WARNING: I am almost never serious but I AM BEING VERY SERIOUS RIGHT NOW! There is a scene in the coming chapters which some might find disturbing, unnecessary, sexually violent, frightening, gratuitous, sick, perverse, excessive, and or repugnant. This is a crossroads where bad things happen to good characters. So, consider yourselves warned.

DISCLAIMER: Personally, I hate making the above warning. It sort of kills the momentum. But, there have been complaints about my writings being 'a problem' for content at other sites. I don't want to cause trouble for Steph and the girls so the warning is up. If anybody is offended by my work please direct comments to me at the email listed below.

FEEDBACK: Love it? Hate it? Want the t-shirt? Let me know what you think p.phair@comcast.net

AYER IS HUMAN

by phair

Chapter 18

"You do know your loft is a pretty obvious hiding place?" Tristan asked from her spot in the center of Sage's supremely comfortable king size bed. "I mean, it's my first choice for a hiding place."

Sage emerged from the bathroom adjusting the black leather sling holding her left arm. She gave a small smile at the tiny twinges of pain the movement caused. The pain was increasing as she forced the hand, with the aid of her right hand, to do more and more work each day. Pain, she believed, was much better than the unrelenting numbness she endured in the early days of her recovery.

"Nobody will think to look for you in my bedroom. We made sure nobody saw you anywhere near the hotel since you bowled my mother over. I brought you up here in by my private elevator from the garage...,"

"What about security cameras? Somebody had to have seen us," Tristan interrupted.

Sage smiled reassuringly as she sat on the edge of the bed, "Dad was in the security office and cut the camera feed. He told them he was running a systems check. Besides the way I had you covered up, you might as well have been wearing a burka for all anybody could see you."

"Mr. Matthews got me released to your custody. That's got to be easy to track down, right?"

"The FBI is working with us. All anybody knows officially is my family refused to press charges against you. That's what I was supposed to be doing at the police station; signing waivers. From there, everybody believes you were released from lock up to receive treatment at a hospital." Sage clarified with a smirk, "A psychiatric hospital."

"That'd be simple enough to check out."

"Mr. Matthews spread the word you'd be admitted as Jane Doe under the care of our own Dr. Tsu. She can be trusted to keep the secret as well as she fixed up your feet during her house call earlier. As for patient information at the hospital, Arbordale currently has fifteen Jane Does. Thirteen of which are actually women. So, nobody's going to be able to find you're not there very easily."

Tristan still looked worried as she studied her treated and taped feet. "What about Max? I know, you think Sebastian/America's security team can take care of him but…Mr. Arnold managed to get us dropped off the roof of your own building under the watchful eyes of Sebastian/America's finest."

Sage closed the distance between them in order to kiss Tristan's neck. She moved up slowly suckling the soft skin all the way to her ear. Sage could feel Tristan's pulse beating wildly under her lips.

"We have a small change in plan with regards to Max."

Tristan shuddered back from the soothing ministrations of Sage's mouth. "What change? God, Sage, I'm trusting you to keep him safe. If you can't then I might as well grab him and run for the hills. Let the state try to find me."

Sage captured Tristan's face in her hand and hushed, "You've got to trust me if not for your sake then for Max's. If you run off with him, they will find you eventually and you'll lose the little contact you have with him forever. He doesn't need that grief. His life is tough enough. Don't make him try to cope without you. He loves you too much to lose you."

"Do you really think he loves me?" Tristan could barely find her voice to ask.

"No, I don't think he loves you," Tristan's eyes filled with tears at the remark. "I KNOW he loves you."

Tristan did cry then. She leaned forward to take hold of Sage. As the tremors of her sobs shook her, she held tight to her former lover and the woman held on to her.

"I want so much for him," she confessed.
Sage whispered, "So do I. And, we'll get him everything he needs after this is over. I promise." Sage released her grip and set Tristan back a bit to explain the plan's changes. "We were spreading the operation too thin across too much territory trying to cover here, your place, the hospital, and Mount Hope . We pulled live surveillance from your place and are relying on remote cameras. Mr. Arnold sent Neal there last time so it's unlikely he would go there himself this time without you even being home. There's a five man team at the hospital. We're trying to make it fairly obvious which room is yours. Don't want Mr. Arnold making a mistake and taking down the wrong crackpot…"

Tristan rolled her eyes, "You have such a way with words."

Sage gave a big grin very pleased with herself for getting Tristan to relax a little. " Mount Hope is just too big; four buildings, half dozen cottages, rambling fields…,"

"That's why I picked it for him."

"…and a great choice for an education but," Sage frowned, "not when you need to provide protection. So, Max's swim team has been invited to the hotel for the weekend."

"He's here!" Tristan could not contain her excitement.

Sage nodded. "He and his nineteen fellow swimmers along with twenty parents or guardians and their coach and the assist coach and Brook and Mom arrived an hour ago," Sage listed off the people and held up corresponding fingers until she ran out of movable fingers. "Mom and Brook think Dad arranged the event to make Mom feel better about missing the team's competition this afternoon. The kids and Mount Hope think he set it up as a reward for their championship season."

"Championship? I didn't even know he swam," Tristan shook her head sadly. "They only tell me what I need to know to do the one to ones with him. I'm not allowed to know anything else about him."

