People with no conscience or moral compass wouldn’t think twice about harming a child. And would not doubt inflict the most unimaginable, gruesome pain upon them.

“The thought of them getting a hold of her.” Emotion chokes at her and she struggles to hold back tears. “The things they would have done to her, Nik. Horrible, disgusting things. To a little girl. MY little girl. She’s my everything. My entire world. And if anything ever happened to her…”

“Nothing will happen to her. She’s safe. You both are.”

“I can’t help but hate myself for all of this. For getting her caught up in it in the first place. I swore I wouldn’t go back. I promised myself ‘behind the scenes’ and that was it. I wouldn’t put myself in danger, I would put a target on my back or on hers. I said I would just work on the down low and keep my face and name out of the circle. I didn’t want her mixed up in all this. She deserves better. So much better.”

“Esme, you’ve always done what’s best for her. You’ve always put her first. You’ve devoted your entire life to Millie. To make sure that she’s happy and healthy and well taken care of. You said it yourself; no one could have seen this coming.”

“I shouldn’t have taken the job. I should never have brought her into this life. I should have just stayed behind the scenes and stuck to being a mom. Now look. Look at what she’s been through. In only one night! If I’d just said no…”

“I was more persuasive and overbearing than I needed to be. I came on way too strong. Bullied you into taking it. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I never thought things would come to this. If I had, I never would have brought on board. I would never…ever…put you or Millie in danger. Especially Millie.”

Nik has been by their side since she’d left Australia; hastily arranging a flight out of the country and back to the states, hiding her away - in various safe places - from the High Table while John Wick and The Bowery King went to war against them. Supporting her through the pregnancy and faithfully attending doctors' appointments and ultrasounds; giving her the strong and unwavering support system she so desperately needed. Eventually helping her get back on her feet when the smoke finally settled; getting her and a then infant Millie settled in a brownstone apartment in Queens and bringing her back into the job. And keeping her whereabouts and her daughter’s existence a secret from the one person who deserved to know both. Vehemently arguing against Esme’s insistence to stay under the radar, but ultimately keeping her mouth shut.

“Like you said, there’s no way anyone could have known how badly things would go. And it had been so smooth! Up until now. I just don’t understand; how quickly things went sideways. I was so close, Nik. I was so close. To getting everything you needed.”

“In a way, this happening is a good thing. He messed with one of ours. I can go after him just for that alone and STILL collect on the payday. The client doesn’t need to know. That things went off the rails. But right now? Right now all that matters is you and Millie. And keeping you safe.”

“If it hadn’t been for you and John, we wouldn’t be. I hate to think of where we’d be right now. What they’d be doing to us. What they’d be doing to Millie.”

“Try not to dwell on it. I know that’s easier said than done, but you’re safe now. You both are. No one can get to you here. They can’t even get close.”

“It can only be a short stay. You heard what Winston said. With no real ties left to the place, it’s five days and that’s it. And then what? Where do we go from there? There’s no way this is going to be over by then. The DiTomasso’s are going to want a war.”

“Then that’s what we’ll give them. AFTER I get you and Millie out of the country and to somewhere safe. With someone that can keep an eye on both of you. Until things are taken care of here and you can come back.”

“Maybe this is a sign; all of this happening. That it’s time to move on. Maybe I’m being sent a clear message that New York City just isn’t for us. Not for the long term, anyway. Maybe we need something smaller. Quieter. Away from all the hustle and bustle. Somewhere where we’re not suffocated by things and people. Maybe that’s the kind of life Millie and I are both made for. I mean, I had that life before. And I liked it. Loved it, actually.”

Nik scowls. “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this…”

“I never wanted to leave. I had every intention to spend the rest of my life there. And if I’d been given any other choice, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. None of this ever would have happened. And Millie would be living her best life with BOTH her parents. Instead…I don’t know…instead of THIS.”

“You’ve given her a great life. You’ve…”

“People broke into my house in the middle of the night. ARMED people. And had they gotten a hold of us, they would have done horrible, horrible things to her. To a little girl. MY little girl. How is that giving her a great life, Nik? Having to bundle her up and escape in the middle of the night while people are shooting at us? That is far from a great life. For anyone! Never mind a little kid.”

