Chapter Eleven
Words
Confusion and a lingering spark tingled in my mind and on my skin as my body roared for more of his touch. A deeper intensity of a feeling I hadn't ever had. I shivered at the memory and the words 'Hyne, you're a gorgeous woman' forcing Daddy's voice to be silent. For the first time I couldn't even feel it lurking.
'You deserve better.'
Better. Better than what? All I want is a different ending to the nightmare! Why is that not 'better' enough? I felt again Marshal's touch on my skin. The caress of his lips against my eye--I groaned and balled my hands into fists. Your touch is better. And I needed more.
'I'd be doing it for the wrong reason.'
But what was the right reason? My body had always been taken before, and it never felt right. Marshal's touch hadn't been 'taking'. Everything about it felt as if he gave me something. But had it felt right? Again, I didn't know. That it felt different should have been enough of a 'right'. But 'I'd be doing it for the wrong reason.'
What's the right reason? And the question rang in my head with his touch and his warmth against me--I fisted my hair and tucked my knees to my chin. I had to ask. I had to know and understand. My body and the memory of the difference wouldn't let me not ask. Especially when he had touched me like he wanted me.
'Hyne, you're a gorgeous woman.'
I lifted my head and stared at the door. Why did you stop? I wanted it. You wanted it. 'I'd be doing it for the wrong reason.' What was the 'wrong reason' if he wanted it? The question was going to drive me mad.
'Ana, I'm sorry.
He had said that twice. Before and after his touch had been burned onto my body. I stood and strode to the door. My hand hesitated on the doorknob as my insides tightened and twisted, feeding the throb in my brain and the burning. I clenched my jaw and opened the door--halting just outside as I blinked in mild surprise. Marshal looked up from where he sat on the floor across from the bathroom door. The pained expression still there. Seeing him heightened the twisting within and flared the memories to crystal clarity as my brain continued to pound with questions.
He slowly stood and then stuffed his hands in the pockets of his charcoal slacks. My hand tightened on the doorknob before I released it. Marshal watched me. He always watched me--I pressed my lips together and forced my steps toward him.
Marshal pulled his hands from his pockets and stretched them toward me. "Ahndra. . . ."
I stepped close and wrapped him in an embrace as I said "I'm sorry, Blake," loud enough for our watchers to hear. To Marshal I whispered "I don't understand."
His arms surrounded me and he pressed his lips against my neck. "I know."
I shivered with the tickle of his breath on my skin, and it felt as if my eyes rolled back into my head. My body shifted closer to his radiating warmth and the roar returned, drowning everything in my memory.
"Ahndra." Marshal pushed back and enfolded my upper arms in his hands. "Let's go walk around a bit before dinner. We need to talk about this."
I could feel my body resisting his hold on my arms, so consumed with its need to have more of the touch. I needed to understand why he wouldn't finish the nightmare. How could I do my job if I didn't understand why Marshal wouldn't give what my father had taken?
"All right."
Marshal released my arms and enfolded my hand with his. Then he led me out of the room and down the stairs to the reception desk. He smiled at the clerk. "We have a reservation in a half-hour for dinner, but we're going to walk around a bit. Can you push it back an hour or so?"
The middle-aged clerk with the peppered hair offered a practiced smile. "Of course, Mr. Rankin. Have a nice walk."
"Thanks. Oh." Marshal leaned an arm and elbow against the desk. "Any recommendations on where we can go to get a little. . ." Marshal winked. "Privacy?"
The clerk's smile widened, and I felt a muted respect for his ability to charm.
The clerk leaned slightly forward and passed a stealthy look over his shoulder. "About 50 feet behind the City Hall is an old tree-fort. I've heard it's quite the adventure."
Marshal's smile widened. "Tree fort? Wow." He clucked the side of his mouth with another wink to the clerk and a "Thanks." Then he adjusted his hold on my hand and led me from the inn.
The sun began to set, leaving the air cooler than earlier. There teased a slight breeze as well. Marshal gave my hand a slight squeeze, drawing my attention. I met his gaze, questioning why I was no longer angry. He had rejected a never before made advance.
He motioned to the left with his head. "This way."
I followed beside him, trying to organize the questions I had to ask while fighting through the brighter memories of what a touch should mean. There were so many things I didn't understand. How could I ask? It showed an ignorance in how life should be. Did I want to confess that ignorance?
My skin cra--No. My skin tingled when Marshal glanced my way.
"You've every right to be pissed, Ahndra."
I continued looking ahead as I said "I'm not" even though I didn't understand why. I always reacted with rage and violence. Marshal should be nearly dead with the 'no' he voiced more than once. Damn right I should be pissed! But I wasn't. I was confused, and my mind roared with questions.