Sage desperately wanted to help Tristan get better access to Max but they needed to finish this undertaking first. "We blocked out the entire third floor for the kids. They have the run of the place. They get exclusive use of the pool from 10 to Noon and 2 to 4, TV's, video games, room service, and anything else they want. Don't worry, he's having a ball. They all are. I might need to make this an annual event for them."

"And, he's safe, right? He's safe here. You promise me," Tristan was begging.

"I promise. We'll keep him safe."

The two sat in silence within a hair of each other but not touching. Each replayed the details in their own heads. Each looking for flaws that neither wanted to find.

"The weekend? They're here just for the weekend?" Tristan asked.

Sage nodded.

"What makes you think Monday is going to be any safer than today for any of us?"

"Because, we're going to catch Mr. Arnold tomorrow night," Sage stated with confidence.

Tristan gave a short nod but was completely baffled by the assurance in the statement. With no more details forthcoming and her body begging for peace, Tristan accepted the remark at face value. She reached up and opened the top button of Sage's shirt. The second followed quickly.

"As long as you're sure, then we should get ready for bed," Tristan hushed.

Sage cleared her throat, "Sure, we can do that. We probably should get some sleep."

Tristan smiled as she popped open the third and forth button, "Who said anything about sleep."

* * *

Tristan was careful as she pulled Sage's shirt up her injured left arm. Even though the hardware holding the bones together had been removed, scabs and jagged, meaty scars remained. Additionally, the range of motion was limited at best. She understood Sage's emotional desire to wear long sleeves but functionally it made dressing a cumbersome process.

"Sorry," Sage whispered in response to the unspoken criticism on Tristan's lips, "I just can't stand looking at it. If you want, I can call the nurse to come help me finish up?"

Tristan stopped what she was doing to question, "You have a nurse? Is she a woman? If she is then she better be older than your mother."

"The hotel has a nurse on staff. She's been amazingly helpful," Sage gave a deep satisfied smile. "Sorry, baby, but she's really hot. Smoking might be the better word for her."

Tristan jerked Sage's shirt closed and roughly began to button it, "And, history is the word for her as of tonight, my friend. I think I can handle all the bathing and dressing jobs you can't manage on your own from here on out."

"Jealous?" Sage teased.

"Absofuckinglutely!" Tristan grabbed Sage by the back of the neck and pulled her head down for a long and forceful kiss. "I'm not going to tolerate you with anybody but me. We're exclusive from tonight forward. I'm afraid, sweet Sage, I've fallen in love with you."

Sage grinned and wrapped her right arm around Tristan's waist, "Really? When did that happen?"

"I'm pretty sure it was nine years ago while we were chained to the booking bench at the police station." Tristan became very serious, "I think I fell in love with you the minute I laid eyes on you."

Sage ducked her head to nibble Tristan's ear. It was creamy soft and warm and each lick elicited a tiny groan of pleasure from the woman. Sage hated she needed to end the moment and finish dressing. Worse, it would be hours before she could get back into bed with Tristan.

"Mr. Matthews is waiting downstairs for us," Sage murmured as she stole several more suckles of Tristan's neck.

"Tell me again you're gonna be safe. Max is gonna be safe. We're all gonna be safe," Tristan plead with soft whimpers as she held fast to Sage.

"Everybody is going to be fine except Mr. Arnold," Sage promised when she finally released Tristan. "Come on, help me with my sling."

Tristan grabbed the butter soft leather sling from the nightstand. "This is kind of kinky."

"Only kind of? I'm hurt." Sage feigned a frown, "I had it designed by my Mom's dress maker. I was hoping it would make me look edgy. You know, like those eye patches do for pirates."

Tristan actually laughed as she slipped the support over Sage's shoulder, "It certainly is a twist on healthcare products. Hey, maybe you could start a line of medical supplies for sexy people."

"Oh yeah, that'd be great! Like leopard skin catheter bags…" Sage laughed.

"…rhinestone adult diapers…"

"…crystal insulin needles…"

"…Lamborghini wheelchairs…"

"…fur lined body bags…"

Tristan's smile faded and the color drained from her cheeks. "He's really dangerous, isn't he? This Arnold guy is looking to kill you for real, isn't he?"

Sage nodded. "I believe he is. But, he's not going to get the chance." She placed her index finger on Tristan's lips to stop the next question, "I promise I won't let him kill me. Or, anybody else, for that matter."

Sage took Tristan's hand and led her out of the bedroom and down to the loft. The room was filled with a long table of monitors and recording devices with a large red phone dead center. A hulking man sat opposite the screens making minor adjustments here and there. Behind him a large folding table was covered with folders and pictures. Mr. Matthews stood staring intently at the array before him.

"I told you we shouldn't let Batman redecorate," Tristan quipped.

Much to her surprise, Mr. Matthews looked up at her and laughed lightly. "Ms. Ayer, as always, a pleasure. If you two don't mind, I'd like to spend a few minutes reviewing the players and the game plan before Sage goes down to join her family for their celebratory meal."

"What are they celebrating?" Tristan asked.

Sage cleared her throat to answer, "Your capture, sweetheart."

"Oh," Tristan kept a firm grip on Sage's hand.

"Let's get started then." Mr. Matthews pointed to the burly man, "Over by the surveillance equipment is Chester . He's been with my security team for fifteen years. He's one of my most senior members. He'll be guarding you, Tristan, as well as helping you to detect anything which might lead us to Mr. Arnold."

"Hi Chet," Tristan waved.

"It's Chester , ma'am." He replied coldly without taking his eyes of the screens.

