MS - Rav's newest story

[Pheonix791989]

you gotta update again mum. i just cant wait to read more. I'll be able to read alot more now because some of my classes are over for the semester. Pwease?? *poke poke wif a stik*

[Ravynlee]

Thanks Mel ^^

How are your studies going? - Everyone's getting busy now this time of year huh? Sucks. Hope you're doing well. You still haven't asked me whatever it was you wanted to ask a while back - not important anymore? Well you know where I am should you feel the need. If its about another story you have in mind or whatever you know what my answer will be But yeah, feel free to PM anytime.

Coolies.

 

Now as far as an update goes I have around... 20 word doc pages to upload here so keep in mind it may take a while. The following update itself is pretty harsh. I make no apologies for the content as it pertains to the story but if your offended by anything thus far I suggest you don't read further. If you're going to write me and complain that ('insert band member's name') wouldn't do such-and-such then don't waste your time. I've said all along this is fictional. Don't get your panties in a twist if senseless acts of random violence are not your idea of literary entertainment. There's other stories here to read if this doesn't cut it for you.

Having said that feel free to critique constructively should you feel the need. I've done light and brief research into a few things here for the sake of reality but I will assume my facts to be hazy at best. Appreciate it for what it is (if you can ) and bear in mind it all serves a purpose. (Sis, I'm looking at you specifically here - don't freak out! haha)

 

Oh and lastly don't anyone tell the real MS a word about what I have subjected his name to

I don't want to get sued. haha

 

Here's more.

 

---

 

When Vince arrived at his beloved office at some ungodly hour pre-dawn, he froze with his keys in his fist, keenly sensing that something was amiss with his usual morning ritual. Finding himself bathed in light he tentatively peered upwards to see shadows shift against the windows. He instantly back peddled. He mouthed a silent three-syllable curse. Scanning the streets around him he couldn’t see any other cars parked nearby. If he called for help he assessed it would take the police a good ten minutes perhaps to get here and if he was being robbed that ten minutes could mean the difference between getting tomorrow morning’s editorial out on time or having to rely on less reliable methods while waiting for the insurance company to cough up his hard earned dough.

Frowning unsurely the one-time quarterback shifted the jacket into his other arm and pulling out his cell phone he switched it on to video camera. If he was about to walk in on a crime it was only fitting he as victim get the first scoop irrespective of the fact he was unarmed and might possibly even get hurt.

No matter, at the end of the day sometimes you just had to suffer for your art.

Gingerly making his way through the door he skirted the elevators and hurried up the stairs as he saw countless heroes do in the movies. It seemed to take forever to get to the fifth floor and he was severely out of breath by the time he staggered in to the foyer of his main offices. The lights continued to beckon him onwards despite his jelly legs and laboured breathing. Peering through the blinds where he could Vince frowned, unable to make out movement now of any sort. Again he scanned his surrounds, the empty corridor and the plastic potted plants and the ergonomic plastic chairs that lined the walls here were all just as they always were with nothing so much as a hair out of place. Maybe the robbers had just now escaped down the elevators he wondered with a raised brow. No. The arrow above the closed doors still had them sitting on the ground floor. God damn it, it was taking too long to get his breathing back to normal. He was too old for this Miami Vice shit. Wondering now if perhaps he hadn’t let his imagination be taken hostage downstairs, Vince straightened himself up to his full broad menacing height and lingered just inside the front door. He peered in. Through the empty cubicles and the cluttered desks he couldn’t see any signs of movement now, not even the janitor that he was half beginning to suspect who may have ingested one too many snifters of brandy from that little flask of his he kept on his cleaning trolley. It really did look like just another cleaning agent if you didn’t look at it too closely. With a pout Vince reached out and pushed the door open. The squeak of the worn hinges didn’t shatter the silence. Drawn by strange sounds coming from further inside Vince crept over towards the room tucked away to the far right of the office. The door to the archives room was open. Damn it he was being robbed. Shit. Laying down his cell on a table he reached out and picked up some small statuette that had been sitting nearby on one of his employees workstations. It was a small bronze depiction of the Statue of Liberty.

Trite, he snorted to himself.

Hearing what sounded like a great flurry of folders hitting the floor Vince drew himself over to stand with his back just outside the door and drew in a deep steadying breath. He tightened his grip on the statuette in his fist. Slowly, delicately he inched forward and peered an eye inside the doorway to judge the situation. He let out a low guttural half grunt half curse.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you Harris? You almost got yourself killed!”

Turning her head aside to glare at him over her shoulder Ravyn froze, assessing his anxious pose, stern countenance and the bronze statue in his fist before she swung her head back and continued rifling through the filing cabinet once more. Vince continued to utter more curses under his breath as his guard dropped depressingly fast. The adrenalin that had been up til this point coursing expectantly through his system left a nasty taste on the back of his tongue. Laying the statue aside he rubbed his face and stepped in, his slitted eyes sweeping the detritus that littered the floor in the form of hundreds of manila folders with his apprehension now becoming more outright agitation.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s like three in the fucking morning! Shouldn’t you be home in bed, you know, sleeping like everyone else in this godforsaken city? You do know what sleep is don’t you? Look at this fucking mess… Jesus. You know we have this brilliant invention called the Internet now, I’m sure you could find whatever the hell it is you’re looking for with a lot less-”

“I can’t. I’ve tried. Believe me I’ve tried,” Ravyn muttered back with her face still buried inside one of the many folders before her. “Every time I think I get a lead this message pops up to tell me ‘this page cannot be found.’ If I didn’t know better I’d almost swear someone’s been working serious overtime to wipe all traces of this guy off the face of the planet or something. It’s weird. Beyond weird. This whole thing just reeks of… I can’t even think of a word off the top of my head.”

“What guy?”

[Ravynlee]

“Some kid named Jason Shinoda. What do you know about it? He died a few years back. I found his name on Rob’s computer and his name keeps coming up every time I do a search on-”

“Shinoda? As in more friends than Jesus; Michael Shinoda? Fort Minor Mike Shinoda? Jesus Christ you really need to get a life Rave. Get laid, get a dog, get something, but you need to let go of this story. There’s nothing there, I’m telling you-”

“Eighteen months ago this Mike was another nobody in this city. Virtually overnight he makes a name for himself. Suddenly there’s people bending over backwards to lend him support to get that club of his up and running and no one knows why or how? Jesus Vaughn, am I the only one who thinks this guy is fucking dirty here or-”

“Dirty? No. Dirty compared to what Rave? Half the businesses in this tri-state area are built on a foundation of shit so thick you couldn’t drill through it, and you’re stressing over some guy who- who owns a fucking strip joint in Manhattan because why exactly? You’re riding the feminine-rights express all the way back to Washington here? Jesus fucking Christ, look at this place. It’s like 9/11 all over again…”

“Mike Shinoda is the like some god damned antichrist, I’m telling you. He looks and comes across all sweet and sophisticated but inside he’s crazy, he’s a murderer and a thief and a liar, he’s in bed with at least half of the NYPD and this whole corruption thing-”

“In bed with? Jesus Harris, really, really, and I can’t stress this enough, you really, really need to go out and get yourself a boyfriend, okay seriously. You’re hang-ups for this guy, it’s not healthy okay; he’s obviously out of your league. He hurt your feelings in high school or something? Give you the brush off? Not return your calls or something? Jesus Christ-”

“I’m being serious here-”

“Well so am I!” Vince snapped back.

Flinging his jacket onto a nearby cabinet he ran his hand over his mouth and face and up over his tight fading curls before he gestured to the folders scattered haphazardly at his feet and let out another incoherent string of curse words. Stooping down he scooped a few up to pile atop the cabinet before the pile fell to one side and with an unceremonious swish fluttered back to the floor to join the others in a growing mountain of manila folders, photographs and photocopied pieces of paper.

“Fuck!” he growled in frustration. “You need to let go of the past here okay?” he said, approaching atop the folders like some unsteady-footed mountaineer.

His voice was low but was still rich with the same aggravated, pissed off, high-strung tone he had brought with him upon entering. Beneath a derisive frown he was pointing a finger at the shorter woman with all the authority he could muster.

“Now you listen to me. I don’t want anymore talk of this Mike Shinoda, of this Jason Shinoda, I don’t even want to so much smell a whiff of anyone of the Shinoda family tree coming from you anymore, are you listening to me? There are more stories out there than a man who runs some fucking club Ravyn, and I’m not paying you to stalk anyone much less build a case around something with less substance than Anna Nicole’s underwear, do you understand what I’m telling you? There is no corruption. That hooker that was shot, that friend of yours, it was probably her Mack Daddy or whatever, or her pissed off ex husband, you ever stop to think of that? You said yourself the man was a loose cannon after she left him right? Have you investigated him yet? Have you even been able to find him, or have you been so caught up in the fanfare, which you helped create here by the way so don’t go giving me that innocent school-girl look here alright? I’m telling you this now not just as your boss but as your friend. We go back a long way here. Well okay maybe a handful of years but in all that time Rave you’re like… you’re one hell of a writer. You came here with all this passion and promise and I appreciate that I do but seriously, seriously Rave, listen to me here now okay please just let this go. Just let it go, that’s all I’m saying. Let it go.”

“You too huh?” Ravyn scoffed. “Why is it no one can see what’s right in front of them? Maybe that’s it, maybe they don’t want to. I thought we stood for something here, Vince-”

The tall reporter blinked dramatically as if offended and poked himself in the chest.

“What are you saying here, are you accusing me of-?”

“You know what, never mind. I’ll do it myself if I have to. One person can make a difference remember-”

“Oh so now we’re back to pretending we’re Mother fuckin’ Theresa here - god rest her soul,” Vince chuckled with ambiguous humour. It shifted back to serious beneath Ravyn’s unwavering gaze. Running his fingers through his hair he let out a defeated sigh punctuated by another typically blasphemous curse.

“Jesus Christ Ravyn… what’s happened to you? You used to be one of my best. Now look at you, look at what you’ve become. You’re not even making deadlines anymore you’re a wreck. I didn’t want to say anything earlier and you know risk upsetting you what with Rob and your sister’s baby on the way and all, all that history there between you, but you look worse than Mama Cass after she ate that damned ham sandwich or something…”

Huffing out a sigh Ravyn picked up the folders stacked in front of her before she reached out and thudded the drawer to a close. Vince grumbled as she turned her back. He watched her walk out with his hands on his hips territorially.

“Get back here Ravyn, I haven’t finished yet… Ravyn? Rave. Jesus Fucking Christ…”

At her desk Ravyn threw the folders down atop the pile and rifled through them. She afforded her boss a curt glimpse out of the corner of her eye as he approached fussing with his jacket again but shrugged his grip on her arm loose before sinking down into her seat heavily. The chair creaked with panic. Bumping the mouse, her computer screen woke up from its nap to show several windows waiting opened before her. One wore the emblem of some local college; another showed the database of the city’s semi-recent obituaries. Frowning over her shoulder Vince glared at the screen studiously.

“So I bet you didn’t even make it to their Halloween party this year right?” he asked. He spoke as if the cordialities were forced to some pre-rehearsed script and didn’t care about the response as much as the act of injecting some small dose of tempered humility to an otherwise terse conversation. Ravyn’s shrug only made him bow his head again and shake it in defeat.

“You know I’m not one for socialising.”

“No, not when stalking seems all the rage this year huh?”

Offering him a curt glare over her shoulder Ravyn said nothing before she returned her attentions to the screen, then the folders, as Vince watched on impassively.