Marshal released a breath, which drew my attention. He met my gaze. "I blew it, Ahndra. I lost control, and I'm sorry."
I looked away. "No. You didn't."
He regarded my profile before squinting ahead. "And why would you say that?"
Words rose up like a wave, and I didn't know how to control them. I balled my hands into fists, and Marshal's hand returned a gentle pressure.
"Take your time," he said softly.
Softly. Tenderly. Caressing. Touching--My stomach lurched and my footing stumbled as I came to a stop. My brain felt as if it would explode, and I didn't understand why. Marshal faced me, his eyes still watching and studying everything as his hold didn't release my hand. Steadying. Waiting.
I met his gaze, fighting back the words as I carefully voiced "You had control." I saw it in his eyes and felt it in the soft touch against my skin. How could something like that not take control? My father never touched me like that.
"Ahndra, if I had control, I wouldn't have kissed you."
My insides shuddered with a wave of cold as I looked away. The memory began to warp. 'I wouldn't have kissed you.' I felt as if my entire insides cringed.
“That didn’t come out right.” He released a quick breath. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you like that, do you?"
I looked over at him sharply. "What."
Marshal released another breath, then he motioned again to the tree-fort. "Come on. Let's continue this up there."
"Why?" The conversation we needed to have wouldn't blow our cover. If anything, it would sound normal.
"Because I don't want to humiliate you. Come on."
He didn't accept argument, which I strangely didn't want to voice, and tugged me forward to the ladder built against the trunk of the ancient tree.
He motioned with his hand. "Ladies first."
And that had been the first statement that caught my intrigue about him. Said much the same as in his office. Proving the respect he voiced twice after and acted upon more times than that.
Marshal didn't look away, and I watched as the expression in his now-charcoal eyes changed. "Ana, Hyne, stop looking at me like that." This time he lowered his gaze and motioned again up to the tree. "Just climb the ladder."
I arched an eyebrow at the gruff tone and turned to do as requested. He hadn't sounded angry, and his expression definitely did not hint at annoyance or irritation. Hm. I pulled myself up into the one room tree-fort and stepped away from the entry hole to allow Marshal room. My eyebrow arched again when I noted the 'lush' comfort. A tattered but functional rug; a collection of blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows stacked in the corner; a shelf holding canned goods and camp-out cooking supplies, as well as candles
and flashlights with the appropriate power supplies nearby. This didn't seem to be a simple tree-fort by any means.
Marshal heaved himself up and then moved to stand a bit behind me as he also noted our surroundings. "Wow," he said. He pulled his handheld from his slacks' back pocket. "I'd say this is a pretty popular place. No chairs, though. Bummer. We'll have to have our heart-to-heart on the floor."
As Marshal continued the scan, I stepped forward to retrieve two blankets. I folded one in quarters, set it on the floor, and then proceeded to do the same for the next one. When the hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end at the exact moment my skin tingled, I knew Marshal had come to stand behind me again. I straightened and turned to meet his gaze. But he kept his gaze on the floor and the newly folded/placed blankets, hands on hips.
"No watchers or listeners, thank Hyne. I've got it set up to track for any long-distance listeners. It will warn us if we're targeted with a mic."
"Mar--"
Marshal lifted a hand. "Give me a sec." He glanced my direction and then motioned to one of the folded blankets. "Please."
I regarded him a moment, confusion and curiosity heightening as I sat on the folded blanket while continuing to watch him. 'You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you like that, do you?' 'Ana, Hyne, stop looking at me like that.' I lowered my gaze to the floor as I listened to the voices again. 'You look good in blue.' 'I don't think this camera has taken one bad picture of you.' 'Hyne, you're a beautiful woman.' 'The white of your eye's cool.'
There sounded a shuffle and a soft 'squinch' as he sat cross-legged onto the folded blanket across from me. I looked up to watch Marshal's face, but he still kept his eyes from meeting mine. He scrubbed at the back of his neck and likely muttered "Damn it, Marshal." Then he released a quick breath and threw his hands up in the air. "Hell, I don't know how to do it." He met my surprised gaze. "Ahndra, I, uh--When you and. . . ." He rolled his eyes and then scrubbed at his neck with a whispered "Shit" before meeting my eyes again. "I didn't want to be paired with you for this mission because--" Marshal clicked his mouth shut and sighed. "They all sound so damned idiotic." He slouched and pulled at the fake laces of his leather loafers. "Maybe this is why I'm still single."
I watched him, something pulling at me to get more. I looked down, but I could feel his occasional glances.
"You really have no idea, do you?"
Same question. Same confusion. I lifted my eyes to meet his. "About what?"
Marshal continued to study my face, head slightly tilted to one side as he did so. "Huh," he said, and it was like he didn't understand my ignorance. "Okay." He straightened and rubbed his hands together. "I guess we start from day one then."
