18. 17
“Why was this necessary again?” Chester asks me when we walk into Remy’s dance studio two days after we gave Winny and Beckett the list of suspects. He holds the door open for me, acting like a gentleman, which I observe with a surprised look.
“Because we need to remember how to have a little fun. We have the privilege of working a very noble job. But it’s hard, it’s draining and it takes something out of each and every one of us. Without the fun, we’re going to burn out soon. And that applies to all of us.”
Remy stands in the dance studio, fiddling with the musical installation with his back to the door. When he notices us he approaches with a spring in his step. He’s like a cute little puppy whenever he gets to dance. Over the last weeks I’ve managed to convince some of the kids to come back and to resume their dancing lessons, but I don’t think things will go completely back to the way they were ever again. We broke that. Remy is a glass half-full kind of guy, so he’s looking ahead instead of back and taking what he can.
“Ah, you’re here! You’re the first ones.” He kisses me first and Chester right after. If anything, I’ve managed to make Remy happy with my plan. Anybody else who will have a smile on their face at the end of the day will be a bonus. I’ve invited everyone who works for FIX Foundation, their significant others and Beckett and Winny for a company outing. I didn’t even throw in the usual team building bullshit, I declared that this outing would be a fun-only outing.
“Seeing as we’re fifteen minutes early we expected to be the first ones here,” I tell him. We’ve all got workout gear on, and Remy looks especially smashing in his navy colored sweats and gray tank top with huge arm holes. I’m just glad he isn’t wearing any gray sweatpants, because I’d be way too distracted to participate in the dancing lesson itself.
I realized that life should be more than just working. Yes, saving kids is my end goal. I think it was the reason I was put on this Earth and this particular path through life. But there’s more. And the expression work hard, play harder should be ingrained in our company policy more. Life’s too short not to fill it with as much love and laughter as we can.
“You think having a bunch of hackers try to dance will be what they consider having fun?” Chester asks while he sits down on the floor with his back to the mirror wall. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a black band tee with a Korn print. It’s not a baggy one for once, but a rather tight-fitting shirt that’s showing off his muscles. I’ve never seen him wear it before, but it’s become my favorite shirt of his on the drive over here alone.
“Have you ever followed one of my dancing lessons, Mister Von Liechsenfield?” Remy asks with a look that can’t possibly mean anything good.
“No.”
“So don’t knock it before you try it. I’ll make sure you’re having fun. And everyone being here with their partners and loved ones will make sure it’s more about being together than actually learning how to dance.”
Chester cocks his head, letting us know he doesn’t believe Remy in the slightest.
“Just have a little faith,” I tell him, sitting down beside him and nestling myself in his armpit. I’m going to use all the excuses I can find to snuggle up to him if he’s going to be wearing this shirt.
“Hello?” Alex says when he sticks his head around the corner. “This the right place?”
“Sure is,” I answer, beaming when I see him and his wife enter. Alex’s wife is a gorgeous woman, her hair braided in neat rows of cornrow, her eyes made up in a tasty smokey eye and a fifties rockabilly dress. Looking at her you wouldn’t say she’s had a baby in the last year. It makes me feel like a slob in my yoga pants and tank top.
She struts past Alex, grabs his hand and takes him with her. Even before I can get up, she crouches in front of me and hugs me tight. “I can’t tell you enough how much I love you for giving us a reason to get out of the house without any kids.”
I laugh. “You’re welcome, Georgina. I’m glad you’re here.”
Georgina is the embodiment of an army wife. She’s been with Alex forever and they’ve been through it all. Now she’s a stay at home mom with three small kids and I have to say that out of the two of them, she’s the one who deserves all the medals. She’s willingly living my nightmare.
“A night off and a reason to get Alex to show off his moves. Perfect.”
Alex rolls his eyes behind her, but she catches him looking in the mirror and he quickly straightens his face.
“You hear that?” I fake-whisper to Chester. “Alex’s got moves.”
“We’re all about the moves tonight,” Remy butts in. He sticks out his hand to Georgina and introduces himself. With a simple handshake and a panty-melting smile I can see he’s winning the woman over already.
Scott and Zoey are the next to enter the studio. They’re holding on to each other and I think somewhere in the last few days they made things official. They stand with Alex and Georgina, both women complimenting the other on their hair. It’s one of the secret bonding rituals of women.
