Chapter 3
She continued to think about it as she showered and got into bed that night. Her apartment seemed cramped and crowded after the airy spaciousness of the mansion, and she caught herself thinking about what it would be like to live there. It would be closer to the hospital; and as soon as her divorce went through she would be able to go to part time ER surgeon. That would leave her with more time to devote to the X-Men, and she was certain she could learn to fight as they did. And all night a figure in yellow and black with a low, gravelly voice kept intruding on her dreams. She woke with the covers tangled around her legs.
That day at the hospital wasn't as hectic as the day before had been, and she went home that evening thinking about calling one of the off duty nurses at the hospital and asking her if she wanted to go hang out. The moment she stepped in, though, she saw Wolverine stretched out on her couch, apparently asleep. She giggled quietly to herself and carried her groceries into the kitchen, suddenly glad she'd splurged on a couple of good steaks. At least she'd have something decent to offer him. She hummed as she marinated them in an Italian herb marinade and opened a pack of frozen vegetables to steam.
Wolverine wasn't asleep, of course. He'd pretended to so he could see what her reaction would be. She hadn't exploded at him. That was a good sign. He heard her humming quietly in the kitchen, and he figured he wasn't going to be kicked out. And he smelled steak, which made his mouth water. That was an even better sign. Then she disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard water running as she took a quick shower. She came out smelling of lavender soap and strawberry shampoo, wrapped in a shapeless, comfortable bathrobe, and chose a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from a drawer, disappearing with them in the bathroom. Seconds later, she came out, fully dressed, just in time to take the vegetables from the stovetop. She plugged in a tiny electric grill on her countertop and put the steaks on. Then she came over to the couch and scooped her mail from the table, looking through it. He opened one eye as she cursed suddenly. Her mood changed faster than he could sit up. He watched as she ripped open an envelope, scanned the letter in it, and turned to him. "Can you stay here and finish cooking?" she asked. "I have to run downtown to my lawyer's office."
"Sure, darlin'," he said. "Anythin' wrong?"
She didn't answer, but grabbed her purse. Moments later he heard her car start up and roar off.
Hours went by. The steaks were done, the table was set, and still she didn't appear. Wolverine had just about given up when he heard her car pull up. When he didn't hear her coming up, he went out to see what was wrong.
Sara's forehead was leaning on the steering wheel, and she was crying as hard as anyone he'd ever seen. He opened the passenger door and slid into her car, wrapping his arms around her in an attempt to calm her. "Sshh," he whispered, patting her back. She radiated distress, and he wondered what had happened. "Darlin' what happened?" he asked gently.
"I just found out my husband was paying my lawyer not to put my divorce through. I paid all the court fees. I gave him everything he asked me for, all the money he wanted. And he wasn't doing a damn thing!" she wailed. "I just went to him to tell him I wanted my money back. He refused! Told me to bug off, and told me to go back and forget all of this because I'm never going to find a lawyer in this town to handle my divorce." She looked empty, drained. "I can't do this anymore. I've been pulling extra shifts at the hospital to make a little extra just to keep this apartment. There hasn't been a lot left to pay for groceries or car repair. I'm going to have to give up." She opened the door and climbed the stairs up to the apartment, where she began to toss clothes into a battered suitcase.
Wolverine stood there, at a loss for what to do. Her despair made him feel like there was a hole somewhere under his heart. He cared about her; he was surprised to admit that after only three days of knowing her, but it was true. And he had seen for himself that her husband was an abusive idiot. He didn't deserve her, and she didn't deserve to be treated like this. "Sara," he said slowly as an idea began to form. "Don't do anythin' yet, okay? I'll be back tonight, I promise." He left, jumping on his motorcycle, and sped off back to the mansion.
Xavier was sitting up in bed reading when there came a knock on his door. He was surprised when the door opened and he saw Wolverine standing there, uncomfortable with being there yet plainly desperate. "Uh, Professor, can I talk to ya real quick?"
Charles looked at his bedside clock quickly. Almost midnight. "Logan…" he said, "can this wait? It's rather late."
Wolverine shifted his weight uneasily, and Xavier became alarmed. Wolverine wouldn't be this uneasy if it weren't important. "What is it?" he said.
