99 - A Change is Gonna Come

Petey quietly sipped her coffee, and pushed the hair out of her face.  Gingerly tapping on her cheekbone, she was surprised at how much the one spot could hurt.  Daniel must’ve hit her in just the right place.  What she told Stephanie had been a lie – it hurt every bit as bad as it looked.  She was glad the girl had gone to take a shower, and none of the boys had surfaced from their rooms yet.

Jon’s face darkened when she winced, and Petey dropped her hand her lap.  He was upset enough.  Drawing more attention to the injury wasn’t helping.

He’d been on the phone forever now, it seemed.  Literally since before she’d woken up, anyway.  First was Dorothea, and after that, he muttered something about hell freezing over and then retuned a missed call to his security guy. 

From the few loud, terse words – including ‘your ass is fired and good luck finding work again’ – Petey gathered that they hadn’t found Daniel.   Jon immediately hung up from him and called, she presumed, another security guy and then his lawyer.  That had been a long, tense conversation, ending with a brusquely barked order to ‘be ready to finalize the paperwork on it tomorrow’.  Now he was finishing up a phone call to someone named Jerry.  She couldn’t decipher anything other than that Jon was going to see him in a little while. 

Jon had gone from quietly supportive to enraged, to businessman, to thoughtful and back to businessman.  He was wearing her out.  Her mug now empty, Petey unfolded her leg from beneath her and rose from the sofa, stopping to pick up his empty cup from the coffee table as well. They could probably both use a refill. 

She didn’t know what to do, and that was an unusual spot for her to be in.  Analyzing a situation and determining the most effective solution to a problem was her strong suit.  She’d always scored exceptionally well in analytical reasoning skills.  Why was this so complicated?

Because you have to worry about other people.  People that you care about.

Her biggest fear after finding out that Daniel wasn’t dead, was that he was going to try and exact his revenge on someone else in her life.  Could he know that would be inordinately worse than dying?  If something happened to her mother, step-father, brothers, nieces or nephews because of her…  It would be unbearable.  Factor in the possibility of Jon or his kids falling victim to Daniel’s psychotic histrionics and it was enough to make Petey wish she kept a stash of sedatives. 

And there was nothing she could do about it but play the waiting game.  Even giving him what he wanted wasn’t a viable option.  If she were inclined to do so, how could she?  Handing over the flash drive in the guest room was a little pointless if Daniel wasn’t around to hand it to.

What about your moral objections?  Can you live with yourself if you give it to him?

It would be a whole lot easier than living with whatever he might to do someone she loved.  Nothing was worth any of them being hurt.  Jon would never be able to forgive… anyone if his kids were victims in this stupid power play.

“Petey?”

She twisted her head around at his voice, disconcerted to find that she’d been gazing unseeingly out the window.  Both coffee cups were still sitting empty on the counter.

“What?”

Gentle hands on her hips turned her toward him and worried blue eyes studied her face.  “You okay?”

Why wouldn’t she be okay? She was single-handedly responsible for them all cowering in fear of a whack job.  Suddenly she needed a few minutes alone.  

Petey plastered on a smile and nodded.  “I’m fine.  I’d really like a shower though.  Can I use the guest room?” 

He didn’t immediately acquiesce, and she brought her palms up so that they could slide down the soft fabric covering his biceps.  “I would ask what’s worrying you, but I don’t think I’m ready to know the details just yet.  Can it wait until after my shower?  Please?”

“Yeah.  Of course it can.”  But he still looked like something was on the tip of his tongue.

“What is it, Jon?”

His eyes skated over her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin, and he lifted his hand so that his fingers could trail along the same path.  She was sure he was taking in her injuries, looking at her smudged makeup and wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.  Who could blame him?

“I’m not exactly a romantic type of guy. Even when I try to be, I tend to fuck it up.  I can pay somebody to get the setting right, but when it comes down to it, I’m just me - a prick, for the most part.”

She laughed softly, levering up on tiptoe to kiss his chin.  “I have so few romantic needs, it’s not even funny.  And I’m becoming kinda fond of your prick-ness.  Don’t worry about it.”

“You deserve more,” he murmured, remorse flitting through his eyes.  “More than I can give you.”

Ah.  So that’s where this was going.  ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’  Petey stifled a sigh and squared her shoulders, summoning her best political smile.  She didn’t blame him, but playing this scene out gracefully was a little beyond her, considering that she was wearing a blood-spattered sweater and her zygomatic arch felt more like a right angle than an arch. 

She scuttled backward out of his embrace, but his fingers locked around her wrist, refusing to let her go.  “Jon, this can wait just a few minutes, can’t it?  I must have gotten banged around a little more than I thought.  I’m really sore and desperate for a shower and something besides this sweater.  Could I borrow a t-shirt?”

The urge to say more was written all over his face, but playing the injury card had won her the reprieve she so badly needed.

“Sure,” he agreed coolly, releasing her wrist while his eyes shuttered away his thoughts.  “I’ll go grab one.  Do you want me to see if Steph has some pants you can wear?”

“No, my jeans are fine.  I just want rid of…” Her hand helplessly swept over the front over her sweater at the speckles of blood.  “…this.”

Emotion bubbled beneath the surface, and he held her eyes captive.  “Petey, I-“

“Later,” she interrupted softly, almost begging.  “Please?”

Displeasure was evidenced by the creases between his eyebrows and flattened lips, but he nodded.  “Leave the sweater on the bed.  I’ll get rid of it and leave a t-shirt.”

