Roswell Fanatics

As always, thank you for the wonderful feedback. I've gotta post and run.....


Part 11

Liz closed the door to the restroom and stood in front of the mirror, willing her hands to stop shaking. What the hell was Juan talking about? What did he think he saw in Max's eyes?

She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She had to get herself together.

Looking into the mirror she asked the girl staring back at her, "What was wrong with you? It was an old man looking for a bit of a tip, that's all it was."

But he refused Max's money the girl in the mirror replied..

She thought the day had gone surprisingly well under the circumstances. Max had been charming and she actually had a good time.

Juan was a wonderful tour guide, and she'd enjoyed the history lesson but especially loved the old legends.

Long ago she'd had naïve girlish fantasies about love so powerful it seared the soul. But she'd long buried those fantasies out of necessity. She had learned that it was enough to merely survive. But the story of Armando and Inez, two lovers whose love was so strong it could not be denied, and the tragic circumstances that kept them apart and had led to their eventual demise had disturbed her in ways she hadn't fully comprehended yet. It brought those dreams she thought long withered and dead rushing to the surface.

"Don't do this, Liz," she whispered to herself fiercely.

She truly was ungrateful. She'd been given a second chance, a whole new start, and here she was whining over childhood fantasies.

Why? Why now?

She knew the answer. As lucky as she was that Phillip had been so wonderful to her, she didn't love him as he deserved to be loved.

How could she have possibly explained that to Juan?

"Get it together," she grated, and leaned over turning the water on.

She splashed her face with the cool water, before turning it off and reaching for a towel from the dispenser, trying to blot away the telltale flush to her cheeks that was a dead giveaway she was upset.

She gazed at her reflection, seeing her eyes wide and moist.

She must be overtired. That had to be it.

She should be counting her blessings, not wishing for things that most likely didn't really exist.

She was just drained from the emotional upheaval of the past two days.

She decided it had been enough time. Max had either taken the phone from her bag, or left it as it was.

By the end of the night she would know his intentions one way or another.

Taking a shaky breath and mentally preparing herself to face Max again, she straightened her back, and her resolve and pushed the door out.

The sun had almost set, and dusk had made the busy restaurant dim. She made her way through the crowded bar to the front and found Max standing inside the door waiting for her.

"I guess we should head back," Liz said in a strained voice.

She moved to step past him and outside, and felt his hand on her arm.

"Liz," he started to say.

She paused.

She turned halfway to find him staring at her, a strange look on his face.

"Max?" she said, her brow furrowing.

"Max," she repeated when he didn't answer.

His hand drew back as if scalded.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he said, seeming to shake himself off mentally.

"We should probably get back," she repeated.

"Huh?" he said. "Oh..."

What was wrong with him?

He handed her back her handbag.

"Why don't we have dinner here in town," he blurted, seeming to recover.

"Here, even," he said, motioning to the restaurant.

"I know for a fact that if Dad went into the office, he won't be back for dinner. You haven't eaten, you must be hungry," he offered.

"A little," Liz admitted.

"So are you up for it?" he asked.

"Yeah...sure," she said reluctantly. He'd been pretty good for most of the day, and it would be rude of her to say no after he'd spent the day with her.

"Good," he said, walking over to the reservation podium.

She gripped the strap of her bag tightly in her hand. She didn't have the heart to look at it yet.

A moment later, they were being escorted to a table in the restaurant.

Max stood behind her, pushing her chair in as she sat, before moving to the other side of the small table to seat himself.

The hostess asked if they'd like a drink from the bar, and Liz ordered a white wine. Max asked for water.

"You don't drink?" Liz asked, curious, after the hostess left.

Max shook his head.

"Alcohol doesn't agree with me," he said.

"Like father, like son," Liz commented, and Max stiffened.

"I suppose," he answered vaguely.

The hostess returned with their drinks and left them to look at the menus.

Liz's nerves were shot, and she made short work of the glass of wine.

Max was oddly quiet, seeming to be in deep concentration over his dinner choice.

Liz wasn't sure how to break the silence, and so she remained quiet.

A few minutes later, a waiter came to take their order, and Liz ordered another glass of wine, which was set in front of her almost immediately.

She took a few deep sips, and started to feel a little warm and...fuzzy.

She giggled a bit, and Max glanced at her.

"So, does the Evans' far-reaching influence carry all the way to Mesilla?" she asked.

"I'm sure it's just good service," Max said.

"Mmmhmm," Liz said, taking another sip of wine.

Max leaned back in his chair and surveyed the restaurant, apparently more interested in the décor than in talking to her.

He'd been acting strangely since she'd suggested they go home.

Well, more strange than he had acted all day, anyway.

She blinked, biting her lower lip lightly.

The warm glow of the wine that seemed to warm her blood made her feel a little daring.

"So, Max," she said, leaning forward, and he turned his attention to her.

"You never fully answered my question," she said.

His head tilted slightly, obviously trying to recall what question she was talking about.

"You know, why there's no Mrs. Max Evans on your arm. You said you weren't gay, but that you don't want female companionship," she reminded him.

"What else is there to say?" he asked. "I think that was an answer."

"No, not really," she said, resting her head on her wrist.

"I don't have the time," he answered, his tone signaling that this was the end of the conversation.

Liz ignored it.

"Oh come on," she said, "you're actually going to sit there and tell me that you can't make time for love? That's very sad."

"I have a very full life," Max said, taking a sip of his water.

"Do you? What fills your life?" she asked, persistent.

He didn't even know how lucky he was. He had security, safety, the opportunity to love and be loved without fear of that person being physically harmed, and he didn't even realize it.

He stared at her in silence.

"Is it work? Is work the only thing that fulfills you? Because it doesn't seem like you have much else in your life from what I've heard," she said.

She didn't miss the flash of pain that pierced his gaze before his eyes shrouded it.

"You don't know anything about my life," he said darkly.

"So tell me then," she said, leaning forward on her elbows. "Tell me about you Max. Tell me about what makes you happy."

"When my family is happy, then I am happy," he answered.

"You're avoiding the question again," she retorted, taking another sip of wine.

"I'm avoiding the question?" he asked in disbelief.

"You've avoided my questions all day, and I respected your wishes and dropped it when it was obvious you didn't want to talk about it. You don't even have the decency to do that," he said in annoyance.

"How about I answer that question after you tell me why you haven't spoken to your mother? Or what those things are in your past that you'd rather forget?" he hissed in a low voice.

"Or better yet, why don't you tell me why you were ru..." he broke off. Looking as if he'd almost said too much.

"Why I was what?" Liz asked, studying him.

"Forget it," Max muttered.

The waiter brought their dinners, interrupting their argument. He set another glass of wine in front of Liz.

A strained silence reigned between them as Max turned his attention to the food before him.

Liz pushed her food around with her fork. Suddenly she wasn't very hungry anymore.

She sipped at her wine watching Max who had apparently chosen to ignore her for the rest of the meal.

Such a waste, she thought to herself fuzzily.

Here in front of her sat the culmination of every woman's fantasies, in appearance, anyway.

The effect of the wine on her senses was making her honest with herself. When he wasn't talking, the man sitting in front of her was really a sight to behold. He was sinfully handsome, filled out in all the right places, yet not overly so.

His skin was flawless, and his eyes had the capability of being so expressive, when he allowed them to be. His angled jaw lent a strength to his otherwise boyish face, tempered by the softness of his lips.

There was something about him that unnerved her, made her say things she'd never normally say. She wanted to know what caused that wary look in his eyes. She wanted to know why he'd closed himself off to all but the closest members of his family.

She asked him questions she didn't dare ask herself. There was something of her she saw in him, but they were in two very different situations.

"I've been away from my mother a long time," she said quietly, and he looked up at her.

"Things happened...things that kept us apart, and now...it's not the same. It will never be the same," she said.

"I love my mother very much, and if I could go back and change anything that happened, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can't, so the only thing I can do is move on, and try to get through each day as best as I can. We all have regrets, and believe me, I have my share," she finished quietly.

Stunned that she'd blurted that out, she lowered her eyes and played with her napkin. She started to think she'd made a mistake in saying that, telling him things about herself that she shouldn't. Revealing little pieces of herself.

Her eyes raised to meet his, and for a moment, the softness of his gaze made her heart quicken and then he spoke.

"There is too much at stake with my family for me to be involved with anyone. People have...there are people out there who would like to destroy my family. People who would love nothing more than to ruin everything my father worked so hard for. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that when the time came, I would protect them. It's enough for me to handle that. I can't bring anyone else into it. It wouldn't be fair to them."

He leaned towards Liz, his eyes burning into hers as he continued.

"If you marry someone you must be willing to put their safety above everything else. Their happiness has to be your number one priority."

As if realizing that he had shown too much of himself Max relaxed back in his seat and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Anyway, I don't have the time to devote to a relationship, or to emotional attachments," he said.

Liz felt a pang of sorrow pierce her heart at his words.

"Max, that's really admirable that you feel you need to do that, but what about you? She asked.

"I take it day by day, just like you do," he answered.

She had no reply to that, his eyes on hers, and she nodded.

"I think I understand," she said, and he looked away.

"You should eat something," he said.

"I'm really not that hungry after all," Liz answered, "I don't feel very well. I shouldn't have had that wine."

"Then we should go," he said, drawing his napkin from his lap and putting it on the table.

"No," Liz protested, "please, finish your dinner."

Max shook his head.

"I'm really not as hungry as I thought I was either. I'll get the check," he said, standing.

He signaled to the waiter, and drew out his wallet, handing him a large bill.

"We have to be on our way. This should cover our dinner," Max said.

The waiter glanced at the bill and responded.

"This will more then cover it. Would you like me to get you change?"

"No, no. That will be fine. You keep it," Max responded as he waved the waiter away.

The waiter turned to help Liz with her chair and saw the dinner plates still full.

"I hope there was nothing wrong with your meal, Sir," the waiter said, concerned.

"No, everything was perfect. The lady isn't feeling well," Max said, looking at Liz.

"Have a good evening," the waiter answered, while giving Liz a sympathetic look.

Liz stood felt the world sway a bit. She'd definitely had too much wine.

"Are you all right?" Max asked, his hand moving to steady her, and then dropping quickly to his side.

"Fine," Liz mumbled. "I just had a little too much to drink on an empty stomach. I'll be fine."

Max led the way out of the restaurant to the darkened Main Street.

Both were quiet on the walk to the car, each lost in their own thoughts.

Max unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her as she got in. As she settled into the leather seat, and fastened her seatbelt, she felt wearier than she had in a long time.

Max got into the car, and started the engine, turning to look behind him as he backed the car out of the parking stall.

Liz took the opportunity to look at him again with wine-tinted vision. Yes, in another lifetime, Max would have definitely caught her eye.

Embarrassed at the thought, she closed her eyes, willing her mind to go blank. She was marrying his father! She decided that it would be best if she didn't drink anything remotely alcoholic for a long, long time.

The quiet hum of the engine evened out as he pulled back on to the highway.

She thought it best to feign sleep rather than engage in another conversation, and kept her eyes closed.

The next thing she was aware of was the sound of shifting leather.

She opened her eyes to find herself looking into the most beautiful pair of eyes...

Max.

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting up straight quickly.

"You fell asleep. We're back," he said, sitting back.

She nodded, and unhooked her safety belt.

The house was well lit, and they walked the short distance to the front door, Max opening it and stepping back to let her in first.

She still felt out of sorts, and paused at the staircase, turning toward him.

"Thank you for today," she said. "I...had a nice time."

He nodded, and she slowly made her way up the stairs.

She stopped at the door to Phillip's room, letting herself in.

It was dark.

Max was right, Phillip wasn't home yet. It was probably just as well, because she really wasn't up to talking. She walked straight through to her quarters and kicked off her shoes, climbing on to the bed.

Max was a paradox. Just when she thought she had him pegged, she saw another side of him that made her question everything she thought she knew.

It was unnerving.

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling as if the room was spinning.

What had she been thinking earlier? At this moment, she was to regard Max as an enemy. But somehow she couldn't resign herself to that thought. When he'd made his confession at dinner, she saw in his eyes the love he had for his family, so much love that he was willing to give up his own happiness for theirs. How could she fault him for that when she was doing the same thing?

Maybe that was the key, the one thing they had in common. Maybe it wasn't too late to convince him that they were kindred spirits, for different reasons.

Maybe there was still a chance he'd come around.

Her eyes snapped open, and she felt for her bag, fumbling for the pouch on the side and digging the phone out to examine it.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

Or maybe not.

*****

Max lay wide-awake, his mind working furiously to process the day's events.

He'd watched her go up the stairs, his emotions in turmoil. He'd discovered more than he'd bargained for, and it only left him with more questions.

When he'd heard her door click shut, he'd ascended the stairs to his room.

Now he lay in the dark, trying to make sense of what he'd seen and heard.

What other choice did he have? He had to live on the fringe. I'm not saying that what he did was right. I'm saying I understand it. Sometimes people have to do things that aren't pretty in order to survive. Sometimes they don't have a choice.

She'd been too adamant about her perception of Billy the Kid. He was certain now that she was hiding something. What he wasn't certain of were the circumstances. Maybe all he thought he knew was wrong.

I love my mother very much, and if I could go back and change anything that happened myself, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can't, so the only thing I can do is move on, and try to get through each day as best as I can. We all have regrets, and believe me, I have my share...

All day she had been dropping hints about the girl that hid behind the carefully maintained façade. But were they really glimpses of the real Liz or was she that good? Was she that good at deceiving people? Was she that good at deceiving me?

Max rubbed his face with his hands as his mind kept racing around. The things she'd said to him today caused him to direct questions toward himself that he hadn't wanted to deal with.

Max, that's really admirable that you feel you need to do that, but what about you?

When she'd gone into the restaurant, something had been wrong. He didn't know if it was something Juan had said, but he could sense it.

But he had a job to do. Immediately, he'd taken the phone out of her bag, and replaced it with one that looked just like it. A moment later, she'd emerged from the ladies room.

She was distant when she'd come out, and he grabbed her arm without thinking.

*flash*

She was running through trees, and she was scared and furious at the same time. It was difficult to see the landscape. It was too dark. But she could hear the tramp of heavy boots behind her.

No, she thought to herself, furious. Not again.

Her random thoughts had passed through his head, almost incoherent in their speed.

Drugs.

She was standing over a body, and she couldn't catch her breath. She'd killed this man. His skull was crushed. Her eyes traveled to a figure huddled in the corner, features obscured by shadows.

Female.

Rocking.

"I'm sorry," the woman whispered.

"This has to stop," Liz said in a trembling voice. "We can't live like this forever. We can't keep running like this."

"I'm sorry," the voice said again.

*flash*

The footsteps were gaining on her, pounding, menacing.

A hand clamped around her arm with an iron grip, halting her.

She immediately swung around, trying to scratch at the eyes of her assailant with a shriek of rage.

"I'm going to fucking rip your head off, you little bitch!" a male voice snarled.

"It was you this time. They suspected your mother, but she's too far gone. It was you..." he snarled, backhanding her across the cheek, knocking her to the ground.

For a moment, all she saw were bright pinpoints of light in front of her eyes. Then her vision cleared and she made out the dark shadow of his head leaning above her.

"You killed my brother, you miserable little shit!" he panted. "I'm going to take you apart piece by piece. You don't know what pain is."

She was yanked roughly off the ground, and felt vomit rise in her throat as her shoulder was ripped from of its socket.

She cried out and retched, praying that whatever he meant to do that it would be quick.

She saw the gleam of a serrated knife, and she felt her legs give out from under her.

She was yanked up by her hair.

She felt like she was going to lose consciousness.

All of her weight hung by her hair, being held mercilessly by her captor.

"I'm going to cut you," he seethed, his breath hot on her neck. "I'm going to cut you until you scream for mercy."

A moment later, she felt the white-hot heat of the knife slicing through the tender skin at the back of her neck.

"Carlo!" a voice shouted, and her captor froze.

"Don't do it. You know how important she is to him. You can make her pay in other ways. She's too important to the business. I know you're upset about Frank, but don't do something stupid that you'll regret later," the unseen voice said.

She felt him panting at her neck. She could practically smell the battle raging in his head.

In the next instant, she was shoved roughly to the ground, and a steel-toed boot was driven into her gut.

Max could feel her cheek against the dirt as if it were his own, and his vision grew blurry as hers did, before fading to black...

Max sat up and put his head in his hands at the memory. This was much, much worse than he had originally imagined.

Even now, his stomach turned at what he'd seen and experienced through her eyes in the flash.

These were ruthless killers, not small-time crooks.

How had she survived that? It must have been unbearable.

He wasn't sure if her mother had gotten her involved in the mess she'd been in, or if she involved herself.

Why hadn't his father seen any of this?

One thing his gut told him was that all wasn't what it had appeared to be, and the words she'd spoken earlier had taken on a whole new meaning.

When she'd started to question him at dinner, he'd still been so disturbed by what he'd seen, he'd almost slipped about the flash and seeing her memory of running away from that monster in the woods.

He'd been too careless.

But he also couldn't stop thinking about it. She'd fallen asleep on the drive home, and his eyes were drawn to her face more often than he would have liked to admit. She looked so at peace by the dashboard lights. The hardness and fear gone.

He'd seen a whole other side to her tonight, and he was having a hard time trying to deal with it.

For a crazy moment, he'd debated putting the phone back into her purse when he'd pulled up in front of the house, with an irrational sense of protectiveness flooding through his heart.

He'd almost done it too, but as he reached over, he stilled, looking at her face, so peaceful, so innocent despite the horrors he'd seen.

Then she'd woken up, and the opportunity had passed.

He rubbed his face in frustration.

He couldn't get involved. Whoever those people were, they were now a threat to his family, because she was in their home.

Picking up his phone, he dialed a long-familiar number.

"I have the phone," he said in a clipped tone. "Come and pick it up."

TBC...

As always, thanks for the feedback everyone. Glad you're enjoying this. The question as to why Max got a flash from Liz will be answered a bit later.

PART 12

Max sat at his desk in his room, trying to pore over the preliminary security plan for this year's Emmy Awards, but was having no luck keeping his attention on it.

His eyes kept straying to the cell phone on the desk, its presence in his room an accusation.

"Dammit," he muttered, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

He was doing the right thing. He knew that. So why did he feel so guilty?

The day he'd spent with Liz had been full of contrasts, there were times of tension and unspoken secrets, yet there were also times where he felt them dropping their guards and actually getting closer.

That flash he received from her only frightened him further. He did not just get flashes from anyone. None of them did.

Who was this Carlo, and why did Liz kill his brother? And who was the unnamed man who had such an "interest" in her and her mother? And how much, if any of it, did his own father know?

He had felt her fear as if it were his own. She had been so hopeless in those moments, and it had been a feeling that he himself had felt that night long ago on the beach.

Lost in that long ago memory, he didn't hear the soft click of the door.

"Maxwell," a voice said, causing his body to tense up, startled.

"Michael, how many times have I told you not to sneak in here unannounced?" he asked, turning toward his cousin.

"Habit," Michael answered, shrugging. "So, where is it?"

Max motioned with his head to the phone lying on the desk, maybe if he didn’t actually hand the phone to Michael would assuage his guilt. Instead he picked up the plans for the Emmy's trying to appear as if he were working.

Max had tried to get him to tone down his "image", but Michael had never acquiesced. His basic wardrobe was jeans, heavy boots and loud shirts. Topped with his unruly hair and tall stature, he was an imposing presence.

He felt Michael's eyes boring holes into him, as he leaned back against the desk, folding his arms over his chest.

"What's up, Max?" Michael asked.

"Nothing," Max answered, his eyes roving over the paper in front of him, hoping that he'd take the hint and leave.

"Oh yeah? Well that paper is upside down," he observed.

Max shook his head, threw the paper on his desk and got up from the chair.

"Long day?" Michael, asked with a smirk.

"Enough with the wisecracks," Max muttered, moving to stand by the window.

"That bad, huh," Michael commented.

"I got the phone, didn't I?" Max snapped, looking up at him.

Michael's eyes narrowed.

"What is up with you, Max? You've been acting weird for the last few days," Michael asked. "Is it the girl? Or is it something else?"

Max didn't want to admit to Michael that it was a bit of both. She was part of it, but it was also the things she'd forced him to think about. Things he hadn't thought about in a long time. It had been much easier to do what he had to do when he thought that she was just a threat to his family, but that flash made him realize that her secrets could very well be just as painful and dangerous as his were.

"I'm just tired Michael," he said in a resigned voice.

"Don't give me that. You're up this late in the office almost every night. What's going on?" Michael pressed.

Max stood and paced the length of the desk in agitation, and then paused.

"I don't know. I'm starting to think that maybe she isn't an enemy," Max said, with a troubled frown.

Michael sighed.

"And what's the reasoning behind that? Was it the little sad puppy dog eyes telling you that she couldn't possibly be Ms. Big Bad? Max, you know how important this is," Michael said.

"Yes, I do," Max flashed in anger.

"Then put aside what you think you see, so we can find out the truth. People can be deceiving Max. You should know that more than anyone after what happened with Portia," Michael said in frustration.

"I got a flash from her," Max said, cutting him off.

"You...what?" Michael answered in disbelief.

"I touched her, and I...saw things," Max said, practically in a whisper. "I've never gotten any flashes from anyone except you and my family. I wasn't even trying. It just...happened."

"We don't just get flashes, Max. What did you see?" Michael said, with interest. "Maybe we can use this to our advantage."

Max bit the inside of his lip, trying to think of a way to explain what he saw.

"It was confusing. There was a woman there with her. Liz was standing over a dead body, a man. I could sense that she killed him. His name was Frank. I couldn't see the woman's face. She was in shadow and I could barely hear her voice, but she kept saying she was sorry, and Liz said that they couldn't keep living like they were," he said.

"But then it was like it fast-forwarded, and she was being chased by some guy in the woods, and it was the dead man's brother. He was...hurting her. He said he was going to cut her into pieces, and he would have, I could sense it from her, but then someone stopped him. I don't know who that guy was, but he called the guy who had Liz by name. Carlo," Max said, feeling his heart quicken, remembering the fear he'd experienced during the flash.

He looked at Michael to see that he was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"He...he cut her on the back of the neck with this knife, and she passed out," he finished, and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the emotions the flash had elicited with him.

"There's someone else involved, someone who wants Liz. I saw that scar yesterday, Michael. It wasn't her dream. It was a memory," he said, looking at the phone on the desk in indecision.

Michael's eyes narrowed in thought.

"That doesn't mean anything Maxwell. How do we know that she wasn't being held by the agency, or that this Carlo guy isn't an agent himself? We've all heard how they "recruit" their lower-ranked agents. You know as well as I do that they're careful. Most of those agents never belonged to a government agency, and most of them have criminal records. Maybe she wasn't cooperating, and that's why she was in the situation she was in. You said yourself that she killed a man," Michael mused.

