Whispers of Redemption

This is the Third installment (Pt.03 of Whispers of Redemption) Remember to vote and give Feedback, it is greatly appreciated. For all of you who have been voting, leaving public comments and emailing me feedback you have been a HUGE help! Thank you; you have no idea how much it means to me

** One of you (you chose to remain anonymous) mentioned your appreciation for my mini soundtrack in pt.02.Just for a heads up as the story gets...darker and slightly more...'involved' you will be hearing a lot more from Thomas Newman. Kudos for commenting, it meant a lot to me. : )**

WARNING: I guess it would be in everyone's interest (although this is like the third installment : p) to warn any newcomers and even those of you that have read the last two installments. This will not be a short story (I'm anticipating at least 15 parts) and I won't have a lot of the 'good stuff' *wink wink nudge nudge* for a few more parts. It is important to me that you grow to know and understand the characters before we watch them grow to know and understand themselves and each other ...so if you're looking for a short, hot story...this isn't it; This is a narrative about people, in every sense of the word...it's bound to be long and complicated. With that being said, Enjoy.

P.S (I know I know you just want to read pt.03 hehe. Just one more thing) every chapter will start out with a quote, lyrics to be exact. It's up to you if you want to use the lyrics to find and listen to these songs; I wouldn't call it a soundtrack...just songs that literally define each chapter. Heads up! They are a tad bit cryptic...interpret and apply...and if you're interested in knowing if you're right about the link between the song and the chapter Comment or Give feedback with your idea.

Now...for real ENJOY!

Chapter 4: Premonitions

"Where will I meet my fate? Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate; And when will I meet my end?... In a better time you could be my friend."

November 13th 2000

2:55 am

Westgate Manor Rocco & Rita's Residence

He stared at her delicate form under their Egyptian cotton sheets. With each deep and quiet breath she took, her form slowly rose only to gracefully sink back down into the bed. He inaudibly stripped himself of his tie, dress shirt, shoes, slacks, socks and under shirt. In precise over-exaggerated and cautious movements he slipped under the cool cotton and fused his body to hers with a suppressed groan; his nose in her dark red fiery bob-cut hair, his chest against her elegant back, his hips nestled triumphantly against her rear, his thighs snatching the warmth of the back of hers', his cold feet seeking hers. Despite the possibility that he might wake her, he snuck an arm around her tiny waist as if that could pull her even closer than she already was. He knew she was tired but couldn't fight the insistent urge to wake her...he needed her. He placed a kiss at the nape of her neck; it was light and fleeting but electrifying all at once. She always tasted sweet, she was always so warm. His hand traveled in a caress from her hipbone to her stomach where it halted, splaying possessively across the slightly swollen area. His chest tightened inexplicably and a small smile seized his lips.

"Your feet are cold" She murmured in her unconsciousness, still emerged in deep sleep. He kissed the area behind her ear and then her earlobe; he was on his way to the piercing at the very top of her ear when her hand came up reflexively to weakly slap him away. The back of her hand brushed against his nose and he smiled kissing each of her fingers, her hand losing life against his face as she was drawn into a deeper slumber. He chuckled at how much of a ridiculously deep sleeper she was. If he could've taken a picture of the moment he would've: her small loving hand on his face and her head buried in the pillow. He continued to kiss her fingers, his subconscious wanting her to wake up, his common sense telling him to let her sleep. She shuffled slightly and the insignificant movement sent a bolt of barefaced desire up his spine. Instantly he felt himself harden, the black silk of his boxer's egging the torturous tension on. Selfishly, his hips surged forward. On a whisper of a whimper his wife awakened. Immediately he felt guilty.

"Rocco?" She whispered wearily

"Hey, baby" He whispered back whilst kissing the back of her neck. Rita rubbed her eye habitually and reached for the clock. 3: 00 am. She took one more glance to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her as her even breaths faltered slightly and her ears grew hot. 3:00am. What was he doing coming home at 3:00 am?

Rocco felt her tense the moment she glanced at the small alarm clock on the bedside table. He closed his eyes in chagrin. He usually turned the bedside table clock around before he got into bed. Rita was always quarrelling with him for coming home late.

