Tellings of the Time: Complete series

11. 10

The African tribal statue in Robin’s office is intriguing me again. She’s once again waiting for me to start talking and I’ve already wasted five minutes by just being silent.

So here goes nothing.

“Another girl was killed. We don’t know who she is yet, and we’re not getting any closer to the killer. Remy forgave me, but he’s still furious, and we’re seeing each other again, but things have changed between us. Things between Chester and me are good. I mean, I think we’re together. Then I went on an accidental date with Beckett, the FBI agent who arrested Remy. And there was a spark there. But there can’t be a spark there because I’m with Chester and Remy… And they’re together too I think. They’re spending a lot of time together, and deep down it bothers me that Remy spends more time with Chester than with me. Then again, I do kind of deserve that after the way I betrayed him. I’m lucky to have another chance at being with him at all, I’ll take it any he’s willing to give me. It’s not like I haven’t got enough on my plate already. I’m working on bringing in a serial killer, while I should be saving kids. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, Robin. Everything is going to shit and I don’t know where to start to get everything back on track again.”

See, once the words start coming out, the word vomit starts. I think I just blurted out enough of my issues to fill a few sessions. Robin has scribbled down some things on her notepad, and I wonder if it’s a summary so she can keep up with affairs.

“What I’m hearing you say is that you’re panicking because you feel out of control,” she says with a kindness in her voice, looking over her half-moon shaped glasses.

“Is that what I said?” I ask genuinely confused. Because that’s absolutely not what I got from what I’m saying.

Robin nods. “When you lost your parents, your whole life was turned upside down. Everything you knew changed. Things that had always been there, without you questioning it, suddenly weren’t there anymore. Things you thought were the truth, your truth, were changed. Your vision on what’s good and bad changed.”

I cock my head, because I don’t see what this has to do with the issues I’m experiencing right now.

“You lost your parents when you were twelve. The part of the brain that is in control over what your norms are, your deep-seated beliefs about right and wrong, starts developing around the age of thirteen. So it was a very crucial age for you.”

She sits back in her chair, falling silent for a moment. She looks like she’s thinking, and I just keep my mouth shut and let her.

“The things we believe with all our heart, the way we see the world, the way our truths look to us, we call it a paradigm. It’s beliefs that take a lot of time and effort to change. But it can be changed very suddenly, a paradigm shock, by something as drastic and sudden as losing your parents. That’s what happened to you. You went from being a carefree young woman, who didn’t see the evil in this world, to a young woman who had lost everything. And what you did, is take back control. You held on to it so tightly, that became your new paradigm. Deep down you believe that if you keep everything under control, a thing so bad as your parents dying won’t happen to you again.”

I open my mouth to tell her that’s not how it is, but she holds up one finger to make me keep quiet and listen to her.

“Now, in all the instances you just told me about, you feel like you are losing control. Being in control isn’t a bad habit. I bet it’s what makes you so good at your job. But right now? In your personal life? It’s causing you issues instead of helping you. You can’t control these young women being taken. You can’t control that this killer isn’t apprehended yet. And you have no control over what Remy feels. The situation with Chester? It’s about releasing the control you’ve had over your relationship with him and allowing it to change into something else. An accidental date? Well, beside the fact that I want to hear everything about it, it sounds like you had no control over it. And the bottom line is that you can be as in control as you can be, but sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants.”

I let myself fall back in my chair, trying to let sink in what she just said. Because it kind of makes sense, even if I’ve never thought about it that way.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay is all you have to say about it?” She looks taken aback by my answer.

“Well, you make a compelling point.”

We sit in silence for a few heartbeats, looking in each other’s eyes.

“So how do I fix this? This feeling of not being in control?”

“You don’t,” she says with a smirk.

“That’s not an option. I can’t keep going like I’m going.”

