Christina Strong - Tremere

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Praying for Forgiveness

Praying for Forgiveness

“Your guard is up, and I know why
Because the last time you saw me
Is still burned in the back of your mind
You gave me roses, and I left them there to die”

Taylor Swift – Back to December
An hour before dawn I stood on an ocean side dock, looking up at the Aurora, a yacht that would carry Frasier O’Connell and me south from San Francisco to the beach in Santa Monica where Estrea Moreno had guaranteed me I would find Jason before sunrise two days from now.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Estrea asked from beside me. “Rumor has it he was so upset when he heard about the divorce he almost took off Talon’s leg.”

Coming to the West Coast was a risk, a big one. Talon Graves had been very clear when he’d told Estrea that I was not to come to his city. As close as I planned to come to the limits of his territory, there was every chance that he’d call a blood hunt down on me. If he did that, there was no place on earth I would be safe from his vengeance. I could only hope that Jason would be receptive enough to step in, and that Graves still valued Jason’s opinion enough to listen to his friend.

“I’m out of good ideas, my friend,” I said with a sad smile. “I’m down to desperation.”

“We’ll both be desperate if Talon catches wind of this,” she replied solemnly. “Maybe you should wait until he calms down and ask again.”

I wasn’t the only one taking a risk here. If Graves found out that Estrea had helped me fly into California, let alone chartered the boat to take me south, she could be up for a blood hunt of her own.

“It’s already been too long, Estrea.” Over a year since I’d woken in Detroit with no memory of the man I loved, half a year since the divorce was final, months now since I’d gotten my memories back. “I have to do this now, or I’ll never have the courage to come to him.”

I didn’t mention Scott’s name, or the fact that he’d come to Salem in an effort to pick our relationship up where we’d left off. As tempted as I’d been to do just that, I knew that I would never be as happy with him as I could be with Jason. He’d gone back to Detroit extremely disappointed.

“Okay,” she said soothingly. “Caleb will sail down and anchor off the Channel Islands until a couple of hours before sundown. He’ll have the boat anchored off the beach by the time you wake up. Make sure you stay in the water, you don’t want to give Talon a reason to go off.”

As if my presence in California wouldn’t be enough for him to blow a gasket. “You’re sure Jason goes there every night?” I asked. This would be a wasted trip if I couldn’t see him, talk to him.

“I’m sure,” she assured me. “He visits that beach every night when his duties are over.”

I held on to her promise as I boarded the yacht, as I watched her disappear into the darkness, as the boat sailed us out of the harbor and turned south. Frasier stood with me at the rail for a while, enjoying the ocean breezes and the salt spray but not intruding on my silence. When the sky above the mountains to the east was pink with sunrise, I went below decks and fell into bed, thankful for the obliteration morning brought to me.

~*~*~*~*~

Caleb was good at his job. When I woke we were in fact anchored off a secluded private beach just north of Santa Monica.

For a moment I thought about Luke and the stories he’d told me of living in that city. I wondered if he lived there now, or if he lived further south, closer to the heart of Los Angeles. I hadn’t talked to Luke since the night I’d left Vegas. He was another man I’d turned my back on, another relationship I’d thrown away.

With an effort I forced myself to focus on where I was now. It was still hard sometimes, not to lose myself in memories of the past, but it was easier than it had been a month ago.

Quickly I dressed in jeans and a tank top, not bothering with socks or shoes that would only get in the way once I was in the water. I went on deck and stood at the rail, staring at the shore and praying that Jason would listen to what I had to say.

As it turned out, I had hours to pull myself together, fall apart, and pull myself together again. Frasier sat with me most of the time, a soothing presence at my side. Though I hated myself for it, I was glad that it had been Petor who had died when I woke. Frasier had been with me longer, had been my right hand when I needed someone to lean on from the moment he’d drank my blood.

It wasn’t until nearly three a.m. that I heard a motorcycle coming down the long road that hugged the shore. With one last look at Frasier, I slid into the thigh deep water and took a few steps toward the shore. It took an effort to remember Estrea’s words about not setting foot on the beach, but somehow I managed.

From the shadow of the boat I watched as the lone headlight slowed and pulled to the side of the road, stopping with that single light pointed toward the water. Thankfully it wasn’t pointed toward the yacht. I knew that if Jason saw me from such a distance he would never come near the water.

