| Subject: Sorry the above is cut off. Here it is again. |
Author:
Arlis
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Date Posted: Monday, October 17, 07:25:11am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Chapter 207 - Part 2 (16 and above) (end of chapter 207)" on Monday, October 17, 07:22:29am
The gaze of the man who approached her was soft as always, tender as it had ever been; she felt it, even if it took her several seconds to get the strength to meet it. "Anna," he greeted her formally, looking her over before taking a seat across from her. Her heart clenched ever further at his presence. After all these years, she should know when she was licked; she laughed, looking up to him. But she had never met a more gentle enemy than him.
"Rene." Her voice, deep as it was from the years of her habit, caressed the name, her eyes quite smoky as well. She could see that he was bracing himself, understood what was coming--but that wouldn't make it any easier for her; something in her fought for just a second. How in hell did Perry think she could do this and stay sane?
This question wasn't worth pondering for long--Perry's concern with any woman's emotions fleeting, at best; she moved right to business, reaching into her handbag to retrieve a small, folded note, pushing it over to him. "This is what I'll have to give to Hedda, if you don't cooperate."
Despite himself, and the situation, he just smiled, knowing how little pleasure this meeting would give her. He didn't have to look over the missive to know how poisonous it would be--understood even before his eyes cast over it that it would be some forgery between himself and the man he loved. It was a fairly adept one, too, he had to admit; he folded it back up, looking to her. "Who are you with?" There had never been any question at all that she was doing this on someone else's orders.
It was this fact they both understood, but the truth of her confession hurt, even after all this time. "Perry." Her eyes dropped, when his grew wide and thunderous. No matter what her pride, she could never stand a second of his disapproval.
It was this information which finally drew a real reaction from the designer, his understanding of the situation--of his own desperate part in it--growing. Still, his first concern was with her. "You're sleeping with him?"
He was only mildly relieved when she shook her head. "Not with him, no." There was a sigh. "He likes them young."
Lord help him. He didn't like this but couldn't help but understand. While she couldn't be a day over 27--he was gentleman enough to know to never ask a woman's true age--she already seemed a bit older. Perhaps it was the constant string of cigarettes or the nightly, numbing glasses of gin. Still, whatever the reason, she was Bauer's now, was a party favor--and a spy--and a courier--and whatever the hell else the man might want from her; he had to close his eyes. It was all far too terrible to think about in depth.
"How . . .?" It was all he could say, in the end. Her role, her "job," was too clear; the look moved back to her, saddening further. But he couldn't understand how she had ever ended up with *him*.
This question threw him, leaving him stunned before he could even get an answer. He knew her well, after all, knew what she had been forced to do in her life--knew the role she felt to be her destiny. She wasn't a dainty sort of woman, took life on the chin and would only sigh sadly as the next blow came--looking rather floozily elegant all the while. He admired it in her, knew--in some ways--that she was tougher than he was. Had he been capable of forming a deeper sort of bond with anyone of her sex, he might have fallen half in love with her, for whatever the feeling would have been worth--a sort of jaded companionship, no doubt. But, even then, it wouldn't have been good for either of them. She deserved a better life. And he deserved to live unharassed with the one man he loved.
He looked her over again now, the sadness in his gaze growing further by the moment--their whole past coming back to haunt him. He shouldn't have left her, should never have allowed her to wander unprotected. True, he had believed that he was doing her a favor, was letting her go free from the pretense they had been enacting for the world, the one which had weighed upon him so heavily--the one his Helmut now had to endure, as well. Still, the banker had it slightly easier, his own wife using him in return; Rene would have smiled, had he had the heart. Somehow, that made the sham much easier to face.
But none of this applied to the woman across from him, to the life they had supposedly built together. They had married for no reason other than appearances--Rene requiring someone, Anna needing some way away from her painful relationship with Freddie. That she had loved the designer hadn't made the match any easier for him--the disservice it did her all the more poignant; his sigh went deep--the sadness in his gaze. If only he had found her some better way out than this.
