As Michelle laid partially trapped inside the confines of Justin's warm embrace, a heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she glanced out the large set of patio doors that overlooked his property.  The clear blue sky instantly giving her a false sense of security telling her that the world was a beautiful place to live in.  Unfortunately, she knew better than to believe in such fairytales.  The world was cruel, and harsh.  And dealing with those who had come in to her life during her short time in Los Angeles only further proved to her that she no longer wanted to call this place home.

Turning to face Justin, Michelle slowly removed his left arm from around her waist and gently placed in back down on the bed in between them.  Once she had safely maneuvered herself out of his hold, she wrapped her arm as securely as she could around her ribs, and slowly pushed herself in to a standing position.  After letting out a few whimpers of pain, she straightened her frame and headed towards the door.  The only thing concerning her at this point in time was getting as far away from Justin as possible.

As she made her way over to the door, she let out a sigh of frustration and knew that disappearing from Casa Timberlake was going to be harder than she thought.  Especially when she heard the sound of Trace's voice getting louder as he headed down the hall in her direction.  Once she realized however that he may actually be able to help her, she knew that she should head out in to the hall.

Grabbing a hold of the door handle, Michelle quietly gave it a turn and pulled it open.  The startled look on Trace's face almost matching hers as he stood there about to knock.

"Hey."

"Hey Trace."  Michelle replied, quietly stepping out of the room so she could shut the door.

"Is J still sleeping?"

"Yeah.  We should probably just let him sleep.  I'm sure he's tired."

"Yeah, you're probably right."  Trace said, trying as best he could to not be obvious as his eyes scanned over the numerous marks on her arms.  "So uhhh....you hungry?  I can make you something to eat."

"No, I'm not really hungry Trace, but thanks for offering."

Noticing that her gaze seemed to be focused on the large staircase off to their right, Trace tilted his head to the side and began studying the wave of emotions that seemed to be consuming her features.  Not liking what he was seeing, Trace stepped in to her line of sight.

"Are you alright?"

Breaking out of the trance she had momentarily slipped in to, Michelle smiled and hoped that it would reassure him that she was fine, despite the fact that she was anything but.

"Yeah.  Look, I knew that coming here was a bad idea last night, and all I really want to do is go home.  Can you take me home?  Please?"

Seeing the look of desperation in Michelle's eyes, Trace let out a heavy sigh and glanced back over to Justin's bedroom door.

"I really don't think that's a good idea.  I mean, I know things were a little rough last night with Justin, but I think the stress of everything just got to him.  It's not going to be like that if you stay.  You know that, right?"

"This isn't about Justin though Trace.  Seriously.....I just need to be by myself.  I mean, I can't even tell you when the last time was that I slept in my own bed...or made decisions for myself.  I've been forced to follow everyone's rules but my own, and I want it to stop.  I want to live my life the way I want to live it, and I want to know that I'm free to do so.  I don't want to feel like I'm a prisoner to my own life.  Can't you understand that?"  she said, a look of despair washing over her.  "Please.  Just take me home."

After standing there for a few moments, toiling back and forth over the predictament she had presented to him, Trace stuck his hand in his front pocket and reluctantly pulled out his keys.

"Are you sure this is really what you want to do?"

"Yes."

"Alright then.  Come on.  I'll take you home."

After helping Michelle down the stairs, Trace headed across the livingroom and over towards the foyer.  The mere fact that he was doing something Justin would undoubtedly protest to, causing his stomach to twist in to knots.

"Do you have everything you need?"  he asked, unlocking the front door and pulling it open.

"Actually....no.  But we can take care of that on the way."  she said, walking past him and out the door.

After disengaging the alarm on his truck, Trace opened the passenger side door and helped her in.  Once he made sure she was safely inside, he closed the door and headed around to the drivers side.

"So, care to tell me what it is that we are going to take care of?" Trace asked, as he closed the door and started the ignition.

"I just need to pick up a few things."

Assuming she meant something from the store or pharmacy, Trace nodded his head and headed down the driveway.   With only the radio to keep the silence between them from becoming unbearable, Michelle began to think long and hard about what it was she was about to do.  Could she really just take two members of the LAPD on to Chris' property and get her car and belongings back?  And what if she did manage to pull it off?  Would there be any reprocussions?  If so, what would they be?

Knowing that she would more than likely back down from her plan if she put too much thought in to it, Michelle let out a heavy sigh and turned to face Trace.  The moment of truth, suddenly upon her.

"Trace, do you have your phone with you?"

"Yeah why?  Is something wrong?"  he asked, a slight wave of panic washing over him.

"No.  I'm fine.  I just need to make a phone call real quick."

Not wanting to get in to her personal business, Trace simply pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it over to her as he continued to drive.

After flipping the phone open, Michelle dialed the number for directory assistance and leaned her head back against the seat.  Once the automated system picked up the call, Michelle requested the number for the Los Angeles police department and turned to face Trace.

"I need you to take me to get my car back Trace."  she said, waiting for the system to inform her of the number.

Knowing more than likely that this trip back to Michelle's apartment wasn't at all what he thought, Trace began laughing.  His voice of reason, immeadiately telling him to turn the truck around and head back to Justin's.

After getting the number that she needed, Michelle glanced out the window and punched it in to Trace's phone.  Before she hit the send button however, she turned back to Trace with a look of remorse.

"So this was your plan all along?  For me to take you to get your car?"

"It's not like I don't want to go home Trace.  I do!  But I need to get my car back.  And my purse.....and my phone."

"And where is this stuff at?"  Trace asked, the tone of his voice slightly laced with anger as he turned to face her.

"It's at Chris' house."

Dropping his head back against the seat, Trace let out a breathy laugh and just shook his head.  To say he was at a loss for words would be an understatement.  This was obviously a setup, and it had bad news written all over it.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't want to get you involved in this, but I knew that Justin wouldn't take me there to get it." 

"And don't you think that was for a good reason?!"

"So again, I'm just supposed to do what everyone else wants?!"

"I'm not saying you have to do what everyone else wants, but from what I've heard, this guy is nothing short of psychotic!"  Trace yelled, quickly glancing back and forth between her and the road.  "I mean, did you even stop to think how dangerous this could be?!"

"Yes, and that's why I'm getting a police escort."

"I just.....I can't believe you dragged me in to this."

"I said I'm sorry.  What else do you want me to do?"

"Nothing.  Just.........forget it."

Now wanting to get things over with as quick as possible, Michelle pressed the send button and placed the phone to her ear.  After a few rings, an officer with the LAPD answered the call and she proceeded to tell them of her situation.  Once they took down all of her information and informed her that they could send someone over to his residence to meet her, Michelle hung up the phone and handed it back to Trace.

"He said they had a patrol car in the area that could assist me.  All we have to do is go to his house and wait for them to get there if they aren't there when we arrive."

"And then what?"

"Then I'll go in there, get my stuff and leave.  All I need you to do is wait here with me until they show up."

Shaking his head with utter disbelief, Trace shoved his phone back in to his pocket and then turned to face her. 

"So you know where this piece of shit lives?"

"Yeah."

After proceeding to tell him how to get to Chris' house, Michelle once again leaned her head back against the seat.  Her mind quickly filling with every possible thing that could go wrong.  With her nerves now getting the best of her, Michelle began to get restless.

"Just so you know, I don't think this is a good idea by any stretch of the imagination, but if it's really what you want to do, then I'm at least going to go up there with you."

"Trace you don't have to do that."

