When The Rain Falls

CHAPTER 17

Amelia cleaned out the last coffee pot, staring at the ground in the trash. It was her and Brendan that night, a shy new kid, at least five years younger than her, who seemed to blush a lot. He had dark hair and green eyes, bright and full of hope, something she wished she had seen in the mirror. The new girl, Emily, was on maternity leave and wouldn’t be back for three months. Brendan was there helping out before he went off to Trinity. He was such a nice kid, and that’s what always stopped her. He was a nice kid. He was kept at arms length like anyone else was now. Lesson learned.

It had been over two months now since she left the Fraser household. Ainsley and Fiona, she missed desperately, and Callen even more. She hated how she ached in the mornings without his furnace of a body keeping her warm, and hated waking up alone even more. Yet each day, minuscule by minuscule, the pain lessened, until a full eight weeks passed and she could finally sleep without crying.

She was an i***t. A full blown i***t to think she could have a normal life. Not when she fell in love with a man whose heart was too broken to love her back completely.

Not when her normal life could be ruined in seconds.

Not when she would have to grab her belongings and run.

Jules didn't press for an explanation when she called him twenty minutes before the cafe opened, and asked him if she could cab ride back there and stay at the apartment for the weekend. He understood, and instead of a cab he asked Graham to open, and just took her to the apartment she loved and told her she was not going to a hostel. Ever. She was very grateful for that. Making the place like home again was a challenge accepted, but she did it. And now she regretted ever leaving it. Cold windy nights like this made her glad to have her own place, her own room, and a place to finally call a home.

Just with no Ainslee, Fiona, or Callen.

Something she was barely getting used to, but still missed all the same.

Setting the coffee pot down, the door jingled, but didn’t close. Without turning, she called out. “Evening, what would you like?”

Silence. She was about to turn around until she smelled it. The cologne that mixed with only his skin that well. Without facing him, she hung her head and closed her eyes.

“Why are you here Callen?” She asked the empty coffee pot in front of her.

She heard him take a deep breath and exhale it before speaking. “I’d like a coffee, Amelia.”

Annoyed at how she missed how her name sounded on his lips, she began to brew a fresh pot, slamming buttons viciously before walking to the pastry case. Pulling out a dozen holes and some shortbreads, she shoved them in a separate bag and set them on the counter. He had to have known she was ten minutes from closing. He knew she was cleaning up at this exact minute so she could get some rest. He knew this place better than she did at times.

When she set the pastries on the counter, Callen cleared his throat. “Cheese Danish. Thanks.”

She flinched. She knew his order by soul. He hated danishes. Of any kind. The girls liked the donut balls. So it definitely wasn’t for him.

Carefully grabbing the danish, she dropped it into the bag and set it with the rest of them, setting it with the rest of his order. She walked back to the coffee pot, and waited until it filled. It was only halfway at this point.

“You look well." She heard him say. Not once had she turned to see if she could say the same. Remaining quiet, she heard him let out a breath. “Least you can do is look at me Amelia.”

“I’d rather not.” She said curtly.

“You’ll have to when I pay.”

“It’s on the house.” She pressed the machine, and the coffee stopped. She turned to grab a cup and his hand gently covered her wrist.

“You didn’t cash your last cheque.” She could feel his closeness, and her heart hurt. “Why?”

“Because it was for thirty thousand pounds, and that’s not even close to what I was supposed to be paid.” She pulled her hand away and grabbed a cup, filling it to the brim. "I just haven't had time to send it back with Jules."

.“You need the money, Amelia,” Callen said softly. “Consider it a bonus.”

“I don’t need the money,” Amelia said softly. She placed a lid on top of the cup and slid it on the counter. "And I left the last bonus you gave me with you."

"My other question, Amelia, why didn't you take the dress with you?"

"I have no where to wear such a thing." She spoke with a slight hitch to her voice as her throat burned. "You can give it to Arya. I don't need any bonuses from you."

“Then what do you need?” Callen took a sleeve and wrapped it around the base.

