Chapter 50- Every beginning has its end


An: Thank you to my amazing betas who have been there for me, Chyrstis and Hunny, you two have been the best support throughout this story. I hope to have both of you through the next stories.


XXX

Troy scratched at his stitches before swearing quietly at the pain. It was the least of his problems, however, considering the others on his list. The question was, which was the worst? Johnny finding out and stabbing him, the gang disappearing amid a lower than projected arrest rate, Colonel Sanders handing him his ass, Julius getting immunity, or Ang…

No, he knew what the worst was. Going three weeks without a hint of those burnt, mahogany eyes.

Shit. That single word sparked a flash of memories.

The heat washed over him, making him stumble against the car,. The pain in his gut from the knife seared, while Johnny slamming against him in the same wave brought an all over ache. Everything hurt. Johnny's face pressed right against his, the horror he felt reflected in the other man's eyes.

"The boat," Johnny said, his eyes wide as he turned around.

"What boat?"

"The one Ang was on! Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Johnny grabbed his arm when he started to stumble towards the flaming wreckage in the river.

"To find Ang!"

"You got a knife in you-"

"Who the fuck's fault is that?"

"Sit your berry ass down."

"We both know my ass is pasty white."

Troy took a deep breath, and walked over to the sink as he zipped up his pants. He tried to concentrate on washing his hands, trying not to think so he could shake the memory of that night out of his head. He was methodical as he washed his hands, even cleaning under his nails, anything to delay going into his next interview.

Colonel Sanders' real name was apparently Jean-Baptiste De Sauveterre and was the meanest son of a bitch lawyer who ever graced Stilwater. Gone was that smooth southern accent that reminded him of Ang's, in its place was this drawl that grated on his nerves and made him talk slower than molasses on a hill in winter.

Great, now I'm picking up his idioms. Next thing he knew he'd be using ridiculous contractions like you'dn't've or something.

The man was a menace, his slow way of talking and mannerisms throwing them all off, half of the court not realizing how screwed they were for a good ten minutes as they processed his bullshit. With every word, the man slowly but surely dismantled Troy's work for the past five years. More than half of the people he had pulled in were going free on technicalities. He half-wondered if the judges were letting people go only to stop the man from litigating. He could talk for hours without wavering.

Deciding not to put it off any longer, Troy dried his hands and marched off to deal with this nightmare.

XXX

"Wine headaches are the worst, aren't they? I have a very good cure for it. Would you like me to show you? I'm very good at it. And unlike you, I don't tease."

Troy tried to sink down in his seat without anyone noticing. His face was bright red, like a overripe tomato ready to burst. He swore he could feel his heartbeat as his blush deepened. De Sauveterre kept a level gaze as more audio played, the gasps and sucking sounds making it obvious what was going on in spite of the black screen.

"Is there a reason for this… this pornography?" Randy said, his lip curled in disgust. The ADA's face was almost as red as Troy's.

"I say, if you think this is pornography, I am curious for your reaction to the bits with visuals." Troy felt his heart drop to his feet at that announcement. "Nanny cams are an amazing invention. My client's father was always overprotective of his daughters. They are such delicate blooms, after all." Jean-Baptiste put his hand on his heart as he looked to the sky. "Rest his poor soul, Benedict always dreaded a rogue would defile his innocent daughter, and alas, no one was there to save her from your man here." He gestured wildly at Troy. "Confess young man, or would you rather sully all of our sights with your unholy actions."

"Did you minor in theater when you went to law school or is this just a southern thing?" Troy asked, after gawking at him for a full minute.

"As intimate as you were with little Angelique, you should know the answer, or was all your time spent on blaspheming with her?" The man asked with a crooked brow.

"Again what's the point of this?"

"Well, you see Randall-"

"Randy," The ADA snapped.

"Now, Randolf, I'm trying to talk here. If you insist on interrupting me, I will leave and take this pornography, as you call it, to the media."

"I'm sure the public would enjoy it," Randy sneered and stood up. Jean-Baptiste folded his hands over his stomach and looked at Troy.