“You know what happened between him and her and you so soon after what happened to that kid of yours-”

“I’m fine with that,” Ravyn said through clenched teeth. It was in essence a conversational full stop as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat and resumed searching the computer screen in front of her as if physically unable to see anything else but that one lit-up box. Vince’s silence wasn’t so much apologetic as it was acquiescence.

“So,” he eventually sighed, “What are we supposed to be looking at?”

Blinking down at the folder beside her Ravyn traced a sentence from the page before she typed it in and clicked a button. The page on the screen changed.

“A doctor at the hospital I went to earlier told me-” suddenly Ravyn had fallen silent.

“What, so you’d rather hang out in hospitals than be with your family, on Halloween of all nights? You really are losing the plot here aren’t you Harris? Have you considered therapy? I only ask because-”

“Shh! Look.”

[Ravynlee]

The article on the screen settled before them.

“‘Local youth killed in drive by shooting,’” Vince read. “‘-nineteen year old man was gunned down yesterday in another drive by shooting… possible gang related… Police say the young college student Jay-’ holy shit, that’s the same guy isn’t it? Mike’s brother.” He shrugged. “So what? Looks pretty straightforward. What am I supposed to be looking for? I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know,” Ravyn muttered.

Peering closer at the screen she propped. With a few clicks she had enlarged the article see it clearly. With a gasp she jabbed a finger at a word for the other reporter to see.

“Bennington… Jesus, Jay was in league with Chester’s crew?”

“Not necessarily. Could have been his supplier?”

“My god, the date. Look at the date.”

“July 15. So what?”

Huffing out a sharp breath Ravyn pushed herself upright and staggered to her feet.

“I have to get out of here,” she uttered stuffing her arms through the sleeves of her coat.

“What? Wait a minute, where are you-?” he began to ask but was silenced by the strange look shimmering on the woman’s face.

Vince watched her a moment before he leant closer down over the seat to peer at the article. The small almost nondescript black and white image of a body lying on the sidewalk draped in a sheet being investigated by uniformed officers made the reporter’s frown darken. He studied it with narrowed eyes. The background though dissected by people and a vague black sky and badly pixilated rendering gave nothing away. It could have been anywhere. That kid could have been anyone. Nothing jumped out at him at all except for the fact it was sadly one of too many he had seen and sadly printed over the years - so much so not even this one had made it anywhere near the front pages of the magazine from where it had been resourced. To anyone else it was just another tragic accident set there next to some used car advertisement but to his colleague apparently it represented something more. He blinked back over his shoulder and called out for answers but Ravyn was practically gasping for breaths as she fled the office. Vince’s frustration dissipated as he heard the elevator doors slide to a close and the silence returned with an eerie clarity. Clearing his throat he cursed at the folders that littered the table and shoved them brusquely as if they would all magically return from whence they came by doing so. They slid to the floor with a swish and cushioned thump. Vince swore under his breath. Reaching out to close the open windows on the screen in front of him he stopped and peered closer.

“Son of a bitch,” he uttered with a dubious grin.

The profile of Ravyn’s ex husband stood out just off the edge of the crime scene picture, as clearly as the photograph half buried beneath the papers that cluttered her desk mere inches away. Same long face, same naturally ambivalent frown, same block of hair at the end of his chin, same everything, there was no mistaking the physical comparisons by any extreme. Glimpsing at the photograph, and at the young couple embracing in the portrait just inches beside it, Vince’s smile fell away. Reaching down he tapped his pockets for his cell phone only to realise he’d left it somewhere behind him on a desk upon arriving. No matter. Picking up the receiver of the phone tucked away on Ravyn’s desk Vince punched in a number and waited for the automated operator to enquire his call.

“Fort Minor - club, the club!” he said with his eyes fixed determinedly on the image on the screen. He waited. The call was redirected as he stole a glimpse at his wristwatch. There was a click and a sleepy voice uttered a word into his ear.

“Mike. It’s Vince. She knows man. I couldn’t stop her. I tried but she just- I don’t know what-”

“Alright. I’ll deal with it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to-”

“I said I’ll take care of it - And you mention my name again-”

“I know, we never had this conversation,” Vince nodded. He paused considerately. “Hey m-man, about the other day I was just like-”

With another click the phone went dead in his ear. Slowly, delicately he returned the receiver to its cradle. With the edge of the jacket still hanging off his arm he discreetly wiped the plastic moulding with a cautious look around the office. No one was around to see it; no one else was there at all.

Smirking to himself the reporter turned off the computer and hefted the files into his arms to carry back to the archives room and toss onto the floor to join the others. It wasn’t his concern anymore; someone else would have to deal with that. Then drawing the door to a close he locked it. Retrieving his cell from the desk where he had left it he set the statuette down, straightening it up so that she sat just as she had been before he had even entered the office. Vince smiled at the small icon and gave it a wink. Tossing the coat over his shoulder he made his way towards his office, whistling contentedly to himself as the sky began to herald the approach of dawn across the waking streets of New York.

It was going to be another great day for him he could already feel it.

 

---

[Ravynlee]

(Sis, sorry Trust me will serve a purpose for you very shortly)

 

---

 

Looking out the windscreen at the street ahead Joanna sighed into her lap heavily.

“You owe her an apology,” she said.

Receiving only silence she rolled her eyes aside to see her husband looking elsewhere with a stubborn pout to his lips.

“After the way you behaved last night frankly you owe a lot of people one.”

Rob snorted and glimpsed down at her. The look on his face barely shifted as he sat tapping the steering wheel as if he had better places to be at that moment than receiving another lecture from his wife.

“What, like you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

Shaking his head Rob was looking out the window again, squinting through the brilliant light beyond his shoulder. Over the silence festering within the cabin the sound of typical city construction could be heard over the din of blasting horns. Joanna groaned in a way that echoed the glare in her eyes. She struggled to face him with another shake of her head.

“You are unbelievable you know that?”

Rob nodded flippantly.

“Yeah, you’d know all about that,” she thought she heard him utter under his breath. Faced with only more silence he looked back at her as if awaiting her vocal rebuttal that didn’t come. He sighed with fingers tapping the window edge irritably. “Are we gonna be at this all day? I’ve got a job to do.”

“Trust me,” Joanna said as she reached over and popped the lock on the door to shove it open with a creak. “I can think of better places to be right at this minute too, you ass.”

Slamming the door behind her to extenuate her point she didn’t bother to say anything else much less bid him goodbye as she heard him start the engine and pull out into traffic again without returning the favour in kind. The urge to cry as she stood there beneath the glare of the midmorning sun made her face ache as she clenched her jaw so tight it hurt her. The fluttering in her stomach returned again. Cupping it with a shaking hand she smoothed down the creases on her shirt with a miserable sigh.

“I know,” she muttered to herself nasally. “I’m sorry.”

Squinting up at the towering brick tenement in front of her Joanna huffed a sound and slung the handbag determinedly over her shoulder. Her frown softened. She didn’t blame her sister at all for not answering her calls but couldn’t help but feel somewhat victimized being repeatedly caught in the middle of her and Rob’s continual confrontations. She knew when she married him that things were likely to remain tense for a little while but lately she was beginning to fear they were never going to leave her, that she had inadvertently adopted old wounds that she stupidly thought in the early days of their courtship she might be able to save him from. Huh, what a misguided idiot she was, look at where they were now. Not even one year later and this morning they were barely speaking. Already they sounded like an old bitter couple just like he and her sister used to not that long ago. She was beginning to think that the problems had to stem from him and not herself as she had always in part suspected. After all both she and Ravyn couldn’t be wrong about the same things could they? And he could be such a selfish child sometimes. Jerk. Feeling her unborn daughter somersault inside of her Joanna almost lost her breathing. She gasped and steadied herself against a nearby tree trunk. The last thing she wanted to do was bring her little girl into an unhappy household but the fact she was already fighting with her baby’s father technically in front of her while still in utero made Joanna’s anger quickly dissipate into other channels. Damn it she still loved him but why did he have to be so distant all the time, so insensitive? What was she doing wrong here? Why couldn’t she make this work for all of them?

Digging out her cell phone Joanna thumbed a button and waited, listening to the busy signal just as she had been on and off all morning. Ravyn was always busy running around doing something or another but she was never too busy to return her sister’s calls. Joanna bit her lip anxiously. Trying another number Joanna searched the street both sides of her before she made her way towards the front door. She pressed the buzzer. She waited. Even the phone at her office rang out. This wasn’t like her sister. Something was definitely wrong and with each passing second Joanna with her sister’s intuition could feel it.

Pressing the intercom buzzer again she waited. The silence on the other end sharpened her breaths expectantly. Fishing inside her handbag she clutched the keys in unsteady fingers before threading them into the lock. She hoped she wasn’t about to walk in and find her beloved sibling in a compromising situation with another party she suddenly thought to herself. Joanna smiled nervously and shook such thoughts aside. No Ravyn wouldn’t do that, besides she never had the time. She couldn’t keep a secret like that to herself. They shared everything, even a husband at differing times in their lives, for all the drama that contained. Something didn’t feel right at all. Cautiously Joanna crept up the stairs.

The eerie silence made the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention. The grip with which she held those keys made her fingers ache. Calling out to her sister cautiously she waited for a response that didn’t come. Suddenly finding herself alone in that narrow darkened stairwell Joanna begun to wish she had managed to keep Rob beside her, needing his calm composure and suddenly appreciating his duties a little more every time he drove off to take another pusher and peddler and felon off the street. She hadn’t given him much credit but now she was beginning to resent her earlier abrasiveness - as justified as it may have arguably been.

“Sis? Are you home? I’m coming up okay?” her voice echoed back with eerie solitude.

Nothing.

The stairs creaked under foot as she stepped up on the rickety landing.

“My god…”

[Ravynlee]

Fishing out her cell again Joanna hurriedly punched a number. She squeezed the phone to her ear. She cursed under her breath. It was taking too long for him to pick up, damn it he was probably going to ignore her like the stubborn goat-headed asshole he was beginning to-

“What?”

“Rob? Rob! It’s me. I need you back here. Something’s wrong. The door’s open. I think the lock’s been broken. Oh my god, there’s stuff everywhere- I think-”

“What, at Rave’s? Are you sure? Where is she? Can you see her?”

“Oh my god. Wait. I think I heard something-”

“Hey, listen to me, do not go inside, do you hear me? Jo? Listen to me; I’m on my way. I’ll be five minutes. Whatever you do, don’t-”

The sound of his voice though faded into the background as Joanna tentatively reached out to push the door open wider, feeling her body shudder at the shock of the living room revealing itself in utter disarray before her. The blinds were still drawn against the city casting an ominous shadow that caused her to squint to see inside of it. Glass crunched under foot with each delicate step. The stillness was absolute, the damage abhorrent. It took Joanna a good few moments to realise the room she now found herself standing in the middle of used to be her sister’s once orderly living room. It felt too surreal, the horror, the shock too overwhelming. Furniture was ripped, broken or upended, missing electrical goods left the cabinets bare and eerily hollow, glass shards from the shattered coffee table glinted in small slivers of sunlight like frozen tears against the carpet. Papers were strewn everywhere. The smell of wine or bourbon stung her nostrils. An empty glass too sat broken just beside her foot. There were pictures beneath it. Joanna blinked down at them before scooping one delicately into her hand.

Nicky.