"It's Sara," Logan burst out. "Chuck, remember I told ya her husband abused her and she was in the middle o' a divorce? Well, she found out today her lawyer ain't even filed the papers, and her bastard husband's been payin' her lawyer not to file. He just refused ta give Sara her money back. She's desperate, she's talkin' about goin' back to him, an' yet if she does he's just gonna hurt her again. She's packin' her stuff right now; I told her not ta do anythin' cause I wanted to talk ta ya."
Xavier made a quick decision. "Tell her to come here tomorrow. I'll talk to a couple lawyers I trust and get them to meet her here to sign the papers."
Wolverine smiled, and Xavier knew he'd made the right decision. "I'll tell her. Thanks, Charles," he said, dropping his trademark irreverence for a moment to thank his mentor. Then he was gone, hurrying off to tell Sara the news, and Xavier was left wondering how things between the two had progressed to such a point so quickly.
The door was locked when Wolverine got there, and her car wasn't in the parking lot. He picked the lock quickly, familiar with the procedure, and found a note, hastily scribbled, and left on the battered kitchen table.
Logan:
I'm sorry. I know what you're going to do. You're going to go and ask Professor
Xavier to find a lawyer to handle the divorce. As much as I'd like to be rid of the sleazebag
I married two years ago, I just have to face it, it's not going to happen. Richard is just too
powerful, and I can't fight him anymore. I've been trying for three years to get him out
of my life, and I just have to accept that it's not going to happen. I'm sorry, dearling. I'll
stop by the mansion sometime in the next couple of days to talk.
I love you,
Sara.
Wolverine tore through the apartment, trying to find something with her cell number on it, or Richard's address, but found nothing. Anguished, he ran back out, jumped on his bike, and rode home as fast as he could.
Over the next few days he tried desperately to reach her. He waited at the hospital for her to come; her coworkers hadn't seen her. He called the number on the card she'd given Jean; the first few days there was no answer, and the third day a message said the number had been disconnected. He tried to track down her husband, but the secretary kept putting him off.
Xavier was very disappointed when Wolverine came back without Sara, but not overly concerned. As the days went by and Wolverine became more and more frantic, he started to get worried. Two weeks went by without hearing from Sara. All the X-Men were worried now, and they kept an eye out for her. So Jean and Betsy were electrified one afternoon when they saw her with Senator Richard Ryan in the local mall, buying a fancy cocktail dress. Jean rushed over. "Sara! Where have you been? We haven't heard from you in ages!"
Sara turned to look at them and Jean was alarmed. Sara had gotten so pale, her violet eyes were huge in her thin face, and there was a haunted air about her. Her eyes were full of fear as Ryan interposed himself between her and them. "Now, Sara, dear," he said, his grip tightening on her thin wrist so hard Jean swore she heard the bones crack, "You're tired from all the shopping. Say goodbye to your friends, we're going home. She's been sick," he said to the two women smoothly. "We'll be going now." Sara took one last desperate look behind her, and he noticed. He gave her such a hard shove she stumbled, and was only saved from falling by the death grip he had on her arm. She stumbled out to the parking lot and Jean and Betsy watched as he practically shoved her into a black Lincoln with tinted windows. The car peeled out of the parking lot so fast it almost swiped another car coming in.
Xavier looked troubled when they told him about the incident. Wolverine paced furiously around the office, muttering to himself and sliding his claws in and out. "Wolverine," Xavier finally said, "stop doing that, I can't think!" He turned to the two women. "She was buying an evening dress?" he asked. "That would be the Governor's Ball tomorrow night, then. I had considered not going, but I think that might be the best time to face him and ask him what he has been doing to Sara. The invitation said I could bring an escort, so Jean, if you would accompany me, I would appreciate it. Please ask Scott if he would consider driving and Wolverine, if you would remain in the car, I could call on you should something happen."
Wolverine agreed. Normally he hated being dragged out to these functions, but as long as he was going to be in the car, it would be all right. And he would do anything just to see Sara again. Jean's description of her current condition was driving him insane.
Scott agreed to act as chauffeur and bodyguard, so at six the next afternoon the limo carrying Xavier, Jean, and Wolverine pulled up in front of the governor's mansion with Scott at the wheel. Jean alighted, Scott got the regular wheelchair out of the back, and together they got Xavier out of the back and into it. He drove off to park and Jean and Charles went inside.