“You didn’t know what was going to happen. You didn’t…”

“It doesn’t matter if I knew or not. I know the ins and outs of the job, I know how quickly things can go sideways. Just like how dangerous people can be. I did a stupid thing; putting her at risk. I never should have said ‘yes’ knowing what the DiTomasso’s were caught up in and just how bad things could go. Millie is completely innocent. She’s four years old. She doesn’t deserve to have a target on her back.”

“There was always going to be one. Considering who her father is and the number of toes he’s stepped on and the bridges he’s burned…”

“He was going to give it up. We talked about it. How once we got settled and started a family, he’d totally walk away. He’d find a regular job. Whether it was firefighting or construction or anything where he could work with his hands. It wasn’t going to be forever; being a mercenary. We had plans. Tons of them. And we were happy, Nik. We were happy and we were healing and….”

“And then the job caught up with you. And it always does. No matter how far you think you’ve run or how much time has passed. It finds you. One way or another.”

“But we still deserved a chance. At a normal life. And even if the job did catch up to us, Tyler would have been more than capable of protecting us. ALL of us. That’s all we wanted. A chance.”

“And you think you have that now? A chance. It’s been almost five years, Esme. Millie’s four years old. You had all that time to tell him. That he was a dad again. And I told you many times…even when you were pregnant. to do it; to call him or text him and let him know about her. And you always brushed it off and said ‘soon. I’ll do it soon’. Only ‘soon’ went from being weeks to months to YEARS.”

“I couldn’t tell him about her until after things settled down and The High Table were no longer a threat. And by that time, Millie was almost a year old and I was scared. I was too afraid to contact him. All I could think about was that he’d be too angry and too hurt to want anything to do with me. That he’d even turn Millie away in order to punish me.”

“Tyler never would have done that. He may have been hurt and pissed off, but not enough to deny the existence of his own kid. Especially after losing Austin. And I told you all of this back then. That even if he couldn’t get past the anger enough to let you into his life, he’d never shut Millie out.”

“And I should have listened. I fucked up. Big time. I’m not denying it. I am OWNING it. And I’m trying to make amends. To make things right. We talked about this, Nik. About my plans. That I was going there once the job was over. That I was going to call him or show up on his doorstep and just…I don’t know…re-introduce myself into his life. It wouldn’t have even mattered if he didn’t want me. As long as he wanted Millie. That’s all that mattered to me. Because he deserves to know her. And she deserves to know HIM.”

“And now…”

“And now things are really messed up. But she’s still his daughter. And he’s still her dad. She’s got a long life ahead of her. There’s a lot of time left for the two of them to know one another and be part of each other’s lives.”

“You think it’s a good idea? Just showing up out of nowhere? Disrupting his entire life? He’s moved on Esme. Finally. He’s firefighting full time and he’s got his little side business doing renos. And he’s seeing someone. She seems nice. I don’t know how serious he is about her, but…”

“I’ve kept Millie from him long enough. He deserves to know he has a kid. And she deserves to have a dad. And not just any guy off the street that can fill the spot. Her ACTUAL dad. Why are you so against this? You were the one that was always trying to convince me to contact in him the first place. Now all of a sudden it’s a bad idea?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to go all the way there expecting things to go back to the way they were…between you and Tyler…and have him completely slam the door in your face. I know you, Esme. Better than you know yourself sometimes. And you can tell me until you’re blue in the face that this is only about Millie deserving to know her dad, but we both know there’s more to it than that. That you never got over him. You never stopped loving him.”

“I didn’t,” she admits. “I probably never will get over him. Or stop loving him. But Millie is at the top of my priority list. Would I like things to work out between Tyler and me? Do I still want a life with him? Of course. But I’ll cope if that never happens. If we all can manage is being friends and co-parenting together. My daughter deserves to know her father. And her father deserves to know her. She’s been a secret long enough.”

Nik nods slowly, considering the words. “So what now? Now that things went to hell? The main priority now has to be getting the two out of New York City and somewhere safe. WITH someone safe.”

“And you have someone in mind or…?”

“I’ve got a list. Of very skilled and reliable guys. Each and every one of them is capable of taking care of you and Millie. And of anyone that gets remotely close to you.”