The tall figure of a man blocked the light for a moment as he began to walk toward the sea. I thought it was Jason, hoped that it was him, but with the distance and the way the light was I couldn’t be sure. I walked toward the beach, eager to see if it really was the man I’d come for.

My attention was drawn away by the sound of a car coming down the highway. With a sinking heart I watched as a small roadster pulled off the road next to the motorcycle and a horn rang out though the otherwise quiet night.

The man had made it halfway down the beach, and now he turned to see a woman get out of the car. Now I could see that he was wearing a dark sleeveless shirt and dark pants with something draped over his left shoulder. He had the height and build of Jason, but there were tattoos covering his arms. It looked like the sides of his head were shaved, leaving hair only along the top and back that was formed into a Mohawk.

The woman grabbed something from her back seat and closed the door, cutting off the light that had shown on her face. I hadn’t recognized her, and I still couldn’t be sure the man was Jason, so I stood in the water, watching and listening to the pair talk.

“You just getting here?” she asked as she walked toward him.

He shrugged. “Yeah. Ran into a little trouble over by the pier.”

The moment I heard his voice, I knew the man was Jason, despite how different he looked. I wanted to cry at how dead his voice sounded.

“Group of Sabbat who thought they could get in under the radar jumped me,” he continued.

She stopped close to him and reached up to touch his chin, lifting his face to the moonlight. “I can see that,” she said, giving him a once over. “Looks nasty. Why didn’t you heal that?”

He shrugged again. “Didn’t see a point.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as if she had a right to chastise him. “You know, one day you’re going to have to start giving a shit about something,” she told him, her voice full of concern.

My blood froze at his reply. “No, I don’t.”

“What if you went to Europe for a while?” she suggested almost pleadingly. “I know Graves mentioned something about you going there for him.”

I hoped she was talking about Jason going to visit Lena. Visiting the holding would be good for Jason, a place he could safely get away.

“Not gonna happen,” he replied in a voice as hard as stone. Without another word he turned and started walking toward the water again.

“Jason, wait!”

I’d taken a couple of steps closer to shore when he’d turned but stopped when she called after him. He was close enough that I could make out his face now, see the way he looked up as if rolling his eyes.

“I am not having this conversation again,” he said in a hard voice.

She reached his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to but Jason, come on, you kno—”

“Don’t!” he barked harshly, sounding very different from the man I thought I knew. He turned to face her, shrugging off her hand.

I could see her better as well, now that I was only ten feet from shore, make out that she was shapely beneath the lines of her loose jeans and her dark blouse, that the face she turned up to look at him was beautiful.

“Don’t?” she demanded, pushing him back with both hands on his chest. “What? Don’t give a shit about you?”

Although I hated the way she’d manhandled him, her actions seemed to take a bit of the edge from Jason’s face. I hated that her words had the power to soothe him.

“Come on, Michelle,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s not do this again.”

Michelle sighed heavily and ran her free hand through her dark blond hair, defeat in every line of her face. “Fine.”

Jason pulled the towel from his shoulder with one hand and reached for his belt buckle with the other as he turned away from her. “You coming?” he asked, hitching his head toward the shore without looking at the water.

She smiled a little slightly, shaking her head at him ruefully. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

I knew I should turn and go back to the boat; that I should walk out of Jason’s life and let him rebuild it without me. Michelle clearly wanted to take care of him, and he’d be better off without a woman who could hurt him so much that he ended up a shadow of the man I loved.

On the other hand, I couldn’t bring myself to leave him with this woman who so obviously loved him, especially when she was taking off her shirt.

“Jason,” I called, my voice low yet still loud enough for him to hear me over the soft sound of the waves.

His eyes came up and he froze when he saw me standing in water to my knees. Recognition, disbelief and longing flashed across his face, along with many more emotions I couldn’t read in the dim light. Then his face was a hard mask, his eyes dead and his lips a thin line. His hand held the towel in a tight fist.

Michelle looked up as well, tensing as she saw me in the water. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?” she growled, letting her body fall into a defensive position.