"It's either that, or we can turn around and head back to Justin's right now.  You make the call."

Knowing that going back to Justin's wasn't an option, Michelle let out a sigh of frustration.

"You know what....fine.  Just promise me that you won't do or say anything to him.  I just want to get in and out of there as quick as possible.  Alright?"

Nodding his head that he understood her request, Trace continued on with the direction she had given him, and within ten minutes they were turning on to Chris' street.  Spotting the two police cars already parked outside his residence, Michelle simply swallowed the large lump that had formed in the back of her throat and pointed them out to Trace.

"Right there............on the left." she said, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke.

After making sure that there was no oncoming traffic, Trace pulled in behind the two officers and turned his truck off.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No, but then I really don't have a choice.  I need to get my stuff back."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Trace stepped out of his truck and headed around to the passenger side door to help Michelle out.  As he did, the two officers exited their cars and headed back to meet them.

"If at any time you want to call this off, just tell me."  Trace said, leaning in towards her.

After closing her door, Trace extended his hand to the first officer that approached them and shook his hand.

"I'm sure you guys have better things to do with your time, so I want to thank for coming out.  My name is Trace, and this is Michelle."  Trace said, motioning to towards her.

"Sergeant Deitrick, and this is Officer Rushcak."  he replied, shaking Trace's hand and stepping slightly to the side so that they could finish their pleasantries.  "So, I understand that it's your stuff that needs to be removed from the residence?"

Nodding her head, Michelle glanced up the long driveway that led to the house and took a deep breath.  Her heart literally feeling like it was going to jump out of her chest.

"Alright, let's go."

After watching both police officers head up towards the house, Trace let took a deep breath and extended his arm to Michelle.  Once she had grabbed a hold, Trace followed behind the two officers, occassionally casting a glance in her direction to make sure she wasn't having a change of heart.

When they had finally reached Chris' door, one of the officers knocked loudly and took a step back to survery their surroundings.

"You have a vehicle here as well?"

"Yeah, I think he has it in his garage."  she replied, her small frame literally trembling against Trace's side as she nervously darted her keys back and forth between the front door and garage.

Then just when the officer was about to knock again, Michelle heard the sound of the door unlocking and took a small step behind Trace.  The fear that instantly grabbed a hold of her causing her grip on Trace's arm to tighten that much tighter.

Once the door finally opened, Michelle saw Chris standing in the doorway, a look of confusion clearly plastered across his face.

"Can I help you?"

"We're told you are currently in posession of several items belonging to this this young lady, and she requested our assistance in getting them back.  Do you have any objections to us entering your residence so that she can safely retrieve them?"  Officer Ruschak asked, motioning for Michelle to step forward.

"So that's why you're here?  To ensure that she safely walks out of here with her stuff?"  Chris asked, his eyes instantly locking on to Michelle the second she stepped out from behind Trace.

"Sir, do you have a problem with us entering your residence?"

After taking a few moments to survey the small crowd of people that were gathered outside his door, Chris realized Michelle wasn't alone and quickly spoke up.

"If she wants to come inside and get her things, then that's fine.  That guy on the other hand, isn't stepping foot in my house."  Chris growled, as he pointed at Trace.  "Actually, he has no reason to even be on my property!"

Not wanting to deal with any unneccessary commotion, Sergeant Deitrick motioned for his fellow officer to escort Trace back down to the vehicles.

"And you better keep an eye on him too!  I don't want him stepping foot on this property again, or you'll be arresting him for tresspassing!"

Hearing Chris raise his voice like she had heard so many times before, Michelle's eyes welled up with tears and she took another slight step backwards.  The courage that she thought she possessed, suddenly nowhere to be found as he locked eyes with her once again.

"May we enter the residence now?"  the Sergeant asked, his patience appearing to grow thin as Chris still stood firmly in the doorway.

Not bothering to humor either of them with a response, Chris pushed the heavy wooden door open and took a step back so that they could enter.  After they were both inside, Chris closed the door behind them and motioned for Michelle to go about her business.  The expression on his face doing very little to hide the fact that he wanted to approach her.

"You're going to stay here, right?"  Michelle asked the officer, not bothering to even look in Chris' direction.

"I'll be right here."

After making sure that she would be ascending the stairs by herself, Michelle wrapped her arm around her waist and proceeded to head across the livingroom.  Once she had reached the top of the stairs, Michelle disappeared down the hall and Chris turned to face the police officer who was still standing beside him.

"Thanks for the phone call man."  Chris said, glancing towards the stairs.  "I was just about to head out when you called." 

"No problem."  he said, adjusting his gun belt as he headed across the foyer.  "Everything is good here though, right?  I mean, you said you just wanted to talk to the girl."

"Yeah, don't worry.  I can honestly say that this time, nothing is going to go down."  Chris laughed, as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

"Good, because if she doesn't walk out of here looking the same way she did when she walked in, we're going to have a problem.  Just so you know."

"I'm not going to hurt the girl Frank.  I just want to talk to her....alone....uninterrupted."

"That's fine.  As long as you understand where we stand, then by all means, go talk to her."  he replied, motioning towards the stairs. 

Taking that as his cue, Chris exhaled deeply and proceeded to head up the stairs.  The uncertaintity of what was about to take place weighing heavily on his heart.

Chapter 182

As Michelle proceeded to head down the hall towards the guestroom, she spotted the broken door that led to Chris' room and stopped.  Her curiosity quickly getting the best of her as she cautiously stepped over the splintered fragments of wood to walk inside.  Studying her surroundings, Michelle wondered what exactly had gone down in there since she had left, and why it hadn't been cleaned up yet.  Sure, she had only known Chris for a short amount of time, but if there was one thing she knew about him, other than the fact that he was frighteningly dangerous, was that he was meticulously clean. 

Unable to give rhyme or reason as to why she continued to survey the room, Michelle just stood there in a state of confusion.  Her mind instantly flashing through the times she had spent with Chris in his house, in his room......in his bed.  What was it about it all that had her so captivated?  Why did she even care?

After shaking her head with complete disbelief, Michelle let out a heavy sigh and turned around to walk back out the door.  Unfortunately when she did, she realized that she was no longer in the room by herself and began to panic.  Standing just inside the door way was a very nervous looking Chris.

"Chris....what are you......where's Sergeant Deitrick?!"  Michelle asked, nervously tripping over her words as she began backing up. 

Standing there, unsure of what he should say or where to even start, Chris suddenly realized that Michelle was headed straight for the dresser. A dresser that now held precariously positioned pieces of the mirror he had destroyed the night before.  Knowing that she wouldn't stop if he told her too, and that she was only seconds away from receiving yet another serious injury because of his recklessness, Chris ran forward and grabbed a hold of her, quickly turning her to the right and away from the dresser.  Not realizing what he had just saved her from, Michelle quickly pushed herself out of his hold and let out a slight cry of pain.

"Get off of me!"  she yelled, once again wrapping her arm around her ribs.

"Michelle wait....."

"No, don't touch me Chris!"

"But...."  Chris said, once again taking a few steps forward.

Feeling that this was going to turn in to yet another battle for her life, Michelle placed her hands out firmly in front of her and shoved Chris backwards.  The only thing she was concerned about was keeping him as far away from her as possible.

As Chris lost his balanced and staggered backwards, he remembered the shards of glass and quickly tried to turn his body away from his dresser.  Unfortunately his efforts did little to save himself from the damage and one of the larger pieces of glass that were hanging over the edge ripped through the side of arm.