"It's 3 o'clock in the morning" She said in a deceivingly placid voice.

"Don't get mad" He whispered into her hair. "I love you" he said teasingly. Rita pushed away and sat up abruptly.

"Where were you?" She asked immediately, her palms sinking further into the silky scrunched up fabric of the sheet by her sides.

"Work"

"That's not vague," She scoffed bitterly as she buttoned the top buttons of her nightgown and readied herself to stand. Rocco simultaneously wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his face in her back.

"I had to handle some business. If I could've made it home earlier, I would've. You know that, Rita" He said-his words muffled by the fabric of her gown.

"Let go of me, Rocco." She said slowly. He knew she was angry. It was more like fear than it was anger. His 'profession' required secrecy and ambiguity...the very two things Rita hated. She was worried that one day he wasn't going to come home and Jeremy would show up on her door step with the news. She was worried their baby would grow up without a father. She was worried that she was going to lose her best friend before she was ready to let him go. She wrapped her tiny hands around his forearm with the intention of prying it from around her waist; instead she found her hands traveling the soft toned expanse of it. She traced the veins along his arm and smiled faintly when she felt his nose nudge her spine.

"Rocco" She murmured "Please be careful" Her voice trembled. Her grip tightened on his forearm and she fought the knot growing in her throat. "Okay?"

It was unlike Rita to cry...in fact she'd rather scream, claw, and spit than cry. Ever since she had gotten pregnant her hormones had gone completely berserk. She would cry when he left in the mornings and she would cry when he didn't come home on time. It was ridiculous and embarrassing for her because she wasn't the type of woman to stay home and mope. For god sakes, she was a corporate lawyer completely capable of digging a dying business out of its own mess and reviving it...completely capable of handling her own. Rocco refused to let her work while she was pregnant, although he had no idea that she worked three times a week now instead of everyday. Derek, her boss, wouldn't give her maternity leave until she hit her five month mark. She knew for a fact Rocco would make one hell of a scene and she would probably get fired if she told him...hence the covertness. She felt the familiar sting at the back of her eyes and took a small breath in hopes of staunching her irrationality.

"I'm always careful" Rocco replied as he tightened his arm around her waist. She nearly burst out in tears when he said that. Rocco loved to act as if he held his destiny in the palms of his hand. He liked to act like he controlled what happened and what didn't...liked to act like he was invincible. It was what had attracted her to the occasionally arrogant and unconventional man; she had loathed him at first...but that loathing had turned into liking and liking had turned into utterly adoring. The very thing that attracted her to him now scared her witless. She couldn't lose Rocco. She had lost two bothers and both parents and lived to tell the story...but she couldn't lose Rocco. Tentatively, she reached for his hand and placed it on her abdomen.

"Be careful for

us

" She spoke meaningfully, her hand resting on his. She closed her eyes as he kissed his way up her back, reveling in the heat of his lips as it seared through her night gown. He rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped both arms around her. His lips caressed her ear and she shivered involuntarily. Rocco stared at the soft curve of her neck; her sleek hair cut accentuated the shape. In his peripheral he caught the slightest movement. He turned just in time to see a tear roll down her cheek. Her head was turned to the side slightly and he watched the tear roll in a painfully slow pace down the profile of her cheek. It was like a kick to his gut. Rita never cried; yet she had been crying too much lately. His fingers captured the tear before it could fall and he was whispering words of comfort before he could think of them.

"I'm here" He said broodingly "I'm not going anywhere" He nearly growled. "Don't watch the clock, Rita. Time can't break my promise. I won't ever leave you."

Rita broke down in soft sobs at his words. He was so oblivious to how poetic he was. Time can't break my promise. She replayed the sentence in her mind over and over again before she filed it away. She wouldn't forget. She turned around searching for the pleasure and comfort of his strong arms. Instinctively she buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his sinewy abdomen. He drew her down to the bed and kissed her tear stained cheeks.

