Chapter 13:
After an evening observing merry faces of friends, family, and unknown guests, Ryan Evans had removed himself from the crowded hall to the empty room facing a tinted glass door that opened to a beautiful garden. The young man was uncomfortable at the presence of many, listening to speculations and scandals that he held no interest in. But the actual discomfort came from his father who sat next to him during the evening.
He tried to be warm and pleasing to the other guests but he found it difficult to keep a clear face and a constant smile resting on his lips. The blond knew that it would not take long for him to fall back to his natural tendency to throw flippant remarks or snarky comments to anyone who chose to converse with him.
Eyes studying the silvery-blue garden from his seat, he inhaled the cold air of the room that scented weakly of mint and lemon. This was one of the few private VIP rooms in the Sharpay's restaurant. He needed privacy and pretty much guess that his sister would not mind him spending a majority of his time here. After all, he chose the closing act, something that he would not even opt for years back.
Tonight, cloaked in the shadows, he contemplated of his bleak future alone in the dark room. Questioning his chance of survival, he noted it was his parents turn to do a duet on stage. He could hear his mother jovial voice ringing in the air. Turning his head, he squinted as he studied the distant figures who he presumed were his parents.
Shifting his attention back to the garden, he became aware of the two figures outside. Without even needing to focus his entire attention on the pair, he knew who they were – Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez.
Not understanding why, he stood up and positioned himself next to the French door as he listened intently to the conversation between them. He knew it was rude to eavesdrop on anyone, but he blamed it all on his curiosity.
Leaning himself on the wall, he cleared his troubled thoughts and filled his mind with the soft conversation outside.
"Troy…" the lady in a white dresses muttered, fingers lacing around Troy's wrist. "Can't you just forget this?"
"How? How are you expecting me to forget about this?" Troy lashed out, rage clear in his lowered voice.
"I know I can't ask you to forgive me, but at least think of Abigail. She needs us," Gabriella stated, fingers combing away strands of black hair.
From his position, Ryan observed the pained expression on Bolton's face. He felt pity for the man as he watched the man winced at some passing thought in his head. Anger resided within his chest as he watched Gabriella placed a kiss on Troy's cheek.
The anger was not mainly due to his love for the brunet. The blond knew mental manipulation and sabotage that was the preferred tactic used by the lady. It was a psychological attack, hitting all the weak spots, expecting emotions to burst from the cracked dam.
"She is too young to be involved in our dispute. Let's just settle this and come home, Troy," Gabriella said.
"Hypocrite," Troy said spitefully. "The very fact that you have brought her up in this conversation has already shown your interest in using her to resolve the mess you have created. Not only do you fail as a wife, you also fail as a mother."
"No! How could you say such a thing?"
"How can you do such a thing?" Troy spat. "Just be honest Gabriella, I'm tried hearing your lies and half-truths."
Ryan watched Gabriella shook her head in anger; her black tresses bounced light in the air and her pretty face distorted in anger and grief.
"I don't want a divorce."
"I do… I just can't stand seeing that face of yours anymore."
Tired eyes fluttered close momentarily as he pushed himself away from the wall. Like a trained hound, he could sniff the potential problems that awaited the brunet. Walking toward the table, he rubbed his wet eyes.
He was not being emotional. How could he? He was a man drained from all emotion, incapable to love and empathize, yet a few seconds ago, he had sampled raw pity that flared out from his heart.
"What?"
Ryan halted in midstride, raised his head, his curiosity piqued again. A frown settled between his brows as he recognized his father's voice. There was a mixture of fear and anger in that old man's voice.
A cloud of confusion misted his mind as he slowly moved toward the window.
"I don't understand. It…no!" his father said, lowering his voice. "There are some technical problems but I assure you, things will be progressing smoothly after the fix."
Chatting business at such an hour? Now, such thing was not unusual if the man on the phone was Ryan or some workaholic man with no life, but his father? That was interesting. His father was a man that feared and complied with nobody. All business calls after six would not be entertained and he made the fact pretty clear among his acquaintances and workers. Even his clients knew well of his habit of leaving the office early to spend some quality moments with his family – which in Ryan's opinion was nothing but pure bullshit.
