MUGGING
Donovan had never been so pissed off and angry in his life. In a two-week span he was supposed to have spent with Larkin in D.C., he had had to beach himself due to a wickedly strange fog that enveloped the entire city. When his flight was canceled, the upper brassholes had sent down a priority case, and he and the team had had to leave the country the moment the fog lifted. He had called Larkin with a hasty apology, but she said she understood, and she did, but he still felt like shit. The end of October was bust. Neither of them could visit again until she made her move at the last of November. As he dragged his luggage into the apartment, he left it out beside the couch. He had no desire to unpack today, not after the long ass flight he'd been forced to endure. He needed to take a nap. However, before he passed out completely, he wanted to call Larkin first and let her know he had gotten home safe and sound. When he called her office, the receptionist told him that she had called in sick. He found that odd. He hadn't recalled one time that she'd called in sick throughout the duration of their relationship. It worried him. Forgetting the flight, his jet lag, and the enormous mound of paperwork awaiting him at the nest, he called Larkin's phone number. It rang almost five times before she picked it up. Her voice sounded thick and fogged with sleep.
"Selena? Are you okay? They said you called in sick," he said.
"Oh, hi, Frank," she said. "Yeah, I called in, kind of had to. Been a little sick and draggy lately. Somebody at work has the flu and she came to work and spread the joy around. I suppose it was my turn to experience it first hand. I'll be fine. How are you? I miss you."
He sighed a little. She didn't sound fine. Her voice was low and exhausted. "I miss you, too," he said. "I hate it that I can't see you. I just walked through the front door, but there's no way I'm setting foot inside the nest today." He listened to her on the other end of the line. She yawned a little and said 'hmm mmm.' "Selena? Are you with me?"
"Yeah, sorry, babe. I was drifting; I'm just a little tired."
A little? "I think there's something going on, Selena, maybe more serious than the flu. Have you seen a doctor?"
"What? A doctor? No, not for the flu. In a couple of days, I'll be back on my feet jumping around." She could hear him trying to say something, trying to protest. "Jesus Frank, I don't need a doctor. Enough about my flu. Where did you go? What did you do? Did you see any dancing girls?"
"Nice subject change, Selena," he said lightly.
* * *
Frank Donovan [whom Grant would always think of as Chase Martel] was not the only person who had seen Ellen Landry-Cole on television. Grant had seen her as well. Unbeknownst to Martel, she had a direct tie to Ellen as well. In fact, the two women were first cousins. They had grown up together and were about the same age. Of course, Grant was the favored of the two. She was the 'pretty' one; the one everyone thought would succeed. Ellen was overshadowed by her much prettier cousin and basically idolized her. Grant being the bitch that she was might have taken advantage of that idolatry, but she didn't. Instead, she took her odd duck cousin under her wing. Before long, they were completely inseparable. Ellen was the only member of the family Grant trusted and loved. She loved her so much that she helped Ellen get her swank job at the state department. Actually, if the truth were known, she was fucking one of the higher ups at the time and had begged him to hire her cousin. She thought it would bring Elle out of her shell somewhat and introduce her to more people. Her pitiful cousin was so shy; she couldn't look at a man, much less talk to one. Elle didn't want to take the job, of course, but Grant pushed her.
Elle had worked at the office for quite some time before she finally began talking about her co-workers. Grant thought her cousin was making some progress. She nearly fell over when Elle began to talk about a man she had met, Tony Miles. She went on and on about how handsome he was, how talkative. She told Grant she was completely too shy to speak to him. What would a guy like that want with her? Grant pushed it, encouraged it. Go for it, cuz. From the sound of it, he's interested in you. Reel him in. Grant couldn't remember how long it had taken for the guy to ask her out and for Elle to accept the invitation. On the day of the 'big' question, Elle had nearly floated over to Grant's apartment and told her what happened. She wanted to impress this man, because a prettier face could easily sway a guy like him. She inherently knew that she wasn't exactly the type of girl he went for, but she didn't want to turn him off right away. Besides, he had to find something he liked about her. If not, why would he bother asking her out at all? Grant helped Elle pick out the perfect outfit and had even helped with her hair and make up. When Elle left to meet the dreamboat, Grant stayed up and waited for her to come home. Later, she'd dish with her cousin. She was happy that the girl had found a man. It wasn't an everyday thing. Hell, even she didn't have a man at the moment.