I didn’t want to answer her, wouldn’t have if it wasn’t clear how much she worried about Jason. At last I spoke, still looking at the man I’d come to talk to. “I am Christina—” I hesitated at the last name, but I could claim Kline no longer, “—Strong. I’ve come to apologize,” I said to Jason.

Michelle made a noise that sounded very much like a hissing cat. The sound made Jason blink and glance in her direction before putting a restraining hand on her arm.

“You must want to die,” Michelle replied coldly, obviously not letting Jason’s attempt to calm her have any effect.

I blinked slowly, taking my eyes from Jason for a brief moment to glance at her. There had been moments where I’d thought that final death would be much easier to deal with then this head full of memories and regrets. I’d spent many early mornings on a balcony watching the sky lighten until Frasier came and walked me back inside and tucked me into bed.

“At times,” I admitted after a moment. Turning back to Jason, I said. “Can we talk?”

Jason stared at me almost as if he didn’t believe I was really there, or perhaps he couldn’t believe I had the nerve to want to talk to him after all that had happened between us.

Michelle pulled her arm away from him and opened her mouth to speak, but his next words stopped her, his voice rough and low.

“Michelle, no.”

She turned to look up at him. “She shouldn’t be here,” she insisted hotly. “I know she hasn’t presented herself. Talon would have told me.”

That statement told me that this woman was Michelle Rourke, the Gangrel Sheriff of LA that Estrea had warned me to watch out for. I couldn’t have picked a worse person to run into, unless it was Graves himself. If Graves called a blood hunt, Michelle would be the first to come hunting me down.

Jason met her eyes with a blank and unreadable look. “I know,” he said in a low voice, “but she needs to talk.”

I didn’t like the way he’d said that, and it was clear by the daggers in her eyes when she looked at me that Michelle didn’t like it either. With a wave of my hand I gestured toward the distance between where I stood and the shore.

“Technically, I’m not in LA,” I said to her without taking my eyes from Jason’s face. It was hard to keep my voice even, to speak with respect when I wanted nothing more than to disrespect Graves’ boundaries and come up on that beach to stand next to the man I loved. “I haven’t set foot in LA, and I don’t plan to without the Prince’s permission.”

She ignored Jason’s meaningful look and only relented when he spoke in a whisper.

“Michelle, please.”

He sounded so vulnerable, so lost. I hated that my stupidity had drove him to this. I hated too that Michelle and I seemed to share the same thoughts. She flashed me a warning look before heading up the beach.

Jason turned back to me and we just looked at each other during the long minutes it took for Michelle to reach her car. I heard the car door open and close, but when the engine didn’t start it was clear that she wasn’t going to leave us alone. It was too much to hope that she wasn’t calling Graves, but there was nothing I could do about it.

Suddenly I wasn’t sure what to say. My eyes ran over Jason’s hair, the cut above his eye, the tattoos covering his arms, the clothing that was so much different than what I remembered. This Jason wasn’t the Jason I’d driven away from me and I wasn’t sure what I could say to this man I no longer knew. There was nothing to it but to take a breath and begin.

“I-I know there is nothing I can do to make things right, Jason,” I said in a low voice. “I-I’ve done a lot of things in the last year and a half that I regret more than I can say. I hurt a lot of people, and you most of all. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

For a long moment I thought he’d just stand there, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face, but finally he tossed the towel back over his shoulder, crossed his arms and said, “Not sure what I’m supposed to say to that.”

“You’re not ‘supposed’ to say anything,” I replied softly, trying not to let my frustration show in my voice. From the way things were going, I shouldn’t have come. “I just—I wanted—I need to tell you that I know now I shouldn’t have pushed you away, that I was wrong for—” I broke off before I could mention Scott’s name. It was better to avoid that subject altogether.

“I’m sorry for not believing you, and for the divorce,” I continued, trying not to wince at the flash of pain in his eyes before he looked away, “and everything and I’m sorry, Jason, I’m so, so sorry.” It was an effort not to break down and cry, but I wouldn’t put that on him, I’d caused him enough pain. “If I could take back every moment to when we were together in Salem I would. I hate myself for hurting you.”

“Seems that’s what we’re all about, doesn’t it?” he asked, looking out over the water toward the boat still waiting behind me. “Hurting each other.”

“No, Jason,” I protested softly, taking a couple of steps toward the beach. “It was good between us, really good.” I couldn’t stop my voice from turning bitter. “Before I fucked it all to hell.”

