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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Parker looked at the amber liquid in her glass, swirling it absently, and sighed. She raised it half-way to her lips before lowering it again with another sigh. She didn’t really want a drink, she’d only poured it from force of habit. She put the damn thing down on the end table and wrapped her arms around her middle, pulling her feet off of the floor and onto the sofa with her.
Eyes as blue as a Caribbean sea stared blindly at the night through her living room window. Tears wavered indecisively before one spilled over, others following in a torrent. She wished she could tell Jarod, could explain to Sydney. Their contempt and their pain hurt her deeply, but she didn't dare try to justify herself to either of them. She didn't dare talk to anyone.
Poor Jarod, she'd always hoped he'd never find out about this. She knew how important family was to him and she'd always known that the thought of his child being destroyed before it was even born would devastate him. She couldn't take it back, though. She couldn't change anything now just to spare him. She had done----hell, she *was doing* the only thing she could for all of them. No child of theirs would be safe in this environment, ever. Not as long as the monsters in the Tower and the Triumvirate wanted to own it.
Still, the silent tears fell and Parker hugged herself tightly as the memories rose in her mind. Learning that she was pregnant, that her night with Jarod hadn't just been an unusually vivid, and pleasant, dream, had been a shock. Then hiding her pregnancy, hoping no one would know. And, finally, that awful confrontation with Lyle.
"We know about the baby, Parker." Lyle had said, his perfect face lit with malicious glee.
At Parker’s blank look of shock he’d laughed.
"You weren’t really imagining I didn’t notice your illness while we were trapped in Jarod’s shipping container, did you? And of course I checked into your doctor’s findings after you went to her for a check up. I’m your brother, I had to make sure you didn’t suffer any ill effects from your ordeal, didn’t I?"
He laughed again as Parker glared darkly at him, wondering how she could have imagined that she’d have any privacy simply because she visited a doctor unconnected with the Centre. Lyle, however, went too far when he spoke again.
"But don't worry, once *his* baby is born we'll take it off of your hands and you'll never even have to look at it again."
Suddenly Parker wasn’t angry anymore, but icily calm as a truly dreadful suspicion began to grow in her mind.
"What makes you think it's Jarod's brat?" She had asked him, a white hot rage roaring beneath her surface calm.
"I arranged the encounter between the two of you, of course." Lyle answered nonchalantly. "You didn't really think Jarod was going to be wandering around the Centre without help, did you? And to make it as far as YOUR office the one night you happened to be working late? Really, Parker, I thought you were smarter than that."
The rage broke free, making Parker see red, and Lyle came closer to having his brains violently scattered across a wall than he ever had in his life. No threat from the shadowy underworld figures he’d dealt with before coming full time to the Centre, or the drug cartels, or even the Japanese Mafia that had taken his thumb, could compare to Parker’s need to wreak havoc on the smug face standing before her. It was an indication of her monumental control that her hand only twitched restlessly, rather than grabbing the 9mm nestled against her back and pulling the trigger, repeatedly.
"I see." She managed through tight lips. Did they somehow ensure her cooperation? Is that why the whole affair had seemed so much like a dream?
"Not to worry, though, Sis. I'll make sure you have the best of care. In fact, I'd like you to take your suite of rooms in the Tower for the duration."
"Not a chance, Psycho Boy." She had snarled in the low, husky voice that presaged her worst displays of anger. She’d felt a savage spurt of satisfaction as Lyle’s face darkened with impotent fury at her petty name-calling.
"Perhaps you’ll have no choice." He’d suggested menacingly.
"Don’t even go there, Lyle!" She had replied, just as menacingly. "You still don’t have that kind of authority and you REALLY don’t want to get on my bad side." Her thoughts returned longingly to the her gun and Lyle’s gray matter decorating the wall behind him.
"Fine!" He’d backed down as her hard blue eyes bored into his. "I’ll take it up with the Tower. Be in my office at 9am tomorrow, got it?"
"Lyle, why don’t you----" What Parker suggested then was anatomically impossible, but Lyle understood the underlying message. His face was as sulky as a two-year-old being sent to its room for a nap as she moved past him, her every sense alert as she passed by him, and sauntered out of the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
She blessed the instinct that had kept her from showing her fury and the sick feeling of violation that the conversation had left her. She knew if Lyle had picked up the slightest inkling of what she intended to do next he would have called in a sweeper team and had her detained. *He* wanted the baby, as would the Triumverate, but they would never get their hands on her child. Lyle had underestimated her and he would pay for his arrogance.
