New York Romance
Disclaimer: I don't own Secret Window.
Summary: (more) Mort's publishing company is fed up. He won't write. So now he's stuck doing office work. But he cannot cooperate there either. Since the death of Amy, Mort's eyes have been transfixed on his mysterious co-workers. The very tragic, yet humorous story of how John Shooter won't let Mort have his way with anything. His college girlfriend is now his co-worker and his young co-worker now wants to be his housekeeper. Mort will have to go to drastic measures to get Shooter out of his life completely.
AN: uhh WARNING. This is a sad chapter :(
Chapter Five: Rain Brings Heartache...
"Oh...! Sorry, I'll just- I was just gonna...It can wait..."
Mort looked at Lucy quickly before hurrying after Scarlet who had turned and walked back out the door. "Scarlet, I can explain..."
"No! No, that's perfectly alright..." she said, getting into her car.
"Please, Scarlet, was it something important?"
She sat in the car, looking up at Mort through the open window, wondering and not discovering if this was the right time or not to tell him. "Well alright...I just thought I should tell you...I tried calling but your phone was disconnected...Well Carrie won't be coming back to work for a couple weeks. Her daughter is supposedly...missing..."
Lucy, who was right at Mort's heels, was stunned. "Missing...?" she mouthed to herself, not paying attention to Mort and Scarlet's conversation anymore. How could she think she was missing? It had only been a couple of days. She'd gone much longer before without seeing her mother.
Scarlet's car finally pulled out and drove away from Mort's house. Lucy looked at him. "Are you going to send me back?"
He sighed. "I don't know...You want to stay?"
She nodded quickly. She wanted to stay. And she'd admitted it to herself overnight: She wanted to love Mort. Lucy only wished he wanted to love her back...
"Alright..." he said uncertainly. "You can stay as long as you need, darling..."
That might as well be forever... Lucy thought, sighing to herself. She hugged Mort like he was her husband. Like they were a normal couple on the street. Yes normal indeed...Lucy suddenly felt like she had fallen asleep in his arms. His scent was her poison...She imagined the two of them years from now. He was still double her age, as it would always be; she had previously convinced herself it wasn't going to bother her though. They were getting married. It was going to be a big wedding...With white and flowers and tuxes...
There they stood in the rainy air, the mist of the lake added to the watery scene.
Mort held the little girl in his arms. He knew he couldn't violate her now. All he could do was house her and take care of her. His only wish was that Mr. John Shooter stayed wherever he is hiding right now. He didn't need him at all. He'd helped with things before, but Mort could take care of this one on his own.
"Lucy...let's go inside. You're gonna get sick out here in the cold," he whispered to her.
"No, I...I wanna stay out here. With you."
Mort looked in her big eyes and smiled. "Okay..." She looked back in his brown eyes and kissed him.
We both fell asleep on the couch that night. Cuddled together, using eachother for warmth. We'd fallen asleep before we could grab a blanket. I woke up at around 2 in the morning. God, it was still raining. Mort was fast asleep. His mouth just barely open and his head half falling off the couch. He was on the outer part of the couch so I figured it would be impossible to get up without waking him. So I rested my head on his chest and watched him sleep.
I suddenly shifted positions and Mort stirred. Seconds later his eyes opened and tried to adjust to the unexpected darkness. "What time is it...?" he said groggily, looking at his watch.
"About 2:10," I answered for him. He looked at me and smiled. "Lucy...how long do you plan on staying here?"
"Oh..." I said, saddened. "You don't want me here anymore..."
"No, no, I just don't want your mom to get too worried and call the cops or something. I've gotten in enough trouble with the cops."
"How?"
He shook his head, shaking random pieces of hair out of his face. "Cops think I killed my wife," he replied plainly, obviously just wanting to get it out. He smiled, obviously not expecting such a calm reaction from me. Strangely, very strangely...I expected him to say something as outrageous as this. I don't even know why...
"Did you?"
Mort looked uncomfortable. Oh God, he did... I thought as I could feel my face fall. I watched him nervously. I didn't want to be scared of him...I wanted to love him. Gosh I am so in love with him! How can I handle being scared of loving him?
He looked up at my face which was deep in thought. "Lucy, I didn't kill her. It wasn't me."
I looked in his eyes and he stared back, some kind of sencerity in them. "I believe you, baby...Who was it then?"
Mort just sighed. "Another day, Lucy...Another day..."
