Unbreakable – Chapter 7
This chapter contains tough angst and some foul language and huge plot revelation…for Gene.
Hope you like it. Reviews and re-reviews welcome.
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Summers had stood up from the chair and faced Alex square on. Her heart was pounding in alarm and the dreadful scene that would inevitably play out was causing her to panic. She dreaded hearing the knock at the door.
Summers eyed Alex warningly and spoke to her frantically in hushed tones, "Expecting someone? Who is it? Tell me now!!!"
"It…it's…my boss…DCI Hunt."
"It's Saturday. What is he doing her now—today?"
"Work. He's coming to discuss…a case…we're working on…"
"Stop lying to me Alex." He hissed.
After waiting patiently in the hallway and pouting. Gene pounded on the door again.
"Bols? Open up!"
Summers flung open the door. Sensing something wrong, Gene eyed the stranger, stood bolt upright and pushed Summers aside as he stepped inside the door. His eyes frantically seeking out Alex.
"Mr Hunt. Join us—why don't you!"
Alex stood in her kitchen cringing and confused. Gene looked at her and back at Summers and back again. He did not trust the situation he had just walked into and suspected the worst. Summers was dressed in a smart dark suit. Gene had picked up his well spoken greeting. The man was also calm and seemingly enjoying the situation.
"What the fuck is going on here?!!!" Gene glared at Alex. She could see the anger boiling up in him. His eyes flashed with fury and jealousy.
"You haven't told him Alex. Have you?" Summers quizzed Alex, eyebrow twitching, enjoying the unfolding scenario—fanning the flames. Alex was unsure of Summers motives for making them appear like some sort of secret liaisons.
Gene's attention never deviated from Alex. She could plainly see the fury and the hurt in his eyes. He shook his head side to side trying to shake off the sight of finding his Alex obviously compromised. He uncaringly tossed the envelope containing Alex's jacket aside to the floor.
"Gene…I…"
"Fucking what?" Gene's nostrils flaring, a film of sweat across his forehead. He turned to face Summers, anger transferring to his fists. Alex could see the physical signs of Gene about to lose control. She felt compelled to try and explain, whatever the costs.
"This is Martin Summers. He's a police officer. I want…I wanted…to tell you about him. It's….it's not what you think…at all Gene." Alex pleaded with him, reaching out to take Gene's arm and get her to face her once more.
However Gene dodged her touch and lunged at Summers to grab him by the lapels of his wool coat and lift him clear off the ground against the wall. A framed poster crashed to the ground behind Summers and Gene tore it away and kicked it across the room.
Alex, out of her mind, fumbled with her words. Overwhelmed by the speed of events—the impossibility of explaining and calming the situation between the two men too much to comprehend.
Summers smiled at Gene. He had researched the man who was pinning him to the wall—knew he was dangerous and out of control. But he also knew something of the nature of the Hunt and Drake dynamic.
Frantically Alex pleaded, "Gene…please…let me explain! I'll tell you everything. Everything! You just need to know…first…need to know…to trust me…it's not what you think."
Gene found himself letting go of Summers but not before flinging him along the wall, to the ground.
Summers picked himself up and brushed himself down. All the while with a strange smile across his face. The smile confused and angered Gene to the core. Alex could not figure out why Martin Summers would want to appear like a compromised lover being found out.
"Tell me then, Drake! Tell me what the fuck is going on 'ere!!!" Gene boomed.
Hearing Gene use her professional name was a bitter blow. The last hours had been so utterly perfect. In front of the mirror in the middle of the night in Gene's bathroom she had resolved to tell Gene everything. And here she was forced into that situation in the most frantic of circumstances. With her teeth raking at her bottom lip she began to nervously answer Gene's demands.
"My name is Alex Drake. I am a police officer. What I need to tell you…Gene…is that…I'm from the future…This is 1982 but I am actually a detective from 2008. Somehow…I was sent back in time. Boris Johnson is the name this man has been using to have me under his control. He is also from the future. He knows about Project Rose…and…"
Gene gawked at her in disbelief and took small backward steps, frantically looking between Alex and Summers.
"She's right, you know." Summers smirked.
Gene's eyes launched towards Summers.
"We're from 2008. It's crazy, I know. But it's true." He chuckled.
Alex moved towards Gene. He was too much in shock to prevent her from getting any closer. She grasped his arm and squeezed believing that somehow the physical contact would make him sober up from his anger and confusion and believe her. He stepped back further and dropped his arm out of her grasp without facing her.
"The future???...Two thousand an'…" Gene puzzled.
"Eight. I'm from the year 2008." Alex reasserted.
"Who the fuck are you people and what the bloody hell is going on 'ere?"
