InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Confusion ( Chapter 23 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

~~Chapter 23~~
~Confusion~
 
 
 
“What about her?”
 
Gavin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shook his head. “N . . . not my type,” he muttered, tightening his grip on the cold bottle of beer in his hands.
 
Jillian stifled a sigh. “Okay . . . her?”
 
Following the direction of Jillian's curt nod, Gavin quickly lowered his eyes to the table once more. “Too short,” he grumbled.
 
`You're being entirely unfair, don't you think?'
 
Wrinkling her nose at her youkai blood's question, Jillian tried not to feel guilty as she willed her resolve to stick. `Maybe I am.'
 
`Maybe you are? You're being a bitch; that's what you `are' . . .'
 
Jillian bit her lip.
 
Okay, so she was being completely bitchy; sure she was. She knew it, just as she knew that Gavin never would have agreed to tonight's little excursion if she hadn't blocked him out all day. After having heard his hateful words the night before when he was arguing with Hank, though . . . after spending a sleepless night huddled against his side while he slept, she'd realized a few things—ugly things—things she hadn't really thought about before—at least not like she had in the night . . .
 
She's just a . . . a pup . . .”
 
That's what he'd said. After everything she'd told him, he'd said it. She laid everything out for him in black and white; told him things she'd never said to him—to anyone—before, and he . . . He'd thrown it all back in her face, hadn't he? He thought that she was little more than a child. He'd said as much . . . and that had hurt more than she could stand.
 
I want to go out tonight, Gavin,” she said quietly, her voice a controlled mask of calm as her heart hammered painfully against her ribcage. “We . . . we need to find your mate. That's what we need to do . . .”
 
Gavin had been in the middle of sorting through mail. The stack of envelopes dropped from his fingertips onto the desk, scattering like dust in the wind. “W-wh-what?” he stammered as he turned around to face her.
 
She shrugged nonchalantly, slowly lifting her chin to meet his gaze with a steadiness that should have been commended. “Your mate,” she stated once more. “You'll never find her if you're not out there looking.”
 
My . . .? Jilli . . .”
 
She frowned. Did he have to look so stricken? How dare he look like she hurt him when he was the one who had said time and again that she wasn't his mate; that he didn't want her . . . and yes, it had taken a long time for her to fully grasp that he really wasn't joking, but she finally had, and he . . . Biting back the guilt that riddled her insides, she squared her shoulders and forced a smile that she was far from feeling. “Yes, Gavin, your mate.”
 
W . . . but . . . I thought . . .”
 
Turning away before she caved in to the stricken expression on his face, she slowly, deliberately, headed for the stairs. He seemed completely baffled—he had been all day—and he sighed in a completely defeated sort of way. “She won't like me, you know,” Jillian ventured.
 
Who won't?
 
Your future mate.”
 
Why would you say that?” he demanded. “Everyone likes you . . . don't be ridiculous.”
 
Jillian had to struggle to keep her tone even. “Of course she won't, Gavin,” she insisted. “How could she? You really think that your mate will like the girl you've slept with for years?” Shaking her head slowly, Jillian swallowed hard, forcing down the thickness that choked her; that brought tears to her eyes that she blinked away. “It's okay,” she said when he didn't answer. “I . . . I don't think I'll like her much, either.”
 
He grimaced. “You think I'd . . . I'd be with someone who didn't like my friends?” he demanded though his tone lacked the conviction that it should have had. “Don't be . . . don't be ridiculous,” he grumbled.
 
It's inevitable, Gavin. We've been together for most of the last twenty years. She's going to hate me. I'd hate me, if I were her . . .”
 
Jilli . . . don't say that . . .”
 
She shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner. “So maybe . . . maybe if I help you find her . . . maybe she won't hate me quite so much.”
 
He uttered a sound—almost a gasp, a soft little grunt—and she knew that her words had struck home. She didn't dare look at him, and she steeled her resolve as she turned toward the stairs. “I'll be ready in an hour, okay? You get ready, too . . .”
 