"Charming," Sage ground out.

"There is additional security in the form an FBI agent outside the door as an added precaution." Mr. Matthews began pointed to the pictures. "We have pictures and bio's of our likely suspects; all the people who knew what the purpose of the interview was." He leaned over and pushed the pictures of the Sebastian family women into a loose pile away from the men. "You seem fairly certain Mr. Arnold is a man?"

"He's a guy. Effeminate but a guy," Tristan confirmed as she stepped closer to the photo line up.

"I think it is safe to move J. Granville into the non suspect pile." Mr. Matthews suggested as he placed the picture on top of the pile of women's pictures. "If it was him, he would have gotten the job done the first time. I've know J. Granville for fifty years and he does not make mistakes with the execution of his plans."

Tristan swallowed hard at the description. She realized she had taken the old man too lightly all these years. He was powerful enough to cause her serious harm if he had wanted to. She understood she was very lucky he considered her little more than a pest.

"That leaves us with the final five; Gareth, Cade, Child-Hassam, Phil, and Greg. Ms. Ayer, do you know who Phil and Greg are?"

"I wouldn't be much of a reporter if I didn't know Child-Hassam's lover…,"

Mr. Matthews shook his head no. "They are married Mr. Ayer. Twenty fifth same sex couple in the Commonwealth to do so."

Tristan blushed slightly at her misstep, "I did know that. Sorry for being glib. And, Greg is the Director of Properties for the Sebastian's private homes and Brook's SO."

Mr. Matthews nodded.

"Wait," Sage stepped closer scanning the remaining pictures and folders. "What about Endicott?"

Mr. Matthews seemed somewhat flustered as he riffled through folders until he found the picture. "I'm sure he didn't even know what state he was in never mind what you were doing that afternoon."

Sage took the picture and stared at it for a long time. She had never seen an image of Endicott before. The only reason she even knew he existed was the occasion mention of him as the 'insane son from a previous marriage to an insane first wife' in biographical profiles of J. Granville. Now, before her eyes, she held a picture of the monster responsible for creating her life in the most despicable way possible.

Her stomach turned slightly when she noticed how much she looked like him. Tall but narrow frame, black Irish complexion, brooding and angular features marked both of them. There could be no denying her kinship to this man.

"Hey," Tristan whispered softly as she took the picture from Sage, "you've got more important things to think about tonight. This lunatic is unreachable. Trust me; I tried to get to him a few years ago. No info goes in and no info gets out. He doesn't even watch television. He just sits around in his boxers all day and half the night listening to Pablo Cruise."

Sage stared at Tristan with a mixture of horror and awe at the depth of knowledge the reporter had gathered about all the Sebastians.

"It's safe to put his picture in the other pile. He can't hurt anybody, Sage. He's just a crazy old man locked away from the world."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

Mr. Matthews was retrieved his cell phone from his suit coat pocket as the women spoke. He hit two numbers and waited, somewhat impatiently drumming his fingers on the table, for a connection.

"Todd? Yes, I want you to double check on Endicott. Somebody tried to make contact with him in the last thirty six months or so and I don't have a damn report about it. Toss his room! If he has cell or land line or computer access I want to know every single outgoing and incoming message made in the last six years," Matthews was growing flushed with his instructions. "And, God help everybody down if he got off the ground at any point. I don't care if it was only a three minute stroll to the corner for an ice cream cone with a full military police escort! Take care of this, immediately!"

Mr. Matthews snapped his phone shut without waiting for a reply. He took two deep breaths to calm himself but shook his head when it didn't work. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small vial and shook a tiny white pill into his palm. He quickly placed it under his tongue.

"Oh cripes, do we need to call 911?" Tristan blurted out.

Chester didn't leave his spot by the monitors to shout over the answer, "Give him a minute. Let the Nitro do its job."

"Mr. Matthews why don't you sit…,"

He interrupted Sage to direct, "No, we're running behind schedule. Tristan, you're here with Chester . The minute you think you've got something pick up the red phone. It connects directly to me, Agent Rice, the FBI coordinator, and Detective Hollis, Boston PD. They'll be monitoring from the security office. It will go directly to conference call with my cell and we can discuss what you've got and if it is enough with which to move."

"I just have one question." Tristan waited for his nod of approval before asking, "Your security radios heard him threaten me so can't you do a voice comparison or something?"

"I wish it were that easy. Chester and I heard the threat but there was no recording device to capture it. And, the quality of the transmission was garbled. We did understand something about 'up the ass with a broom handle' and 'the boy dies.' It was barely enough to support a restraining order with just a little coaxing," Mr. Matthews allowed.

"So, I'm all you got to catch this guy?" Tristan didn't need to see his nod to know her answer.

The silence ensued until Mr. Matthew took a deep breath, "Sage, we have a dinner to get through. Ms. Ayer, we'll try to get the conversation rolling around enough to give an ample sampling of the suspects. If you take my arm, Sage, we'll be on our way."

"Be careful," Tristan whispered as she relinquished her grip on Sage.

Sage gave a reassuring smile, "Don't worry. In a couple of hours, this is all going be over. I promise."

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," Tristan thought to herself as she watched the pair walk out the door.

Chapter 19

Sage and Mr. Matthews entered the spacious dinning room together. Mr. Matthews stopped just inside the door to obtain a drink at the courtesy bar. Sage noticed J. Granville was already leaning there in deep conversation with a clearly drunken Cade.

