Well, if muchtvs can update not once, not twice, but three times in like, um, a week, I guess that means I better put my knives away, stop driving the kids all over the freaking place, doing the mountain of laundry that has mysteriously pile up and all the other crap that constitutes real life and start writing again.
Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and sorry it took so long for me to get onto my ass and post this.
Unless Josh and Warner decide to bestow upon me the gift of OC ownership, well you know they'll only be mine in my over-active fantasy life.
Chapter Two.
Sandy left the pool house and checked around outside. Ryan's bike was still in the garage.
That left the last option.
The logical one.
Late night with Monty Python's Flying Circus… The DVD collection. Ryan was probably crashed out in the family room, sleeping on the couch. Sandy and Kirsten had purposely not put televisions in either boy's room, preferring that the family room be used as a family room.
Or spare bedroom when a teen-aged boy had trouble falling asleep.
He cut through the now vacant kitchen, stopping only to pour one more mug of coffee and grab a bagel… "Breakfast of Champions" in the Cohen household.
Shit.
Another empty room.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ryan handed Trey a coffee, a doughnut store bagel before sitting down in the sand and taking the lid off his own cup. The warmth from his coffee thawed his cold fingers.
"You gonna tell me what's going on 'cause it's a little soon for parole…" He asked, staring out at the waves.
"Ya think? I'm not due for a hearing for another year… Let's just put this down to dumb fucking Atwood luck…"
They sat in silence. Trey reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, he wordlessly handed the package and lighter to Ryan. Inhaling deeply, the younger brother held the smoke in lungs before releasing it. Except for the occasional jogger, the cool weather kept the beach deserted. Trey tossed the filtered end of his cigarette away from him while Ryan buried his deep in the sand.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After some debate/argument, it was agreed that Seth would go to school and Kirsten would go to the office. Seth wasn't fooled however. His parents were worried about Ryan. Phone calls to Lindsay and Marissa came up empty and Seth was banished to the hallowed halls of Harbour. Like hell. He'd do a quick recon to see if anyone had heard from Ryan and then bail. He would have to be stealth though. The last thing he wanted was to catch some shrapnel from the fallout produced by the parental rant when Ryan decided to show his face.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
10 AM
Sandy searched through Ryan's desk, looking for answers. If he'd disappeared a year and a half ago that would have made more sense. The Cohens plus One spent the first few months walking on eggshells, trying to find a way to co-exist with a saddened, emotionally scarred, angry young man.
A boy really.
One that had lived through and seen things that no kid should ever have to.
Things that Sandy knew haunted the lives of other clients, other kids, forcing them to give up on hopes, dreams, a future.
Things Ryan hadn't given up on, despite his words and his false bravado.
For the last eighteen months they had the privilege of watching him turn into a self-confident teenager, accepting the challenges of a new family and a new life.
Even the summer spent in Chino…
No… Sandy didn't want to think about that, how empty the house was. But Ryan came back. Seth came back. A family together.
No note, no clues, no answers. Damn. Sandy sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers massaging the tension that was building behind his eyes. After the spots stopped dancing beneath his eyelids, he pushed himself off the bed, his hand brushing against something.
Ryan's leather wrist cuff.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ryan absently ran his fingers over the bare spot on his wrist. He had thought that by leaving his cuff on the bed, Sandy and Kirsten would know he was coming back. He hoped they weren't worried.
That was something he wasn't used to yet.
Being worried over.
That had probably been the hardest adjustment to living with the Cohens. He'd gone from no one giving a damn about him to an almost suffocating amount of concern for his welfare… And he liked it.
Ryan shook his head at Trey's offer of a second cigarette. Not that he didn't want it, but he knew there were only a few left in the pack and he wanted to find out what the fuck was going on and why the hell was his brother in his bedroom at 4 in the morning. He wanted answers before Trey came up with the excuse of needing more smokes.
He watched as Trey absently played with the small medallion on the chain around his neck.
St. Jude.
Patron Saint of lost causes.
Trey and Arturo both thought it had been a joke when 'Turo's mom gave one to both of her "two troublemakers". Ryan knew she'd been serious. Just as she'd been when she put her arms around his shoulders and reminded him he would always be a "good boy". That he would make her proud. Mrs. Alvarez knew he wasn't the father of Theresa's baby, but she did an excellent job of pretending that they would have the "happily fucking ever after"…
And then there was no more baby.
Just like that.
Not even safe inside a mother's womb.
Protected and loved.
Cared for by three people trying to make everything perfect.
Ryan pushed those thoughts to the dark recesses of his brain. He couldn't think about that now.
This was about Trey.
Trey stood up and held out his hand for Ryan to pull himself up with.
"Let's walk little brother, maybe you can help me figure a way out of this mess.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
10:30 AM.
Kirsten sat at her desk, methodically moving a pile of paperwork from one side of her desk to another, stopping only to redial Ryan's cell phone.
The one they told him had better be with him whenever he left the house.
The one that was sending all messages straight to voice mail.
Each message identical.
A forced calm.
A request to call home.
A "love you, sweetie…"
It was the not knowing that was making her anxious. Did Ryan leave early this morning, soon after bidding them "good night" or sometime in between? What could have been so important that he couldn't talk to them before he left? Or left a note?
Since the boys returned home at the end of summer, she'd been afraid to let them out of her sight.
Irrational?
Yes.
A mother's perogative to be "slightly overprotective" after spending two months worrying half to death over her sons?
Absolutely.
Her shift into maternal overdrive?
It was about time she admitted she was a type A personality… She had a renovated family room to prove it.
