20CHAPTER 25
Her father was sitting beside the bed when Manda finally opened her eyes. The familiar white walls, the window blinds, the heart monitor, and the IV tubes told her she was in a hospital. Again.
"Hey," her father told her with a slight smile. The bruises and scratches on his face were slowly fading.
"Hey," she whispered with a dry throat. Shifting on the bed, she groaned when she felt the dull sting on her injured shoulder.
"Easy there," her father told her gently.
Though she was happy to see her father, she was slightly disappointed that Michael wasn't here to greet her.
"How are you feeling today?" he asked her.
"Better, I supposed. I can't remember much... How long have I been here?"
"It's been two weeks," he replied.
"Two weeks," she murmured. The case seemed like it had happened last night. "What... What's happened to Jason, er, Jack?"
"They are bringing him for psychiatric evaluation first because of his family history."
"Like Eldgrim," she put in with a sour note. "I'd never thought I'd be hearing that name again after all these years."
"Jason Sanders - or Jack Kendall, that's his foster family name - was separated from his brother at the orphanage. Jason was seven and his brother was eleven, I think, when they were separated."
"Jason told me why his brother had run away from his foster parents," Manda told him.
"I did a little digging. Jason did go to Yale as he had claimed. Grew up with a normal family, went to a normal high school - a quiet kid in class, I was told. Graduated with honors. Then he enrolled in Yale. And again graduated with 4.0 CGPA. Then he became an intern at Belden, Harker and Associates."
"To think that he wasted them all for revenge," she said in a quiet voice. "I... I kind of understand why he did it. Don't you feel it, too, when Uncle Connor died?"
"But he was out of line, Manda," her father pointed out in a firm tone. "And there's a law for that, too."
"So, you don't feel like killing him?" She looked at him in confusion.
"In more ways than you could imagine," he admitted. "But in the end I feel sorry for him."
A knock on the door interrupted them. Both turned to look.
"Damien!" she exclaimed in a happy surprise.
Damien stood at the doorway with a grin on his face. There were cuts around his face, and he was walking stiffly into the room.
"Hey, guys," he said, perching at the edge of the bed and looking relieved that he was sitting down.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" her father asked him with a frown. "That stab was pretty deep."
He winced. "I'm okay, really. It's just a little stab, that's all."
Her father scoffed.
"Anyway, don't stop on my account. What were you talking about just now?" Damien asked.
"The case," she answered.
"You missed all the action, Manda," he told her.
"I was half-way paralyzed and I was stabbed. I can't remember what happened after that."
"Well, the good news is the charges against Michael are dropped. He's a free man. Jason confessed that he was the one who had framed Michael."
"That's good," she said happily.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" her father asked Damien.
Damien's brows narrowed together in confusion. "I think that's all there is to say."
"Modesty isn't your strong suit, Damien. He forgot to say that he saved your life, Manda. He and Michael," her father said, clapping Damien's shoulder. "We saw you were unconscious. If it weren't for him..."
"Aww, shucks. Stop." Damien appeared embarrassed by the attention.
"Well, thank you anyway," she told him with a small smile.
"Just doin' my job, ma'am." He tipped an imaginary hat. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd better get back to bed. I like the nurse who attends me."
He gave a mischievous grin before he left the room.
Her father shook his head. "He never changes."
"Dad?" she said.
"Yes, honey?"
"Umm... H-Have you seen, Michael? Is he okay?"
"He's fine. And he wanted me to give you this-" He reached into the shirt pocket and gave her a ring - the one that was taken from her.
"Oh." She swallowed, taking it with her trembling hand.
"Is there something I should know about between you and Michael? Why did he want to give you the ring again?" Her father looked at her curiously.
"I... It's nothing really." She forced a smile, not having the courage to explain the truth to him. "Jason had stolen it from me. He switched it with a fake one. Umm... did Michael say anything else?"
"You sure there's nothing wrong?" Her father's voice took on a dangerous note, which he usually did whenever someone had hurt his daughter.
"Nothing." She studied the ring.
"Michael apologized for not being able to be here. He got some stuff to do. He said he'll talk to you soon."
"He will?" She looked up at him with wide eyes. Her father's expression was a stony mask. It was hard to believe that Michael still wanted to talk to her. Even after what she had done? It was she, who was supposed to talk to him. She hated to admit that Jason was right. When Michael had found out she had not trusted him, he could never trust her in the same way again.
"You sound surprise," her father commented, bringing her back to earth. His eyes narrowed, studying her carefully.
She studied the ring closer, amazed how the small diamond could reflect several different colors of light. Her father had an uncanny knack to detect when she was lying. This was one of the setbacks having a father, who worked as an FBI agent. The third degree wouldn't stop until he had all the answers.
"How's Daniels doing?" she asked.
Her father's eyebrows rose at the turn of subject. "His eyesight is improving a little. He still has minor burns and headaches, but he'll be out of here in a few months. His doctor wants to put him under observation and monitor his progress."