"Shit."  Chris growled, his hand instantly clasping over the large gash as he looked up at her. 

"Chris....I'm sorry.  I didn't...I didn't mean to....I just....."  Michelle stuttered, the fear evident in her voice as she once again began backing up. 

"You know, I don't often do the right thing by people, so gratitude isn't something I'm used to receiving.  But even so, I'm pretty sure that this wasn't quite the 'thank you' I was looking for."  he continued, lifting his hand away from the cut to examine it. 

Unsure of what to do, Michelle once again repeated the only three words that came to mind.

"Chris, I'm sorry."

"Well then, I guess that makes two of us." he said, offering her a slight smile before turning around to walk across the room.  "But hey, at least it was me and not you, right?" 

As Michelle stood there like a deer caught in headlights, trying to make sense out of why he was acting the way he was, she saw Chris push the broken pieces of the mirror to the back of the dresser, and then proceed to head in to his bathroom.  Once he was out of sight, Michelle let out a sigh of relief and glanced back over at the dresser.  Chris' comment and behavior suddenly begging for some sort of explaination.

"At least it was him...and not me?"  Michelle asked herself out loud. 

Realizing at least for the time being that Chris had no intention of harming her, Michelle leaned forward and glanced in to Chris' bathroom.  Her curiosity about his injury quickly getting the best of her as she began slowly heading across the room.  Once she got to within a few feet of the door, she saw Chris struggling to grab some things from his cabinet and just shook her head in disbelief.  He was right.  She did have a tendency to do things that weren't always in her best interest, and here she was, about to go down that path once more.  Why couldn't she just leave well enough alone?  What God forsaken character flaw did she possess that kept pulling her into these situations?

"Do you need some help?" she finally asked, the question sounding just as ridiculous coming out of her mouth, as it did when she heard it in her head.

Hearing the sound of Michelle's voice, Chris turned around and saw her standing just outside the door.  A look of uncertainty plastered across her face.

"You want to help me?"  Chris asked, a slight chuckle escaping his mouth as he headed back over to a large cabinet along the far wall.  "Is that some kind of joke?" 

"Well....I mean...I'm kind of the one responsible for.....that."  she said, motioning to his blood soaked sleeve.  "And honestly....it looks like you could use the help."

After standing there for a few seconds, Chris grabbed a few more things out of the cabinet and headed back to the other side of the room.  Once he had placed the items down on the sink, a mischievious smile spread across his lips and he headed over to her.

"You're serious?  You really want to help me?" 

Too nervous to even speak, Michelle just rapidly nodded her head.  She did want to help him, she just didn't know why. 

"Wow.  You really need to start making better decisions for yourself, you know that right?"  he asked, taking a step to the side so that she could enter the bathroom.  "Because if I were you, I would have been out of here the second I turned my back.  This is just another case of poor judgement on your part I'm afraid."

Worried that he was hinting at something sinister, Michelle began backing out of the bathroom.

"Michelle, stop. I'm just playing around." he said, grabbing a hold of her arm to keep her in place.  "Well, not about the fact that you need to start making better decisions, but I'm not going to do anything to you, if that's what you're worried about."

After slipping her arm out of his grasp, Michelle cautiously walked around him and over to the sink.  Once she had made mental note of the things he had already removed from his cabinet, she cleared her throat and glanced up at him.

"Can you take it off so I can see it?"

"Gladly."  Chris smiled, as he quickly began to try and unfasten his belt.

"That's not what I meant!"  Michelle screamed, her face instantly turning a bright shade of red as she looked the other way.

"Are you sure?  Because I'd be more than happy...."

"YES!  I'M SURE!"  she quickly interrupted.  "I meant your shirt."

Letting out a slight chuckle, Chris refastened his belt and proceeded to try and work on the buttons of his shirt.   Unfortunately after a few seconds with no obvious progress, Michelle let out a heavy sigh and walked over to him.  Clearly things would go a lot faster if she just helped him. 

"Here, let me do it." Michelle said, grabbing a hold of Chris' hand and pushing it down. 

After allowing his arm to fall back to his side, Chris looked down and just stared at her hands as they meticulously began to unfasten the buttons.  His mind now racing as fast as his heart.  Could he really do this?  Could he just push all his fears aside and simply tell her that he had feelings for her.  That he liked having her around?   Looking up at her once again, he slowly came to the realization that he wasn't ready.  The uncertainty of how she would react proving to be too much of a risk, even for him. 

"There."  she said, finishing the last button and backing away from him so he could remove his shirt.

Not wanting to rush this little adventure anymore than he had to, Chris just continued to stand there. The only thing he could focus on at the moment was how much he wanted her. 

"Well?  What are you waiting for.  Take it off."

"You mean you aren't going to help me with this too?"  he asked, his voice suddenly dropping a whole octave as he continued to stare at her.

Rolling her eyes with disbelief, Michelle walked back over to where Chris was standing and grabbed a hold of his shirt, pulling it back down over his shoulders.  After a few more tugs, Michelle aggressively yanked the shirt down his arms and tossed it on the floor beside him.

"There.  Happy?"

As Chris stood there in a state of shock, Michelle saw the trail of blood running down his arm, and quickly reached over to the sink to grab a wash cloth. 

"Shit!  I forgot. I'm so sorry."  she said, quickly applying pressure to the cut.  "Are you alright?"

Not bothering to answer her question, Chris let out a heavy sigh and just stared at her. He knew he needed to turn this conversation around, but getting there was proving to be a lot harder than he anticipated.  Unfortunately, with time quickly running out on the only opportunity he had to talk to her alone, he knew he had no other choice and glanced down at her once again. 

"Are you?"  Chris asked, the softness of his voice laced with concern. 

Unsure of exactly what he meant, Michelle glanced up at him.  Her eyes locking on to his as he looked down at her.

"Am I what?"

"Are you alright?"  Chris asked again, forcing down the lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him.  "I mean, after that mess at the club.....and then......after what happened back here......what I did to you.......I just........I just want to know if you're ok."

"I'm fine Chris."  she answered, quickly adverting her attention back to his cut. 

"You don't look fine."

"Thanks for the compliment."  she replied, quickly trying to change the tone of the conversation.

"Michelle, that's not what I meant." he said, exhaling deeply as his frustration began to take hold once again.  "Look..."

"I'm fine Chris!  I don't care if you believe me or not."  she interrupted, quickly grabbing a few pieces of gauze from a box on the sink. "I'm not here to prove anything to you."

"Then why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here.  I came to get my stuff."

"Yeah, that's what you said when you got here, but for some reason your stuff is still in the guestroom and you're standing in here with me.  Why is that?"

"You want me to go get my stuff Chris?!  Fine!  I'll get my stuff!  You can finish this up yourself!"  she yelled, quickly tossing the roll of tape in to the sink.  "I don't even know why I bothered to help you!" 

"Michelle wait!"

After storming out of the bathroom, Michelle made quick work of heading out the door and down the hall to the guestroom.  Unfortunately for her, Chris was right on her heels, and he wasn't about to let up.

"All I want you to do is answer the question!  Why is that so hard?  Why can't you just answer me?"

"Leave me alone Chris.  I just want to get my things and go."

"Then answer the question.  What are you here?  Why did you offer to help me?"