“I don’t trust them.”

“You don’t even know them. I wouldn’t put you and Millie at risk by assigning someone that isn’t up to the task. I wouldn’t…”

“It has to be him. It has to be Tyler. No one else.”

“Esme, we just talked about this. He doesn’t even work full-time for me anymore. He’s got a life of his own. He…”

“He still picks up jobs here and there. He’s still on your payroll. And he’s who I want. This is my choice, Nik. My money. I want Tyler. And ONLY Tyler.”

“You can’t be…”

“I can’t trust just anyone with this. If it was just my life, I’d go along with whoever you picked. But we’re talking about Millie. My daughter. HIS daughter. That’s why it has to be him.”

“Hell of a way for him to find out he’s a dad again, don’t you think? If you were worried about him being angry before…”

“I’ll deal with that when it happens. I don’t want anyone else on this, Nik. I want Tyler. And I’m the client and I’m the one paying the big money. So it’s my choice to make. I want him. It HAS to be him.”

Nik relents; nodding slowly in agreement and understanding. Opening her mouth to speak and then finding herself interrupted; the bedroom door clicking open to reveal Millie standing on the threshold. Her treasured stuffed koala tucked her arm and her beloved doll clasped tightly by its hand.

“Momma?”

Esme offers a soft, comforting smile. “What’s wrong, sweet pea? Why…?”

“I woke up and you were gone. It scared me.”

“There’s no reason to be scared. No one can hurt us here. Come on; come and get a snuggle.”

“Posie and Franklin too?”

“Of course. You’re a package deal.”

It’s so bitter sweet; how quickly she’s growing. All long legs and torso and big feet; much taller and slimmer than an average four-year-old. And surprisingly nimble and athletic; excelling in dance and gymnastics and on the soccer pitch.

Millie climbs onto the couch and into Esme’s lap. And she consents to be held for several minutes; as tight as she possibly can stand it as her mother rubs her back and showers her cheeks and hair with kisses. Whispering words of love and comfort and praise; speaking of how brave and strong Millie is as she slowly and rhythmically rocks both their exhausted bodies back and forth. And once settled and content, the four-year-old stretches out on her side next to her; knees drawn into her chest and head on her momma’s thigh.

Grabbing the the throw off the back of the couch, Esme tucks it tightly around her daughter; softly humming as she combs her hand through her hair and a fingertip repeatedly traces the lines of her nose. A trick she’d discovered when Millie was just an infant; following a path down the bridge and around each nostril. Not ceasing the tender caresses until Millie’s eyes close and her breathing slows as she settles into sleep once more.

“It can’t be just anyone,” she stresses; tears sparkling in her eyes as she addresses her friend. “It HAS to be him.”

******

BROOME, WESTERN AUSTRALIA

He still dreams of her.

Of surfing lessons and walks along the beach; the smell of salt water hanging heavily in the air and the sand smooth and cool beneath their feet. The breakfasts enjoyed out on the deck at the place in The Kimberley; the comfortable and companionable silence as they sat by side -their arms and thighs touching- sipping at their tea and coffee. The clear, cool nights; lounging by a campfire, her tiny frame engulfed by his arms and both their bodies draped in a solo, unzipped sleeping bag. Those lazy afternoons; each taking up their own end of the couch, her feet tucked under his leg as she indulged in a book and he busied himself on the laptop resting on his thighs. And those stormy nights spent in bed; caught up in a mess of tangled sheets and naked limbs. Her head on his chest and his fingers repeatedly moving through her hair as they listened to the rain patter against the weathered and rusted tin roof.

So many memories. Shockingly vivid and clear. As if she’s still a part of his everyday life. Able to recall the sound of both her voice and laugh; the initial roll of the eyes followed by a hearty chuckle when he’d tease her about her height or that little squeal and the childish, musical giggle when he pinched her sides or slapped her ass. Her smell; that sweet and inviting mixture of milk, coconut, and honey lingered so perfectly in her hair and on her clothing. And the taste of her mouth and the touch of her hands. The remnants of strawberry gloss that transferred to his lips as her hands wandered explored his shoulders; fingernails marring the smooth, tanned skin.