"That's great," she said in relief.
His expression turned somber as he rose from his chair. He didn't say anything for a moment as he hobbled toward the window and stared outside. She looked at him in puzzlement, wondering what had made him look so serious.
"I'm sorry, Manda," he suddenly said in a quiet voice.
"I don't understand, Dad."
He turned to look at her. "For not being there for you all the time. I'm sorry I can't be the kind of father that you hoped me to be."
"I don't mind, really. I've kind of gotten used to it."
"Well, it shouldn't happen this way. I wanted you to have a normal life. I know this is not what you want to hear. But after I lost your brother, then your mother - I feel like I've failed my family. I've failed keeping the family together."
"Logan's death and Mom's death are not your fault."
He sank back onto the chair with a sigh. "It's part of my job to protect the family. It's hard to face the facts that your family is gone one by one - and now Connor's gone. And again, I wasn't there for you. Now, there's just the two of us..." He took a breath. "I realize now, no matter what happens, we've got to stick together. I almost lost you. You can't imagine what it was like seeing... seeing you, almost killed like that by Eldgrim. You're the only family I've got left, and I intend to make sure nothing's going to happen to you."
"Oh, Dad. I don't want anything to happen to you either." She paused for a second. "D-Does that mean you don't want me to join the FBI? You've trained me a lot."
"It's your decision, Manda. Whatever you want to do, I'll support you all the way. Have you discussed about this with Michael?"
She swallowed. "Um... no."
"When's the wedding? Have you set the date?"
"Ah, not, yet. We... We sort of have a small glitch in the plan at the moment."
"Well, fix the glitch soon. After all, both of you have gone through a lot worse than this. It's a pity if you have to throw it all away. If you want your happiness, you've got to work hard for it. It doesn't come to you with a snap of your fingers."
She clutched the ring tighter, wondering if her father had known what had happened between her and Michael all along. But how did he know?
He patted her hand. "Well, get some rest, honey. I'll pick you up tomorrow."
"Okay," she said, smiling when he gave a peck on top of her head. If her father said that Michael would call, she would be waiting hopefully when she got home tomorrow.
Or maybe she had been too hopeful. There wasn't any word from him the next day after her father had brought her back home. And it continued on the next day, and the next, and the next. And it was making her frustrated.
When her wound almost healed, she returned to the campus. She had Professor Sutton's class that morning. Michael would be there. But to her disappointment, only Professor Sutton arrived in the class. Was Michael avoiding her? It would seem that he had changed his mind about talking to her.
So, after the class was over, she headed down the lecture hall and cornered Professor Sutton before he was on his way out.
"Hi," she said to him.
"Yes, Miss Rider?" He looked at her expectantly.
"Umm... I was wondering wh-what happened to your teaching assistant?"
He gave a knowing smile. "I had a feeling it doesn't have anything to do with my lecture."
Her face grew hot.
"You're not the only one who wants to know about him."
"Huh?"
"Your other classmates have been wondering about his absence, too."
"Oh." She could guess he was referring to the other female classmates.
"He's taking a week off," Professor Sutton told her. "He told me he needs some time to move out of his apartment. It's not that pleasant staying at a place where a murder had been committed, you know."
"Yeah... I guess you're right," she murmured, mentally kicking herself for not remembering Alex's death. "He didn't say where he is moving to?"
"No. Anything else?"
She shook her head. "Thanks."
She dropped her books in the backseat as soon as she unlocked her car. Maybe it was a gut feeling, but she could guess where Michael would be right now. And if Michael wasn't going to call her, she would have to make her move first.
It took about fifteen minutes before she arrived at the house. Michael's Land Rover was parked at the driveway. There didn't seem to be a doorbell, yet, so she knocked on the door. Having no answer after she waited for almost a minute, she took out the keys, and let herself into the house.
As she headed down the hallway, she turned left to the family room. The room was still bare of furniture, but she noticed cardboard boxes stacked on top of another at the corner of the room. The French door next to the fireplace was ajar, and she noticed a toolbox, lying open by the door.
Carefully stepping away from the toolbox, she pushed the door that faced the deck at the back of the house. Michael's back was facing her as he hammered a nail into the wall. He only had on a pair of jeans, and judging from his glistening bronze skin, she figured he must have been working around the house for quite a while.
Her gaze dropped to the hammock with a surprise gasp. He was hanging a hammock! Just like she had wished. Only she didn't think he had taken her insouciant suggestion seriously when she had told him before. She took a step back, not understanding at what she was seeing. She needed time to think. Her next move was to get out of the house undetected until her foot stepped on the toolbox. Her teeth gritted as the contents clattered around her, sounding even worse than a gunshot.
The French door swung open and Michael's frame filled the doorway. He looked ready to kill but froze when he caught sight of her.