Sage decided to skip that particular family drama and jump directly into the main event. She easily found Simone in the center of the room surrounded by most of her children. Without missing a step, Sage made her way toward the only woman she had ever called mother.

"Darling, I was beginning to worry you'd miss our dinner entirely," Simone greeted her as Sage crossed the room.

"Are you sure you're up to this evening?" Sage questioned when she heard the sight slur of Simone's words.

Brook placed a steadying hand to Simone's elbow. "Sage has a point, Mom. You've been through an awful lot the last few days. Maybe you should go to the suite and rest. I can bring your meal to you. The three of us can have a nice, quiet dinner together."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm feeling the best I have in years. Perhaps, I should get tackled more often," Simone stated as evenly as she could before sipping a pale, bubbly drink from the Champaign flute in her hand.

"Now, Mom…," Phil began to speak.

"God, I hate it when he calls me that. He's nearly as old as I am," Simone muttered into Sage's ear when they embraced hello.

Sage chuckled softly. Simone was quite funny. As a child, Sage never grasped Simone's humor. As a teen, Sage felt she was the brunt of her mother's jokes. However, as an adult, Sage finally appreciated the dry sarcasm Simone lightly sprinkled into all of her exchanges.

"…the doctor gave very specific instructions not to overdue. Yet, here you are holding court not two full days after such a violent assault. And, those pills you're taking should not be mixed with alcohol of any kind. Why don't you let me get you a cranberry juice instead?"

As the man prattled on and on, Child-Hassam seemed to become more and more restless. He focused his gaze on the glass in his own hand. It did little to stop his shifting from foot to foot. A light flush to his cheeks hinted at his growing discomfort with the conversation.

"Give it a rest, will you?" He finally hissed in a stage whisper to his husband.

"I'm just saying," Phil defended.

"Yes, you're always just saying," Child-Hassam complained. "Why not try saying nothing for a change? You might enjoy the experience. God knows, I'd enjoy the quiet."

- - -

"Ouch! Looks like Child-Hassam Spencer Sebastian is sleeping on the couch tonight," Tristan chuckled as she read the man's full name from the bio provided on the photo array Mr. Matthews left behind. "Rule #1 of relationships is never fight in public. Rule #2 is to never embarrass your lover in front of your family or friends."

Chester merely grunted.

Tristan let him stare at the monitors while she scribbled a note on the back of Child-Hassam's picture. "He's not the guy. His voice is too deep. And, Phil isn't the guy either," she flipped through the pile of pictures until she found his and started to write on the back. "He has a very California accent. I'm guessing San Francisco ."

"Now there's a shock," Chester deadpanned.

- - -

"Mom, why not sit down at the table while we're waiting? Dad and Cade will be over in a few minutes. At least, I think they will," Gareth seemed flustered.

"You okay?" Sage asked Gareth as Simone followed Brook's lead to the banquet table.

The portly man mopped his brow with a starched handkerchief before answering, "No, I'm not okay. I'm worried; really worried. I'm not entirely sure the cops figured everything out right. Between you and me, things don't add up."

"Like what?" Sage asked trying to keep relief out of her voice. If Gareth was questioning the cover story then it was highly unlikely he'd be the perpetrator.

"If Tristan was solely responsible then she never would have called in a warning to me. She'd certainly never race into the ballroom to just tackle Mom. What would be the point of that? And, why would she invent such a cock and bull story? She's a writer for Pete's sake. She'd have a better story!"

- - -

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Gareth Revere Sebastian! I'm not taking you off the suspect list simply because of that statement alone but it certainly doesn't hurt your case any in my book." Tristan smiled broadly, "You know, Chester , the difference between the rich and the poor has got to be middle names. Poor people usually give their kids one fucked up name but the rich keep piling on painfully archaic non de plumes, so to speak…"

- - -

"…I sent my wife and kids away for a while. In case this isn't over, I want them to be safe."

"You're a good man, Gareth," Sage stated with confidence in her older brother as he turned to follow their mother to the table.

Mr. Matthews stepped up next to Sage. He pulled in close to speak to her. All audio to the loft clicked into silence. They huddled for a few moments before breaking apart with a peck on the cheek. Sparing a brief glance to the camera, Mr. Matthews hurried out of the room. Sage turned slightly to cover her fidgety movements with her sling and the sound returned.

- - -

"Why couldn't we hear anything?" Tristan asked with rising alarm. "What just happened?"

Chester shook his head. His fingers worked several switches before he guessed at the problem, "He shut off her mic."

Tristan rolled her eyes, "I figured that part out myself. My question is why would he do that?"

As if to answer, the red phone rang.

"What's going on?" Tristan grabbed the receiver and nearly shouted her question.

"Tristan, it's almost over," Mr. Matthews spoke with authority. "I'm heading down to the sanitarium with Agent Rice. It seems we underestimated Endicott. They found a cell phone with your number on speed dial when they searched his room."

"That's unbelievable," Tristan managed to say around her surprise. "How did he get a cell phone into the hospital? How did he find me? How…?"

Mr. Matthews snorted a laugh, "I'll be sure to ask him those questions in that order. Sage and J. Granville know where I'm off to. The Sebastians are going to finish their celebration and then Sage will be up to see you. We'll hold off on any announcement until we're done questioning Endicott. I want this wrapped up in a tight little package before saying anything official. Put Chester on the phone, please. I'll have him shut down surveillance for tonight and clear out of the loft. His crew can come back for the equipment tomorrow." Mr. Matthews took a deep breath, "Try to relax, Tristan. We have a few more details to piece together but you and Max are safe."

