Hostage of the Heart

For Better or Worse (Thirty-Four)

Okay, now this is officially the longest chapter yet. Couldn't bear to break it up. Noticed that HOTH had reached 100,000 clicks and wanted to thank you all so much for reading this far, for voting and every comment. They are so very much appreciated as are you. So, for better or worse, here's the next chapter ;-) <3

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Warm water neared the top of the tub as Piper sat on the toilet lid staring at the yellow legal pad, its top page blank except for the word 'dear'. Over the last few minutes it was the only word she could think of. She wasn't certain what to say and whom to say it to. These were supposed to be her final thoughts yet her brain seemed to be running on empty.

Nibbling her bottom lip, she tapped the pen to the page while fatigue brought on by the events of the last few hours along with the medication chased with alcohol seeped into her. Dear. She sighed, tossing the pad and pen on the floor. Screw it. That was all she had, which actually fit as the page was as empty as she felt.

Standing on heavy legs, she shuffled toward the tub, bending over to operate the knobs until the water ceased to run. Jacket zipped as far as it would go, she removed her arms from the sleeves just long enough to turn it so that the zipper was in the back. Bottle picked up from the tub's edge, Piper took a few tiny sips while gazing toward the discarded legal pad. A thought popping up, she put the brandy down and snatched up the pad and pen. Although her handwriting was a touch unsteady she managed to commit the thought to the page.

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Dear Desiree,

I regret causing you so much pain, but I'll never regret having the opportunity to fall in love with you. I hope yours is a brilliant life. You deserve the world. Be happy, shorty.

--Piper
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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

So many happy images of their family neatly arranged within the protective sleeves of the thick photo album. Family trips, birthdays, holidays, just because pictures...and now the patriarch was forever gone. Although Desiree would rather not think about it, she couldn't help but to imagine her father's body on a slab cooling inside a refrigerator in the hospital morgue. It made her want to curl underneath the covers and bawl until sleep decided to claim her, perhaps offering the gift of a dreamless night. 

Not being able to turn another page, she shut the album and placed it on the nightstand as someone knocked on the door. Hoping that it wasn't another extended family member come to smother her with hugs, kisses and sentences meant to bring comfort such as 'he's in a better place now', Desiree called out for them to enter, too late realizing she could have pretended to be asleep.

Richie's head popping into the room, he offered the tiniest smile possible. "Hey, sis, that Detective Baldwin is here. Wants to speak with us. Since family is scattered throughout the house we're meeting in the backyard. Wanna walk with me?" When asked why Michaela was there he shrugged. "I'm not sure. She apologized for calling so late, but whatever it is, she didn't wanna wait until morning."

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Desiree slipped into her shoes, swallowed the contents of a short glass and headed toward him. After he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she slipped one around his lower back as they walked in the direction of the backyard without making conversation.  They stopped once to briefly speak with an uncle-in-law who had obviously visited the mini bar a few times as his speech was slurred and although pulling both into his embrace, he hugged his niece a little bit too long, a bourbon flavored wet kiss left on the side of her neck.

While grimacing, Desiree used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe at her neck, still doing so once she and her brother stepped through the sliding glass door. Despite the sun having gone down hours ago, Michaela and Sandra sat at the round patio table underneath a wide umbrella. Seconds after spotting her, the detective jumped up from the chair and walked toward her, wrapping Desiree in an affectionate hug without saying anything, which Desiree was grateful for as she didn't believe she could take any further verbal sympathy. 

Once she released her, Michaela indicated for the siblings to occupy the remaining chairs at the table. All four seated, she explained that what she had to share with them could have waited, but she couldn't bear to sleep on it. A tape recorder removed from a jacket pocket, she placed it before her. The other three took notice of it, but none of them chose to comment or inquire.

"Mrs. Love, how much if anything have you learned about your husband's involvement with Piper Redding?"

A damp handkerchief already clutched in her hand, Sandra's eyes stung as she thought about what her youngest daughter shared with her at the hospital while Richard was in surgery. She hadn't a clue about his gambling addiction and wondered more than a handful of times on that night how she could have been so clueless. She also wondered why he was so intent on concealing it from her as he should have understood how much she loved him and would have done anything and everything to get him help.

