Chapter 13- Despair

Thomas sat at the oak desk in the hotel room, with his head between his arms. It was nearly one o'clock and Rose had still not returned to him. He couldn't remember doing anything to offend her, so why had she left so suddenly? Thomas rose, with the intention of going out and searching until he found her. This time he left a note:

Darling, I'm just going out to look for you. If you return home before I do, don't worry, I will be home soon. Thomas.

Thomas reached out to the coat rack and pulled out his woollen coat. It was the one he had been wearing on Titanic, that he had given to Rose. Surely it would mean good luck.

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It hadn't been hard for Cal to get into the room Thomas and Rose were staying in. He had flashed a wad of money at the man at the front desk. Amazing what money could do. And the man had even given Cal a key.

Now as he stood in the room, looking at Thomas's clothes, rage overtook him. Rose was his fiancée, damn it! It boiled to a head when he saw he note Thomas had left. That old counterfeit had lost his future wife in the streets of New York City? That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all.

"Ripley?"

"Yes sir?"

"Bring around the car,"

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Rose still sat in the same dim street corner hours later. Her dress had been ripped, and her ears were bleeding from when her diamond earrings had been ripped from her lobes by the thugs. Where was Thomas when she had needed him the most? Hadn't she been there for him on the Titanic, stopping him from falling apart? She had thought that had meant something. Obviously it hadn't. Maybe she had been wrong about the whole Thomas affair, a little too hasty in bestowing all her affections onto him.

A car pulled up, and Rose snapped her head up, afraid.

"Darling!" Cal jumped out before the car had even fully stopped. "Darling, I've been looking everywhere for you!" He jumped back, aghast. "But you're hurt!"

Rose looked up at Cal numbly. Cal was safe. It was safe with Cal. Come to think about it, hadn't Cal always made sure she was safe?

Cal grunted as he lifted her into the car. "Don't worry, darling. You're safe now. Everything is going to be just fine. Ripley! Drive to the nearest surgeon. And hurry, man, will you!"

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Thomas had walked the streets of New York City for over three hours looking for Rose. In the end he resorted to asking strangers if they had seen Rose. Finally he stumbled into a drunken man in a dark alley that said he had seen a well-dressed red head in these parts not too long ago, with two men. Thomas shuddered, and followed the man's directions to the corned he had described. Rose was not there, but as he went to leave, he saw a piece of her dress snagged on the curb, a blue satin one, he assumed she had been wearing. He felt sick with worry and guilt. This girl had been in his care, and she was gone! It was an all too familiar feeling of failure for Thomas to bear. It started raining, but Thomas barely felt it. He wandered aimlessly with no sense of purpose, numb with shock. Tears streamed down on his face unchecked. He had failed again.

*************************************************************** Rose woke up from a deep sleep, and saw Cal sitting on the bed next to her. "Cal? I thought-"

"Ssh, it's okay now. You have a mild concussion. And you twisted your ankle. Do you remember what happened, darling?"

"These men-they came and-they-"she started crying. "They told me not to scream and-"

"Don't worry. You're safe now. I am so glad I found you Rose! I looked on the Carpathia, but-I couldn't find you. I was so glad I bumped into you! Did he stop you from looking for me?" A lie of course. It was no accident that Cal had located Rose. He felt bad about what had happened to her, but no matter. She was his again now.

"How long have I slept for?" Rose shook her head, but she couldn't remember much.

"Only a few hours. Now you must get some more rest, Rose," He kissed her and left, and almost instantly Rose fell back into a trance-like slumber where she didn't have to think.

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The cab driver shook his head as he surveyed the scene on the street in front of him. Damn fool of a man had wandered straight in front of his cart. One of the horses had broken its cannon bone in its hind leg, and the terrier man was on the way with his gun to destroy it. The other horse of the pair, the chestnut had escaped with only minor abrasions. A crowd had gathered around the man, lying on the cobblestones, and the horse, groaning in pain, while it's companion whinnied shrilly.

And still the rain fell upon the scene of despair, the horse, trying to stand with it's broken leg, and the mysterious, well-dressed man lying motionless beside it.