That said, she headed out of the living room and up the stairs to change in the room. She wasn't sure whether she should be happy or hurt that he had been standing by the door having obviously showered and changed when she came back down awhile later. He'd looked completely perplexed, but he hadn't complained as they headed toward the truck . . .
 
She supposed that he just wasn't sure what to say to her. When had she ever been this determined? He was used to her joking and smiling, laughing and teasing. She'd never, ever been this . . . formal with him, not even that day when he'd found her sitting on his apartment steps in the pouring rain . . .
 
Stifling a sigh as he turned the beer bottle between his fingertips, Jillian reached up to touch her throat—to touch the butterfly pendant that's she'd always worn since the day he gave it to her. Trying not to grimace, she rubbed her arms. She'd left that necklace on her dresser in the spare room where she'd moved all of her things earlier, and if Gavin realized that she'd done it, he hadn't remarked on that, either. `Grow up, Jillian,' she'd told herself as she stared at the necklace. `He thought of me as nothing more than a little girl then, and he still does . . . nothing I can say or do will ever change that. It's time to grow up and leave the fantasies of that little girl in the past . . .' Then she'd turned her back, leaving the necklace where it was as she hurried out of the room.
 
Blinking to clear the remnants of the unpleasant memories from her mind, Jillian pursed her lips and scanned the bar once more. Eyes lighting on a decently tall woman standing near the counter with a glass of soda in her hand, she shrugged. “What about her?” she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen.
 
Gavin jerked upright as though she had startled him, and he shot her a confused glance. “Jilli . . . Why are you doing this?”
 
Deliberately ignoring Gavin's softly uttered question, Jillian started ticking things off on her fingers out loud. “She's blonde—you said you like blondes . . . tall since you'd rather have a tall woman—makes sense, doesn't it? You're tall . . . I can't really see her eyes from here, but she looks nice enough . . . and smart—she looks smart. You can't discount brains in a woman, can you?”
 
“But I . . . I . . .”
 
She tried to smile her encouragement at him. “Go on, Gavin. Now's your chance. Go talk to her. You can do it, you know. You just think you can't.”
 
He sighed. “Jilli . . .”
 
Shaking her head stubbornly, refusing to hear what it was that he wanted to say, she pinned him with a fierce scowl, and he sat back, blinking in confusion. “No . . . you have to. Don't you see? You have to do it.”
 
He shook his head. “Why?”
 
“I'll never ask you for another thing, Gavin, so long as I live if you'll just do this,” she said without trying to hide behind a coquettish smile or a falsely bright façade. Swallowing hard when he flinched, Jillian tightened her grip on her purse under the cover of the table top. “Please.”
 
“I don't . . . want . . . I . . .” Scowling across the table at her, he must have sensed her resolve. “Yeah . . . o-okay . . .” he agreed slowly. “Whatever you want.”
 
“So . . . what about her?”
 
Heaving a sigh, Gavin slowly shook his head again. “She . . . she's a-a-all right . . .”
 
“Just ask her out,” Jillian prompted, managing a weak smile that was solely for his benefit. “Go on . . .”
 
Casting her a pleading glance that she saw out of the corner of her eye despite her resolve not to look at him, Gavin finally nodded, glaring down at the table; at the rings of condensation that had dripped off the cold beer bottle. Standing up slowly, he squared his shoulders and walked away.
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
`Why is she doing this?' Gavin asked himself for the hundredth time since he'd gotten up this morning only to find Jillian gone, which wasn't unusual but was unsettling nonetheless.
 
He simply didn't understand. She didn't seem angry, exactly, but he couldn't quite make sense of her mood, either. After serving him breakfast with a wide smile, she proceeded to tell him that she wanted to go shopping—not unusual for her, either, but when they got to Helena and the mall, she'd proceeded to tell him that they were shopping for him, which really should have set the alarm bells to ringing in his head but somehow didn't.
 
