Living with Katrina Ch. 09

His pose, the bottle and the slight wetness of tears on the cushion where his face rested – it was a scream for help. A deafening, poignant cry that echoed within her heart.

"Jake?" she said with some trepidation.

His eyelids fluttered. He clutched the soft cushion a little tighter.

"Jake?" she repeated, prodding his shoulder.

He opened his eyes a sliver, enough to see the silhouette of a concerned roommate in the blinding whiteness. His head hurt. He tried supporting himself on one arm, but fell off the couch. Gingerly, he got to his feet.

"What happened, Jake?"

He did not reply, collapsing back onto the softness of his couch with his head in his hands. Katrina sat beside him and draped a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"August 16th, 1987," he started in a rough voice, worn out from the night's anguish. "A young boy threw a tantrum to go to his best friend's birthday party. His parents eventually gave in. They were driving him there when they were hit by a sedan and died. The one person whose fault it was, who should have died, lived on."

Katrina clapped her palm over her mouth in horror. The last sentence drove all the air out of her lungs.

"It wasn't your fault." She insisted, her pulse racing and her mind in disbelief.

Jake turned to face her with an expression bereft of all emotion.

"Hear a lie enough times and you begin to wonder if it was the truth all along."

Katrina threw both arms around her roommate and hugged him as tightly as she could. She wept into his shoulder and her heart ripped through the middle.

In that moment, Jake Gallagher was the sum total of all his weakness. Yet, he did not shed a tear, because he was no longer alone.

His ego would not let him be weak. No matter how much it hurt.

"Some more coffee?"

"No thanks," said Jake, clutching his head. Katrina sat down beside him holding a steaming cup. Her face clearly showed her concern.

"Start from the beginning," she said, stroking his neck and shoulder.

"There's nothing to say," he mumbled. "Nothing that I didn't know was going to happen."

"I'm so sorry, Jake."

"It's okay," he smiled, cupping her chin. "There's nothing you could have done. It's all me and my baggage. You don't need to blame yourself."

"You made my baggage a part of your life," she shot back. "I'm not going to let you deal with this alone, Jake. Not a chance."

Jake leaned against her shoulder, letting her wrap her arm around his head. She waited, almost craved, the tell-tale moisture on her shoulder, but it never came. He was always the strong one, that was not going to change.

"I was sedated on the hospital bed. My limbs felt like they were made of lead," he said.

Katrina listened to him. Her fingers alternately played with his hair and stroked the back of his neck.

"My head hurt like hell and I had some bruises on my arms and legs, but I could see clearly enough," he continued. "I saw Aunt Claire rush in holding Brittany. She immediately came to my bedside and began comforting me. Brittany stayed a few steps behind her, staring right into my eyes. The only thing in her gaze was hatred. Pure hatred."

"Aunt Claire took us in and raised us. Both of us got counselling to deal with the loss, but Brittany always found it easier to blame me," Jake went on. "All through my life, she never let me forget why my parents were in that car, at that intersection."

Katrina nodded sympathetically. His complete detachment and lack of emotion masked so many tears that they could drown them both. Twenty-five years of suffering were bottled up within that placid demeanour. Yet he could not bring himself to appear weak in front of Katrina.

He prayed she could not see inside him, for she would see the tears he hid.

"We used to be close before the accident," Jake resumed. "She was always much smarter than me, able to memorize entire libraries full of information. She knew college level math by the time she was seven. But even so, she enjoyed our time together. Brittany would take me to the roof at night and tell me about stars and the universe. I never understood it, but always stared up in wonder."

There was a brief lull as Jake remembered the stars, and the universe the children had shared.

"Brittany graduated from high school a year later, a record for the school. She went to Stanford on a full scholarship and informed me that I was never to contact her again," he continued, sullenly refusing to give in and show emotion. "At the age of eight, I lost my parents and at the age of nine, I lost my sister. Aunt Claire tried bridging our relationship with some meetings, but each ended worse than the last. Emotionally, Brittany never outgrew that little girl who hated her brother."

"Jake, honey, you are stronger than that," said Katrina. "Stand up to her."

"Kat," he said with a hollow chuckle. "She owns an online news empire worth billions. Just look at any issue of the Forbes list over the last decade and she is in the top 50 every time. How can I stand up to someone like that?"

"She's still a scared little girl, Jake. She's blaming you for something you aren't responsible for," Kat pleaded. "For once, Jake, stand up for yourself."

"I don't know," Jake said, uncertainty laced in his tone. "Maybe it's just easier to give in and let her know she won. How much could that hurt?"

Before Katrina could respond, the bell rang. Jake pursed his lips, he had guessed who it was. Katrina cut him off and went to open the door herself.

"Knight to queen's bishop 5," muttered Brittany, tapping her touch-screen. "Charming little place you have here."

She looked up derisively at Katrina.

"Hello, there. Good to see you're not about to kill yourself, though that wouldn't be an absolute tragedy," she said. The shimmering whiteness of her dress dazzled in the sunlight. Her eyes were once again hidden behind large lenses.