Max knew Michael had a point, but in those few seconds he connected with Liz he didn't feel any malice coming from her, only fear. He didn't know what to think.

"I don't know Michael. The flash wasn't enough for me to get a handle on why she was there. It was kind of erratic. I do know that she was scared," Max said in a distracted voice.

He let out a heavy breath, not sure what to think.

"What if we're wrong Michael? What if she isn't part of the agency?" he asked.

"What, you're feeling guilty about this now?" Michael asked, indicating the phone lying on the desk between them.

When Max didn’t immediately respond he continued incredulous, "Well Max Evans, I never thought I'd see the day...."

Max glared at him.

Michael was silent for a moment, his brown eyes studying Max. He could feel Michael trying to size up his state of mind.

"Let's put it this way Max. What if we're right? And anyway, if we're wrong, no one will be the wiser, but we have to know the truth," he said finally, in a soft voice.

"My Dad already knows what we're doing," Max said. "He told me to go ahead and do what I have to do, but in the meantime I'm to be civil to Liz."

"So he's checked her out then already," Michael said.

"I don't know. I don't know anything," Max said, frustrated. "He acts like he has, but yet how could he have and still have her around? The way he's been acting since Mom died, I...I can't count on his decision making abilities."

Michael nodded.

"All the more reason to finish what we started. I'll find out who this Maria chick is. Who knows? If this whole thing turns out to be nothing, you can just tell your dad that you want to take his fiance on a date," Michael snorted.

"Michael, say that one more time, and I swear..." Max grated.

"Why did you get a flash from her? Why are you suddenly so concerned with what happened to her in her past? Why do you care at all?" Michael asked in accusation.

"I don't dammit!" Max snapped. "But I want us to be safe. I hate the fact that my father is in love with a human."

"I think the only reason you won't admit that something's going on inside you is because she's human," Michael goaded.

Max felt his anger reach the boiling point, and Michael backed down.

"Don't get me wrong, Max. I've always agreed with you, that we shouldn’t get involved. There's too much at stake, and who the hell knows what the consequences could be? I wasn't happy with Isabel getting involved with Alex either, you know that. He was an exception, and we all got lucky. It could have turned out to be a mess. I'm not happy about your Dad bringing Liz home either. All I'm saying is that you better really figure out what's going on inside your head. If you don't deal with that first, then you're putting us all in danger if any of what we suspect is true. Recognize it for what it is, and you can make clear decisions," he said, picking the phone up off the desk.

"I'll have it back to you in the morning," Michael said, and Max nodded without looking at his best friend.

He listened to the click of the door as Michael shut it, and growled in frustration.

Michael was right. He was allowing himself to be detoured from what his purpose was, and he wasn't sure why. What was it about this girl that muddled his thinking?

*******

Late the next morning, a soft knock pulled Liz from her reverie standing at the window looking out over the gardens.

She hadn't slept well the night before, and the morning had brought no further comfort.

She'd gone downstairs for a walk in the garden early, and had brought her coffee to her room, not ready to see either Max or Phillip.

"Come in," she said softly, already knowing it was Phillip.

"Good morning," Phillip said as he shut the door.

"You were out late," Liz observed, and he nodded.

"Just trying to re-establish presence around the office, for the little good it did. Max has done a smashing job to make sure that the employees humor me," he said wryly, but she didn't miss the trace of pride in his voice.

"I didn't want to wake you last night. How did it go?" Phillip asked, as they both sat at the small table near the window.

"He took the bait," Liz said in a flat tone.

Phillip looked at her in curiosity.

"You make that sound as if it were a bad thing," he observed. "If he took the phone, then things are going exactly as we wanted them to."

Liz let out a deep sigh before pasting a smile on her face and turning to Phillip, "No, you're right," she said.

"But..." he prompted.

"It's nothing," she said, shaking her head.

"Tell me," he said in a gentle voice.

She sighed and turned to look out the window.

"I just hate lying to your family," she said. "I hate that I can't be honest. I can't stand lying to anyone, even after all this time. I was stupid in my assumptions yesterday. Max and I were getting along, and I almost believed that maybe he warmed up to me a little. But it was a manipulation to get what he wanted."

Phillip studied Liz a moment before asking, “And that bothered you?”

Liz studied her coffee for a moment, thinking of her answer before looking back at Phillip and nodding, “Yeah, it did.”

"Liz, there's something you have to understand about Max," Phillip said, sitting back. "The way he's acting isn't personal. He does have many good points, loyalty being one of them."

A tiny voice in her mind was reminding her of her thoughts of the night before, that maybe he could be trusted.

"You really don't think that he'd understand...if we told him the truth?" she asked.

Phillip paused and shook his head.

"There are many things you don't know about us, Liz. Maybe I am wrong not to tell you some of it, but it isn't really just up to me. I can't in good conscience reveal those things without Max and Isabel's approval, because it involves them. Just as I wouldn't break your confidence. It wouldn't be fair," he said.

"I understand," she said, pausing.

"This...secret, whatever it is, it has something to do with Diane too, doesn't it?" Liz returned quietly.

Phillip looked momentarily stunned, and then quickly recovered.

"Yes, I suppose it does," he answered.

"My mother never told me the whole story. She told me enough for it to make sense, but I knew there were some pieces missing," Liz said, resting her chin on her wrist. "The story was pretty much the same one you told me, enough information so I understood, but vague enough for me to know there was more to it. She used to get so upset when I asked her about it and after awhile, I didn't have the heart to bring it up again. It upset her so."

"Liz, I wish that I could tell you. I just can't. But I can tell you this. It doesn't have anything to do with you directly, and if I didn't think we could protect you, I wouldn't have approached you offering you that protection," he answered.

"Max thinks that I am a threat to the safety of your family, Phillip. Am I more of a threat then even I know?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

Phillip paused, not sure how to answer her honestly without revealing their heritage.

"No, and I don't want you to worry about it," he answered, taking her hand.

"It's not Carlo I'm worried about. It's David that will be trouble," she said, darkly.

"He's never going to bother you again," Phillip said, adamant. "He's never going to hurt anyone again."

"It's easy to say that, but Phillip, you didn't see what they did to my mother. She never really recovered from that. She's never been right since, and I blame him for where she is right now," she said, anger lacing her voice.

"I know," Phillip said, reaching out to touch her hair in a sympathetic gesture. "I know what you've been through, and what you two had to do to survive. You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened."

She pushed her fingers into her hair at her temples and rested her elbows on the table.

"Phillip, how can I not blame myself? I killed another human being. Nothing can excuse that," she said.

"Not even what he planned to do to you?" Phillip asked in a pointed tone.

Pain crossed her features and he regretted bringing it up.

She sighed, and he could see the torment that still plagued her mind. She tried to change the subject.

"Phillip, I don't want to be the cause of any rift between you and Max. I...I know how important family is, and I know what it's like to be so close and yet light years away. I don't want either of you to go through that, not when you can change your relationship for the better," she said, biting the inside of her lip.

"It's too late for my mother and I, but it's not too late for the two of you. If I'm going to be the cause of any problems between you and Max, then I don't want to be here. I...saw another side of him yesterday, and he loves you. He loves you all," she said.

Phillip chuckled.

"So, you saw that Max indeed isn't a complete ogre?" he asked.

Liz looked away, a tinge of pink staining her lips. Phillip brow drew in.

"I just...I got a glimpse of things from his side," she said in a low voice.

"I see," he said in a musing tone.

"And I can relate, because I'm in the same situation," she finished quickly. "I still think he's obnoxious, but I think I understand it a bit more. I saw a different side of him yesterday."

Phillips brow raised in speculation.

"Well it sounds like things went well," he asked.

"Well? No, I wouldn't say well," she answered, with a frustrated sigh.

"No? What happened?" he asked.

She shook her head in a dismissive gesture.

"We almost had another repeat of the night before in the garden yesterday morning, but to his credit, Max reigned his temper in," she said half-irritated.

"It was partly my fault too," she amended. "I don't know what it is about him, but I can't seem to stop myself from saying whatever's on my mind, and that's not good. I don't even know the man, but he can be so infuriating!"

"Yes, he can," Phillip said with a knowing chuckle.

"Anyway, we got past that, and he took me to Old Mesilla. He asked me about my mother, and why she isn't around," she said. "I told him that circumstances kept us from being close."

"Which is true," Phillip observed.

"Technically," she said, "but I told him I didn't want to talk about it, and he let it drop. We looked around in the stores a bit, and then went to look for a tour guide. I called Maria, and she told me she got the dossier," she said and Phillip nodded.

"Doesn't sound so bad to me," he mused, and Liz closed her eyes slowly, and opened them again, staring at the table.

"I...was watching him inside the store, flirting with the woman behind the counter, and made an off-hand comment I probably shouldn't have," she admitted.

"But I was only trying to joke with him," she protested quickly.

"I made a comment about his charming the woman after he was unable to find a real tour guide. I asked him if that was how he operates, and he said that some people are immune to it. So I told him he should practice hiding that arrogant bastard that wants to pop out more often than he should," she finished in a lame voice, as Phillip burst out laughing.

"How did he respond to that?" he asked.

"He said I was probably right," she said.

Phillip was surprised that Max would admit to that.

"Interesting," he said.

"Then I asked him why he didn't have a wife, or female companionship, and he said it was because he didn't want it. That's when things got muddled," she said.

"What do you mean?" Phillip asked.

"Well, I sort of drew the wrong conclusion," she said, her face reddening.

"Come again?" Phillip asked, confused.

"Since he said he didn't want female companionship, I sort of assumed that maybe he wanted another kind, and you hadn't told me," she said.

"I thought that maybe that was the secret you weren't telling me," she finished in a low voice.

Another laugh burst from his lips, as he was unable to contain his mirth. He started to quiet down when he looked at the expression on Liz’s face. It set him into another fit of laughter.

"I can only imagine how that went over," Phillip chuckled.

"And you'd be right," Liz answered, rolling her eyes with a smile.

In the next moment, the smile faded.

"Then, the day just got stranger from there, with the tour and dinner..." she trailed off.

"Strange?" he prompted.

"More...uncomfortable, I guess. After we finished the tour, the guide thought we were, you know, together, and when I explained we weren't he wanted to know why. I didn't want to start explaining, so I just said it was complicated. Then he went on this little tangent about nothing worth anything isn't complicated," she finished.

"It was kind of weird, so I thought that would be a good time to leave my bag with Max," she said.

Phillip could see that she was holding something back and her expression told him what he hadn't anticipated when he'd planned to take her under his wing.

Liz was attracted to his son.

He smiled inwardly.

His only regret in bringing Liz here was that he was doing it under the guise of the two of them being in love, which meant that she would be safe, but at the cost of a loveless marriage. For though he was fond of her, his heart remained tied to Diane, and always would.

This changed everything. He'd seen his son's reaction to Liz the day they'd gotten to the house, and he suspected that there was another reason Max took Liz out yesterday, one that he'd never admit to, probably even to himself.

Though he hadn't wanted to admit it, nor dared to voice them to Liz, he'd had his doubts about his son coming around. Then he'd spotted them in the garden the morning before.

As they sat on the bench, Phillip could see his normally collected son ill at ease, and it was obvious she was affecting him. Max was not used to being questioned or disagreed with, and Liz somehow got under his skin, something he never let anyone do.

Phillip could understand it, because there was certainly something different about her. It went beyond her physical beauty. To know the true beauty of Liz was to know the reasons behind the pain that created the layered facets in her expressive eyes, or the fire that still surfaced often, even after everything she'd been through. Those things tempered with the sweetness that still lived within her made her alluring, and Max had only seen the beginning of it.

He hadn't dared to think that Liz might be attracted to Max as well. At best, he'd hoped that his suspicion of Max's attraction to her might soften his attitude toward her. But it was impossible to miss the blush on her cheeks as she spoke of him.

If what he suspected of Max was true, Max had surely waged an internal battle with himself, if he was even admitting to his attraction. On one hand, perhaps he found Liz attractive. But on the other hand she was human, and that alone probably scared the hell out of him.

Phillip reminded himself that he would have to handle this with care. Max's fear and distrust of humans could cause him to become more vigilant in his search to find out the truth about Liz, instead of dealing with his own feelings.

This new development with Liz could help or hurt matters as well. He knew that even if she were attracted to Max, she wouldn't willingly act on it. After all, she was supposed to be marrying Phillip.

He knew better than to voice his suspicions to either one of them. As strong-willed as they both were, he was sure that it would only make matters worse.

No, instead he would have to foster an environment where the two would have to spend time to recognize what Phillip dared not mention.

Her voice broke into his thoughts.

"I left Max to talk to him, and when I came out of the ladies room at the restaurant, he asked if I wanted to have dinner there, but then he acted strange, and was very quiet through most of dinner," she said.

"But he did say that there are people who want to destroy your family, and that he made a promise to himself that he would protect all of you," she said.

"I'm doing the same thing, so how can I hold that against him?" she asked in a forlorn tone.

Again, he got the feeling that she was holding something back from him. He wished that he had the means to connect with her now more than ever. When he touched her, he got vague images from her mind, but nothing substantial. Strong connections came with strong emotions, such as attraction, love or hate, and it was an effort that under normal circumstances often took great concentration. Healing someone also opened the mind and soul to his kind, as well as the act of making love. But though he was fond of Liz, he did not possess the intense feelings that would bring on a connection, nor did Liz feel that way about him, which would be needed to amplify it.

"You don't have to hold it against him," Phillip said. "Look, everything's going smoothly. Just keep up appearances. You're going to see your mother today, right?"

She nodded, and he could see that she desperately wanted to believe he was right.

If he had his way, then everything would work out better than he could have hoped for. He just had to shake things up a bit.

He watched as her eyes widened as she remembered something.

"Oh, there's one other place I've been invited to...." she said, with a grin.

tbc...

Sorry for the delay everyone. R/L has swept down on me in a nasty way this past week or so. I haven't been able to do much of anything as far as writing. Thankfully, this part was already written. Genesis is in stasis at the moment, as I barely have time to breathe. I am going to try to do some work on it again tomorrow.

As always, thank you so much for the feedback. I know much of this is still keeping you guessing, and I am betting this part isn't going to help any, but it might answer some questions, and might soften everyone toward Max...maybe just a little bit.

On with the story.....

Part 13

Showered and dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and navy blue tie, feeling a little out of sorts, Max was heading toward the stairs, getting ready to leave for work when conversation in the hall inadvertently caught his attention.

The mention of Liz's name caught his attention, and he stopped realizing it was Charlotte, the housekeeper.

"Will you be needing anything today, Ms. Delatorre?" she asked.

"Oh no, thank you Charlotte," he heard Liz answer in her husky voice. "I have some errands I have to run. But thank you for asking."

"De nada Senorita," Charlotte said.

“Errands”, Where was she going?

Max backed away from the steps in silence and backtracked to his room. Shutting the door, he walked over to his phone, picked it up and dialed his office.

His secretary Michelle picked up the on the second ring.

"Evans International Security. Max Evans' office, may I help you?" she answered pleasantly.

"Michelle, this is Max," he said in a low voice.

"Good Morning, Mr. Evans," she said.

"Listen, something came up and I'm not going to be able to make it in today. Give Ms. Davidson a call at her hotel and tell her that I need to reschedule our meeting this afternoon, and if you see my father, don’t volunteer any information. Just field my calls, and if anything comes up, you can reach me on my cell," he said.

"Um, ok Mr. Evans..." Michelle said in uncharacteristic hesitation, the shock evident in her voice. He suppressed a small grin, knowing the reason. For as long as she'd been with him, he'd never been one to take a day off. In fact, most days he didn't leave his office at all, unless he traveled on business.

"I'll call you to check on things later," he said, and after saying goodbye, he hung up the phone.

For over an hour he sat close to the window, waiting for any sign of Liz's departure, trying to make sense of his confused thoughts.

He'd almost decided to give it up and head into the office, when he heard her voice through the open window, and it seemed as if every nerve in his body responded.

He shook it off as he heard her soft laughter fill the air, and Manuel's answering murmur. He glanced out the window in time to see Manuel's son Rafe holding the door of the car open for her. The closing of the car door spurred him into action, and he quickly made his way to the front door, sprinting down the stairs two at a time and coming to a sliding stop at the door. He ignored the strange look he was getting from Charlotte as he stealthily pulled aside the curtain and peered out of the door's sidelight just in time to see the car pulling down the driveway.

Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he opened the door and cut across the gravel toward where Manuel stood wiping his car off with a cloth.

"I'm just going to take the Rover," Max called out, and Manuel nodded.

"Have a good day, Max," Manuel said, and Max waved at him as he got into the car.

Max started the engine and began to move down the driveway. Up ahead at the gate, he spotted the car, his father's Catera, turn right toward the highway.

It wasn't much of an effort for Max to follow her. He kept a sizable distance between his car and hers.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulled into the guarded gates of the New Mexico Woman's Correctional Facility.

Surrounded by barbed wire, the compound was marked by a guard tower, where armed officer's kept a careful watch. Barbed wire skirted the top of the electrified fence, and Max felt an insidious dislike for the place.

He parallel parked on the side of the road and watched as she checked in with the guard at the booth and then drove through. She parked in the visitor's area and got out of the car, dressed in black pants and a black, form-fitting jacket. She passed inside the glass doors.

So, she was visiting her mother, he mused.

His cell phone rang shrilly, startling him.

"Evans," he said, after pushing the send button.

"Max, its me," Michael said. "I'm dropping the phone off at the house. I'll leave it inside the desk."

"Did you find anything?" Max asked.

"That number belongs to one Marisol DeMartino, residing in Palmdale, California," Michael answered.

"So you think Marisol is Maria," Max mused. Max thought about this new information a moment before suggesting, "Maybe you should get a flight."

"I'm already on it," Michael answered. “I have a flight out in a couple of hours. I'll let you know when I have anything."

"Thanks Michael," Max said.

"Remember what I said Max," Michael warned.

"Yeah I will," Max murmured.

"See you in a day or two, hopefully," Michael said.

"Yeah, ok. Be careful," Max said.

He hung up the phone and leaned his head back against the headrest, preparing to wait it out.

He wasn't sure he liked where this was going. He hadn't felt conflicted like this in a long time. On some level, he felt that Liz was not the con-artist he had surmised her to be. Yet he knew that she was hiding something, and he had to find out what that danger was before it came knocking on their front door.

Almost two hours later, she emerged again from the building. She started the engine and left the parking lot. Max ducked to avoid being seen.

The car sped by without slowing.

He sat for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought, debating whether he should do what he was thinking of doing, and then pulled into the entrance of the prison.

He'd subconsciously been putting this off, but it was impossible to ignore now.

Stopping at the booth, he greeted the guard.

"What's your business here today, Sir?" he asked.

"I'm here to see the warden," Max answered.

"Is he expecting you?" The guard asked, pulling out his clipboard.

"No, but he'll see me. My name is Max Evans," he said.

"Hold on just for a minute," the guard said, picking up the phone.

A moment later, Max was waved through. He parked the car in the same lot Liz had been in only moments before, and walked into the building. After being cleared, he was shown to the Warden's Office.

The door opened just as he reached it.

"Max, you’re the last person I expected. It's been a long time. What's the occasion?" the handsome man said in a jovial voice, reaching out his hand.

Max took it and shook it.

"Hey Kyle, yeah I know it's been awhile," he said, as he followed him into the office, sitting down as the man shut the door. "How's the wife?"

"Good, good," Kyle answered. "She's doing really well. She's in remission, in fact."

"That's great," Max said, with a small smile.

Max thought back to the one time a year and a half before, when he softened toward humans.

Kyle Valenti’s wife had been attacked in Las Cruces. She was hospitalized for months, her face beaten badly, both arms broken, multiple rib fractures. She couldn't remember much of anything helpful, except his eyes and hair color, blue and blond. The only clue they police had to go on was an old black and white photo of a farm, enclosed in a white envelope, that must have fallen out of the attacker's pocket. It turned up no prints.

Max had seen Kyle on the news, with a plea to anyone who had seen what happened to his wife to come forward. His wife Jenny, was dealing with cancer, and in fact was going for one of her check-ups at the hospital when the attack occurred in the hospital parking lot.

Something about Kyle's plea struck a chord with Max, and reminded him of his mother. For most of that night, he fought with himself, knowing that he shouldn’t get involved.

But the next morning, he called and asked to speak with Kyle, and offered his services.

They’d met, and Max could see the pain and torment that wracked the man’s features, and knew that he’d done the right thing.

Kyle had been doubtful at first, but Max had convinced him that they had the highest technology available, and if there were something to be found, he would find it.

Kyle had gotten a hold of the photo and gave it to Max. Max had it analyzed with state of the art equipment that wasn't available even to law enforcement, and was able to glean DNA from the saliva on the envelope that contained the photo. A miniscule amount of dead skin cells were found on the edge of the photo, and Max was able to match that to the material from the envelope.

Max had come to Kyle with the information, including name and address of the attacker, just twenty minutes away.

"I want the bastard to pay," Kyle had said, tears filling his eyes.

Max had justified it as a beneficial contact for the business. But somewhere deep in his heart, he understood the need for justice when those you loved were hurt. Kyle’s wife's situation had reminded Max of his mother when she had been sick, and if anyone had done that to her, he was sure that he would have done much worse.

"Look, I told the police we would cooperate in any way we could," Max said. "But I could hold off a few days if you want me to, you know, take of some other things first. It's not like they have any real leads," he had said. "Or, we might just never turn up anything at all."

Kyle looked at him, understanding the meaning behind his words.

"I love Jenny more than life, Max, and I couldn't stand to see her the way she was before she was attacked. Now, it's almost unbearable. She didn't deserve it," he said in a low voice.

Max had nodded.

"Thank you, and if there's ever anything I can do for you, you just let me know," he said, and Max knew he meant every word he said.

The evidence was returned to the police, and two nights later, the attacker was mysteriously murdered in his apartment. It was suspected by the police to be gang-related with no known suspect only a bandana of a certain color, but Max had an idea of what really happened, and he never said a word. Later Max had paid a visit to the hospital to visit Jenny. She was asleep when he came and he made sure not to wake her, but she wouldn’t be needing the chemotherapy and radiation ever again.

No one, not even Michael had known what he had done.

He wondered what it was like to love someone so much that you would kill to protect them. He suspected he would do the same for his family, but it was a different kind of love. The kind of love Kyle had for his wife was something Max would have been envious of, if he had allowed himself to think of it. He wondered if Liz had killed the man Frank for love, and if she did, what kind of man deserved that kind of fierce devotion.

Kyle looked at him in expectation; the unspoken gratitude still in his eyes spoke volumes. Max wondered if he would still feel the same if he knew how different he was. He wondered what his reaction would be if he knew that an extra-terrestrial had helped him to get rid of the attacker

"I'm glad to hear she's well," Max said.

"So, what can I do for you?" Kyle asked, clasping his hands on the desk.

"I need to ask a favor," Max said, leaning back in his chair.

Kyle looked at him with curiosity.