“That’s what you have me for,” she replies, acting like the mother figure I somehow missed. “You learn to accept that you can’t control everything. And yeah, I get that you will probably freak out about this. Being in control is part of your character. It has always been that way to some extent, but it was magnified by the lack of control you felt when your parents died. So we work on acceptance.”

I sigh. That sounds like something I don’t want to do. That sounds like something I can’t control. And just that thought makes me realize how incredibly right she is.

“Let’s start with the love life, because I think I can maybe get you some feeling of control back in that department.”

I raise my eyebrow, because I’m very curious as to how she’s going to make sense of whatever it is I’ve got going on right now. She sighs, which is odd for her. Then she lays down her notepad and pen, takes off her glasses and stands up before she lets herself fall down next to me on the couch.

Gone is the professional psychologist. She’s slouching beside me, our arms touching. The change of routine is secretly freaking me out, only further proofing everything she just told me.

“So, this is me talking to you as Robin, not as a psychologist,” she says without making eye contact. She wrinkles her nose for some reason. “This couch is really uncomfortable,” she states, observing the leather couch.

I laugh. “Yeah. I reckon that if you sit on it while wearing a dress your legs would stick to the leather when it’s hot.”

“Yeah. I’m going to get another couch. Screw aesthetics, it needs to be comfortable.”

Now that we’re apparently not being client and therapist, I pull in my knees, putting my shoes on the edge of the couch and I hug my legs.

“Do you know the origins of that ornament you keep staring at?”

Feeling caught, I shake my head, because I don’t and I’m a little excited that I’m finally going to figure out what it means.

“It’s a hand-carved wooden statue from Gabon. It symbolizes love. Me and my husbands went to Gabon to get married, and went on a trip through Gabon after that. We went to a local tribe where polyamory is the norm instead of being frowned upon, and we wanted to see the dynamics of those who live there. The village medicine man made the statue for us, making sure our love would always stay healthy.”

Am I hearing this saying right? Does she have multiple husbands? Is she in a polyamorous marriage? Where is she going with this story? Who is this woman? She’s always dressed immaculately, a proper professional woman. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cleavage or even a hair out of place, and now she’s telling me she’s got multiple husbands?

She’s observing me with a knowing smile.

“I met John in high school. We were very much in love, still are. But we got married at a very young age. When I was in my twenties, I met a coworker, and I felt things for him that I’d only felt for John before. John and I were each other”s firsts and only in everything. And I found that I was curious how it would be with another man. So I gathered all my courage, and I told John. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but he was glad I was honest about it.”

She kicks off her pumps and folds her legs beneath her, stretching her pencil skirt to the max.

“We came to an agreement that I could proposition Felix, as long as John would not be shut out and we’d be open about everything. So I did, and I told Felix about our arrangement, and he was intrigued. He wasn’t too thrilled to get together with a married woman, even if he was attracted to me and John was on board with it. So his one condition was that John would be there.”

She stares at the tribal statue and seems to be thinking for a while before she continues.

“So that’s how it was. We found a way to be comfortable around each other and it grew into something more. Until Daniel came along. Our pool boy. It doesn’t get any more cliché than this. But we had an attraction that couldn’t be denied. Again, I told John and Felix about it. John was okay with it, he had been there before and he had seen what joy having more people to love could bring. Felix wasn’t too happy about it, but in the end he was willing to try and see what would happen.”

I smile, resting my chin on my knees. “That sounds like Remy. He believes in people walking together through life, and that there are parts of life where you don’t walk alone, but more people walk together on the same path.”

She pats my hand. “Remy would get along with John just fine. He really believes in the saying ‘the more the merrier’.”

She’s breaking the professional attitude she’s maintained all those years, and I’m trying to wrap my mind around why that is. So I stare at her, but I’m not suddenly having any epiphanies. Maybe I’m less good at reading people than Beckett thinks I am.

“Why tell me something so personal all of the sudden?”

“Because I need you to at least believe you’re somewhat in control of what’s happening in your love life. And this was the only way I could think of.”