Katrina opened her mouth in rage, but caught Jake's eye and restrained herself.

"So, brother dearest," Brittany drawled. "Have you given my offer some thought? It would of course involve coming to Baltimore. I think you could use a fresh start."

"He's not going anywhere," said Katrina fiercely. "Least of all not where you are."

"I don't remember asking you," Brittany went on, not even bothering to look in her direction. "Or are you the spokesperson for the pair?"

"Leave her out of this, Brit. This is between us."

"So? Is it a yes or a no?"

Jake pursed his lips. He looked at Katrina and in her eyes he saw the love she had repeatedly professed for him. It reminded him why he needed to be strong and face up to his demon.

Because someone he loved asked him to.

"No."

"No?" said Brittany, unsure she heard right.

"No," he reiterated. This was the first time he had said NO to her.

"Jake, Jake, Jake," sighed his sister. "I give you a chance to climb out of this cycle of mediocrity and you throw it away. What's the matter?"

"The matter is," said Jake, astonishing himself. "I would sooner be dead than work for you just so I could be your personal punching bag everyday."

Brittany was stunned. Nobody defied her. Nobody.

"The only reason you ever come into my life is to hurt me. You can't let go over what happened to our parents. Hear that? OUR parents," he went on. "You can't let go and so you keep blaming me."

"Jake, you've gone too far," his sister said, visibly livid. "All my life I have been better than you. I knew the first million digits ofpibefore you could even count. I knew everything written by Voltaire, Rousseau, Kant, Spinoza and Locke before you could read and yet, our parents loved you more."

Jake actually took a step back, seeing the rage explode.

"I was the one with all the achievements which made people gasp and yet Mom and Dad loved your silly antics growing up. Dammit, Jake! Damn you, you bastard," she seethed. "And that wasn't enough, you had to kill them as well. The image of their bodies is in my head. It will always be in my head."

It was Jake who smiled for once. It was jealousy after all. He looked over at Katrina. He could never be weak in front of her, for her sake. She deserved a rock solid pillar of support.

"You saw them dead," he said coldly. "But I saw them struggle to live, bleeding out. I may not remember everything, but I remember that, every moment of every day. There is nothing you can say or do that can make me feel worse."

Brittany glared at him for a long while. She saw defiance in his eyes, something she had never seen in anybody's.

"Go to hell," she said and stormed off. Katrina was still gaping at what she had seen in front of her.

Wrung out from the effort of being strong, Jake collapsed on the couch.

The events of the morning lingered in Katrina's mind, tormenting her. She was out getting some groceries, while Jake took a well-deserved day off.

There were still choices to be made and resolutions sought. For once, she was going to have to be the strong one. Brittany had left a different Jake in the wake of her visit. Katrina was determined to bring back the man she loved, even though that love was in vain.

Maybe she was better off going to Philadelphia. At least Rhea would love her back.

Even as she crossed the road and took a short-cut through the alley, she noticed a man in a suit around a block behind her. It seemed odd that someone that well dressed would be going through a dingy alley. Sensing something awry, she took a quick left and disappeared into the crowd at the main produce market.

She took the cross town bus for a few stops and then began to retrace her steps. Her past had made her wary, to the point of paranoia, about people following her. She stopped near an intersection and stole a quick glance behind her, catching a glimpse of a dark suit once more.

Panicked, Katrina melted into the crowd of people at the intersection, taking a back-alley. She ran through a sequence of lefts and rights, stopping to catch her breath. Peering out, she scanned the damp walls for any sign of life. Convinced that she had lost him, she started to walk back towards the main road.

A jet black Reventon sped across her field of vision and lurched to a halt right in front of her. She turned around to see her mystery stranger in a suit just a few feet behind her. He had appeared out of nowhere. The rear door opened and she saw Brittany reclining against the plush seat.

"Get in."

Katrina hesitated, her eyes darting both ways, trying to think of an escape.

"Don't bother trying," said Brittany coldly. "The gentleman beside you is a former Mossad agent, highly proficient in Krav Maga. Any attempt to run and he will force you to come with us in a rather unpleasant manner. I strongly recommend you don't find out how."

Katrina's throat went dry. Sweat trickled down her face.

"I want to talk to you about Jake," said Brittany. "It's important."

Katrina blinked. For the briefest instant, she saw a glimmer of humanity in the stone cold being inside the car. Brittany took off her sunglasses and looked at her, possibly with a hint of concern.

"I'm sorry about before," she said evenly.

"Why should I believe anything you say?" snapped Kat angrily.

"Because I didn't come all the way here just to hurt Jake. The job was just something I made up. I have something I need to tell him about, but I don't know how. You are closest to him."

There was a pause before Brittany spoke up again. It took Katrina some time to realize she wasn't dreaming when she heard the next sentence.

"Help me. Please."

With some trepidation, she got in beside Brittany. Katrina looked at the formidable being beside her, trying to guess what she had in mind.

If it concerned Jake, it concerned her as well.