Panicked thoughts raced through her mind then, haunting mental images of her sister so enveloped by grief and alcohol she lost complete control before doing harm to herself on top of her altercation with Rob mere hours before. Oh god no, not her sister, Ravyn wouldn’t do that - would she? As the image of her sister, her husband and the small boy in his father’s beaming arms distorted to little more than colourful smears, Joanna swept her eyes with her arm and stepped in further. She could hear that noise again. What the hell was it? Where was it coming from? Was that… water she could hear running?

Barely able to breathe let alone speak Joanna tentatively crept forward and called her sister’s name fearfully.

“Rave…? Is that you?”

Who else would it be?

Suddenly the very real fear that she had walked in on the robbers still in the process of ransacking her sister’s apartment made Joanna freeze mid step. Rob’s warning replayed in her head with chilling clarity. Oh god what if she were now in danger? Where was he? What the hell was she going to-?

There. She heard it again. It was water. Now that she was closer to the source Joanna could make it out, sounding like water overflowing from the bathtub. A million and one panicked thoughts ran through her mind but she didn’t have the time to heed any one of them. The idea that her sister was in there with a head full of alcohol, painful memories and slashed wrists made her forgo all fears for her personal safety as Joanna leapt over some jagged side table and strode quickly through the kitchen, the hall and made her way to the bathroom door. She tapped her palm against it anxiously.

Oh god please be okay, please be okay, she prayed.

Swinging open the door she peered in and back peddled in horror.

 

 

The next several hours of Joanna’s life were nothing more than one continual chaotic blur.

Bursting through the doors she hurried along side her husband, clinging to her sister’s cool hand and anywhere she could grab as Rob rushed her down the corridor in a cruel mockery no doubt of their long lost matrimonial night so many years ago. There was no trace of joy to be seen at all on either of their haggard faces.

“We need help here!” he barked as a nurse rushed over to meet them.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. 10-23, I think. I don’t know. We just found her- in a tub-”

“Code 11! Right this way. Are you a cop?”

“Yeah, NEU.”

“Friend or relative?”

“Uh both. Ex- ex-husband. This is her sister-”

“Please, tell me is she going to be okay?” Joanna intercepted fretfully.

By now they were in a room, in what Joanna could only assume was an emergency room as lights and buzzers and alarms sounded from seemingly every conceivable direction around her. Traumatized and in shock she could only stand there watching in a helpless stupor as Rob and the nurse hurriedly maneuvered Ravyn onto the gurney before being hooked up to machines. Though Joanna didn’t know what they were she knew with horror what they represented. The measured beep and hiss of a machine nearby momentarily captivated her. She couldn’t turn her eyes away, unable to process anything with a child like comprehension, feeling lost and stranded as she stood there shivering in the ducted air with water slowly dripping into indiscriminate puddles around her shoes.

There were other people there. Where they had come from, how long they had been there remained a mystery to Joanna who stood nursing her stomach and her throat with her eyes wide and her hands quaking. Rob was ushered back and he too stood watching. Reaching out Joanna clung to his arm and gravitated against it, the red angry line that marred her sister’s ashen neck filling her with such dread Joanna felt her knees weaken before they buckled completely beneath her.

[Ravynlee]

Outside they were forced to wait. It was long, arduous and beyond painful. Time had stopped. The ticking of the obligatory wall mounted clock made a mockery of the situation. On the other side of that glass wall her sister’s life hung in the balance and there was not a damn thing in the world Joanna could do in the world to save her. There weren’t enough words in any language to describe the feelings coursing through her system as she sat there on the edge of her seat alone trying not to watch Rob standing on the other side of the room beside the doorway with his arms folded across his chest looking just as vacant. She wanted to get up and go to him to feel his strong arms around her instead of the aching loneliness that instead held her hostage. The sight of his shirt and his sleeves and his trousers still saturated made the memories come flooding back with chilling clarity. In her mind Joanna could see herself struggling to wrench her sister’s lifeless body from the tub only to have Rob suddenly grab her arms to stop her. She had screamed at him but then she didn’t know whether she had truly stopped from the minute she opened the door to find her sister’s half naked body submerged in that bloodied water or if it were all just the anguished cries resounding pain beyond communication within her own mind. She had watched on helpless as Rob had hefted her from the tub and laid her across the slick tiles, forcing air into her lungs and pushing hard against her chest amid the endless torrent of cascading water. It was everywhere; even now it still rang in Joanna’s ears like the aftermath of a fatal gunshot. The elation of seeing her sister finally gasp for breath was far surpassed by the very real terror that she saw flash for an instant in Ravyn’s eyes. They were red. The whites of her eyes were red. There was a bright fine mark around her neck that was red. Even the water in the tub in front of her and splattering against the scuff-marked tiles was tinged red. Joanna was robbed of the ability to speak as Rob was saying something with his deep sniffily tone of voice. Towel, blanket, something to cover her up, he demanded but still Joanna couldn’t move. Despite her terror, despite her tears, she saw as if for the first time that there were bruises on her sister’s knee. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Who took a bath with their tee shirt, jacket and bra still on?

The doctor emerged and Joanna was relieved when the woman in the traditional white coat strode straight over to her saving her the trouble of struggling up on unsupportive legs while the news was delivered.

Alive. Stable.Joanna wept into her hands then as Rob eventually made his way to her side and slung his arms around her. Muffled against his wet shirt and arms she didn’t make out much of the details, just basking in the relief in the joy of the moment, that her beloved sister was alive and was going to be okay from now on, the worst was over now, wasn’t it?

Catching the last few words that fell from the doctor’s mouth Joanna managed to pull her head up to frown back at them both with confusion. All those numbers they were passing between them, the cop and the doctor, with drawn grave expressions on their faces had her frown darken considerably. Why the hell was Rob looking so pissed off for all of a sudden? Hadn’t he heard the great news? Ravyn was alive! She was going to be okay now, wasn’t she?

“When can I go in and see her?”

“She’s… under heavy sedation-”

“But she’ll wake up soon, right?”

The doctor cleared her throat as she glimpsed aside at Rob dubiously.

She mentioned something about the results of some kit that had Rob bow his head and turn away from. He nodded limply. The doctor did too. It bespoke a kind of sympathy that seemed to go above and beyond the call of normal professional duties, as Joanna studied her closer. She wasn’t particularly old, she didn’t particularly look like the stereotypical ICU doctor Joanna almost expected to see, but her intense blue eyes gave Joanna chills if for no other reason than the fact they looked almost as grief-stricken and shaken as if she were staring into a mirror. Squeezing her husband’s hand fearfully Joanna wanted to see some look of resolute assurance in his eyes but all she saw there in its place was anger. His breaths were still laboured and his nostrils were flaring. His angled brow that usually made him look mad even when he were casually staring off into space thinking about nothing now looked vehement and murderous. Reaching out Joanna went to cup his face to say something, anything, to offer words of comfort that they both needed to hear but jerking his head back Rob avoided her touch before he stood and began to walk away sharply.

“Rob, where are you-?” she began to ask, her voice still wrenched from recent pains quavering with uncertainty beneath the doctor’s concerned stare.

“Babe, what’s going on? I don’t understand.”

“Mrs Bourdon,” the doctor said with the strangest barely perceptible break to her voice. “I’m afraid your sister has been raped.”

“What?” Joanna asked.

With that one word she felt her world slipping out from under her. But Rob wasn’t there beside her to help her make sense out of any of it as he was already making his way out of the room.

“Rob-?”

“Stay there,” he seemed to warn.

That low timbre of voice, almost guttural did not belong to him at all. Joanna felt herself shrink back into the cushions as she watched him stride out of the waiting room and burst through the double doors that led out of emergency and disappeared behind them with his pace only quickening with fierce determination.

 

---

[Ravynlee]

---

 

The banging Rashell heard on the living room door made the smile drop from her face instantly. The humour that had bathed her bright sunny kitchen that morning was sapped in that one sudden instant. Looking to her husband she cocked her head to the side curiously.

“Who would that be?” she wondered with a mouthful of Cheerios.

The beaming grin that had been on Mike’s face was slowly fading away too, his contagious laughter now a hiccup against the backdrop of noise as the banging came again. Setting his bowl of cereal down he pushed his chair out and stood to kiss his wife’s upturned brow reassuringly.

“I’ll get it,” he said.

Forcing a smile Rashell clasped his hand as it slid from her shoulder feeling the impulsive need to keep him beside her and not let go with a painful knot suddenly clenching at her stomach.

“Who is it?” she heard him call back.

The sound of his voice made her get up out of her dining chair to follow. With her bare feet coolly slapping at the floorboards she drew her bathrobe tighter around her and emerged just inside the hall as the front door was unlocked and drawn open.

“Yeah?”

The sudden image of a tall, broad, angry looking man filling the doorway made Rashell recoil against the doorway anxiously. She winced. There was nothing fearful in Mike’s body language at all as he leant against the opened door and gave out a nasal sigh.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Put your hands behind your back,” the tall man said.

Just behind Mike’s shoulder Rashell was just able to make out the edge of the gold badge he was holding up in front of him. Mike blinked back impassively. He even appeared to s****** at the order as he squinted up the merest of inches that separated level eye contact.

“What?”

“You heard me. Turn around.”

“No. Give me one good reason why I should.”

Rashell uttered his name fearfully. Mike turned back to look at her only to find himself ambushed face first against a nearby wall with a hefty thud. Mike grunted with his face crushed up against the wall. Rashell barely contained her panicked scream.

“Don’t hurt him!” she cried, clawing at the air in desperation.

“You’re under arrest.”

“For what?” Mike snapped over his shoulder before he was shoved against the wall with another vicious and silencing thud. He grunted through clenched teeth and even managed to smile as the sound of handcuffs were unlocked and clicked onto each wrist noisily.

“You people are unfuckin’ believable you know that?” he quipped over his shoulder as far as he could manage with his teeth still flashing. “What have I done this time? Swear I can’t take a shit without one of you flashing your badge at me. This is fuckin’ ridiculous.”

The tall man at his ear glared back at him with such hate in his eyes that Rashell began to doubt the validity of the NYPD logo on the back of his shirt. He was big and menacing and as tall as Mike was she knew he was no physical match against this man who had just invaded their quiet intimate breakfast.

“You know what you did,” the cop said, seeming to snarl like a bull ready to charge against the side of her husband’s face.

“Humour me!”

“Rape - and attempted murder.”

“What the-” Mike began to laugh. The sound was severed as he was spun around and slammed back first against the wall making the framed pictures dance and tremble in their frames tentatively. The hand around his throat enforced Mike’s silence but the look on his face was now not so much bemused as it was scornful. He glared back as Rashell began to sob and reach out in fear towards him once more.

“Officer, please, he didn’t do anything. He’s been with me the whole time. We were just having breakfast. Whatever you think he’s done you’ve got the wrong man, please-”

“Maybe I should strangle you here for your wife to see, huh?” the cop was snarling into Mike’s face viciously.

It was trivial if not surreal for Rashell to notice atop her fear and apprehension that the man’s shoes made strange squelching noises as they scuffed across the boards.

“Maybe I should do to you what you did to her, choke the fucking life from you like you did her-”

“Her who?” Mike cried back with his dark eyes enraged.

“Ravyn!” Rob spat.

Rashell gasped and clutched a hand to her mouth too late to stifle that sound that escaped from it. Shifting his eyes aside Mike looked for her. He assured her with a smile wordlessly that things were going to be okay, that this was all some horrible misunderstanding of course, and that once it was all sorted out things would go blissfully back to normal. But the atmosphere in that hallway sucked the life from that unseasonably warm almost sultry pre-winter morning with that one word lingering expectantly around the room.