Of course as soon as Ellen came home, she was floating even more. She went on and on about her date, how Tony looked, the way he complimented her, the way he touched her hand, and the goodnight kiss at the door. She talked of the kiss most of all, how his full lips nearly consumed hers, and then she mentioned something that tweaked Grant the slightest bit. She wouldn't put two and two together for a while, but the words needled her somehow. While Ellen had been discussing Tony's kiss, she made mention of his lips [other than their fullness], and said his lower was fuller than his upper. She had no idea why that particular phrase bothered her, but she quickly pushed it out of her mind. It mattered very little. She simply listened and smiled while her cousin spouted her happiness. Girl's already half in love. Man oh man. I hope this works out. If it doesn't, she'll go nuts. Ellen floated off to bed that night with a gigantic smile on her face. It was a smile that would remain plastered there for many, many weeks to come, and Grant was there to take it all in stride. For a selfish, heartless bitch, Grant was actually happy for her cousin, genuinely happy.
After several weeks of dating this Tony fellow, Ellen came to Grant's apartment nearly floating on air yet again. At first, she assumed that the guy had asked her to marry him or something. However, he had done the next best thing. They'd slept together for the first time. Elle was no virgin, of course, but she had never had a man as gorgeous as Tony. Grant often asked to meet this Adonis, but Elle always said Tony was too shy to meet anyone in her family. She found it odd. A man who hits on a woman while he's stocking soda machines is too shy to meet Ellen's family? What's wrong with this picture? Again, she shrugged this thought off and allowed Ellen to be happy.
It abruptly changed, nearly all at once, when Ellen's boss was taken into custody for something stupid. It had happened so long ago that Grant couldn't remember exactly what it was anymore. Anyway, Ellen came to her cousin a shattered mess. Apparently, Tony had been seducing her for the state department to obtain access to her files. 'Tony' was an agent? She had sat up with Ellen for two days while the girl cried her eyes out of her head over this bastard. She swore right then that she'd get back at this fuck. She'd make his life hell any way she could. That night when Ellen calmed down, she left Grant's place, deciding to get drunk off her ass. She went immediately to a bar, found a man, and went home with him. She didn't quite remember what had transpired between them, but when she awoke the next morning, she was in a strange man's bed. Her first thought was to get the hell out of there, but her pain was still immense. Instead, she rose out of bed, found the guy's booze and drank herself drunk once again. After that, there was a string of men in and out of her bed. Six weeks later, she found herself alone and pregnant.
Of course, as soon as she received the diagnosis, she went to her cousin and cried on her shoulder. Knowing that the baby did not belong to Tony [he refused to touch her without a condom], she told Grant it did anyway. Who the hell would ever know anyway? She'd never see Tony again. However, she was wrong about that. She and Grant had attended some weird vice-presidential mixer thing at the state department. Despite Ellen's ties to her grubby boss, she had maintained her job, but was transferred to another division. Yet, she was still part of the fold. By that time, Ellen had just begun to show. She and Grant moved through the throngs of people when Ellen's sharp eyes identified a particularly familiar looking man standing off to himself, looking as if he'd rather have nails driven into his eyes than attend the party. He was somehow different. When she had known him, his hair was long, past his shoulders, and always worn tied back with a strip of rawhide. Occasionally, he wore a funky choker of some kind made out of bone or porcupine quills. He was always clean-shaven. Tony had passed himself off as half Italian, half Sioux Indian, but she had never bought that. Tonight, his hair was short, brutally so, and he had a face framing beard and mustache. He was decked out in a suit. There weren't many agents lingering about that looked like he. If he were in a uniform… Despite the noise, Grant had heard Ellen's gasp and then her words: That's the guy! Grant looked up in the direction that Ellen had pointed and she nearly choked on her drink. F. Chase Martel! She had the greatest urge to approach the son-of-a-bitch and bust his fucking balls. How dare the fuck use Ellen, knock her up, and then act as if nothing happened. Almost immediately, Grant wanted to approach Martel and demand that he do right by her cousin. However, Ellen wouldn't allow her to speak to the man. Let it go, Kira. It's over and I'm over him. It's okay; I'm not keeping the baby anyway. Grant honored Ellen's wishes, but she'd never lose her focus on Chase Martel. How dare he go on with life as if nothing happened while he had a bastard child lingering about somewhere? Ellen gave up the baby and it was the end of that, but Grant had never forgotten what the fuck did to her cousin. A fuck he always was to Ellen, to her, and to everybody. Ellen never mentioned Tony again, and wouldn't hear of getting back at him. In fact, Ellen had all but stopped communicating with Grant. She hadn't heard from Elle in a few years.