"I DON'T KNOW WHY!"  she yelled, quickly turning around to face him.  "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

"GOD!  I WISH I COULD!"  he yelled, his frustration now reaching it's peak as he began pacing around the room.  "I wish I could just hand you all your stuff and tell you to get the hell out of my house, but I can't!  And I can't stand here in front of you anymore and act like I don't give a shit about you, because I do!  And you know what?!  That fucking SUCKS!"   Chris continued to yell, the heartfelt confession he hoped to deliever to her now sounding like nothing more than a fit of blame.  "I mean, do you think I'm enjoying this?!  That I've got nothing better to do with my time than follow you around my fucking house?!"

"And I guess this is my fault, right?!  Just like everything else!"  she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she began to throw her belongings in to her bag.   "Something happens, or someone does something that doesnt quite sit well with them, and automatically, it's my fault!"

"I never said it was your fault!"

"You don't have to!  I know how this game works Chris!  I've been playing it with you and Wade for the past few weeks, remember?!"

"Do I suddenly strike you as the fun and games type of guy?  Because if I have, then clearly I've misled you!"  Chris yelled, grabbing a hold of her arm to turn her around to face him.  "But if you need clarification, then let me just fill you in!  This isn't a game!  Not for me!"

Unable to take the yelling anymore, Michelle turned her face away from his and glanced back across the room.  She knew going there held potential risks, but never in her wildest dreams did she think she would find herself in this situation.  It was almost too much to comprehend. 

"Michelle......"

"What?"  she asked, trying her best to not make eye contact with him as he continued to hold her firmly in front of him. 

"LOOK AT ME GOD DAMN IT!"

Flinching slightly from the sound of his voice, Michelle let out a hysterical cry and began breaking down right in front of him.  It was going to happen.  She could feel it.  Everything she had done to upset him since her arrival had now come to a head, and she was about to pay for it. 

"Oh God!  Chris....Chris please don't!  I just....I can't take anymore!  PLEASE!"  she cried out, her desperate gasps for air breaking up her heartbeaking pleas as she grew limp in his arms.

Seeing the complete look of fear and defeat consume her features, Chris quickly pulled her against him and tried to calm her trembling frame.  The cold realization finally hitting him that he contributed to the fragile state she was now.  She was broken, emotionally and physically, and nothing he could do or say would change that.

"Chris....no...."

"Michelle, stop.  I'm not going to hurt you."  Chris said, his own voice cracking as he struggled to hold on to her.  "It's alright."

As Michelle continued to cry helplessly in his arms, Chris began to sense an unsettling familiarity to it all.  It was as if he was reliving a part of his childhood.  A part he had struggled to put behind him for years.  Except this time around, things were a bit different.  This time he wasn't the one simply trying to provide some comfort.  This time around, he was the one responsible for inflicting the damage.

Feeling like he was going to be sick to his stomach, Chris glanced up at the ceiling and felt his own eyes well with tears.  The realization finally hitting him that he had broken the one promise he had made to his mother before she had passed away.

Chapter 183

As Chantal laid sprawled across her bed, the alarm clock she had been staring at for the last two hours seemed to now be running in slow motion.  Sleep had pretty much been non exsistent last night, and the only thing she could seem to think about was the schedule for the ICU's visiting hours, and when the next time was that she would get to see Wade. 

She had hoped that after making the necessary calls to Shane and their mother on her way home last night, that she would at least be comforted by the thought that she wasn't going to be alone in handling the disaster that Wade's life had turned in to over the last few weeks, but knowing their mother still didn't know the full story worried her just as much as Wade's condition did.

Glancing over at the clock once again, Chantal let out a heavy sigh and decided to just get out of bed and find something to do until Shane arrived.  Luckily for her, he would get there a good few hours before their mother.  After all, there was a lot of things that she needed to tell him before she showed up.  The most important of which was the fact that Wade had relapsed.  A fact that would undoubtedly break their mother's heart.

After heading across her room and down the hall, Chantal remembered that there was one other thing that she still needed to do before he got there and began scanning across the tops of the various tables and furniture in the livingroom for her purse.  She knew she had put it down somewhere, she just couldn't really recall where.  Finally spotting it resting on the top shelf of her bookcase, Chantal let out a sigh of relief and headed over to grab it.

Once she snatched her phone out from inside, Chantal tossed her purse down on the table in front of her and collapsed down in to the chair.  A weird feeling of dread quickly starting to consume her.

"Just call over there and ask to speak to her.  Don't let him make the decision for her.  Ask her yourself."  Chantal said out loud, trying her best to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.

Worried that Shane was going to be there at any moment now, Chantal pushed aside any hesitation she may have had and dialed Justin's number.  After a few rings, she heard some soft commotion and then a very groggy Justin answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Chantal.  I didn't wake you, did I?"

Still slightly confused as he to tried to emerge from the deep sleep he was in, Justin pushed himself in to an upright position and tried to bring himself in to a complete state of consciousness.

"Who is this?"  Justin asked, not quite sure who the person on the other end said there name was.

"It's Chantal."

"Oh, hey.  Sorry."  Justin said, letting out a hearty yawn.  "I didn't hear you the first time."  he continued, arching his back to stretch out.  "What's up?"

"I just called to see how Michelle was doing."

"She's umm...."  Justin started to say, but stopped when he realized she was no longer in bed beside him.  "She's fine." he answered, still confused.

"That's good to know."  Chantal replied, glancing up at the clock on the wall.  "So, I guess I should just go ahead and ask my next question then."

"And what's that?"  Justin asked, tossing the covers away from his body so that he could get out of bed.

"Well first off, before I even ask, I want you to know that I wouldn't be asking this if I didn't think it could make a world of difference in Wade's recovery."

Hearing her mention Wade's name, Justin rolled his eyes and continued across the room and out in to the hall.  Realizing that the house was uncomfortably quiet, Justin ran his hand through his hair and headed down the stairs as he continued their conversation.

"So what do you want Chantal?"

"I want you to bring Michelle down here...to see Wade."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Justin, don't be like that.  I already told you I wouldn't be asking unless..."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time."

"It's not like I'm not asking her to forgive him, or even pretend that everything is fine between them.  I just want him to hear her voice.  I want him to know that she's there, that she's alright."

"That's not going to happen."  Justin snickered, the realization finally hitting him that he was in an empty house, with no sign of Michelle or Trace anywhere.

"Isn't that a decision she should be making?"

"Maybe if she was even capable of making decisions, but I think it's more than a little obvious that she hasn't been making the best choices lately.  Someone should have stepped in a long time ago to help her, and they didn't."  Justin said, the tone of his voice clearly meant to display that he placed some of that blame on her.  "Well, I'm here now, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let her get within fifty feet of your brother.  Coma or not."

"Justin, he was asking for her when they brought him in!  What could it hurt?  Seriously?!"

"I'm not going to put her in that situation Chantal!  We don't even know what the fuck happened last night!"

"You know what, just forget it.  I'll ask her myself when I see her."

"And when do you plan on seeing......"

Unfortunately before Justin could even finish his sentence, Chantal had already hung up the phone.

Letting out a frustrated chuckle, Justin headed across the livingroom and proceeded to glance out in to the driveway.  After realizing that Trace's truck was gone, he flipped the phone back over and began dialing the number to Trace's cell phone.  Luckily for his patience, it only rang twice before Trace had picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, is Michelle with you?"

Hearing Justin's voice on the other end, Trace felt his stomach instantly tie in knots.

"Hey J....ummm....yeah.  She is.  She just wanted to take a drive, get some fresh air."  Trace lied, glancing up the long driveway that led to Chris' house.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?  You had me worried man."