“I told you. To be left alone.” She finally turned to look at him, and her breath caught in her throat. He looked tired, so tired. Worn down. Showing his age. His eyes still remained ice blue, and his dark hair looked as if his hands had run it ragged. Stubble tickled his cheeks and chin, his lips turned down in a permanent frown. It was when he first met her, he looked this way. In his officers uniform, dark and foreboding. Except he was angry then.

Now all she saw was despair. Sadness. A melancholy aura of complete and utter defeat.

Don’t give in, she told herself.. “Callen, why are you really here? Jules said-"

“I don’t give a damn what the old man said.” He replied, interrupting her. "I wanted to see you, and if I want to f*****g see you, I'll f*****g see you."

Amelia stared at him, keeping her face as still as stone as regret washed over his features. Breaking the silence, she crossed her arms and asked “How are the girls?”

“Fiona doesn’t understand.” He took a small sip from his cup. “She keeps asking for you. She doesn’t acknowledge Arya.”

“Ainslee?”

Callen hesitated, opening his mouth, then closing it. Amelia narrowed her eyes and turned to face him fully.

“Ainslee? What about Ainslee?”

“She refused to… She moved in with her gran.” Callen looked away, his face remorseful. “She won’t speak to me or her mum. Her gran won’t pass her the phone, and told me to stay away until she settles. I haven’t seen nor spoken to her in a month.”

Amelia’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide. “Callen, I’m so sorry.” She said softly.

“Yep. Well. Yeah.” He took a long hard look at her. “It’s just been me for so long. Now it's me and their mum.”

“Ah. So she moved in officially. Was used to her just kind of coming and going.” Amelia nodded sagely, looking at the addition to his normal order. “I’m assuming that’s when Ainslee moved out.”

“Yes. Called her Gran, and begged her to stay with her in her spare room. Course me mum comes haulin' arse when it comes to me girls.” Callen’s face softened, and he looked at the counter. "She was gone b'fore I got home from work, with Arya wringing her hands on the sofa, cryin'"

She hung her head and looked away. “I’m sorry Callen. That sounds terrible. Of all things, I didn't expect Ainsley to just up and go.”

“I assume asking you to come back is overstepping. Just know the option is there.” He stood still for a minute. “Ainslee would come back if you did.”

“Ainslee wouldn’t have left if you hadn’t let Arya come home.” Amelia leaned on the counter, staring at him and shaking her head. “You need to forget about me, Callen.”

He looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean it.” Amelia said softly. “You were right. About everything.”

“No, I’ve never been wrong more.” Callen interjected. “It’s been difficult, Amelia. Without you.”

Amelia held up her hand. “We would never have worked. Not when we’re being chased by ghosts we can’t exorcize.”

Callen shook his head. “My ghosts were never going to leave Amelia. Arya would have been a part of our lives. No matter what.”

“Wasn’t talking about yours honey," She said softly. “We wasted time thinking ahead like that. We f****d up Callen. We can’t go back.”

“If we can act like adults, we can surely at least go back to being friends.” He looked stricken. “I miss that most of all, Amelia. Why can’t we go back to that?”

“Because all the good things in my life end, Callen.” Amelia shook her head and her eyes gave him a cold stare. “We wouldn’t have made it. Friendship or otherwise."

“Wait Amelia.” He said. Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Two months ago you were talking about having a future with me. A life. Now you’re saying there wasn’t a chance? Regardless of what we would have done, we didn’t have any chance at a relationship? A friendship? Why?”

“Callen,” Amelia replied, her voice a warning. "You should leave."

“If Arya hadn’t come back into the picture, I wouldn’t have ended it. Ended us. The romantic side anyway.” His brow furrowed as his mind went haywire. “But you’re acting… As if you would have to. But that makes no sense, Amelia.”

She let out a breath between gritted teeth, and clawed her palms. He was too close. “I think you should leave Callen."

“I asked you a question ages ago.” He looked at her carefully now, reading her face. The more she looked at him, the duller her eyes became. Shuttered. Closing him off. “I’m going to ask about it again. Amelia, what ghosts are you running from?”

“I’m not running from mine, Callen.” She said simply. “I’m running from yours.”