* * *
Donovan sat in his living room and stared at the phone. It had been quite a few hours since he last spoke to Larkin and he was a little worried about her. Should I call again or leave it alone? She had been so out of sorts when they were on the phone earlier, but she had also seemed annoyed when he kept asking and then asking again if she was okay. It was the distance, he knew this. If he could see her, lay his hands on her, he wouldn't worry so much. Fuck it. He picked up the phone and dialed her home number. He'd suffer whatever consequences she wished to dole out. Patiently, Donovan listened to three or four rings before the machine picked up. However, Larkin's voice came over the line, swearing, as she cut off the answering machine.
"Who is it," she whined, "I was sleeping so deeply."
Was she serious? Kidding? She had Caller ID and would immediately know it was him on the other end of the line. "Selena?"
"Oh," she said through a yawn, "hello again, Frank. Is something wrong?"
"No," he said, "I'm calling to see if you're okay. When we spoke earlier, you sounded as if you were fading fast."
She sighed, annoyed now. "Oh, Jesus, Frank. You're out of your mind. I told you. I have the flu, I need my rest, and I will be fine," she snapped. "How can I recover if you're on the damn phone annoying the crap out of me?" Donovan furrowed his brow in confusion. Where was the ire coming from? Before he could speak, her voice came back on the line. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I get a little bitchy when I'm ill."
"It's okay," he said, "I think we're both a little edgy."
"Oh God," she moaned, "Babe, I forgot."
For a moment, Donovan had no earthly idea what the hell she was talking about. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what it was she had forgotten. However, his eyes wondered to the dial of his watch for an unknown reason. He noted the date. October 26. It was a day he thought he'd never forget in his life, but somehow, he had shoved it back. At any other time, it might have hurt him deeply, might have made him feel guilty, but not now. He truly and thoroughly loved this woman on the other end of the line, was truly and thoroughly consumed by her. Taryn, I will never forget you, not as long as I live, but it doesn't hurt as much…and I feel as if it's okay to let go. "No, Selena, I'm not edgy because of that. I'm edgy because I miss you so much, but I've probably said that a dozen or more times already tonight. It's driving me fairly crazy if you want the honest truth. I don't mean to annoy you, I can't stop thinking about you."
She sighed a little, this time it was a touched sound. "Me either. God, a few more weeks. Seems so long."
"It does," he said, agreeing. "I'll hang up and let you rest. You sound as if you need it." He chuckled a little. "No more annoying calls from me."
"Frank, you don't annoy me, not typically," she said with a laugh. "You get your rest, too. You sound almost as bad as I do." She paused for a moment. "Uh, I need to go now, because I'm about to do something unladylike. Love you." Click.
Donovan hung up the phone, staring at it a moment after he did it. He stood and sauntered over to his kitchen. He dug out a bottle of wine and a glass. Perhaps a couple of glasses of wine would settle him and help him sleep. As it was going, he didn't think he'd fall asleep. He drank his first glass of wine fairly quickly and then poured another. The quicker he drank it, the faster it started working on him. He had the glass halfway drained when he heard a funny noise in the hallway. It was more of the thumping and thudding that he'd heard when the Devere siblings moved in a few doors down. At first, he ignored it. He had learned to ignore the weird Devere family in the last few weeks. Since Larkin hadn't been around, Devere's eyes had begun to wander his way again. Never in a million years, he thought. The noise came again, this time, louder. At that point, he heard the unmistakable sound of a cry. He wasn't as concerned as he was pissed off. It was time to make his neighbors aware that adults didn't party like fucking children.