It’s bittersweet. To remember those things with such intensity, yet know you’ll never experience them again.

He was awake well before the alarm. Torn from sleep by a throbbing pain in his right shoulder; taking root under the middle of the scapula and then sending poker-hot agony up to his neck and down to his fingertips. Severe arthritis the doctor had said; a souvenir left behind from the many injuries suffered during his years in the military and as an active mercenary. On the good days, it’s bearable; nothing more than a dull ache that doesn’t interfere with work or exercise and is easily combated by over-the-counter medications. But when things are bad, they’re downright horrible; limiting his range of motion and forcing off to call in sick and forcing him to turn to the much stronger and more potent prescriptions he’d been given. He tries his best to avoid such drastic measures; refusing to fall victim to his oldest and most dangerous of vices and doing whatever it takes…even suffering needlessly…to avoid slipping back towards addiction.

For an hour he’s laid in bed; flat on his back with a forearm tossed across his brow and a lengthy ‘to-do’ list weighing him down. It’s his own fault; keeping his schedule filled to the brim in hopes to avoid spending too much time inside his own head. The memories seem to surface the most when he’s idle; those quiet, inactive moments when he easily slips back to the way things were. Becoming easily obsessed with re-living their last morning together; the lazy, sleepy kisses and the slow and attentive lovemaking and that playful banter and teasing as they made breakfast together. Esme had busied herself with packing while he had prepared for the trip to Broome; a four-day excursion that enabled him and Koen to tend to the remaining renos that needed completion before move-in day.

Everything had seemed fine between them, and despite feeling under the weather, she’d been her usual self. Bubbly and chatty from the moment she opened her eyes; talking his ear off during that first coffee of the day and her wit and sarcasm as quick as ever. Her personality had always been a breath of fresh air; intoxicating and infectious and way too big to be contained by her tiny body. And shockingly out of place in their world; a lingering innocence and optimism that hadn’t yet been tarnished by the darkness and the danger.

With the reliving comes the dissecting; the obsessive need to thoroughly poke through and investigate every action, every word spoken. The search for something…anything…that would shed light on just why she’d felt the need to leave without even so as much as a warning. What was it that he said that sent her running? What had he done that forced her to make such a hasty escape? He’d stayed clean and sober exactly like he’d promised; fighting through every craving, every desperate need for relief from both the physical and mental agony he continued to endure. Ready, willing, and able to battle his demons as long as it meant she was part of his life. Accepting not only a stint in rehab, but therapy to control his anger management issues; anxious to get to the root of his trauma and learn healthier coping mechanisms.

Last but not least, the second-guessing settles in; every sentence he’d uttered, every decision he’d made before walking out the door. Nothing ever seems out of place; no harsh words exchanged, no disagreements indulged in, no doors slammed out of frustration or anger. The morning had been relaxing; they’d simply enjoyed their time together and talked about her plans for decorating their bedroom and what kind of vegetables and fruits and flowers she’d plant in her gardens. He’d teased her about her wish for a ‘she shed’; a little place all her own that she could escape to when his own schedule kept him out of the house. She’d mused about hanging white and yellow gingham curtains in every window and adorning the eavestroughs with wind chimes found at the local flea market. She’d stock the little place with craft supplies and books and liven it up with colourful pillows and Australian wildflowers. And she’d laughed when he’d called it a ‘bitch barn’; agreeing to build it for her as long as she agreed to hang up a ‘welcome sign’ that called it EXACTLY that.

He never finds a reason. Nothing even remotely horrible that could have caused her to leave. And he often thinks of how he should have done more. Electing to stay home knowing she was sick; helping her get through the stress and anxiety that such a big move and life change was causing her. He should have cancelled his plans with Koen; listened to his gut when it screamed at him to just stay behind. His instincts were never wrong; he’d made an extremely successful living by trusting in them. And the one time he didn’t…

Three hundred and sixty-five days. That’s how long he spent looking for her. Travelling to countries he knew she often frequent during her time on the job; showing her picture to strangers on the street and people in bars and restaurants and employees at hotels, train stations and airports. Calling in favours in order to track down ‘associates’ she had within the circle; meeting informants in back alleys and subway stations and abandoned car parks in hopes someone had come in recent contact with her. But he’d always find nothing but a dead end; not even a single sighting or even a whisper that she’d returned to the fold. Not even Nik -with all the resources and money at her disposal- had any luck; keeping her ear to the ground yet never hearing any chatter that Esme had reentered the game.