“You mean that woman - that reporter that came here?”

“Rashell!” Mike snapped with a sudden glare.

He drew in a few calming breaths before eventually telling her to go into another room a minute to let them talk in private. The notion of leaving his side even for a moment let alone in handcuffs and with someone who looked intent to murder him where he stood made Rashell linger in trepidation. It was only after Rob eventually relented his grip and stepped back that she did with a cursory nod and a scathing glare of her own in the officer’s direction. Hearing the dining room door close Mike let out a sigh as he stood pondering the floor considerately.

“You don’t want to do this,” he warned.

[Ravynlee]

He tugged at the cuffs at his back that had obviously been snapped on too tight. Raising his eyes he looked at Rob carefully. Amid the silence that had settled and the bright light of the morning sun streaming in through the front door he studied the big cop’s face with his jaw set with unwavering determination.

“I made you who you are, don’t you forget that.”

“You tried to murder my ex-wife.”

“I’ve never tried to do anything, I do it or I don’t. It’s simple.”

“She’s laying in a fucking hospital bed fighting for her life because of you-”

“Did she say it was me?”

“I know it was you. You threatened her remember? She told me.”

“So now it’s illegal for me to ride the subway too, thanks for the head’s up.”

“I’m not fucking around!” Rob snapped. He was stooped low down into the other man’s face so close they were practically huffing breaths on one another. “I should drag your ass in now, let the authorities deal with you.”

“Come on,” Mike snapped back, growing tired of the charade with his dark eyes seething. “You really think I’d do this? That I’d risk my club, my wife, my reputation on some bitch that you threw to the curb? Oh that’s right… she left you. I forgot. Makes sense now if you think about it doesn’t-”

The sudden blow to his face had Mike’s words stalled into sickening submission. Slowly rolling his head back Mike groaned as he met Rob’s eyes with a smirk growing satisfactorily across his face.

“You do that again,” he warned, with his tongue snaking out to trace his glowing lip delicately, “and I’ll have this case dropped on charges of police brutality. Don’t think you’re the only one who knows the law here Bourdon, I told you before; I control you like some puppet on a fucking string. You want to take me down then try. It’s all circumstantial anyway. You’ve got nothing on me and I’ll prove it. This wont see the inside of a courtroom. And if by some miracle it did you know I’m not the only one with everything to lose here, daddy.”

“Don’t you threaten my family-”

“Then get these fucking cuffs off me.”

“You’re not getting away with this. I’ll see you fall before I do.”

“My car gets blown up, this bitch stalks me and I’m the one you’re arresting. Only in America, that’s for fuckin’ sure. Go ahead, officer, detective, whatever the fuck you want to call yourself these days, knock yourself out. Take me to jail. You know it’s not gonna solve anything. I wont be the only one out there with an eye on your back. Don’t forget our dear incarcerated friend Chester remember? I’m sure he’s just dying to get up close and personal with the one that put him away or at least one of his dissidents. Think twice, Rob, but you remember our little agreement.”

“It’s over. I’ve paid my dues-”

“It’s not over til I say it’s over.”

“I’m not doing this anymore!”

“You’re as guilty as I am and don’t you ever fucking forget it!” Mike snapped, glaring now up into the detective’s face with his black eyes seething with rage.

In the wake of their confrontation the silence that followed was so absolute the only sounds to brave it were their haggard breaths and the rattling of the cuffs butt against the wall beneath Mike’s back briefly. Somewhere off in the distance unseen someone was starting up their diesel yard mower. Birds eventually began to sing again. The creak of the dining room door heralded Rashell’s tentative approach as she lingered just outside the doorway beneath both men’s fierce and impatient stares.

“Is everything okay?” she squeaked.

She tugged the collar of her pink robe around her neck with her white fingers trembling.

Clearing his throat Rob agreed with a somnolent sigh.

“Yeah. I’m taking your husband in - asking him a few questions. Just routine.” His tone however, coupled with the dangerous look in his eyes assured her it was anything but routine circumstances.

“Is she going to be okay?” Rashell asked seemingly out of the blue drawing both men’s attentions again beneath her cursory, albeit apologetic smile. “Your ex-wife I mean… surely she’ll be able to tell you what happened. She’ll be able to tell you it wasn’t him. It’s not Mike. I know him; he’s not capable of this. My husband’s not a monster-”

“Pending a DNA test,” Rob said, seeming to struggle with protocol that he should have been able to deliver more coherently than this. “We’ll soon find out.”

Mike sneered as he glared at the officer with his face contorted in unrestrained hatred.

“You want DNA?” he snapped before hocking back and spitting a mouthful of phlegm aside at the taller man’s feet. “There’s your DNA. Now get me a god damned lawyer. I’m not saying another word.”

Taking Mike by the upper arm Rob nodded aside at the traumatized woman before with a fierce tug he dragged Mike out the front door of his house and down the porch steps into his waiting car.

 

---

>:o

[andrea]

Wow. As always I love it. I'm going review the previous updated first, firstly, I was shocked that you used both name for my character and I love how you did it. Second, I love that you use GH, haha. I laughed when I saw that. Thanks! How for the rest, I'm going to keep saying this, and like you've said to me in my stories, I can real see this as a movie and such. I sympathize with Joanna's character, it hard being pregnant, not talking for experience here, especially when a lot of stuff is going on, but I have faith in her character to come out on top. As for the second update, holy shit, is like everyone in the city under Mike pay or something? Shit. And holy shit again. Wow. That all I can said. I'm in shock here. Mike! I'm hoping he didn't do what your hinting. I was rooting for Rob there a little bit, lol. I got to find out what happens how. Post so more soon!

[crazy robster]

OMG!! 0_o Well, thanks for the warning my sweet cause that really was shocking!! My beloved... That was painful to me even though I know it's not real...*hugs hugs hugs* And poor Mike (the real one) in this story he is a big son of a bitch isn't he? But I was surprised to see how he's got everybody working for him in this bloody city...even Ravyn's boss?? Man, THAT's corruption! They're all a bunch of coward asses and only my beloved sis has the guts to fight this monster and the empire of crime he has created...GO MY SIS! I won't leave you!! (see I'm really into this story lol) Oh and I enjoyed me and Rob's convo in the car... "You ass..." Hahahaha I can imagine my indignation...me calling Rob an ass...lol Though I have to admit he tried...especially when he went to arrest Mike! Poor guy he's not a bad guy he's just an idiot...LOL Well, I know you are so clever and talented my beloved and I know that as intense and shocking as it was it DOES serve a purpose so I really can't wait for more!! Well done sis you've nailed it as always!! <3 *hugs forever*

[Friðbjörn]

woow.....I just read a pretty big long update now

this thing only escalates by the word haha

explosions, rapes, who can keep up with all this

well I know I want more that's for sure

[Ravynlee]

Shucks thanks guys ^^

Well I have more to post. I had to wait to get a few people's permission to upload (I have even more ppl coming in to this, see how it all comes together! haha) And so far I have a yes response from one. Nothing from the other. So I can upload two of three parts til I hear back. If I don't I'll change his name and edit the character to suit... in fact I think I just got me a great idea!

So while I update these parts bear with me. There's another part coming. Hopefully all ties together in some coherent form or another... as for who's guilty of what in any of this always remains to be seen. Read it and see what you think

 

Note: Thanks to Jos for her kind words in MSN. Aww. It's only a small part at the moment but I have ideas where to take her character if she lets me :lol:

(Sounds almost wrong doesn't it? haha)

 

As always thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Hell thanks to those that read. Just love watching that counter slowly going up. Boost to the ego. Always nice :thumbsup:

 

As for the disclaimer - copy any of the ones previous, it all applies here. Be warned it's dealing with sensitive subjects (apologies again all real MS fans, he just struck me as a good bad guy thats all! haha) and such so don't complain after the fact. You should know what to expect by now

 

---

 

“Mummy!”

“How’s my princess?” Sarah greeted as she caught the small child against her chest with a grunt. Pecking a firm kiss against her daughter’s dark hair she gave her a squeeze before setting her back down on her feet atop the crumpled sheets. “Shouldn’t you be asleep missy?”

“I’m not tired.”

Sarah smiled tiredly at her little girl’s small face and her big blue eyes and traced her cheek with her fingertips reverently.

“No, I bet you weren’t. You’re looking much better already. That medicine must be doing its job finally. Where’s your aunt Jos gone to?”

Ava shrugged with an exuberant smile. Finding herself revisiting another face in her daughter’s stead Sarah swept her fingers through Ava’s hair one last time before she pushed herself to her feet and began to make her way from her little girl’s bedroom.

Outside the rest of the little apartment was quiet. Traffic could be heard struggling in the streets below. Sirens wailed in the distance. Hearing the little four year old leap from her bed to the floor with a thud Sarah turned around to see her little angel rush up to meet her again just inside the doorway.

“Someone’s feeling better huh?” she asked Ava’s upturned face.

Ava grinned. Sarah found herself struggling to keep her smile in tact. Jesus, how she looked like her father when she did that. No, don’t think about that. She’s her own person, she’s not like him, she’s nothing like him, he’s nothing to her, remember? Huffing out a determined sound Sarah forced an incorrigible smile despite the exhaustion that stung her eyes.

“Think you’re strong enough to call Aunt Jos for me?”

“Don’t be silly mommy. She won’t hear.”

“What? Why is that?”

“Cause um she had to go.”

Traversing the hall on their way through the living room and the kitchen that were both bare of all forms of life Sarah paused to look down at her little girl with her brow furrowing curiously.

“What?” she grinned.

“She said daddy would stay and look after me now.”

Sarah almost choked as she blinked down at Ava’s mischievous grin.

“What did you say?”

Ava shrugged more concerned with scratching the back of her scrawny little leg than she was answering the questions of her workaholic parent. Ava shrugged and huffed out a sigh. Despite the fact she was physically so bereft she seemed to make up for it in her melodramatic way, rolling her eyes now as she’d no doubt seen someone do on the television screen with a little sound of derisiveness. She supposed it was something that all little children did, but Sarah was in no frame of mind to tolerate the whims of her drama-queen daughter. Giving her little hand a reprimanding squeeze Sarah summoned Ava’s attentions with a frown of concern.

“Sweetheart, what did Jos say about- where did she go?”

Ava shrugged again. Whether sensing her mother was too tired for games or was genuinely concerned now as she always was when she came home from work, the small child grunted and raised her arms up to wiggle her bony little fingers in the air. Regardless that she was getting too big to keep carrying around like a baby Sarah relented this once for the reassuring comfort it afforded her as she began to go from room to room again looking for her baby sitter.

Jos however was nowhere to be seen.

Hissing out a heavy sigh Sarah manoeuvred Ava back to her feet again and bid her to go play while she snatched up the telephone to make one very heated phone call. Ava reluctantly lingered and Sarah snapped at her, apologising with a sorry smile as she watched the child trudge off with a furrowed scowl. Rubbing her brow with her fingertips Sarah struggled to get abreast her thoughts as she pressed a sequence of numbers on her phone before listening to the dial tone pulsate against her ear.

