sarkattack
Cadet
A/N
Okay, When I chose my pen name, I knew that eventually, I would write a Sark fic. Now, here it is. Don't get me wrong, I'm a true Sydney/Vaughn shipper but I think it's time that Sark gets in due. Hope you will give this story a try. Thanks.
CJ
Summary:
He had it all...Wealth, fame, success. But the emptiness aching inside him wouldn't subside. Watching TV coverage of Rachel Gibson's upcoming wedding, Julian Sark marveled at how she'd changed from the wild, free spirit he'd loved to the cool, proper socialist her powerful family had made her. But now, he had to see her again, and even her family couldn't stop him. Because if that boy whose hand she was holding wasn't the image of Julian at age five, he'd eat his Oscar!
Prologue
Maybe everybody was right after all. Maybe Julian Sark was too wild and too passionate and too damned stubborn for his own good.
Whatever.
Julian was too scared about Rachel to care one way or another.
The weather was a blustery and uncertain as his foul mood. It was raining intermittently. Every so often, , the moon would break out from its wispy cover and put a stop to the nonsense.
Julian was damn driving like a demon from hell. His knuckles shone like bright white bones as he whipped the steering wheel to the right and served his daddy’s battered Chevy onto the web hospital drive.
Massive and ink-black, the rectangular building looked as forbidden as a prison as it looked in stark relief above a black fringe of live-oak trees and was backlit by that violent, moon-dark, Texas sky.
Rachel was in there, somewhere…maybe dying.
Hi gut cramped in sick, demoralizing fear. Her powerful family would stop at nothing to keep him from seeing her.
Let them try.
He slammed on the brakes, get out of the car he’d taken without permission and ran, heedless of the soft rain that had begun to fall again, uncaring that he’d left the door wide open and the headlights blazing into the empty blackness like twin cones.
With a callused brown hand, he shielded his eyes against flashing red and white lights of an ambulance. More sirens screamed from the distant interstate, jarring him in his panicky confusion as he raced toward the E.R. entrance.
His mouth twisted when he spotted the same scowling deputy who’d all but accused him of killing Ben a week ago. Ben, his best friend; Ben, Rachel’s brother. Ben, whose lifeless head he’d cradled in his lap. Ben, whose grave he’d visited less than an hour ago to plead for for forgiveness.
Nod. Smile at the uniformed jerk. Stay cool.
Julian shot the officer a tense grin that must have passed muster. Then he shouldered his way through the sliding glass doors like a surly outlaw.
Inside, heads swirled as rain dripped off his blonde hair. He slicked the thick stuff back, out of his scaling eyes. A pretty teenager gasped coyly and then gave him one of those fluttery smiled all the girls gave him. He saw her father’s hand clench warningly on her slim shoulder and draw her out of Julian’s path.
Half boy, half man, Julian moved too fast, as if he hadn’t quite grown to his long, lean, rugged body. Still, he was hunky and gorgeous. His voracious sex appeal made him suspect with all parents and teachers, and with any other guy his age who had a girlfriend.
“You’re every teenage girls’ dream lover and every daddy’s worst nightmare, “Coach Howard had teased him when he’d been voted Most Handsome in high school.
“When I was your age I had pimples. I envy the hell out of you, kid. Looks like yours will open all sorta of doors.” The coach added with a smile.
Behind a cluttered desk a nurse ignored a stack of charts and blinking lights on her phone and licked pizza crust off her fingers.
But she couldn’t ignore him.
No women ever could, especially if he smiled.
But when he tried, the skin on either side if his mouth tightened painfully.
“Save the fake charm. Visiting hours are over, sonny.”
She obviously had a teenage daughter.
Julian froze.” Please, Ma’am…I’ve gotta find somebody…She’s really sick.”
The nurse shook her head in curt dismissal, sucked a last crumb, and then punched a button on her telephone to tend to more important business,
Julian’s cold wet hand grabbed the receiver from her.
