Story Bemerkung:
An Ocean Between Us
Janaury 23,2003
Jarod Russell (New England)
By Adrianne Boudreau
Part Of The Rabilia Series
An Ocean Between Us
Jarod stood alone looking out into the ocean, the crisp New England breeze gave a rough caress to his ebony colored hair, an air of deep solemnity around him that was so oppressive that it was almost chocking in thickness. His mind whirled around and around, trying to piece together every little memory, every little image, of how he reached this point in his eventful life.
It all began, at least for him, the day that he was abducted at four years old from his family, forced to work for almost thirty years as a slave to a malicious think tank, called the Centre. All because he held the gift of rare genius, which enabled him to literally become anyone he wanted to be. And for a while his life, was bleak, bland, and controlled. Then like the force of nature that she was, Miss Parker blew into his life, and made everything around him a beautiful picture of Technicolor.
He still could clear as day, remember her face. Long brown hair the color of fresh cinnamon, her eyes holding the blue and warmth of the Caribbean seas. And then it was the warmth of her smile that made everyday worth waking up to.
And for awhile, even in the depths of hell, he was happy.
Then suddenly everything came crashing around them. The day that Catherine Parker committed suicide, and it was a only to a matter of time until her precious daddy ruled her world, that she was gradually, bit by bit, taken away, then one day, she was truly gone. Gone to some frigid boarding school so many miles away from him.
Days, months, and gradually years passed.
It was twenty five years later, when he decided that he had to run away. Run to make up for tragedies, the grave injustices that his long servitude had caused. And then to make matters worse he was horrified, and a bit intrigued, to find out that the sweet little girl, who had been the light in his darkness, was now his icy huntress.
Again days, months, and years passed, in a flurry of a long drawn out game of cat and mouse. Along the way, he found various iniquitous plots, missing pieces of his family, and friendships.
Then five years to the day since the merry chase began, he and Miss Parker ended up stranded on the island of Carathis. Forced to work together to unravel the latest layer of deceit and finding the true origins of the Parker family and of the origins? of the evil that is the Centre.
And on that island, by Ocoee’s fireplace, the tension that had been building from their youth had finally climaxed, into one almost-kiss.
In that moment he knew that he loved her, had always loved her.
He should have known not to expect some fairytale happy ending, with her running away with him to live happily ever after.
Instead, she put her emotions, her feelings, underneath an icy, metal wall. And told him that there was no ‘us’, only the game.
And that was that. He sulked for three months, hidden away in a little cabin off the shores of Washington state. He cursed, he drank, he cried, he shouted, and destroyed things. Then one day, he got a message in his refuge email account.
A message from the very woman that he was trying to forget.
She wanted to meet him San Diego, in little café on the west side of town. At first he thought it was a trap, but his curiosity got the better of him and he ended up meeting her.
She sat regally in a tiny booth. Her long mahogany hair, artfully trimmed, fell down her back. Dressed in a classic black Chanel skirt suit that cost more than many people’s salaries.need something in this sentence about how the outfit adds to the sense of her regal bearing, or what he perceives as her regal bearing.
And when he sat down and looked into her topaz eyes, it was like coming home. He felt warmth inside of him that reached every single cell in his body.
Then she dropped the bombshell on him. Straight to the point as always.
“It’s time to bring down the Centre. Are you in or out rat boy?”
There was no other answer he could give.
“I’m in.” he replied quietly, yet firmly.
And like a storm, for over year and half together they went through a range of different adventures, which included finding the Vespian Scrolls, and using them, along with well timed delivery of DSA, part of Catherine Parker’s last will and testament, interlaced with her specify who she is master plan on ending the evil that was the Centre. The DSA led to several places around the world where they found evidence of the Centre’s malicious deeds and had a listing of their many secret holdings and assets. With that little gem, they were able not only to drain all the funds of both The Centre, and The Triumvirate, but also destroy with a well placed computer virus every piece of data that the Centre held.
With that done, all that was left to do was to give the evidence over to the local, state, and federal law enforcement agencies.