When that strategy hadn’t worked, he’d gone a more personal route; flying to Colorado and showing up on her parents’ doorstep and inserting himself into her brothers’ lives. No one had heard from her; not since she’d decided to stay in Australia. And they hadn’t seemed particularly concerned that she had apparently disappeared off the face of the earth; alluding to toxic relationships and troubled teenage years in which she’d rebelled and run away from home several times in order to escape. Neither her folks nor siblings saw a cause for concern; it wasn’t the first time she’d made a hasty decision and likely wouldn’t be the last. After all, hadn’t she given up her old existence for a new one with him? Maybe it had happened again; perhaps meeting someone in another faraway land that could provide her with a much better life than he ever could.

In the end, it had been Koen that had finally gotten through to him. Sympathizing with his broken heart, but reminding him that while Esme was gone, he was still very much alive. Maybe he’d never get the answers he was so desperate to find; spending the rest of his life wondering just what went wrong and where she had ended up. And whether she left on her own accord or someone had forced her into the decision, maybe it was actually for the best. Perhaps in the end, they would have spent years together before their relationship finally met its demise; a marriage disintegrating and a husband and wife relegated to merely learning how to co-parent their brood. If he was suffering that badly after only ten months, imagine the agony if she’d taken off after ten YEARS? Maybe he’d actually been spared; the universe interfering sooner rather than later.

He’d moved on. But barely. Somehow managing to stay clean and sober despite the immense hole in his heart and spirit; stepping away from mercenary work and instead throwing himself headlong into firefighting. Keeping himself busy on his days off by punishing his body in the gym and starting a business of his own; providing cheaper-than-average home renovations and handyman work for low-income families. With both body and mind preoccupied, he had very little time to dwell on the mess that was his personal life; desperately missing the woman that had quickly become the centre of his universe and grieving the loss of the future that they’d planned together. He would never get that close to someone again; finding that level of trust and comfort and acceptance surely just a one-time thing. And a small part of him had still held out hope that she’d contact him just as quickly as she’d left; letting him know her whereabouts so he could catch the first flight and bring her home.

Where she belonged.

******

“Tyler?”

He stiffens at the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand; her breath warm against his skin as she presses a kiss to his shoulder. It was a mistake bringing her here. Into the home he’d purchased with the woman; the one he’d planned to make a family with and had already devoted his entire life -and future- to. It is a closeness and an intimacy that he isn’t prepared -or ready- to give; sharing a bed and seeing another’s possessions littering different rooms. His home is his safety net; the one place where he could be alone with his thoughts and unleash his demons. He isn’t quite ‘there’ yet; sharing the ugly parts of his past and his deepest and darkest secrets. With Esme, it had come so easily; quickly opening up to her in ways he’d never experienced with another. With Delaney, he feels as if he needs to close himself off even more; learning his lesson the first time around when it comes to just handing out trust.

She’s a good woman. Quiet and kindhearted. Patient and understanding. Never forcing him too far out of his comfort zone; accepting that he isn’t outwardly affectionate or emotional and that he has skeletons in his closet that he’s not quite ready to reveal. Never delving too far into his past and both accepting and respecting his boundaries; knowing he isn’t in any position to commit to anything more serious than monogamous dating. No living together, no talk of marriage, no chatter of a family or the future. He’s quick to shut those topics down before they even get fully off the ground; making it very clear early on that he was nowhere near ready for that. And didn’t know if he ever would be.

Despite being given every opportunity to walk away and find what just what she’s looking for, she continues to stick around; holding out hope that one day he’ll change his mind and be the man that she wants, needs, AND deserves. He’s certain she’s taken last night’s events as a sign that he’s beginning to soften his stance; allowing her into his space a sure sign of vulnerability. And that’s the last thing he wants; her inserting herself too far into his life and investing way too much time and energy into something that may never happen. If marriage and children are on her radar, she’s going in the wrong direction; a wholesome and beautiful woman deserves far better than a man whose dead inside. There are many out there that would make much better partners; those who are more than willing to squeeze themselves into the perfect little mould that she’s created in her mind.

