When Jon returned to his locker room, he went straight for his phone. There was a missed call from Claire, and a follow up text message. Damn it, he thought. He admonished himself for not being there when she wanted him. But deep inside he knew he wouldn't have been able to talk to her, to properly listen, until he had seen Carl. His head had been so clouded by fury that he wouldn't have been much use to her without getting it out. He read her message:
Can you call when you've finished up, please?
He scoffed. Just a nice calm message, as if nothing was happening. As he dialled her number, he found himself wishing he'd hit Carl, even though he knew that would've caused further trouble. Bastard deserved it.
"Hi." Claire's voice was soft and sad. Jon closed his eyes for a moment. Hearing her tone knocked him slightly, but mostly he was just glad to be talking to her, after the night he'd had. "Hey. Where are you?" He wanted to see her as soon as possible. "I'm downtown" she replied. "Have you heard about what went down in the meeting?" So casual, he thought, as he packed his bag with his free hand. "Yeah. Eventually. He'll get what's coming to him, don't you worry about that." There was a long pause, and Jon hoped she wasn't crying. "Can you come and get me? Please?" she asked, her voice soft. The usual confidence and happiness of her voice was gone. She sounded frightened, like a child. Jon felt a flicker in his chest. "I'm halfway out the door. Text me the address. I'll be there in a cab as soon as I can." He was reluctant to hang up from her. He paced as quickly as he could to the parking lot, pulling his bag behind him. As he opened the door to the lot, he heard someone call out to him. "Jon, can I talk to you for a minute?" He shot a quick look out of the corner of his eye. "Piss off, Zane," he replied flatly, pulling the door firmly and walking out. You're the second to last guy I want to be talking to right now.
He threw his bag in the back of a cab and told the driver the address Claire had text him. He pulled his cap low over his eyes; as always, there were plenty of fans waiting, but he'd walked right past them. He could tell by the flashes that they were still taking photos. He lifted his hand in a casual wave, just to make it seem like he was still trying. He thought hard about what he was going to say to Claire. She was upset, clearly not at him, but he had a niggling sense this was all his fault. She'd kept him a secret from all but two of her workmates for a reason. She didn't want her reputation to be tarnished by his. She'd made a lot of progress in her short time on the road and he was proud of her. He would hate to see anything taken away from her because of them being together.
Us being together. Us. He'd not had an 'us' in a long, long time. And even then it wasn't an 'us' the way he felt about his 'us' with Claire. In the past he'd always feared 'the talk' or moment where you worked out what the relationship was. Even the word relationship was something he usually ran from. But after everything that had happened tonight, all he wanted to do was confirm to Claire, with Claire, that he was all in. He was certain she would know that already, with the way he acted around her. The way she'd made him act. But he wanted to tell her so she could then tell everyone she worked with that they were more than bed buddies. That they were serious. That he was serious.
"You sure this is it, man?" the cab driver asked him. Jon looked out the window. They had pulled over next to a small park on the corner of an intersection. "It'll do," he said, passing the cabbie some cash. "Keep the change, pal." He grabbed his bag and stepped out onto the sidewalk. This is where Claire has been all night? The park was dark with one lonely street lamp in the middle, and trees blocking any light from the moon or surrounding buildings. Even he wasn't keen to go in there; it didn't look safe. He placed his hand in his pocket to call Claire when he heard her voice behind him. He spun around to see her standing a few feet away, holding her luggage. She forced the corners of her mouth upward in an attempted smile, but her heavy, sad eyes told the real story. He powered towards her, dropping his bag on the ground and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her into his chest, with one hand holding her head against him firmly. He sighed in relief. "I've been worried about you," he said kissing her hair. He felt her nod her head slowly. He pulled his head back slightly to look down at her. Her eyes were filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered. When she looked up at him, he felt a pulling in his chest which made it feel like it would cave in on itself. Her face screwed up slowly as the tears took over, and she buried herself back in his arms.
He'd never had to comfort a crying woman before. At least not one he cared about. He held her tightly against him, and stroked her hair gently. He kissed her head, hoping it would make her feel better. His mind drifted to Carl and he decided he definitely needed a punch to the face. No one makes her feel this way and lives to talk about it. Claire brought her hands up to her face, pulling away from him. She wiped underneath her eyes before blinking a few times and looking at him. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes dull. "I just needed to get that out." Jon swallowed. She looked so sad; her shoulders were slumped, her voice weak. And her eyes, the beautiful, deep blue eyes which always shined to accentuate her happiness were now missing that spark, accentuating her sadness. In that moment, he'd have given anything he had to make it better, to take it all away and have that smile back on her face. But I get the feeling this isn't going to be a quick fix.
"What happened? Have you been here all night?" Jon asked her. "A little while," she replied softly. "I didn't think anyone else would want to be in here, so it seemed perfect." Jon's eyes lifted to the park behind him. He felt a small flicker of anger inside his stomach. That was stupid; anything could've happened to you in there. But he let it fall away. She was safe, and he was with her. "Why did you leave?" he asked, prompting her out of her silence. "Zane made me. I've brought shame upon his team, don't you know." She chuckled, sarcastically, and Jon felt insulted. "Did he actually say that?" Claire shrugged. "Words to that effect. That I've called into question the professionalism of the team, and that he'll have to explain to the bosses that his top performer is nothing more than a lustful fangirl." He pursed his lips. "Did he even want to know the truth, or just jump to conclusions?" Claire dipped her head. "I tried to explain, but he didn't seem to be overly interested in the fact feelings were involved. He just wanted to get me out of there as soon as possible." Claire shook her head, as if she was still having trouble comprehending the day's events.
I thought Zane was better than that, Jon thought to himself. "So he took your allocations, I'm guessing?" Claire shrugged. "I guess so. I've not spoken to anyone but you. I didn't think I could handle talking to Lucy, so I didn't answer her calls." "She was worried about you," Jon said, running his thumb across her hand. He expected her to say something, but she stayed silent, eyes towards the ground. What do I do now? How do I make this better? He scratched his head. "Come on, let's get inside somewhere. We'll have a drink and change the subject, if you want. What time is your flight?" He pulled on Claire's hand, but she didn't budge. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. He saw the tears well once more. "He's suspended me. I'm going home tonight and staying home. Indefinitely." With that, she burst into tears, placing her hands over her face like a child. The high pitched sound of her inhaling between sobs took the breath out of him and made his chest ache. He pulled her into his chest and held her tightly, as if the tighter he held her, the sooner her tears would dry. I have no idea what to do. He just felt like hitting something, someone. He'd never felt so angry, so sad on someone else's behalf. He placed a hand on the back of her head, and lowered his lips to kiss her hair. He could feel the movement of her shoulders as she cried. "We'll fix this," he said, as comforting as he could. "I'll fix this this. I promise." He rested his chin on top of hers. He didn't care who he had to take out to make it happen. "I'm so sorry, Claire."