"Come sei bella (How beautiful you are)" He said through a small smile. She sniffed sheepishly and kissed his neck, then his jaw and cheek. Her lips lingered on his nose and he chuckled. Suddenly his lips were moving against hers and she whimpered in genuine pleasure. His lips were euphoric. They moved against hers in a rhythm that drove her senses crazy, their warmth threatened to consume her. His hands seized her hips and he pulled her flush against his power-built body. She moaned his name and felt his lips turn upward in a triumphant smile. His tongue wrought havoc against her lips and she parted them eagerly, he delved into the depth of her sweet mouth, his skilled tongue dueling with hers. He rolled onto his back bringing her with him, his hands never leaving her hips. She brought her hands up to his face, caressing the skin restlessly as his tongue worked wonders. His hands delved into her hair and her legs subconsciously fell to straddle him. He broke the kiss to pierce her green gaze with his cerulean one. With deliberateness about him he tightened his hands around her waist and ground his hips into hers. His eyes never left hers purposefully. The look that overcame her entire visage as his hardened cock roughly caressed her hidden nub was worth everything money couldn't buy...it was worth a stall in time. That look alone nearly set him off.

"Rocco" She moaned in a tortured tone. She wiggled her hips and he growled demandingly, holding her steady with his hands just to continue his ruthless attack. She drew in her bottom lip with her teeth as her eyes fluttered closed and her brows drew together in neediness. Her head fell forward as her hips adopted their own rate of movement; grinding into him greedily. He groaned and the sound had her reaching down to release him from his boxers and provide them both with what they wanted. He stilled her hand with his own and she whimpered in protest. He wrapped his arms around her small curvy form and suddenly she was on her back, his tall and muscular body hovering over hers. He placed his hands on either side of her head, the tension in them quite evident. He was nestled perfectly against her.

"I need you" She pleaded softly. Italian words of frustration escaped her pink lips.

"Not as much as I need you" He whispered back as he removed his boxers and brought his lips down on hers; the softness of them assailed him. He spread her legs with his own and her hands fell to his hips in anticipation. He trailed eruptive kisses down her neck and between her breasts; Rita ran her hands in his hair, pulling him closer to where she wanted his lips to be. He listened in pity, and with an open kiss he drew a nipple into the hot cavity of his mouth. His tongue twirled around the sensitive bud and Rita writhed beneath him as unintelligible words left her swollen lips. He chose that moment to remind her that she was his. In a quick yet brutally intense moment he entered her to the hilt. A low moan escaped his lips, her name entangled in it. Her eyes flew open as her breaths rushed out in shallow huffs. Rocco fought to keep himself in check, staunching his need to pull back and drive into her again: into the warm, wet secure glove of satin that belonged to him and only him. He cupped the side of her face.

"Are you okay?" He asked in Italian. She nodded with a look that couldn't be described as anything else but love in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders-her fingers splayed joyously across the hot expanse of his back- and pulled him down to her, pressing her breasts against his rock hard chest as her intimate muscles involuntarily clenched around the source of her pleasure.

"Make love to me" She whispered into his ear. He needed no further instruction.

***

November 13th 2000

8:00 am

Jeremy's Residence: Guest Room

It was a soft and warm weight...not uncomfortable but certainly noticeable. She was too tired to lift her eyelids, too drawn to the peaceful sleep that claimed her to allow the weighty softness to distract her. She heard her name called by an aged yet womanly voice. Although she had only known this voice for twelve hours she could certainly picture the face of the person it belonged to, Doris.

"Kayla" Doris shook the small girl once more. Kayla's eyes fluttered open slowly and her brows furrowed in drowsy confusion. Doris smiled her trademark smile; warming and all-consuming.

"Good Morning, Cara" She said sweetly as she leaned away with an appreciating look. Doris had climbed the stairs...something she rarely did, just to wake her up. Kayla rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles and gave a faint but appreciative smile.

"Morning" She murmured; studying the two long beautiful white braids that fell to an end at Doris's waist. She could tell that at one point in Doris's youth she was gorgeous ; her skin did not have as many wrinkles as it should have had and her lips were a rosy healthy color... her chocolate brown eyes were ageless and glowing. Kayla was positive they had not dimmed with age or haggardness. She had been a happy woman and still was. The old woman rose to her feet slowly and walked towards the chest of drawers.

"I washed all of your clothing and removed the faded blood stain in your white skirt. They're all in the top drawer. I also brought up your backpack and your shoes. It's quite late in the morning you should rise and come down stairs." She smiled mischievously as she walked back to the bed and pinched Kayla's cheek "Put some meat on those sturdy bones."