"You know I'll do whatever I can," Kyle answered.

"I...need to get some information on a prisoner. Her name is Sharon Cruz, but she can't know I'm here," he said.

Kyle nodded.

"So, how do you want to go about it?" he asked.

"Is there anyone here, that could ask her some questions under surveillance? You know... casual surveillance?" Max asked.

Kyle rubbed his hand across his mouth in thought, and looked at Max with interest.

"You sure choose the interesting ones, Max," he answered.

"What do you mean?" Max asked, with curiosity.

"Inmate Cruz is definitely not one of our model prisoners," he said.

"Meaning..." Max prompted.

"You'll see for yourself," he said, standing up. "She's only been here two and a half months, transferred here from California under "special dispensation", which pretty much means "take her and don’t ask any questions."

Flags went up in Max's head.

"I'll get one of the guards to talk to her cell-mate. The cells are under surveillance anyway. What is it you need to know?" Kyle asked.

"I need to know anything she'll reveal about her daughter, if they're close, or in constant contact, or any of her own activities before she wound up in here," Max said.

Kyle made a call to one of the guards on the cell-block. He gave the guard instructions and motioned for Max to follow him.

"I'll take you to the viewing room, and you can watch from there," Kyle explained.

"We can try, but I can't promise anything. Her cell-mate is cooperative enough. I'll just offer her a little more free time during rec period and she'll go along with it. You can watch the conversation, and I can even get you a copy of the tape, but I can't guarantee you'll hear what you need to," he continued.

"Anything at all will be more than I know now," Max answered.

Kyle nodded.

They entered a white-washed room with a large control board and monitors against the wall. The monitors showed various cells, hallways and open areas throughout the facility.

Kyle went over to the panel and flipped a switch and hit a number on the keypad.

On the large center screen, a cell appeared. Max peered at the image, seeing the woman lounged out on her cot.

"Is that her?" Max asked.

Kyle nodded, and his radio beeped. He pulled it from his belt and started to speak to the guard.

Max stared at the woman on the screen.

Her insolent expression spoke of a hard life. Her dark hair lay listlessly over her forehead, and her clothes looked like they'd seen better days. Was this the woman who had raised Liz? She seemed so...unlike the woman who was residing at his home. There was a basic physical resemblance, but this woman's eyes were hardened, where Liz's were not. Deep lines rimmed her mouth and the area around her eyes.

"Max, he's got her cell-mate with him. Is there anything she might be able to tell you beforehand? I'll have the guard ask her," Kyle said, causing Max to turn his attention from the monitor.

"Uh...yeah. Anything she knows about her daughter would be great," Max answered.

"Does she know anything about her daughter?" Kyle asked into the receiver.

A moment later, the guard responded.

"Yeah, she says her daughter is a piece of work. A real con-artist. She says she's working on some big scam right now. Easy money she's going to be scrubbing off some fools. She says the kid knows things about these people. Things that might get her some extra cash from some really important government people. She's keeping quiet on it for the time being. She says the kid's smart. She's gonna wait for the right moment, for maximum compensation," the guard said, and Max stiffened.

Kyle looked at him, concerned.

"Do you know what she's talking about?" Kyle asked.

"I think so," Max muttered, his jaw tightening. Michael must be right. She was free-lancing for the Special Unit.

"Anything else?" Kyle said into the speaker.

There was a short pause as Max's mind worked itself into a fury.

"Nope, not about the kid," the guard answered.

"She was here today. Ask her to ask the woman about her daughter's visit," Max said in a hard voice.

Kyle nodded and relayed the instructions.

A few moments later, the woman walked into the cell, and flopped on her bed. Kyle turned the volume up.

"Hey Nancy," the woman said nonchalantly, "how was your visit with your kid?"

"What do you care?" Nancy muttered.

"Just making conversation," the woman shrugged, glancing surreptitiously at the camera.

"She's an ungrateful little slut is what she is," Nancy answered darkly. "Little bitch comes here and doesn't even leave me any money. She thinks she's going to be living the high life, but let me tell you, I think she's getting herself in too deep. I told her not to be stupid. That thing she's got going, it will either set her up for life, or get her ass killed. She thinks she can play with the big boys, but she has no idea what she's in for. I told her to play it cool. As it is, this place is the fucking Ritz compared to the shit-hole I came from in California. I don't want her screwing this up for me, and I told her I'd kick her ass if she does."

"What's she up to?" the woman asked.

"I already told you, I ain't telling a small-time asshole like you," Nancy retorted. "Alls I know is that if she doesn't fuck this up, I'll be set for life when I get out of here. Now shut the fuck up or get out of here. You're annoying the shit out of me."

The woman shrugged and got up, leaving the cell.

******

Kyle turned to Max in apology.

“Sorry, that wasn’t much, but like I said, she’s not a particularly cooperative inmate. I don’t want to push it. If I send her cell-mate back in, she might get violent,” he said.

Max turned toward him.

“No, that’s ok Kyle. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt,” Max said with a tight smile. “I got more out of that than you realize. I know I’ve put you in a sticky situation as it is.”

Kyle shook his head emphatically.

“Max, after what you did for me...for Jenny, I could never begin to repay you. You put yourself on the line, and I can’t thank you enough,” he said.

“I don’t know how I would feel if I were in your shoes, but I think I would have done the same,” Max said. “I’m...glad I could help.”

“You did more than help,” Kyle said meaningfully. “You didn’t even know me, or how I might have reacted, but you helped me anyway. What I did...it probably wasn’t the right thing to do, but dammit I don’t think I could have lived with what happened if that bastard was still breathing.”

“I know what it’s like to have to protect your loved ones,” Max said quietly.

Kyle nodded, and an uncomfortable silence settled between them.

“I’ll get you a copy of the tape,” Kyle said.

“Thanks,” Max answered.

“Kyle,” he said on impulse, and the man turned toward him.

“Does the facility videotape the visits with the inmates?” he asked.

“Yeah, standard procedure,” Kyle answered.

“I’d like...I need to see her last visit if that’s possible,” Max said.

“Sure,” Kyle said with a shrug. “I can get a copy of that for you too, if you want.”

Max nodded.

Max stuck around and had lunch with Kyle, and afterwards, his secretary brought the tapes in.

After a quick viewing of the visit, Max was more dismayed then he was before he’d come.

Though the tape was in black and white, choppy and without sound, as most surveillance tapes were, he was convinced that he and Michael had been right. Her back had been to the camera, but her long brown hair and black clothes confirmed what he already knew.

Shortly after that, he bid his goodbye to Kyle.

Getting into his car, he tried to decide what to do with this information. Should he confront his father with it?

Liz’s mother was definitely an unsavory individual, and yet she seemed so unlike her daughter. Could she be that good of an actress?

As disturbed by this latest revelation as he was, somehow it just didn’t sit right with him. The whole picture just seemed “off”.

These “important” people she was talking to could be the Special Unit. How was she contacting them, through Maria? Were they both working for them, or just giving them information?

He wasn’t sure what to think. He knew that the Unit worked outside the boundaries of the law, and Michael was right, the people working for them weren’t always within the law either.

What would his father’s reaction be if he told him this? Could he afford to wait for more proof any longer?

He had to talk to Isabel.

He started the car and began the short drive to her home.

Part 14

Max pulled into the driveway of Isabel and Alex Whitman's perfectly manicured, opulent home. The neighborhood attracted young, well-to-do professionals who liked the idea of community, but still wanted their space.

Without hesitation, he got out of the car and headed for the front door, ringing the bell.

A very surprised Isabel greeted him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Max?" she asked, an expression of disbelief on her face.

"I need to talk to you," he said, pushing his way past her into the house.

"Max, I have a guest..." she said her voice trailing off.

He didn"t give her time to object, and continued across the hall. She glanced toward the back of the house and shut the door. She followed him into the drawing room, with a suspicious look, and he knew the reason. He was never out of the office on a weekday, unless it was on business, and he never stopped by her house unannounced.

He felt her eyes on him as he paced the floor in agitation. She stood with her arms folded, watching him for a long moment before she spoke.

"You're wearing a hole in my very expensive Oriental rug," she said sarcastically. "If you need to get something off your chest Max, then I'm all ears, but sit down. You're making me nervous."

Max glared at her and dropped sullenly onto the expensively overstuffed sofa.

"So, what's so important that you aren't in the office and felt you had to drop by?" she asked dryly, settling into a chair across from him, pushing her long blond hair behind her shoulder.

Max glanced at her and realized he hadn't really noticed her in a long time.

She had become a confident young woman with her own dreams and ideals, and he hadn't even noticed.

But then again, he hadn't noticed so many things, so caught up in his job.

Max sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face in frustration.

"What is it, Max?" she asked again, her voice softening, and he heard the concern in her voice.

"I don't know," he said, wearily. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Spill it," she said, leaning on the arm of the chair.

"Michael and I have found something on Liz," he said, looking up at her.

"Max," she started, and he cut her off.

"We found some information. Michael is taking a plane out to follow up on one of the leads, a friend of hers," he continued.

"And that's why you're here?" she said impatiently. "Max, it really isn't a good time for me to talk about this."

"Her mother is in a women's correctional facility just outside of town, and I think she may be talking to the Special Unit to get more money, if she's not one of them herself," he said, looking for a reaction.

He was puzzled by the strange look on his sister's face.

"I don't know whether to tell Dad yet. He might just fly off the handle," he said, and she remained silent.

He stared at her for a moment, and when she didn't respond, he couldn't keep quiet.

"What?" he asked, in exasperation.

"The person you're investigating is waiting for me in the sun room out back at this very moment," Isabel said in a low voice.

"She's here?" Max said, his eyes narrowing. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I told you I had company," Isabel answered. "You didn't give me a chance to tell you who, and I figured it was something pretty important for you to show up here in broad daylight."

Max mumbled a curse under his breath and rose from the sofa.

"I'm going to go," he said, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

He started toward the door and meant to give her a peck on the cheek before he left the room, but she pulled her head away and grabbed his arm.

"Why are you really here, Max?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

"I already knew you were looking for something on her. Hell, even Dad knew," she said with a humorless laugh.

"You got what you were looking for, obviously. Now you can kick her out on her ass, so why bother to tell me?" she asked, and he looked down at the floor.

He knew exactly what she was thinking. He and Michael had pretty much kept her in the dark about most things, ever since they'd found out about Alex.

As children, the three of them had always been close. Max had always felt protective of his sister because she'd almost been the one to be killed by the nanny they trusted.

But love affair with a human had been a sticking point between them. He had truly wanted to be happy, and he'd grown to really like Alex. But that thing, what he perceived to be a betrayal of the family and all the work his father had done, had been a tangible entity between them, ever since.

"I don't know," he said in an agitated voice. "Maybe because I can't get in touch with Michael, and I needed to tell someone. This could be dangerous, for all of us."

Isabel fixed on his eyes with an unwavering stare, clearly not believing one bit of it.

"Do what you have to do Max," she said in a flat tone. "You don't need my blessing. You're going to do what you have to do whether I approve or not."

She paused.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just hope you're sure. You don't really know anything about her. Did it ever occur to you that her mother might be a different type of person than she is? That maybe she's making Liz do whatever it is she's doing, if she's doing anything at all?" she asked.

"Since when do you know her so well to make a judgment call?" he asked indignantly.

"I don't," she said, suddenly uncomfortable.

Max knew there was something she wasn't telling him.

"Isabel, how did she wind up here?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I asked her to come," she said, not meeting her eyes. "I called her this morning, and asker her to come for lunch. She agreed."

He glared at her.

"Oh what, Max?" she said exasperated. "You've known her all of two days and have made your decision that she's our enemy. I just wanted to see what she's like. You know, feel her out."

"Why, Isabel?" he prodded, having a sneaking suspicion he already knew.

He shot her a look that dared her to argue with him.

She sighed in defeat.

"All right! So I did a little dream walk on her last night," she blurted.

"I can't believe you," he grated. "We agreed, no using our powers, ever!"

"Don't lecture me, Max!" she hissed in an angry whisper. "You're not my keeper."

He walked away from her, trying to get a handle on his anger. When did everything get so out of control? He wouldn't be surprised if the next revelation would be Michael telling him that he wanted to join the US Army.

"Max, I'm sorry. I was just curious, and worried about Dad, like you are, and she was none the wiser," she said softly.

"What if she had realized what you were doing?" he asked.

"She didn't. I knew what I was doing," she said, her eyes flashing.

"Oh really, so does that mean you've been practicing?" he said in disbelief.

"Only recreationally," she said in a placating voice.

Max's eyes went to the ceiling as he shook his head.

"Max, my abilities aren't as...obvious as yours are, and I haven't been using any of them, except that one," she said, her jaw tilting angrily.

"It's not something I just took up. You know, you really must think I'm stupid, don't you?" she asked in disgust.

"Did you think I just blindly fell into Alex's arms? That I would just make that kind of commitment and put my heart and life in his hands without knowing how he really felt about what I am?" she asked.

Max stared at her in stunned silence.

"Don't worry your controlling little head about whether she found me out. I know what I'm doing," she said in a low voice.

"That's not the point. We made a rule between all of us, for our own safety," he said.

"No. Dad made that rule, and you and Michael enforced it. Mom and I didn't have a choice in it," she grated. "I wanted to know what she was about, and after your rant the first day she arrived, I took one of Dad's photos of the two of them home with me. She didn't even know I was there."

Max's shoulders slumped.

"What did you see?" he asked.

She shook her head, and he could see she was disturbed.

"It wasn't pretty, and I could tell she was scared. Someone was terrorizing her," she said, in a disturbed tone.

"I could feel her fear, and it felt like it was smothering me. I'm not sure she's working for anyone by choice, Max, if she is at all," she said.

"There was a man, and he...he was saying terrible things to her, telling her that if he had his way she would be dead, but she was useful to them, and when that usefulness ran out, his face would be the first one she saw. He...he was hurting her," she said in a trembling voice.

Max felt a sense of deja-vu in hearing those words. He had felt that same smothering fear as well when he'd received the flash from Liz the night before. He pushed that thought out of his head and decided to remain quiet about the flash. It would only complicate things if he told Isabel.

"Isabel, I heard her mother. I heard what she said, she's pulling a con," he started to protest angrily.

"What you heard, and what might actually be the truth are two different animals," Isabel insisted.

"Do you know that for sure?" he challenged her.

She paused.

"No," she said hesitantly.

"Iz, whatever she's doing, it isn't good," Max muttered. "It doesn't matter. It puts us in danger, and we have to do something about it."

"Do what? What, are you going to kill her? Make her talk? Do you really think she'd tell you the truth? She's not a bad person, Max. I can sense it. That's why I invited her over today, to feel her out. That's why I dream-walked her in the first place. I...I want to see Dad happy. He hasn't been himself since Mom died," she said in a low voice.

"Don't you think I know that?" he hissed.

"No, I think you are ignoring it," she countered. "Just like you've been ignoring a lot of things for a long time."

"Like what?" he seethed, furious. "Am I ignoring the fact that we're different? Or that if I don't protect the family no one will? Am I ignoring the fact that your happiness is important?"

"Like the fact that you live for work, and you have no life outside of it. You have no friends outside of Michael. You have no one that cares about you outside of us, the family," she said.

Max felt the sting of her words keenly.

"Max, this...thing you've burdened yourself with. It's not everything. I appreciate everything you and Michael have done, you know that. But I think even Michael is tired of this. He does it for you. He does it because he looks up to you. We all do. But there hasn't been an agent around in a very long time, and if there was we have the resources to handle it," she said.

She paused and met his hurt gaze and sighed, before continuing.

"Max, it's time to stop hiding behind it. You're hiding from life. I don't know what it is you're afraid of, but if you keep this up, you're going to look back one day and will be sorry. Dad was, and he's trying to make the best of what he has left. I know that this whole situation is risky, with Liz. But Max, I know why he had to try," she said pointedly.

Max buried the hurt he was feeling at her words, unable to admit that she had some valid points.

"You shouldn't have invited her here, Isabel. You need to stay as far away from her as possible," Max answered in agitation.

Her mouth tightened and her eyes rolled at his bullheadedness.

"Oh what, like you did? She told me about your outing yesterday," she fired back.

"That's different. I know how to handle it. It's what I do every day," he snapped.

"Oh really," she grated. "You know what Max? I think you came here to talk to me because you aren't sure either. You are so thickheaded!"

"I came here because I just found out that we could wind up in a lab being poked and prodded. I needed someone to talk to, Michael wasn't around, and you're my sister. I thought you were onboard with this," he grated.

"No Max, you came here because you didn't believe whatever it is you think you just found out about Liz. You wanted someone to talk to that would jump aboard your paranoia train." Isabel studied Max's face for a second before continuing.

"You should know that I'm the last person in our little group that would believe that all humans are evil and should be shut out of our lives."

"Oh, so you trust her?! Why the dreamwalk then?!" Max snapped back.

"Ok fine, I was suspicious. And I checked her out myself. Obviously my opinion means nothing, so you go right ahead and make your plans to destroy Dad by ousting her out of the house. Maybe you can make him as miserable as you made me with Alex. Hopefully, he won't let you get away with it either," she growled.

"I'm going back to my guest. You can show yourself out," she said angrily, whipping the door open and leaving him standing alone in the drawing room.

"Isabel," he called after her in a low voice, but she never turned back to look at him.

********

Max pulled around the half-circle driveway that crested at the front door of the house after driving aimlessly for hours.

He saw the car his father had lent Liz for the day, and sighed.

He slumped back in his seat in weariness. When had he gotten to be such an irascible bastard, or was it that he just never noticed it before?

He knew that Isabel was hurt at his anger over her using her powers.

But this was the second time she'd gone and done something dangerous and impulsive. She and his father both had changed so much, where he had stayed much the same; locked in his shell, hardened by pain. And he'd drawn Michael into it right alongside of him. Michael looked up to him.

Michael had lost the only caregiver he'd ever known to a group of people that made the word human an insult, and Max had felt that more keenly than he would ever admit to his cousin. His father had felt the need to protect all of them after that, and both Max and Michael were willing pupils.

Tell me about you Max. Tell me about what makes you happy...

But now...now his shell was cracking and the wounds beneath felt fresh. The insecurity, the very magnitude of his self-imposed isolation and alien-ness flowed through his heart, making it feel as if he couldn't breathe.

His world, his family had moved on, and he was still stuck in the same prison he'd put himself in all those years ago.

************

After his mother's death when his father suddenly had no interest in the business, Max found it hard to relate to him at all. Whenever he mentioned the company, his father waved it off, dismissing it. That was bad enough, but when Phillip started telling Max that maybe he'd made a mistake with him, Max snapped.

"How can you say that, after what happened to Uncle Edward? Are you going to tell Michael this was all a mistake too? Uncle Ed was like a father to him. What happened to him back then could just as easily happen to us now. What's the matter with you Dad?" he asked irritated, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Max, don't you see? In the process of trying to keep our lives safe, we've lost them. This," Phillip said, sweeping a hand around the office, "is not a life, son."

"It's the only one I've got," Max grated. "The one you encouraged me to live."

"Maybe I was wrong," Phillip said, rubbing his eyes.

"We had no choice. You had no choice," Max said in anger. "We aren't like the rest of these people. You know it, and I know it. You always told me we can't ever turn our backs, and you were right."

"I'm tired of looking over my shoulder," Phillip said. "I'm tired of this building. I'm tired of this prison I locked all of us in."

"This isn't prison," Max said. "It's survival."

"Survival at what cost?" Phillip asked. "I had your mother. What about you?"

"That doesn't even cross my mind," Max said. "I am alive. I have everything I could ever want. Why is this suddenly so awful?" Max asked, repeating his father's gesture with his hand.

Phillip sighed.

"Very well," he said. "You do as you wish, but I can't do this anymore. If this is what makes you happy, then you can have it. I don't want it any more."

Max was stunned into silence.

"This is everything we worked for," Max said. "How can you just let it all go?"

"Because it's not important. The people in my life are what are important. You, Isabel, Michael," Phillip said.

"I know that! Don't you think I know that? Isn't that why you started this whole thing to begin with? To protect us?" Max asked, exasperated.

"My heart was in the right place," Phillip said, distant.

"We know that," Max insisted. "We all know that. Mom knew that."

At the mention of Diane, Phillip stiffened and rose.

"That's where you're wrong," Phillip said. "I made my biggest mistakes with your mother. She told me things before she died. She made me see the truth, and she asked for some promises from me. I intend to keep those promises."

"What promises?" Max asked, confused.

Phillip shook his head. "They were between your mother and I. But those promises start here. I quit, Max."

He got up and left a stunned Max standing open-mouthed in the office.

******

Isabel had done the unthinkable. She had a young man, a boyfriend she had secretly been seeing. Michael had discovered it purely on accident, when he spotted them at a restaurant an hour out of Santa Fe.

He'd called Max, and when he'd heard, he'd been infuriated. For twenty-six years of his life, he'd done nothing but try to protect his family. He couldn't save his mother, and now Isabel openly threw her nose up at him by getting into a relationship with some random guy.

He'd gone to his father, certain that he would get his support, and was shocked when his father told him to let it alone.

"What have you been telling me for most of my life Dad? We can't afford to be attached to anyone. We can't chance having that type of connection with anyone! It would compromise our safety. Isn't that what you told me, or have I gone crazy?" he asked in anger.

"I was wrong Max. We can't be looking over our shoulders twenty-four hours a day. When I think of the time I wasted with your mother..."

"No Dad, you were right. If we don't keep on top of this, they're going to come for us. And this guy...this stranger that Isabel is seeing, how do we know that he isn't part of the unit? Did she even think about that?" he asked, running his hand through his hair as he paced in frustration.

"Max, what have I done to you?" his father asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Max snapped.

"Alex Whitman is not an agent, Max," his father sighed. "He's just a guy that saw something in your sister, and your sister saw something in him."

"We don't know that," Max protested.

"When did you become so cynical?" Phillip asked.

"I'm no more cynical than you were," Max challenged.

His father studied him in silence with a sad look in his eyes.

"I can't remember the last time I saw you happy," Phillip said.

"I don't have time to be happy. I'm too busy trying to make sure we all stay alive, which is what I thought you were doing too," Max answered in accusation.

"Max, living isn't really living if you're only existing. I realized that too late. After your mother passed...I had a lot of time to think, and to realize all of the time I'd wasted, with her, with you, with Isabel. Don't make the same mistakes I did," he said.

But Max couldn't let it go. He fought with Isabel over Alex, telling her that she needed to let him go, and she refused.

Max tried his damndest to find something on Alex, but all he could found was that he really was a lawyer who had passed the bar with flying colors.

Isabel found out that Max had investigated him, and confronted him with it, and they had gotten into a knock down fight about it.

Isabel fled the house in tears, and Max was furious that he had been put into the position of being the bad guy.

But fury turned to worry when Isabel never came home that night, nor the next day.