No, it wasn't until they were standing in the living room while he was shifting through the day's mail that she dropped the bomb on him: she wanted him to find a mate.
 
And that . . . He sighed. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Sure, she'd been a little distant, a little too polite all day. He'd written it off as nervousness since he was suffering the same sort of thing. Coming to terms with the vast change in their relationship would take some getting used to; he knew that. Still when she said that she wanted him to look for a mate . . .
 
He'd felt as though someone had jerked the carpet out from under him, bringing him down hard on his pride, and as he'd gotten a more thorough glimpse into the steely resolve in her gaze, he didn't have any clue what do to do . . . or what he had done to trigger it.
 
`Unless she figured out that being with me really would be a huge mistake . . .'
 
Slamming the door on those thoughts, Gavin stuffed his hands into his pockets as he slowly approached the woman in question. `I . . . I can't do this . . .'
 
So why had he agreed to?
 
He knew damn well why he'd agreed to do it. For once in his life, he didn't have any clue what Jillian was thinking. Her determination was apparent—obvious. He just wished he could figure out why she was doing all of this . . . and he'd done the only thing he could do, at least until he could get her to admit what was bothering her. Add to that the absolute shock of her accurate assessment—he had to give her that. As much as he wanted to deny that any other woman might well have issues with Jillian, he had to admit that she had made a good point, and the guarded, tense air of her youki . . . it hurt even now, just remembering it . . . Going along with her . . . that really was his only recourse at the moment.
 
`She was dead damn right, Gavin. No woman would be okay with the idea that Jillian's slept with you forever—that she's always been the girl you've molded your entire existence around . . .'
 
Heaving a sigh, Gavin shook his head stubbornly, forcing his feet to move as he slowly approached the bar—and the woman. `Yeah, well, anyone who can't accept Jilli isn't someone I want to be around, anyway,' he snorted.
 
`Don't be stupid, Gavin . . . Why are you even thinking about another woman when the one we both want is sitting right there?'
 
`Sure, but . . . but why the cold shoulder? I mean, she's been acting weird all day . . .'
 
`Maybe she heard the idiotic things you said to Hank,' his youkai ventured, stopping Gavin dead in his tracks. `It makes sense, you know. Just because you thought she was asleep doesn't mean she really was, now does it?'
 
`Oh, shit,' he mumbled to himself as he turned around to look at her. Staring down at the table, she rubbed her arms in an idle sort of way. `Jilli . . .'
 
“Hey, there, cowboy.”
 
Whipping around, Gavin couldn't staunch the flow of blood that shot into his cheeks as he came face to face with the girl that Jillian had wanted him to talk to. “Uh . . . um, m-m-me?” he stammered.
 
The woman laughed. “Sure . . . I don't see anyone else around here that I'd call a real cowboy,” she said, giving Gavin a playful wink. “I'm Cicily. What's your name?”
 
“G-Gavin,” he choked out, stealing a peek over his shoulder. Jillian still wasn't looking.
 
“Why don't you buy me a drink?” Cicily suggested.
 
“Wha . . .? Oh . . . okay,” he agreed. “Sure . . .”
 
She laughed again, waving at the bartender to bring her another drink. Gavin grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do wanted to talk to this woman, and he could feel the throbbing of a massive headache starting right behind his eyes.
 
She won't like me . . . How could she? You really think that your mate will like the girl you've slept with for years?
 
And he hadn't thought of that before, either. Unfortunately, it made perfect sense. `I wouldn't . . . I'd never . . .'
 
`Of course you wouldn't because she's the one you want to have as your mate, stupid.'
 
Gavin winced inwardly as the bartender set down a drink. He dug a five dollar bill out of his pocket and slapped it onto the counter.
 
“You look like you're from around here,” Cicily commented, narrowing her eyes as she regarded him carefully. “But I swear I don't remember seeing you before . . .”
 
“I, uh . . . I live in New York City, but I'm from here originally,” he supplied.
 