That actually makes sense.

“And next time everything will go back to normal?”

“As if this never happened,” she says while she gives me a half smile, getting off the couch and putting her glasses back on.

“All the other stuff?” I ask her.

“You let it be, Abby. You do what you do. You go to work, you do your best, you work out, you cook, you sleep, you have fun and laugh. You live. And somewhere along the way, you’ll find that letting go of control will get easier. But don’t let this situation take your life from you.”

We just stare at each other for a moment. Then I nod, surrendering myself to the uncertainty that is my life.

Maisy is making me another appointment when Chester walks out of Ryan’s office. The lack of yelling is freaking me out. I’ve always believed that they had a kind of shouting therapy and I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing that the shouting seems to have disappeared.

Once he finds me, he gives me a smile that make me feel hot. Maisy finishes putting the appointment in her computer when Chester reaches me. He lays his hand on my lower back and gives my shoulder a kiss. The hardness of his thumb ring is pressing in my back, and the feeling of it soothes me. I find myself grinning like a mad man and I know it’s all because of him. He’s making me feel this way.

“Another appointment?” Maisy asks when she sees Chester. Her eyes flit to where our bodies are touching and a slight smile appears on her face. She doesn’t comment on it though.

“Yeah, can we do the same time as Abs appointment, please?”

Maisy’s eyes widen before she looks at her computer and starts clicking. “Sure. I’ll put you down for the same time and I’ll text you the details.”

“Thanks,” Chester says while turning around and starts heading to the exit.

“Whatever it is you’re doing to him, sweetie, keep doing it. I’ve never seen him this polite,” Maisy whispers to me before I follow my friend to head home. I chuckle and I give her a wink.

Once I reach the elevator, it reaches the floor we’re on and we’re able to step in. Chester leans against the wall on the far side of the elevator, and I step in front of him, giving him a peck on his cheek. When I try to turn away, he wraps his arms around me and keeps me right where I am.

“Good session?” I ask him.

“I guess. Nothing out of the ordinary. You?”

I rake my teeth over my bottom lip before I answer. “It was… enlightening.”

The elevator reaches the basement and we get out to go to my pick-up truck.

“What’d you mean by enlightening?”

“Well, turns out I’m a control freak and Robin has three husbands.”

That manages to make Chester skip a step. “Three husbands?”

“Yeah, they got married in Gabon. They’re all very happy about it.”

“And this was enlightening?”

I throw him the keys of my car and make my way to the passenger”s side of the car. “I never really thought about what’s going on between Remy, you and me to be something that could last. I haven’t done the serious relationship thing before this. That’s what we’re doing I guess, but just not in any regular sort of way. And this kind of puts things in perspective I guess.”

He is quiet for a while, which is unusual in itself. Then he turns on the ignition and just starts driving. “It does open up possibilities,” he finally says.

I grab my phone to put on some music while we drive and let the conversation die down. We seem to be on the same page when it comes to this relationship, but it still feels awkward to talk about. Things with Remy haven’t gone back to the way it was yet and for some reason I feel selfish for wanting more than one guy to be with. I know it’s not rational, because Chester and Remy are together as well and I don’t mind that one bit, but when it comes to myself it’s different.

While I’m selecting a Metallica playlist a message from Beckett comes in.

Beckett: Got some news, can I come over?

My heart sinks. I don’t want any news. I’m sick and tired of getting news. Can’t this just all be over? Fuck, I need some fun. And just as quickly as I have that thought, a plan forms in my mind.

Me: We’re currently driving back home. Is there a possibility you can chase us before you tell us the news?

Beckett: I guess. Where are you?

Me: I’ll send you our current location. We’re driving to the Burnside Bridge from downtown to our house.

Beckett: Fine. I’ll give it a go. Will let your phone ring once if I can catch up.

I could kiss the man just for not asking questions and going along with me.

