Dark And Dangerous (7 page)

 
"What about your parents?"

 
"I don't know if he keeps in contact
with our father anymore, but I know he visited dad a few weeks before I saw Joe
last time."

 
"What about your mother?"

 
"Our mother ran away when we were young,
and we haven't heard from her since." Suddenly restless, Kayley pushed
away from the desk and stood up.

 
"Your mother left you?" His heart
bled for her, as he watched her struggle with the pain the memories caused her.
He rose, and to her surprise gathered her gently against him. Saying nothing,
he laid his cheek on her hair and breathed in her scent deeply.

 
He had caught her completely off guard. She
hadn't had time to brace herself or pull back, before he hugged her close.
Willing herself to resist the comfort he offered, she tried to keep herself stiff.
To her mortification, Kayley felt her body betray her will, as it slowly melted
against him.

 
Losing the battle completely, she felt her
eyelids grow heavy, and slide closed.

Nathan heard her quiet
sigh and felt her relax against him. Enjoying the embrace he held her for a
while longer, before pulling her back a little to look into her eyes.

 
"I'm sorry your mother left you, Kayley,
but mostly I think it's your mother's loss. She missed out on you and that is
something she can never replace." Stepping back he released her
completely. "Where does your father live?"

The pain returned, but
this time she forced it back. "Last time I heard, he was still living in
our old apartment in San Francisco."

 
"You don't speak with your father?"
Nathan asked surprised.

 
"No."

 
"What's his name?"

"Stan Hamilton,"
she said through stiff lips.

Deciding it was probably
wisest not to ask her more about her past and family at the moment, he reigned
in his curiosity.

Instead, he picked up the
phone and dialed.

 
"It's Nathan. Could you have the
helicopter ready in one hour? Thanks." He hung up and turned to switch off
the computer.

 
"Are you taking the helicopter
somewhere?" she asked through her teeth, knowing very well what he
intended.

 
"We are taking the helicopter to San
Francisco," he said calmly.

 
"I see. And what do you intend to do in
San Francisco?" Her voice was cold as ice.

 
"We are going to find your father and
ask him where his son is."

 
"Then you can go to San Francisco on
your own, because I'm not seeing my father."

 
"You don't want to find your
brother?" he asked coolly, feeling his own anger begin to stir.

 
"I want to find my brother, but I don't
think my father can help me with that. He's always been a
self
centered
alcoholic, and from what I've heard the years hasn't changed
that."

 
"Don't you think it's worth a try?"
he asked reasonably.

 
"You don't understand Nathan. You don't
know what kind of life I came from, what kind of people they are."

 
"So tell me," he urged.

 
"He didn't care about us. We never meant
anything to him, except as a means to get rid of some of his anger and
frustration. And he had a lot of that."

 
"People change, Kayley. Maybe he has,
but no matter what, if it helps you find your brother don't you think it's
worth it?"

She knew what he was
saying made sense, but she just couldn't convince her feelings of that.

 
Suddenly drained, Kayley drew her hands
through her hair. Maybe it was worth it, she thought. She had long since come
to terms with the fact that her father represented everything she detested.
Once she had hated him intensely for what he was and had done, but now she just
felt empty. Perhaps, she thought, it was time to face her past. And if it could
help her find her brother, then maybe she should give it a try.

 
"Okay," she said, feeling tired to
her bones.

Reaching out, he touched
her cheek gently and tipped up her chin. Laying his lips on hers, he kissed her
warm and comforting. He had seen her pain and the way she struggled with
herself. It hurt her, he knew, more than she let on, and it troubled him that he
was adding to it.

 
"We better get going. Do you need to do
anything before we leave?" he asked, releasing her.

 
"I only need my purse." She hurried
into her bedroom and looked searching around the room. It took her a moment
before she managed to find her purse, which she had apparently put into a
drawer the night before.

Slinging it over her
shoulder, she walked out to find Nathan waiting for her in the hallway.

 
"All set?" he asked.

 
"Yes."

Chapter Seven

 
They
arrived just as Troy was starting the engine, and hurried into the helicopter.
The propellers whipped through the air, and the metal bird rose smoothly into
the sky. To Kayley's surprise she found she still enjoyed the flight, even
though her feelings were in turmoil. In fact she discovered that watching the
landscape as it slid by in all its beauty beneath them, soothed her much in the
same way painting did.

 
It was around lunchtime when they landed in
San Francisco. Again they were picked up by Timothy in a limousine, only this
time it didn't take them on a beautiful tour of the city. Instead they drove
through streets where hookers and transvestites lined the curb, calling out
suggestions and invitations as the limo drove by.