"And, Sage too," Tristan added before handing the phone to Chester .

Tristan ignored the grunts and snorts that passed for Chester 's end of the conversation. She watched the screens flickering images of Sage with her family around the table. Well, most of her family. Cade had lingered at the bar long after J. Granville had walked away. The drunken brother was slowly staggering to the table with a drink in each hand. He stumbled slightly but managed to get his ass into a chair without falling over.

Chester hung up the phone. He unplugged it and got up to put it back into the box it arrived in.

- - -

"Dad, do you want me to get you a drink?" Brook asked her father as she stood to head to the bar.

Before he could answer, Cade spoke up. "I would appreciate another shot."

"You've had your fill," Child-Hassam cautioned. "You need to eat something and have some coffee before you head home to Karen."

- - -

"Hang on, Chester ," Tristan stayed his hand on the monitor. "Leave this one and the speaker. I want to hear about Sage's last girlfriend; Karen the hasbien."

Chester shrugged and stepped back. He started to shut down the rest of the equipment.

- - -

"Boys…," Simone started to caution the twins.

"Oh, here we go again with St. Hassam, our own patron of abstinence," Cade quipped. "I liked you much better when you were the patron saint of celibacy."

Child-Hassam flinched slightly before replying, "Funny, I don't ever remember you liking me."

"Perhaps, you're right…," Cade's tone started to rise.

Simone began again, "Boys…,"

"Listen to your mother," J. Granville interrupted.

"…there never was much to like about you…,"

"I must insist you stop…," Simone struggled to get their attention.

"…what with you being a fudge packer…,"

Phil stood up, knocking his chair over, "Now, you listen here you little twerp! You don't get to talk to my husband like that…,"

"Phil, sit down and shut up for once!" Child-Hassam bellowed.

"…this is absolutely ridiculous!" Simone was breathless.

"STOP!" Gareth's shout was ignored.

"Let's all calm down," Brook tried to sooth the tension with gentle hand gestures as well as her words.

Sage gave a snort, "That's not going to happen."

"SAGE!" Simone admonished.

"Mom, Sage isn't the problem here," Brook defended.

"Ha, that's a big fat lie," Cade shrieked with macabre amusement.

- - -

There was something familiar about Cade's voice. Tristan shuffled through the photographs once more. She pulled Cade's free as she heard Chester open the door to dismiss the FBI guy.

"Cade Saratoga Sebastian," Tristan murmured the name. " Saratoga …,"

- - -

"You need to dial it back, man," Greg warned. "Don't even think about talking to Brook the way you talk to…,"

"…Greg, don't…," Brook tried to stop him.

Phil's simmering anger burst forth at Child-Hassam, "See, that's how you should stick up for me with your hideous family! A real man…,"

"…Cade, don't say it!" Gareth stated pointedly as he saw his younger brother's lips curl into an evil smile.

"That's the problem, Phyllis. St. Hassam ain't no man. If you want big balls ramming you up the ass then you've got to go to the family stud; Sage! At least, that's what my wife tells me."

"You son of a…," Sage hissed.

Simone sighed, "…that's right, it all comes back to me…,"

Cade let out a high pitched cackle of a laugh, "Excellent banter!"

- - -

"Oh God, it's not Endicott," Tristan gasped as she sat back from the screen.

"It certainly isn't," Chester agreed.

Tristan turned her head in time to see the hulking man remove a gun from the box on the table.

"But, Mr. Matthews said he trusted you. You've worked together for years," she babbled in disbelief. She was unable to move out of her chair with a gun pointed at her.

Chester smirked as he strolled within arm's length of her. "I've known Matthews as long as I've known Cade. Matthews is a poor stiff and Cade is a rich shit. Do you know what the difference is between a poor stiff and a rich shit, Tristan?"

Tristan couldn't find the words so she shook her head no.

"The rich pay better!"

To emphasize the last syllable, Chester brought the butt of the gun down hard on Tristan's temple. The force knocked her body out of the chair and all conscious thought out of her head.

Chapter 20

Sage let herself in to her darkened loft. Soft lights glowed from the electrical power strips against the polished floor. All the monitors were off save one. It continued to display the dining room the Sebastians had only recently vacated.

Sage cringed thinking Tristan watched the ugly arguments the family engaged in prior to their meal. Cade left at his father's request. Phil stormed out sometime before that. Greg was going to whisk Brook away but stayed when Simone pleaded for them to remain, as a couple, as family.

"Hope Tristan went to bed long before the food was served," Sage muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

She pushed the door open and found the room to be pitch black. No lights shining in from the harbor meant the heavy drapes were drawn. The alarm clock on the night stand was dark as well. Sage blinked trying to adjust her eyes to the lack of light. Just as she was starting make out the form of a body on her bed, the track lights clicked on with full force; momentarily blinding her.

"What the…," was all she could gasp when her shirt front was grabbed by two strong hands.

A fist slammed into her mouth and snapped her head back. Her body was released and allowed to follow the fall to the floor. Sage's right hand instinctively went to her wounded mouth but her assailant had other plans. Her arm was snagged in a tight grip and she was dragged across the floor. A cold metal handcuff snapped around her wrist and pulled up and back to be locked to something behind her. Something very heavy. Sage's struggle to clear her senses was aided by a shrill laugh.