Soon the room fills with other people. Dylan attends, but arrives alone. Two of Chester’s hackers and their girlfriends join us as well. Miranda and her husband show up exactly on time, and I spend some time talking to her and Herbert, who’s always been very friendly to me. When FIX Foundation was still in its baby shoes he gave me some pointers on assembling my team and how to run it. His tips and information are still what I rely on when I’m having a hard time figuring out what to do.
Winny and Beckett are the last to arrive. They came as each other’s partners, because in the end, that’s what they are. Beckett doesn’t have a significant other - or well, you know, kind of - and Winny’s wife is too far away and too pregnant to be joining us. Technically they’re not a part of FIX Foundation, but the way we’ve been working together these last few months made me invite them. And if I’m being perfectly honest, the way thinking of having Beckett here made me feel was a big reason to invite them anyway.
Winny is wearing a swing dress, her hair done up and white feathers sticking out of it. She immediately makes her way over to me and hugs me, her eyes lighting up in excitement.
“Thank you for giving me a reason to dress up,” she beams.
Beckett grunts.
“What?” I ask him. I think it’s cute that it gets Winny this excited.
“She’s been trying to tell me how she and Caroline like to dress up for years now and I do my best to ignore it. This reminds me.”
“What’s wrong with dressing up?”
“They like dressing up in the bedroom.”
“So?” I say, failing to see the problem.
“I don’t need to hear about that shit!”
I raise my brows. “You do not want to hear about two hot women dressing up in the bedroom?”
“Not when it’s my partner!” he says, outraged. “That’s like hearing about your sister’s sex life.”
“But you don’t have a sister,” I answer, deliberately being a little dense and a hardass.
“You know what I mean,” he grunts, throwing his hands up.
I grin from ear to ear. “I do, but I still think she looks stunning and you’re one lucky bastard you get to dance with her today.”
At least he doesn’t deny that.
“That’s everyone, right?” Remy says, laying his hand on the small of my back. I catch him throwing a nasty look towards Beckett. He might be preaching the the-more-the-merrier gospel, but I don’t think he’s forgiven Beckett completely.
“Yeah, we’re all here.”
He claps his hands together, getting everyone’s attention.
“Thank you all for coming. I’ve got a beautiful evening planned for all of you. First, we’re going to do a fun jive, get the blood flowing a bit. Then dinner should arrive. And after dinner we’ll do a medieval group dance. There’s all sorts of ways to mess it up, bump into each other and go the wrong way. Shits and giggles, as always. The main objective today is fun. And Alex, I was specifically instructed to tell you this counts as a workout and you can’t make them do another.”
I hear some groaning, some laughter, but everyone seems to be on board with just going along with it.
“Now, the jive, for those of you who don’t know, is a Latin-American dance that was invented in the 1930s. There’s a little bit of rock ‘n roll in there, some swing moves, some Jitterbug. It’s all kinds of fun, and it goes a little something like this.”
He shows us a series of steps. They don’t look very complicated, but either Remy is going extremely slow or there’s going to be a few surprises for us along the way.
“Please split up in couples. Most of you got here with a partner. Ches, you’re with me, Abby, please dance with Dylan.”
The room starts moving and splits up in pairs. I can hear Chester moping that he doesn’t want to be the one who has to dance with the professional, creating a smile on my face. Dylan stands next to me, and I throw an arm around his shoulder, awaiting further instructions.
“Now, I don’t care if you’re a boy, a girl, or somewhere in between, but one of you has got to lead and the other has to follow. Please divide those roles amongst yourselves.” He claps his hands again and motions for us to get starting.
Dylan and I share a look.
“I can’t dance for shit,” I blurt.
“I’m not leading you, you’re my boss,” he says at that same moment.
“I’m not your boss today!”
“I can’t dance for shit either!”
“This is supposed to be the easy part,” I argue, pulling a face.
“Rock-paper-scissors, winner gets to decide who leads,” Dylan says, holding his fisted hand, waiting for me to join him and I waggle my eyebrows to let him know it’s on.
After my winning rock defeated Dylan’s scissors in the final round, Dylan ends up leading. It’s not that big of a task right now. With us jumping up and down to Runaway Baby by Bruno Mars trying to get the basics of the dance down, we’re mostly trying to stay in sync without doing anything out of the ordinary. We get to move on to the fun parts after we get the basics down.