 
Kayley sat in silence watching the familiar
streets of her childhood pass by. She could only praise her lucky stars, and
her own determination, that her fate had been different. She knew very well
that desperation and despair was what drove people to the streets, and that
most of them would spent all of their lives trying to claw their way out.

She shuddered at the
thought of how close she could have come to that lifestyle if she had stayed.

 
They pulled up in front of an old rundown
brick building. There were only a few dirty windows left in it and the rest
were covered with everything from plywood to cardboard. The door leading into
the building was missing, and as they walked inside they saw that the hallway
was littered with filth and trash.

 
Nathan spotted several old syringes poking
out of the trash.

 
"It didn't look like this when you lived
here, did it?" he asked horrified.

 
"Yes, it did." Embarrassed, she
avoided his eyes. She knew exactly what it looked like to him, and what he must
think. Even as a child Kayley had felt the shame and embarrassment, as she had
been subject to cruel remarks and teasing from other children.

 
Reminding herself that she wasn't a child
anymore didn't change anything, she discovered. It still hurt.

 
They walked up several flights of tight
stairs, with many steps either completely missing or half gone. She stopped in
front of an old beaten door, where the numbers were missing.

 
"This is it."

 
"Are you ready?" He lifted his hand
to knock and looked at her.
 

 
"Sure." Taking a deep breath she
straightened her shoulders, and waited as Nathan knocked. And waited. He tried
knocking again, this time with more force. They waited for several long
moments, before they finally heard movement behind the door. A chain rattled as
the door opened, and a bloodshot eye peaked out.

 
"What do you want?" a drunken
slurry voice asked. The smell of alcohol reeked from him.

 
"Dad, it's me, Kayley." She wasn't
surprised that he hadn't recognized her.

For a moment he just
looked at her, as if unable to even recall the name. Then his small blurry eyes
focused.

 
"Bitch," he spat out.

 
"Now, hold it." Nathan stepped
protectively in front of her. "We didn't come here to listen to any name
calling. We're here to find your son."

 
"Who are you?" he asked, watching
Nathan with malice in his eyes.

 
"I'm Nathan Sanders."

 
"Are you the
whores
boyfriend?"

Barely able to control the
rage that ripped through him, Nathan clenched his hands. "Your daughter is
not a whore, and don't ever call her that, or anything else except her name
ever again. You got that?"

 
In answer Stan spat after him. That was a big
miscalculation from his side.

Before he realized what
was happening, Nathan smashed the door open, knocking him off balance.

 
Kayley watched in shock as Nathan grabbed her
father by his tattered T-shirt, and pulled him up on his toes.

 
"It's your luck that I don't want Kayley
to see me beat up her father, because you deserve everything I would give you.
But I'll tell you this, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'm going
to forget all my good intentions and give you what you deserve. I swear
it."

Even through his drunken
mind, Stan knew Nathan was telling the truth. Slowly he nodded.

 
"Good." Releasing him, Nathan
stepped back. "Now that we've got that straight why don't you tell us
where your son
is.
"

 
"My son?" he asked, seemingly
confused.

 
"Yes," Kayley stepped forward
again, "my brother Joe."

 
"I don't know. I can't remember the last
time I saw him." Stan's eyes turned to Kayley. "I heard you some kind
of great artist?"

Kayley just nodded, unable
to speak. The look in her
fathers
eyes sent chills down her spine.

 
"You make good money? Huh?" He spat
again, but this time only at the floor.

 
"What Kayley makes is her own
business." Nathan stepped forward at the flash of temper in Stan's eyes.

 
"What she makes belongs to me. I made
her, didn't I?" He gestured wildly. "I deserve it."

 
"You don't deserve scratch of what's
Kayley's." Nathan had to struggle as his temper flared violently.

 
"I raised her, didn't I? Stan wiped a
hand over his mouth. "Did my best by her."

 
"Don't flatter yourself. What you call
your best, I call pathetic." Nathan's hands clenched dangerously. He was
on the verge of losing his slippery grip on his normally fierce self-control.

 
"What the hell do you
know.
I had to teach them some respect. The little shits deserved everything they
got. She's a whore. Just like her mother."

 
Nathan struck Stan so hard that he stumbled
back, crashing against a dresser and would have hit the ground hard if Nathan
hadn't jumped forward, with the speed of a panther, and grabbed his shirt. He
yanked Stan to his toes.

 
"I told you not to call her that
again." It took every ounce of Nathan's control not to hurt him. "I
meant it."

Stan struggled futilely
against his grip.