When he ripped the door open, he was stunned at the scene before him. Someone had Devere out in the hallway roughing her up. His training taking over, Donovan went to the man on Devere and he grabbed the back of his coat. The perp turned around and swung out, but Donovan quickly blocked the hit. At that moment, Devere finally slipped into her apartment and ran for the phone. Donovan tried to subdue the man, but he broke away and ran down the hallway. Of course, he wasn't one to give up very easily, and Donovan gave chase. Once they made it out to the main lobby, the man was lost in the crowds coming in and going out. Snarling a little, Donovan turned and went back toward his floor. When he reached the hallway, he noticed that Devere had left her door wide open and her brother was conveniently missing. He listened to Devere's husky whispers to emergency personnel, and from the distance, he heard the sound of sirens wailing. Patiently, Donovan waited until she hung up before he spoke to her. She knew he was standing outside and she kept holding up her finger in the universal gesture of 'one minute, please.' He heard her say, 'my neighbor is with me now, thanks' before she hung up the phone.
When she stepped up to the doorway, he realized this was the closest he had ever been to her. "Are you okay," he asked.
She sighed. "I'm fine, thank you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't came out. He had his hands on…" At that point, she burst into tears.
Donovan had no desire to comfort her, but he couldn't leave her standing out here crying. He took the woman in his arms and she wrapped hers around his waist. She cried until the police arrived to take her statement. He wanted to slip away, but she mentioned to one of the cops that Donovan had tried to wrestle the bad guy. It took approximately an hour and a half to get the statements taken. When the police officers cleared away, Donovan lingered with Devere.
"I'll be on my way now," Donovan said. "I think you'll be safe. Where's your brother?"
Devere shrugged. "Not sure, he's probably on a date or something. I'll be fine. Thank you again, Frank."
He nodded her way and excused himself. She stood back and watched him as he walked to his apartment. The veneer is breaking. I'll be inside your place before you know it. Watch out, I'm coming in.
The next morning, Donovan entered the coffee shop. Normally, he felt highly uncomfortable under Devere's bizarre gaze, but since her ordeal last night, he had made a grudging truce with her. Of course, this truce was unspoken, but he would at least try to be civil to her. Before he reached the counter, his double espresso was awaiting him…on the house, of course.
* * *
Although she still felt like shit, Larkin went in to work the next morning anyway. Today, as other days, Greene was stationed at the receptionist's desk. She hadn't spoken very often to the woman, because she gave her the creeps. Ignoring her for the moment, Larkin unlocked her office door and entered. She had tons of shit to get organized. There were only a few more weeks left before she made the big move [thank God]. She rolled her yes [good going, Jane] when she realized that she had forgotten to grab a couple of crates from the supply room. As much stuff as she had accumulated, she might need twenty or thirty of them. She took two steps outside her office door and felt a little on the dizzy side. Larkin stood still for a few seconds, recouping, and then took another step. The room began to spin around her and little dots swam before her eyes. She was certain she was going to conk right out on the damn floor. However, before she could sink down, a strong hand took hold of her arm and steadied her. As the wave of dizziness subsided, she focused her eyes on the face of Pellie Greene.
"You almost fell out on the floor," Greene commented lightly. "You're very pale, Ms. Larkin. If you were still sick, maybe you should have stayed home."
Larkin wanted to shrug away from the Greene woman's talons, but she was afraid she'd kiss the carpet if she did that. "I was fine until just now and then it hit me again out of nowhere." She took her arm out of Greene's hand. "I think it's over now. Thanks." She continued to make progression toward the supply closet and another wave of dizziness struck her. She held onto the doorframe. Jesus. Whatever this is has to go away. Although she'd rather die than ask for help, she called behind her, "Ms. Greene, could you help me please?"
Ooops, too late, Larkin thought as she sunk to the floor.
____________________
To be continued…