"I should have known. Who else would have made a ruckus like this? How did you get in here?" he asked her in a gruff voice. A few days' worth of beard covered his jaw.
"Y-You gave me the keys. Remember?" she managed to say.
He grunted something, but didn't respond.
"So, you're moving here," she began when he didn't say anything. "Are these things from your apartment?"
He glanced at what she was pointing at. "Not all. Some of them were Alex's. I'm planning to send them back to her parents. Her funeral's next week if you'd like to come."
"I'd like to. I'm really sorry about Alex. I wished I could've known her better."
"Yeah. Me, too." He paused before he turned his gaze to her. "So, why are you here?"
He looked so serious that her determination faltered slightly. Why was she here in the first place? He obviously didn't want to see her again. That was why he didn't call her. He had changed his mind.
"I... I just want to return the keys."
"Is that all?"
"And th-the ring."
He stiffened. "Keep it. It's yours."
"I can't. It just doesn't feel right. We're not - I mean, maybe you should save it for - for someone else."
"You can't be serious," he scoffed.
"Because you're not?"
He growled, raking a hand through his unruly dark hair. He seemed to be debating silently with himself before he stepped forward and grabbed the ring and her left hand.
"This ring is yours. I don't want it," he said, slipping the band around her finger.
"I don't think I should be wearing it," she reminded him. Still the ring felt snug around her finger.
"I'm not going to give it to someone else."
"Why?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You have another ring that you're saving for someone else?"
He looked at her like she was the world's idiot. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what? I don't always know what you're thinking, Mackenzie."
His eyes darkened as he stared at her. "I'll show you what I'm thinking-"
She didn't have a chance to comprehend when he pulled her closer until his mouth came down on hers. The shock made it hard for her to distinguish if she was pushing him away, or pushing herself against him. When his mouth slowly slanted against hers before trailing down her throat, she had forgotten why she was here in the first place.
By the time they finally pulled apart, she was appalled to see her arms were around his neck, and he was untangling his hand from her hair. She stepped away from him quickly, not before she smacked her fist against his chest.
"I don't tolerate being played around, Michael." Her voice came out shaky, much to her consternation. "A-Are we still friends or not?"
She folded her arms to still her composure, and lifted her chin to face him in silence. He ran a hand through his hair again, looking frustrated.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I... I'm not sure what came over me. I guess... seeing you and all..." His gaze dropped to her mouth. "Actually, I'm not sorry for kissing you."
Her cheeks grew hot by his audacious reply.
He studied her for a moment before he sighed heavily, turning around to stare outside the French door. "I've been doing a lot of thinking... And I have to admit, I've been too hasty with my decision. The thing is... I was really angry... felt betrayed, actually. I apologize if I accused you of the things that you weren't. I didn't want to believe it. What else could I think after catching you red-handed breaking into my apartment like that?"
"I've already said sorry about that."
"I know. But couldn't you at least ask me first if you want to look at my bankbook?"
"I... I didn't want you to think that I suspected you..."
"Suspected me of what?"
"The huge amount of deposits in your saving accounts weren't from... a certain, um, crime organization?" she asked, remembering Jason's claim that the accounts weren't faked.
He stared at her like she had suggested him to go swimming with the sharks. "Why would I get involved with a crime organization? I've told you the money is from my ancestors."
He sounded genuinely perplexed, and she believed him. And it wasn't making her feel better when she even had confirmation of the account from the bank. Or maybe the account belonged to someone else with the same name as Michael's, she decided in realization. Jason accidentally had found it and used it to frame him. Relief swept over her.
"Is that what has been bothering you all this time? You think I have a connection with a... a mob?" Michael was saying when she turned back to him. He looked in pain when he uttered the last word. "Manda, we've been friends for almost four years. I thought you've known that I would never get involved in something like that."
She gave an embarrassed shrug. "The account statements that Jason had showed me was very real. I didn't want to believe it but, well... I've begun to have little doubts about you. I'm sorry I didn't let you know. I mean, if I confronted you with this, you might have lied to me, pretending that you didn't know anything."
"I see," he murmured. The stoic mask that he put on made it hard for her to read what he was thinking. "So, now what? Are you leaving me? Are we still friends?"
She stood next to him, staring out at the backyard. "You still want us to be friends?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"Yes and more. But I'm not sure if you still trust me the same way you did before," he replied. "You trust no one but yourself."
"Sometimes I'm not so sure if I can trust myself. But I... I want us to have another chance again." She hesitated for a second before she reached for his hand.
He didn't move away, but pulled her into his embrace. "I like the sound of that."
Hugging him tighter, she smiled when he gave a peck on her cheek. "As much as it hurts, I'll understand if you change your mind about marrying me," she said.
"Ah, Manda, no more second thoughts. We're so getting married."
THE END.
A/N:
It's finally done. If anyone still reads this, thanks for reading the story. Bye.