For just a moment I feel giddy. All my nerves are gone and all I can think about is how epic this is going to be. When Chester is drumming along to ‘One’ on the steering wheel with his thumbs, I feel my phone vibrate once letting me know Beckett has found us and is following us. Checking the rearview mirrors, I find a black SUV that stays about three cars behind us. Exactly following the book. Forcing myself to hide a smile, I get ready to start fucking with Chester.

“Ches,” I say tentatively, “I think someone is following us.”

“What?” he says, his eyes immediately darting to the mirrors. “Where?”

“Black car, about three cars back. He’s been there a while,” I lie, looking into the mirror again.

“What do we do?” Chester asks, his knuckles white from the tight grip he has on the steering wheel. His face is a bit pale, his breath quickens and he keeps switching from looking at the road to checking his mirrors.

“We need to lose him!” I yell, trying to sound at least a bit panicked.

“Okay,” he says with a mix of determination and fear. “Okay. Okay. How? How do I lose him?”

I almost start to feel sorry for him, but not all the way. He’s been a pain in my ass enough over the years, I can make him pay back every once in a while. “Step on it and switch lanes a lot!”

He listens to me, and really steps on it. Then he starts switching lanes, signaling every time he does just like I taught him a few months ago.

“Don’t signal! Don’t let them know where we are going!”

“Fuck! They’re still following us?”

“Of course they are! You are telling them exactly where we’re going with your signaling!”

“Crap!”

He starts driving even faster, pushing his car in front of another one when he switches lanes. We’re starting to leave the busy part of Portland now, driving to more quiet parts.

“Faster!” I yell, and I almost can’t hold back a laugh.

“They’re right on our tails!” Chester yells when he glances back.

I look over my shoulder, faking my anxiety.

“Can’t you shoot them?” Chester asks.

“I can’t just randomly shoot people!”

“It’s not random, they’re following us!”

“Still can’t shoot them!”

He gives me a look that tells me he’s seriously scared right now, and I don’t have the heart to keep it up any longer.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go to the parking lot of the Walmart two blocks over. We’ll get out there, and see what this is all about. If it’s trouble I might have a reason to shoot them.”

There’s a drop of sweat rolling down over Chester’s cheeks. “Okay. I can do this,” he says, probably more to himself than to me.

He drives to the parking lot and parks the car with screeching tires. I quickly dive into the glove compartment, because I can’t hide my laugh any longer, pretending to grab my gun. By the time I have it in my hand, Beckett has caught up with us and Chester can see who exactly it was that was following us.

Laughter falls from my mouth when I see the confused look on his face. The confusion only increases when he hears me laughing.

“You set this up?” he hisses, pissed as hell.

“Yes, sometimes you deserve a little payback for everything you put me through!”

We both get out of the car, Chester fuming, me still very much amused. Beckett is standing outside as well, leaning against his car. He’s dressed in jeans and a navy polo and he looks amazing. I think the wide smile and the dimple that creates in his cheek make him look like a whole different person. Someone I’d absolutely go on a non-accidental date with.

I quickly divert my thoughts, because I’ve got two troublemakers to call my own and I do not need to be thinking about dating Beckett.

“The fuck!” Chester yells when he’s near Beckett. “We could’ve gotten in an accident!”

“Falsifying your driver’s license could’ve gotten you in an accident!” I counter.

Beckett’s smile disappears. “Did you falsify your driver’s license?”

Oh, I might’ve gotten him into a bit of trouble.

Chester scowls. “No, I’ve gotten a real, approved by the DMV and all the proper authorities, driver’s license.”

“Which you made yourself,” I add.

“I’m pleading the fifth on that statement,” he says, moping. He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks like a grumpy teenager doing it.

“Show me,” Beckett demands. There’s a certain tone of authority in it that does things to my stomach.

Chester squints angrily at the FBI agent, all ready to defy him, but he grabs his wallet and takes out his driver’s license. Beckett takes it and studies it.