"Sorry dude.  I thought you would still be sleeping by the time we got back.  Besides, you needed some sleep."

"Yeah well, next time let me know."  Justin said, heading over to the refridgerator to grab the orange juice from the top shelf.  "Can you put her on?"

Allowing his head to fall backward against the headrest, Trace knew that this was it.  The mother of all earfulls was about to be released on him, and there wasn't anything he could do to soften the news he was about ot deliver.

"She's actually....not here right now, in the truck I mean."

"Where is she?"

"In...side."  Trace replied, stretching out the word as he tried to come up with a reply to the next question he feared would come out of his best friend's mouth.

"Inside where man?  No.  You know what, just go give her the phone."

"I can't.  You're just....you're just going to have to wait to talk to her until she comes back out."

"From where?!"  Justin yelled, his frustration with the entire siutation increasing with every second that passed.  "What the fuck is going on?!  Where are you?!"

Knowing that he was only prolonging the inevitable, Trace glanced up the driveway once more and then cautiously began to speak.

"We're at ummm.....that....that guy Chris' house."

"Where?"  Justin asked, then almost instantly Trace's answer hit him like a ton of bricks.  "WAIT, YOU'RE WHERE?!"

"Justin......"

"PLEASE TELL ME I HEARD YOU WRONG TRACE!?"

"I didn't know that this is what she had in mind J, you have to believe me.  She told me that she wanted me to take her home."

"AND HOW IS THAT ANY BETTER?!"  Justin yelled, quickly heading back upstairs to get dressed.  "So instead of taking her home, to a place you know he is familiar with anyway, you just decide to deliver her right to his fucking door?!  WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING TRACE?! JESUS!"

"I told you I didn't know that she had this planned!  It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you!"

"I highly doubt that!"  Justin growled, the thought of impending doom quickly filling his mind.  "So let me get this straight.  She is inside that mother fucker's house, and you're not with her?  Is that right?!"

"He wouldn't let me go with her!"

"WELL THERE'S A SURPRISE!  I WONDER WHY!"

"It's not like she is in there alone though.  I'm not that stupid man!  She went in with two LAPD officers."

"HE HAS DIRTY COPS ON HIS PAYROLL TRACE!  THAT'S PROBABLY WHO SHE THINKS IS IN THERE KEEPING HER SAFE!  HIS FUCKING CROOKED FRIENDS!"

"Well what should I do?  Do you want me to go up there?" Trace asked, his voice quickly becoming as unraveled as Justin's.

"DO SOMETHING DAMN IT!"

"Alright, I'll call you back in a few minutes."  Trace said exiting back out of his truck.  "I'm sorry man, I didn't know."

"I don't need your apologies Trace.  What I need is for you to go get her out of there and bring her back home!"

Knowing that any more conversation was merely a waste of time, Trace quickly flipped his phone shut and jumped back out of his truck.

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Standing there in his room with his arms still firmly wrapped around Michelle, Chris suddenly began to feel the walls closing in on him.  His heart, which had once kept a steady rhythm in his chest, was now pounding with such force, that he swore she had to feel it through his chest.  His breathing wasn't much better either, and it was quickly becoming even more erratic with every second that passed.  It was just too much.  Her trembling frame against his, his mother's soft, yet disappointed face undoubtedly looking down from above, the childhood dreams of living a normal life, all of it threatening to end his very existence if he didn't pull himself together...and fast.

"Michelle, look at me.  I'm not going to hurt you, I swear to God I'm not."  Chris finally said, his voice just barely above a whisper as he rested his cheek against the side of her head. 

Hearing his voice and realizing where she was, Michelle quickly wiped her eyes and pushed herself out of his hold.  She knew that she couldn't believe a word out of anyone's mouth anymore, least of all his, so she quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts and backed a little further away.

"Stop.  Just stop Chris."

"Stop what?" he asked, cautiously trying to reach out to her once again.

"Everything!  This 'nice guy' act!  The little game you're playing!  All of it!  Just STOP!"

"Michelle..."

"No!  JUST STOP!"  she yelled again, quickly making her way out of his bedroom and down the hall towards the guestroom.

Not one to give up so easily, Chris followed her down the hall and felt his temper quickly resurfacing against his will.  He wanted to just sprint forward and grab her, tell her that she was being ridiculous and that he already told her he wasn't going to hurt her, but the truth of the matter was, that approach wouldn't work.  In fact, that approach is what put him in this situation he was now in.  Forcing his angered gate to slow, Chris cautiously continued down the hall and hoped that by the time he reached the room, his temper would once again be in check. 

Once Michelle entered the room, she wasted no time in gathering up whatever belongings she could get her hands on.  It didn't even matter at this point what she left behind, just so long as she left with her purse and they keys to Jenna's car.  The rest could easily be replaced, and she would do so happily.

"Come on damn it.  Where the hell did I leave it."  Michelle said, her voice pratically a panicked cry as she scoured the room in search for her purse. 

Finally spotting it on the floor beside a small nightstand, Michelle quickly ran over and snatched it from the floor, tucking it under her arm as she headed over to grab her duffle bag off of the chair. 

"Michelle, don't do this.  Just stop and talk to me."  Chris' voice chimed in from the doorway.

Ignoring his attempt at trying to carry on a conversation with her, Michelle continued back across the room, nearly knocking Chris over in the process as she exited through the door.  There wasn't any time for talking or apologizing.  No second guessing whether or not she was seeing the real Chris or someone he just wanted her to see, and their definitely wasn't any time to try and uncover what his real motives were behind this little ruse.  She had to get out of there.

Feeling his shoulder hit against the door as she brushed past him, a small chuckle escaped his mouth and he glanced back down the hall in her direction.  She wasn't just ignoring him anymore, she was being blantantly disrespectful, and what was even worse, was that she was once again doing it to him in his own house.

"You know what Michelle..."

Hearing the tone of Chris' voice change as he called out from behind her, Michelle knew with alarming certainty that she needed to get out of that house as quick as she could. 

Rushing towards the stairs as fast her feet would take her, Michelle felt herself begin to hyperventilate.  The fear of suffering the same fate that Tanner had only hours before weighing heavily on her mind as she approached the first step.

"Can someone help me!"  Michelle called out as she started to descend the stairs.

Hearing Michelle's desperate plea for assistance, Seargeant Deitrick moved from his position by the door and headed over towards the staircase.

"Is everything alright?"  he asked, as he stepped in to view.

"Everything is just fuckin great!"  Chris yelled, continuing after her at a rapid pace.  "Can't you tell?!"

Seeing the look of fear plastered across Michelle's face as she came running down the stairs, Sergeant Deitrick headed over to the bottom and prepared to run interference for the young girl.

"Do you have everything you need?"  he asked, when Michelle reached the bottom.

"I...I just need to get my car."  she replied, her voice cracking as she looked back towards the stairs at Chris.

"Do you have the keys?"

"No, but I know where they are."  Michelle replied, quickly heading to the other side of the house.

After acknowledging the fact that she would be right back, Sergeant Deitrick reached forward and place his arm across the bottom of the staircase to stop Chris from going any further.

"Move Frank."  Chris growled, as he studied the arm that blocked his path.

"What did I tell you before you went up there?" Sergeant Deitrick replied, the tone of his voice leaving little room for discussion on who was in charge at that very moment.

"I DIDN'T HURT HER!"  Chris yelled, once again glancing down at his arm.  "NOW MOVE!"

Taking offense to the tone of voice Chris was using with him, Sergeant Deitrick reached down and unfastened the strap of his holster.  Less than a second later, he had the gun aimed directly at Chris.

