Chapter Seven: A Cruel Game
There was a flicker of fear that he felt, but only at first as it died away quickly. It was, however, replaced by anticipation, as he stood there, mouth agape, staring at the very same man that had helped in mugging him. Surely there was some kind of mistake, he tried to reason. After all, why would the same man accused of pounding a cop wander straight into their very hold?
The man was watching him with a bit of a smirk, his eyebrows raised. "I see you're still among the living," he joked with an added grin. "Guess we didn't get you too bad."
There was no mistake, it was the same man. Greg swallowed as he came up with a blatant response. "What are you doing here?"
It was a slightly sickening feeling, knowing that the very man that had hurt you and plagued your dreams with threats had very easily been accepted as a respected member by your friends. Greg wanted little more than to tear the visitor's pass away, kick the man out the building. At the same time a plan formed in his head, he was easy prey, outnumbered even. But would everyone believe him if he now told the truth? After a week of lying through his teeth, pretending he didn't know, would they even listen? Or conclude that he was just insane?
"I'm here to see my girl."
The response confused Greg, who once continued to stare at him with an open mouth. If the man didn't think he was crazy before, he would now. Greg processed the words over in his head, an icy grip forming around his quickening heart. Surely he didn't mean…
"You stay away from her," he hissed, doing well to keep his voice low.
"How else are we supposed to keep tabs on you?"
Greg felt like an idiot, cursing himself mentally for not figuring it out sooner. The same man Sara hadn't really cared for after the first night continuing to hang around, shortly after the taunting threats Greg had received. They had her address, her phone number; of course they would make contact, instead of just trusting a stranger's word.
"I'll tell them," Greg warned, hoping that it would work. He wondered if he could muster up the courage to even try, but it was a second later that all his hopes were dashed.
"Go ahead," the other man nodded, urging him to do so, maybe a little too much. "If you feel confident enough that your cop friends can catch all of us in time."
He seemed pleased at the way Greg fell silent, satisfied with himself. He didn't stop there though, continuing on where he left off. The man was enjoying himself. "She's a very nice gal, caring, generous, a real nice kisser too."
Greg felt his stomach churn as he shook his head. "What?" The prospect of Sara kissing him was far too much. She wouldn't actually try something like that…would she? After all, they had known each other for years, why would she go off and kiss a man she had only known for a few short days?
With the grin the man wore on his face Greg wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, and he quickly shook the disgust off. "You leave her out of this. She hasn't done anything."
"True," the man nodded, "She's just a pawn, but a lovely one at that. It'd be a shame if something happened to her."
Greg took another step despite the growing fear and repulsion he was feeling towards him. "I haven't told anyone, if you want it to stay that way I suggest you leave, and soon."
"You're in no position to offer up a bargain," the man reminded him, not backing down from the fierce gaze. "You were easy enough to take up in the alley, it can happen again."
"The only difference is that you're outnumbered," Greg warned.
"Now, but where are the others? When will they show up at your place, at Sara's? We have the element of surprise, are your cop friends going to watch the two of you all the time, wherever you go? Who knows, we may get you while you're a work, or sleeping during the day. Do you really want to take that chance?"
For the first time Greg was being able to see the real dilemma unfold. It was annoyingly unfair, and terribly sickening at the same time. There was no real way he could win. If he remained quiet he would have to rely on the word of thieves and potential murders. If he asked for help, he would have to suffer the consequences. Without having the upper-hand Greg didn't trust taking any chances. He would have to play by their game, until he found out what the rules were.
Any further conversation was interrupted as the doors swung open. Seeing Sara come in a mixture of hope and fear flickered across his face before it was quickly replaced by a hard mask of determination. The man stood across from, trying to provoke him into saying something.
"I see you've met Rick," Sara replied surprisingly. Apparently she had intention of introducing the pair; Greg mulled deeply over the small fact, biting his bottom lip as his eyes narrowed, watching as the pair exchanged a warm hug.
He was touching her, holding her close with a wry grin flashed in his direction. Rick was playing, adding more emphasis on everything just for show, to get under his skin. Greg got the uneasy feeling that the man was trying to get him to speak up. Rick was testing him, but why Greg didn't know.
"We've met," Greg replied bitterly, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the still healing bruise. It was just a faint outline now, but it hurt more than it should. And staring at the man only added insult to injury.
"He's been so sweet, a real gentleman," Sara told Greg with a little bit of a laugh, still holding onto on of his hands.
If Greg had been cold-blooded then he certainly would have died there on the spot as his blood began to boil. He was somewhat surprised that he was able to retain a passive expression, let alone his urging to smash the guy in the face. "I suppose he is," he replied tensely.
"She talks about you a lot," Rick added, wrapping an arm around her frame to pull her closer to his torso. The action only added fuel to fire. "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking her out."
Did he really expect an answer? Greg continued to chew on his bottom lip as he glanced from him to Sara. A grin was plaster across his face as he turned towards the woman in his arms, planting a deliberate kiss right in front of his eyes.
Greg couldn't take it any longer, couldn't stand seeing what he was doing, and enjoying the fact that he was dong it. If Greg could have had his way he would beaten the man to bloody pulp, despite the fact he didn't indulge in violence. Instead he did the only reasonable thing. He left the room.
Greg wasn't sure what had prompted that action, other than fear. At the current moment his anger was overriding his thoughts, but he knew in the end that any course of action in that manner would only place Sara further in danger. No one would believe him at that rate if he took a swing at him. Ecklie would have him suspended, fired perhaps, and Sara…she would be angry with him for hurting an 'innocent man'. He was quickly becoming to regret his actions earlier.
"Greg?"
He turned at the sound of her voice, surprised she had followed. Then again why wouldn't she? She was still a friend, and if she knew what was happening she would understand then. They were using her, as a sick cruel joke and he couldn't do anything to stop it.
"Are you okay?"
Was he okay? Greg shook his glumly, standing just inside the locker room. He could see Rick standing just down the hall, watching him intently. The ex-lab tech wondered if the villain could read lips, wondered if it was worth a try. A steady glare told him that it wasn't the best of ideas.
"I'm fine."
Sara touched his arm gingerly, as if afraid to hurt him. Greg didn't pull away, but didn't take comfort in her concern either. "I know," she told him quietly.
"It's different, but he really is a nice guy. You'd like him if you gave him a chance."
Greg shook his head bitterly, "Somehow I don't think I will."
He was taken by surprise when she reached up, planting a small kiss on his cheek. "I think it's cute that you're jealous," she whispered in his ear.
Greg hadn't met her eyes, watching Rick as he lingered in the hall. The other man was watching intently for any signs. Greg supposed he could let something slip out easily, but when he met her level gaze he knew that he couldn't. Not until he figured things out.
"I'll check on you later, okay?" Sara told him earnestly, studying his face.
"Whatever," Greg's reply was bitter as she left, his heart aching as he watched her go. He felt so helpless it was unfair; it was a game he could not win. The frustration was swarming as he turned away, slamming a closed fist against the locker in front of him. A wave of pain sailed through his battered knuckles, up the length of his arm as he sank down on the bench, cringing.
As the broken skin began to bleed Greg found himself weeping bitterly, not over pain that was attacking his crushed hand, but over a different type of pain, one that he could not heal by himself.
TBC