But he’s NOT it.

“Been up long?” Delaney inquires, as she slides closer to him and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“A little while.”

He isn’t in the mood for chit-chat; a notorious morning person that can barely function before that first cup of coffee. Esme had always chided him about adding three shots of espresso; calling it his ‘rocket fuel’ and laughing about how he’d be ‘hopped’ up for the entire morning and the better part of the early afternoon. It’s those moments that he both thinks about and misses the most; the quick-witted banter and the flirtatious comments and the playful teasing. And those quiet, late-night conversations while wrapped in each other’s arms and a mess of blankets; their bodies spent and saded and glistening with sweat. They’d often be up until the early morning hours; spilling both secrets and sharing confessions and laughing sleepily. That doesn’t exist with Delaney. While he enjoys her companionship and she’s intelligent and well-spoken, the level of comfort just isn’t there. And he doesn’t know if he even WANTS it to be.

“Last night was nice,” she muses, as she rests her head on his chest; blue eyes sparkling up at him. “You realize we reached a milestone, yeah? It’s the first time we ever spent the ENTIRE night together. You usually sneak out of my place before I even wake up.”

“I get up really early. To hit the gym.”

The excuse sounds lame, even to his own ears. He hates that he feels nothing; unable to get past the loss of loneliness that had crept in sometime overnight. It had been months since he’d dreamt of Esme; her voice so clear and the way she’d kissed and touched him so vivid, that he’d reached out for her in his sleep. And snapped awake when he discovered another’s body next to him; filled with nothing but frustration and disappointment upon encountering the scent of jasmine and vanilla instead of coconut and honey.

“We should go together sometime. I’ve been wanting to shape up a little bit. Tighten a few things up. Especially if we’re going to go on that cruise next month.”

He doesn’t remember agreeing to the trip. In fact, he distinctly remembers lamenting…albeit half-assed… that he wouldn’t be able to get the time off on such short notice. It all seems too serious to him; planning vacations, meeting her family, and allowing her to stay overnight. And while he enjoys the companionship and the brief escape she gives him from the misery of being alone, he isn’t quite ready to be at anyone’s beck and call.

“I want to be able to wear a really…really…really….sexy bathing suit,” she muses, peppering his jaw with kisses as her hand wanders his chest; a fingernail tracing a perfect circle around one nipple, then the other. And when she attempts to take things further, he puts a quick stop to it; laying a hand over hers and stilling her movements. The disappointment on her face is palatable; her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed as she pulls back to look at him. “What…?”

“You wanna wear something like that in front of your brother?”

It’s how they met; her older brother Josiah a member of the same department. The only fellow firefighter he’d managed to form any sort of friendship with when he’d first joined; years spent living on his own and fending for himself in even the most dangerous of situations had made his desire for companionship nearly non-existent. He’d had colleagues in the mercenary world; Nik and Yaz and fellow soldiers for hire that he could commiserate and share battle scars with. But no one had really made an impact until Esme had wandered into his life; showing up unexpectedly on his doorstep and turning his entire world upside down.

“Tyler and Esme against the world.”

He can hear her voice as clear as day. See the sparkle in her eyes and the smile curving her lips. Perched at the side of his hospital bed in Dhaka with a damp face cloth in one hand and a cup of water in the other; tending to him after a nightmare had startled him awake and caused a panic attack. Her hands had been so gentle; possessing a patience and a tenderness unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. And he can remember thinking how youthful she appeared; years younger than twenty-nine with no makeup gracing her features and her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. And she’d been wearing one of his t-shirts; her tiny frame drowning in what seemed like miles of cheap cotton.

He squeezes his eyes shut; throat and chest tight with emotion.

The fingers of Delaney’s free hand push through his hair. “You okay?”

He forces a smile. “I gotta get up. Already slept in. Won’t be able to get a workout in today.”