"Why don't you just take a few minutes and calm yourself down.  Don't go making this any harder."

Letting another slight snicker escape his mouth, Chris slowly collapsed down on to the stairs and stared coldly up at the challenging look on the sergeant's face.  He knew his gun was still upstairs and there really wasn't much he could do without it.  A fact that bothered him more than he could imagine.

Chapter 184

As Chris continued to sit there, watching someone else call the shots in his house, a thousand different scenerios began to play out in his head as he contemplated his next move.

"I hope you're thinking this through Frank.  I mean, REALLY thinking this through." Chris said, his knee bouncing up and down repeatedly with anger and frustration.

"I found the keys."  Michelle's voice chimed in as she rounded the corner.  "I just need to get my car out of the garage, and then I'm ready to go."  she continued, her gaze suddenly drifting up to meet Chris' as he sat staring down the barrel of the police officer's gun.  "Wh...what's going on?"  Michelle asked, a new sense of fear grabbing hold as she studied the scene before her.

"Everything's fine ma'am.  Just go get your car and get out of here."

Unfortunately, even though she was being handed a trouble free departure, Michelle's feet wouldn't move.  The fear that consumed her proving to be stronger than her desire to leave.

"Ma'am?"

Seeing the pale color wash over Michelle's face as she continued to stand there, Chris realized that the sight of Frank's handgun was causing her the distress and quickly jumped to his feet. 

"Put the gun down Frank." 

"What did I just tell you?!"  the sergeant yelled, quickly taking a step closer to Chris. "Sit down!"

"Frank...."

"Don't make me tell you again!"

"PUT THE FUCKIN GUN DOWN!"  Chris yelled, his attention only briefly adverting away from the situation when he heard a knock on the front door.

Unfortunately, the startling sound coming from behind Sergeant Deitrick kept his attention long enough for Chris to make his move, and in a matter of seconds, Chris had effortlessly gained control of both the situation, and the gun. 

"YOU EVER POINT THIS AT ME AGAIN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL YOU ON THE SPOT!"  Chris yelled, quickly raising his arm to aim the gun directly at the sergeant's face. 

Hearing the raised voices come from the other side of the door as he got closer, Trace gathered up all the strength and courage he could manage, and quickly opened the front door.  Realizing that Michelle could be in grave danger, he didn't think twice about rushing inside to look for her. 

"Michelle?!"

Hearing the sound of Trace's voice call out to her, Michelle immeadiately looked over her shoulder and saw him standing just inside the doorway, a look of dread quickly replacing the look of uncertainty he walked in with.  Fearing the worst, Michelle slowly turned her attention back to Chris, and saw that he now had the gun aimed directly at Trace.

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO STEP FOOT IN THIS HOUSE?!"

"Look man, I don't want any trouble.  I just want to get Michelle...and then we'll leave." he said, quickly throwing his hands up in defense as he glanced back and forth between Chris and the police officer.

Ignoring his comment, Chris took a few steps closer to Trace.

"I guess you're a bit hard of hearing, aren't you?" 

"Chris don't."  Michelle said, her voice wavering slightly as she fought to hold it together.

"Come on man.  Just put the gun down."

"You have exactly two seconds to get the fuck off my property."  Chris growled, his attention suddenly pulled back towards Michelle when he heard the labored sound of her breathing increasing.

"Chris, just let them go." the sergeant finally spoke up. 

"Unless you want to join him Frank, I advise YOU shut the fuck up!" 

"I advise you drop the gun!"  a voice rang out from behind him, and Chris' head snapped back around to see Officer Ruschak standing in the doorway with his service weapon pointed directly at him.

"You have got to be fuckin kidding me?!"   Chris said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

"Drop the gun!  NOW!"

Knowing that Chris would rather go out in a hail of gunfire, than give up control of the situation, Frank took a few steps forward and quickly spoke up.

"Dave, put the gun down.  It's alright."

Casting a look of complete disbelief at his partner, Officer Ruschak maintained his position, never once lowering the gun.

"You better tell your boy to drop the gun Frank." Chris said, the tone of his voice sounding menacingly cold as he stood there with a smile on his face.

"Dave!  The gun?"

After glancing around at the faces of those standing in the room, Officer Ruschak straightened up a little bit and hesitantly began to lower his gun.  He hated to go against protocol and everything he was taught in the academy, but clearly by the look on Frank's face, there was more going on than he was aware of. 

"Smart move."

Satisfied that things were finally starting to work out in his favor, Chris started to turn his attention back towards Trace when something caught his eye.  Realizing that Michelle's body was beginning to sway ever so slightly, Chris lowered the gun and quickly turned his entire body in her direction.

"Michelle?"

Unfortunately before he could even process or react to what was happening, the set of keys that she had been holding slipped from her hand, and her body crumbled to the hardwood floor beside him.

"Michelle!"  Chris yelled, the panic in his voice taking everyone by surprise as they watched him drop to his knees beside her.  "Come on.  Don't do this to me."  he continued, gently trying to adjust her body so that she was in a more comfortable position. 

"Watch her ribs!  She's hurt!"  Trace shouted, instinctively taking a few steps closer towards them.

Though his focus was locked on Michelle, Trace's words somehow found their way to Chris' subconscious and he glanced down at her mid section.  Although common sense should have told him to leave well enough alone, the deep purple markings that were peeking out from underneath the bottom of her shirt screamed out to him, and his fingers softly began to push the fabric up higher so that he could try and get a better look. 

"Chris?!"  Jackson called out, his voice ripping through the silence as he rushed through the kitchen and in to the foyer.  "I saw the police parked out front. What the hell is going on?" he continued, his stride stopping abruptly when he saw the two officers standing in the room.  "Frank?  What the fuck is going on?"

"You tell me."  he replied, motioning towards Chris as he remained on the floor, completely oblivious to everything, and everyone else around him.

"What's he doing?  Who's on the....."  Jackson started to say, but stopped when he realized exactly who it was that he saw.  "GOD DAMN IT!"

Spotting Michelle laying motionless on the floor beside him, Jackson quickly ran over and grabbed the back of Chris' shirt to pull him away from her. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!"

After falling backwards from the force Jackson used to grab him, Chris suddenly snapped out of it, and glanced over his shoulder.  The sight of his best friend standing behind him, catching him completely by surprise.

"What's she doing here Chris?!"

"What?"  Chris asked, the confusion of the moment still taking center stage in his mind.

"Michelle!  Why is she here?!"  Jackson asked once again, ripping the gun from Chris' grasp and handing it back over to Frank.

Rembering that she was still laying on the floor, Chris broke free of Jackson's hold and turned his attention back to Michelle.  Unfortunately he wasn't the only one concerned about her in the room, and a wave of rage swept over him when he saw Trace hovering over her attentively.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!"

Grabbing a hold of Chris' shirt once again, Jackson pulled Chris to his feet and shoved him towards the living room.  He couldn't say he knew all there was to know concerning the situation in walked in on, but from what he could tell, Chris was definitely, and not surprisingly, the cause of all the problems.

"GET OFF OF ME JACKSON!  SHE NEEDS ME!"

"You're the last thing she needs right now!  Look at you!  Christ, look at HER!"

Glancing back at Michelle once again, Chris saw all three men circled around her, doing their best to try to bring her back in to a state of consciousness.  The bruises that spanned across the silken area of skin that he so seductively ran his fingers across the other night, mocking him from across the room.