Michael immediately had started a search on her plates, and Alex's, as well as their credit card activities, and they were traced down to Las Vegas.

Max and Michael flew into Las Vegas and rented a car, driving together in furious silence, knowing what Isabel had done.

They arrived at the Venetian well after midnight. The casinos were jam-packed, but Max knew better than to think that they would be gambling.

They headed straight to their room, knocking on the door.

"Isabel, open the door," he'd said angrily.

"Go away Max," she'd said after a moment of silence.

"Isabel, open the door now," Michael said with quiet force.

A moment later, the door opened and Alex stood facing them in defiance.

"I think Isabel told you to leave," he said.

"I need to speak to my sister," Max seethed.

"And I think you should respect the wishes of my wife," Alex answered angrily.

Feeling the rage fill his body, Max reached out and shoved Alex back into the room, with Michael close behind.

Isabel moved to stand beside Alex, her anger over-riding her fear.

"How could you?" Max asked. "After everything, how could you do this?"

"I told him Max, and he accepts me," she said. "He loves me."

"You what?!" Michael shouted.

Max didn't wait any longer to react as he felt his blood boil. He rushed Alex, pinning him to the wall his hand tight around his throat. Almost instantly, Alex's face grew red, and he gasped struggling for breath.

He felt Isabel's hand clawing at his back.

"Let him go!" she shouted.

"You shouldn't have done this," Max ground out. "You knew what would happen."

Michael pulled Isabel away from Max.

"We love each other Max!" she cried.

"Love? This is your life Isabel! This is no one's fault but your own," Max said, squeezing Alex's throat further.

Alex struggled to form words.

"I ...don't...care what you are," he choked out.

"He doesn't care," Isabel repeated, choking back tears. "Would he have married me if he did?"

"This is my life, Max! You don't own me, and you can't tell me what to do. You can't control what everyone does! I love Alex, and if you dare do anything to hurt him, I swear you'll never see me again," she said.

Max held his hand tight for another moment and then dropped it from Alex's neck, Alex sliding down the wall to the floor, choking.

Isabel rushed to his side, running her fingers over his cheeks.

"You son of a bitch," she whispered, turning to Max.

"What did you expect Isabel? A welcome wagon?" Max asked. "Doesn't everything Mom and Dad sacrificed mean anything to you?"

"Don't even try to pull that on me," she said, her voice trembling.

"You chose this life for yourself. No one made you do it. Dad doesn't even want you to do this anymore. Don't you see it? We're safe. We have been for a long time. It's time you started to live," she said.

Max shook his head.

"We're never safe," he said. "Ever."

tbc...

Yep, I know that Max has been kind of a jerk-off, but he was motivated by fear. Keep that in mind when we get toward the end of this story.

Thanks as always for the feedback!

Part 15

As the memory faded Max felt uncharacteristic tears springing to his eyes and swiped them away angrily.

What was he supposed to do? Just forget about protecting his family? Not to care what happened to them? After everything they'd been through?

His father was right. Alex had been the exception, and had been nothing but loyal, and he liked him. But Alex had no secrets in his past. Liz Delatorre had too many secrets. Secrets that were dangerous.

He took a deep breath and pulled himself together. He climbed out of the car and walked up to the imposing house. He felt physically and emotionally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to go to his room and avoid his father, and his father's future wife.

Michael would call tonight, and what he found might make things clearer, but for now, he wanted nothing more than to drown any thoughts of the investigation out for the night.

As he walked in the door, he quickly realized he'd have no such reprieve.

"Max," his father called as he climbed the first step on the stairway.

He paused wearily, and backtracked looking toward the living room where his father stood.

"I missed you around the office today. Is everything all right?" Phillip inquired, and Max nodded.

"I had a meeting with Carol Davidson on the Emmy deal," he said.

Phillip nodded.

"Why don't you come in and sit with Liz and I for a few minutes?" he asked.

"Dad, I'm really kind of tired," Max answered in a low voice.

"Please, I'd like to tell you something," his father said, his gaze leaving no room for argument.

Max nodded and walked toward the living room.

*****

Phillip watched his son walk into the room with concern.

He looked haggard. His skin was the color of ash, replacing his normally warm skin tone. His eyes were red-rimmed and looked haunted.

Liz glanced at Phillip with a look of concern and imperceptibly shook her head in a negative gesture.

For a moment, he hesitated in making the announcement he'd been planning on all day. But things were moving now, and time was of the essence.

He thought back to the earlier conversation he'd had with Liz.

She came in looking visibly upset and slumped in the chair, and he knew that her visit with her mother had been draining.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

She nodded, looking down at her hands.

"I'm sorry Liz. I knew that this was going to be hard for you, but it will get better, you know that," he said, trying to comfort her.

"I know. It's just so...hard seeing her in that place," she said.

"How was she?" he asked.

"She wasn't having a good day," Liz answered in a dull tone.

He wasn't sure whether to push, so he just left it alone.

She glanced up at Phillip.

"Max followed me," she said in a monotone voice.

He nodded.

"I thought he would," he said.

"Everything went like clockwork," she said as she nodded.

"Good," he said, conversationally.

"Phillip, I hate this," she said in hushed voice.

"I really hate this," She repeated as she clenched her fists in her lap.

"I know," he said, moving to take her hand.

"It's going to work out, and it will be over soon. Michael has gone out to California, and he'll come back with the information we planted for him. Max will have to confront us on it after that. He won't be able to keep quiet for much longer. We're feeding him everything he's looking for, and he's eating it up. Once he confronts me with it and I'm righteously indignant about it, he'll be satisfied. Trust me. He'll get over what he thinks is your "devious plan" and your reasons for doing it, if he's satisfied that it's the truth. And when I can "forgive" you for it, I don't think he's going to have much of a choice but to accept it," he said.

But if my plans go as I think they will, we won't even have to worry about that, he thought to himself.

I'm going to tell him tonight," he said.

"Oh Phillip, I don't think that's such a good idea," she said in protest. "It's too much all at once."

"We don't have the luxury of letting this go on too long," Phillip reminded her.

She nodded in mute agreement.

"The sooner we get this settled, the sooner he stops looking for the truth, and the safer you'll be," he said.

"I know," she said, resigned.

She hadn't needed to say that she hated the situation. Phillip could see it in her eyes. She didn't want to deceive Max any longer. He didn't either, really. But if his son weren't so thickheaded, he wouldn't have to.

It was neither here nor there.

"Are you all right Max?" Liz asked in quiet concern touching her expressive chocolate eyes.

Max's head snapped up and his eyes met hers. In that split second, Phillip saw that vulnerable little boy he used to know, before it was quickly replaced with a carefully crafted expression of indifference.

Phillip suppressed a knowing smile. He just may be able to kill two birds with one stone.

"Yes, I'm fine," he answered. "Why would you ask?"

"I don't know, you just look like you aren't well," she responded, her brow furrowing.

"I'm perfectly fine," he answered, turning to his father.

Phillip watched the short exchange between the two with interest but still started when Max turned towards him.

"Dad, what is it you wanted to tell me? I have a headache and I'd really like to go upstairs," he said, loosening his tie.

Liz gave Phillip a pleading look to hold off, but he ignored it.

"Liz and I are planning to be married in three weeks time," he said.

Max's eyes widened slightly and his jaw tightened.

"Congratulations," he said in a tight voice, without looking at either of them.

"Thank you son," Phillip said, putting his hand in his pocket and around his cell phone. He concentrated on the phone as he spoke.

"I was hoping you'd take it well. I..." he interrupted himself as his energy made his cell phone ring.

"Excuse me," he said, and picked up the phone, greeting dead air.

He feigned listening to an imaginary conversation for a moment.

"You'll have to excuse me, I have to take this call," he said, stepping out of the room.

Now everything would be set in motion.

*****

An uncomfortable silence had settled in the room, and Liz felt it pressing against her, tangible and oppressive.

Max sat with a downward gaze, his face unreadable.

She took a moment to admire the man that sat across the room from her.

Clad in an impeccably tailored suit, he was any warm-blooded female's dream. His hair fell in careless perfection across his forehead, almost beckoning idle hands to brush it away. She could easily see how a girl might get lost in his honey-tinged gaze, if he'd only let her.

Yet she could see that he was visibly strained, despite his best attempt to feign indifference. Could his visit to the prison have upset him that much? Or was it something more than that?

"I visited with Isabel today," she said in a tentative voice.

"So I heard," he answered in a controlled voice, without looking up.

"She's...she's actually an amazing woman," she said, brushing her hair back behind her ear, and he looked up, and for a crazy moment, she thought his eyes seemed to be able to look into her heart, and they knew she was hiding.

She swallowed.

"I shouldn't have been surprised though," she answered. "I know she and I didn't get off on the best foot, just like you and I didn't, but she was wonderful to me today."

He was quiet for a moment, and then started to speak.

"Liz, I need to ask you something," he began, and she heard the vulnerability that lay in his quiet voice.

She immediately tensed. Was this it? Would he confront her with what he knew? She'd foolishly counted on Phillip being there when it happened. What was she supposed to say? Her breath seized in a moment of panic.

Phillip walked back into the room, interrupting him.

She looked at Phillip with a touch of panic.

"Well, I'm sorry to have to do this, but I have to leave for New York tonight. Apparently the Governor heard I am back in the country and wants to pick my brain," he said, in a regretful voice, and Liz begged him with her eyes to take him with her. He couldn't leave her here alone, not now.

"I had Charlotte make us a celebration dinner, and now I won't even be able to attend it," he said with a sigh.

"It's probably just as well, as I haven't told Isabel the good news yet. She and Alex weren't able to make it tonight. She said they had some fund-raising dinner to go to. We'll just have to do it when I get back," he said.

Max's face slipped into an inscrutable mask, and he stood to leave the room, and Phillip stopped him.

"You and Liz should have dinner here anyway," he said to Max, and Liz closed her eyes in dismay. At that moment, she wanted to kill Phillip.

"Dad, I told you, I'm really not feeling well," Max said in a pointed voice.

"Nonsense," Phillip answered. "You still have to eat and Charlotte went to a lot of trouble. Make it an early night, but there's no need for Liz to eat alone."

Liz glanced at Max, and he turned his eyes away from her.

"Right," Phillip said, taking Max's silence for acquiescence. "I need to go pack."

He left the two standing uncomfortably in the room.

Liz decided that if he were going to confront her, it would be better to do this while Phillip was still in the house.

"Max," she said in a soft voice. "You were going to ask me something..."

He shook his head.

"No, it was nothing important," he said, dismissing it, but she saw the truth in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You don't have to eat dinner with me, you know. I won't say anything to Phillip. You don't look well," she said, concerned at his drawn appearance.

"No, he's right. I have to eat, so why should either of us eat alone?" he asked in a flat voice, without meeting her eyes.

"Dinner is usually at seven. I'll see you then," he said, leaving the room.

Liz waited a moment and then started up the stairs. She couldn't fathom what Phillip was thinking, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension over the impending dinner.

*****

Max cursed himself for the blunder he'd almost made.

What was he thinking a moment ago?

But he knew. He's seen that flash of vulnerability in her eyes when she'd spoken of Isabel, and his heart had recognized something in her that he hadn't dared to crave himself. When he was a boy, he'd craved the very same thing from the human people that surrounded him. The bittersweet pain of that loss of innocence and the realization that he would always be different from others and he would forever have to hide it, had broken his young heart and made it cynical.

But when he looked at Liz, he realized that she wanted their acceptance more than anyone could have guessed, and it poignantly reminded him of his own painful realizations.

But why did she need their acceptance, or want it? If this was some con she was running why should she care if she was accepted or not?

He felt an affinity with her that he'd never felt with another human being, and it scared him. When he was around her, she made his heart question everything he'd built to protect himself.

When she turned her wise eyes on him, he felt as if she could see who he really was, and that he didn't dwell on it, because if he did, he'd realize that he really didn't like the person he'd become.

He'd only known her all of two days, and she'd managed with barely a few sentences to turn his carefully ordered world upside down.

When he looked at her, he lost sight of his whole purpose. Her soft lips spoke in her bewitching tone, awakening his mind and heart with words that spoke of wisdom beyond her years.

His emotions were in disarray and he had been so close to making an error that could have cost him everything.

Yet, he'd thought about it, about confronting her with what he already knew.

Isabel's words had stuck in his mind and heart, and for the first time, he wondered if she was right.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn't know how to handle things.

Could he have the courage to trust his instinct about her when everything he knew pointed to the fact that she was trouble?

And if he did ask her, could he trust that she would be honest with him?

He truly didn't know.

It was best he waited until Michael returned from California before he made a decision to do anything.

Michael had warned him earlier that he had to get a handle on what was going on inside of him, and he was right. He couldn't afford to be wrong.

******

At 6:50 p.m., after several unsuccessful attempts to dive into a forgetful blanket of sleep, Max was wandering around the entertainment room in unconscious agitation.

He'd thought about the whole situation more than he cared to, and had come up with no easy answers.

If he could just get rid of all of the uncertainty, pain and confusion in his head for just a little while, then maybe he could look at it with objective eyes.

Isabel's words swam in his ears as if she were repeating them over and over.

You're hiding from life. I don't know what it is you're afraid of, but if you keep this up, you're going to look back one day and will be sorry...

He pressed his hand to his forehead in frustration, feeling as if all of these newly-surfaced emotions were going to eat him alive.

"I can't do this," he muttered to himself. "Get it together, Maxwell."

He needed something to get through this dinner, to help him push it all aside for awhile. He'd never had a problem doing it before, but tonight he knew that things were different. He was different. Liz was different.

The decanter of scotch on the bar caught his eye, there merely for show except when his father's business acquaintances came to the house.

He walked toward the bar slowly.

His father had told him of his one experience with alcohol. He said it made him forget who he was for awhile, but that it wasn't necessarily a good thing.

But his father had had a half a glass of scotch.

If he only had a little, maybe it would make all of this disappear for one night. Though he acted like any other person, he felt it was just that, an act. He never really felt human, where Isabel barely thought of herself as anything but, most of the time. She was involved with the human world, and made polite friends and went to Alex's associates' parties. She had an in with Alex, and for the first time in his life, as scared as he was at what might be coming their way with Liz's arrival, he envied Isabel.

Maybe he could forget what he was and allow himself to be a human being for one evening, with inconsequential conversation and no alien worries.

Maybe just for a little while, he could look at Liz as person, and not as an enemy, just to know what it was like.

He stared at the decanter and poured a very small amount into a glass. His father had warned him of the effects, but most of those were purely human. It seemed that their alien constitution couldn't stand much of it, though they never tested it any further than his father's half-filled glass.

He picked the glass up and looked at the beige colored liquid.

Maybe he'd take just a sip. Surely that couldn't do too much damage, and it certainly couldn't do any more damage than the tormented thoughts locked in his head wreaking havoc on his emotions.

He swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. It looked innocent enough. Maybe one small swallow would take the edge off of his worries. Taking a deep breath, he took a small swallow.

The liquor burned his throat and stung his eyes, and he suppressed an involuntary cough and put the glass down. God, it tasted like medicine. How could people actually like to drink this stuff?

Almost immediately he felt warmth spread through his body, and his vision grew a slight bit fuzzy. He squinted and shook his head a bit, trying to clear his head.

But he had to admit the sensation was very... pleasant. He raised his hand in front of his face and watched it dance and split before his eyes.

A smile appeared on his face as his eyes tried to follow his fingers.

"Max?" a soft voice said behind him, and he turned quickly and froze.

Nothing could have prepared him for the beauty of the woman standing before him. Inebriated or not, he couldn't deny that he felt his heart quicken and his pulse race just looking at her.

She stood in the doorway of the room, arms crossed over each other in a sure sign of vulnerability. She was breathtaking, and he couldn't stop staring at her.

So much for wanting to be human, he thought.

Her hair hung like a mink cascade down her back, shining under the track lighting that hung over the door, reminding him of brown satin. Her dress was made of some type of black material that clung to her in all the right places. It criss-crossed her neck, exposing creamy shoulders to anyone who cared to look at them, her upper arms were covered in the fitted black material that ended right above her elbows.

The dress on anyone else might have seemed plain, for it was nothing exceptional compared to the dresses many of the women he'd escorted to business functions wore. But on her it was a masterpiece.

Immediately, he was horrified, and mentally chided himself. This was his father's bride to be, and might just be the person who could get them all killed. But right now, that seemed the furthest thing from the truth.

Now, his eyes noted her face. She wore the barest of makeup, a touch of eyeliner, a dusting of shadow that only made her expressive eyes stand out further, and a touch of gloss that drew his eyes to her soft lips.

Right now, as she stood, enduring his unwavering scrutiny with only the slightest of fidgeting betraying her discomfort, she seemed no more and no less than perfection under his very roof, and he fully understood his father's infatuation.

He swallowed hard, not able to take his eyes off of her.

"You look..." he broke off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

She blushed, her arms crossing further across her waist.

"Charlotte left it out for me, and I didn't want to insult her," she said sheepishly.

"It suits you," Max answered in a slightly slurred husky voice, wondering if the sudden heat that seemed to infuse his body was really a product of the scotch, and not something else altogether.

"Thank you," she said, ducking her head.

"Senor Evans," Charlotte called from the hall, and Max tore his eyes away from Liz to see Charlotte standing behind her.

"Dinner will be on the terrace tonight. The Senor ask me to measure for new draperies in there, and I run behind," she said in a woeful accented voice.

Max nodded.

"That will be fine Charlotte," he said softly, and she looked at him strangely.

"You feeling ok, Senor?" she asked.

"I'm perfectly well, thank you," Max said, as he swayed a bit.

"Ok..." Charlotte said, not quite certain she believed him.

"Whenever you are ready then," she said, backing away.

"Now is perfect," he answered, looking at Liz, who had just noticed the glass on the bar.

"I thought you said you didn't drink?" she asked, with a slight frown.

"I don't normally. I took a bit for my headache," he answered, feeling the further effects of the alcohol taking a hold of his system as he said it.

He walked toward her, locking his gaze on her eyes, seeing hers darken imperceptibly under his scrutiny.

He was close now. Almost close enough to touch her if he wanted to.

But did he?

He could smell her soft perfume, that mixed with her body's chemistry to make her own unique scent, and one that seemed to beckon him.

His eyes left hers to follow the graceful line of her neck to her shoulder, before sweeping up across her chest, returning to their origin.

Was he mistaken, or did he see the desire in her eyes what he was feeling in his own heart?

In an instant, it was gone as she lowered her gaze.

"After you," he said, motioning toward the door, and with a cautious look up at him, she walked out into the hall.

He admired her tiny waist and the gentle swell of her hips as she walked toward the kitchen in heel-clad feet.

Had his father known what it was like to touch that skin now covered by fabric? Did she kiss him with the abandon he could sense lay curled under her tightly controlled façade?

Max found himself strangely jealous, and shook it off. She was his father's.

Outside on the terrace, candles lit the area, and an outdoor fireplace kept the evening chill from the area.

Many times over the years his family had eaten out here this very same way, on special occasions. Yet never had it seemed as suggestive as it did that night.

He pulled her chair out for her, allowing her to sit, before moving around the table to take his own.

Charlotte wheeled a cart out to the table with covered dishes and announced she would be gone for the evening, asking them to leave the cart in the kitchen where she could take care of the mess in the morning.

The pleasant heat of the scotch had now started a burn in his body.

Reaching for his collar, he paused as he grabbed his tie.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked, before pulling on it.

"No, go ahead," Liz said quietly, watching him intently as he yanked on the tie, loosening it, leaving it hanging around his neck. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt, feeling as if it were strangling him suddenly.

"You don't look well Max," she said, and he stilled as she stood from her chair, her eyes locked on his, moving to his side of the table.

She stood before him, and he looked up at her feeling as if the world was swaying around him.

Her delicate fingers reached out to him, and he sighed involuntarily as her cool hand rested on his heated skin, moving from his forehead to his cheek.

"You're warm," she said. "It feels like you have a fever."

"I'll be fine," he said, reluctantly pulling her hand from his cheek. This was no good. It was one thing to want to be normal, and quite another to look at her the way he was. She was his father's future wife.

He definitely shouldn't have taken that sip of scotch.

She hesitated and returned to her seat. Her gesture had been purely out of concern, and his rebuff had made her clearly uncomfortable.

She made herself busy uncovering the dinner, carefully avoiding his eyes.

His body swayed a bit in the chair, and he blinked rapidly trying to get his bearings.

She took his plate and filled with the wonderful smelling Mexican cuisine that Charlotte was famous for, and set it down in front of him, doing the same for herself before covering everything again.

He turned his attention to the hot sauce Charlotte had left on the table, shaking it generously over his food.

Liz took a bite of her own and waved her hand in front of her mouth, reaching for her glass of water.

"Spicy?" he asked, with a raised brow, and she shook her head after setting her glass down.

"No, hot," she answered.

Their conversation faltered from there, and they ate in silence, something he was now certain would become a habit.

But what could he say to her? I know that you're somehow involved in scamming my family, and possibly involved with the Special Unit, but made me look at myself in a way that I haven't in a really long time?

No, it was crazy. This whole situation was crazy. The best thing he could do would be to get her out of here quick as possible, before the wedding.

A fine sheen of sweat broke on his brow, and he wiped at it with his napkin, his appetite gone.

He glanced up and found her watching him.

"What is it, Max?" she in a faltering whisper.

"What do you mean?" he asked, carefully avoiding her eyes.

He heard her let out a small sigh, and his heart quickened as he wondered if he could elicit a sigh like that from her with his lips.

He was furious at himself for these weak thoughts.

"Something is eating at you. I can see it in your eyes," she continued.

"I know it's probably hard for you to believe, but I'm good at reading people. It's something I learned while I was growing up. It's a survival skill really," she said.

"I have no problem believing that," he said, a hardened edge sharpening his voice, and he out of the corner of her eye he saw her visibly cringe.

"I can tell that whatever it is, its more than just a headache. I see it in your eyes. And maybe it isn't my place, because I don't know you at all," she said.

"No...you don't," he grated, interrupting her, hating his body for feeling a pull toward her.

"I know it has something to do with your father, and I know you don't trust me, but Max, I would never hurt anyone in your family," she said, tears filling her eyes, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. "You have to believe me."

"Please," he said, his voice cracking, "can we not talk about this?"

His thoughts were so muddied and one set of feelings bled into another until all he could see was her sitting before him, with tears in her eyes.

"I'm not really in a good place right now. Can we call a truce, just for tonight?" he said wearily.

"I'm sorry, I just...I hate seeing what my presence here is doing to you and your father," she said. "I don't want to make this worse. I...I just thought things would be different. I just wished that maybe you would, you know...see that the last thing I want to do is cause any trouble in anyone's family."

"Then why are you doing it?" he asked, the words flying from his mouth before he had the chance to stop them.

A flash of pain settled in her eyes and she looked down at her hands.

"I don't have much of anything, Max," she said. "I don't have a mother that can love me, not like I love her. I know she did once, but now, I don't have anyone I could consider family..." she trailed off.