Damn it, where the hell was she? And who the hell did she think she was? No one in their right mind would leave a small sickly four year old child unattended in their own home unsupervised, that was beyond ludicrous, that was down right irresponsible Sarah thought to herself, what the hell was she even paying her for? After several moments the dial tone rang out and message bank kicked in. Rather than leave an acerbic message Sarah pinched her eyes and struggled to get abreast of her emotions. Her head was spinning. The sunlight streaming in through the windows stung her eyes after so many hours beneath fluorescent bulbs and the noise barely buffered behind the windows only exacerbated her pounding headache. The look she had seen on the detective’s face back there at the hospital made her eyelids flutter open with a miserable gasp.

“Mommy. What’s matter?”

Sarah forced a tight-lipped smile. Fingering the collar of her jacket Sarah was quick to peel it off and toss aside on to the back of a nearby single seater with a gentle hush. She shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she lied. “Mommy’s just a little upset at your aunt right now. She knows she’s not supposed to leave you alone like that. Mommy’s just tired baby, it was a… long night that’s all. It’s okay. You go play. Mommy’s going to make herself a very big strong cup of coffee - I’m sure her headache will appreciate that.”

“Mommy, can we go to the park when daddy wakes up?”

“What? What do you mean, who are you talking about?” Sarah frowned now unable to stop herself. She was spread so mentally thin she was having trouble now stringing coherent thoughts together let alone struggling to dim her conversation down to a vocabulary that a developing mind would readily comprehend. Rubbing her face again to stifle an impending yawn Sarah took a tentative step forwards. Then she stopped. The haunting vision that Chester lay out there on the other side of that closed door sleeping peacefully like a free man made Sarah’s lungs constrict in apprehension. Jesus Christ when the hell did he even get out and how the hell did he find her so fast? How did he even know? How the hell did he-?

“Mommy? Can I?”

“Hold on a minute baby, wait a minute… listen… go… wait in your room a second okay? Go put your coat on. We’ll go out and get a Happy Meal or something okay? Just the two of us-”

“But Jos said daddy-”

“I don’t care what Jos said!” Sarah snapped before her forced smile silenced any other words from falling out.

Ava’s big blue eyes stared back anxiously.

Damn it Sarah say something, do something-

“Mommy’s going to go… talk to your… daddy,” she struggled out.

[Ravynlee]

She approached her little girl to stroke her pale little cheek apologetically. Ava continued to frown. That scowl, the way her little chin puckered up like that made Sarah dip her eyes low to the floor guiltily. It took all of her resolve to urge her daughter off towards her room and waited until the door closed before she let the smile drop away and the moment completely envelop her. Those hand full of steps that separated Ava’s bedroom from her own were the longest in Sarah’s life. Each step felt like she was trudging through cured cement. Her breaths were laboured. Her mind, her emotions, her body were all taxed beyond limitation. The traumatised look on that reporter’s face in her memories kept flashing before her eyes as if some kind of ominous portent of doom. She had been the last face Sarah had expected to see grace her ICU ward at such an ungodly hour of morning - and they had only just spoken the other day. Who in all of God’s green creation could do something like that to a person? Sarah could never understand this world, regardless she was but a poor soldier amidst it. She did her part to keep the world turning, but cases like that always plagued her in ways that shouldn’t have, always bringing up old questions, old doubts, making her wonder if she were a dying breed, a minority against a tide of violence far bigger than herself. It was too late in the day for such thoughts like this, she told herself, rubbing at her aching head and face and eyes wide with worry in the hall of her modest apartment. Huffing out a steadying breath Sarah poised just outside the door that led to her bedroom and waited. At first she didn’t hear anything. Was someone playing a joke on her? This was far from amusing to her. If Jos was in there waiting to leap out and surprise her, even at Ava’s bequest, Sarah was going to-

What the hell was that? Was that snoring?

Feeling a cold hand squeeze her heart Sarah froze and stared over her shoulder back the way she had come towards the kitchenette. She should have had the foresight to grab a knife or some kind of weapon when she’d been in there. She cursed under her breath then she stopped. Logic slowly eventually trickled in. Driven by the realisation that she was just tired, that her mind was predisposed to suggestion in this state, and that she was being led by nothing less than the imagination of a bored and up until recently feverish four year old child Sarah almost had to laugh at her situation. Damn it she was going to put herself in an early grave if she wasn’t careful sometimes, she mentally berated. Craning closer she cupped the handle and with a gentle twist opened the door.

“Wakey wakey aunt Jos. I’m not paying you to sleep on the-… Matt?”

The sight of a young man lying haphazardly across her bed affronted the young doctor’s eyes. Striding over she grabbed hold of his booted foot hanging limply off the edge of the mattress and shook it. She shook it again barely able to restrain her mounting anger. With a series of guttural grunts and groans the young man slowly squinted open his brown eyes. A lazy smile slowly grew across his long hawkish face. He grinned at her.

“Hey - there she is, long time no see like-”

“Matt what the hell do you think you’re doing here? You near scared me half to death! You smell like you crawled out of the sewer. Get up and get dressed. My daughter doesn’t need to see you lying around the house like that. Have some respect, if not for me than for her. And how the hell did you get in? Daddy? Where the fuck did you come up with a story like that? Your lucky I didn’t call the damned police-”

“Chill, chill alright, I just needed a place to stay, besides… I was in the neighbourhood,” the young man said making no move beyond stretching wearily against the mussed up covers.

Wrenching up the jacket, scarf and remaining boot that littered the floor, Sarah practically scowled as she paced the room, ignoring his grunts of protests as he caught his belongings with delayed responses.

“By the way that chick who was here before, man where did you score her from? Is she single?”

“None of your business. And who gave you the right to send her home? Never mind, what the hell am I asking you for, I won’t get any sense from you in this state, you’re high,” Sarah grunted.

Peering through a gap in the curtains on the other side of her bedroom now she surveyed the buildings, the skyline, the street below. A shaky sigh escaped her lips. Matt s******ed unperturbed as he struggled to feed his socked foot into his shoe with vested concentration. He chuckled before falling to his side against the pillows. Sarah forced out another sound that almost robbed her of energy as she struggled to get abreast of her rising emotions. She sounded like a robot despite the weariness to her tone as she shoved the curtains aside with a huff and stormed from the room with an angry impatient step. The sound of his delayed laughter only raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck irritably. Half way out of the room she stopped to look down over him.

“I don’t see you for twelve months or more and suddenly you show up here looking like this? Get your shit together Matt, your niece doesn’t need to see her uncle like this. I’ll make us some coffee.”

“Oh come on Sarah. Sarah! You know I don’t-”

The sound of the bedroom door slamming punctured his words before Matt fell back against the pillows with a heavy nasal sigh.

“Great to see you too little sis,” he murmured.

 

 

---

 

(I told you this was going to be different! *gasp* Sarah and Matt aren't a feuding couple in this one! OMG! haha)

[Ravynlee]

---

 

“Think he’s telling the truth?”

Turning away from the window Joel looked aside at his companion as he folded his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his jacket rustled amid the quiet. From his perch at the rear of the room Rob shrugged back limply. His face was the same as it always was giving nothing away. Beneath his usual frown he continued to stare at the glass ahead of him with sober concentration. He snorted in response. His lips were pursed in a pout. On the other side of the two-way mirror Mike sat slumped in the interrogation room as another detective bowed over his shoulder and muttered something derisive into the bound man’s ear.

Mike shook his head as his eyes lowered slowly to the desk. He was exhausted. They had been at this for hours. It felt like days. It could have even been weeks. Time was running on a different track now and had been from the moment Rob had rushed into his ex-wife’s apartment. He shook his head and looked to smile. There was nothing in it but a vague almost miserable reflection. Clearing his throat Rob slowly got to his feet and made his way over to the glass to stand beside his colleague.

“Eight hours of this and he still hasn’t cracked. I’m starting to wonder if we’re even barking up the right tree here man.”

“It’s him,” Rob said at the glass. It wasn’t an accusation. It was condemnation in its sincerest form.

“This is one big high-profile fish we’re frying, I’m just saying…”

With a dubious shrug Joel reached over to rap a knuckle on the glass.

“I just hope you’re right is all,” he said.

Hearing the sound the two men in the other room looked up. Keeping his face low Mike raised his eyes alone. Save for the mirrored glass that separated them he could have been staring straight into Rob’s eyes with a disparaging glare.

The two detectives watched as the interrogation officer excused himself and strode over to the door. Mike sunk back in his seat. The cuffs on his wrists constricted his movements, jerking him to a sudden stop half way through rubbing his weary face. He groaned. He even appeared to smile as he rolled his head back towards the ceiling. The sound of the two officers exchanging discreet mutters at the interrogation room door had him turn his head away in absolute disgust. He was more than pissed off with his current situation and it permeated the atmosphere all the way through to the next room like a physical entity, like some proverbial dark cloud. Skulking in his chair Mike waited as the detective returned a few moments later, his patience waring thin but still by all outward accounts maintaining his calm composure. Raising his brows with a restless click of his fingers Joel huffed out a sigh as he returned to Rob’s side to switch on the intercom. The silent scene that had been playing out before them like some life-sized television soap now came to life in full mechanical sound.

“Still not talking huh? Well how about a little show and tell. Want to see what your handiworks accomplished? Let’s take a look shall we?”

The detective opened the folder that had been sitting on the edge of the table and preceded to withdraw sheets of paper from it. Mike was deliberately looking elsewhere as the pages were slapped down in front of him loudly one by one.

“Here. And here. Look at that and tell me we’re making it up.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I at was home with my-”

“Look at it!” The detective barked.

In two angry strides he stood beside his prisoner with a gruff hand on the back of his neck pushing his face down towards the table. The indignant look on the half-Japanese man’s face buckled as he physically resisted.

“Look!”

Mike uttered a low curse under his breath. His dark eyes were seething. With a brusque shove he was released only to stare at his captor with his black eyes so full of hate as they followed him slowly around the room.

“Anything coming back to you yet? Anything ringing any bells?”

“Where’s my lawyer?”

“Told you, traffic,” the cop said with a smug look to his face. “You give us something we want and we’ll give you yours. It’s a fair deal.”

Hanging his head Mike shook it again with an indignant snort. The bright glossy A4 pages of random body parts marred with bruises, cuts and contusions glared back in gut-wrenching glory. With a knock to his throat Rob sighed at the window. Joel gave him a cursory glance that said what words never would. Slapping him on the back he turned to face the scene playing out before them once more.

“Let me tell you what we do know,” the cop said with his back to his colleagues. “This woman didn’t attack herself. See that mark there,” he said prodding a picture with a fat stubby finger, “That’s a bruise on her back. You want to know how she got it? That’s caused by a knee, your knee, when you knelt on her and wrapped that cord around her neck and strangled her! You look at that. See that, those little cuts there? That’s where she tried to pull at it and break free. They’re scratches caused by fingernails. She was clawing at her own throat to get away from you and what do you do? You rape her while she’s laying there fighting for her life, you sick fucking-”

Mike laughed. It was exasperated. He rolled his head back and grinned at the ceiling. It was as close to screaming as he was likely to get as he tried to jerk himself free from his seat to the jarring protest of his cuffs. The chain that anchored him to the floor snapped taut making a metallic clanging sound as it rubbed against the edge of the table. Mike could only shake his head again. He was trapped in a nightmare with no clear channels of communication with anyone around him. When his laughter died he looked up grinning at the sour-faced detective and directly ahead at the taunting image of his own exhausted reflection.

“Where are the marks on me?” he asked with his head still shaking.

He was speaking to a room full of unenlightened fools all glaring back at him with murderous stares. He looked to the interviewing officer with his teeth still beaming in a pained grimace.