“You can skip one day. I hardly doubt it’ll make a difference. You’re still going to have the biggest muscles in the department. Hell, in the entire TOWN”

“I just don’t want to get lazy. Skip one day, you start skipping others.”

“Maybe you could call the station? Tell them you’ll be a bit late? This IS a special occasion after all.”

He arches a quizzical brow.

“You realize we’ve never had sex here before? Not once? In the last seven months? And we’ve never spent the entire together. Not even at my place. This is a big deal for us, Ty. This is huge.”

He cringes at the nickname. Its use brings up memories of his mother; her tragic and untimely death shortly after his ninth birthday and the monster that had been left to raise him. She’d been the first to call him that; leaving her lips with adoration as she smoothed his hair out of his eyes or when praising him on his latest test scores or his progress on the surfboard. His father had used it to mock him during the early stages of grief; throwing the nickname in his face as he mercilessly beat on his only child or locked him -for days on end- in the backyard shed as a form of punishment.

“Let’s stay in bed just a little while longer.” Her mouth finds the side of his neck; lips warm and soft as they trail kisses along his jaw. “We don’t have to take our time. If you’re THAT worried about being late for work.”

His body betrays him; eyes closing and a long, ragged sigh escaping his mouth. It feels good; the brush of smooth, soft skin against his own, the brush of her against his flesh as she slowly makes her way down his body. The sex is good; above average and enough to keep him coming back for more. She’s a beautiful woman with a spectacular body; tall and tanned and legged with short blond hair that calls attention to sculpted cheekbones and vibrant eyes. And maybe in another life there could be more; a time and a place where he wasn’t so broken and despondent and could put the effort into making a stronger and more permanent connection. It happened once before; a lust and a love that were so powerful and all-consuming that they nearly brought him to his knees.

The memories return. Of his hand around her throat and his much bigger, heavier body pinning her against the wall; defiant dark eyes staring up at him as his fingers bit into her supple flesh. Of the battle he’d been waging inside; desperately wanting to give in to the hunger and the need, yet screaming at himself to walk away and spare her the disaster he would surely bring into his life. He’d been dead inside for so long; attempting to numb both the physical and the mental agony with booze and pain meds. Years spent wishing a snippers bullet would cut him down; not brave enough to do the dirty work himself. And in that dirty, cramped hotel room Dhaka he started to feel alive again; that tiny little brunette gathering up his broken pieces and attempting to mend what he thought was beyond repair.

She made him feel. And he both hated and loved it.

Suddenly it’s her lips trailing kisses across his stomach and her hair that his fingers are sliding through. Every intimate moment they’d ever shared rushing back to him; the taste of her mouth and the smell of her skin and the way she breathed his name when his calloused hands slowly and methodically explored every inch of her.

His entire body tenses; bile rising in his throat and his stomach clenching. And he offers no apology or explanation as he hastily Delaney away from him; hurrying for the bathroom and then shutting and locking the door behind him.

******

Tyler doesn’t acknowledge her presence upon entering the kitchen; her eyes burrowing into his back as he tosses open the fridge door and rummages through the contents. He had been hopeful that he’d come downstairs and find an empty house; both annoyed by her presence and embarrassed by the way he’d reacted. She’s a good woman that means well; patient and understanding, compassionate and sweet. And he does enjoy his time with her; date nights that involve dinner and movies, humouring her when she wants to tour botanical gardens and play tourist at zoos and other popular attractions. It’s a companionship with ‘benefits’; a pleasant and beautiful partner that can help fill the loneliness in both his heart and his bed.

Even if both are fleeting.

She deserves better. In the same way Esme had. The latter he’d wanted he’d wanted to protect; his life such a godawful shitty mess that he didn’t want her getting tied up in and then having her heart -and her expectations- completely decimated. With Delaney, it’s a matter of stringing her along when she’s worthy of someone that would make her the centre of their universe; not wanting a permanent and serious commitment with her, yet not wanting to be alone at the same time. It’s needy and pathetic as fuck and he knows it; unable to completely cut the cord because she makes him feel worthy of love and adoration.

“Are you feeling a little better?” she inquires, his back still towards as he sips orange juice straight from the carton. “That was a…odd. How you reacted. In the bedroom. You’ve never done THAT before.”