Alex felt for Gene, the depths of her emotions were more than she could bare but she persisted to speak calmly. It felt awful and torturous but at the same time it was a huge relief to her to be able to speak aloud about these crazy truths and to have them heard.
"I know. I know—It's insane. Utterly insane. But it's true Gene. All true."
Summers, having straightened himself up, walked calmly into Alex's lounge and flopped himself on her sofa and put his feet up, hands behind his head, as if to relax. Gene watched the strange man make himself at home before casting his eyes to the floor at Alex's feet—unable to make eye contact. His eyes slid from side to side as his mind puzzled.
"In 2008 I was in a hostage situation with…my daughter…and Arthur Layton. He shot me in the head and I woke up in 1981. You found me with that ghastly drug dealer. I was dressed as a prostitute. The only thing I remember about getting here, to 1981, was being shot and then waking up on that party boat on the Thames." Alex pressed her forehead with her fingers, mind whirring. "It's just so insane. I know, Gene. I've been living in...hell…" The last bit of her plea only a whisper but she regretted saying it as soon as it escaped her lips.
Gene cocked his head to one side as he stood and listened to the madness pour out of the woman he was in love with and had felt months of anguish over. He felt suddenly weary and drained as the adrenalin coursing through his veins gave way to a buzzing in his ears.
On the sofa Martin Summers calmly crossed his arms and watched the odd scene playing out before him. Gene looked, stunned, hurt and confused. The love ache he had felt for Alex for months had instantly turned into a worse feeling of love sorrow and humiliation.
Suddenly Gene bolted for the door. He flung it open with such force the door handle punctured the opposite wall. He hurried down the stairs without a backwards glance, the sound of his boots pounding angrily down the stairway.
All Alex could hear was the screeching of tires from the Quattro peeling away from the curb. She stood there shivering in shock as she watched Martin Summers shake his head at her.
"Get out you bastard! Get the hell out of my flat!!! Get away from me!!!" Alex hurled towards Summers sobbing.
"This is what it is like, Alex, I know. I can't actually help you because I can't actually help…myself. We're trapped in this time and there's nothing we can do about it. I'm numb to it now, the chaos that we cause for ourselves…here. I thought at one point we could be useful to each other. But I see now that you are
preoccupied with that northern oik and your mind is off the ball."
Alex watched Summers walk out her front door. She slammed the door behind him. She stood there panting in exhaustion and adrenalin, her hands in tight fists. Her nails had dug so hard into her palms that she drew blood. She stood there and wailed before falling to her knees and screaming until she was hoarse.
Outside in the hallway Martin Summers had calmly stood and listened to her agony before she heard him move away calmly and descend the stairs.
Now alone, the flat silent, Alex picked herself up from the kitchen floor. She steadied herself by pawing her hands along the walls as she headed to the bathroom in a daze. Gripping the bathroom sink she peered at herself in the mirror. Her face drained of blood, the whites of her eyes pink and bloodshot, tiny blue veins at her temple throbbing. Her hands still shaking in shock she desperately fingered the tied bow of Gene's shirt at her waist and pushed her wrists up to her face so that she could smell the scent of Gene. He must be feeling wretched. Betrayed. Gene. What have I done to him?
Concentrating on her breathing to try and collect her thoughts, she filled the sink with warm water and bathed her bleeding hands and began to wash her face. Although not feeling calmer, her head felt clearer and she began to formulate a plan, forcing herself to obey her training in stressful situations. Thoughts of the beautiful night with Gene and the happiness of earlier that day empowered her to believe that all was not lost. She resolved to tidy herself up and make Gene understand. Gene finding Summers and her in her flat was bad enough, his jealousy and shock of betrayal clear to see but having spilled her insane story to him was a blow too far—for anyone.
Having peeled off her clothes, Alex sat naked on the cold rim of the bath as she waited for the shower to cocoon the room with steam. She knew Gene deserved to know everything, even if she did not understand it herself. She resolved to make it clear to him, as she had decided looking in the mirror in Gene's flat. She had to make him understand. He's the love of my life. Give him time and an explanation, I can make him understand.She stepped into the shower and stood there silently allowing the hot water to wash over her as she wept.
Gene had sped away and found himself driving aimlessly and recklessly through London's streets. He repeatedly pounded the steering wheel with frustration and anger. Overhead dark grey bellies of cloud had formed and the sky opened up, rain slanting down in sheets. Streetlights flickered to life as the afternoon light drifted into a wet, miserable evening. Torrents of rain covered the windscreen of the Quattro as Gene waited at a streetlight, not realising the light had changed to green. A car behind tooted its horn. Gene sat there and watched tiny rivers of rainwater flow down the slanted glass before him. Another horn sounded further behind before Gene pulled away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alex's orchid resting on the passenger seat. He gritted his teeth and headed for home. Alone.