The next morning she’d called in sick, explaining to her brother with acid satisfaction that she’d had an abortion the night before. She had spent that day assembling the proof of her successful abortion, and obtaining a suitable specimen of fetal tissue to turn over to the Centre. She knew that Lyle had demanded it because they wanted to try to clone the baby. She wondered how long it would take them to realize that she’d given them tissue from an infant that had spontaneously miscarried because of severe genetic defects. They’d never get a viable child from the what she’d provided!
Emily’s capture had only complicated matters, even though it gave her the perfect revenge against Lyle. Death was too quick and easy for him, she decided bitterly, far better for him to live a long life in hell. And she was just the person to ensure that his life remained a living hell. He had no hope of outthinking Jarod and none of the others on his team were going to put forth any real effort in capturing her nemesis. Taking away his specimen and his pet project had given her the most joy she’d felt in weeks.
The tears fell faster, and she began to rock back and forth with the pain as she wondered again how the two men she trusted most in the world could believe such a horrible thing of her. Were they starting to accept her cold mask as the real her? Did she really seem so heartless? Was that Emily would see when she finally met her and spoke to her? Worst of all, were they right? Had she become that angry and bitter?
Damn them both! She decided, anger rising to her rescue again. Let them suffer! Let them hurt, just like they’d hurt her. She wouldn’t even tell Jarod about Emily if he called her. Wouldn’t give him a clue that she was going to get Emily out of this place if it killed her! Sydney could give her all of the wounded and reproachful looks in his repertoire, she wouldn’t change her stance in the slightest. So they didn’t want to trust her? Trust her judgment? Fine, she’d make sure they lived with that choice----both of them.
Tomorrow, Parker told herself, trying to regain control. Tomorrow I will meet the girl, and I pray that she’s a smart as Jarod. I’ll have to clue her in subtly, that I’m not the enemy. If she doesn’t understand me, I don’t know what I’ll do. What if she accepts me at face value as Sydney and Jarod have? Damn, what does it matter? I’ll make it work, somehow, she promised herself----for all of our sakes.
Eyes as blue as a Caribbean sea stared blindly at the night through her living room window. Tears wavered indecisively before one spilled over, others following in a torrent. She wished she could tell Jarod, could explain to Sydney. Their contempt and their pain hurt her deeply, but she didn't dare try to justify herself to either of them. She didn't dare talk to anyone.
Poor Jarod, she'd always hoped he'd never find out about this. She knew how important family was to him and she'd always known that the thought of his child being destroyed before it was even born would devastate him. She couldn't take it back, though. She couldn't change anything now just to spare him. She had done----hell, she *was doing* the only thing she could for all of them. No child of theirs would be safe in this environment, ever. Not as long as the monsters in the Tower and the Triumvirate wanted to own it.
Still, the silent tears fell and Parker hugged herself tightly as the memories rose in her mind. Learning that she was pregnant, that her night with Jarod hadn't just been an unusually vivid, and pleasant, dream, had been a shock. Then hiding her pregnancy, hoping no one would know. And, finally, that awful confrontation with Lyle.
"We know about the baby, Parker." Lyle had said, his perfect face lit with malicious glee.
At Parker’s blank look of shock he’d laughed.
"You weren’t really imagining I didn’t notice your illness while we were trapped in Jarod’s shipping container, did you? And of course I checked into your doctor’s findings after you went to her for a check up. I’m your brother, I had to make sure you didn’t suffer any ill effects from your ordeal, didn’t I?"
He laughed again as Parker glared darkly at him, wondering how she could have imagined that she’d have any privacy simply because she visited a doctor unconnected with the Centre. Lyle, however, went too far when he spoke again.
"But don't worry, once *his* baby is born we'll take it off of your hands and you'll never even have to look at it again."
Suddenly Parker wasn’t angry anymore, but icily calm as a truly dreadful suspicion began to grow in her mind.
"What makes you think it's Jarod's brat?" She had asked him, a white hot rage roaring beneath her surface calm.