He shook his head ruefully. “I heard you got your memories back,” he said quietly, taking a brief glance at my face. “Is he really dead?”

“Yes,” I said in a hard voice. “I shot him through the heart. He was trying to hurt Petor.” My voice wavered on the name, and I gave a wry laugh. “I killed him too, when I woke up. It was... hard, for a while.”

He nodded but didn’t answer for a long moment. “And now?” he finally asked.

“Now,” I said sadly, “I have more sane nights than not, I guess, so in that things are getting better.” I let my eyes roam over him again, once more taking in all the changes from the man I’d once married. “I miss you.”

He closed his eyes and turned his face away if I’d struck him a physical blow. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, letting his arms fall to wrap around his middle as if to protect himself.

I nearly took a step toward him but I was so close to the beach already, only two or three strides from the shore. I knew I was pushing the ‘not in LA’ statement I’d made to the fullest extent, especially with the Sheriff sitting not far away.

“Jason, I will never be able to make up for what I did in Detroit,” I said earnestly, my voice shaking ever so slightly when he turned his back to me. “I can’t ask you to forgive me, Christ, I can’t even begin to forgive myself. What I did was wrong, and the fact that I had no idea what I was throwing away in no way excuses my behavior.” I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore Jason, but I have to say this. I want us to try again.”

He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to face me. Even his movements were different than what I remembered, stiffer, jerky, almost shrunken, as if he had pulled into himself when I’d driven him away from me that last night we’d seen each other.

At last he met my eyes and I could see that his features were smooth, his eyes dull. He cleared his voice and said just one word. “Why?”

“I love you.” It was the only reason I had for risking my life to come to him like this.

“You love me?” he scoffed, his face still unreadable but his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that what you call it?”

I couldn’t blame him for his bitterness, even hatred if it came to that. I was damn bitter too and I hated myself plenty enough for the both of us.

“It’s all I have,” I told him simply. “I will understand if it’s not enough for you, after all that’s happened. If you tell me to go, I’ll go, and I won’t come back, but I will always love you.”

“What about Scott?” he asked, his voice carefully devoid of emotion.

I took a breath and hoped my voice would be steady. “I left him in Detroit, when my memory came back. I’m sure you know I went to Salem with Brenda while I... while my mind settled. Now that it has, I came here, Jason, to you, not to Detroit.”

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And I’m still trying to figure out why,” he told me, his voice showing a bit of his frustration. “Our marriage is over, Christina. You saw to that. I know I’ve made mistakes in the past but—” He stopped for a moment and when he continued, what little emotion had been in his voice was gone. “How do we pick up the pieces?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted sadly. “Honestly I wasn’t sure I’d even get this far, between what Brenda said, and Graves. I just know that I’m willing to try, Jason.”

“What did Brenda say?”

I looked away from him for the first time since Michelle had left us. “That you would never forgive me,” I said, fighting to keep my voice level, “that I had hurt you too badly, and it was no use trying to apologize or—” a tear burned a cold path down my cheek but I made no move to wipe it away, not even when more tears followed, “—or anything because you didn’t care anymore.”

“And you came anyway?”

I looked back at him, not trying to hide the tears on my on my face. “I had to try.”

In the dim moonlight I could see a small part of the Jason I’d once known in his eyes. He was looking at me in almost the same way he had when he’d been trying to get me to forgive him for leaving me. Only his eyes had changed, the rest of him was still as stiff and unmoving as before. I tried to tell myself that the look in his eyes was a spark of hope. I was heartened by that look, but his next words nearly ripped my heart from my chest.

“You shouldn’t have.” He sounded tired, as if the effort to talk to me was getting to be too much.

“I had to come, Jason, I had to try.” I took a deep breath and tried to still my shaking hands by pressing them against my thighs. “I love you, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore. If you tell me to go, I’ll go, and I won’t come back.”

An internal struggle was clear in his eyes as he looked at me, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to stay or to go. “What about Scott?”

“I came here, Jason,” I repeated softly, “to you.”

He sighed softly. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Chris. A lot of time has passed, but you filed for divorce, not me. You were the one that ran off to help that asshole in the first place, not me. You got together with Scott, knowing that we were married. Granted you didn’t have any memories, but you knew.