I look up when Zoey shrieks and I find her thrown over Scott’s shoulder, both of them roaring with laughter. She’s pounding his back, trying to make him put her down, but it’s no use.
“Let me lead you, woman,” he demands of her.
“I could let you lead me if you had any idea where we are going, but you have no sense of direction,” the petite hacker complains.
“I could lead you anywhere you need me to lead you,” Scott argues. “I’ve been in the Amazon with nothing but a compass to guide me and I came out. If I can manage that, I can lead you through a dance.”
“Yeah? How many diversions did you have to take before you came out of the jungle?”
Zoey shrieks again when he spanks her ass and calls her an infuriating woman. She giggles and I tear my eyes off them.
Around the room, everyone is having fun. Alex and Georgina have given up, dancing a slow dance to an up tempo song and I get a glimpse of the man he is at home. The father that isn’t a soldier, but a devoted husband with a huge mouth and a small heart.
Miranda and Herbert are actually getting the hang of it, laughing and having fun. Herbert is surprisingly flexible, and Miranda looks at him like he just stole the moon for her.
Beckett and Winny are both looking at their feet, giving each other pointers on how it should be. Somehow they changed the physical exercise into one where they’re primarily talking. The huge feathers Winny has in her hair constantly tickle Beckett in the face, and he just laughs about it. I can see that dimple in his cheek that I get a little peek of every now and then - the sight of it filling me with warmth.
When Remy isn’t giving people pointers on how to dance, he’s actually dancing with Chester, who is doing remarkably well. I have to admit I’ve never danced with him besides the mandatory dances in boarding school and they weren’t anywhere near as much fun as we’re having right now. Chester seems to be the one leading Remy, who lets the dancer dance around him. Remy catches me watching them, stops Chester mid-dance and comes over.
“Dylan, buddy, you’re sucking the fun out of it. Look at my feet, and repeat. Abby, go entertain Chester.”
I snort, leaving a frustrated Dylan behind who gets a quick tutorial on how to jive and then continues to stumble over his own feet. Chester is a little out of breath when I reach him. He grabs my hand, pulls me to him, pushes me back and starts leading me through the steps.
“I thought you didn’t see the point of all this?” I ask him, secretly gloating he’s having so much fun.
“Well, Remy can be quite convincing. And I never saw the fun in the mandatory ballroom classes my parents made me take. This? I won’t say this is fun, because I’ve got a reputation to maintain, but it’s bordering fun.”
I chuckle, get twirled and try to fall into the right steps again. I swear it’s harder than it looks. Chester pulls me close, lays a hand on the small of my back and shows me where to go.
When Winny laughs hard, I look up and see the two FBI agents standing still, holding each other up. The corners of my mouth pull up. Chester looks over his shoulder, finding the source of my amusement and he grunts.
“What?” I ask. He’s been working together with Beckett and he didn’t seem to have any objections to that. But perhaps dealing with him on a professional basis is different than just seeing him as a person.
“I’m not allowed to say.”
I scoff. “You’re not allowed?”
“No Remy forbade it.”
The look on my face must give away my confusion. He sighs, lays his hand on my cheek, the hard metal of his thumb ring pressing in it. “I want to say that if you give your heart away to someone else, pick someone who isn’t going away as soon as this killer is caught.”
My heart skips a beat and I inhale sharply, my eyes pulled to Beckett once again.
“I just have a feeling it’s a little too late for that advice,” Chester adds before he takes his hand away, and makes me spin. I’m speechless. And afraid to admit how right he is.
“Winny,” he yells, “this one doesn’t have any moves, please show me yours.” And just like that, he leaves me standing there alone. It’s very unlike Chester. When it comes to me he’s always been selfish and I’ve always been more than okay with that. So him willingly dancing with Winny, who jumps at the chance to dance with him, might be the most loving gesture he’s shown me in all the years we’ve loved each other.
Beckett makes his way over to me as if we’re two magnets, unable to stay away from each other. I guess that’s what attraction is. It has no conscience, no heartbeat, no will. But it is anyway, and there is no way around it. No fighting it.
“I’d ask you if I can have this dance,” he says in that low voice of his that I can feel inside of me, “but whatever it was I was just doing doesn’t count as dancing.”
I smile, laying a hand on his and one on his shoulder. Lou Bega’s ‘I Got a Girl’ comes on and he steps out, pushing me into the steps. I let him. I have to look up to look him in the eye from this position while he stares down at me. He’s smiling, little dimple included, and being this close I can see the thin scar on his upper lip.