“Where are they? I’m not an idiot. I don’t have a scratch on me. If- if what you’re saying is true where’s the proof? Where’s the evidence? It’s all circumstantial isn’t it? You’re still waiting for me to confess to some shit I didn’t do. You hear me in there? Hey!” he barked at the mirror, “I didn’t do this! You hear? Do you fucking understand yet? You people are fucking vultures. This is a set up!”

“A set up?”

“Yeah.”

“Who? Why? We’ve reports this is the woman you’ve been stalking the other week on the subway-”

“The bitch is confused. She’s in love with me. What the hell do I know? Where’s your proof? Where’s your evidence, witnesses, something!”

“You want proof? There,” the cop said, snatching up a picture to shove brusquely into Mike’s face. “There! Look at her! She’s going to tell us everything and when she does you’re ass is history.”

Watching the picture land silently upon the table Mike slid his eyes aside to blink at the other man.

“Then go annoy her,” he said flatly, “and leave me the fuck alone.”

[Ravynlee]

From where he now stood leaning with one arm on the back of Mike’s chair and the other on the table in front of him the detective huffed out a sigh before raising his eyes up towards the glass expectantly.

Snapping on a button Joel uttered a handful of words into it before the cop begrudgingly bowed his head to walk away. The sudden squeak of a chair being scraped across the floor summoned both men’s attentions.

“What the fuck- hey!”

Thumping the glass Joel strode from the room just as the officer was withdrawing from the prisoner’s side. Mike sat slumped briefly over his lap. He shuddered as he struggled to get his breaths back. He raised his eyes as Joel burst into the room. Just for one brief instant a look of fear flashed on his face. Watching the scene unfold Rob bowed closer to the glass still behind the mirror with a studious frown. The barely perceptible smirk he recognised tugging the corner of Mike’s mouth had Rob bowing his head and shaking it in disdain.

After Joel had reprimanded the detective Joel ushered another two officers lingering in the hall to enter the room and take Mike away. He waited, watching with his fists in his pockets as Mike was freed from his anchor and led out without so much as another word passing his lips. A few steps beyond he came face to face with the very man who had taken his freedom away hours ago. Briefly Rob and Mike paused as their eyes locked. In that narrow corridor there was nothing to pass between them but a silent pensive stare before Mike was shuffled away. Rob stared at his shoes, affording a glance upon the other man’s back before he was ushered around a corner and disappeared completely from view.

Slapping his taller colleague on the back again Joel wanted to know in his mild-mannered way if he was okay. Rob nodded at the floor. It took him a while longer to summon his eyes up and face the other man with that same disparaging pout beneath his brooding frown.

“What do you think?”

Rob shrugged.

“You believe that story? Home asleep with his wife. I was hoping he’d be a little more creative than that, but that’s what you get I guess… poster boy for clean living my ass. How virtuous can one man running a strip joint be?”

Again Rob could only shrug in response. He was having a hard time summoning his eyes up from the floor. Inclining forward Joel summoned his attentions with an encouraging smile.

“I know it’s hard but don’t worry, we’ll get him, alright?”

“Yeah,” Rob muttered generically.

His broad shoulders fell with a heavy burdensome sigh.

“I guess we wait and see what the wife says, though I can hear her response already. What would a woman see in someone like that anyway? I’ll never understand. Anyway… you want to go head off, go home for a while, get some rest or-?”

“No,” Rob said.

The grip of his hands locked around each elbow tightened considerably. He shook his head again and uttered a sound that was meant to be apologetic, remorseful and impassive all at once. He shrugged.

“Think I might… like get a few rounds off down stairs… clear my head a little. But thanks.”

“Sure. You want me to-”

“No. No, I’ll be… I just need to think… for a while. I’ll be all right. But you can… Check on Jo, see how she’s holding up or… whatever.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Joel acknowledged.

He waited a moment until Rob eventually, and with great duress, met his eyes. Squeezing the bigger man’s shoulder like a consoling parent Joel assured his rookie teammate that things were going to work out in the end. He nodded again. Though they hadn’t known each other that long the camaraderie of their brotherhood bespoke volumes in that one silent gesture.

“You remember it’s not your fault okay? You did what you could and you saved her life. She’s alive right now because of you. You remember that, okay? The rest of it will come together in good time. We’ll get this bastard one way or another. We always do, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll call you if there’s any change in her… condition.”

“Thanks.”

Watching the other man walk away Joel’s smile fell unsteadily from his face. He cleared his throat. Doubt plagued his eyes.

“Joel?”

“What?”

Rob was looking back at him as if wanting to get something off his chest but no words came out. His broad shoulders fell with a silent sigh. A moment passed as the rest of the precinct flowed on its frenetic pace. Shoving his fists in his jacket pockets Rob shrugged.

“Just… tell her I’m sorry okay?”

“Who?” Joel asked back.

Rob’s eyes however had lowered once more in defeat to the floor.

“I dunno. Both I guess. Like- it doesn’t matter,” he uttered.

A moment later he had turned his back and strode away making his way to the armory with a slow and heavy tread.

Joel watched him go with a small frown. Offloading a sigh he turned and made his way in the opposite direction out of the building and out into the amber brilliance of a dying afternoon.

 

---

[Ravynlee]

---

 

Hearing sound in front of her Joanna stirred from her sleep and snapped her eyes open. She jolted upright in her seat. The uncomfortable angle at which she had been forced to sit made her body protest the sudden movement. She winced.

“Rob?” she squinted into the bright light.

The silhouette before her slowly shed the obscurity of her sleep haze. The vision of a young man in a dark jacket, pants and black hat made her seize up in a moment of hesitation. It was by pure instinct she caught the flash of chain peer out behind the opened zipper of his coat and the small gleaming set of brass knuckles followed. She huffed out a sound of relief that threatened to let the tears loose behind her burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, for a second I thought… never mind. Officer Madden isn’t it?”

“Joel,” the man acknowledged. “Joel’s fine.”

“Joel,” Joanna repeated causing him to nod affirmatively.

He seemed nervous; Joanna couldn’t tell if he was being polite, respectful or anxious the way he scratched at his palm uneasily as he surveyed the room around him. Machines continued to beep to the left of him. The figure lying recumbent in the bed appeared to be asleep amid the dim fluorescent lighting. Clearing his throat Joel removed his hat to offer a cordial smile. Joanna couldn’t match it. Blinking aside at the bedside she struggled to blink through burning eyes and unshed tears. She pushed out a shaky sigh to ask what the time was.

“Uh… pushing six thirty, ma’am.”

Joanna rubbed her face and smiled despite herself into her palms. She s******ed but it could have just as easily been automated rather than sincere. With a groan, and to the creaking protest of the chair, she sat forward nursing her stomach tenderly.

“Must have nodded off… have you heard anything yet?”

“No ma’am. How is she?”

Joanna shrugged. Reaching out to snake a hand across the cool coverlet she clasped her sister’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Ravyn’s small white fingers remained motionless beneath. Joanna sniffled and swept at her eyes.

“How do you think?” she said.

Blinking up she met the detective’s eyes across the foot of Ravyn’s bed. Quickly she huffed out an apology.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, it’s okay.”

Joel nodded clasping his beloved Fedora between his hands to show he bore no ill will. Glimpsing aside to see him looking at her sister Joanna pouted to herself. It was surreal to think less than 48 hours ago they were standing alone together in her kitchen making idle talk over trays and trays of Halloween snacks. She shook her head struggling to comprehend the magnitude of everything that had happened both before and since. Following his line of sight back to her beloved sibling Joanna almost burst into a fresh spate of tears behind her palm.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I feel like I knew something like this was going to happen and I still couldn’t stop it. I keep thinking maybe if I gone out after her and made her stay somehow, maybe-”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But I’m her sister. I should have said something, done something, I don’t know. Just- I keep thinking of the last time I saw her. We were arguing for god’s sake over-” Joanna shook her head, grinning with a pained chuckle. “Over stupid petty things- all I keep thinking is if god forbid she hadn’t made it those would have been the last words she would have heard me-”

“Hey,” Joel said striding around to sink into a seat beside her. “You can’t think like that okay? None of what happened is your fault-”

“But he threw her out and I let him do it,” Joanna cried now no longer able to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks. “What kind of a sister am I? She almost died. She did die. That fucking bastard-”

Joanna’s words quavered. She stopped. Whatever else she had been going to say remained tightly locked away inside her heart as she burrowed her face behind her hands and howled again. The feeling of an arm around her was a blessing from God Himself. In her moment of utmost pain and suffering it never mattered who the comfort came from only that it came. But after so many hours stuck here alone and stranded on the sidelines of her sister’s recovery with so much pain and so many thoughts and so many unanswered questions running through her head Joanna was practically willing to cling to anything at all. The fact her sister laid in a gurney and not in a body bag right now shook Joanna’s foundations to their utmost core. She had suffered so much in such a short amount of time, her world had been literally tipped on its head in that one terrifying instant and she’d had to face it on her own. Running a quivering hand across her bulbous stomach the young mother-to-be smeared her eyes that were red raw and burning but smiled though it all with unwavering resilience. She nodded aside at the detective with an appreciative sigh.

Watching her beneath his arm Joel returned the gesture back to her in kind.

“Thank you. It’s nice finally having someone to talk to. I feel like I’ve been going crazy here all day. I just wish… I don’t know… what time did you say it was?”

“Six thirty. Almost seven. Have you eaten yet? If you like I could-?”

“No,” Joanna objected with a shake of her head.

Sniffling she slowly pulled herself forward out of his one-armed embrace. She shrugged as she dabbed at her nostrils with the tissues curled into a damp ball in her fist. She smiled miserably. The gesture was nothing short of aggrieved.

“I want to be here when she wakes up.”

She sniffled as she pondered her fingers with a distant stare. She barely even flinched as Joel rose from his seat and returned a moment later with a box of fresh tissues in his hand. Joanna nodded appreciatively but the words didn’t even make it to her lips. The fresh tissues had barely grazed her palm before tears old and new threatened to spill again. Waving a hand in front of her face Joanna struggled to get abreast of them. She was so sick of crying but there was nothing else she knew she could do anymore beyond the moment.

[Ravynlee]

“I just wish there was something I could do- that I could-”

“You need to keep your strengths up. And you need to stay positive you know. Not just for your sister but for her too,” he said, motioning towards her stomach. Joanna s******ed briefly as if amused. It was almost too easy to keep forgetting about her own woes in the wake of everything that had happened. “Sorry, Rob told us. A little girl right?”

“Yeah. Where is he?”

“Sorry?”

“Rob,” Joanna asked with detachment. “I haven’t seen him since…”

“He’s…” Joel paused.

He stopped. She stared into his face, into his eyes, all traces of their previous conversation gone, buried beneath the burden of tragedy that had a penchant for bringing the monumentality of the situation back to the previously mundane. Eventually Joel nodded. He cleared his throat and pondered the floor between his chucks with a shrug.

“Don’t tell me, I know this one. He’s busy right?” Joanna muttered. Some husband.”

She shook her head with a scoff. Glimpsing aside at her sister Joanna’s misery hardened with defiance. She snorted under her breath as she tucked her bedraggled hair behind her ears.

“I shouldn’t say that. God forbid if anything-… god, I can’t believe all this is happening to us you know? Feels so… I can’t get my head around it. I hate him so much it makes me sick to my stomach but he was the first person I could think to call. If he hadn’t have been there-”

“You don’t mean that. It’s natural to be upset.”