"He's not leaving here with her Jackson!"

"KNOCK IT OFF!  RIGHT NOW!"  Jackson yelled, practically dragging Chris down the hall towards his study.  "GOD!  WHAT THE FUCK HAS GOTTEN IN TO YOU?!  I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU ANYMORE MAN!" 

On the verge of a breakdown, Chris began pacing the small room that Jackson had shoved him in to.

"I can't lose her!  Don't you understand that?!"  Chris pleaded, the tone of his voice bordering on desperation.  "Something brought here here Jackson, and I didn't have anything to do with it!  That has to count for something!  This is my chance to try and fix things!  Don't you see that?!"

"You call that fixing things?!"  Jackson snapped back, as he pointed down the hall.  "Because if you ask me, she looks worse off than she did when she left here last time!"

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO HER THOUGH!"

Hearing the sound of footsteps walking towards them, Jackson took a few steps back and glanced out in to the hall.  When he did, he saw Frank and his partner headed their way.

"Hey man, what's up?" 

"The girl appears to be alright.  With everything that was going on, she probably just got a little worked up and fainted.  The kid out there is going to take her home, but I don't know what they are doing with the car.  He just wants to give her a couple of minutes to make sure she's really alright before they head out."

"Jackson, I can take her home.  WE can take her home!  Just don't take this opportunity away from me!"  Chris all but pleaded, as he laced his hands on top of his head.  "Jackson?  Please."

After letting out a heavy sigh, Jackson stepped out in to the hall with the two police officers and extended his hand out to Frank.

"Gimme your cuffs."

"Why?"  Frank asked, reaching behind him to pull out the set of handcuffs from the case attached to his belt.

"I can't afford to take any more chances with him.  Not after everything that's gone on these last few days."  he replied, heading directly for Chris with his other hand extended.  "Let's go.  Give me your wrist."

"For what?!" 

"Michelle's going to walk out of this house, and your life in a matter of minutes.  Do you really want to waste this time questioning me, or do you just want to do what I tell you, so I can go try and stop her from leaving?"

Letting a half-hearted chuckle escaped his lips, Chris hung his head in defeat and reluctantly brought his left arm up in front of him 

"That's what I thought."  Jackson said, quickly tightening one of the handcuffs around his best friend's wrist.  "Alright, let's go."

After escorting Chris back down the hall, Jackson guided him over to the small set of stairs that led down in to the formal living room and forced him down on to the top step.

"Was that really necessary?"  Chris asked, trying to stable himself. 

"Was that a serious question?"  Jackson replied, quickly fastening the other end of the handcuffs around one of the marble pillars on the rail.

Knowing that the best thing to do was just ignore the question, Chris glanced up at his best friend and then hung his head once again.

"You guys can take off.  I got this." 

"Are you sure?"  Frank asked, fastening the snap on his holster that held his gun in place.  "Because if you need me to stick around for awhile, I can."

"He's not going to give me any trouble.  Trust me."

"I hope there's no hard feelings Chris.  It's just that, you always seem to drag me in to a bad situation.  You know that, right?"  Frank asked, stepping in to Chris' line of sight.

"You wanna see a bad situation?!  I'll show you a bad situation!" 

Not wanting to escalate things any more than they already were, Jackson firmly shoved Chris back down and applied just enough force on his pressure point to keep him in place on the step.

"Don't worry about him Frank.  He's just having some trouble charting foreign waters with the lovely little lady out there."  Jackson snickered.  "It's fine, seriously.  We're cool."

After nodding his head, Frank motioned towards the door and the other officer followed suit.  Less than a minute later they heard the sound of the front door closing and Jackson turned his attention back to his best friend.

"Look, I can't guarantee you anything man, but if I'm going out there after her, then you have to get it together and stop flying off the handle like that!  All that is going to do is send her running in the opposite direction!"

"Whatever you want me do, I'll do it!  Just.........don't let her leave man.  Not like this."

Taking his words to heart, Jackson headed back down the hall and disappeared out the front door. He wasn't sure if he actually had the means of keeping her there, but that doubt wouldn't shake his determination to at least try, and hopefully, if things went as he had planned, Chris would finally be in a position to show her exactly how he felt.

Chapter 185

After Chantal had hung up the phone with Justin, she let out a gasp of disbelief and placed the phone down on the table.  To say that he was being pig-headed and difficult would be a huge understatement.  The only way she was giving up on having Michelle see Wade, was if SHE refused.

"Damn it." 

As she continued to sit there trying to figure out exactly how she was going to get Michelle to the hospital, she heard a soft knock on her front door.  Hoping that Shane had finally arrived, Chantal sprung to her feet and sprinted over to the door.  Wasting no time in checking to see who it was beforehand, Chantal pulled the door open and sighed heavily.

"Thank God you're here."  she said, her voice muffled by the firmness of Shane's shoulder as she ran over and wrapped her arms around him.  "I don't know how much more of this I could have taken without you."

"Why didn't you call me before it got this bad?"  Shane asked, gently moving her away from him so that he could look at her.

"I was hoping that he would get help, that he would see what the hell he had been doing over these last few weeks."  she replied, stepping back slightly so that Shane could come inside.  "I guess I just gave him too much credit.  I really thought this time would be different."

"So how long?"

"How long what?"  Chantal asked, following him over to the sofa.

"How long has this been going on?"

"I can't say exactly, but a few weeks maybe?  I mean, I know he'd been drinking quite a bit, but I don't think the coke came in to play until recently."

"And you're certain he's back on coke?"

"I saw it all over the kitchen table Shane.  There isn't a doubt in my mind."

Scrunching his face up in frustration, Shane let out a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sister.

"You mention he was seeing a girl.  What's the deal with her?"

"I don't even know where to start."

"Try the beginning." 

After making themselves comfortable on the sofa, Chantal turned to face her brother.

"Well, she works at Millennium, that's where he met her.  They started dating soon after she came to LA, and I guess things were fine.  I mean, from what I saw they appeared fine.  She's a pretty girl, very sweet.  Not really typical of the LA girls I've seen on his arm lately, so I was more than happy...and so was he."

"So what happened?"

"Wade happened."  she said, shaking her head with disgust.  "At some point, and I really don't know why, he just snapped.  I know that at one point he thought she was messing around on him with Justin, but that was after they were having problems, but as far as the initial breakdown, I'm not sure."

"What do you mean he 'snapped'?"

"I mean, he snapped and hit this girl.  And I'm not talking about a one time mistake where he slapped her.  This happened more than once, and I'm talking about marks all over this girl, unconscious on his living room floor kind of 'snapped'."

"Jesus Christ.”  Shane replied, the expression on his face completely blank as he tried to fathom what he had just heard.  “Wade hurt the girl?  Like, REALLY hurt her bad?"

"Yeah, he did.  I know it's so much worse than what I can tell you, but honestly, I don't think I could handle knowing anymore than I already do."

"And she never pressed charges?"  Shane asked, pulling his cell phone out from his pocket to toss it up on the table.

"No.  I'm sure she was probably terrified of him.  I mean, she never left him.  At least that I know of."  Chantal replied, her own comment twisting her stomach in knots when she realized Justin was right to place some of the blame on her.  "She was probably too worried about what he would do if she tried to leave."

"Do you think she was just one more addiction for him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was she just one more thing that Wade couldn't get enough of?  Was he addicted to her?  Was she something in his life that he could control?"