Then it was the night before the Centre was to be raided, and both were holed up in a little Bed and Breakfast in Dover. He could still see her rigid spine as she passed back and forth in their room. snarking at him, in the usual way she did, but he didn’t blame her. He was more than a little nervous too. This was the end of an era, and the end of a couple of chapters in their lives for the both of them. So instead of baiting her, feeding her anger as was his usual way of responding to her biting remarks, he instead did something that he had been thinking about for more years than he would like to admit.
He kissed her long and hard. Forcing everything that he felt for her, love and hate, joy and sorrow into his kiss. He told her without words that she was the moon, the stars, his everything. He kissed her until they couldn’t breathe, and then reluctantly, he released his lips from hers.
They stared at each other, taking in air with short pants.
Then she punched him hard in the face, knocking him on his ass. He blinked up at her in a daze, holding his injured face in his hands.
“Why did you do that for?”
“You didn’t ask me for permission first wonderboy.”
She gave a slow smirk that made a cold shiver run down his spine, and certain parts of his lower anatomy stand at attention. And then before he knew, the Ice Queen herself was straddling him, the warmth of her core, rubbed against his aching member.
“Miss Parker.”
“Hmmm?”
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
“No.”
He sighed, his heart was heavy.
Then without warning, she touched his lips softly with her luscious pink lips. And all was forgotten, forgiven in a rush of mouth, tongue, passion, and love. And from there they couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. They rushed hurriedly, stripping clothes, and taking the time to explore each other’s bodies, until finally they were one,. Their love making was a mixture of short, frantic movements, and long, gloriously slow strokes until they climaxed in a multitude of pleasure and sensations.
Afterwards, they couldn’t talk, there no words, no platitudes that they could offer one another. The new lovers‘ world too fragile to make promises of love and forever. So they went to bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning when Jarod woke from his surprisingly peaceful sleep he knew immediately that something was amiss. The bed was cold and there was no pressure of Miss Parker’s weight beside him. He turned over, and his fears were confirmed when there was only a faint impression of her in the sheets.
He searched all over their suite, found her clothes, and toiletries, gone. No evidence at all of her being there. Only his memory of the events of last night. And then he caught sight of an envelop with his name scrawled in her neat, elegant handwriting. He slowly, fearfully, opened the envelope, and read the short letter, once, twice, three times, before he could process it’s contents.
Dear Jarod,
If you already reading this, then you know that I’m gone. Don’t look for me, it’s better this way. Please do yourself a favor and live your freedom, and enjoy your family. I will always remember you, and what you have done for me, but this is better that I move on.
Goodbye Rat boy,
Miss Parker
For the second time, in his life she had left him, and he had felt like he was once more that defeated thirteen year old boy.
And now he was the defeated adult.
Yet, he had to live again without her. It was inconceivable to not be able to hear her voice at the touch of his speed dial or bait her into her wild, snarling, anger. The roaring anger that never failed to bring a rush of fresh arousal. To see her ice blue eyes, the silky chocolate brown mane of her hair. Never, to hear again the click, clack of her high heeled shoes.
She was truly gone.
The next day he watched the Centre raided completely anesthetized. He didn’t have the joyous feeling that he thought he should feel, now that his own fate was in his hands for the first time in his life. Nor did the phone calls to his family, who had been hiding in a cabin north of Ottawa.
He still could remembered that when he told his family of the truce, between him and Miss Parker. His mother that he had just that past June reunited with had been highly suspicious of the whole deal. She didn’t want to risk his freedom, risk losing him to the Centre’s huntress. They had their first argument that day, he reminisced silently as he watched the stars start to appear in the sky. The moon was rising high in the black sky.
The cool water lapping at his bare feet.
He sighed, shaking his head from his reverie. It was time to go to his new home, where his family awaited for him. He knew it was time to move on, but he couldn’t help but feel hollow. He didn’t want to move on without Parker. Yet once again she, and fate, gave him no other choice.
He picked up his shoes, and tracked his wet feet through the grainy sand. Leaving footsteps in his wake. And in the distance behind him lay the empty ruins of The Centre.