Callen Fraser was a cop. He was also a perceptive man who remembered everything. A memory of stone, he was called, because anything he was around was etched into it. And it was etched in his mind every waking second he had with her. Every moment. Every touch. Everything she had ever said and her reactions to what he had asked. Including when she was lying to him.

Like she was now.

He took out his wallet, and set down a £20 note. Taking his bags from the counter, his eyes never left hers. “I know why you’re saying that. Swaying the conversation to me. I know you’re running, Amelia. From something. Someone, perhaps.”

She winced. Finally. A crack in her ice-like face.

He went for it.

“You never told me you were a virgin. You never told me you were rendered unable to have children. Any information I received from you I had to rip from your bones. You never told me about your past. At all.” Callen stared at her, and watched as the ice was melting away, her face breaking. “You would have told someone this if you saw a true future with them, Amelia. Someone you’re in love with.”

Clink. Crack. Chip away at the ice.

“But you never did.” He took the coffee cup from the counter. “So I will ask you once more, Amelia. What are you running from?”

With tears in her eyes, Amelia turned away. “Please go Callen, I-"

"There are only two ways that this is resolved, and one of them being the truth. Amelia," He walked as close to her as he could without jumping over the ledge. "You're either lying about being in love with me, or you're running away. What is the truth, Amelia?"

"The truth? I never loved you." She said back.

"The fact you're tearing up like a child denied her favorite toy proves to me that's a lie." Callen slammed his cup on the counter, spilling some of the coffee on his hand. He ignored the burn. "So tell me the truth, Amelia, and stop being a petulant fool!"

She opened her mouth to lash out at him just as viciously when a loud ring interrupted their talk. Callen watched as Amelia’s eyes widened and she frantically reached into her apron, pulling out her phone. “Hello? Daniella?”

He overheard another person speaking on the other line in another language he quickly recognized as Italian. The confusion written on Amelia’s face confirmed she was unable to understand. “H-Hello? What? I’m sorry I don’t speak Italian, I-"

“Amelia, give me the phone,” Callen said sharply. She gave him a pointed glare. He rolled his eyes. “I’m fluent in Italian, just give me the phone.”

Carefully she handed him the phone, and he pushed the receiver on the speaker, letting her hear. “Questo Callen Fraser della polizia scozzese. Qual è la tua attività?”

“Stiamo cercando di localizzare Amelia Richards. Lei è presente?”

“Sì hai a disposizione un madrelingua inglese? Se no posso tradurre.” Callen frowned, and looked at Amelia. She was a statue, unblinking.

“Sei una famiglia?”

“No, sono la polizia.” He looked at her. “He asked if I was family.”

“Ottimo. Questo telefono è stato trovato su una donna deceduta fuori Verona. Questo è il numero più composto. Abbiamo bisogno di assistenza per identificarla. Il corpo è morto di recente. Ha delle foto nel suo telefono che sono sue. La persona può identificarla in base alla foto?”

Callen frowned, and watched Amelia carefully. He decided to omit some truths. “They found this phone on someone. They just want to know who they are.”

Amelia nodded, and stood silent. Callen turned back to the call.“Sono sicuro che sarà in grado di farlo. Si prega di inoltrarli a questo numero.”

“Sì, naturalmente. È già sottoposta all'autopsia. Per favore, concedici un minuto per fornire la decenza del defunto.”

“Ovviamente.”

Callen looked at Amelia. She was chewing her nail and hugging herself. “What did they say? Callen who are they?”

“It’s the Italian Police. They found this phone on a woman outside of Verona.” He told her. “Weren’t you speaking to someone in Italy a bit ago?”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh my God. My sister.”

Callen stared at her, until her phone buzzed in his hand. He took a look down and swallowed. There lay the body of a deceased woman, a fresh corpse, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape. Half her head was shaved, with intricate tattoos adorning one side, and lip piercings showing more ferocity than class, like Amelia’s did. Her skin tone was a dark olive, and he figured she was a majestic beauty when she was alive. Coal black hair on one side of her head framed the same jawline Amelia had. Her arm was adorned with a sleeve of lined tribal sketches, some filled, down to her finger tips. Eyes like almonds, even in permanent sleep.