I arched an eyebrow. "Day one?"
"Oh. Figure of speech I use. Square one. From the top. Whatever." Marshal rested his arms on his knees and slightly cleared his throat. "Right. Um, sure." He took in a deep breath and released it slowly before meeting my gaze. "This will probably embarrass the hell out of me more than you, but what the hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Marshal scooted his blanket a little closer, and I had to keep from leaning closer. He looked up to meet my eyes. "Ahndra, I've been attracted to you since we first met."
I blinked, and this time I leaned back. "Why?"
"Because you're a beautiful woman."
My stomach plummeted. "What," I whispered.
Marshal examined all my reactions with that intense scrutiny I had grown so accustomed to. "I said you're beautiful."
I looked down, eyes still wide from shock and something else.
Marshal continued to watch me. "I've heard a few things about you from people at Balamb and Galbadia Gardens. Read some reports in your file. Talked to Sally about different projects you've been put in charge of. It really stuck in my hat. I haven't met many women interrogators, or investigators for that matter, and you, well, you're damn good at your job. Your instinct about things is spot on. That grabbed my attention, too. Made me want to get to know you better. Only thing was, I didn't know how. I had my job at Galbadia and you're Seifer's right-hand. You didn't have any reason to come over to Galbadia Garden to hang out. Vice-versa. Then this uproar with Deling and Trabia Gardens came up and dropped the opportunity in my lap to work hand-in-hand with you. Not only did I get the chance for an adventure--damn Quistis for getting the undercover job first--but I'd get the opportunity to get together with you."
Marshal lowered his gaze to the floor as he picked at the tattered rug. He occasionally glanced my direction, but I continued to stare at the floor. Numb, yet not.
"I could have fried my own ass when I went head-to-head against you at Balamb. But, man, what a rush! I never met a woman who pushed back." Glance. "I have a tendency of being a hard-nosed asshole. Like Seifer. Sally doesn't seem to mind so much, but it's always been the thorn in my side trying to find a woman who'll actually look twice my direction."
Marshal scrubbed at his scalp of black hair and cleared his throat. Then he released a slow breath and fully focused on my down-turned face. "I don't know what else to say," he confessed. "The more time I spend with you, the more I'm attracted to you. That's why I lost it in the bathroom. You sounded so. . . desperate."
I balled my hands into fists. "I was," I whispered.
"I know, and that was why I shouldn't have kissed you like that. You weren't--you didn't really want me to. You just wanted something else to remember. I couldn't do that to you. Like I said before, you deserve better than that."
I finally lifted my gaze, tightening my fists. "You have no idea what I deserve." My voice was low and calm.
Marshal regarded my face as he processed the response. "Yeah I do," he countered slowly. "You deserve to be free from the nightmare that doesn't let you sleep. You deserve to be touched by a man without a cringe or an instant reaction of defense."
Something within roared with the need and the want, but I fought it back until my jaw hurt. "Then give that."
Marshal balled one hand into a fist as he held my gaze. "Ahndra." He looked down and clenched his jaw. "Shit," he muttered. He breathed deeply several times before returning his focus back to my face. "Ana, I can't--No, I won't touch you like that just to erase a memory. That is where you deserve more."
I leaned closer. "But you want me." And I saw that truth even clearer when Marshal paled. My hands lashed out to grab his shirt and the warmth heightened the roar. "Marshal," I hissed as I shook him. "Please."
Marshal held my gaze, his silver eyes a storm of desires which flared with such a different passion than my father. It didn’t evoke the same terror. Finally, he released a slow breath and pulled my hands from his shirt. "Ana," he said gruffly, "I can't. I'm not going to take advantage of you."
Desperation grabbed me the same moment I wrenched my hands from his hold and again took hold of his shirt. "I don't care! Your touch burned his away. Your voice overpowers his. Take what he took!" I shook him, trying to make him understand. Begging. "Overpower the memory of the taking!"
He shook his head. "No. I won't be like him."
I blinked and sat back. "What?"
Marshal reached out to brush and hold the hair from my scarred eye as he held my gaze. "Do you really want me to be like the man who did this?"
I blinked and very slightly shook my head.
He cupped my cheek with his hand then, the thumb a whispered caress against my skin. My entire body shivered as I held his silver gaze. He smiled and leaned close. I closed my eyes, expecting the kiss, but his lips brushed the scarring of my eye. Then his breath tickled my face as he released a slow breath.
When Marshal pulled back, he scrubbed both hands across his scalp before again meeting my gaze. "I want you. You're right. But I won't take what you don't want to give me. It's going to mean something. To both of us."
I stared at him in silence, both within and without.