Her smile widened as her gaze traveled slowly from his face down and back up once more. He couldn't hide the blush that stained his features at the blatant perusal, and all told, he felt like a side of beef being shown at auction . . . “Vacation?”
 
He nodded, stealing another glance over his shoulder. Jillian was rummaging around in her purse, and he grimaced when he noticed the decidedly melancholy tone in her youki. Radiating from her in somber waves, he could tell she was trying to hide her emotions, and that hurt him more than anything else could. “Yeah . . . vacation,” he murmured, forcing his gaze away from Jillian once more.
 
“Are you going to be around here much longer?” she pressed.
 
“Oh, uh . . . I-I-I don't know . . .”
 
She laughed in such a way that told Gavin plainly that she thought his stammering was all part of the pick-up line. “Well, maybe I can see you again before you leave to go back to the big, bad city . . .”
 
He opened his mouth to answer as he glanced over at Jillian again. She wasn't at the table anymore. Skirting the edge of the milling crowd, she was trying to slip out the door unnoticed. “Can you excuse me?” he said, grimacing apologetically and not waiting for a reply as he hurried after Jillian.
 
He caught up with her outside on the sidewalk. Arms crossed over her chest, shoulders slumped forward in what seemed to be a purely protective manner, she was scanning the street as though she were expecting someone. “Jilli?” he said, reaching out, catching her elbow and gently pulling her around to face him. “W-where are you going?”
 
Sniffling softly, she dashed a hand across her eyes, likely hoping that he wouldn't notice, and when she looked up at him, she had an overly bright smile in place. “Oh, you . . . you looked like you were doing well enough without me,” she said, waving a hand in a dismissive manner as the smile on her face widened; as her eyes took on a suspect glow. Glittering in the harsh lights of the electric street lamps like a thousand diamonds misting her eyelashes, she smiled despite the tears in her eyes . . . tears that tore him wide open . . .
 
“Don't—but—Wait, will you?” he said, tugging her back when she tried to pull her arm away. “Jilli, tell me what's wrong?”
 
She laughed. The sound grated on him, rubbed him raw as she tried to convince him that she was all right. “Don't be silly, Gavin . . . Everything's fine; just fine.”
 
“You can't just leave by yourself,” he insisted. “I'll . . . I'll take you home, if you want.”
 
She shook his head, barking out a terse laugh that made him grimace. “No, no . . . you . . . you need to get back inside and ask her out.” Narrowing her eyes, she shot him a fleeting smile that melted as quickly as it had quirked her lips. “I'll be okay . . . I called Hank . . .”
 
As if on cue, Gavin glanced up in time to see Hank's rusty, faded red pickup truck pulled to a stop beside them. Jillian pulled her arm away and ran over to the vehicle, and he stood, glued to the spot, unable to do more than watch as she tugged at the handle—Hank leaned over to release the door—and climbed inside. She really was slipping away from him, wasn't she? She . . . she was walking away again . . . “Don't you come back without a date, Gavin Jamison!” she called, her voice cracking as her smile resurfaced. She waved jauntily before turning to say something to Hank. The ranch foreman nodded, the truck's gears grinding as he shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb.
 
Gavin wasn't sure how long he stood there watching the road where they'd disappeared from view. Jostled slightly as people wandered into and out of the bar, he couldn't stand the surging pain that threatened to engulf him. If he could understand why she was doing this, maybe he could come to terms with it. The trouble was, he couldn't, and the feeling that he'd gambled and lost nearly choked him.
 
Don't you come back without a date, Gavin Jamison . . .”
 
He winced. `Just what the hell does she want from me?'
 
For once, his youkai remained conspicuously silent, and after a few more minutes, he slowly turned and pushed back into the bar . . .
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
Expelling his breath in a loud hiss, he flopped back in his chair with a frustrated growl. She was still toying with him, damn it. It didn't sit well with him, either—she and that overstuffed shirt that she'd taken to spending way too much time with . . .
 