He bit his lip. Amelia had said her sister was part Hindi, and if Amelia was mixed this way, she would definitely have taken on this look. “Amelia, I need to warn you. The person was deceased. There are some photos of her, but they need to identify the body and confirm if it's hers. What is your sister's name?”

Her breath became heavy and her body began to shake. She seemed to hesitate before she spoke to him. “Daniela Lancome. Callen, is it her?”

He looked at her with the same stone gaze he gave to anyone. He looked back at the photo and compared them. Definitely related.

“Callen, don’t you dare go quiet on me.” She snapped. “Show me the picture!”

Callen looked at her, and handed her the phone. “Is that her?”

Amelia took the phone with shaking fingers, and looked at the screen. Her scream filled the entire café, as did the thundering sound of a broken heart when she collapsed to her knees. Callen rushed behind the counter and gripped her hard, and she hugged him back so strong his ribs hurt.

He took the phone from her and spoke back into it, his Italian quick in confirming the identity of the person on the cold table, and another conversation was had.. He gave the officer his information and quickly hung up, setting her phone down and pressing her head into his chest.

“Amelia, what can I do?” He whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her head. “Please Amelia, how can I help?”

“No!” She yelled at him, and began shoving him away. “Get away from me!”

Instead of letting her go, Callen gripped her tighter. “Amelia, stop! There’s more they said to me-"

“SARA!” She wailed, and grabbed her shoulders. “Oh God, why, why?!”

“Amelia, I need to take you upstairs. I’ll call the old man.” He swallowed the rock in his throat. “I’ll stay with you tonight. I’ll call me mum to watch the girls with Arya.”

“I said no!” Amelia screamed at him loudly. She pushed with all the strength she had left, and flung herself on her backside, away from him. “Leave! Just leave me alone!”

Callen stared at her, feeling his own heart break. He watched her curl into an upright fetal position and bury her face in her knees. Her entire universe crashed around her, her emotional walls torn asunder, and yet even at her worst, she didn’t want him.

Callen pulled out his phone and dialed Jules' number.

-----

Jules stroked her hair while she slept, weeping in her dreams. He stared down at her, and shook his head. Almost a year ago, he hired her for his café, knowing nothing about her except that she was freshly off the plane, ready to make a new life, and always able to make even the grumpiest person leave with a smile. He knew nothing about her life until he did some work of his own, and found out far more about her than he could ever have fathomed.

Yet he kept silent about it. Letting her rebuild. Convincing her he was a safe haven. While he had never had children of his own, he’d come to love her like one. And his desire to keep her safe was worth more than any of her past discretion.

He left her door open, and went into the living room, where the other man sat. He brought Callen his coffee and set the pastries the man bought in front of him. Callen sat on the sofa, and stared at the coffee in front of him, unable to meet Jules’ eye. Jules stared at him, a mixture of pity and anger crossing his face, as he decided which route his emotions needed to take.

“Normally I would be angry at ye Callen.” He said, his voice a low drum in his chest. “But if ye weren’t there, she’d never have figured out what was going on with her sister.”

Callen nodded, and looked towards the bedroom where she lay, sprawled over her bed in a coma-like induced state. “What did you give her, old man? She’s out like a light.”

“A cocktail of Benadryl, night nurse, and melatonin.” Jules shrugged. “She doesn’t take those meds well. She metabolizes them quickly. So they aren’t gonna last long. You may want to head out sooner rather than later.”

Callen looked up at Jules. He had never thought about that, just assumed he’d be there when she rose. “I’d like to stay til she wakes up old man.”

“Normally, I’d tell you to f**k off, but you were a big help, Callen.” Jules shook his head. “What were ye doing here anyway? I texted ye and told ye she was gonna be working.”

He tore his eyes from the sleeping woman and sipped his coffee. “I know. But it’s been two months. Was hoping… I don’t know. Hoping we could still be friends.”

“Friends? Ye kinda scorned her.”

“I know. I just had hope, Jules.” Callen sighed. “I just wanted to see if there was a chance. I miss her. Me girls miss her. It’s a wreck at home. Ainslee’s at her grans. Me wife is trying, but it’s not working. Fiona never did speak much, but now she’s mute.”