“How’d you get that scar?” I ask by way of making conversation. And because I’m damn curious about it, but that’s only an added bonus.
“It’s a little gift from one of my earliest cases. We hunted the Michigan Moonlight Slasher. Worst serial killer name ever, but he cut his victims up during the night, so the name kind of stuck. We caught him red-handed before he could finish his latest victim. He tried to fight his way out, and I got a little souvenir.”
“A serial killer gave you that?”
“Yes.”
It’s then I realize that this whole situation I’m in is Beckett’s whole life. When this killer is apprehended, he’s onto the next one. It’s believed that around eighty serial killers are at large in the States alone at all times. When this situation is fixed, he’ll start all over again in another one of these cases. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.
I stop dancing.
“What happens when we catch this killer?”
“We take him in, he’ll be tried, we leave Portland a safer place than it was.”
“No, I mean, what happens to you?” What happens to us.
“I’ll be relocated to another case I guess. New place, new partner. Winny is home for a while after this, spending time with Caroline and the baby. I think she’ll go into research after that, stay put, stay closer to home.”
I swallow, staring at my feet because I’m unable to look up. Maybe it’s best if I don’t see this thing with Beckett through. It’ll only lead to heartbreak. But isn’t it too late for that anyway?
I didn’t think this through, this whole falling in love. Not only do I fall in love with three men, but it’s men who don’t all get along and who won’t all be here in the long run. What a stupid move on my part.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just realized you’ll be gone soon.”
He pulls me closer to him, turns me around and wraps his arms around me. His warm breath tickles my ear, his stubble rough against my skin.
“Just tell me you want me to stay, and we’ll figure it out.”
The whole world seems to come to a standstill.
Before I can answer, the door to the dancing studio opens, and a delivery man comes in carrying a stack of boxes filled with sandwiches inside. Beckett lets me go and I look at him intently when I take a step away. Would I ask him to stay? Remy claps his hands and announces food has arrived, and the moment Beckett and I had is gone.
We arrive home later that evening, giddy and full of life. Remy stayed back to clean up his studio, promising he’ll stop by later and Chester and I took off. I throw my keys in the little bowl next to the door while Chester goes through the mail. There’s never a lot, because most of it comes digitally these days, but sometimes we still receive some. Before I started getting serial killer mail, receiving letters would make me excited. There’s a small part of me that still reacts like a kid whenever I receive mail. I can’t put my finger on why that is, it just feels magical to me.
Now, after having received fan mail from my favorite women-killing fan, it’s lost a little of its shine. Chester took it upon himself to check all the mail without bothering me about it.
When the silence of him checking the mail stretches for longer than it should, I start to get worried.
“What’s taking you so long?” I yell.
He walks over to me, holding a letter in his hands, looking paler than his usual whiter shade of pale composure, which he shoves unceremoniously in my hands.
“He found a new angle,” Chester says, his voice soft and hoarse.
“The killer?” I ask before I take the time to look down at the piece of paper in my hands.
“No, sorry, I didn’t think that through. No, my father.”
“Your dad sent you a letter?”
“His lawyer did. It states that they want to set up a meeting so we can discuss me getting part of my inheritance now.”
“But you don’t want that money,” I state. It’s not just something Chester says on a whim, he truly wants nothing to do with that money.
“Well, that’s the new angle I guess. I really, really don’t want that money. But FIX Foundation could use it? It’d be really selfish of me not to take it and do some good with it.”
I suck in a big gulp of air. Because as much as I’d like him to be, he’s not wrong. Using that money to save kids? That’d be the best destination for that money ever. I just don’t want Chester to put his feelings aside for this. The silence lingers, and I don’t know what to say.
“I’m going for a swim,” he says, not waiting for my answer and turning around to go to the basement. After I drop the letter on a small cabinet in the hallway I follow him, my head spinning with the information. Why? Why is Abraham doing this? Why now? What’s his endgame? Should Chester set up a meeting and get that money? It feels like blood money, but does using it for the right purposes make it any less tainted?
My mind is still racing, only finding more questions and no answers when I sit down on the bench beside the pool. Chester walks out of the showers in his swimming trunks, climbs on the edge of the pool and dives in. He looks extremely gracious doing so, and I take a moment to appreciate his form when he glides under water. His face breaks the surface and he starts a brutal front crawl on the other side. The light above the pool reflects on his wet back, the black and white of his tattoo in stark contrast to the blue water.