"Yeah, he was definitely addicted to her, but not in the way you're thinking.  He liked this girl.  A lot."  she said, a heartbreaking feeling washing over her.  "Actually, let me rephrase that.  He 'loves' this girl, as in, 'this isn't over and he still wants her in his life'.  Did he control her?  Sadly, I think he did.  Mentally and physically."

Running both hands over his face, Shane tried to come to terms with everything he was hearing about his little brother.  There were so many unanswered questions that worried him, but what worried him even more were implications that Wade’s action could have caused.

"Where is this girl at now?"

"Justin's house, and that's a whole other story that I'd rather not get in to right now.  I called earlier to see if I could try and get her to go see Wade, but Justin wasn't too keen on that idea.  Not that I can say I blame him.  I mean, he's trying to do the right thing by her, but...I really think that Wade needs her there."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea either Chantal.  It might be best for us to cut all ties between them now before things get any worse."

"Wade isn't going to stand for that Shane."

"Well, he really doesn't have a say now, does he?  I mean, you said he hurt this girl.  How much could he really love her?  His relationship with her needs to end.  It's as simple as that.”

Seeing the look of hurt and disbelief spread across his sister's face as she digested his comment, Shane let out a hearty chuckle.

"Don't you realize that he can go to jail for what he's done to her?!  Why would you want it to continue?”

“And you think if we just cut all ties, that she won’t press charges?!  That’s ridiculous!  She can press charges anytime she wants, but if she wanted to go that route Shane, she would have done it long ago!”

“Regardless!  I don’t think she should see him.  I think her staying away would be in everyone’s best interest.”

“It wouldn’t be in Wade’s best interest, I’m certain of that."  Chantal said, biting down on her bottom lip.  "And just so you know, I will bring her to see him Shane, whether you think it’s a good idea or not.”

After boldly making her declaration, Chantal glanced up at the clock on the wall and realized that the first scheduled visiting house for the ICU would be starting soon.

“Are you ready to head down there?”  she asked, letting out a heavy sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”  Shane said, pushing himself in to an upright position and extending his hand to her.  “Look, I’m sorry for jumping all over you.  I’m sure you know a lot more about what’s going on than I do.  I’m just...”

“I know.”  Chantal interrupted him.  “I am too.”

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Once Jackson walked out Chris' font door, he saw Trace slowly escorting Michelle down the driveway and quickly called out to her.

"Michelle, hold on!"

Turning to her right, Michelle glanced over her shoulder and saw Jackson running towards them with a look of urgency on his face.

"Man, the police are right there!  Don't try and pull anything stupid."  Trace said, gently trying to move Michelle in front of him as they continued heading down the driveway.

"Did I look like I was trying to start trouble in there, or stop it?"  Jackson snapped back, sprinting a few more feet ahead of them so he could stop them in their path.  "Look I know I don't have any right to ask you to stay here and talk to me for a minute, but deep down, I think you know why I'm trying to stop you from walking out of here."

Breaking her gaze from Jackson's, Michelle looked down at Trace's hand as it held on to her protectively.  She did have a feeling as to why he stopped her, but it wasn't something she wanted to discuss.

"Michelle, he's not going to hurt you.  Just come back inside and talk him."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!  She isn't going back in there!"  Trace yelled, stepping around Jackson so that he could once again help Michelle down to his truck.

Not willing to give up on something that could very easily become a life ending factor for Chris in his current state of mind, Jackson once again jogged down the driveway and cut them off.

"Michelle, you know there is more to him than what he allows people to see.  I know you do."

"Jackson I can't.  I just can't go back up there with him."

Seeing the look of fear quickly spread across her face once again, Jackson looked over at Trace and cleared his throat.

"Do you mind if I talk to her alone?"

"Yes!  As a matter of fact I do!"

"Trace, it's alright.  Can you just give me a few minutes."

"Michelle, I don't think..."

"I know, but it's ok.  Honestly."

After reluctantly releasing his hold on Michelle's arm, Trace took a few steps down the driveway and locked his eyes on the two of them, willing to spring in to action if the need arose.

Once Jackson had placed enough distance between Michelle and her unwelcomed companion, Jackson shoved his hands in his front pockets and glanced back up at the house.

"He isn't going to do anything to you, I promise.  I'll be right there."

"Why do you want me to go back in there and talk to him Jackson?  Seriously?  What could he possibly have to say that I would want to hear?"

"I'm sure he has a lot to say.  A lot to apologize for.  But it isn't my place to discuss what's gone down between the two of you or what exactly he needs to apologize for."

Knowing what he was referring to, a few tears slipped from Michelle's eyes and she quickly wiped them away.

"Look, if nothing else, use this opportunity to go back in there and tell him everything that's on your mind.  Tell him what he's done to you, how he hurt you.  Tell him what he needs to hear Michelle.  Make him take responsibility for what he's done."

"Do you think he cares what I have to say?!  That he has any remorse for what he's done Jackson?!"

"Yes.  Because he does."  Jackson replied, the tone of his voice leaving little room to doubt that what he was saying, was the truth.

Seeing the contemplative look on her face as she glanced back and forth between Trace and the house, Jackson knew he needed to act quickly and went right for his ace in the hole.  To that one piece of information that could determine whether or not she would agree to go back inside.

"He's cuffed Michelle.  He doesn't have his gun, he won't be able to get close to you.  You'll be completely safe."

"I don't know if I can do this Jackson.  I don't know if I WANT to do this."

"But you DO want to do this, that's why you're still here.  Don't let the fear of what you think could happen get in the way.  I'll be right there, and I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Giving him a disbelieving glance, Michelle wiped a few more tears from her eyes and let out a slight chuckle.

"Ok, so maybe that promise seems a little bit ridiculous after everything that has happened, but all I can do is give you my word.  Take it for what you will."

"And what about Trace?  Is he just supposed to wait here for me?"

"Well that's up to you, but if you want to send him home, I can drive you back to your place after you're done talking to Chris, and TJ can follow behind us in your car."

Knowing that one of the main reasons for going to Chris' house was to get Jenna's car, Michelle glanced back at Trace and then let out a heavy sigh as she turned back around to face Jackson.

"Alright, just let me go talk to Trace first."

"That's fine.  I'll just go wait up by the door."

After watching Jackson head back towards the house, Michelle took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  She couldn't believe that she had actually agreed to go back in there and talk to Chris, but now that she had, she needed to go back down the driveway and try to convince Trace that she knew what she was doing, and that she would be alright. 

Seeing her headed back towards him, Trace started walking back up the driveway in an attempt to meet her halfway.  Unfortunately once he got close enough to see her face, he knew something wasn't right and sprinted up the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?  What did he say to you?!"

"Nothing."  she replied, casting a quick glance back at Jackson.  "It's just that...I'm going to go back in there and talk to Chris for a few minutes."

"WHAT?!"

"Look, I really appreciate you driving me up here Trace.  I really do.  I just need to do this."

"You don't NEED to do anything!"  Trace yelled, casting an angered glare back up the driveway at Jackson.  "Did he threaten you?!"

"No, it's nothing like that.  I just...I need to do this.  For myself."

"Michelle I don't think that's a good idea.  Just come back to Justin's house with me, please."

"I'm going to stay here Trace, but even if I didn't agree to stay here and talk with him, I wouldn't be going back to Justin's."  Michelle said, wrapping her arms around herself.  "I'll be alright.  I promise."

"Michelle don't."

"Thanks again...for everything."  she quickly replied, ignoring his request not to go back in there as she headed back up the driveway to meet Jackson.