It occurred to Kayla that she ought to thank Doris, she ought to tell her how no one besides Jeremy had ever done so much for her and those who did, she couldn't remember. But as her mind behooved her to do so, her throat tightened and it was as if every morsel of action in her body flooded to her hazel eyes. She knew undoubtedly that Doris could see the thankfulness in them. She prayed it was enough because speaking didn't seem likely at the moment. Doris captured her limp hand and smiled once more.

"You're welcome, bella. Come eat." She left the room at her elderly pace.

Kayla rose from the bed, brushed her teeth and washed her face being extremely careful to avoid the bruise on her cheek just below her eye. When she got back into the bed room she opened the top drawer in the chest of drawers and reached for the two small piles of clothing in it. How pathetic, her entire wardrobe consisted of about eight pieces of clothing excluding exactly three pieces of underwear that she- by hand- washed after every shower subsequently. She stuffed the clothing somewhat neatly -for Doris's sake- into her black back pack after removing her black slacks and Sacred Haven dress shirt out of the pile. She got dressed in an unavoidable haze. Jeremy was hiding something from her-whether it was frivolous or key to the mystery of his very disposition was unknown-... but regardless...he was hiding it. A part of her felt like she had no right to feel anyway about his covertness, she was, after all, indebted to him. He had killed Bruce. She closed her eyes and ran her hands over the tight dress shirt...the smooth cotton was ironically calming. Instead of putting her hair in a bun as usual she wet her hands and ran them through the wavy tresses content to leave it to consume her shoulders and hopefully her face and the bruise Bruce had left there. She grabbed the small bottle of brand-less lotion and massaged the cream over her hands and feet. After making the bed she grabbed her back- pack and slipped on her flats. She turned off the lights in the guest room. Not knowing which winding staircase to take she chose the left one whimsically and hoped to run into the kitchen

***

There was a heavy aroma of bacon, eggs and something inexplicably sweet. It was this smell that had led her to Jeremy's large kitchen. She peeked into the room to find Doris hunched over the stove, Sarah sitting at the island peeling apples and a woman -that looked to be only a few years younger than Sarah-she had never seen before, shuffling through the high crown-molded cabinets. She ran her small hands over her shirt and adjusted a strap on her Jansport before making her presence known. As soon as her eyes locked with Sarah's the woman gave a genuinely welcoming smile.

"Good Morning, Kayla" She said

"Good Morning" Kayla replied. She slipped the backpack off of her back and headed for the kitchen sink to wash her hands in hopes of helping the women with preparing breakfast.

"Serena this is Kayla" Sarah gestured with the apple-carving knife towards Serena and then Kayla. Unlike Maria, Serena seemed pleasant. She gave Kayla an amiable look and offered her hand for a genial shake.

"Nice to meet you Kayla" She said with a heavy Italian accent.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Serena" Kayla said as she dried her hand and slipped it into the woman's grasp. She studied the deep blue of the woman's eyes and the bright blonde color of her hair. With Kayla's hand still grasped in her own, Serena turned to Sarah and spoke in fast Italian. Sarah replied in the same fashion and the two women shared a laugh. Kayla bit her lip self-consciously as Serena turned her gaze towards her with a brighter glint in her eyes.

"Do you need help with anything?" Kayla directed the question in no specific direction. Immediately Sarah frowned and Serena was pushing her towards a bar stool repeatedly demanding her to sit. Doris chuckled and continued to work over whatever it was she was working on over the electric stove. She said something in Italian and Sarah shook her head disbelievingly at Kayla.

"You don't need to lift a finger, Kayla. Make yourself at home." She said, with an amused smile on her lips. Serena finally got her to sit down and concurrently handed her a peeled and halved orange.

"Eat" She implored with both hands. Kayla did what she was told guiltily, she hated feeling like a burden.

"Jeremy should be back soon." Sarah said softly as she started on another apple. Kayla's eyebrows rose and she stuttered...caught off guard by the statement.

"Oh-"

"He takes these ridiculously long morning jogs" She continued unaware of the uneasy look that graced Kayla's face.