"I've seen a lot of horrible things, and as sad as this sounds, this place and your father bring me peace. Your father makes me feel safe, and I haven't felt safe in a long time," she whispered.

Max stood and walked to her, knowing that every step he made toward her was wrong. He stopped and crouched next to her, at eye-level with her anguished eyes.

His inhibitions were non-existent in that moment.

"Why Liz? Why do you need to feel safe? What are you afraid of?" he asked fiercely.

She drew a hitching breath and turned her head away.

"Tell me," he said, leaning closer to her, his face within inches of hers. He could see the agitated rise and fall of her chest as she tried to keep her emotions below the surface.

"I...I can't do this now Max," she answered in a shaky voice.

"Can't do what, Liz? Tell the truth?" he asked angrily, and he could feel her tremble under the intensity of his gaze.

He felt out of control, unable to stop himself from and saying whatever came to his mind first without reservation.

She stifled a sob and got up from her chair.

"Wait!" he said, rising to stand, and the ferocity of his voice froze her in her tracks.

His frustration was making his breathing erratic and his chest rose and fell in rapid movement.

He took a step toward her and she turned her head slightly behind her, toward him, her hair partially obscuring her profile.

As he drew closer he saw her shoulders stiffen, but she didn't move nor did she turn around. And he saw that she was frightened and any anger he'd felt faded in a matter of seconds.

"What is it you can't do? Tell me what you're hiding Liz," he whispered.

If she would only tell him the truth, then he could deal with it, and get his life back on track.

"I'm not hiding anything," she said, in a trembling voice.

She was scared, and that told him that someone was making her that way. If she told him the truth, he could help, and with his inhibitions unchecked he admitted that he wanted to.

"Liz, I need to know...." he said, taking her wrist.

She wrenched it from him and whipped around to face him.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted in a panicked voice. "Don't you ever touch me! You need to know things?!? Everyone needs to know something! God dammit I told him I wasn't ready for this!" she said her hands raised at the side of her head in a defensive gesture, as she backed toward the closed French doors.

Confused at her reaction, he moved forward.

"Liz, I don't know what you're talking about. You told who you weren't ready? For what?" he asked.

Without thinking, he reached for her hand to calm her.

She pulled her hand away and hit the door with her back, startling herself, cowering against the door. Tears now streamed down her face, her hair sticking in their tracks.

"Liz," he said in a calming voice, his hand frozen where she'd pulled hers away.

"I can't...I can't," she whispered.

"Ok. It's going to be ok," he said in a soothing voice. "We don't have to talk about it. All right?"

For a moment it seemed as if she didn't hear him. He heard her stifled gasps of breath and felt even lower than he had after his confrontation with Isabel earlier.

He couldn't think clearly, his thoughts muddied, acting on pure emotion instead of logic. In one moment, he'd gone from being furious to feeling like the lowest piece of scum on the earth.

"All right?" he said again, awkwardly reaching out his hand to brush the hair away from her face, revealing a tearstained cheek and tormented eyes.

His fingers brushed against the velvet-soft skin of her cheek and lingered there as he searched her eyes for the truth she wouldn't reveal.

He was in unknown territory. Never had he touched a woman that he had felt anything but a polite interest in. This was something altogether new, and the tightness in his chest increased as her eyes begged him to let her be. He swayed a bit and recovered his balance.

He had an overpowering desire to comfort her, for reasons he couldn't explain and wouldn't analyze. His fingers slid across her skin under her hair to cup her cheek tenderly.

"It's ok," he whispered, and realized that for the moment it was. For the moment, the only person that existed was this beautiful human woman standing before him.

The night around them was silent, all sounds drowned out, his attention completely focused on the sound of her breath. His eyes moved lower to her wet, flushed cheeks, and still lower to the ripeness of her lips.

She didn't say a word, a mix of anguish and longing reflected in the dark pools of her eyes, and he moved still closer, so close that their bodies were barely a centimeter apart, and yet she remained still.

Her hair felt like spun silk wrapped around his fingers, like nothing he'd ever felt before, or would ever feel again. His eyes moved over her face, not saying a word, not daring to break the moment.

His heart was a hurricane of mixed emotions, amplified by the day's conflicting events. But most powerful was the magnetic pull he was feeling toward Liz.

Three days ago he'd hated her on sight. He didn't know if it was his inebriation or something he'd unconsciously pushed into a far corner of his mind, but by the flickering light of the candles scattered around the terrace, she was breathtaking. In her eyes he saw the loneliness that was a companion to his own. The hidden pain of whatever was in her past and whoever had hurt her was disarmingly familiar, a mirror to his own, and beckoned to him as no one ever had.

Her lips parted and that was his undoing. He moved still closer, closing that minute distance between them and paused.

He looked to her eyes for assent, and blocked every last doubt out of his mind and reason for stopping before he did something he would regret, and for the first time in his life, lived in the moment.

He lowered his lips ever closer to hers. Her gaze was a contradiction, willing him to leave her be, and begging him to take his tentative gesture further.

His eyes fell closed as her lips touched his for the first time, impossibly soft and tantalizing in their pliancy. They tasted so sweet, brushing up against his own. Her heart thundered against his chest as his hand slid behind her back, pulling her even closer.

The sweet scent of her hair assaulted his senses, and he swayed yet again, overcome by her very essence surrounding him.

Perfect. She was perfection in imperfection.

Her lips responded to his kiss, slowly at first, and then a little more insistent. He captured her upper lip between his and a tiny moan caught in her throat. He felt the burn of desire begin to smolder in the pit of his stomach at the one little sound.

He broke the kiss, breathing raggedly, running his lips lightly across her cheek, feeling her shiver as his warm breath flitted across her cheek. He brushed her neck with a feather-light sweep of his nose across the vulnerable skin, trying to calm his racing heart. Never, ever had he experienced a reaction to anyone like this before.

He stepped forward as her back hit the door once again, and caressed her neck with his lips, eliciting a near silent gasp from her throat.

It was that which caused his restraint to snap as his hand moved to her neck, cradling it as he ravished her throat with hot kisses.

His hands dropped to her wrists, and his hands slid up the silky skin of her arms, his fingers slipping beneath the material covering her upper arms.

"Max," she gasped, and his fingers ran over a puckered line on her skin.

The images and sounds assaulted his senses instantly, terrible in their intensity.

Heavy panicked breathing seemed to be coming from inside his head, but he was inside hers, and the breathing was her own.

Quick glances to the left and to the right. Trees everywhere. Something heavy was on her back.

Her panic was tangible, and a riot of gunfire erupted around her. She was lost, disoriented.

Shouts rang out from the trees and she ran. She ran with no seeming pattern or destination.

"'Lizabeta!" a frightened female voice cried, but she couldn't answer.

Another round of gunshots spattered through the trees, the high-pitched whine of bullets hitting wood and ricocheting made her cringe.

A scream of terror exploded from the woods to her right, but she did not stop.

A quick prayer rang through her head as she tried to find cover.

A popping sound, too close, a spray of blood that spattered her arm and then excruciating pain in her arm. She grabbed it without breaking her stride, gritting her teeth against the pain.

She stopped for an instant and then turned left, diving into the dense underbrush.

The pain was almost blinding, but she dared not cry out. She dared not breathe.

Stillness and silence for long minutes, and then footsteps.

"Find the bitch. I'll make it worth it to the man who does. And I want her alive."

Terror froze her limbs as she felt the man's presence close. Too close.

A long pause, and then the steps moved further away.

Everything went dark for awhile.

It was night. They were gone.

She moved out of the brush cautiously.

Listening for long moments, her arm throbbing. She cradled it carefully.

Gathering courage as she started to walk.

"Lucinda," she whispered.

She walked for what seemed like forever, and then she froze as she spotted a large shape lit by moonlight before her.

For a moment she was numb, and then she moved toward it.

She whispered the name again, dropping to her knees at the prone figure's back.

She was afraid. Afraid to turn the woman over to see the awful truth, but she had to.

She knew this woman.

She reached a hand out, and pulled the body toward her, and eyes grew blurry with tears.

Max was filled with horror as he looked upon what she saw.

A woman. A woman with a large sling attached at the neck. A small hole pierced the sling, where blood was coagulating. Eyes staring unseeing at the unforgiving night sky.

"Lucinda," she whispered, and he felt her dread as her eyes lit upon the sling.

She pushed the cloth away, revealing a tiny, unnaturally pale face.

Dead. Both dead.

He felt the despair fill her very soul, released in a silent howl that the night sky would never hear.

**********

He stumbled away from her, any trace of the effects of the alcohol vanished, the horror so real, a technicolor nightmare seared into his brain.

Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Max, we can't, we...oh God this was a mistake," she said.

Mistake. She didn't know what he'd seen.

He felt as if he couldn't breathe, and turned away, trying to get a grip on what he'd just experienced through her eyes.

"Liz..." he said, in a strangled voice, turning back to her.

She was gone.

TBC...

Thanks to all of those who have come out of lurking to say that they like this story.


Part 16

Liz locked the bedroom door behind her and tried to fight the tears that threatened to spill from them. For the first time since she’d agreed to put herself in Phillip’s care, she fought the instinct to grab her things and run.

She tried to calm her panicked breathing, feeling as if her world were coming down on her.

Everything seemed to be one big mire she couldn’t pull herself out of.

Damn Phillip for leaving her here to deal with this alone! How could he?

******

”You can’t just leave me here with Max!” she’d said, as he calmly packed his bag.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he said in a soothing voice.

“No it damned well won’t!” Liz said.

“You just pushed him about as far as you can push him by telling him that we’re going to be married, and now you’re going to leave?” she asked.

“Liz, you’re acting as if he’s going to murder you while I’m gone,” Phillip said mildly. “He’ll do no such thing, unless of course you push him to that point, in which case I recommend that you temper your retorts.”

“Why are you leaving?” she asked, a tinge of panic inflecting her tone.

“I told the truth. I’m requested in New York, and if I want to keep my contacts, I have to go. I’ll be back in a week, and in the meantime, you can tell Isabel the good news,” he said.

“ME? You want me to tell her,” she half-laughed. “Oh no, no way.”

“Why not? You said she was warmer to you today,” Phillip said.

“Exactly, so why should I push my luck? Why should I want to be the one to tell her I’m going to be her step-mother much sooner than she thought?” Liz asked, sitting heavily on the bed.

“Liz, I will tell you this. Isabel will not have a problem with us marrying as long as she feels she can trust you,” he said.

Liz shook her head.

“You’re really going to leave me here alone for a week, aren’t you?” she asked, in a defeated voice. She let her head drop into her hands, her hair cascading around her face hiding it from Phillip.

He shook his head in understanding. He was leaving her to confront Max by herself but he had business that couldn’t wait. He knew that Liz would be able to handle Max even if she didn’t think so herself. He walked over to her and lifted her chin with his fingers and smiled at her.

“You my dear, will be fine. Everything is in motion. All you need to do is to sit back and play nice with Max. When Michael gets back, his information will keep him busy,” he said, dropping his hand and picking up a dress shirt.

“Phillip, he was going to ask me something downstairs when you interrupted,” she half-whispered fearfully. “I think he was going to confront me with what he knew.”

“And if he does, you know what to say,” Phillip answered, throwing the shirt into the suitcase.

“I don’t know if I can do this. I thought I could, but now I’m not so sure that I wasn't just fooling myself,” she said.

“You can and you will, because you have to. Everything depends on this. Your life depends on it, as well as your mother’s,” he reminded her gently. “If this doesn’t go right, and Carlo gets wind of you here, we’re all in a heap of trouble.”

Liz nodded mutely, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

“Look at me Liz,” he said in a soothing voice, and she raised her head to meet his eyes.

“I know you can do this. I believe in you,” he said.

“I wish I had the same faith in myself that you seem to have,” she said in a frightened voice.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he chided. “After everything you’ve been through, I’m amazed that you have the courage to get up in the morning. But you do, and you have no idea how much I admire that.”

He closed his suitcase and leaned over to peck her cheek.

“In a few weeks this will all be over, and you won’t have to worry about any of it. Just hang in there. I’ll call you when I get to New York,” he said.

“Charlotte laid out a dress for you,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

She nodded without looking at him.

*****

How could she have let things get so out of hand?

Checking his temperature had been the first mistake. It was an innocent enough intention, but the moment she’d touched his skin, she’d felt an electricity shoot through her veins she’d never experienced before. She’d never had time to develop an attraction to anyone. It was always fight or flight for her, and she made no emotional attachments with anyone, ever. So why now? Why, when it was so important that she not complicate things?

She knew that Phillip had some tie to David. She just didn’t know what it was, and he refused to tell her. He’d only told her right from the start that Max could never find out that had any ties to him.

And a monster David was. Even Carlo, who was one of the cruelest people she’d ever encountered, was afraid of him, and rightly so. The one time she’d been in David’s presence was the most frightening experience she’d ever had, and she never wanted to be in that situation again.

It wasn’t that he was just cruel, because Carlo was cruel too. But as vicious as Carlo could be, she knew he felt something for at least his family. He’d mourned the death of his brother Frank when Liz had killed him.

She hadn’t meant to, and it was something that would haunt her for the rest of her days. But he would have killed her if she hadn’t done it first.

But David cared for no one. The utter lack of any emotion in his eyes scared her. He lived without compassion, without any regrets or any compunction for maiming or killing. It was how he’d gotten to where he was today, and why she had to be so careful not to mess this whole thing up.

If David found out where she was, not only would he kill her, but anyone around her. It was one of the reasons she wanted to refuse Phillip’s help. But he’d insisted that he could protect her and explained the business he was in, and she took a leap of faith. Neither one of them had counted on this current complication.

And it was a complication.

She couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for Max. She’d told Phillip right from the beginning that if this didn’t work, that he had to promise her he’d let her leave, and he’d agreed.

She should have known she was in trouble the moment she’d arrived, when she’d first laid eyes on Max.

When she risen to check his forehead, it had started out as an innocent gesture, but the moment her fingers touched his skin, her heart quickened and the very softness of it seemed to ignite something in her body.

Tonight, she’d done the unthinkable, but the way he looked, so perfectly handsome, his eyes haunted by something he would not talk about, made her weak.

She’d only amplified things when she asked him what was bothering him. She told herself that it was an innocent question, that she was only trying to convince Max that she meant his family no harm, but the truth was, she needed him to know it. She couldn’t understand why, but for some reason she needed Max to trust her.

When he’d grabbed her wrist, she’d panicked. All the thoughts of what had been inflicted on her in the past, and the pressure of maintaining this sham that she had created built to the boiling point, and she’d almost made a fatal error in saying too much.

The next thing she was aware of was standing with her back against the glass, and Max only inches from her.

His comforting whispers that it was going to be ok, made her actually believe it for an instant. Everything else was drowned out in the wake of the awkward brush of his fingers against her skin, and the caramel-tinged eyes that seemed to devour her with a mix of compassion and desire. She had thought she was imagining what she’d seen in his eyes in the entertainment room when he turned toward her, but there had been no mistaking it in that moment.

His hands on her skin were so warm, making her blood race. She knew it was a mistake, but she could no more resist him than she could quit breathing.

The moment his lips touched hers, she was lost. She had never felt anything this powerful before, and the feel of his hard body pressed up against hers made her knees weak. Tender lips ravished hers, and it was the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt. She didn’t want it to stop.

But when he broke away and rained hot kisses on her neck, “wonderful” turned to need. She needed him to be closer.

Her body was starting a slow burn, and he was the cause of it. The slow slide of his hand up her arm was maddening and before she realized what he was doing, his hand was under the material, brushing the scar.

That broke the spell bringing back memories of why she couldn’t get close to anyone.

If he hadn’t pulled away from her, she would have pushed him away.

She didn’t think; she just fled.

Was he playing with her? What kind of crazy situation was she living in? She didn’t know what to think anymore. But it felt so real...

Once again, she cursed Phillip for leaving her here alone.

What had he been thinking? Of course he couldn’t have known what was smoldering between them...

She froze.

Or did he?

Charlotte laid out a dress for you.

Now she saw it all. She’d been so caught up in her own emotions she’d never even seen it coming.

It all added up, the arranged outing to Old Mesilla and the dinner, his amusement at their arguments. The fact that he hadn’t told Isabel about their impending marriage. It all made sense now, and she was furious.

How could he? Was this whole offer all a plan to marry his son off?

Why would he have to? The man was irascible but beautiful, surely someone could have melted his heart. Why would Phillip choose her of all people?

God, how could she have been so stupid?

“Liz...”

Her head snapped to the door that adjoined her room to Phillip's.

Not now. Please not now.

“Liz, please. Open up,” he said.

“Go away, Max,” she said, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

“We can’t act like this didn’t happen,” he said from the other side of the door.

She moved to her window.

“Yes, we can,” she answered, stifling a sob. “It was a mistake.”

She heard the stealthy click from Phillip’s side of the door, and she whirled to face him, as he walked toward her without pause.

“I locked that door!” she said in accusation.

“I know how to work around that,” he said, dismissing it.

“Get out!” she said viciously, turning away and swiping at the tears.

He grabbed her arm and pulled pulled her around until she was facing him.

“You and I have been fighting this thing for two days. Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong,” he said.

She felt her breath freeze in her throat. Out of all the things she thought he’d say to her, that wasn’t it.

“Max, I’m marrying your father. What just happened between us was a mistake,” she said, willing her voice to remain even.

“I know it was a mistake! God, do you have any idea what this is like for me? I feel this...thing too, and I don’t even know you! I don’t...I can’t even trust why you’re here.”

“That’s exactly why it was a mistake. Let it go, and we’ll never speak of it again,” she said, stepping away from him.

“You aren’t in love with my father,” he said he said in a low voice.

“What!” she asked, furious. “How dare you!”

“If you were in love with him, you wouldn’t have kissed me,” he accused.

“You kissed me!” she practically shouted.

“You let me,” he countered. “You let me and then you kissed me back.”

“Is that what this is about, you trying to prove that I’m not in love with Phillip?” she asked, her heart secretly falling. “Are you toying with me so that you can show your father he should get rid of me?”

“No!” he grated, running a hand through his hair. "God, I can’t….. I’ve never felt… “

He started to speak and she silenced him with a look.

“Don’t say any more, Max. Just...don’t,” she said in a warning tone.

His eyes pierced her as he pleaded, “Tell me what you’re hiding Liz,”

“Your father loves me, and I love him,” she said in defiance, practically choking on the lie.

“Oh really?” he asked, glancing toward the bed.

“Then why are you sleeping in here?” he asked, looking at the rumpled sheets.

“I’m...I’m not!”” she stuttered, and she saw that he clearly didn’t believe her.

She had to think fast. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I came in here to lie down while your father was packing,” she said in a lame voice.

“You’re lying. You’re lying about a lot of things,” he said.

“If there’s something you’re hiding because you’re scared, I can help you, but you have to tell me the truth,” he said, “and if you’re hell-bent on marrying my father, for whatever stupid reasons are making you think that it’s a good idea, then fine. What happened between us, I can pretend it never happened if that’s what you want. But I have to know that we can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

“Then tell me the truth,” he pleaded, and she wanted to in the worst way.

But thoughts of David and her promise to Phillip that Max never know of it, kept her lips silent.

A pregnant silence hung between them.

“There is nothing to tell,” she said, finally, and his jaw tightened.

“Fine,” he said tightly, turning from her. “If you won’t tell me, then I’ll just have to find out on my own.”

“Max...” she said in a pleading voice, as the loud slam of the door made her flinch.

A strangled sob fell from her lips as she sank to the floor.

What was she going to do?

******

At 10:00 a.m. New York time, Phillip’s cell phone rang.

“Hello?” he said in a pleasant voice.

“What were you [/I]thinking[/I]!” Liz practically screamed on the other end.

“Liz, what’s wrong?” he asked, confused.

“I don’t know what your plan was,” she snapped angrily, “but it’s not going to work. I can’t believe that you would do something like this!”

“I’m a little confused here,” he said, frowning.

“Well maybe you can explain to me whether this set-up with Max was your intention from the beginning,” she grated. “Because, if it was, then everything I thought I knew about you was wrong.”

Phillip grimaced.

“Liz, I’m not sure what it is you’re talking about,” he began.

“Don’t give me that!” she retorted. “What about the trip to Old Mesilla, and the dinner tonight.”

“Charlotte put a dress out for you,” she mimicked.

Phillip sighed. He’d hoped the night would go well, and by the tone of Liz’s voice, he knew that it had not.

“I’m not stupid Phillip,” she hissed. “So please, I need to know what you were thinking in doing something like this! Do you realize that Max is more determined now than he ever was to find out the truth?”

“What happened?” he asked in a dull voice.

There was a short pause on the other end of the line.

“It doesn’t matter what happened. I never should have been put in that position in the first place!” she said.

He thought carefully on what to say next, and knew he had to tell her the truth.

“That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind when I offered to bring you back with me,” he said defensively.

When Liz didn’t say anything in response he continued.

“But maybe I was hoping that you and Max were...hitting it off. I just thought I would give you two a gentle nudge,” he said. “Don’t tell me that there isn’t some attraction between you two. I saw it myself.”

“Phillip, there can’t be anything between us! When I agreed to this, it was because I knew you didn’t love me, and I didn’t love you. I needed that, so that if I had to walk away, I wouldn’t have any ties, any regrets. How could you even consider doing this?” she asked.

“You won’t tell me your family’s connection to David. You said that I could never tell Max about him. You made me lie to him. Why on Earth would you try to...I can’t even say it. How could I ever live a lie like that, if I had feelings for him? How could you expect me to keep the truth from him? How could you ever think that it would work?” she asked, miserably.

“Tell me this. Do you feel something for my son?” he asked quietly. “There’s something there. Even I could see it.”

“Phillip, what do you want me to tell you? I don’t know. It’s too soon to even say anything like that. I don't even know him. Anyway, it doesn't matter. It can't ever happen,” she said in a soft voice.

"Keeping your involvement with David a secret doesn't have to be forever," he said. "Just...now would be the worst time to tell him."

"I have to be able to walk away Phillip," she said. "You know I'm fond of you, but if I had to I'd leave. You knew that. Somehow I don't think I'd be able to do that if I let myself feel anything for Max," she said.

"That's what I'm counting on," he said.

"Phillip," she said in a frustrated tone. "Get it out of your head. It's never going to happen. I know you want what you had with Diane for your son, but it just can't be. We're too...different."

"Do you think that Max is perfect? Do you think that he couldn't possibly understand where you are right now? You'd be wrong," he said in defense of his son.

"Then tell me why," she countered. "Tell me what happened to him. Tell me what this big secret is that makes him the way he is."

Phillip paused.

"I can't. It's not just my secret to tell," he said.

"Do you see why this isn’t going work, Phillip? How can I marry you? There are so many deceptions already, and I've not even been here a week," she said. “It’s all a lie.”