She knew all his thoughts, all his fears for her, but addressed none of them--answering his question simply, instead. "The debts." He had known about them for sometime, knew they would never be repaid. They were a constant leash around her neck--and a dog with a leash was always just asking for a new owner.
Christ. He closed his eyes, staring down to the table, seeing her situation. "Bauer has them now?"
"He's paying them." Or as much interest on them as needed to be met. To the sort of people she owed money, there were only so many ways to keep up. And having someone as relatively powerful as Bauer to keep them back was the only sort of protection she could find.
Rene knew this, had needed to struggle to keep up the payments when they had been married. While he had wanted to continue to help her after the divorce, she hadn't let him--would find her own way; something within him soured. But the way she had chosen would always come at a very high price to everyone's soul.
He knew this as well as she did, knew what she would have to do to keep up her unholy bargain. He only continued the thought to have it out in the open--but he was still careful to leave Helmut's name out of the proceedings. "And if I--or someone else--paid them, instead?"
"Blackmail," she replied simply--and he understood it all. Money given to Bauer to cover for her would be told to whichever gossip monger as part of the story--would be seen as "hush money." Rene was glowering, the past too clear. The fact that the producer would happily take to bed Helmut or Rene--or both of them together, preferably without their full consent--meant nothing. All that ever mattered was who threw the mud first.
His sigh went deep, as he gazed into her, wondering where all of this could end, for either of them. There was only one question left. "What does he want?" He could only hope it wasn't his beloved.
It wasn't--at least, not yet. Perhaps the producer hadn't thought of it. Anna's eyes roamed the table, wondering what any of it meant--but she was happier not knowing details. "He only said that . . ." She shook her head; it was a bit cryptic--but, since it was coming from Perry, it was bound to be ugly, her gaze on her companion. "You're to 'leave Michael and Kitty to face their fate alone.'"
Oh, Christ. Rene's face sank into his hand for a moment, wondering where any of this could go--fearing greatly where it would; suddenly the constant, terrible news from Europe seemed only a dim sort of fear. "He's involved," he murmured--but he didn't elucidate. It wouldn't do them any good to explain it all to her now.
He was standing a moment later, could see nothing to do but retreat. His back was half to her, his eyes on the front door. "Tell him he has a deal."
Lord. There was something hard about him now, something foreign to all her experience with him; it frightened her just a little--but she had to question. It was her job. "Does he?"
There was a terrible second of silence--one far colder than the worst night alone on the street. His gaze found her after it, leaving her even more chilled--its piercing knowledge of her terrible; he seemed to have just made a decision. "I know I can't talk you out of this, no matter what I say. Still, I want you to know what he intends." She shuddered slightly, not wanting to hear it but having no way away. "Bauer is part of a plan to kill either Samuelle or Kitty." The look cut far deeper. "And, if he's the one who dies, Kitty will be given to . . ."
"Don't." She had turned away, was staring at the floor, refusing to take anything like such knowledge in. She knew what Formitz was, knew what he did. He had even shown her one of the girls once, after he had . . . She couldn't bear to finish the thought, her tough facade fading. It was revolting to think of any girl in his hands. But to know that her Rene would be forced to stand by and watch his best friend and that man's wife both tortured beyond pain . . .
He was about to go, had left her nearly broken with just this one bit of information; she only managed a final word, her voice far huskier than normal. "Why did you tell me that?" He knew she was much happier never knowing the full truth.
His back was to her now. "Because sometimes doing what's right is far more important than any of our lives." He stood there for a second, as this sank in. "I just wanted you to remember that, before you let this go on."
He left her then, only one, more tender look thrown her way--one far more terrible than the rest. Because it showed how much he had thought of her, the high standards he had still, somehow, possessed. She closed her eyes, the thought scarring. And now all of them were almost entirely gone.
She sat there, unmoving, for several minutes after that, simply unable to take this truth in; it took a great deal to keep back the tears, as she rose to return to her master. With just that one look, he had asked the impossible of her--the punishment for failure his utter loss of faith; something in her coiled. And, as futile as any alternative seemed, she just didn't think she could bear to lose that now.
[End of Part 207]
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