I don’t know how much time passes, but he’s swam several laps when he swims to where I’m sitting and hangs on his forearms on the side.
“I hate playing his game,” he says.
That’s the thing that bothers me the most as well. Agreeing to this meeting will allow Abraham to win some extent. He’ll get Chester to come to him. And, well, fuck that.
“It’s a stupid game and you shouldn’t even have to consider playing it,” I say as the freaking adult that I am. Thinking things are stupid isn’t childish at all.
“Then why am I considering it?”
“Because you think more about others than you do about yourself.”
His baby blues look at me and I can see the wheels spinning behind them. He doesn’t believe me. Thinks he doesn’t think about others. Which isn’t true. He’s always been too modest.
Can he be a gigantic selfish asshole?
Yes. Absolutely, yes. But most of the time he thinks about others before he thinks about himself. And he thinks that’s the way it has to be, so he doesn’t notice it.
“If you want to skip the meeting, not set it up at all, let the money go to a buffoon’s sanctuary or something like that, that’s okay too. Your feelings are valid, and if you don’t want to be tricked into going to a meeting for money, then that’s okay too. We can manage without it. We already do. We’ll keep that up.”
He stares at me, completely immobile. I think I gave him an error. Or maybe it was that letter that did it, but he seems to be stuck inside his head no matter what the catalyst was.
“So, what do you want to do?”
“You know I love you, right?” he says completely out of the blue. We’ve told each other we love one another about a million times, but not like this. Not with the extra layer on top of it. He’s nervously spinning his thumb ring, giving away just how much this is impacting him.
“I love you too,” I answer, feeling the truth of it spreading like wildfire in my body.
His face lights up, his eyes shining before he gets serious. “Let’s get the money to save some kids and deal with whatever evil master plan Lucifer has thought of after that.”
I nod, even if I’m still torn up about it. Chester shouldn’t be forced to do something he doesn’t want to, least of all by that giant assturd. He’s been through enough. And I know he can take care of himself, but I still want to protect him with everything I’ve got.
“I don’t want you to do something you don’t want.”
He shrugs. “Neither do I, but I’m going to do it anyway. Wanna make it up to me?”
I squint my eyes at him, unwilling to make promises I can’t keep.
“Get in the water with me,” he elaborates.
I stop breathing, looking at the pool. I know how to swim, I used to swim all the time when I was a kid. But the idea of being surrounded by water gives me anxiety. Chewing the bottom of my lip, I contemplate what to do.
“You won’t let me go under?” I answer eventually.
“Never,” he confirms, still looking up at me from the edge of the pool.
I breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four and hold for four again.
The rejection is practically on my lips already, because screw that water. I get to have at least one irrational fear. But then I catch the hope in Chester’s eyes and I decide to do this for him. I shed my yoga pants and tank top until I’m stripped to my underwear. I quickly seek out the way Chester looks at me again, because it’s the only source of courage I can find. When I reach the edge of the pool, I dip my toe in it, and it doesn’t feel scary. It’s not the water I’m scared of, it’s being submerged by water.
“Just… make sure you keep me above water,” I tell him.
Refusing to jump in, I sit down, submerging my legs before I let myself glide off the edge. Chester is right there, his arms around me before I can look for him. I’m holding my breath, even if it’s not as bad as it could be. The water is a little cold, but I remember the water being cold for a little while after you get into it anyway. Chester’s body radiates heat through the water and suddenly I don’t know if the goosebumps are from the cold or from his nearness.
The underwear I’m wearing isn’t really covering me up, being some lacey pretty thing. It’s not a real bikini and it’s hiding nothing. I start kicking my legs like I’ve learned forever ago to keep myself afloat. A strong arm wraps around my waist, holding me up even if I don’t really need it. It’s nice having him comfort me through this.
“I still don’t like the idea of this pool,” I admit, refusing to look anywhere but at him.
“I know,” he answers while he leans forward and presses a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I will never like accepting the Von Liechsenfield money. But I figured if we do it together it won’t be so bad.”
He makes sense. And I’ll gladly do anything, as long as it’s together with him.
“Look at you, acting all mature.” My mouth tilts up.
“Never,” he yells, the sound echoing off the walls surrounding the pool.
I snort. There’s the Chester I know. And love.