They spotted Senator Ryan immediately. His tall six foot five frame was easily distinguishable among the other dignitaries, and at his side, close by, was their friend. She looked beautiful, but too thin for health, as Jean's practiced eye pierced the layers of cloth on the dress she wore to the body underneath. And she moved stiffly, as though she was in pain and trying to hide it. Her smile was artificial, and didn't touch her eyes, and her body language spoke eloquently of the fear she had for the man beside her. In contrast, the Senator was relaxed, gracious, and ebullient, laughing a great deal and gesturing expansively. Jean itched to go over there and talk to Sarah, but pleasantries had to be exchanged, introductions made, and time spent in small talk. Xavier restrained himself and worked his way over to the Senator and his wife in due time.
"Senator, hello," he said graciously, taking the man's hand. It lay for a moment, like a limp fish, before the Senator dropped it. "And this is your wife, I take it? It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Ryan." He held out a hand, and she took it. He probed her as he shook her hand. Fear. Pain. A feeling of being trapped. A desperate longing to know how Wolverine was doing. And despair. Xavier felt her hopelessness, and he smiled warmly as he gripped her hand in a firm squeeze.
Jean murmured the expected pleasantries to the Senator as she stood there longing to rip him apart. She could feel Sara's despair even through her shields. He picked up on something in her manner, though, and leaned in closer, looking at her. "You're the one who stopped us in the store day before yesterday," he breathed. He spun away from Jean and took Sara's arm in a grip that bruised her skin. "If you will excuse us," he said to the various dignitaries around him. "Sara, come with me." Puzzled looks followed the couple as he spoke a quick word to the governor, who nodded and indicated a door just off the main ballroom. Senator Ryan started off toward the door, dragging Sara with him. The door closed, and the others turned back to their business. Xavier and Jean continued to make the rounds, but with one eye on that door. Jean was shielded, so she didn't feel what was happening until a scream of pain and terror turned all heads in the ballroom to that door. Jean was in motion almost immediately, pushing Xavier's wheelchair over to the door. The other guests crowded in and gasped in shock.
Sara lay on the floor in a heap, sobbing. Her dress was torn, and they saw the rope burns on her thin throat that the high-necked dress was hiding. The torn skirt exposed a length of pale thigh, her stockings were ripped and showing a number of painful red welts on the skin. There were rope burns on her thin wrists and ankles, bruises on her back, throat, and arms, and her hair, thrown back from her forehead, now showed a bloody laceration from the heavy rings her husband wore on the hand he had backhanded her with. Senator Ryan was so far gone in his rage that he struck her several more times as she sobbed and begged him to stop before he became aware that he had an audience. Governor Fletcher stalked into the room and grabbed his fist before it could strike her again. "Richard!" he thundered. Jean responded to Xavier's telepathic command and slipped past the other guests, going to Sara and wrapping her dinner jacket around her. Meanwhile Fletcher continued to speak.
"I heard rumors, but I didn't believe them," he snapped at the Senator. Ryan's face had gone pasty white. He knew his career was over now. The press that attended such events was snapping pictures of the woman lying on the floor bleeding and bruised from his fists. It would be all over the headlines the next day.
"Jim," he laughed shakily, "look, you know me. I just lost my temper, see? There's no harm done." He held a hand down to Sara, which she shrank away from.
"No harm done!" Fletcher thundered. "My God, man, I'll see to it that you go to prison for this! Look at your wife! What have you done to her? You sadistic bastard, you'll never complete your term! I'll see to that!" He pushed Ryan's hand away from him, wiping his hand on his leg as if to wipe away clinging filth, and turned away.
Ryan did what none of them expected him to do. He went berserk.
Jean wasn't prepared when Ryan snatched Sara away from her. His eyes were crazed as he shrieked, "You bitch! You've ruined me!" From out of nowhere came the flash of a knife, and a gasp of surprise and pain as Sara collapsed. Blood began to pool under her.
"Sara!" Jean screamed, catching the other woman as she fell. Fletcher whirled and grabbed Ryan firmly, wrenching the knife from him, and bellowed, "Police!" Several officers were present, and two officers came forward, cuffing and leading the Senator away. Scott appeared at Jean's side, lifting Sara in his arms. Fletcher came forward. "The ambulance is on its way," he said.
"There's no time," Xavier said tersely. "Jim, do you trust me?"
"Yes." The man said with no hesitation.
"Good. Then I'll call you when we get her help and let you know how she is. If she goes to a hospital the press will have a field day with her. I'm going to take her somewhere private."
Jim Fletcher nodded. "All right, Charles. Go."