Glancing over his shoulders, he stared at the platinum orbit that hung high in the sky, adorned by its sparkling admirers. Shifting his focus away from the moon, he gazed at his empty wine glass on the fine mahogany table while his ears registered and consumed every single word his father uttered. Another glass of wine or scotch would wet his lips in desirable flavour and warmth, which at the moment, seemed no more but like a distant dream.
"It's a difficult situation here. I…I know very well the operation and will not be of burden to anyone."
Burden? Ryan's blue eyes brightened at that word as he edged closer to the window, discarding the thought of liquor. He suppressed his need to sigh in agitation. The need to expel the deoxygenated air together with the worries and wants in his head was irresistible but he managed to keep his lips firmly riveted to one another while he placed his hand beside the blue china.
"The company is now at a standstill. It will not progress till all the matters are dealt and when I received your permission to proceed. Frankly, this is a process which I do want to undergo but if you insist."
Ryan smiled in mockery. Progress?
There were reasons behind the standstill. The inactivity of the company had raised many questions among their share holders and aroused the interest of the public. Months back before his return, he would have questioned his father equally. He would demand a position in that corporate body, rivaling Bolton in excellence and efficiency.
Now, Ryan Evans held no such interest.
It was actually quite erratic of him; well actually it was more than 'quite'. The young man had spent his time, energy and effort for the company, to gain his rightful place in the Evans mansion. He had wasted his life, forcing himself to change into a man who lived his life in the shadows, scheming and plotting.
Recalling his brief meeting with his father a few days back, there was actually another reason due to his appearance in the study. He would not mind doing a David Copperfield. Respect and manners was not the sole reason why he agreed to see his father. Etiquette was something he rarely practiced ever since he shaded his old skin.
He turned up to voice his sudden disinterest in the company. Yes, he would still hold on to his share but honestly, he wanted to rid it immediately. It gave him a sense of authority and power upon the company, and especially his father.
This had nothing to do with the investigation carried by Thornton. It might have contributed something but actually it was his instinct that told him propelled him down the path. It had tugged at the corner of his brain, begged to be notice and finally he succumbed to it.
It had brought him to an interesting hypothesis.
Ryan moved away from the window, approaching the table to pick his wine glass. Fingers wrapped lightly around the frail stalk that supported its heavy, crystal top.
A hypothesis supported by Devereux's words: You still think I am fully responsible behind the crash?
Yes, Devereux was not alone in it. In Ryan's opinion, Devereux's involvement in his murder was the least. That man might have interfered with the police investigation, shushing up the media and disappeared some evidences.
Making sure that he looked presentable, Ryan Evans pulled out his shades as he walked toward the door in a steady gait, his shoes rapping against the marble floor.
His audiences were waiting for him. They were waiting for him, hoping to see a great performance from him. He could hear his name being called, followed by Bolton's. Placing the shades on the bridge of his nose, he smiled – a supercilious smile – as his hand turned the doorknob. They were waiting for him…
…so was his murderer….a man he once called father.
The door swung opened, the bright light assaulted his eyes.
__
He took another step forward, absorbing the details of his surroundings before he moved away from the door. Black shades hid wary eyes as Garrett moved swiftly away from the alley, his olive green overcoat flapping in the wind.
Garret inhaled the foul air as he cleared his head. Everything was in position, his men ready and waiting for his signal. There was slight anger in him for dragging William Hall into it, but he had no choice – he trusted no one.
There was no need for the dashing man to turn round; he knew well that he was followed by a man that was armed with a semiautomatic Colt. Making a turn, he disappeared in a flap of his overcoat as the man darted forward quickly.
Garrett watched with faint amusement at the man's startled expression from the side of a gargoyle of an old, abandoned bank. He leaped off from his hiding spot, landing soundlessly behind his assassin.
"Hello," Garrett greeted, surprising the man. The assassin's eyes widened but before he could react a gloved fist smashed the side of his face followed by a sharp blow to his abdomen. The assassin was hurled to the side of the empty street.
"Fuck!" the bald man spat, blood dripping from nose as he pushed himself up.
Garrett simply smiled. "I was expecting more," the colonel voiced his disappointment, raised the semiautomatic Colt he snaked during the combat, aiming it directly between the man's eyes.
"See you later in hell." The colonel remarked coldly.
Bang.
Author: Bet you see that coming...Ryan' dad is the man who planned Ryan's murder, but that's all I am telling. Ryan,Troy, Thornton and Loki are not alone - Garrett's men. It's not that easy...I'm going off now. Fever.