TBC...
An Ocean Between Us
Jarod stood alone looking out into the ocean, the crisp New England breeze gave a rough caress to his ebony colored hair, an air of deep solemnity around him that was so oppressive that it was almost chocking in thickness. His mind whirled around and around, trying to piece together every little memory, every little image, of how he reached this point in his eventful life.
It all began, at least for him, the day that he was abducted at four years old from his family, forced to work for almost thirty years as a slave to a malicious think tank, called the Centre. All because he held the gift of rare genius, which enabled him to literally become anyone he wanted to be. And for a while his life, was bleak, bland, and controlled. Then like the force of nature that she was, Miss Parker blew into his life, and made everything around him a beautiful picture of Technicolor.
He still could clear as day, remember her face. Long brown hair the color of fresh cinnamon, her eyes holding the blue and warmth of the Caribbean seas. And then it was the warmth of her smile that made everyday worth waking up to.
And for awhile, even in the depths of hell, he was happy.
Then suddenly everything came crashing around them. The day that Catherine Parker committed suicide, and it was a only to a matter of time until her precious daddy ruled her world, that she was gradually, bit by bit, taken away, then one day, she was truly gone. Gone to some frigid boarding school so many miles away from him.
Days, months, and gradually years passed.
It was twenty five years later, when he decided that he had to run away. Run to make up for tragedies, the grave injustices that his long servitude had caused. And then to make matters worse he was horrified, and a bit intrigued, to find out that the sweet little girl, who had been the light in his darkness, was now his icy huntress.
Again days, months, and years passed, in a flurry of a long drawn out game of cat and mouse. Along the way, he found various iniquitous plots, missing pieces of his family, and friendships.
Then five years to the day since the merry chase began, he and Miss Parker ended up stranded on the island of Carathis. Forced to work together to unravel the latest layer of deceit and finding the true origins of the Parker family and of the origins? of the evil that is the Centre.
And on that island, by Ocoee’s fireplace, the tension that had been building from their youth had finally climaxed, into one almost-kiss.
In that moment he knew that he loved her, had always loved her.
He should have known not to expect some fairytale happy ending, with her running away with him to live happily ever after.
Instead, she put her emotions, her feelings, underneath an icy, metal wall. And told him that there was no ‘us’, only the game.
And that was that. He sulked for three months, hidden away in a little cabin off the shores of Washington state. He cursed, he drank, he cried, he shouted, and destroyed things. Then one day, he got a message in his refuge email account.
A message from the very woman that he was trying to forget.
She wanted to meet him San Diego, in little café on the west side of town. At first he thought it was a trap, but his curiosity got the better of him and he ended up meeting her.
She sat regally in a tiny booth. Her long mahogany hair, artfully trimmed, fell down her back. Dressed in a classic black Chanel skirt suit that cost more than many people’s salaries.need something in this sentence about how the outfit adds to the sense of her regal bearing, or what he perceives as her regal bearing.
And when he sat down and looked into her topaz eyes, it was like coming home. He felt warmth inside of him that reached every single cell in his body.
Then she dropped the bombshell on him. Straight to the point as always.
“It’s time to bring down the Centre. Are you in or out rat boy?”
There was no other answer he could give.
“I’m in.” he replied quietly, yet firmly.
And like a storm, for over year and half together they went through a range of different adventures, which included finding the Vespian Scrolls, and using them, along with well timed delivery of DSA, part of Catherine Parker’s last will and testament, interlaced with her specify who she is master plan on ending the evil that was the Centre. The DSA led to several places around the world where they found evidence of the Centre’s malicious deeds and had a listing of their many secret holdings and assets. With that little gem, they were able not only to drain all the funds of both The Centre, and The Triumvirate, but also destroy with a well placed computer virus every piece of data that the Centre held.
With that done, all that was left to do was to give the evidence over to the local, state, and federal law enforcement agencies.