"I know," Sandra softly spoke. "Richard received a visit from Emily Gibson, although he didn't know it was her at the time, and accepted money in exchange for giving Piper Redding the longest sentence possible." She glanced toward her daughter. "Desiree admitted keeping that information from her, keeping a disc Emily recorded her confession on a secret in order to protect Richard and Piper from one another." Tears falling, she used the handkerchief to dab at her cheeks. "Unfortunately, she found out and went after my husband anyway. I remember her standing off to the side while the paramedics tried to save him." Her hand tightened around the handkerchief. "That woman killed my husband."

"Mrs. Love," warm, dark eyes gazed toward the other woman, "I don't mean to be rude. I'm an officer not a doctor, but your husband suffered a heart attack. Piper didn't actually do anything to him." Michaela wasn't surprised when Sandra sent her a glare.

"She facilitated his heart attack. If she hadn't berated him it never would have happened." She pointed toward the closed sliding glass doors. "My husband would be on the other side of those doors and I wouldn't have crying and sympathetic family members and friends throughout my house. Why is he in the morgue? Why are they here at this late hour? Because instead of moving on with her life, that woman who has caused so much damage already couldn't keep her ass away from my husband."

His sister's expression unreadable as she stared toward the table, Richie was unable to hide his shock over their mother's usage of foul language. In nineteen years he could recall the number of times he heard her swearing just using the fingers of one hand. Sandra was on the verge of ranting further when Desiree called out to her while raising a hand.

"Piper isn't the only one to blame, Mom," she quietly said. "In fact, there are quite a few people ahead of her including Dad."

Shock slipped onto Sandra's face within a millisecond. "How could you say that? I thought you were done with that woman and finally realized she was nothing but trouble?"

Desiree shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just...tired. It's been a very long day and I think I might have handled it so wrong when she stopped by the hospital earlier. She...Piper isn't the enemy. We don't exactly know what went on between she and Dad in his office, but she's not a terrible person. She's flawed--everyone on this planet is--she's been through a great deal and she blames him for some of it and I understand how she would."

Somehow the shock doubled. "You're going to sit there and defend her?"

She shrugged again while scrubbing a hand along her face. "No one in this is completely innocent. I really don't know how I feel about Piper, but I won't sit here and behave like she's the devil incarnate." Although I treated her that way at the hospital. Perhaps lack of proper sleep or grief was causing it to occur, but several emotions battled for control within Desiree. Love, hate, remorse and sorrow--and she felt each one in reference to Piper and her father.

Before Sandra could drum up a response, Michaela drew everyone's attention back to her by lightly clearing her throat and tapping the tape recorder. "Mrs. Love, Desiree, Richie, I think it's imperative that you listen to this tape." She went on to explain how Piper secretly recorded her conversation with Richard and that it didn't stop until she and another detective interviewed her after he was taken to the hospital. "The beginning of his heart attack is on here, so I understand that will be difficult to listen to, but I encourage you to allow me to hit the play button. I believe listening to their conversation might offer you some clarity."

Michaela watched the three gazing toward each other, seemingly having a conversation without words. A loud breath exhaled, Sandra asked her to play the tape. Confirming the volume was at an acceptable level, a thumb pressed the play button, moments later the slamming of a car sifting through the speaker. Following quick footsteps a doorbell rang, their stomachs collectively clenching when first Piper and then Richard began to speak, voices civil enough for two people who couldn't stand one another.

By the time the tape stopped Sandra and her children were experiencing various stages of crying with Richie exhibiting the most control. However, after mumbling a thank you to Michaela for stopping by to share that with them, he excused himself and hurried into the house, not responding when his mother said his name.

Just as she felt her mother's hand brush her back in comfort Desiree sat up straight and pointed toward the sliding glass door her brother forgot to shut after entering. "I have to...go. Need sleep." Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she leaned over to kiss her mother's cheek. "Mom, if you need anything just knock on my door." Standing, she shifted closer to Michaela, surprising her when she leaned down to deliver a brief side hug. "Thank you, Mickey. Needed to hear that. Goodnight." A goodnight whispered back to her, she headed inside, relieved to bypass all family members on her way back to her bedroom.