“Natural? Tell me one thing that’s natural about any of this!” Joanna snapped.

The door creaked open and a nurse strode in. She looked at Joanna with a cursory yet professionally sincere look on her face. Taking the initiative Joel reached out to clasp her by the forearm gently. It was meant to be a look of consolation but Joanna was practically scowling as she dipped her eyes to her lap and grit her teeth from letting any more tears spill out.

“I want to leave him,” she whispered under her breath.

When she looked up Joel was staring at her with his deep brown eyes.

“But I can’t can I? Especially not now. I just keep seeing his face back there, at her apartment… how hard he fought to keep her alive… Why doesn’t he ever try like that with us anymore? Huh. Jesus listen to me, I keep going on about my marriage after what she’s been through. I really am pathetic-”

“You’re not. You’ve been through a very traumatic-”

“Oh save me the textbook cliché okay? I’m frigging married to one.”

The nurse cleared her throat discreetly. Though Joanna didn’t look up her expression lost its venom in the space of a heartbeat. Joel uttered a sound of apology for the both of them. The nurse went back to her observations as Joanna uttered another tiny s******.

“God, just made me realise how much I’m starting to sound like…”

She stopped.

Raising her eyes up towards her sister’s ashen face Joanna swallowed a boulder with a loud knock to her throat.

“What I wouldn’t give to hear her voice right now, have her tell me to snap out of it, just have her say anything… I don’t even care of it’s about this MS-” she froze. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again her voice was flat, low, almost mechanical.

“ You know they don’t know if she’s ever going to speak again. He almost broke her neck do you believe that? How could he-? What kind of monster could- I can’t- I just keep seeing her in that bathroom- no one deserves to die like that- She’s my sister, Joel, my big sister, my-"

Turning her head Joanna began to cry again as Joel stroked her back. Struggling to get abreast of her emotions and failing miserably Joanna slumped aside and crumbled against the detective’s chest. She howled wretchedly, physically, mentally, emotionally sapped. The sound of her tears, underpinned by the constant beep of the ECG and respirator echoed with haunting clarity around that tiny dimly lit room.

“Come on, maybe we should-”

Stalling as Joanna raised her head, Joel waited, the words of comfort locked forever inside his throat as the grieving woman nuzzled into his neck - then his cheek. A moment later their lips met with blind lucidity. With her trembling fingers still squeezing a fistful of tissues Joanna clutched to his jacket, drawing herself forward further to deepen her kiss. It was brief but intoxicating. She was scared, lost, frightened, and possessed. Whether needing the affection that had been denied her so long or merely running on pure uninhibited instinct Joanna panted for breaths and poised lingering mere inches from his mouth. She fluttered open her eyes to look at him now as if for the first time so close that she wasn’t even able to render his details clearly. She sniffed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Hesitantly and with uncooperative fingers Joanna released her grip on him. Joel was watching her as he cleared his throat. Unable to face him and with her hands in her lap quaking Joanna rocked back and forth ever so slightly in her seat. She was at the mercy of a stiff restless breeze. The nurse had gone but the emptiness in her wake left a void so vast, so all-encompassing with the machines and the stillness that Joanna’s head was spinning. She struggled to swallow, able to taste another’s breath now in her mouth. The ring on her finger flashed as it caught beneath the fluorescent lights.

“I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” Joel said.

His voice was so quiet, so sincere yet so shaken it seemed as if it were echoing back to her over some great distance instead of directly beside her. He cleared his throat again as he stirred in his seat. His jacket rustled. The machines continued their relentless beeping. Outside on the other side of the door the hospital continued on with it’s usual hubbub.

“Maybe I should…”

“Yeah.”

Joanna sat staring at her lap as she heard him rise up from his seat and quietly make his way out of the room. Whatever he said after that she didn’t hear over the furious pounding of her heart. Though it was obviously meant to be consolatory in nature she didn’t acknowledge a word of it with her fingers fumbling in her lap. She heard his footsteps retreat and the door creak as it opened then swung to a cushioned close behind him. The second he left the tears suddenly spilled as Joanna buckled into her hand and sobbed. Over her fingertips she realized Ravyn was awake and blinking at the ceiling.

“Oh my god, sis…” she snivelled.

In a heartbeat Joanna had collapsed against her, her tears of shock, guilt and relief flooding the room wretchedly.

 

 

---

[Ravynlee]

---

 

Dave s******ed as he sunk down into his seat beside her. Wrenching the bottle from his hand Fox grinned. She sighed coming to rest with her head on his lap. He grinned back at her, the silver hoops that hung from his chin flashing in the coloured lights.

“God what I wouldn’t give to have seen the look on his face when they were dragging his sorry ass away,” Fox sighed.

“Yeah. Not pretty I hear.”

“And he’s still locked up?”

“Yep. He’s a ward of the state tonight, at least for a few more hours. Who saw that coming?”

“Not Mike, obviously,” Fox s******ed. Her s****** gave way to a cold vicious chuckle.

“Got to hand it to you Fox, Chas would be proud,” the bearded man in the blue flannel shirt named Dave Grohl acknowledged. With his beer raised in fist he held it aloft in the red-head’s direction. The tall tattooed man in the comically large dark glasses and long thick dreadlocks echoed the sentiment in kind. It was joined by others as words of praise flooded the room.

“Cheers.”

“Mozletov.”

“Salute.”

Raising her bottle Fox thanked them and drank from it thirstily. Her smile dwindled as Dave leant down to snatch the bottle from her hand and took a swig too. He smirked. Slowly, eventually Fox grinned back at him.

Music thumped. Around them people were slumped across sofas and across pillows on the carpet dragging on cigarettes and guzzling on bottles. Some were dancing to a loud angry rhythm. At a table in the corner someone was inhaling from a small glass pipe. Cocking a brow at her surrounds Fox couldn’t help but laugh again.

“God I love Halloween,” she said. “It’s when all the crazies come out.”

“This is one Halloween that fucker won’t forget for a while, I bet,” Dave agreed. Picking up a newspaper crumpled half beneath his leg he turned it over to stare at the headline and the archived picture beneath it of the tall Japanese-American shaking hands with some piece of ass in a suit. He scoffed. Snatching it from his hands Fox glared at it. She scowled.

“Trick or fucking treat, Mikey boy…”

Flicking out a lighter she ignited his face before the paper began to be engulfed by flames. With a chuckle she tossed it aside to the uproarious laughter of her friends as a few made to slap and stomp it out. The smell of smoke choked the already lurid air. The music was as always too loud and too angry, the people around her united in their loneliness and suffering. Though the night had yet to settle the party was only just beginning. If only for one night the streets belonged to them again - just like old times.

 

---

 

Staring at her fingers fumbling in her lap uneasily Rashell raised her eyes up to meet those of her husband’s.

“Please… tell me you didn’t do this,” she said again.

Mike continued to stare at her with his cool composed gaze.

Rashell’s pained sniffle finally had him bow his head and turn away. His lips were pursed in a pout. Rashell was apologizing with a tone that said she didn’t know what she was apologizing for. Mike cursed under his breath. The cuffs on his wrists jangled mutely.

“Jesus Christ, if you ask me that one more time-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just- the detectives-”

“Don’t you listen to them, you hear me?” Mike muttered stabbing at the table sharply.

His teeth were gnashed, his breaths laboured. Whether it was the sight of his wife sitting before him like a shrinking violet or for more than he cared to explain Mike huffed out an apology that quickly infected the rest of his face.

“I’m sorry… It’s just… I didn’t mean for any of this… you know…”

“I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not okay. It’ll never be okay. I told you this was coming didn’t I? I warned you not to- to open your mouth to anyone! Now look what happened.”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t…” Rashell sniffled miserably.

Whether it was the guilt burdening her words or the way she was staring down at his cuffed wrists relaxed against the table her words didn’t make it past her tongue. With a metallic clatter Mike slipped his hands back under the table again.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low, calm, and as collected as it always was.

He waited until his wife demurely struggled her eyes up again once more to meet his. Beneath the imposition of barred windows and an armed guard manning the door it was clear the weight of their predicament hung like lead around the poor woman’s shoulders.

“Everything will be okay, alright? Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of everything. I won’t see anything happen to you. You’ll be taken care of. I promise. No matter what happens, you remember that okay? I love you, you know that don’t you?”

Rashell nodded limply. Her eyes shimmered and her lips quivered as Mike reached out to gently cup the side of her face. The cuffs on his hands made her wince as she fell into his touch. With her fingers trembling she smothered his hand beneath hers. She bit her lip to stave off saying anything else that might ruin the moment, not knowing when it would be that she would be able to be alone with him again. The absence of his hand when he withdrew it was worse than the questions that plagued her subconscious mind. Even as she fluttered open her lids to stare back at him she was almost certain he was staring into her eyes to read all of her thoughts. Sniffing in an effort to compose herself she reached out to clutch one of his hands. His cheek shaded with stubble beneath her other sweeping palm scratched her skin. Another involuntary sound escaped like a sigh through her lips. The images those officers had shown her earlier were etched like a raw festering wound in front of her opened eyes. She swallowed so loud Mike had to have heard it.

There was no way her Mike, her husband, the love of her life could be capable of even thinking half the things they said that he had done. They had spent hours trying to put doubts and ideas into her head and when that didn’t work they tried turning her words against her to use against him. It wasn’t right it wasn’t fair. How could they? Why was the world so pitted against her husband like this, he was the best man she had ever known and ever would.

Rubbing the backs of his hands with her thumbs she smiled through her tears.

“I love you too,” she squeaked.

The sound of a knock on the door signalled a third party’s entrance into the room.

“Hey,” Mike sighed with falling shoulders. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been stuck here in hell without you. What took you so long?”

The man in the suit drew over a chair from a nearby wall to sink down into. The briefcase at his side kissed the floor with a gentle click.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Mike nodded.

Giving his wife’s hands a reassuring squeeze he relinquished hold before motioning towards the guard with a nod of the head.

“Babe, give us a minute would you. Just legal stuff, okay? Won’t be long. Please.”

Reluctantly Rashell obliged.

[Ravynlee]

Watching her depart the room he nodded at her affectionate wave before the guard stepped out to join her. Peering back over his shoulder he gave the prisoner bound in the chair a wink. Mike winked back. He smirked as the door came to a firm close.

“Fucking shit storm isn’t it?”

“I’m supposed to tell you I was delayed in traffic but we both know I’d be lying.”

“Isn’t that what lawyers get paid to do?” Mike grinned. It was hard to tell whether he was disguising his real feelings or was merely being playful. “What the fuck am I paying you for anyway?”

“To wash your car, give me a break,” the other man s******ed.

Slowly their smiles fell away as both men gave into a more subdued contemplative silence.

“Any word on that?”

“No. A few mutual friends are… looking into it as we speak. Your girl has dropped off the radar. The others are… disinclined to follow shall we say.”

“Cut the bullshit, we’re alone,” Mike snapped, jutting his chin towards the closed door pointedly. “The feds aren’t dumb enough to bug this place. Even if they did we both know they can’t use anything we say in court. Say your peace.”

“That mouth of yours is going to get you into a hell of a lot of trouble if your not careful,” the other man said matter-of-factly.

Mike snapped.

“Fuck you. Look at where I am. Care to enlighten me on how this shit could get any worse?”

“So did you do it?”

“Did you?”

“Mike, come on. I’m your lawyer. I have to ask. Don’t get on the defensive with me here. Whatever you did or didn’t do, we’ll sort it out. Make it go away. There’s a way out of any situation if you look hard enough. It’s called persistence.”