"Would you like to inform Rudolph here why he should care?"

Troy shifted uncomfortably. "That's me and Ang-"

"No shit, Sherlock," Randy snapped.

"Before she turned eighteen," Troy finished shamefully. He didn't bother adding how close to eighteen she had been. It didn't matter, he was the adult, he should have put his foot down and stopped. He hated himself for it, hell, he hated himself for getting involved with her. She would've been safe if he hadn't taken an interest in her.

No.

She wouldn't be. She was hard headed and full of herself. She would've always been trouble, but without him, she wouldn't have bombed the damn police.

"What the ever loving fuck, Bradshaw!?" Randy practically screeched.

"As you can see Raymond, it would look poorly on your whole investigation for your star officer to have had relations with a minor. After all, if he is willing to seduce a child, what other unsavory activities did he engage in?"

"My name is Randy!" The ADA yelled like a child.

"I know, but since you and yours insist on calling me by that insipid moniker of Colonel Sanders, I'll return the favor." A cordial smile graced his face. "Now let us deal, gentlemen."

XXX

"Monsieur Gat, I must insist that you-"

"Fuck off, chicken-man. I'm not coping to any of that shit," Johnny said as he rolled his shoulders trying to work out a kink. Being chained to the table wasn't exactly good for his posture. He swore the fuckers were purposely making his shit short to annoy him. It certainly wasn't helping his mood. "Plus, I fired you, remember? Legal Lee's got me."

"That man is an utter idiot. He's nothing more than an immoral ambulance chaser," Jean-Baptiste huffed with disgust. "I'm trying to help you."

"Nah, you're not. I know you're just doing this cuz of Ang. She'd kick your ass, if you didn't." Johnny had to look away from the man, the look of loss and grief paining him more than the one in his shoulders. "She's going to wake up," he said softly.

Jean-Baptiste pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his eyes for a moment, before drawing himself back up and putting it away. He watched the man collect himself, wiping all emotion from his face, his hands gripped tight around his cane.

"There comes a time when we have to face reality, Monsieur Gat. You will be sentenced to death if you don't take this plea and gamble with your snake oil salesman of a lawyer, and…" he took a shuttering breath in, closing his eyes for a moment again, his shoulders losing some of their height, "And Angelique isn't going to wake up."

"Fuck you, I ain't going to spend the rest of my life in jail and Ang is going to wake up." He slammed his hands down as best as he could.

"The young are always so optimistic, I envy that." He sighed. "I'm taking her home. I can't stop that horrible philanderer from seeing her as long as she's in this god-forsaken city, but the least I can do is keep her away from him."

"Surprised he's even bothering." Johnny figured Troy would have given up his little scheme with Ang by now, thinking the joke wasn't really one after all, but shrugged it off. He was a lying berry without a caring bone in his body when Johnny's wasn't in him.

"Sees her every Wednesday and Saturday like clockwork, probably on his way there right now." He looked at his watch. "They should be in the process of moving her now. I am generous enough to allow him a final goodbye."

"You should beat him with that cane of yours," Johnny suggested with a smirk.

"I can barely tolerate the food in this city, do you really think I could tolerate the food in these prisons?"

"Eh, it's not that bad," he said shrugging it off. He signaled the guard to come and get him out of here. "You tell her I expect to see her ass at my trial." He ignored the look on the old man's face. "I bet you my left kidney."

"Why left?" Jean-Baptiste asked with a confused look on his face.

"If I'm going to lose a kidney because Ang is being lazy, I'll lose the one with two ureters, giving me nothing but kidney infections and shit."

XXX

Kidnapping was hard work at times, today's kidnapping was only slightly easier due to the victim being in a coma. Forged paperwork let him by the nurses who happily unhooked the girl from all the machines that monitored her vitals. They were steady as the IV bags were switched for the journey, the bags themselves only less than a quarter empty, but swapped for new so they could charge the insurance for a whole new bag. The catheter followed, the contents checked before a new container was placed. He smiled at the nurses as they piled extra blankets on her, making sure she was tucked in tight for the ride down to the ambulance, chatting them up until he hit the call button and sighing in relief when the doors closed. So far, so good.