Seated on the side of the bed, she reached for the phone and rocked back and forth while trying not to break down...again. Who was she to cry after the way she treated Piper earlier? Desiree felt like the devil incarnate for her actions and most importantly what she acrimoniously told her. Blaming her, claiming she had to be content that Richard was dead and wishing that Piper too was dead. Disgust. That was a new emotion Desiree felt and it was solely directed at herself.

Lips parted, Desiree tasted the saltiness from tears as she opened her phone and called a number. Relaxing a fraction since it went to voicemail, she began to speak after a beep. "Hi, Piper. I know I might be the last person you'd expect to hear from, but I needed to call you," she paused, reminding herself to speak louder. "I was already dealing with uncertainty over how I treated you earlier, but then Michaela stopped by to share your recording.

"Piper, there aren't any words to express how sorry I am. This is the second time I've lost faith in you and I detest myself for that. I heard everything you told him, I heard the moment you broke down and it shattered my heart for you. I get that you didn't harm a hair on his head, even after he pulled a gun on you. You jumped into action when he started experiencing the symptoms of a heart attack and I heard the sweetness in your voice when you coached him to hang on. Heard the genuineness when you told him that you forgave him. Piper," voice cracking, Desiree's head hung, tears dropping onto the cotton material covering her thighs, "I handled this so wrong. I didn't trust you and for as long as I live I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for how I treated you.

"Have no right to ask you for forgiveness, but I would like to speak with you face to face, so I'll stop by in the morning. If you would prefer I didn't, please let me know. You could just send me a message. I lo...I hope you're okay, Piper. Talk soon I hope. Goodnight." Call ended and phone returned to the nightstand, Desiree grabbed a bottle and refilled her glass.

Before allowing herself to drink she grabbed the phone as something occurred to her and placed another call. She expected that too would go to voicemail, but the recipient answered during the second ring.

"Hey, Larisa. Where are you?" Head cocked, she listened, an unmistakable sound reaching her ear. "Is that an ambulance siren?"

"Yes, hold on." Less than thirty seconds later she spoke again. "Had to pull over so they could pass. Everything okay? I mean as okay as it can currently be?"

"It's okay. We have a full house. Need to fill you in about something. Are you on your way here?"

"No. Could you tell me in the morning?"

"Morning?"

"Yes, I've decided to get a hotel room for the night. I'm sorry. I just can't deal with the relatives tonight...especially weirdly affectionate Uncle Wayne."

That reminded Desiree she needed to cleanse her neck. "He's been drinking too."

"Oh, yes. Definitely getting a hotel room because if that guy hugs me and 'accidentally' squeezes a private body part with the mood I'm in I might just punch his lights out."

Her little sister was grateful for the chuckle those words caused. "I would pay to see that." Sobering, she nodded. "You get a good night's sleep and we'll see you tomorrow, Risa."

"Whatever it was, did you want to fill me in now?"

"No, it can wait. Drive safely, okay? I love you."

"Will do. I love you too, Desi."

Exchanging the phone for the glass, Desiree managed not to stop drinking until just about every drop slid down her throat.


<3 <3 <3 <3 <3


Teetering in front of the tub, which was nearly filled to the brim, she could barely keep her eyes open and felt like collapsing right where she stood, but that wouldn't do. She wouldn't be able to accomplish her goal from there. Not bothering to kick off her shoes, Piper carefully stepped into the tub, soon seated facing the faucet. Legs bent and pants rapidly saturated, she leaned back as though preparing to enjoy a bubble bath, however, there wasn't a bubble in sight and not an ounce of enjoyment within her.

"Dumpling, what are you doing?" a soft, concerned voice asked.

In slow motion Piper turned her head toward the right noticing Marie knelt before the tub, obviously not caring about the water sloshing out of it dampening the dress she wore. A ghost of a smile on her lips, she gazed into the lovely yet perpetually worried face she hadn't viewed in years except for the one photograph she managed to cling to during her years in prison.

"Hi, Mama." When the other woman repeated her inquiry Piper indicated the tub. "Taking a soak."

"With your clothes on?"