“I’m going to make it work,” he said firmly. “One way or another.”

“No, there is no “another” here Phillip,” she said. “I don’t want to hear another word about your crazy idea about Max and I, and if you so much as try anything, I swear I’m gone.”

Phillip sighed.

“Fine, if that’s the way you want it,” he said.

“It’s the way it has to be,” she answered.

.

Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been having RL and pc issues.

Part 17

Three days later

Max knew that Liz had been studiously avoiding him, and if the truth were to be told, he didn't want to see her either. His heart and head had been one jumbled mass of confusion. Caught between concern and exasperation, attraction and irritation, he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything. Each day he'd left the house early and traveled to his office, only to sit at his desk, unable to get his mind off of that night, that flash, and their explosive kiss.

Now more than ever, he was convinced she was hiding something. He'd felt sworn he'd felt her response to him, as thrilling and unfamiliar as his own attraction to her was to him

Her defensive response when he confronted her only proved his point. She was sleeping in separate quarters, away from his father.

Was his father that much in love with Liz that he would accept her hand in marriage, when it was obvious that the attraction was definitely more on Phillip's end. After all, she couldn't possibly respond to Phillip as she'd responded to him.

Could she?

He started to doubt everything he knew with so many unanswered questions.

God, was she "saving herself" for Phillip? Was that what the separate sleeping arrangements were about?

Had he been wrong about everything?

He had kissed her first, but he felt her respond to him. He would have sworn it.

True, she was going to marry his father. But he didn't see that fire in her eyes when she looked at Phillip. He didn't see that vulnerability in her face that showed even when she tried to hide it when she was around Phillip.

Too many things didn't make sense.

There was the vision of the dead man Frank, and the shadowy woman. So who was she?

And then there was another vision of his brother Carlo torturing her. Who was he and how did he know Liz? Why were he and his brother hurting Liz? Was it blackmail? Or something worse?

And finally the vision of the dead woman and a baby. Lucinda. Liz cried for her as if she were a sister, as if she'd known her well, as if her heart was going to break. Who was that woman to her?

Both the visions were at least partially in a heavy forest, and he sensed it was warm and humid. How did that tie into everything?

Was she a Navy Seal or some Special Forces Cadet?

And Carlos seemed to be after her personally, as though he knew her, and he was American, by his accent. Why had Liz killed Carlos' brother? It didn't make sense, any of it.

And then there was her mother seemed ruthless and portrayed her as something quite the same, yet everything in his heart screamed she was not. But these powerful people she was making deals with, were they the Special Unit? Was she here to expose them? Or did she not have a choice in the matter?

He stared at the envelope that had been Fed-Ex'd by Michael from California. He'd said over the phone that he'd find it "interesting".

Sighing, he ripped the envelope open and took out the micro-cassette inside.

He pulled his player out of his drawer and popped the tape inside, hitting the play button.

"I hope this place is ok," Michael said.

"It's fine," a female voice said.

"Probably the best you're going to get around here," she added with a laugh.

"So, what's good here?" he heard Michael ask.

"Oh pretty much anything on the menu, but their Mexican dishes are the specialty of the house," she answered.

Max listened to their idle chatter for long moments, and noted the difference from Michael's normal gruffness. He smiled to himself. This Maria must have sparked his interest, at least temporarily, as was his pattern.

Suddenly her voice again caught his attention. Michael had asked her how she got by out in the desert.

"I work two jobs, she said.

"But hopefully soon, I can cut it down to one," she said.

"How's that?" he asked. "Coming into money?"

He'd said it in a joking manner, but Max knew what he was up to.

"No. My friend's going to help me and Mom out with money. I'm not going to live in that dump forever and neither is my mom," she added.

"That's good," Michael said.

"So, it must be a lot of money if it's going to get you a new place," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "She win the lottery?"

"Nah, but she might as well have. She met this really nice guy who is really rich and powerful...older, and he's giving her whatever she wants. So, she said 'What's a little money between friends?" she said with a laugh.

"Sounds like a generous friend. The guy must be really hot for her to give her money like that. She love him, or is it just the money?" he asked.

"No, she really digs the guy. He's real sweet to her. But her ma, she's in jail, she ain't so nice, and I have a feeling that she's going to have to pay her off to keep her quiet. Wouldn't do for it to get out that she has a jailbird mother. Rich people don't like that kind of stuff marring their families," she said.

"So the guy doesn't know that her mom is in jail?" he asked.

"Sure he does. He ain't stupid. He just ain't told his kids, cause they're the types that will call him insane for getting involved with her and would probably take his money," she answered. "Some people can be so cynical."

"The guy was the one that had some strings pulled to get Mom transferred to New Mex, just to shut her up for awhile. He said he'd take care of her mother, give her what she wanted to keep her quiet and away from his kids. He said the money wasn't anything to him," she said. "I just hope her mom doesn't ruin it for her."

"See, my friend deserves a good life, 'cause she ain't had it easy. Her mom conned her way through her childhood and then got busted in a money-laundering racket and her friend was left to fend for herself. She didn't have much when she was younger. No father to speak of, only her mother, and I was the only person she trusted, because like attracts like," she said.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"I didn’t know my father either, so I could sympathize. I know how hard it was for me," she said.

What Michael said next shocked Max.

"I know what you mean," he said in a quiet voice. "I lost the only father I ever knew when I was really young. I don't think I've been the same since. I have family, but it isn't the same, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Maria said in a soft voice.

"What happened?" she asked, sounding truly curious.

Max could almost hear Michael shut down through the tape.

"An accident," he answered vaguely.

"Car?" he asked.

"Something like that," he said.

There was an uncomfortable silence on the tape, and then Maria cleared her throat.

"Yeah so, that was becoming a downer," she said. "What do you say we order?"

Again the conversation turned light, Maria talking about her mother and work, and Michael adding his own fabricated story of employment, that of a painter. Which really wasn't a lie, because Michael did paint, he just didn't make any money at it.

"Well imagine me...meeting an artist in the middle of nowhere," she said with a laugh.

"Thanks again...you know, for stopping. I could have been caught out there all day," he said.

"Those damned new cars can be temperamental in the heat," she said.

"So I discovered," he said dryly.

"Well, you didn't have to buy me dinner," she said. "It was just a ride."

"No...I wanted to," he said, and again, Max was caught by surprise at his tone.

He would have to give a little of what he got when Michael got back.

The conversation continued for another few seconds, and then was cut off sharply.

"Since I can't seem to get you on the phone, and you're not calling me back, even though Michelle's been telling me you're in the office. I figured I should send this back," Michael said, not hiding the irritation in his tone.

"So it seems that everything we thought was true, is pretty much on the money, except it sounds like Maria's under the impression that Liz cares about your Dad. So what do we do about it? Your Dad knows about her mother. We have to be careful, Maxwell. There's some reason that Phillip is helping Liz out here, and I'm not sure that the reason's a good one. Don't mention anything to your Dad yet that you know about her mother. I want to do some more checking around first," he said.

"We're running out of time Michael," Max muttered at the recorder, sitting back in the chair. His avoidance of Michael over the past few days had been intentional, and now he just realized that Michael didn't even know that the wedding was happening in two and a half weeks.

"So many things still don't make sense. Your Dad knows about this. But if this was all there was to it, then why did Liz's mother say that she was talking to powerful people?" Michael mused on the tape.

"I don't know, Max. We're missing something important here. Maybe it's just that your Dad's afraid that you'd flip a lid because of what Liz is, but I can't stop thinking that there's more to this than we're seeing," Michael said.

"Call me," he finished, and the tape went dead.

****
It had been 5 days since Phillip had left, and she'd spent every waking moment of it avoiding Max. She'd gone shopping. She'd hid herself away in the garden. She'd holed herself up in her room, asking for her dinner to be brought there. She just couldn't deal with being in his presence.

She didn't want to think about the attraction between them. She was furious with Phillip for leaving her in this predicament. She hadn't imagined her life could become any more difficult, but somehow it had.

How could she go through with this? The man she'd kissed with such abandon just mere nights ago was technically going to be her son in-law.

She hadn't slept. Her dreams tormented her, divided between her nightmares of Carlo and altogether inappropriate scenarios her overactive imagination put her in with Max Evans.

Though she studiously avoided Max for days, he had taken up permanent residence in her thoughts.

She cursed her inability to get beyond it. And she had to. Everything depended on it.

But then why was she finding herself dwelling on the way his lips felt against hers, or the immediate sense of rightness when she was in his arms? Why did she catch herself wondering if she really could trust him?

But that was madness, and there was too much riding on all of this to make an error in judgment. There was too much at stake.

None of her logical arguments stopped the shivers from racing up her spine when she heard the low rumble of Max's voice in the kitchen talking to Charlotte. Nor did it stop her heart from beating just a little bit quicker when she chanced a peek out the window in the morning when she knew he was leaving for work. He was unimaginably handsome and yet maddening enigma.

Finding creative ways to avoid him was making her weary, but when she'd gotten the call from Isabel asking her to dinner, she almost would have rather stayed at the house and taken her chances running into Max.

She would have to tell Isabel about the impending wedding. It wasn't fair to keep it from her, when it was such a short time away. She cursed Phillip for putting her in this position as she accepted the invitation.

Now she sat in front of the Whitman house, anxiety threatening to overwhelm her. From outside, the windows glowed with warm light, lending an inviting air. She wished she could be certain that it would be the case after she'd broken the news.

Taking a deep breath and smoothing her hair, she thanked Manuel and told him she'd call when she was ready to leave.

She got out of the car and started up the walkway, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. She didn't quite understand why the Evans' children's acceptance had become so important to her. Of course it was important for the obvious reason. If they liked her, they were less likely to dig around in her past. But it went deeper than that for her. She saw a family, a family that granted had some problems, but a family nonetheless. She genuinely liked Isabel and Alex, and though her feelings were muddied with Max, she had found herself needing to convince him that she meant them no harm.

Sooner or later, she was going to have to face Max again, and she wasn't sure how she was going to be able to deal with it. The feeling she elicited in her were something she'd never felt, never allowed herself to feel before, and despite her best efforts to discard them, she found that she couldn't. Deep down she was terrified that if it continued, she wouldn't be able to follow through with marrying Phillip knowing that Max's life would forever be intermingled with her own. That thought was unbearable.

He had admitted there was something between them, some primal attraction that drew them together when every sense of logic they both possessed told them that it was a mistake.

She prayed for the strength to follow through on what she needed to do, for she'd run out of options.

She reached the door and rang the bell.

Almost immediately, the door was opened and Isabel appeared, silhouetted by the warm light filtering out of the doorway.

"Liz," she said with a smile, "I'm so glad you came."

She stepped back to let her in, and Liz clutched her hands nervously in front of her.

"Thanks for inviting me," she said. "It was sweet of you."

She took in Isabel's appearance with wry admiration.

She wore a simple long black skirt and a white silk blouse, casually cinched at the waist, accentuating her curvaceous figure. Her hair was pulled up on her head, not a single strand out of place. Her makeup was immaculately applied to give her just a hint of color. She looked every bit the part of a lawyer's wife.

"Come in," she said, motioning her to the dining room. "We were just getting ready to set everything out."

Alex greeted Liz with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and held her chair out for her to be seated.

They engaged in small talk for a bit, until Isabel inquired about the house.

"So Liz, how has Max been treating you?" she asked, putting her napkin on her lap.

Liz blanched.

"I haven't seen very much of him lately," she admitted. "I think he's been busy in the office."

Isabel gave Alex a look, and then turned to her with a smile.

"Well, I hate to say it, but that's probably to your benefit," she said, shaking her head. "Max can be so...overbearing at times."

"And she's being polite," Alex added with a wag of his brow.

Isabel chuckled.

"I hope he hasn't been too hard on you," Isabel said. "He just...I don't know...."

She paused to take a sip of water.

"He doesn't trust me," Liz said, and Isabel practically choked on her drink. Isabel set her glass down and looked at Liz, stunned that she would be so open about it.

"Well it's the truth isn't it?" Liz asked quietly.

"Liz, you have to understand something about Max," Isabel began.

"You know Isabel, I really don't want to understand any more about Max than I already do," Liz said. "I'd love to find some way to prove to all of you that I don't want anything from you, but I just don't see a way to do that."

Alex looked from Isabel to Liz and coughed.

"Why don't we drop the heavy discussions until after dinner?" he asked with a smile.

Isabel shook her head apologetically.

"I'm so sorry Liz. I'm being a terrible hostess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You're our guest and I wanted this to be an enjoyable meal and look how it's started out?" she said.

Liz smiled.

"You're not a terrible hostess, and I'm glad I came. Please, let's just enjoy the dinner," she said, effectively ending the train of conversation for the time being.

Throughout the rest of the meal, they spoke of neutral things, Alex's job, Isabel's charity work, the gardens, and New Mexico in general.

Liz was dreading bringing the conversation around to an uncomfortable topic once again, but she knew she had to tell them hers and Phillip's news.

After they'd finished the meal, they moved into the living room to have coffee. Liz knew that she had put the inevitable off long enough. She set her cup down on the table and steeled herself to her to tell them what she'd been putting off all evening.

"I have something to tell you both," she said in a low voice, and Isabel and Alex looked at her expectantly.

"Good news I hope?" Alex asked, and Liz nodded, not really believing it.

"Phillip...your father and I, are getting married in two weeks," she said.

Alex's eyes widened, and Isabel sat with her mouth open, stunned into silence.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but Phillip as you know has been away on business, and he wanted to wait, but I didn't think it was fair not to tell you with it being so close," Liz blurted.

"That was what the dinner was for, before he left for New York, the one we couldn't make," Isabel mused, looking at her.

"Yeah," Liz said lamely.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and then Alex rose and walked over to her.

"Congratulations," he said warmly as she rose from her chair. He embraced her with a smile.

Isabel rose from the sofa and did the same.

"I'm truly happy for the both of you," Isabel said, pulling back.

Alex interrupted momentarily.

"Hon, I don't mean to be rude, but I've got some reading to do for my case tomorrow. Would either of you mind if I went into the study for awhile?" he asked.

Liz immediately caught on to the fact that he was excusing himself for a reason.

Both Isabel and Liz shook their heads and Alex bid Liz goodnight, leaving them both sitting alone on the sofa.

"Isabel, I know that neither you or Max was thrilled about your father and I," Liz began, and Isabel held up her hand.

"It's not me you have to worry about," she said, shaking her head.

"You mean Max," Liz said, looking at the floor.

"And Michael," Isabel said.

“But I would never...” Liz began, looking up at her.

“It isn’t just about you,” Isabel says quietly. “Max and Michael...they haven’t had it easy, things are different for them, and they have trust issues. I went through the same thing with Alex. Max and Michael gave me a hard time when I married him. It almost tore Alex and I apart. I’m grateful every day that he loved me enough to endure what they put him through.”

“And this is all about money? Money doesn’t mean everything to everyone,” Liz said, shaking her head.

“It’s not just money,” Isabel said, her eyes drifting to the wall, a distant look to them. “It’s a trust thing.”

“But why?” Liz asked. She needed to know, and not just because she needed to somehow make Max trust her. She wanted to know for selfish reasons. She wanted to know what had happened to Max to make him the way that he was.

Isabel seemed to snap back to the present.

“It’s not my place to say,” she said. “All I can tell you is that someone betrayed our family a long time ago, and it resulted in losing someone who was very dear to all of us. Our family was never the same, and my father...well, he shut himself off from everyone for a long time, until after my mother died. His distance effected Max and Michael more than even he had realized.”

Liz nodded, no closer to the truth, but unwilling to push the tentative friendship forming between herself and Isabel.

Isabel smiled at her.

“I’m happy for the both of you. I really am,” she said, reaching over to take her hand. “Things will die down with Max. Don’t worry. If you have nothing to hide, then he’s eventually going to have to face the fact that you’re going to become part of our family. And I’m here to talk if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Liz said, gratefully. She really did like Isabel, and that made things worse. She could never confide her secrets, but she found herself wishing that she could.

“And you know,” Isabel said brightly, “I’m a great organizer. I’ve done so many charity events, and I can help you with the wedding plans. You’re going to need help with it being so close.”

“I’d love that,” Liz said, feeling her heart fall at the thought of her wedding day. Before she’d come to New Mexico, she’d thought that it would be the answer to all her prayers. But that was before she’d met Max Evans. He was infuriating, devastatingly handsome, and supremely irritating, but she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

But she had to. She had no choice.

“I should really go,” Liz said, pulling out her phone to call Manuel. “It’s getting late, and Phillip will be home tomorrow night.”

Isabel nodded and Liz made the call.

“I’ll just wait by the door,” she said as she hung up. “He’s only around the corner.”

She stood, and Isabel stood with her, walking to the door.

“Liz,” Isabel said, and Liz turned around to face her.

“I’m hoping we can be friends,” she said, uncharacteristically unsure of her herself. “I don’t....I don’t have too many of them.”

Liz smiled at her as she opened the door.

“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Goodnight,” Liz said.

***********

Isabel watched Liz walk to the car, with a careful expression.

She’d been dream-walking her the past few nights, and had been wholly shocked to see that her brother had been a big part of them. Liz wasn’t in love with her father. She was falling in love with Max.

In all of her visits to Liz’s dreams, not one of them had left her with the impression that she meant anyone any harm. Instead, it seemed she was the one that was in danger. There was much more to her story than met the eye, but the dreams had been too vague to put the pieces together. She dared not ask her father about it. She suspected, like Max, that her father didn’t have the kind of feelings he was supposed to be having for Liz. There was something else at play here. She would just have to keep an eye on it.

A small smile appeared on her face as she watched the car drive away.

She’d figured out days ago why Max was so disturbed over Liz’s appearance in New Mexico with her father, and it had much less to do with the danger she posed to the family, and much more to do with his attraction to the pretty young woman. He would know what it had been like to be in her shoes.

Yes, she’d just sit back and watch this play out. It was time her brother learned what it was like to be under the spell of love. It was long overdue

TBC

Sorry I've got to post and run.

Part 18

The sun was peeking over the horizon and Max hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He 'd been in his room when she'd returned from Isabel's. He'd known she was there not because he'd spoken to Isabel, because he hadn't talked to her since their argument at her house, but because he'd attempted to nonchalantly ask Charlotte where Ms. Delatorre had gone for the evening.

She'd given him a long look, as if she should have known, and told him that Ms. Delatorre had been invited to Senora Isabel's house.

No doubt Charlotte was curious as to why he wasn't there as well, and her expression said as much. Or maybe she was just a little disturbed at him being home at all. Most evenings, she'd be long gone before he ever walked in the door. It was an unusual occasion for him to return to the house before 9 p.m., and he realized he'd done that more in the past two weeks than had had in years.

Max shrugged it off, taking his dinner to his room. The truth was, he had more work than he could handle, but he couldn't concentrate on any of it, because all he could think about was Liz and their shared kiss.

It wasn't as if he didn't feel badly about it. He knew it was wrong. He knew that he had betrayed his father, for Liz was after all his fiancé.

But he'd been helpless against it, helpless against the attraction he'd felt toward her from the moment he saw her. He hid it behind suspicion, because he hadn't wanted to feel it, for so many reasons, his father, their safety, and finally his heart. He had closed it off so long ago to survive.

But Liz had somehow breached the wall around it, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He knew that as much as he didn't want to feel anything for her, she was just as adamant that she didn't want to feel anything toward him either. He knew his own reasons, but the real question was, what were hers?

He heard her come in after 11 p.m., and he'd tried to sleep, but gave up after tossing and turning for hours.

At 3 a.m. he got up, and had been sitting in the chair near the window ever since.

He wished that he could just be sure of who she was, of what danger she did or didn't present to his family.

His father knew about her mother at the correctional facility. Max was sure that he wouldn't appreciate being given the tapes he'd taken from there. And was there a reason to give them to him at all?

He sighed in frustration, conflicted.

How could she, someone he couldn't even say that he could trust, set a fire within him with a mere look?

More than not, he found himself wanting to protect her along with his family.

But that was foolish. Feeling that way was foolish. Feeling anything for her was pure insanity. At least that's what his common sense was telling him, but his heart wanted none of it.

He had to get to the bottom of this thing with her. Maybe if he could convince her to talk to him, if he could find out what was behind her secrecy, then maybe he could distance himself from her.

He needed to talk to Isabel again. As much as he was against her using her abilities, he had to admit that at this moment, it was the only tool they had at their disposal.

******

He arrived at Isabel's house soon after breakfast.

To say that she was surprised to see him in the doorway when she answered it would have been an understatement.

"Max, what are you doing here?" she asked, warily.

"I wanted to apologize for the way that I acted the last time I was here. It was wrong of me to just jump all over you like that," he said sheepishly.

"Fine," Isabel said, nodding her head.

"Look, Isabel, we need to talk," he said, and she nodded, letting him in.

******

"So let me get this straight...now it's suddenly ok to use my abilities, because it's helping you out?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Max sighed. He knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"Not me, Isabel. Us," he said. "We don't have much time left. They're getting married in two weeks."

"And nice of you to tell me, by the way," she retorted, exasperated.

"Oh come on Iz, would you just give me a break? Dad called you and you couldn't make it," Max said. "You and I hadn't exactly left things on great terms that day, and it's not like you didn't know it was coming."

She shot him a glare, and Max decided to change the subject before they started arguing. He needed some answers.

"You didn't answer my question. Have you dream-walked Liz since the last time we spoke?" he asked.

"What if I have?" she asked, challenging him.

"Isabel, if there's something you've seen that could help us figure out what she's up to, and you don't tell us..." he snapped.

"Why is she afraid of you?" Isabel said abruptly.

Max froze.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "What did you see?"

"Nothing relevant to what you're looking for," she hedged. "The feeling I got from the dream was sort of vague. Like she thinks you're going to do something to ruin things, but I don't know what those things are. She's scared Max. I don’t know why, but she's terrified something is going to blow up in her face."

"That's because she's hiding something!" he snapped.

Isabel's eyes narrowed.

"And what if she is?" Isabel retorted. "I just told you, I didn't sense any malicious intentions toward any of us. Yet you still insist on knowing whatever secret it is that she's hiding. Why Max? Why do you care so much?"

"I already told you," he began, and she held up her hand.

"Don't," she said.

"The least you can do is to be honest with yourself, even if you won't be with me. There's more to your insistence on finding out what Liz is hiding, and it has nothing to do with Dad, or any of us," she said.

Max was infuriated. This was not good if his sister could see through him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Max asked.

"I'm not going over this again. It's wasting my time and yours. Figure it out Max, before you wind up hurting more than just yourself," she said, standing up.

"I have a luncheon. I'll see you around," she said, without a backward glance, never acknowledging Max's incredulous stare.

*******

Max pulled back into the driveway, frowning as he noticed Michael's car in the driveway. The day had already gone bad, and he had a feeling it was about to get worse.

He walked into the study to find Michael sitting in the chair behind the desk, his feet propped up on its mahogany surface, flipping through a magazine.