Pushing himself out of his chair, he strode over and sloshed whiskey into a grimy glass, downing the liquor and refilling it before stumbling back to his chair once more. Anger simmered just below the surface, and he drained the glass then slammed it down on the table. She was forcing his hand, damned if she wasn't. Two could play that game, couldn't they?
 
Well, it wouldn't be happening much longer, would it? She was out of time, he was out of patience, and she'd learn that playing with him just wasn't a good idea, wouldn't she? He had everything planned out, but first he needed a few more things to set his plot into motion. Shoving himself to his feet once more, he grabbed the gloves off the table and strode toward the door . . .
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
“You want to go back to the ranch?” Hank asked as he pulled away from the curb in front of the bar.
 
Jillian watched as Gavin grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Uh . . . no . . . could you just . . .” she trailed off with a sigh, blinking furiously to keep her tears in check. “Would you mind just driving . . . anywhere?”
 
She could feel his gaze on her though she didn't look to verify it. “Okay,” he agreed. “Whatever you want, Jilli.”
 
She tried to smile at him but failed when more tears filled her eyes but didn't spill over. Concentrating on keeping herself from crying, she turned her attention out the window and stared at the illuminated town streets.
 
“You tell Gavin that you were awake last night?” Hank finally asked, his tone gentle and his eyes fixed on the road.
 
Jillian drew a deep breath, letting her temple rest on the door frame. “No.”
 
He sighed. “Yeah, I didn't think so.”
 
She shrugged. “I've always been a little slow on the uptake, I guess,” she admitted quietly.
 
“No . . . Gavin's just stupid,” Hank replied.
 
“No, he's not,” she said automatically. So used to defending Gavin that it had become second nature, she couldn't help the surge or irritation that Gavin's so-called friend would turn on him behind his back. “Gavin's not stupid,” she went on. “He's unbelievably smart! He graduated with honors, you know, and he just got that promotion at work! He's not stupid! He—”
 
“He's damn stupid when it comes to you,” Hank clarified. “Book smart don't mean shit when all he ever does is hurt you.”
 
Snapping her mouth closed on her retort, Jillian sighed, deflating a little in the face of Hank's obvious calm. “He doesn't hurt me on purpose,” she said.
 
“But he still hurts you.”
 
Jillian didn't respond to that. Trying not to think about her Gavin, walking back into that bar to ask that girl on a date was hard enough . . .
 
“There's a saying my dad told me when I was just a cub,” Hank went on as he turned off on the road that ran around the perimeter of the lake. “`A wolf will do what a wolf will do. You can either let him keep doing it, or you can kill him.”
 
Jillian didn't reply to that, either. Everything kept looping in on itself in her head, over and over until she felt as though she was going to scream. Not even the sight of the moon reflecting off the water soothed her, and she had to wonder if she would ever feel like smiling again. “I don't know how to be without him,” she admitted softly as a tear spilled over to course down her cheek. “I never have.”
 
“Jilli . . .”
 
She sniffled and sighed, wishing that the soothing air could make her forget, even if it was only for a moment. “You know, I remember . . . Everyone else treated me like a baby for so long . . . Bas and Daddy . . . Mama . . . Belle . . . even Evan sometimes, but Gavin . . . He'd listen. I never thought . . . I never thought that I'd ever have to tell him goodbye . . .”
 
Hank digested that in silence. “Is that what you have to do?”
 
Wiping a tear away with the back of her hand, Jillian nodded as the first crack in her composure widened. “I . . . I think I do.”
 
“Is that what this is all about? You making Gavin go on a date?”
 
Jillian nodded. “I guess so. I realized last night, you know? I can't—” Breaking off for a moment, she took the kerchief Hank offered her and wiped her eyes. “I can't do it. I can't move on if I know that he's still available . . . so long as I think that maybe . . . maybe . . .”
 
Hank shook his head. “Aw, Jillian. He's a damn fool.”
 
“He's not. He's always been honest with me. I'm the fool, Hank, always just two steps behind . . .”
 