"I arranged the encounter between the two of you, of course." Lyle answered nonchalantly. "You didn't really think Jarod was going to be wandering around the Centre without help, did you? And to make it as far as YOUR office the one night you happened to be working late? Really, Parker, I thought you were smarter than that."
The rage broke free, making Parker see red, and Lyle came closer to having his brains violently scattered across a wall than he ever had in his life. No threat from the shadowy underworld figures he’d dealt with before coming full time to the Centre, or the drug cartels, or even the Japanese Mafia that had taken his thumb, could compare to Parker’s need to wreak havoc on the smug face standing before her. It was an indication of her monumental control that her hand only twitched restlessly, rather than grabbing the 9mm nestled against her back and pulling the trigger, repeatedly.
"I see." She managed through tight lips. Did they somehow ensure her cooperation? Is that why the whole affair had seemed so much like a dream?
"Not to worry, though, Sis. I'll make sure you have the best of care. In fact, I'd like you to take your suite of rooms in the Tower for the duration."
"Not a chance, Psycho Boy." She had snarled in the low, husky voice that presaged her worst displays of anger. She’d felt a savage spurt of satisfaction as Lyle’s face darkened with impotent fury at her petty name-calling.
"Perhaps you’ll have no choice." He’d suggested menacingly.
"Don’t even go there, Lyle!" She had replied, just as menacingly. "You still don’t have that kind of authority and you REALLY don’t want to get on my bad side." Her thoughts returned longingly to the her gun and Lyle’s gray matter decorating the wall behind him.
"Fine!" He’d backed down as her hard blue eyes bored into his. "I’ll take it up with the Tower. Be in my office at 9am tomorrow, got it?"
"Lyle, why don’t you----" What Parker suggested then was anatomically impossible, but Lyle understood the underlying message. His face was as sulky as a two-year-old being sent to its room for a nap as she moved past him, her every sense alert as she passed by him, and sauntered out of the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
She blessed the instinct that had kept her from showing her fury and the sick feeling of violation that the conversation had left her. She knew if Lyle had picked up the slightest inkling of what she intended to do next he would have called in a sweeper team and had her detained. *He* wanted the baby, as would the Triumverate, but they would never get their hands on her child. Lyle had underestimated her and he would pay for his arrogance.
The next morning she’d called in sick, explaining to her brother with acid satisfaction that she’d had an abortion the night before. She had spent that day assembling the proof of her successful abortion, and obtaining a suitable specimen of fetal tissue to turn over to the Centre. She knew that Lyle had demanded it because they wanted to try to clone the baby. She wondered how long it would take them to realize that she’d given them tissue from an infant that had spontaneously miscarried because of severe genetic defects. They’d never get a viable child from the what she’d provided!
Emily’s capture had only complicated matters, even though it gave her the perfect revenge against Lyle. Death was too quick and easy for him, she decided bitterly, far better for him to live a long life in hell. And she was just the person to ensure that his life remained a living hell. He had no hope of outthinking Jarod and none of the others on his team were going to put forth any real effort in capturing her nemesis. Taking away his specimen and his pet project had given her the most joy she’d felt in weeks.
The tears fell faster, and she began to rock back and forth with the pain as she wondered again how the two men she trusted most in the world could believe such a horrible thing of her. Were they starting to accept her cold mask as the real her? Did she really seem so heartless? Was that Emily would see when she finally met her and spoke to her? Worst of all, were they right? Had she become that angry and bitter?
Damn them both! She decided, anger rising to her rescue again. Let them suffer! Let them hurt, just like they’d hurt her. She wouldn’t even tell Jarod about Emily if he called her. Wouldn’t give him a clue that she was going to get Emily out of this place if it killed her! Sydney could give her all of the wounded and reproachful looks in his repertoire, she wouldn’t change her stance in the slightest. So they didn’t want to trust her? Trust her judgment? Fine, she’d make sure they lived with that choice----both of them.
Tomorrow, Parker told herself, trying to regain control. Tomorrow I will meet the girl, and I pray that she’s a smart as Jarod. I’ll have to clue her in subtly, that I’m not the enemy. If she doesn’t understand me, I don’t know what I’ll do. What if she accepts me at face value as Sydney and Jarod have? Damn, what does it matter? I’ll make it work, somehow, she promised herself----for all of our sakes.