"Cade," she hissed.

The kick to her ribs was from a heavy boot. She knew it was delivered by whatever thug Cade hired. Cade was no heavy weight. Sage shook her head to focus her blurry vision. When she saw the scene before her she wished she hadn't made the effort.

Cade was sitting on the foot of her bed facing her. Chester , Mr. Matthews' trusted assistant, was standing over Sage with a grin plastered on his face. But, it was Tristan's position which made Sage futilely tug on her chained wrist.

Tristan's head and shoulders were hanging over the edge at the foot of the bed. Her wrists were bound to the bed frame with handcuffs. The cut on her forehead was large and purpling but had stopped bleeding. Anybody in her position would be crying but Tristan wasn't. She appeared resigned to her fate and that frightened Sage the most.

"Knock it off," Chester kicked at Sage's thigh. "Stop fidgeting."

"Don't hurt her," Tristan's warning resonated low and deep.

Cade chuckled. "Oooh, true love! Ain't it sweet? Tristy, I think you have enough to worry about without adding Sage to your list." Cade reached over and began to kneed Tristan's breast, "After all, you're about to be raped and that idiot kid of yours is gonna get drowned."

"So help me, Cade, if you touch either of them," Sage's threat was cut off by a solid kick to the gut.

"DON'T!" Tristan screamed and fought against her restraints to no avail. Another kick was quickly delivered to a gagging Sage's midsection.

"Easy Chester , I want my niece to be able to assist with Tristan's violation so don't incapacitate her too much."

"What the fuck…," Sage coughed hard on the last word. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Cade got up from the bed and squatted down next to Sage. He brushed the hair back out of her eyes and gave a sad smile. He whispered to her, "I need you to help me. My wife tells me you were the best lover she ever had. I'm just a joke in the sack compared to you. And, she's not the only one who thinks so." Cade used his thumb to wipe some of the blood from Sage's mouth. "I've fucked every one of your conquests and they all told me the same thing. 'Sage was amazing.' Apparently, you've even got a prosthetic dick which makes my real deal look like limp linguine."

"You need help, Cade," Sage tried to reason with him.

"Yes, I do! I'm so glad you're on board with this. I should have appealed to your ego sooner." Cade smiled broadly, "So, here's the plan. I'm going to make my moves on Tristan. She, I should mention, hasn't had the pleasure of me pleasuring her yet. And, you are going to talk me through the places I don't measure up, so to speak."

Sage shook her head no slowly. Her lips were forming the words to refuse when Cade interrupted her.

"It's either going to be me raping your babe or Chester ; your choice. Pick me and it happens the way you think she'd most like it. Pick Chester or don't pick at all and it will be brutal, bloody and fatal."

"Sage…," Tristan started to speak but was silenced with a backhanded slap from Cade.

"You just shut up or I'll duck tape that mouth closed until I need it!" Cade's voice sounded a little less controlled.

Sage watched Tristan's head roll with the hit. Blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. Tristan glared at Cade but kept silent. Sage waited for Tristan to spare her a look but there was none. Sage would be on her own with what to do next.

"Cade, you've left me with no options here. I don't want Tristan hurt or killed. If I do this for you will you let us walk away with our lives?" Sage asked in a calmer voice than she guessed she could muster.

"You'll do it and then I'll fucking cut your damned head off, dyke!" Chester emphasized his anger with another heavy boot kick to Sage's ribs. "All you'll get for an option is a quick easy slice or a hacking multiple chop job to separate your head from your shoulders."

Cade frowned deeply. He raised his hand to hold Chester 's beating but the beefy man kept kicking. Cade scowled when he lost his patience. He pulled the gun out of his coat pocket and fired once. Chester hit the floor with a large hole in the middle of his forehead.

"Him being dead doesn't change anything, Sage. I can hurt Tristan just as much, if not more than, old Chester could have. So, will you assist me or am I going to have to kill Tristan fucking?" Cade asked calmly.

"I'll help you," Sage could barely force out the words.

Tristan focused on Sage. There was hatred in her eyes. Her lips sneered before she spit at her beaten lover.

"I'd rather he kill me! Don't do this, Sage. Life isn't worth living if we have to remember you helping him rape me tonight."

"Didn't I say to shut up!"

Cade was about to swing at Tristan again when Sage spoke up, "You don't need to hit her. There's a better way to quiet her down."

Cade turned slightly and cocked his head to the left, "I usually save blow jobs for the clean up."

Sage felt her stomach lurk but continued talking. "If she's enjoying what you do she won't be able to say much more than 'harder' and 'please.' Just ignore whatever else she says."

"That's what you think! You fucking two faced bitch!"

Cade grinned. "We should have had this conversation years ago. But, better late than never, right?"

Sage nodded agreement. She took a deep breath to try to slow her racing heart beat. She decided she would not look at Tristan again until she figured a way out of their nightmare.

She corrected her own thoughts, "If there is a way out of this horror show."

Cades stood and kicked his shoes off. He slipped on arm out of his suit coat sleeve but his other hand still held the gun. Kneeling again, he wrapped Sage's useless hand around the handle. Sage suppressed a wince of pain the weight of the gun caused her shoulder.

"You hold that for me. If Chester moves again then shoot him, okay?" Cade asked in all seriousness.