He looked up as heard Max come in and his feet dropped to the floor.

"Michael," Max said with a nod.

"Don't Michael me," Michael grumbled. "Where the hell have you been? You don't return phone calls now?"

"Look, things got a little...sticky around here, ok? I'm here now, so tell me what you found out," Max snapped.

"Touchy," Michael goaded.

"Michael," Max said in a warning tone.

"All right, fine. I found nada, nothing, zilch," he said, leaning back in the chair. "Everything checks out, Max."

Max sat in the chair across the desk with a frustrated sigh.

"Look, maybe we are being paranoid, seeing more to this than there really is," Michael said, rubbing his temples.

"No," Max said in a hard tone.

"Why not?" Michael said. "Max, are you sure that you're not just looking for an excuse not to like her?"

"I'm looking out for the family!" Max said, his voice rising. "Jesus Christ, when have I put myself first, ever?"

"Calm down Max," Michael said. "Look, forget it. All I'm saying is that I can't find anything on this girl other than what we've already got. And it makes sense, as much as you might not want to admit it."

"What the hell is this? A little time with that Maria woman has you swayed?" Max snapped, and Michael's face flushed.

"Don't even go there Max," Michael warned. "I'm not the one whose having a problem dealing with my feelings. It was work, that's it."

Max let out a heavy breath.

"Look, I'm sorry I said that," Max said in a carefully controlled voice. "It's just that there has to be something else. I can feel it."

"Isn't what we've found out about her bad enough Max? Shit, I wouldn't want her life," he said. " Maybe she would be one of the good ones. Like Alex."

"Jesus, Michael, I don't need you turning on me now. There's more to it than that. I saw things from her, memories. People are after her, or were after her, and she's afraid of them. And if she's afraid, she'll do whatever they want her to," he said.

"And how exactly did you see these "things", Max?" Michael asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I just did, all right? It's not important. What's important is what I saw! People around her were killed. The men after her aren't playing around, and if they have anything to do with the Special Unit, then we're all in danger," Max said.

"Even though I didn't sense anything malicious coming from her, that doesn't mean she isn't under someone else's control. It just can't be that simple, that she was merely hiding an imprisoned mother. Dad knows about it, and he's paying her off, but about the comment Sharon had made in the jail? It didn't make sense," Max said, shaking his head.

"And why didn't they just tell him the truth if that was the case? No there was something else going on. I'm sure of it," Max said.

"Max, I don't know what else to tell you. I've done everything I can think of. I guess the best thing we can do is just to keep a close eye on her," Michael said.

"I don't think that's going to be good enough," Max muttered.

*******

Max had gone into the office, immersing himself in work until his eyes could no longer stare at the computer screen.

Much later that night, he returned to the house, seeing most of the lights in the house were out, as they should be, as it was well after midnight.

Despite his wearied eyes, he knew his pent-up frustration was once again going to keep him from sleep.

Prowling around in the house wasn't appealing. He'd done too much of that the past few days, and so he decided to take a walk around the grounds.

For a long while he just followed the hedges throughout the large property, barely noticing them or the way the moonlight drenched the evergreen leaves in silver.

Never in his life had he ever felt so unsettled, so out of control, and it scared him more than he wanted to admit. The idea that a diminutive brown-eyed girl could turn his world upside down in a matter of mere days was unnerving, and it clouded his judgment.

His father would be home tomorrow, and their wedding plans would progress, and in a matter of days, she would be his father's wife.

So why did the very thought of that have the power to make him feel physically ill?

"You're up late," a soft voice said from behind, and he stiffened.

He turned to face its owner emerging from the shadows of the garden.

Her skin looked alabaster, perfection in the moonlight. Her eyes glittered ebony under it's pale light. The shadows that played across her face sculpted her bone structure perfectly. Her hair fell across her chest, the breeze teasing the ends in a playful dance before once again dropping them to her shoulders.

She was beautiful under night's canopy, an ethereal vision, vulnerable, exotic and lovely.

His breath caught in his throat for an instant, before he pulled himself together, clearing his throat.

"I had a lot of work to do in the office, and I'm just trying to wind down," he said gruffly, his eyes taking in her demure robe before he caught himself, looking away.

How could a fairly plain robe be so distracting? But the creamy "V" that it exposed near her throat was oddly mesmerizing.

"Well, I'll just leave you alone to...wind down," Liz said, taking a step back.

"No," he said quickly, without even thinking about it.

She looked at him with a slightly surprised expression.

"You don't have to go," he said, feeling his face color, hoping she couldn't see it in the murk.

"We can walk," she offered.

Shrugging, he fell in beside her, shoving his hands in his front pockets, where they weren't likely to get him into trouble. He cursed at himself silently for even thinking about it. What was it about this woman that drove him to distraction?

They completed a full circuit around the property before she spoke.

"I couldn't sleep either," she said in a low voice.

"Why not?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Truth?" she asked, and he nodded.

She looked up at the moon.

"It bothers me that we're fighting," she said. "I've wanted to talk to you for the past few days."

"You and I have rubbed each other the wrong way, one way or another since the moment we met, no pun intended," she said dryly.

"And...." Max prompted.

"And," she said with a sigh, "I don't want it to be this way. Max, we're going to be family-"

An image of Liz in a wedding dress popped into his head unbidden, an image of her standing next to his father.

"Let’s not rub it in, ok?" he said darkly.

"Max I'm not trying to-"

"If you want to act like the other night happened, then that's fine with me, Liz. But just be straight with me. I know there's something you're not telling me. If you're in some kind of trouble then I need to know-"

"God, why can't you just drop this?" she said, turning to him, tears filling her eyes. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

“Because, too much is at stake here, and I know you’re hiding something,” he said. “I let it go the other night, but I’m not going to drop it.”

“If I was hiding something, why would I tell you?” she retorted, hot tears running down her cheeks. “Max, my life is none of your business, regardless of how much you think you have the right to pry into my past because I’m marrying your father.”

“This isn’t just about my father and you know it!” he returned.

“This isn’t why I brought any of this up,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then why did you?” he asked hotly, his eyes flashing.

“Because...because I can’t stand the fact that you can’t trust me, and I can’t imagine that things between us are going to be this way from now on,” she said.

His heart tightened painfully in his chest and her words and their implied meaning. She was talking about after she married his father.

He looked at the ground.

“Max,” she whispered. “What happened the other night never should have. I don’t know why it did, but...we just have to put it behind us and never bring it up again. I don’t even know why it happened. You don’t trust me, and I knew that right from the beginning. I wish that things...”

“You wish what?” he muttered.

Tender fingers caressed his face and he looked up and met her eyes.

“Max, maybe in another lifetime...I just, I don’t want to feel what I’m feeling. Do you understand that?” she asked.

“Where does that leave my father?” he said.

She looked away for an instant, closing her eyes before opening them and meeting his again with a pain-filled expression.

“Your father has become everything to me,” she said in a trembling voice. “He took me in, and he didn’t care what I was, or where I’d been. He loves me for who I am.”

“But he doesn’t know you,” Max said angrily. “No one knows who you really are.”

“He knows enough to know that he can accept me the way I am. He can accept a past I don’t want to relive, and never pushes for more than I’m ready to give,” she said.

“It sounds pretty safe to me,” Max snapped sarcastically.

“Could you do the same?” she challenged him.

And he couldn’t answer that, because he knew that if he had Liz Delatorre, he would want to know everything about her, inside and out, the good and the bad. He wouldn’t accept any less.

He watched her chest rise and fall in a tremulous sigh, her cheeks glistening with tears.

“I thought so,” she whispered.

“Just leave it alone Max. I promise you this. I would rather die than see any harm come to any of you. You can trust that. I know what it’s like to have your family ripped apart. I know what that kind of pain is. So if you can’t trust in anything else I say, then trust in that,” she said.

He didn’t know how to answer her, and so he said nothing.

In one moment, her eyes searched his, pleading for understanding, her fingertips seeming to burn his cheeks, and he realized in that moment that he believed her with every atom of his being.

Deep in his heart, he had always sensed that she wouldn’t do anything that would endanger his family, but the look in her eyes only confirmed it. In that one moment, his whole mission switched from finding out what she was hiding to protect his family, to finding out what she was hiding to protect her and his family.

And then her soft lips pressed against his in a bittersweet plea, her fingers trailing down his cheek to his neck caressing the soft hair at the nape of it.

She pulled away slowly.

“I’m going to marry your father, Max,” she said in a low voice.

“Please, even if you don’t trust me, if you care for me at all, just leave this alone,” she finished.

And then she was gone through the hedges, leaving him with his conflicted emotions.

There was no more denying it. Isabel had seen it, Michael had eluded to it, and he couldn’t fool himself any longer, nor make any more excuses for his interest in her.

He was falling for her. Every cell in his being rebelled against it, against the knowledge that he would be hurt in the end.

She had made up her mind. She was going to marry his father, and if that was what she truly wanted, then she would have it, but not before he made sure that she would be safe, for good this time.

Part 19

The next morning found Liz bleary-eyed and distraught.

Every instinct told Liz that she should run, but she had nowhere to run to.

Her conversation with Max the night before had left her emotions in turmoil, because deep in her heart, she knew she'd lied to him.

She couldn't help but want those feelings she was having for him, and if things were different, she would have told him so.

But they weren't, and her reality didn't allow her that freedom.

She sighed as rested her chin on her closed palm, looking out at the gardeners tending to the lush greenery of the grounds.

This place was idyllic, a place where most people would give anything to live. Yet its inhabitants had wreaked havoc in her already chaotic life, and she didn't know where to turn.

Today Phillip would be returning home, and she would have to confront the reality of her impending marriage.

Isabel had already called to ask her when she wanted to get together to plan some of the details, but her heart wasn't in it, for more reasons than one.

She was still angry with Phillip for putting her in this situation with Max. Moreover, she didn't understand it. Why would he subject his son to the dangers her life would bring him?

Phillip doing it was bad enough, but at least she understood his reasoning.

Her thoughts turned once more to Max, someone who she knew she should be considering a foe, and yet somehow could not.

She saw pain in his eyes. Phillip had confirmed that Max had a secret, one that had made him the way that he was.

She supposed she couldn't blame him for not telling her, after all, she had plenty of her own secrets.
The sound of voices in the hall below drew her attention. She immediately recognized Phillip's, and then heard another familiar voice.

She froze for a moment, her mind not registering that it could be true.

"Maria?" she whispered and jumped up and ran to the door, flinging it wide. She rushed to the staircase, looking down over the banister, her eyes telling her that what she'd heard was true.

"Maria!" she exclaimed.

Maria lifted her head and smiled.

"Hey girl," she said with a grin.

"Oh my God!" she shouted starting down the stairs at a run.

She practically knocked her the blond girl over as she threw her arms around her dearest friend.

"What are you doing here?" Liz asked, looking at Phillip.

Maria pulled back to look at Phillip with a sly grin.

He winked at her, with a chuckle.

"I figured I'd better do something to make up for my little...mistake before I left," he said. "I can't have my future bride angry with me, can I?"

Liz shook her head, realizing the implications of her friend being there.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Liz whispered in low voice.

“Hey, we’ve been apart long enough,” Maria said with a meaningful look.

"Maria's going to be staying for awhile," he said.

"But what about your mom?" Liz asked, turning quickly to her friend.

"She's fine...she’s good," Maria said.

*****

Max watched the scene unfold in the foyer from the hall upstairs, undetected.

When he'd heard Liz's voice, he'd thought something was wrong and had come out of his room to see what was going on, and had made it to the top of the stairs just in time to see the events unfold downstairs.

For a moment, he was blinded to everything but the uncharacteristic unguarded expression Liz had on her face.

She was breathtaking to begin with, but when that radiant smile broke over her features, her pure beauty caused his heart to twist in his chest.

He wondered what it would be like to have her smile at him like that. He had a feeling that it would be worth any effort required to make it happen.

The sound of Michael's motorcycle snapped him back to reality.

This wasn't good.

In fact, this had the makings of disaster written all over it.

*****

It took the sound of Phillip's voice to bring Liz's attention to their visitor.

"Michael, you're here early," Phillip observed.

"You haven't met my fiance Liz yet, have you?" Phillip asked, as Liz got her first look at the apparently elusive Michael.

"It's nice to meet you Michael," Liz said cautiously.

"Hey," Michael said, with a nod, before Liz stood back to reveal Maria.

Liz looked over at her friend, who quickly hid a bemused expression. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Well now, isn't this a coincidence?" Maria said, putting on a shocked expression, and Michael paled as he looked to the owner of that sultry voice.

"You," he stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

"Well damn, I know it's a surprise, but a hello would be nice," Maria said, her eyes narrowed.

Michael looked like he was going to be nauseous, and mumbled a greeting.

"You two know each other?" Phillip asked with a raised eyebrow.

Liz watched Maria stare at Michael, who was desperately trying to come up with an excuse.

"Acquaintances," Maria said to Phillip.

"We met awhile back in Cali, right Michael?" she asked with a raised brow.

Michael nodded.

"Hmm, small world," Phillip commented. "You'll have to tell me about it sometime. But right now I need to get some rest."

"Liz, can I speak with you for a moment upstairs?" Phillip asked.

Liz nodded, and turned to her friend.

"Maria, I'll be right back," Liz said, and her Maria nodded.

"Take your time. Me and Michael just have to catch up. It's been ages," she drawled, looking at Michael, who swallowed hard.

Liz looked back over her shoulder quickly as she followed Phillip up the stairs. She had no idea that Phillip was going to bring Maria here, but now that she was here, she knew that Maria would definitely set things on end. Michael had no idea what he was in for.

*****

"Phillip, I thought we'd agreed that Maria was going to stay out of this for now. Isn't this going to mess things up?" she asked, worried.

"We stepped things up a bit. It's going to work to our advantage," Phillip said.

"And how's that?" Liz asked, her eyes narrowing.

Phillip draped his blazer over the desk chair, tugging at his tie.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control,” he said.

“Don’t worry? Phillip, you’ve already kept me in the dark about one of your crazy ideas. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just ask Maria and she will,” Liz snapped, her eyes flashing angrily. “I thought we agreed that Maria was only going to feed Michael the story you created. What is she doing here?”

Phillip sighed and dropped into the chair.

“I had some time to think while I was away, and this is going to work to our advantage,” he said.

“Oh, so you schemed this up on the trip you planned hoping that I would fall in love with your son while you were away?” Liz quipped sarcastically.

Phillip ignored the barbed retort.

“Look, Maria being here is perfect. She just set the whole thing up downstairs. Didn’t you notice that she let him off the hook by being deliberately vague about their meeting? With any luck, she’ll convince him he can trust her. And if he trusts her, it will only make things better for everyone,” he said.

******

“So, do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Maria asked Michael dryly. “Don’t think for a minute that I believe that this is some coincidence.”

Michael stared at her, his eyes narrowed.

“If you don’t believe this is a coincidence, then why didn’t you tell Phillip the truth?” Michael asked.

Maria studied Michael, for a moment, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind, trying not to be distracted by the fact that he was so her type. When she stopped to “help” him with his car that day, she hadn’t expected to be attracted to him. But she had to snap out of this. Liz’s life and the lives of everyone she cared about were on the line.

“Because I always give people the benefit of the doubt. I’m giving you a chance to explain, though I think I’m already getting the idea. You’re Phillip’s nephew, right?” she asked.

Michael remained silent.

“So I’m guessing that our meeting wasn’t chance either,” she added.

Still, he said nothing.

“And going by what I know about the family business, and inferring that you are in it, that means that you were trying to find some dirty laundry on Liz, right?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Michael muttered.

“But I am here, so you’d better give me a good reason not to tell Liz everything I know,” she said.

“Look, I’m just looking out for my uncle. It’s nothing personal,” he said, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, and here I thought we had a nice dinner and that I had met a really nice guy,” Maria snorted. “I should have known better.”

“I had a good time with you, and that had nothing to do with any of this other stuff.” Michael said, meeting her eyes.

“Is anything you told me about yourself true?” she asked, shaking her head. “About art? About your Dad? I told you things about myself, thinking that…”

“Everything I told you was true,” Michael said quietly.

“Except for who you really are, and what you were doing there,” Maria said. “So was it worth it?”

Michael looked at the floor.

“If it’s any consolation, I believed you,” Michael said. “I believe everything you told me about Liz.”

“Well I had no reason to lie. I had no ulterior motives. You were the one with those,” she muttered, turning to walk up the stairs to find her room.

“Maria,” Michael said, and she turned toward him.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell Liz about your little stakeout. It would only make things worse between Phillip and his family, and they deserve this. They deserve to be happy,” Maria said, turning and beginning the climb up the stairs.

She paused, and turned toward him again.

“Oh, and Michael? Next time you want to know something, just come out and ask. It’s much easier,” she said, before continuing up, leaving an open-mouthed Michael standing at the foot.

*******

Max retreated to his room as soon as he heard Phillip asking to speak to Liz. Now he sat at his small corner desk, dismayed.

There was no way that this could turn out well.

Once Maria told Phillip how she met Michael, and it seemed certain she would, then Phillip would know what they’d been up to, and so would Liz, not that she didn’t have her suspicions anyway.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said shortly.

Michael stepped into the room and shut the door, leaning against it.

“Don’t even bother to tell me. I saw,” Max muttered.

“She’s not going to tell Phillip,” Michael said, his voice sounding a bit amazed.

“What?” Max said, his head snapping up.

“She put everything together, and she said she’s not going to tell him,” Michael said.

“And you believe her?” Max asked in disbelief.

“Yeah…yeah, actually I do,” Michael said after a pause, nodding his head.

“Why? Why would she keep it from them?” Max asked, suspicious.

“Because she told me that stuff before she knew who I was,” Michael said. “She had no reason to think I had anything to do with this family. I think she told me the truth in California, Max. Or at least the truth as she knows it. She said she doesn’t want to cause any rifts between the family since Liz and Phillip are getting married.”

Max shook his head in disbelief.

“But the flashes…” Max argued

“Whatever you saw from Liz may have been in her past, one that Maria might know nothing about. But it might be just that Max, her past. Maybe we were wrong,” Michael began, shaking his head.

“I have to be sure Michael,” Max muttered.

“For Phillip’s sake, or your own?” Michael asked, with narrowed eyes.

******

“This is crazy!” Liz exclaimed. “This whole thing could blow up in my face, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t put Maria in any danger.”\

“She’s not in any danger,” Phillip said.

“She’s here. She’s near me. Anyone who I care about is in danger when they’re near me,” Liz said miserably.

“Is that why you can’t admit you are starting to have feelings for my son?” Phillip asked quietly.

“Don’t Phillip,” Liz warned, tears forming in her eyes. “I can’t believe you would try something like that.”

“And I can’t believe you won’t admit what I saw before I left,” Phillip answered. “Liz, you and I both know that neither of us feel the way we should about each other…”

“That was the whole point!” Liz said. “I wasn’t supposed to feel things for you! Phillip if you want to back out of this, then I’ll leave. I understand…”

Phillip shook his head.

“I promised you I would help you. If this is what you really want, I’ll go along with it. But if you have feelings for Max…” he began.

“It is what I want Phillip. I want to marry you. If this is going to become difficult, then I’ll leave. I’ve taken care of myself all of these years and I can do it again-“

Phillip silenced her but putting his finger to her lips.

“No,” he said, looking into her eyes. “We’ll do whatever you want. Just…tell me. Tell me the truth about Max. Tell me how you feel about him, and I’ll drop it for good.”

Liz sighed.

“Yes, I could easily fall for Max. Is that what you want to hear?” she asked, exasperated. “He’s overbearing and completely infuriating, but yes, I’m attracted to him. But Phillip, this whole situation is too complicated, and I can't take the chance. I couldn’t tell him the truth, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him because of me,” she said.

“Yet you want me to start a relationship with your son based on lies,” she said, incredulous.

“It wouldn’t be forever,” Phillip protested. “He would come around eventually.”

Liz shook her head in exasperation.

“You yourself said that I can’t tell him about David, and if I can’t tell him about that, then what’s the use? Whatever connection your family has to David, it would obviously ruin things between us, and it must be pretty bad if you’re keeping my connection to him from your own son,” she said.

“It’s not the right time to tell him,” Phillip insisted darkly. “Max wouldn’t understand, especially not now.”

“Then my decision is made,” Liz said, resolute. “I want to marry you. At least you’re going into it with your eyes opened.”

****

Liz knocked on Maria’s bedroom door after leaving Phillip in his room.

Despite her worry at her friend’s unexpected appearance at the house, she was infinitely glad to have a kindred spirit close by.

Maria opened the door with a grin.

“Get in here!” she said, pulling Liz into the room and shutting the door. She dragged Liz over to the bed, and they flopped onto it together, giggling.

“Maria, you shouldn’t be here, but I can’t lie. I’m so happy you are,” Liz sighed, as her friend propped her head on her hand.

“Yeah well, it sounds like it couldn’t be soon enough,” Maria said, rolling her eyes. “I think Michael bought it. He believes me.”

“You shouldn’t have come,” Liz scolded.

“What, and miss out on these digs?” Maria said, with a grin.

“I’m serious Maria. Phillip never should have asked you to come,” Liz said.

“I wanted to,” Maria said. “Do you have any idea what these past few years have been like, waiting for those random calls, wondering if you were still alive? At least I feel like I’m doing something!”

“But if they find out you’re here,” Liz protested.

“If Phillip can’t keep us safe, then I don’t know who can,” Maria said seriously.

“What about Michael?” Liz asked.

“He actually seems like a decent guy, believe it or not,” Maria said. “I actually feel sorry for him, losing his dad like he did.”

“Phillip never mentioned his father…” Liz said with a frown.

“He said it was in an accident, but I think whatever it was, it left him pretty broken up. I can read people like that,” Maria said.

“That must have been what Isabel was talking about. She said that someone betrayed the family, and because of it, they lost someone they loved,” Liz mused.

“Speaking of loved ones, how is your mom? My mother told me to make sure that everything is ok,” Maria said.

Liz’s eyes clouded.

“She’s…doing as well as can be expected. It’s just hard, you know seeing her the way she is. It’s different. Everything’s different,” Liz said.

“I know hon,” Maria said, her eyes softening in sympathy.

“What about your mom?” Liz asked.

“She’s doing great. She worries about you all the time, but you know that,” Maria said. “She wants to see you in the worst way.”

“Maybe someday, when it’s safe,” Liz said sadly.

“Well, if I can win Michael over to the dark side, then that’s a start,” Maria said with a sneaky grin.

“The dark side? That’s a funny way of putting it,” Liz muttered.

“Well…my side anyway. It’s too bad. He’s so my type,” Maria lamented.

“Maria, if I can give you one piece of advice, it’s not to get involved with anyone remotely related to the Evans family. It’ll bring you nothing but heartache,” Liz said.

Maria looked at her strangely.

“Something tells me you’re not talking about Phillip,” Maria said.

Liz looked away, and Maria shoved her arm.