Hank sighed and shook his head, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “He said that he doesn't deserve you. I'm starting to think that he might be right.”
 
“It's not about deserving someone,” she muttered. “It's about loving them.”
 
“I know. I agree.”
 
“You can take me back to the ranch now,” she said with a sigh. “Tell me something?”
 
“Anything.”
 
She managed a weak little laugh. “What time is it?”
 
Hank glanced at her quickly then held up his hand, holding in the button on the side of his watch so that he could check the time. “A little after midnight. Why?”
 
“After midnight,” she repeated. “Could you stop at that gas station?”
 
“Sure.”
 
He pulled into the parking lot, and she hopped out of the truck without a word. Hank waited for her, which was fine. She knew exactly what she was after. After a curious look from the cashier, she paid for her purchase and hurried out of the building. Hank opened the door for her, and she climbed back inside.
 
Pulling open the twin pack of chocolate cupcakes, she dug a safety candle out of the box she'd bought and stuck it in the middle of one cake before offering it to Hank. “Here.”
 
He stared at the cake for a moment, shaking his head in confusion. “What's this?” he asked, holding the cake in one hand as he turned onto the highway that led back to the ranch.
 
She shrugged, staring at the other cupcake in her hand though she made no move to eat it. “It's my birthday,” she whispered.
 
“Happy birthday!” Hank said, his voice more hearty than it should have been, and she knew that it was solely for her benefit.
 
Her wan smile faltered as a teardrop fell onto the crusted over icing on the cupcake in her hand. “Gavin and I do this every year,” she said. “He never forgets . . . Never.” She choked out a little laugh just before her face crumpled into a pained contortion. “One year,” she forced herself to say, “we ran around for an hour or more, just trying to find these stupid cupcakes. We couldn't find any. I swore it was a conspiracy.” Hank chuckled, and Jillian rasped out another laugh. “He bought those Sno-Ball things—you know, with the colored coconut? They sort of look like earmuffs . . . they were pink . . .”
 
“Maybe you should save this cupcake for him?” he suggested quietly.
 
She shook her head, wincing as the pain in her chest threatened to shatter her completely. “He didn't remember this year,” she whispered. “He didn't remember . . .”
 
Hank sighed again, unable to think of anything to say that might help her feel better, she supposed. The silence was welcome, though, and she swallowed hard, fighting back the agonizing ache.
 
Jillian turned her attention back out the window, closing her eyes as the fabricated wind hit her tear-dampened cheeks. She felt like that seventeen year-old girl all over again, but this time it was so much worse. Walking away from him back then had been the single, most difficult thing she'd ever, ever done, and somehow she knew, didn't she? Leaving him now would even harder, because leaving him now . . .
 
It had to be forever.
 
 
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A/N:
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Reviewers
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leeksandmisosoup:
Oh, Jilli, why won't you listen to Gavvie? Sigh, women... (I'm a woman, hehehe). I was wondering where the sneak peek about Morio and Meara was. I can't seem to find it, so can you help me, please? And I'm sorry, I completely forgot to say thank you for helping me with the Family Tree (I still made one, but in Japanese). And is there going to be a Purity fanfic about Mikio and any of Rin's kids? Arigatou gozaimasu to ganbatte on your next and all chapters as well as your stories! And I really can't wait that long for Gunnar's story... Mata Atode, leeksandmisosoup!
 
http://suericfanfics.forumsplace.com/is the url. Just paste it into your browser address bar.
Firstly, you have to be a member of the forums to access most any of the boards there, so if you're not registered, you'd have to do that before you can access any of them, buuuuuuuut … After registration, look in the Sueric Fanfiction forum. There are all the threads that pertain to the stories, including Morio's (His is labeled MORIO in the title), as well as teasers for Evan's story, Mikio's story, and Gunnar's stories. There are no plans on doing any stories on Rin's children.
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MMorg
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Forum Reviews
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Final Thought fromHank:
That damn fool idiot
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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Shameless): I do not claim any rights to InuYashaor the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.
 
~Sue~