 
"Don't ever call her that again, or I
swear it will be the last thing you say." Nathan shoved Stan back, making
him stumble back, and grasp at the wall to steady himself. He staggered over to
a table to grab a stale beer and empty it with a few long swigs.

 
"So Joe hasn't been in touch with you
recently?" Nathan asked, his voice vibrating with control. But Stan was
too busy opening another beer to answer. "Stan," he said, trying to
get his attention.

 
But Kayley's father seemed oblivious to their
presence now, as he downed the second beer.

 
Realizing it was futile trying to talk to
him, Nathan turned back to Kayley. He could see her pain written clearly in her
eyes, and just barely prevented himself from pulling her close. This wasn't the
place for it, he thought, and instead took her arm and led her out of the
apartment, closing the door behind them.

 
They walked down to the car in silence, and
not until they were safely inside did he give in to his need to comfort her.
The moment the car door closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms and
lifted her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tight around her and felt her
tremble against him.

 
It took her completely by surprise when he
hugged her close. She had been sure he would turn away from her, just as
everyone, except her teacher, always had.

 
Relief swept through her as she trembled. She
couldn't stop the shaking that had begun the moment she had seen her father
again. And now that it was over, it seemed to be getting worse.

She bit her teeth
together, in order to keep them from chattering.

 
"
It's
okay,
Kayley. Just let it out." Nathan kissed her hair.

 
"But I ca
…
ca
…
can't seem to stop s
…
shaking," she stuttered.

 
"It's simply your body's way of
releasing stress and adrenaline. Just take it easy and let it run its
course." Pulling her closer still, he tried to warm her. She felt as cold
as an iceberg.

 
"Just breathe baby. It's going to be
okay." He held her gently, murmuring softly to her as they drove through
the city.

 
He had planned on taking her to a nice lunch
after they had seen her father, but realizing his big miscalculation after the
meeting, he had told their chauffeur to order a picnic basket from a
restaurant, and drive them to someplace uncrowded. He thought she needed peace
and he had to admit he certainly needed it after that experience.

 
He had known Kayley didn't have a good
upbringing. She had definitely tried to tell him.

But he had never expected
it to be as bad as that.

As the car stopped Kayley
stirred in his arms.

 
"It's okay, you can just relax, Kayley.
I asked Timothy to get us a picnic basket. Then we'll eat somewhere in private."

 
"Okay." She leaned her head against
his shoulder again and closed her eyes. The shaking was beginning to subside
slowly. But she discovered that that left room for her mind to begin engaging
again.

 
Too embarrassed by her own reaction, on top
of the embarrassment she had already felt, she couldn't force herself to open
her eyes. Instead she held them tightly closed, as an armor against the world.

 
"I'm sorry I fell apart like that,"
she said stiffly.

 
"You didn't fall apart, Kayley. You had
a completely normal reaction to a very stressful situation." He stroked
her hair and kissed it. He had a weight to get off his shoulders as well.
"I'm sorry I made you see your father. And I'm sorry I didn't believe you
when you said it was futile." He had regretted it the second he had seen
the pain in her eyes, and had known he could have prevented it.

Surprised at his words,
Kayley lifted her head and looked at him. "You're sorry?" she
repeated. "But I thought
—
"

 
"What did you think?"

 
"Well, I
…
I thought you
…
" Taking a deep breath she looked him
squarely in the eyes. "I thought you would blame me." And judge her,
but she left that out.

 
"Why would I blame you? You didn't want
to go, I did. In fact you did
your
very best to warn
me, but I just didn't listen."

 
"It's just that I thought you might look
at me differently if you saw what I came from."

 
"Kayley, you should really give me some
more credit. I know I've had a privileged upbringing, but that doesn't mean I'm
ignorant about the darker sides of life. Neither of my parents had an easy
childhood, although it was nothing compared to yours." He tucked her hair
behind her ear. "Your past certainly affects you, but it doesn't make you
who you are. Who you choose to be is always up to you."

 
"I didn't know your parents came from
hard backgrounds," Kayley said surprised. "They were some of the
nicest warmest people I have ever met."

 
"They both understand that what they
came from didn't make them who they are, only they do. My mother came from a
very rich home with no love or warmth, and my father came from a very poor home
with a violent father. Both of them decided they wanted a different life for
themselves, and that is what they made." He looked at her deeply. "I
would never judge you based on where or what you came from, only on who you
are. And I very much like who you are."

 
Timothy came back, started the car and slid
smoothly back into traffic.

Unsure of how to react to
Nathan's words, she looked away from his deep blue eyes.

 
That had him smiling, even as he decided it
was probably best to change the subject for now.

 
"You know, my parents really liked
you."