He looked over the girl, the skin grafts were taking well, and would be unnoticable in a few months, perhaps a year if they were unlucky. Her hair was growing at a phenomenal rate, the bald patches already filling in. The nasty scar on her face would probably cost them the most money. The ones on her body could easily be hidden with dim lights, though some people would enjoy them.

Dmitri wouldn't care in the end how little she brought in. It was the principle of it. You never screw him out of money, or you'd end up getting screwed in a more literal sense.

His way through the hospital wasn't even commented on as he passed by since patient transfers were a common sight. It wasn't until he was at the second elevator that he was even noticed, and with his luck, it was a cop.

"Hey yo, where you going?" The cop asked as he stood in front of the bed, his hands gripping the footboard.

"Transfer to St Mary's," he said with a shrug, pointing to the paperwork on the bed.

"Nah, no fucking way. Take her back upstairs." The cop gave the bed a push, not even looking at the paperwork.

"Doctor's orders."

"I don't give a fuck what doctor said what, get her back in her room before I bust your ass," the cop growled. There were too many people, too many witnesses at the moment.

"Whatever," he said with a shrug and started to turn the bed around. The cop grabbed the paperwork and started leafing through it, following slowly behind them. He ignored the cop's muttering as they got on the elevator and waited for the doors to close. He smirked as the cop went down as he hit him in the back of the head, blood pouring from his face as his nose connected with the closed doors. He made quick work, disconnecting everything from the girl with a practiced ease and picked her up in his arms. There were other ways out of this hospital.

XXX

Why the hell would she be getting transferred, especially to St Mary's which was the fucking hospital that had hurt her in the past? Troy couldn't make sense of the handwriting in front of him, it looked like chicken scratch. The orderly didn't seem to care and just ignored him as he attempted to make sense of this. Perhaps it was that bastard lawyer's idea. He had no problem with her going to a better hospital, just not that hellhole. He'd give the old man a call as soon as she was back in her room. Just because he was trying to ruin his career, didn't mean that Troy couldn't be civil about it.

THWACK

Troy groaned as a bomb went off in his head, the world spinning and slamming into him rudely. His vision swam with spots and stars as he groped for the railing on the elevator, trying to pull himself back up, only to be kicked in the gut as the orderly ran out of the elevator.

"Ang!" He called out for her out of habit, knowing that while she wasn't going to answer he was still watching her be stolen away. He cursed liberally as he got up, his vision swimming as he stumbled out and down the corridor. While he may have been concussed, the orderly was slowed down by Ang's surprisingly heavy frame. All that muscle and height came with a price after all. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but put her down and I won't empty my gun into you," Troy snarled as he caught up with the guy.

"You wouldn't shoot, you might hit the girl," the man said with a smirk, holding Ang tighter in his fireman's carry. Troy narrowed his eyes and lowered his gun to shoot the man in the leg, taking delight in his screaming. Part of him winced as Ang fell to the floor with a thud, but Troy forced himself to ignore her as he raised his gun and emptied it into the man's chest. He wasn't taking chances. No one would take her away from him again.

XXX

"I will blacken your name and ruin your family," Jean-Baptiste proclaimed dramatically as always as he tried to stare Troy down.

"Go right ahead, I'll even help," Troy said flippantly much to Randy's horror. "Ruin whatever you like. Randy here usually buys his coke off of the dealer on Sixth and Girade."

"I assure you, Mr Bradshaw is lying."

"Fuck off Rampart," Troy said. "You want to go, we'll go. I'm going to keep her safe no matter what the cost. You can always visit her in prison." The man who attempted to steal Ang had been with that Russian. Bastard probably had people everywhere and he didn't know who to trust. Putting Ang in the prison was the safest place. It was secure, no one could get in without clearance and there was no way in hell she'd ever be stolen. No. Ang wasn't going to leave that prison unless she walked out.

He'd make damn sure no one ever touched her again.

And when she woke up, he'd win her back.

Or die trying.

When she woke up.

Someday.