“It looks like a real one, but you should’ve taken your headset off before you took a picture, DMV would never approve this picture.”

Then he hands back the card and my jaw drops to the floor. I thought for sure that he would keep the card.

“Thanks for the tip, asshole,” Chester answers, making Beckett smirk. What is happening? Are these two getting along? Am I the one being pranked right now?

“So, the news…” Beckett starts.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“The third victim, we got a name. Nathalie Zimmst. She was abducted when she was going for a run. According to the missing persons report she always goes for a run after dinner. Always the same route, through the woods. She never made it home.”

I sigh, getting down from the high that I’d gotten from the fake chase. Another name to add to the neverending list of people I want to avenge.

Chester must notice the change in my mood, because he walks over and wraps an arm around me while he strokes my skin with his thumb. It’s soothing, but not enough. I don’t think there is such a thing as enough.

Beckett watches what Chester is doing like a hawk, his eyes laser-focused on the stroking with a cocked head. I’d love to know what’s going on in his mind right now, although I have my suspicions.

“We’ll go back home and I’ll work on it,” Chester says.

“I’ll send over the files,” Beckett answers, “save you the trouble of hacking our systems.”

Chester scoffs. “That’d be cute if your security wasn’t laughable.”

I smile, because I bet there’s only a handful of people in this world who think the FBI’s security is laughable. Beckett is mirroring my smile, but doesn’t respond to what my friend just said. Crap, should I start referring to him as my boyfriend now? I push that thought away for later. Right now, all that needs to be on my mind is Nathalie Zimmst.

When we’re all getting back in our cars, Beckett calls Chester’s name, making him look up.

“You did a decent job in that car when I was chasing you,” Beckett says.

Chester beams.

“For someone with a fake driver’s license…”

The look Chester gives Beckett makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts, and my spirits are lifted again.

My phone rings when I’m sitting in Chester’s office, watching him work while I’m being useless. It’s Aunt Viv.

“Heya,” I answer the phone.

“Hi kiddo,” she says. Never mind that I’m an adult and older than she was when she got custody of me, she’ll always keep calling me kiddo. “I need to talk to you.”

That doesn’t sound good.

“What’s up?”

“I know you said you can’t tell me what’s going on, but I’ve been hearing about all the murders in Portland, and I know you save kids and all, but I have a feeling you know more about this. Are you alright?”

I sigh. My hinky feeling? Knowing when something’s off? It runs in the family. And Aunt Viv has it. She can always tell when one of her kids is up to something. Even if they’re over on a playdate, she can tell. She’ll call whoever it is they’re playing at and tell the parent to go check it out. And she’s always right. Always. Peter didn’t believe her at first, practically forbid her to call those parents. But the first time she did call, her boy and his friend were running a bath filled with copious amounts of bubbles and they were ready to give three cats a swimming lesson. They had the cats in swimming diapers and all. After that, Peter decided to trust Viv’s instincts.

“I can’t tell you everything, because I’m not allowed and because I don’t want to get you in trouble, but yeah, I’m involved. And it’s ugly.”

It stays silent for a while.

“Are you safe?” she finally asks.

“I’m probably the safest person in Portland right now,” I answer, sighing.

“Just… Call me if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will.”

“So,” she says in a forced lighter tone, “tell me all about that gorgeous man you’re dating.”

I bite my lip. Time to come clean. I scrunch my face and close my eyes when I answer. “Which one?”

“What do you mean which one?”

“Well, I’m still dating Remy, but I’m also kind of together with Chester.”

“Chester?!” she yells so loudly that I can see that Chester hears her from the opposite side of the room. He has a mischievous smile on his face, making me roll my eyes.

“Yeah?” I answer tentatively.

“But he’s into guys?”

“Yes, but also into me, it turns out.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then I hear some rustling and a glass getting filled. “I caught him ogling Peter’s butt once.”