“Just got a lot going on. Things I need to work through. And I’ve been putting in a lot of hours at the station and I’m taking on more clients with the reno business. Starting to wear me down a bit.”

“Which is exactly why you need a vacation. It’ll be good for you. To get away for a couple of weeks. I made some coffee.” She nods in the direction of the freshly brewed pot on the stovetop. “Didn’t add the espresso yet but…”

“I can do it.” It sounds harsher than he attended, and a sheepish, apologetic plays on his lips as he turns to face. “But thank you. I….”

His words trail off; rendered speechless and almost immobile by the smallest and most mundane of circumstances. The mug clasped tightly in Delaney’s hands brings back swift but not necessarily unwelcome memories; a shopping excursion during a trip to Sydney more than four years ago. A quick browse in a second-hand shop that had turned into a long and arduous -and highly entertaining- treasure hunt. Esme’s entire face lit up with each masterpiece she uncovered and excitedly showed him. Including an enormous and gaudy handmade coffee cup bearing a poorly crafted Hello Kitty; complete with a rainbow in the background and iconic character flipping the middle finger. It was the first time he’d ever witnessed Esme’s signature move of pure and utter contentment; that little squeal and the bounce on her heels.

Delaney frowns. “Tyler? Are you okay? What…?”

“Where the hell did you find that?”

She blinks; taken back by his snarl. “Find what? The mug? It was the only one left. The cupboard was empty so I went searching and found this one. On the top shelf. Tucked wayyyy back.”

He forces himself to move; throwing open the door of the dishwasher, snagging a clean mug, and then crossing the kitchen in three long strides. “Give me that.”

“What are you doing?” Delaney gives a startled, uncomfortable laugh as he wrenches the cup from her hands. “What’s the big deal? It’s a damn mug!”

“It’s not…” He briefly closes his eyes; taking in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “It’s not just a mug. I put it away for a reason.”

“What reason? What…?”

“You don’t need to know why I did it. Why I don’t want you using it. Just don’t, okay?” He hastily dumps the drink from one cup to another; ignoring the coffee that trickles down the sides and splatters on the tiles. “Don’t use it again.”

“Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you? It’s a mug. Some cheap thing. It can be replaced. It can be…”

“No. It can’t. I can’t get another one. I can’t get another…”

He almost says her name; biting down on his bottom lip before it can escape. He has never spoken of Esme; never offered up any personal information other than a failed marriage and the death of a child. It finds it easier to speak of those things; his grief and his guilt are no longer as profound and painful as it had been. But he can never bring himself to mention HER. Four and a half years later and it’s still too fresh. The lingering sadness and the heartache. And an anger he just can’t shake.

“You’re unhinged,” Delaney informs him. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but…”

“Just don’t touch it, okay?” Handing her the coffee, he moves towards the sink; gingerly washing and drying the Hello Kitty mug before putting it back in its resting place. It’s the only thing he has left; a cheap piece of porcelain to remind him of the last time he’d been truly happy. “And while you’re at it, don’t make yourself too comfortable here. Don’t walk around like you own the place. Or that you even live here. Last night wasn’t an open invitation to start moving your shit in.”

“Okay, you’re obviously not having a good morning. For whatever reason. I don’t know what I did that was so horrible that you think I deserve to be treated like this, but…”

He’s saved by his cell phone; vibrating within the confines of the back pocket of his jeans. And he frowns when he sees the number and name that’s plastered across the screen. “I gotta take this.”

“Right now? Right while we’re in the middle of….I don’t know…whatever the hell this is? They can leave a message. You can call them back. You can….”

“I HAVE to take it,” he insists, pausing before he steps past her. “We can talk about this later, yeah?”

“What makes you think I’ll even want to speak to you later?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I just…I can’t talk about it. Not right now.”

“Not right now as in this instant or not right as in the foreseeable future?”

“I don’t have time right now. I really have to answer this. I am, you know. Sorry.”

“You should be. You should be…”

“Later, alright? We’ll talk later.”

The promise is weak. Insincere. But he offers up a reassuring smile and presses a fleeting kiss to her temple; not looking back as he heads for the kitchen’s sliding doors and steps out onto the back deck.

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