Kirsten smiled as she remembered the thrill of seeing her boys when they walked into the kitchen together…
"Kiki...?"
Her smile faded as she warily looked up at her father. Kirsten picked up the neatly stacked papers and shuffled through them.
"I'm busy Dad… Not really a good time… Why don't you set something up with Grace? She'll know when I have an opening…"
"I hardly think I need an appointment to speak to my own daughter."
She put the papers down again and sighed. She definitely did not want to deal with her dad. Kirsten was still having trouble reconciling her father's betrayal of her mother… Her sister… Sisters… Herself. She looked up at the man who had become a stranger to her.
"Dad?"
"I want to talk to you about that boy and Lindsay…"
Kirsten shook her head.
"No… No way… I'm not having this discussion with you again. Ryan and Lindsay are friends."
Caleb cut in, ignoring Kirsten's effort to halt the conversation.
"He's trouble. He stole a car. He burned down my house. He's managed to scam his way into my family and I want you to keep that boy away from my…"
"Your what, dad?" Kirsten spat. Every emotion she'd been holding deep within herself since the summer came out as a part of a verbal assault directed at her father. She stood up and leaned forward.
"You've treated Lindsay like your dirty little secret for the last 16 years. That "boy"? His name is Ryan and you've treated him like he's our secret…"
"He's only after money… He got a girl pregnant. I won't allow…"
Kirsten's voice turned cold.
"Ryan took responsibility for a child that wasn't his. He was willing to give up everything for that baby. What did you give up, Dad? A cash filled envelope once a year? Faithfully delivered August first with a warning to Renee Wheeler not to say anything? You treat Ryan like dirt in his own home. You think no one heard the things you've said to him? Seth did and he came to us because he couldn't stand hearing you tear down his brother. It stops now or you won't be welcome in our home…"
"I built that house…" Caleb snapped.
Kirsten now stood inches away from him.
"Yeah, that's right. How can I forget." She lashed back. "Your design, your construction crew, your rules… And what did I do? I've cleaned up behind you. All your legal problems… Sandy's bailed you out, how many times? He could have been disbarred for what you needed him to do. Did you ever thank him? So yeah, you may have built my house, but my family has more than paid for it!"
She grabbed her briefcase and leveled one more glare at her father before leaving.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out…"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The brothers walked along the edge of the water, damp sand clinging to the bottom of Ryan's boots and Trey's prison issue runners. Ryan flipped up the shearling collar of his corduroy jacket and dug his hands deeper into the pockets. Trey seemed oblivious to the cold, instead enjoying the wind and the spray from the crashing waves.
"So these people you live with…. Looks like they're taking good care of you…"
Ryan nodded.
"Yeah…"
"School?"
"It's good…"
"You know I'll kick your ass if you flunk out. One of the Atwoods has gotta go to college. Do something other than land in jail…"
Ryan gave a non-committal shrug, hiding a smile.
"Maybe…"
Trey cuffed him on the back of the head.
"OW… Okay… I think so…"
He side stepped when he saw Trey's hand come up again.
"Alright… I'm working my ass off so I can get a scholarship…" He elaborated, giving Trey a half smile.
Trey grinned as he grabbed Ryan and put him in a headlock…
"That's what I wanted to hear…" He rubbed his knuckles into his younger brother's head before releasing him. "C'mon, race you to the pier…"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
11 AM.
Seth watched the clock, trying to keep his mind off Ryan and Mr. Schmidt's mole. Calculus was the only class he and Ryan had together. He tried to listen as the teacher droned on about linear and quadratic inequalities. No one had seen Ryan that morning. Dr. Kim had cornered him earlier to ask of Ryan's whereabouts. Seth had stage whispered something about the Norwalk Virus, projectile vomiting and explosive uh, you know, before ducking into the boys washroom. He locked himself in a stall, thinking about his next move. Short of Ryan being beamed back to the "mothership" nothing else seemed to make sense. He had been purposely vague when Lindsay asked about Ryan, probably confirming her suspicions that he'd been dropped on his head more than once as a child.
He preferred the term enigmatic, but now was not the time for semantics.
He carefully opened the washroom door and looked down the empty hallway. Now was the time to escape.
Stealthily, of course.
Damn, he should have worn black.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
11:20 AM.
Ryan paid for the cigarettes, 2 cokes and a container of nachos covered in a cheese like substance. He shoved the smokes into his pocket, juggling the pop and nachos as he made his way back to the beach to where Trey was waiting. He handed his brother the chips and a coke before settling down on the sand. He shook his head at Trey's offering of food.
"No thanks…. You know that orange stuff is only 2 atoms away from being considered a polymer?"
Trey gave him a sideways glance before loading a chip with orange goo and putting it in his mouth.
"My baby brother… Science geek…" He waited a moment before he added. "Cool…"
Once Trey was finished eating, Ryan tossed him the package of Marlboro's.
"What do you want from me Trey?" Ryan kept his voice low and non-confrontational, leaning back on his elbows as he waited for an answer.
Words didn't always mean anything. Sometimes people talked just to hear themselves speak. Ryan had learned that more could be said in the silence separating the words. That's how it was between him and Trey.
Trey was on his third cigarette before he said. "I need your help…"
Ryan flicked an ash and brought his cigarette back up to his lips.
"It's not like that…. Cohen's your lawyer?"
A subtle nod was the answer.
"Think he'll help me?"
Ryan shrugged before answering, not taking his eyes off the ocean.
"We stole a car… You had a gun, drugs and priors… Sandy can't make that go away…"
Trey looked at his brother. Blue eyes mirrored by the same blue eyes.
"I don't want him to get me out… I need him to get me back in…"