Then it was the night before the Centre was to be raided, and both were holed up in a little Bed and Breakfast in Dover. He could still see her rigid spine as she passed back and forth in their room. snarking at him, in the usual way she did, but he didn’t blame her. He was more than a little nervous too. This was the end of an era, and the end of a couple of chapters in their lives for the both of them. So instead of baiting her, feeding her anger as was his usual way of responding to her biting remarks, he instead did something that he had been thinking about for more years than he would like to admit.
He kissed her long and hard. Forcing everything that he felt for her, love and hate, joy and sorrow into his kiss. He told her without words that she was the moon, the stars, his everything. He kissed her until they couldn’t breathe, and then reluctantly, he released his lips from hers.
They stared at each other, taking in air with short pants.
Then she punched him hard in the face, knocking him on his ass. He blinked up at her in a daze, holding his injured face in his hands.
“Why did you do that for?”
“You didn’t ask me for permission first wonderboy.”
She gave a slow smirk that made a cold shiver run down his spine, and certain parts of his lower anatomy stand at attention. And then before he knew, the Ice Queen herself was straddling him, the warmth of her core, rubbed against his aching member.
“Miss Parker.”
“Hmmm?”
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
“No.”
He sighed, his heart was heavy.
Then without warning, she touched his lips softly with her luscious pink lips. And all was forgotten, forgiven in a rush of mouth, tongue, passion, and love. And from there they couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. They rushed hurriedly, stripping clothes, and taking the time to explore each other’s bodies, until finally they were one,. Their love making was a mixture of short, frantic movements, and long, gloriously slow strokes until they climaxed in a multitude of pleasure and sensations.
Afterwards, they couldn’t talk, there no words, no platitudes that they could offer one another. The new lovers‘ world too fragile to make promises of love and forever. So they went to bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning when Jarod woke from his surprisingly peaceful sleep he knew immediately that something was amiss. The bed was cold and there was no pressure of Miss Parker’s weight beside him. He turned over, and his fears were confirmed when there was only a faint impression of her in the sheets.
He searched all over their suite, found her clothes, and toiletries, gone. No evidence at all of her being there. Only his memory of the events of last night. And then he caught sight of an envelop with his name scrawled in her neat, elegant handwriting. He slowly, fearfully, opened the envelope, and read the short letter, once, twice, three times, before he could process it’s contents.
Dear Jarod,
If you already reading this, then you know that I’m gone. Don’t look for me, it’s better this way. Please do yourself a favor and live your freedom, and enjoy your family. I will always remember you, and what you have done for me, but this is better that I move on.
Goodbye Rat boy,
Miss Parker
For the second time, in his life she had left him, and he had felt like he was once more that defeated thirteen year old boy.
And now he was the defeated adult.
Yet, he had to live again without her. It was inconceivable to not be able to hear her voice at the touch of his speed dial or bait her into her wild, snarling, anger. The roaring anger that never failed to bring a rush of fresh arousal. To see her ice blue eyes, the silky chocolate brown mane of her hair. Never, to hear again the click, clack of her high heeled shoes.
She was truly gone.
The next day he watched the Centre raided completely anesthetized. He didn’t have the joyous feeling that he thought he should feel, now that his own fate was in his hands for the first time in his life. Nor did the phone calls to his family, who had been hiding in a cabin north of Ottawa.
He still could remembered that when he told his family of the truce, between him and Miss Parker. His mother that he had just that past June reunited with had been highly suspicious of the whole deal. She didn’t want to risk his freedom, risk losing him to the Centre’s huntress. They had their first argument that day, he reminisced silently as he watched the stars start to appear in the sky. The moon was rising high in the black sky.
The cool water lapping at his bare feet.
He sighed, shaking his head from his reverie. It was time to go to his new home, where his family awaited for him. He knew it was time to move on, but he couldn’t help but feel hollow. He didn’t want to move on without Parker. Yet once again she, and fate, gave him no other choice.
He picked up his shoes, and tracked his wet feet through the grainy sand. Leaving footsteps in his wake. And in the distance behind him lay the empty ruins of The Centre.
TBC...