“Rachel Gibson, “he rasped, suddenly seeming older and scarier than his twenty years. “The Senator’s daughter…What room is she in?”
“Your pretty face gas got you way too cocky, sonny. You may be hot stuff to some little girls foolish enough to go for tall, blonde hair and baby blue eyes, but that Gibson girl wouldn’t wipe her pretty feet on the likes of you…even if you did get her pregnant.”
His broad shoulders sagged. Julian’s tough stance wilted.
“Where?” He pleaded in s desperate, breathless voice, a boy’s voice now.
Her stare hardened, Then she seized the phone from him.
“Get outta of here, sonny, before you get yourself into real trouble. The Senator’s been down here. He told me about you and to be on the watch -out…”
When Julian didn’t bulge, she hollered off-handedly,
“Officer! It’s him! It’s that Julian Sark guy.”
Julian took off in a dead run.
So did the deputy.
As Julian sprinted like a crazed rat though a maze of endless white corridors, the big deputy lumbered at his heels.
The bastard would probably throw the book at him. Let him. All that mattered was finding Rachel…before it was too late.
Then Julian slammed through a double set of swinging doors only to find himself trapped in a dead-end hall on the seventh floor.
His heart beat like a tom-tom when he pivoted widely just as the deputy banged through the doors and smiled. Behind Julian, Senator Gibson’s voice thundered, “What the hell are you doing up here, Sark?”
“I came to see Rachel.” He said as he turned around.
“Over my dead body, punk.”
Shock and disapproval ripped though the grim clump of fashionably - dressed people standing outside Rachel’s door.
“You’re lying!”
Vaguely Julian was aware of her mother’s pitying gaze as he stumbled past her. Suddenly he fell that he moved in a weird slow motion. The white walls closed in on him like a surrealistic nightmare.
Was that frail, thin creature veiled in curtains and swaddled in white sheets like a mummy in that far corner really his lively Rachel?
The blinds were down. The room was gray and shadowy.
“Babe.. What have they done…”He chocked. His voice dried. “Oh, God…What have I done?”
TBC
Okay, When I chose my pen name, I knew that eventually, I would write a Sark fic. Now, here it is. Don't get me wrong, I'm a true Sydney/Vaughn shipper but I think it's time that Sark gets in due. Hope you will give this story a try. Thanks.
CJ
Summary:
He had it all...Wealth, fame, success. But the emptiness aching inside him wouldn't subside. Watching TV coverage of Rachel Gibson's upcoming wedding, Julian Sark marveled at how she'd changed from the wild, free spirit he'd loved to the cool, proper socialist her powerful family had made her. But now, he had to see her again, and even her family couldn't stop him. Because if that boy whose hand she was holding wasn't the image of Julian at age five, he'd eat his Oscar!
Prologue
Maybe everybody was right after all. Maybe Julian Sark was too wild and too passionate and too damned stubborn for his own good.
Whatever.
Julian was too scared about Rachel to care one way or another.
The weather was a blustery and uncertain as his foul mood. It was raining intermittently. Every so often, , the moon would break out from its wispy cover and put a stop to the nonsense.
Julian was damn driving like a demon from hell. His knuckles shone like bright white bones as he whipped the steering wheel to the right and served his daddy’s battered Chevy onto the web hospital drive.
Massive and ink-black, the rectangular building looked as forbidden as a prison as it looked in stark relief above a black fringe of live-oak trees and was backlit by that violent, moon-dark, Texas sky.
Rachel was in there, somewhere…maybe dying.
Hi gut cramped in sick, demoralizing fear. Her powerful family would stop at nothing to keep him from seeing her.
Let them try.
He slammed on the brakes, get out of the car he’d taken without permission and ran, heedless of the soft rain that had begun to fall again, uncaring that he’d left the door wide open and the headlights blazing into the empty blackness like twin cones.
With a callused brown hand, he shielded his eyes against flashing red and white lights of an ambulance. More sirens screamed from the distant interstate, jarring him in his panicky confusion as he raced toward the E.R. entrance.