"Sure," Sage agreed and began to clench and unclench her fingers around the gun butt.

Cades stood again. He quickly stripped himself of his remaining clothes. His cock began to bob in excitement. He took it in hand and stroked the length of it firming it up.

"Do you think I should shove it in her mouth first?" He asked like an athlete would ask a coach about a play.

Sage swallowed down her revulsion at the question. "No, women don't really enjoy any sudden shoving into any opening. You have to warm her up a little." Sage's cheeks flushed in pain as her fingers worked to hold the gun. "There're some movies in the cabinet under the TV. Pop one into the DVD. It doesn't matter which one. They're all pretty dirty."

Cade gave a thumb's up and hurried over to the entertainment console. Sage gathered enough confidence to sneak a glance at Tristan. The woman's eyes were shut. Tears were making their way down her forehead. Small shudders shook her bound body. But, to her credit, Tristan wasn't sobbing uncontrollably or begging.

The noise of an orgy on the TV screen brought Sage's attention back to Cade. He was stock still watching the images flashing across the screen. His penis was fully erect and weeping. Sage debated whether to let him come right there or hurry him along to where she needed him to be.

"Okay, Cade," Sage tried to sound helpful. "Are you ready to do this or what?"

"Fucking bitch!" Tristan's eyes snapped open as she shouted but Sage would not look back at her. "I'm going to hate you forever!"

"If this doesn't work to shut her trap then I'm going to have to cut her tongue out," Cade promised as he walked back to the bed.

"Understood," Sage replied. "Now, you need to tell me a couple of things. Are her legs tied down?"

"Yep! And, they're staying that way. I don't trust you, Sage. I'm not giving either of you any slack with your chains."

"Again, understood. Do you have enough room to…work…comfortably or do you need to spread her further?"

"Nope."

"Fucking assholes," Tristan bitterly hissed.

"Okay, good. Hop up on the bed between her legs." Sage thought she might vomit but sucked in another deep breath. "Keep your body off of her except for your hands. Let them gently caress her outer thigh."

"Should I pull her all the way back on the bed?"

"No," Sage stated firmly with her eyes locked on Tristan's. "She's perfect right where she is."

Tristan swallowed hard when she saw the tears on Sage's cheeks. Tristan's anger was fleeing and fear was flooding into its place. She was about to be used in front of her lover, at her lover's directions. It would be a violation of both her body and her heart. She closed her eyes once more trying to hide from the inevitable.

"No, look at me," Sage coaxed and two sets of eyes focused on her. "Cade, bring your right hand to her center and use two fingers to stroke her. Keep the same rhythm you're using with your left hand."

Sage saw Tristan's body stiffen. "Too hard. Lighten up. Gentle. Keep to the outside."

Cade dropped his gaze to watch the body which was beginning to squirm below him. He mistook the action for arousal and grinned. He kept his hands moving in unison which warmed Tristan's clammy skin.

He let out a deep sigh with a pleasant memory. "You know, history really does repeat itself. I watched Endicott and Brook the night you were conceived, Sage. Of course, Endicott beat Brook into submission. He knocked that girl senseless. Bet she doesn't even remember the climax. Or, should I say climaxes." Cade snorted a laugh but it sounded grim. "He paid me to stand look out. Man, he was able to keep it going all night. Even gave me a crack at her. Hey, maybe I'm your father, Sage! Ha ha, don't worry about that. I did her from behind. Should we do this one that way too?"

Sage shook her head before finding her voice, "No. You said you wanted to learn my best moves and that ain't one of them."

"Don't underestimate yourself, honey. My wife tells me you are the queen of anal drilling."

"She lied to you. I never did that to her," Sage stated.

Cade's hands stopped. Another scowl passed over his features. He moved in closer to Tristan. His thick red erection poised at the entrance to her body.

"Don't even try to lie to me, Sage," he ground out. "Now, I'm gonna stick it in her. Any recommendations?"

Sage didn't answer. Tristan let out a painful cry when Cade planted himself between her spread legs. He began pumping back and forth with forceful slaps of flesh against flesh.

Sage drew her knees up under Tristan's watchful but blank, open mouth stare. Sage managed to get one knee under her left arm. Slowly, she moved the wounded appendage so the gun was pointed directly at the bed. She raised her knee a bit higher to point the barrel up and used every fiber of her will power to urge her index finger over the trigger.

"She's ready to come. Pull her all the back onto the bed now! NOW!" Sage barked the command.

Cade put both hands on Tristan's shoulders and dragged her completely under him. He howled in satisfaction when his entire shafted slammed into Tristan's pussy. He relentlessly drove deeper into his captive while his juice shot free of his throbbing cock.

"Oh ya, oh ya, oh ya! Who's the best fucker in town now, baby?"

"Cade," Sage spoke just loud enough to be heard over Tristan's cries.

"Damn straight," Cade agreed as he lifted his head up.

The last thing he saw was the light reflecting off the barrel of the gun. He never heard the bang or felt the bullet rip through his brain.

* * *

April 15, 2009

Sage enjoyed the feeling of the cold glass cradled in her left hand. It was about the only thing she was enjoying on this particular night. The ICA was packed with people attending the opening night of her exhibit. It was initially intended to be a retrospective of her work because conventional wisdom strongly indicated she would never hold a chisel again. She certainly believed she had sculpted her last stone.

Everything changed when she killed Cade with her left hand.