“So say I say yes, that I still love you and want us to get back together,” he continued, taking a few steps closer until the water was lapping at the toes of his boots. “What if something like that happens again? I wouldn’t be able to cope with loosing you again. Hell, some would say I’m doing a shitty job of it now.”

I wanted to lie, to promise that I would stay with him forever, but I knew better. “I’d like to be able to swear that nothing will happen to come between us again, but I can’t,” I said sadly, shaking my head. “Shit has a tendency to happen to us, doesn’t it? But I’m not coping very well with losing you either, and I am willing to try.”

The low sound of an engine carried across the water and I cursed silently. It was nice to think the vehicle was just someone driving north late at night, but deep down I knew that Michelle had called Graves, and that trouble was on its way.

“Chris,” he said in such a low voice I barely heard him. Before he could say anything else he turned to look at the parking area, and I knew he’d heard the engine as well. “Shit,” he muttered, looking back at me. “You should leave.”

His words confirmed that the engine I’d heard was that of Graves’ motorcycle. I knew Jason was right, that I should go before Graves caught me, but I couldn’t leave without some sort of resolution.

“I need an answer, Jason,” I pleaded softly. “I know this has been hard on you but it’s been hard on me too, and I can’t leave without knowing if we have a chance to work things out.”

“What, you show up here and dump this on me and expect me to just have an answer right this second?” he asked, his tone almost challenging, a frown clear on his face. “That’s not how this is going to work Christina. My feelings don’t switch on and off that quickly.”

Behind him I saw the light of a motorcycle skid to a stop next to Michelle’s car. We had only moments before Graves joined us, but I couldn’t leave just yet.

“I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow, Jas,” I said urgently, “I’m just asking if there’s a chance for us. If there isn’t, if you don’t think its possible for us to eventually work things out, just tell me, I’ll go, and I’ll never bother you again, but I have to know.”

“I... I don’t know,” he whispered so softly I could barely hear him over the sounds of the surf all around us. “I’ve been doing nothing but trying to forget you—”

His words were interrupted by the clear sound of Graves’ approach across the sand.

“I need some time to think about this,” Jason told me as Graves came closer.

“I understand,” I said sadly. I wanted to press for a definitive answer, but I knew I didn’t have the right. I hoped Jason thought quickly since Graves would be on us in a moment and I knew his reaction to my presence wouldn’t be good. Technically I wasn’t in his territory, but he might not take the scant five feet that separated me from shore as being outside of his city.

I wiped at the tears on my face, unwilling to let Graves see the signs of my heartbreak. I put my hands in my pockets, both to hide the blood on my fingers and to keep them from forming into fists of frustration.

“Of all the manipulative—” Graves began darkly, stopping only when Jason turned and laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Talon, stop,” he said quietly, which made Graves glance down at him, trying to gage his emotions. “It’s okay. Let me handle this.”

Graves turned angry eyes back to me. “A boat offshore doesn’t mean I can’t call a blood hunt for not presenting yourself.”

At least he wasn’t killing me outright. “It was worth the risk,” I said honestly, not taking my eyes from the man I still loved desperately enough to risk final death for.

Leaving his hand on Grave’s shoulder, Jason looked over his shoulder at me. “You should go now. I will call you.”

I knew from the way Graves was glaring at me that he didn’t want to let me go without some form of punishment. I didn’t much want to leave either, despite the threat Graves presented to my health, but I’d pushed the situation about as far as I could have and still expect to walk away with my head intact.

“I’ll wait, Jason,” I promised him softly, “as long as I can.” Looking at Graves at last, I did my best to nod politely as I began backing toward the boat. “Graves.”

“Is your number the same?” Jason asked.

I could have recited the number, but from the look on Graves’ face I needed to be gone as quickly as possible. “I’ll have Frasier call you.”

Jason nodded before turning to Graves and pushing the other man’s shoulder to try and get him away from the water. Graves didn’t move much, keeping his angry eyes fastened on me as I continued to back away. Once the water hit my armpits, I turned and dove, swimming underwater toward the boat, trusting Frasier to watch my back in case Graves changed his mind and came after me.
For questions regarding Christina Strong/Kline aka Tina Andrews, please contact the author.