His mouth twisted when he spotted the same scowling deputy who’d all but accused him of killing Ben a week ago. Ben, his best friend; Ben, Rachel’s brother. Ben, whose lifeless head he’d cradled in his lap. Ben, whose grave he’d visited less than an hour ago to plead for for forgiveness.
Nod. Smile at the uniformed jerk. Stay cool.
Julian shot the officer a tense grin that must have passed muster. Then he shouldered his way through the sliding glass doors like a surly outlaw.
Inside, heads swirled as rain dripped off his blonde hair. He slicked the thick stuff back, out of his scaling eyes. A pretty teenager gasped coyly and then gave him one of those fluttery smiled all the girls gave him. He saw her father’s hand clench warningly on her slim shoulder and draw her out of Julian’s path.
Half boy, half man, Julian moved too fast, as if he hadn’t quite grown to his long, lean, rugged body. Still, he was hunky and gorgeous. His voracious sex appeal made him suspect with all parents and teachers, and with any other guy his age who had a girlfriend.
“You’re every teenage girls’ dream lover and every daddy’s worst nightmare, “Coach Howard had teased him when he’d been voted Most Handsome in high school.
“When I was your age I had pimples. I envy the hell out of you, kid. Looks like yours will open all sorta of doors.” The coach added with a smile.
Behind a cluttered desk a nurse ignored a stack of charts and blinking lights on her phone and licked pizza crust off her fingers.
But she couldn’t ignore him.
No women ever could, especially if he smiled.
But when he tried, the skin on either side if his mouth tightened painfully.
“Save the fake charm. Visiting hours are over, sonny.”
She obviously had a teenage daughter.
Julian froze.” Please, Ma’am…I’ve gotta find somebody…She’s really sick.”
The nurse shook her head in curt dismissal, sucked a last crumb, and then punched a button on her telephone to tend to more important business,
Julian’s cold wet hand grabbed the receiver from her.
“Rachel Gibson, “he rasped, suddenly seeming older and scarier than his twenty years. “The Senator’s daughter…What room is she in?”
“Your pretty face gas got you way too cocky, sonny. You may be hot stuff to some little girls foolish enough to go for tall, blonde hair and baby blue eyes, but that Gibson girl wouldn’t wipe her pretty feet on the likes of you…even if you did get her pregnant.”
His broad shoulders sagged. Julian’s tough stance wilted.
“Where?” He pleaded in s desperate, breathless voice, a boy’s voice now.
Her stare hardened, Then she seized the phone from him.
“Get outta of here, sonny, before you get yourself into real trouble. The Senator’s been down here. He told me about you and to be on the watch -out…”
When Julian didn’t bulge, she hollered off-handedly,
“Officer! It’s him! It’s that Julian Sark guy.”
Julian took off in a dead run.
So did the deputy.
As Julian sprinted like a crazed rat though a maze of endless white corridors, the big deputy lumbered at his heels.
The bastard would probably throw the book at him. Let him. All that mattered was finding Rachel…before it was too late.
Then Julian slammed through a double set of swinging doors only to find himself trapped in a dead-end hall on the seventh floor.
His heart beat like a tom-tom when he pivoted widely just as the deputy banged through the doors and smiled. Behind Julian, Senator Gibson’s voice thundered, “What the hell are you doing up here, Sark?”
“I came to see Rachel.” He said as he turned around.
“Over my dead body, punk.”
Shock and disapproval ripped though the grim clump of fashionably - dressed people standing outside Rachel’s door.
“You’re lying!”
Vaguely Julian was aware of her mother’s pitying gaze as he stumbled past her. Suddenly he fell that he moved in a weird slow motion. The white walls closed in on him like a surrealistic nightmare.
Was that frail, thin creature veiled in curtains and swaddled in white sheets like a mummy in that far corner really his lively Rachel?
The blinds were down. The room was gray and shadowy.
“Babe.. What have they done…”He chocked. His voice dried. “Oh, God…What have I done?”
TBC