Mort woke up only hours later. The sun hadn't risen yet; it was still dark and raining again. He woke up in a cold sweat and his hands slightly shaking. His head was like a bowling ball he couldn't balance on his shoulders. Lucy was nowhere in his blurred sight. What the hell, was he drugged?
No, just simply falling in love. something in the back of his mind told himself. Wait...what was that? Was that Shooter?
Mort was definately confused now. Where had Lucy gone off to? He searched the house, but she was nowhere to be found. He sighed, thinking she wasn't coming back..."
You're probably right, Mr. Rainey. That was all you'll get from that pretty little thing.
The accent sent chills of hate up Mort's spine and he glared at the floor he'd been staring at. "What...do you want...now..." Mort could barely say through gritted teeth. "You've been gone for too long to come back!"
Now what kind of logic is that?
"Go...away...There's no need for you here."
Riiiiiing. Riiiiing.
Mort looked at his ugly phone. Maybe it was Lucy...He went over to it and picked up.
"Mort?" He could hear Carrie's faint voice on the other end. It was especially faint...
"What's up, Carrie?"
"Uhm...what are you doing?"
"Nothing..." he said, confused.
"Could you possibly come into the city in about an hour...And meet me on the corner of 5th and 8th?"
Mort paused. What could possibly be going on? "Uhh alright...I guess you'll explain when I get there?"
"Yes."
"...Alright." He hung up. What the heck?
All kind of terrible things rushed through Mort's mind as he drove to the busy intersection of New York City, most of which contained Lucy. He prayed she was alright. Somewhere, he hoped she was alright. But nothing could have prepared him for this. This was the last thing he could have suspected.
Scarlet's dead.
Mort looked in Carrie's eyes brimmed with tears. Mort barely knew Scarlet. He had wanted to know her. He wanted to trust her and be friends. Carrie and Scarlet had been friends though and Mort couldn't imagine what kind of horrifying mess Carrie was going through. With Scarlet gone and Lucy missing.
His thoughts were back to Lucy. Even with this. He had to stop! Scarlet's dead...
It didn't seem to register.Mort and Carrie stood on the corner of that intersection, just looking at eachother. It was the only way either of them could keep from breaking down. Carrie especially. She told him the funeral was on Wednesday morning. Guilty and sad, Mort didn't exactly want to go. But he had to. Scarlet had began to mean a lot to him.
After the quick state of shock began to wear off, Mort realized he didn't know how Scarlet had passed at all. Carrie said all she knew was that her friend had walked in the room where she thought Scarlet was sleeping. Next thing she knew, the ambulance was there unnecessarily.
Mort felt sick now that he knew there was no other information. He was definately not going to work today...He drove home.
The funeral was long and cold. Long and cold. It was raining. So a black canopy was hovered above the ceremony. Carrie contained herself well, but Mort could tell by standing next to her that she would have a lot of mourning to go through before he would see her smile again. In fact...Mort hadn't seen her smile much even before Scarlet's death.
She was young. As the words were recited, Mort could barely pay any attention. All he could think about was the day they had met in the coffee shop. The smallest smile played on his lips as he remembered being quite attracted to her. It faded though. He remembered seeing Carrie for the first time in so many long, long years. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye. Her eyes were starting to fill with expected tears as the funeral went on. After hearing Carrie had divorced, he had wondered if the two of them would get back together. When they had hugged in her little cubicle that day they met again, there was no doubt in his mind at the time. But...then he met her daughter.
You may be wanting to pay attention, Mr. Rainey. They may be reciting these words toward you pretty soon I could say.
Mort looked up from his feet and paused. "Why do you say that..." he uttered in a voice so faint Carrie couldn't even hear him. But she was mute to her surroundings anyway. No one could blame her.
Because hiding Ms. Carrie's little daughter up in your room all day might not be the most smart thing to be doin' right now.
"I don't care what you think." Same volume.
Now I'm just letting you know...Everything you're doin' is wrong...
"Yes, you've told me that before, Mr. Shooter. Do you need new material?" His voice had altered. Carrie looked up at him curiously. He coughed and avoided eye contact with her.
Just face it, you're a criminal, Mr. Rainey. And I did it once, I'll do it again-
"YOU BASTARD!" Although all heads turned toward him, his face did not redden, only madden. He was taking control again...Mort was lifeless, letting his psycho other half take charge. Falling backward a few feet, he managed to pull a gun out of the pocket of his jacket, and take it to his head.
AN: Gosh if you read my other stories, you might realize something like this happens in like...all of them. Well review darlings :) Thanks for reading/reviewing!