“Thank you doctor Phil. Enough of the reteric. We done yet with the feel-good moments? I’ve had enough of these fucking things. I feel like a fucking animal here, I’m about to break, I swear to god.”

“Fuck Him. Swear to me first. What do you know?”

“What do I know? How about what you know? What’s the word out there, Jeez? What are they saying? What’s the case look like against me?”

Jeezy shrugged. Digging inside his briefcase he withdrew a small silver flask to steal a sip from. Extending it to his client he smiled back calmly. Mike shook his head then appeared to reconsider. Stealing a thirsty drink from the flask he recoiled and swept his mouth with the back of his arm before handing it back.

“Tastes like cat piss. Next time something with a little flavour in it, huh?”

“Speak like a free man,” Jeezy teased as he stole another nip before discreetly slipping the bottle away once more.

Beneath Mike’s anxious gaze he withdrew a few pieces of paper to push across the table for Mike to peruse.

“What is this?”

“Clinical report.”

“I don’t want to read this shit-”

“Oh I think you will,” Jeezy said, craning forward over his seat to trace a few lines with his finger before he jabbed at it. “Uh hu. There. See that.”

“Humour me. It’s been one of those days,” Mike groaned.

Snatching the paper back the young lawyer sunk back in his seat and scanned the page to himself with his lips moving in silent penitence.

“Severe subconjunctival haemorrhage, odynophagia, fractured hyoid bone-”

“What the- English, please. Not all of us went to fucking Harvard.”

Jeezy smirked back smugly as he turned a page to peruse another.

“It means unless you’re a fucking body builder, or you were on some kind of psychotic bender, physically you couldn’t have inflicted these kinds of injuries. How much do you weigh?”

“What no wining and dining first?”

“I’m just saying what, you’re 160, 170 maybe - so’s she on a good day, maybe more.”

“There’s no accounting for taste. Would it help if I said she’s not my type?”

“Mike, this isn’t some high school sophomore we’re talking about here. I’m not saying it’s not possible but the evidence says-”

“Fuck now you’re going to accuse me of it too?”

“Wake up,” Jeezy warned as he sat forward in his seat. He stared across the table at the other man’s eyes seriously. “I’m talking reasonable doubt. Those two words are your best friend Mike. Memorise them.”

“Cute.”

“Look I have it on good authority that what trace evidence they found at the scene isn’t enough to draw a clear sample from so relax. They can’t get you there. I’m just saying,” the lawyer countered with raised hands before Mike could protest. “And you said the arresting officer, this… Ravyn’s ex-husband, I believe he hit you too didn’t he? That’s one mark against them. The other, well given the fact he entered your house without a warrant, that’s two, though even that under the guise of probable cause is really-”

Mike sighed. It was loud and heavy as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“So where’s all this headed? Are they going to try and sink me or not?”

“Oh they’re trying, believe me, but… luckily for us we have a few… weapons of our own up our sleeve. Trust me Mike, if they had anything at all to pin you for they would have done it before this. They’re clutching at straws and they know it. Trust me. Even if this… crazy reporter does finger you it’s not going to matter anyway.”

“And why’s that?” Mike muttered, pushing the links of his cuffs around distractedly.

Jeezy smiled as he shoved the papers back into his case and snapped it shut.

“Because she was drunk at the time this happened. And I don’t mean a few glasses I mean, her toxicology report is… well lets just say she’s far from what you’d call a credible witness. Besides, stress does strange things to the mind. Makes people see all kinds of weird shit that’s not there. It’s even been known to taint testimonies. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, heard of it? Did you know her kid blew his brains out a few years back? Maybe she lost the plot somewhere along the way, it happens. Like I told you, reasonable doubt. Juries eat this shit for breakfast. These commandos fucked up big time and they know it. Someone’s head is going to roll over this, I’d hate for it to be mine.”

“Yeah?” Mike grunted scoffing up towards the door as if somehow able to see beyond it with a sinister sneer. “If you’re taking numbers you could start with that fat fuck who got me in here earlier, some… big guy. I don’t know. Started with an A. After that…” he shrugged with a sigh. “We’ll see.”

[Ravynlee]

Jeezy smiled. Reaching out he clasped the other man on the shoulder affably. The two men locked eyes. Eventually Mike relented with a thankful smile of his own.

“Hang tight here a bit longer while I sort the paperwork out, I’ll have you home in time for the late night news. Just in time to watch yourself get exonerated.”

“You’re a real smart ass you know that?” Mike s******ed.

His smirk grew to a grin as Jeezy clasped his neck and the two men bowed to share a brief back slapping embrace.

“Thank you. I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me shit. Who paid out my mortgage when I was still a nobody with big dreams in The Kitchen? Without you I’d still be making coffees in that two-bit law firm and driving that old - what the hell was that thing? All I know was it was built like a brick tank on wheels. I owe you man. I wouldn’t have made it to junior partner without you. You’re the best.”

“No,” Mike said clapping the younger man on the back of the neck. “You’re family man. We look out for each other. That’s what families do. Get out of here, go do what you have to do.”

“Okay. Sit tight.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mike said prophetically.

He watched as the other man gathered up his briefcase before making his way to the door. With a knock he walked out and Mike’s smile fell away. Closing his eyes he rolled his head back to face the ceiling and let out a heavy soul-derived sigh.

 

---

(Thanks Jeezy for letting me "use" you too! :thumbsup:)

 

That's all for today. More later. Thanks again.

[crazy robster]

My beloved this was awesome! Not that the rest of it isn't, but this one was just... new people!! Romance!! Me and Joely awww my darling... And I'm also thrilled to see you survived my sweet angelicness Jojo couldn't cope without her beloved sis!! *hugs* Excellent sis, I liked the new additions, I love the way it's progressing, I'm getting more and more into it...OH by the way congrats about Matt's portrayal, couldn't have been more accurate...LMAO Also that's irrelevant but my router crap didn't allow me to get online and chat to you today my sweet, I now managed to get on through my old modem...grrr...anyway back on topic...sis I wanna tell you I'm thankful for this masterpiece you are producing here!! Love it! Love you! MMUUAAAHHH!

[Pheonix791989]

awesome updates. srry ive been absent but yeah... my studies are going really great im averaging a B+ now. would have strait A's if I didnt fail my eight AM class. No more eight AM classes for me. yeah but as far as the question goes.... i got popped the question and was a bit confused on what to do. I figured it out hopefully. but yeah go ahead and use that in the story as well if you want. haha.

[woodyloveslinkin]

im with mel ^ awesome updates. and my apologies as well that i've been absent for a while.

I've got so much on my plate right now, damn exams, damn social problems, damn hormones. I am really loving this story and I'm tryng my best to keep with story.

Why aren't a best-selling author instead of a dead-end cook?

I bet you could make it in the writing world.

Keep up the good writing!

[Ravynlee]

Thanks all.

To answer your question Sarah I don't know. I guess my 'day' job is what pays the rent, doesn't leave much time for the dream of being an author. No matter. Guess one rejection too many takes it's toll *pouts*

I dunno. Guess it's too late to start now huh? hmm.

Good luck for everyone doing studies.

And holy shit! Congrats Mel! OMG! haha that's great! What did you say...?

Anyway that's huge! Way-to-go.

And thanks sis *big idiotic grin*

 

---

 

A series of explosions rang out across the firing range.

Descending the staircase Frib watched on, wandering the corridor with an appreciative gaze. There were two, maybe three other officers down here blasting off a few rounds on their paper targets. Another uniform stood marking off some list on his clipboard. Smiling contritely at the officer’s cynical glimpse Frib strode past making his way towards a booth at the far left of the complex.

Alone inside his booth Rob squeezed off a few more bullets before he stopped to reload. The arrival of his junior partner beside him didn’t so much as cause him to batter an eyelid. Sliding the fresh magazine in he clicked, snapped and cocked his pistol. With his arms outstretched he quickly squeezed off a few more. Frib covered his ears with his hands at first then with a pair of safety ear protectors hanging just inside the booth before him. He watched and he waited. He didn’t know if the focused stare fixed on the bigger man’s furrowed profile was due to concentration or the fact he had unwanted company. With another buzzer the clip was emptied and the paper target began its long journey back towards them.

“Can I help you with something?” Rob uttered.

Withdrawing the empty clip he fed new bullets into it with loud abrasive snaps. His dark eyes never rose up from behind the protective glasses and his voice was the same flat bored monotone as it always was.

Clearing his throat Frib struggled to formulate his thoughts into words. His ears still rang from the aftershock of the noise. Despite the fact Rob was no longer shooting the young officer’s voice was still forcibly louder to be heard over the din continuing on further down the front of the field.

“I just- heard what happened - about- Is there something I can do?”

“No.”

The paper target whirred to a stop before Frib released it from its clip. The linear silhouette of a head had been punctured by a series of tiny precise shots. By a quick inspection Frib assessed almost all of them had perforated the centre of the target, obliterating it into a shredded gaping mass. His brows rose in admiration but any words he were about to relay were halted as Rob reached out and snatched the target from his hands and slammed it down on the table along with a half dozen or so others.

He must have been at this for hours, Frib assumed, frowning back a little irritably. He chewed his inner cheek a moment as he watched Rob load a fresh page in and thump the button with the heel of his fist. His hands were tight and red from the continual strain as he fed the new clip in just as he had done with the one previous. Waiting for the target to slip out into position Rob repositioned himself in the booth. His body language screamed what his words, or moreover lack there of, was attempting to convey.

Leave me alone.

Glimpsing down at the targets Frib laid a hand against his chest, pressing against his sternum. Beneath the layers of clothing his flesh even now still bore the brunt of the bruise that that stray bullet from their recent raid had indented against him. It no longer hurt like it had several days after but the mental projection of it lingered still in his waking conscious. Clearing his throat Frib looked up to watch his partner squeeze off another eight shots all in quick, successive, lethal pops.

The memory of that day pained his thoughts like an exposed nerve as he stood there watching. He had come so close to death and survived it but he didn’t feel vindicated or heroic as much as he did feel wary.

And to this day he still didn’t know who had been the one to fire the shot.

Hearing the last of the bullets dislodge and strike the target Frib flinched and briefly closed his eyes. When he looked up again Rob was staring at him with his dark eyes heavily lidded.

“What?” he asked bluntly.

Frib opened his mouth to speak.

“Gor- The captain wanted to see you.”

“He knows where I am.”

“He said to tell you it was important.”

Though the young man refrained from adding the other colourful diatribes and rampant cuss words he smirked regardless as if Rob would be amused by it had he actually known. With a snort Rob slammed his empty clip down followed by his pistol and the glasses and muffs from his ears. He grumbled under his breath. Though it was warm not sultry inside there was a band of sweat radiating down from the back of his shirt collar and beneath his armpits. Frowning back concernedly Frib watched on as Rob wove his way out of the booth. Snatching up his personal belongings he shoved them in his pockets and holster and made his way out. Frib made to follow only to realise Rob had inadvertently left something behind. On closer inspection he realised it was Rob’s cell phone. He must have accidentally mistaken it for a clip half obscured beneath the wasted targets like that. Scooping it up Frib called out to give it to him. But whether ignorant, stubborn, or he simply didn’t hear Rob strode through the corridor before he slammed a buzzer beneath his palm and took the stairs in his long angry stride.

Frib stood looking down at the phone in his hand with a cautious look on his face.

Dare he?

 

---