Manipulative Attraction

53. ⚛️ To Forgive Is Divine

Two agents stood by two unmarked SUV's, waiting to drive Shon and Carmen to their respective apartments.

Carmen handed a sleeping Fifi in her cage to Thorne. "Thorne, if your landlord gives you any trouble. I'll be happy to keep her."

Thorne nodded once then walked away. He it would take time for him to forgive her. He had yet to believe in the role she had to play.

Carmen watched him leave with sad eyes. Through her actions, she had ruined her budding relationship not only with Shon, but Thorne and Jeannie. She turned to Jeannie, trying to explain, "Jeannie, Demetri threatened my family, and I had no time to warn—"

"Carmen, I forgive you. You helped save us. That's all that matters."

With tears in her eyes, Carmen hugged her friend. When she pulled back, she asked, "Do you think Shon will ever come around?"

"He might, but you must give him time." Jeannie smirked, then said ruefully, "It's not like he hasn't deceived anyone, right?"

Carmen laughed through her tears. "I guess I should turn off his hot mic, huh?"

Jeannie nodded. "Yes, that's a start."

Carmen gave her a sly grin, "I guess I should turn Hawthorne's off, too."

"Carmen, you didn't," Jeannie said with a gasp.

"Only the one time. When he sat in his apartment, mumbling about how he'd messed up with you. I sent him a message and told him not to give up."

"That was...you?" Jeannie grabbed her new friend and hugged her hard. If it hadn't been for Carmen's intervention, Thorne and she might not be together. "I'll tell Thorne. He needs to know."

Carmen gave her a grateful nod. They both wished each other luck as Carmen entered an SUV. After a wave through the open window, the driver whisked away Carmen.

Shon came up once Carmen had left.

"Will you be okay?" Jeannie asked.

Shon nodded and wrapped her in a warm embrace. As he hugged her, Jeannie whispered. "Stay brave and forgive Carmen. She helped us."

Only when Thorne cleared his throat, did Shon let Jeannie go. He kissed her on the forehead and squeezed her hands "You're the best, Jeannie Jones. I know you need time to get over everything, but I hope you'll come back to us soon."

Thorne wrapped his hand around Jeannie's waist pulling her to him. "She will."

Shon nodded, looking at the couple with a slight smile before getting in the car. An agent closed his door, and the SUV sped from the curb.

They left The Source. With Dalton at the wheel of the van, they rode through the sleepy streets as the first of the sun's rays grew brighter in the sky.

Thorne and Jeannie silently held each other while Quentin and Dalton argued about music.

"I want to listen to soft rock," Quentin said, his hand on the dial.

Dalton slapped it off before Quentin could press the power button. "It's 80s hair bands or nothing, Mr. Cantaloupe Balls."

"Listen, dude—"

"Enough!" Thorne rumbled through clenched teeth.

Jeannie smiled. Pressing closer, she closed her eyes.

When the two of them entered her apartment, Thorne sat Fifi's cage in the living room. He opened the metal door, and the dog leapt on the couch, circling once before laying down to sleep.

Jeannie envied the dog her easy life. Whereas she had a secret—a relationship breaking secret—to divulge.

"Thorne, I need to tell you—"

"I know. I know everything, Jeannie."

"You do? Even that my mother—"

He drew her to him, silencing her with a searing kiss. When they broke apart, they looked deep into the other's eyes. There they found comfort and understanding.

They would make it.

"Look Jeannie, I know what your mother did to my parents. I don't want to talk about that now. We have such little time as it is." Thorne lifted Jeannie and carried her into the bedroom where they talked, dozed, and loved the entire day and into the night. At the end, they gathered their courage as the hour of their separation drew closer.

The agents blindfolded Jeannie as soon as she climbed into the back seat of the sedan.

No one spoke, not even the two agents flanking her on either side.

Jeannie thought back to her last moments with Thorne. Leaving him at the apartment was almost as hard as burying her father had been.

"I love you," she'd said through her tears. Tears which she'd refused to shed.

Thorne's eyes had been red-rimmed as he watched her get into the back of the sedan. An agent had stood ready for action by the open door, marking Thorne with a wary eye in case he made any sudden movements.

There had been none. Jeannie, before they parted, had begged Thorne not to intervene. She knew the Istochnik only wanted to talk to her. For how long, and what about, was anyone's guess.

Jeannie let go of her fear. What good would it do? She would find out soon enough what they wanted from her. With that thought, she closed her eyes under the blindfold and let her daydreams of Thorne carry her to sleep.

The man before her was bald, short and as broad as he was tall. Well, maybe not that large, but his presence gave him the appearance. It was in the way the guards stood reverently around him, not daring to meet his eyes. How the man dismissed them with only a flick of his hand. The way his assistant, a male younger and brawnier than the man, served his tea with trembling hands.

Jeannie however, refused to be intimidated. The Istochnik prized strength and determination. Well, she would give it all she had. She hoped it would aid her in getting back to Thorne quicker.

She sipped her tea, waiting for the man to speak. Like a lioness in the grass, she watched her prey stir his drink with a small silver spoon. When the man raised the fragile china cup to his lips, he slurped the liquid with his pinkie raised delicately in the air. Jeannie stilled her laughter at the incongruous sight.

Once he drank his tea, the man settled the cup in its saucer, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Only when he dabbed his mouth with a white linen napkin did he look at Jeannie.

She met his gaze with a curious one of her own.

"We will speak the English you and I. I must practice." The statement wasn't a request but an order.

Jeannie remained silent.

The man folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward. "I remember your mother. Valeria Jones was a good agent. She was continuously loyal to her country."