“Well, Peter has a great butt.”

“He does have a great butt. Now tell me how you’re dating Chester. Don’t leave any of the details out. No, wait, definitely keep the details out.”

I laugh, sit back in my chair and make myself comfortable, ready to tell her everything.

Chester’s phone buzzes, and I watch how he looks at what it’s for. His face pales, his breath quickens and he immediately starts spinning his thumb ring. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not good.

“Viv, I’m sorry, something’s going on. I’m going to have to call you back. Love you.”

“Love you,” she replies, not asking any questions and hanging up.

I focus on Chester. “What?”

“The door,” he stammers.

“Is it another package?”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t speak again. His eyes are wide and his ring is spinning so fast it’s making me dizzy. I walk over to him and he slides his phone toward me. There’s a man in front of the door.

Fuck.

Hell is at my doorstep.

“What?” I snap when I open the front door and look Satan in the eye. Chester’s dad is standing there in his expensive Italian designer tailored suit. Chester might have gotten his baby blue eyes from his father, but other than the color there’s absolutely nothing the same about them. These are evil.

“Is that a proper way to greet a guest?”

“You’re no guest,” I fume.

“Now, now, this is my mother’s house after all.”

“No, it’s Chester’s house and you’re not welcome. Now leave the property before I shoot you for trespassing.” I aim the gun I grabbed on the way to the door at him.

“You can only shoot trespassers in Oregon if they’re a threat. I don’t form any threat right now.” He’s way too calm and cocky for my liking.

“I beg to differ. You’re a threat to Chester’s mental health any time you see him. Besides, it’s only illegal when I kill you for trespassing. I can shoot you in the foot. Or the knee.”

He chuckles, and it’s like I hear Patrick Bates laughing.

“I’m here to see my son.”

“He stopped being your son the moment you let him be molested by his nanny. Chester is not talking to you and will not be talking to you. Not now, not in the future, not even when hell freezes over and a cow flies over the moon. Now, leave.”

My heart is going crazy. I can handle Abraham at a fundraiser, because there are people there and I know he’ll behave. Here? With nobody around? I have no idea how to handle him. There’s no etiquette for a casual talk with Lucifer.

“You know I can make life very difficult for you if I want to…”

I raise my brow. Is he seriously threatening me while I’m aiming a gun at him?

“I can make sure nobody ever gives your little club a donation anymore,” he continues.

I aim right above his shoulder and shoot. It’s so close to his ear that he has to feel the bullet pass by.

“That’s the only warning shot I’m giving you. Leave.”

He cackles, but his eyes are wide and his hands are balled. I aim again while he’s still standing there, kneecap this time. His eyes follow the path of my gun, widen and then he turns around and leaves.

I have to give it to him. I don’t know if I’d turn my back to someone who’s just shot at me. It shouldn’t surprise me. I’ve always known he was crazy. I just never realized just how crazy he was.

Chester’s suddenly behind me, wrapping his arms around me. He’s trembling, but he kisses my neck anyway.

“How much of that did you get?”

“Only the last bit,” he answers. “I came here when I heard a shot.”

“I gave him fair warning,” I defend myself.

“You shouldn’t have,” Chester grunts.

I scoff and close the door.

“Why do you think he suddenly wants to see you again?” I ponder out loud.

Chester shrugs while he pulls me further inside, trailing kisses from my ear to my neck.

“My best guess is that he saw me at the mayor’s ball, and it made him realize there’s something he can’t have and that money can’t buy. The narcissist, psychopath, plain old certifiable crazy - whatever the hell he is, has decided he needs to see his son for something so that’s what’s going to happen.”

It doesn’t sound all that reasonable, but when has what Abraham does ever been reasonable?

“Which is never going to happen,” I state, turning around in his arms.

“Never,” he agrees, pushing me back on the couch, where he presses his lips against mine and together we forget about everything that’s happening in the world.