"Sage, it is magnificent! What a wonderful night," Simone said before kissing each of Sage's cheeks.

J. Granville stood stoically behind his wife with a hand resting on her hip. It struck Sage at that moment how much her father had aged in the last year. His hair line had receded at a rapid rate. Once twinkling blue eyes had dimmed behind heavy bags from sleepless nights. His broad shoulders which had seemed able to carry the world were stooping slightly lower each day. He was suffering and Sage had no words to ease his hurt.

"Thanks for coming," Sage managed to say without a stutter. "I hate these parties. Rather be home working."

"Don't be silly," J. Granville tried to perk up her mood. "You need to see how much people respect your art."

"More important, you need to see how much people will pay for your art," Brook chimed in from behind.

Sage shifted from foot to foot with her discomfort. She knew her mother bought out her last show. It had taken the better part of a week to make the woman promise not to do the same thing this time. Sage was fairly certain this time she would need as many moving vans to pack up her work at the end of the show as she did for the beginning.

"Don't embarrass her, Brook," Greg warned with a smile. "Unless you don't want her to sculpt something new for you, 'cause there is nothing left to buy tonight."

"What?" Sage asked in disbelief.

"You heard me," Greg grinned. "It's a sell out. Every piece was spoken for in the first twenty minutes. Maybe you'll make something new as a wedding present for us in July?"

Sage smiled, "Just tell me how big you want it."

Sage let her family chat around her. It was one of the few truly happy conversations they shared in the last ten months. They were one more step closer to normal. She looked around the crowd and spotted Child-Hassam and Phil arguing.

"Guess everything is back to normal for them too," she thought sadly to herself.

A cluster of security officers by the front door caught her attention. Gareth was already hurrying over to investigate the ruckus. She decided to join him.

Pushing her glass into Brook's hand, she asked, "Could you hold this for me?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Walking through the crowd, Sage had to nod thanks and side step well meaning hand shakers. The room seemed to double in size with the crowd. When she was within earshot of the door, she heard a familiar voice.

"…I told you, I'm an invited guest. I just lost the invite."

"She's with me," Sage called over while she was still a few feet away.

Gareth loosened his tie before addressing her, "Sage, this really isn't a good idea. The litigation is ongoing…,"

"I don't care. I invited her."

Sage muscled into the crowd of gray suited guards. At the center of the huddle, a defiant Tristan stood. She had both hands on her hips and was tapping her foot impatiently.

"I told you I was invited."

"But, she's not on the list," the chief of security defended to Sage.

"What? Now, I'm invisible! Over here buddy, talk to me," Tristan demanded.

Sage couldn't hold back her grin. "It's okay. She really is with me."

Sage offered her hand to Tristan and the woman accepted it. The two walked away from the confused security detail. Neither of them looked back nor provided any further explanation.

"I don't think you'd come," Sage hushed as she lead Tristan into an adjacent, deserted gallery.

"I almost didn't. An hour ago I was in yoga class."

Sage stared at the face she missed for ten long months. After the attack, Tristan walked out of Sage's life as soon as she was discharged from the hospital. Emails, letters, and phone calls all went unanswered. The only contact Tristan initiated between herself and the Sebastian family was a lawsuit. The action wasn't enough to deter Sage. She pressed on with weekly invitations to lunch at the finest restaurants in Boston . Sage attended everyone and waited alone.

"What made you change your mind?" Sage raised her left hand and gently stroked the curve of Tristan's neck.

Tristan pulled away from the contact, "Got to move slow. I'm still not sure I should be here." Tristan took a moment to steady her emotions. "I'm pretty much a basket case, Sage. Can't work, sleep, or eat. I can't even watch television because loud voices and gun fire freak me out. But, I also haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

"In a good way or a bad way," Sage needed to know the truth.

Tristan shrugged. "Both, I guess. I meant it, Sage. I really would have rather died than to live with such a horrible memory. The only thing keeping me from killing myself is the lawsuit. I need to make sure Max gets as much money out of your family as possible. Then, I think, I can rest."

Sage was devastated. "But, I don't want you to die. Please, Tristan, what happened doesn't have to be the end of your life."

"It doesn't matter what you want, Sage. Just like it didn't matter what I wanted. I'm at the end of my rope."

"So, you're just gonna let go. Again!" Sage felt her fear fueling her anger.

"What?" Tristan was stunned at the accusation. "When have I ever given up?"

Sage began to list off with her fingers keeping score, "You gave up when Mr. Arnold showed you an easy way out of poverty. You gave up when we fell off the building. You gave up when my mother outsmarted you at your own game. You gave up Max…,"

"That's a low blow," Tristan flinched.

"…and you gave up on me. Why won't you fight for us? You know, I was only trying to find the best, worst solution in the worst, worst situation. Why can't you be angry enough to want to stay alive?"

Tears filled Tristan's eyes, "Because it hurts too damn much!"

Sage shook her head, "It only hurts so much because you're trying to deal with it alone. Tristan, come back to me. We can start over. We can make a life with Max together. Please, don't give up again."

"I don't know, Sage. I really don't know. Part of me wants you to sweep me off my feet and live happily ever after." Tristan frowned as her thoughts turned dark again, "Another part of me hates you for saving us."

The pair was silent as they waited, watching the other.

"I do love you, Sage. I just don't know if love is going to be enough."

"Are you willing to try?"

"I guess that's why I came here tonight," Tristan answered.

the end

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