“Thank you.”

Head dipped, she skirted around him and made a beeline for the guest room.  She missed being a reclusive video geek who only got attention because of her makeup and clothes.  Petey wasn’t into the whole melodramatic soap opera thing and she thought she might be getting an ulcer.

“Petey?”

Her socks slid slightly on the tile when she skidded to a stop.  She didn’t turn, just quietly asking, “Yes?”

“Stephanie was right.  I’m not going to let anything else happen to you.”

With a nod, she let her feet carry on their path.

☠ ☢ ☠

Jon watched her go, sighing softly and scowling.  Dating a genius could be inconvenient.  She already knew something was up.  How was he going to be able to do what he needed to do, and convince her it was for the best?  It was unfortunate that this decision was coming now, before they’d gotten to enjoy their relationship, but he had his children to think of.  This wasn’t the easy choice, but it was the best choice.

Daniel Lewis was still wandering around out there somewhere – with the pictures – and Jon’s security detail had no idea where to find him.   The new team had better produce results, or he didn’t know what he was going to do.  Resort to less civilized security guys, he supposed.  It had been a while, but he still had people he could call.

In the meantime, he had to keep in mind what Leo, his lawyer, had said.  “I can’t put a gag order on him if you can’t find him Jon.  Those pictures could pop up any and every where.  All you can do is minimize the damage if it happens.”

After talking to Leo and wracking his brain, Jon could only think of one way to minimize the potential damage.  It wasn’t really fair to her, but all he could do was hope that Petey understood where he was coming from.

Checking his watch, he saw that he only had a few minutes until Jerry got here.  If he hurried, he would have time to get her shirt and grab a quick shower himself.  At the very least, he could brush his teeth.

☠ ☢ ☠

“And that’s when I left and called Jon for backup,” Dorothea concluded after hearing Tony experience with his parents and relaying hers.  She knew he went to see Matt last night, too, and probably owed the youngest Bongiovi brother a thank you for his hand in keeping the fiasco short-lived. 

She and Tony were lying comfortably in bed and she was draped across his chest, the hair tickling her cheek.  Jon’s ‘man-scaping’ had been a novelty, but there was nothing sexier on a man than a chest full of thick hair.  Tony had it and then some.  Her thumb thoughtfully traced the tattoo on his left arm.

“So I guess we’ll just have to wait and how she behaves.  This isn’t going away anytime soon, and she may as well get used to it.”

Tony’s callused fingers idly combed through the tousled locks of her hair.  “No, not anytime soon,” he concurred softly.  “Babes, I know a lot of things have to happen and that I’m probably rushing the hell out of this, but as far I’m concerned this is never going away.  Pretty sure I’m gonna want forever with you, just so you know.”

She shifted so that her chin was propped on his chest and she could see into his eyes.  It was nice when they weren’t obscured by the glasses.  They were such a pretty shade of blue.

“You’re pretty sure, huh?” Dorothea asked, with a quirky half-smile. 

He didn’t flinch or even blink his eyes, merely continued to sift lazily through her hair.  “I am.” 

“Does that mean you’re going to want to get married?”  She was surprised when the thought of marrying him kicked her heartbeat into overdrive.  Dorothea hadn’t been sure she would ever want to get married again.  Her instinctive excitement let her know that it wasn't out of the question - at least with this man.

“Eventually, when the time is right, yes.  That okay with you?”

Her cheek replaced her chin on his chest and the half-smile grew into a full one.  “I guess you’ll find out when and if you decide to propose.”   His sharp swat on her bottom had her squealing like a girl.  “Hey!  Cut that out!”

“I love you, but every once in a while you need to be put in your place.”  The condescending words were softened by his wink.  “Before you get any more ideas about being a wise ass, why don’t you tell me about what’s going on with Petey?  I’m assuming she’s coming back to work?”

Dorothea glided her hand back and forth over the slight roundness of his stomach, wondering what he would have to say about this. 

“Jon invited her to go with him and the kids to a ball game last night, so the media that was there took the relationship public.  When he brought Petey home, Daniel had broken into her apartment and was waiting inside for her.  Jon said she invented something that Daniel wants.  There was a fight and she ended up leaving Daniel for dead, only he wasn’t dead and is now running around the city somewhere.”

“My God.  Is she okay?”  He’d gone immobile while she spoke.  “What’s Jon going to do?”

She huffed.  “He said she’s okay, just banged up.  I feel sorry for her, but I don’t know what they’re going to do.  As far as the kids are concerned, I told Jon he's going to make sure we have extra security here at the house to keep them safe. If that guy makes the connection...”

“Security is all well and good, but it's is only a job to those guys.”  His face went stony with determination.  “I’m gonna stay here at the house until they catch that fucker.”

“What makes you think I’ll let you?”

“I don’t remember asking your permission,” he informed her with a lifted eyebrow.  “I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms, but being here will make me feel better.  I’ll know you’re all safe.”

Honestly, his being there would make her feel better, too, and the fact that he didn’t ‘ask’ sent the dormant butterflies in her stomach fluttering to life.  Dorothea had no doubt she could run her life and the lives of her children single-handedly, and do it well.  She had done it for years, in effect. 

But now, Tony was stepping up to fill a void she hadn’t realized was there until last Christmas – he was taking care of her.  She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

“I guess that would be alright,” she conceded, warm with the knowledge that her agreement wasn’t necessary, and that ‘forever’ had unofficially begun.