Jules grunted. “The girls need therapy or something, Callen.”

“Yes, so do Arya and I.” He drank a large gulp of his coffee. “She’s thinking it’ll go back to before. Just a snap of her fingers and poof. The past four years are gone. She'd resume being their mum and they’d obey her.”

“Arya’s always been a scatterbrained buffoon,” Jules said. “She’s always had the fairytale wish of being a kept housewife. Which is why when you were at the firm she was happy. You rarely took work home and you all had an extravagant lifestyle. But you had a calling, Callen. Something different needed ye more than Arya needed another diamond. You had to take it, Callen. Or you’d have hated yourself.”

Callen nodded. “Ay. Just wish she saw it that way. Just wish someone saw it that way.”

“Do ye now?” Jules leaned close to him, and c****d an eyebrow. “The lass in the bedroom now who’s gonna stir awake any minute now, she saw it. She fell head over heels for it. And in her blasted idiocy she fell for you. But ye didn’t seem to think it was that important now, did ye?”

Swallowing another drink from his cup, Callen stared at the floor. “I don’t know old man. I know I messed up. But I don’t know if it was with Amelia or Arya.”

“Why’s that?”

“There’s more to her, Amelia, I mean. I knew she had a sister. And I know she has a brother.” Callen looked at Jules, his brow forming a line on his forehead. “I asked her about her family. Why didn’t she tell me about the baby?”

Jules frowned. “She doesn’t have a baby. Why do you say that?”

“No. The last thing the Italians told me, was that the baby had been cut out of her sister.” He leaned back. “Daniela was pregnant, and far enough along, apparently, that her hips had started spreading, her organs moved around, readying for her to give birth. Why didn’t Amelia tell me about that?”

“Because I didn’t know.” A choked sob came from the bedroom. Callen snapped his head and turned to the bedroom. Amelia stood against the doorframe, her legs crossed over one another, gripping the wood siding like a lifeline. She almost fell, her mind in a haze. “Daniela was pregnant?”

Callen stood and rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. “That’s what the Italians said. You didn’t know? About the baby?”

“No! If I did I wouldn’t be here!” Amelia tried shoving Callen off, but gave up. Instead she grumbled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “f**k it. Take me to the sofa please?”

Gladly, he grabbed her legs and pulled her close to his chest. Walking to the sofa, he laid her down carefully, then lifted her legs and sat underneath them. Amelia raised her hands and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes.

“I can’t believe she’s gone. I can’t believe she was pregnant.” Amelia began weeping again and she sat up, looking around. “I need to head out there. Jules, I need to book a flight. Could you hand me my phone?”

Jules nodded, and grabbed her phone from the other end of the sofa. Callen watched her as she stared at her screen, eyes leaking, her mouth set in a thin line.

“Amelia, I can pay for the ticket.” He said softly, gently running his fingers along her calf.

“No.” She looked down at her phone, pressing some flights.

“Amelia, if you would just cash the check I gave you-"

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she set her phone down, and stood up, going back to her bedroom. She came out with a familiar envelope, and set it next to him. “I don’t need your money, Callen. And consider my last time a freebie.”

He stared at the envelope, and put it in his pocket. “Okay.” He stood up from her sofa and nodded to Jules. Turning back to Amelia, he took a chance and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a tight, hard hug. “I can help you. I know I’m your least favorite person right now, and I want that to change. But don’t go without it because I was a f*****g fool, Amelia.”

Callen pulled away and stared at her, his hands now gripping her shoulders. He reached into his pocket and gave her the envelope back. “Take it. It’s a gift. I don’t want it anymore than you do and you’ll find it more useful than I would.”

“Callen-"

“Stop it. Just take it. If you don’t, I'll just deposit it in an account for you and give you the damn card, Amelia, just let me help you!” He shouted the last words, and her face went blank, in shock. He cleared his throat and let her go, staring at the ground.

“I’ll be going now.” He turned to Jules and said “I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

Callen didn’t say another word when he walked out the door.

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