“Spill it Liz. You know I won’t let up until you do,” she said.

Liz shook her head.

“It’s not worth talking about,” Liz muttered.

“Liz,” Maria said in a warning tone.

“Fine. I was talking about Max,” Liz said, rolling over.

“What about him,” Maria prompted.

“He’s bound and determined to find out the truth,” Liz said miserably.

“So? We already knew that,” Maria said.

Liz was silent a moment and then just blurted out the truth.

“That’s bad enough…but he kissed me the other night, and…I felt…I can’t-” she sputtered.

“You’re attracted to him. And he’s attracted to you. And he doesn’t trust you. And you’re marrying his father. Oh…way complicated,” Maria said, rolling over on her back.

“It’s worse than that. Phillip planned to leave us alone. He wants it to happen. But how could I possibly do that? How could I live a lie? I couldn’t…” Liz said.

“And you can’t tell him the truth,” Maria said.

Liz shook her head.

“I can’t risk Mom. I can’t take the chance. Phillip and Max had some connection to David, but Phillip won’t tell me what it was. But he said that if I tell Max, it would only make things worse,” Liz said.

“They have a connection to David?” Maria said, and Liz saw the fear in her friend’s eyes.

“Is that why Phillip’s helping you?”

“I don’t know. I can’t help but think it has something to do with it,” Liz said.

“Oh sweetie, this is one fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” Maria sighed.


TBC

A/N: I know! I mentioned that damned David again! Answers are coming soon, and I bet he isn't at all what you might be thinking.

Sorry I'm late posting. I just got back from an overnight in NYC. I went in to Radio City Music Hall to see Josh Grobin. My God, that boy has an amazing voice. I took my mother in for her birthday and the show was incredible. But enough of that.

Carol - Thanks for bumping.

efiLroFnaF - You cam out of lurkdom for this? I'm flattered!


Well, things are going to get very interesting from here on out.

Part 20

A week passed and Max was no closer to the truth than he was the day Phillip returned from his trip.

Michael had avoided coming to the house, and Max suspected he knew why.

He was afraid of running into Maria again.

After their discussion in Max's room that day, Michael seemed to take on finding out the truth as his personal cause.

He spent night and day scouring their databases looking for any clue to the truth behind Liz's past. He wondered if it was really a test of Maria's integrity for Michael. Max had heard the change in Michael on that tape as he listened to him talk to Maria in the restaurant.

Though Michael had chastised Max about his motives concerning Liz, Max had a sneaking suspicion that somehow, Maria had penetrated that thick wall that Michael had put up around him, and that scared him.

Two days ago, Michael had followed Liz on her visit to see her mother at the penitentiary. But nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Today would be the last time she would visit before the wedding, and still they ha no answers. Max sat in his office, waiting impatiently for Michael's call. There had to be something.

Isabel had been helping Liz to plan the small wedding, family only, of course. His sister had picked up Liz and Maria every morning except the days that Liz went to visit her mother. Most days, they were gone until long after the dinner hour.

Max had made a show of going to the office, but his heart wasn’t in work. When he did work, it was in trying to find the secret Liz hid behind her cautious eyes.

Unconsciously, he had established a routine over the past week. He remained in his room, catching a glimpse of Liz and Maria as the left the house with Isabel, and then he would go into the office. He never left later than five p.m. and found himself periodically looking out his window for her return.

But he hadn't spoken to her since the day that Phillip returned.

He missed it. He missed her scent, the way her eyes challenged his own, made him question his isolation.

But what was he to do with that? She didn't want him. She was hell-bent on marrying Phillip.

The phone ringing snapped him out of his reverie.

"Michael," he answered, without preamble. "Anything?"

"Nothing Max," Michael sighed. "Her visits are like clock-work. She goes in and comes out two hours later, give or take five minutes."

"I haven't been able to uncover anything else about Liz," he said in a low voice. "Maybe it's time that we give this up. There isn't much time left."

"That's not an option," Max answered, staring out the window at the city below.

***********

Liz returned to the house to find Isabel already waiting with Maria.

"Come on! Come on!" Isabel said excitedly. "Today is dress day."

Liz tried to smile, and caught Maria's sympathetic gaze.

"Great," Liz said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

On the way to the bridal salon, Isabel chatted incessantly about the plans, and Maria joined in, leaving Liz in the back seat, lost in her own thoughts.

She felt an odd sense of longing, for she hadn't seen Max in a week. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Oh, she knew he was around, for she saw his car in the carport, but she hadn't even caught a glimpse of him since that day.

Her days had been filled with visits to the area caterers and florists with Maria and Isabel. Phillip had chosen to let them handle the details, which thrilled Isabel to no end.

Most nights, she would sit in Phillip's room as he read over various documents, before she retired to her own room.

Phillip had told her that Max had been avoiding him too, and that upset her. She wondered if this marriage would be the ruination of the Evans family, in more ways than one.

"We're here," Isabel said excitedly from the front seat, and Liz looked at the storefront with a disconsolate sigh.

"Might as well get this over with," she sighed to herself.

As she got out of the car, Maria looped her arm through her friend's in silent support. She knew how hard this was going to be on Liz.

Liz shot her a grateful smile, and they entered the store behind Isabel.

Isabel immediately began to sort through the dresses, picking out a few for Liz to try on.

The sales woman carried them into the dressing room, and Maria followed Liz in to help.

As Liz took off her shirt and pants, Maria looked at her with a frown.

"Sweetie, you ok?" she asked in a low voice only she could hear.

Liz nodded, looking down at the floor.

Maria took one of the dresses off the hanger, and held it out for Liz to step into.

"Come on, I know something's up. Did something happen with your mother this morning?" she asked.

Liz closed her eyes to quell the tears forming there.

"She's gotten worse," Liz whispered. "It's like, I don't even recognize her anymore."

"Hon, you knew this was how she was going to be," Maria said.

"I know, but it's hard. It's just hard to see her like that," Liz said.

"I know," Maria whispered, smoothing her friend's hair in comfort. "But you're doing the best you can for her, right?"

Liz shrugged.

"I guess," she said. "But sometimes I feel like it's never going to be enough."

"It's enough," Maria whispered. "Believe me, it's enough."

"Hey, are you two coming out or what?" Isabel called from outside the dressing room.

"We'll be right out," Maria called to her.

"Come on, let's get this over with," Maria whispered, pulling the bodice up behind Liz.

Liz stared at herself as Maria closed the tiny buttons on the back of the dress.

Isabel certainly knew her clothes.

The dress she wore was slightly off the shoulder, the matte silk material sprinkled with the tiniest amount of crystals. With three-quarter sleeves and a fitted bodice and skirt, and a tasteful train bustled at her lower back, she looked like a princess.

"Oh my God," Maria whispered, looking at Liz's reflection in the mirror.

Liz felt tears spring to her eyes at her appearance.

The dress was lovely.

But in wearing it, she was propagating a lie, for she would wear it for Phillip, and in doing so would pledge her heart to him, but in the deepest recesses of her soul, she knew her heart belonged to another.

"I don't know if I can do this," Liz whispered, meeting her dearest friend's eyes in the mirror.

"It'll be all right, Liz. It's not like Phillip doesn't know the truth," Maria said, her eyes brimming with sympathy.

Liz shook her head.

"It's all a lie. My whole life has been based on a lie," she said. "I'm so tired, Maria."

Maria wrapped her arms around her friend's neck, pressing her cheek against Liz's.

"One more week and you can rest, Liz," she said.

"I'll never be able to rest," Liz muttered.

"Hello?" Isabel called impatiently from the store.

"Come on," Maria said, pulling away and opening the door.

She stepped out and Liz followed behind her, her head lowered.

She heard a gasp, and looked up to find Isabel staring at her with her hand pressed to her mouth.

"It's gorgeous!" she said. "You look absolutely amazing!"

"Thanks," Liz said, dropping the skirt to the floor.

"And it was the first one?" Isabel asked.

Liz nodded.

"You definitely know your dresses," she said.

Isabel smiled at the compliment.

"Liz," she said, pausing. "I just...I want to thank you for letting me help you with all of this."

Liz shook her head.

"No, I should be thanking you," she started.

Isabel shook her head.

:"You don't understand," she said. "I never got to do all of this with my wedding. Alex and I...well, we sort of had to sneak away, and I never had the chance to do any of this."

"Why?" Maria asked, confused.

A humorless smile crossed Isabel's face.

"Max and Michael weren't too happy that I was involved with Alex. We knew the only way that we could be married is if we eloped," she said.

"That's horrible!" Maria exclaimed. "Who are they to tell you..."

"You don't understand, Maria. My family isn't like normal families. It's just the way things were then," Isabel said in a low voice.

"I'd tell them to take a long walk off a short pier," Maria muttered. She couldn't reconcile the Michael that Isabel described with the one she met in California.

Isabel laughed.

"It's all ok now. They've accepted Alex now. It was just...hard in the beginning. But anyway, I'm just happy I can be a part of this," Isabel said.

"My mother wasn't alive for my wedding," she said softly. "And I had no one to share it with. I'm happy that I can share this with you."

"Me too," Liz said, smiling at Isabel. And she truly was happy, if it made Isabel happy. At least the marriage was pleasing one member of the Evans clan.

She thought about Diane Evans, the love of Phillip's life, and she felt sadness. She wouldn't have blamed Isabel if she resented her. But somehow she didn't, and the thought that she was making her happy made the lie a little more bearable.

*******

Max sat in the sitting room later that night, staring into the fire that Charlotte had built in the fireplace.

Liz and Maria had gone with Phillip to Isabel's house for dinner.

Charlotte had relayed the invitation, but Max had begged off, not feeling as if he would be able to sit in a room with Phillip and Liz.

He knew Michael too had declined, and he only guessed at his reason.

Uncharacteristic rain beat against the windows, but he barely noticed it.

He wondered how he had gotten into this position. In the matter of a few weeks, his entire world had been turned upside down by the mere presence of a young woman in his home.

The thought of the impending wedding filled him with dread. Three days until she was legally bound to Phillip.

He realized that despite his misgivings about Liz, his feelings for her had almost overpowered all of that.

The thought of what he was going to do almost made him ill. But he had to know, and he had to know before the wedding took place, for her safety as much as his father's. It would probably destroy the tenuous understanding he and Liz had between them, but if it meant he could protect them, even if she hated him for it, then so be it. He had to know the truth.

The sound of the front door opening drew his eyes to the hallway.

She paused at the staircase with a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. She looked so...defeated. His heart twisted painfully at the burden she wouldn't share with anyone.

Her head turned to the sitting room, and she spotted him.

"Max," she said in a low voice.

He just stared at her, noting the deep circles under her eyes and the weariness that etched her features.

She stepped into the room, standing near the doorway.

"Where are Phillip and Maria?" Max asked tonelessly.

"I...wasn't feeling well. I came back early. M...Manuel drove me home. They should be back later," she said.

"Prenuptial jitters?" he offered, sarcasm lacing his voice.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

"Max, please don’t...." she said wearily, leaning against the wall.

"Give me a reason not to, he quipped, rising from the chair and walking across the room to stand before her.

"Tell me your happy Liz. Look me in the eye and tell me this is what you really want. Because when I look at you, I don't see the glowing bride-to-be. I see resignation," he said, lifting his fingers to trace her cheek.

Her eyes fell closed, her head turning into his palm for an instant. And then she reached up and took his fingers away with her own.

"Tell me the truth, and I can help you," he said almost desperately.

She avoided his eyes as she spoke.

"I have nothing to say," she whispered.

He knew she had feelings for him, and still she was lying.

The thought of that infuriated him, and hurt him more than he cared to admit. He couldn't put it off any longer.

"Liz, I know more than you think," he said angrily.

"What are you talking about Max," she said dully, stepping away from him.

"I know your mother is in prison. I know that she's looking for money," he said. "I know you've been visiting her twice a week."

A look of resignation filled her face, before she quickly masked it with feigned shock.

What was going on here?

"I don't know what to say, Max," she stammered. "Phillip didn't want you to know..."

And in an instant, the truth hit him.

"My father knows," he said incredulously.

She lifted her chin in a defiant tilt.

"Yes," she said, her eyes meeting his.

"He's paying her money," Max said.

"Yes," she answered.

'Because he loves you," he continued, pain slicing through his heart. She was betraying Phillip too.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Do you love him? Do you really love him?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence before she answered.

"Yes," she said with finality.

"What happened to you in your past Liz? Why does your mother have so much power over you?" he asked.

He needed to know.

"There were people my mother knew. People who wanted to hurt the two of us, because of something my mother did. They did...terrible things that I don't ever want to think about again. I ran from those things for a long time. Your father was the first one who made me feel that I didn't have to run anymore. He's...helped me more than I can ever explain," she said.

"My mother's...changed. I love her but...she's different now, after everything she's been through. Phillip had her transferred here, and he's been giving her money to keep quiet, to keep the truth...from you," she said. "He wants to protect me Max, and...he trusts me, and I needed that so much."

She turned her tear-filled eyes from him.

He knew she was lying. Her mother's reference to "playing with the big boys" didn't jive with what she was telling him. After everything, she was still lying to him, and to his father.

"Liz, tell me what happened to you, what happened to both of you back then," he said.

She was about to answer him, when her phone rang.

She looked at the screen.

"Excuse me, I have to take this," she said quickly, as she picked it up.

Max watched her face grow pale, and her lips tighten. Fear crept into her eyes as she listened to the person on the other end.

"I'll be right there," she said, ending the call.

"Max, I want to finish this conversation, but...there's a...a...problem with my dress. I have to go. We'll finish this later," she said, backing away.

"Liz," he said, taking a step toward her.

"I have to go," she said in a frantic, almost panicked voice, turning and rushing for the door.

Max only paused an instant before he decided to go after her. Whatever she was doing had nothing to do with a dress.

He ran to the kitchen to grab his keys and rushed out the front door, and saw the taillights of her car disappearing down the driveway amidst the teeming rain.

He jumped into his car and revved the engine, taking off after her.

The dryness of the ground and the pavement had flooded the roads, yet still she drove at breakneck speed.

Max gritted his teeth as he kept a distance, following her suicidal pace.

She was heading toward the prison.

Preparing himself to confront her when she reached it, he felt his ire grow at the whole desperate situation.

And then the prison came into view, and she passed it by.

What the hell was she up to?

His confusion grew when she made a right about a half-mile down the road.

Five minutes later, she pulled into a parking lot. He stopped the car and turned off his lights, looking at the sign.

Perpetual Care Assisted Living.

He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he damned well was going to find out.

Liz jumped out of the car and ran inside, and he rushed after her.

He edged into the doorway, and walked into chaos.

There was a commotion in the hall, and Liz was running toward it. He followed, ducking into a nearby doorway to watch.

She spoke with one of the orderlies, and went to a closed door.

"Mom, open up," she said in a low voice. "Please...it's Lizzie, open the door."

Max felt the breath rush out of his lungs.

Her mother?

"They're coming!" a woman shouted from behind the door.

"I'll protect you, you know that. Now open the door, please," Liz pleaded.

Slowly, the door opens and a woman stuck her head out. A frail redhead, she looked older than her years.

"Lizzie?" she said in confusion, almost child-like.

"Yes, it's me," Liz said and tears fill her eyes.

"Oh Lizzie," the woman cried and wrapped her arms around Liz in relief.

Max swallowed against the lump in his throat as he watched.

"The men are here," The woman said, pulling away in sudden panic.

"They're going to take me away because I know about the aliens," she whispered.

Max grabbed the doorjamb, shock running through his body.

Liz smoothed the woman's hair from her face," looking confused.

"Mom, there are no aliens. No one is going to take you away," she answered. "I promise."

"No, Lizzie, we have to get away! They're here! They're going to come for us! They’re going to take me and lock me up forever, because of David, because of what I’ve seen!" she cried.

"Do you know what she’s talking about?" the orderly asked Liz.

"Get him away from me!" the woman cried in panic.

Liz shook her head at the orderly, worry etched on her face.

"I’ve never heard her talk like this before. I think she’s getting worse," Liz said.

The woman grabbed her hand with wide eyes.

"We have to go now!" the woman said, frantic, pulling Liz toward the entrance.

Max ducked into the room.

"No, no, we have to stay here. Here is safe, Mom," he heard her say gently.

The woman started to get agitated and howled as Liz tried to get her back to her room.

The orderly gave the woman a sedative injection, and Liz followed the orderlies into the room as they tried to calm her.

As soon as Liz is out of sight, Max slipped back out the front door.

He went back out to the car to wait, still in shock, trying to process what he'd seen.

Who was that woman?

She mentioned aliens. That worried him more than anything. But Liz didn’t seem to know what she was talking about. Maybe it was the crazy ramblings of a sick woman, but something about the way she said it scared him.

It was 15 minutes before Liz came out. Max watched her walk to her car, shoulders slumped.

He needed to talk to her, and he needed to do it as soon as she got back to the house.

She got into the car and started it.

Max was ready to follow her, but before he evens tared the engine, he saw another car immediately start up, tearing off after Liz.

Someone had been waiting for her.

Max started his own car and took off after them, dread filling his heart.

As soon as the two cars came into view, he knew that Liz was in trouble. The dark sedan that left after her was on her back bumper, trying to make her lose control of her car.

She gunned the engine further and pulled away, only to be overtaken again within seconds.

Max felt a dark and a paralyzing terror for her. They were going to kill her.

Without a further thought, he rolled down the window and shoved his hand out, directing his alien energy at the car in front of him, intending for it to push the car off the road.

But just as he did, the car pulled alongside the back of Liz's car.

The energy shoved the sedan to the right, pushing both of the cars off the road and into an easement ditch.

"Liz!" he shouted, veering his car off the road.

He threw the car into park and jumped out into the rain, running to Liz's car, almost afraid of what he would find, his heart is frozen in fear that she might be dead.

But as he approached he heard terrified howls coming from within the car. He yanked open the door, finding her trying to get out of the belt, sobbing.

"Liz! Liz! Are you all right?" he asked frantically, but she pushed past him, stumbling to the other car.

She looked in the car and her knees gave out with a cry of desperation.

Max caught her before she hit the ground, pulling her into his arms.

"Tell me what's going on," Max said, looking into the cabin of the sedan and seeing a familiar face, a face he'd seen in Liz's memories.

Carlo.

"They’ve got my mother!" she sobbed, pulling away from him. "She was right, and I didn't listen! The bastard told me to leave, that I would make it worse. They took her! Oh my God!"

"Liz, you’re not making any sense," Max said, trying to calm her.

"You don't understand anything!" she cried, panicked. "We have to get out of here. Take me back to the nursing home!

"Which one of those women is your mother Liz?" Max asked, angrily.

"Just take me back," Liz pleaded, her eyes begging him with terrorized desperation.

"Liz, listen to me. Listen to yourself! We can’t go back there. It’s not safe. If they’ve taken the woman, she’s gone already. They may be waiting for you," Max said, cupping her face with his palms, trying to calm her down.

"We’ll figure this out, I need to know everything. I heard what the woman who was supposedly your mother said in the prison, and I need to know what they're dealing with," he said.

She shook her head frantically, hiccuping sobs wrenching from her throat.

"Look, Liz, I know you're lying to me! I'll tell you what I know, but you have to tell me the truth if I'm going to help you! The woman in the prison, she's counting on the money, but she says you're playing with the "big boys" and that you're getting yourself in to deep. She said it would get you killed," he said.

Liz's face went ghostly white, the rain streaming down her face.

"What?" she whispered.

"No. God, she gave us to them on a silver platter!" she cried, backing away from him, pushing her fingers through her wet hair.

"Liz, tell me what's going on!" he seethed, frustrated.

"Just get me to the house!" she said over her shoulder, running back toward his car.

He followed her, jumping into the driver's seat, the car jumping when his foot fell against the gas pedal.

She held her head cradled in her hands, and he saw her fingers shaking, as she rocked forward and back.

"You owe me an explanation," he said, glancing at her angrily.

"I don't owe you anything Max!" she cried, her voice muffled behind her hair which had fallen in a curtain around her head.

"I can help you," he answered.

"No you can't. No one can help me," she said with a sob.

"Liz," he started.

"Look," she said fiercely, turning fiery eyes on him. "If you want to help, then just get this thing back to the house!"

Max pulled into the driveway, and she didn't wait for the car to stop before she opened the door and jumped out.

"Liz!" he shouted after her.

Max jumped out after her and caught up with her in the foyer, catching her arm in a fierce grip.

"Let me go!" she cried, furious, trying to wrench her from his grasp.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," he said angrily.

She turned toward him in a rage.

"You heard it all! What more is there to know? You want to know what's going on? Fine! I was trying to steal money from your father! Those people were powerful men that were helping me to do it. It was all a big plan to rob you blind and ruin your reputation! Now just leave me alone!" she said, wrestling her arms from his fingers, running up the stairs.

"Max, what's going on?" Phillip asked, coming out from the kitchen.

"Why don't you tell me, because I have no fucking clue what just happened! Liz gets a call and takes off, and I followed her. She goes rushing to some nursing home, and there's a strange woman there, that I think Liz is now saying is her mother. So that leaves the question of who that woman is sitting in NMWC. Two guys tried to run her off the road, and she's babbling that someone took her mother, the woman in the nursing home," Max said, furious.

Phillip's face went white.

"Where are the two men?" he said in a stricken voice.

"They're dead," Max said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "One of them was Carlo."

"Look, a few weeks back, I got these flashes from her," Max snapped.

"Flashes?" Phillip said, his brow raised in shock. Max ignored it.

"I know one of them was some guy named Carlo. Who the hell is he? Someone had better start explaining things to me here, because now it's all of our lives," Max grated.

"How did they find her?" Phillip whispered.

"How did WHO find her?" Max yelled. "I was at the prison. I heard that woman who was supposedly her mother say that her daughter was in touch with important people, and that she was going to be set up for life!"

He notices that Phillip doesn't look surprised, just dismayed.

"Max...." Phillip began, shaking his head.

"You knew about all of this," Max said in accusation, "but you didn't know it all, did you? Perhaps Liz should have paid that woman in prison to keep her mouth shut, because she was singing like a bird! She could have been talking to the FBI, and you didn't even know it! They'll eliminate her when she's outlived her usefulness. And now they're not only coming after her, but they're going to come after us too."

"Max, there's a lot you don't know," Phillip said.

"Then explain it to me, because we're running out of time," Max retorted, looking up the staircase.

"Do you care for her?" Phillip asked quietly.

Max looked at him in dismayed astonishment.

"What kind of asinine question is that? You're marrying her!" he said defensively.

"But I don't love her, not like I think you could. Do you think you could? Could you love a human, and love her enough to face a truth that tests everything you believe, everything you are so afraid of? Because there is no halfway with Liz," Phillip said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Max exclaimed, but his father turned and walked into the library.

"If you want to know, then you'd better come with me," Phillip said.

Max looked after his father in hesitation, and then followed him into the library.