Thanks for the reviews and encouragement. Now that Bethy/reading updated her fabulous story "Fathers and Sons" I can't even kid myself into using that as a petulant excuse for not updating until she does.
Don't sue me Josh or I might be forced to fling bloaty chipmunks at you. My next business venture will be water wings for rodents because I'm getting tired of pulling their swollen carcasses out of the pool skimmers.
I own nothing.
Chapter Ten.
Kirsten's anger built as she finished reading the byline.
Bob O'Reilly.
By the time she was finished with him he'd be lucky if he could find a job writing copy for tv psychics.
The "unnamed source" quoted in the article? There was a special corner in hell reserved for him. She looked up at the knock on her office door.
"Mrs. Cohen? Your father asked me to remind you about the meeting with the shareholders at 11."
Kirsten glanced at the clock on her desk. The one next to the framed pictures of her boys.
Seth, Sandy and Ryan.
10:53.
She offered a tight smile to her assistant.
"Thank you Kelly. I'll be there in a minute…"
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The first phone call from Dr. Kim pissed him off. The second worried him. Now as Sandy drove towards the Harbour School both emotions battled back and forth. Worry over Ryan's whereabouts gave way to anger at the cause of him leaving school when he saw Ryan on the other side of the road, walking towards home, book bag slung over his shoulder, head down.
For the second time in history, Sandy Cohen defied the GPS lady.
Ryan concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. He struggled to take a full breath, biting back the cough that threatened to bring him down. He stopped walking and bent over, hands on his knees, eyes closed, concentrating on fighting the dizziness that suddenly draped over him.
He wasn't aware of the foot steps behind him.
He barely felt the arms that guided him to the car.
He didn't hear the whispered "let's get you home."
He did know that right now, he wasn't in control anymore.
And that scared him.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
10:58 AM
Kirsten steeled herself as she entered the board room. She nodded politely at the group as she waited for Caleb to finish his hard sell on the proposed new project in Huntington Beach.
Caleb turned his attention to his daughter.
"Wonderful. Now that the CFO is here we can get started… If everyone would take their seats…" He motioned towards the mahogany conference table. Just as he pulled out his own chair, he realized Kirsten hadn't sat down.
"Kiki?"
She apprised him coolly before approaching him. She held up the newspaper.
"Was this worth it?"
Caleb's eyes narrowed.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I would like however, to direct your attention back to our meeting…"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've tried everything in your power to tear my family apart."
Caleb shot a nervous glance around the room. The shareholders were listening intently to the verbal exchange.
"This isn't the time or place for this." He whispered forcefully.
That's where you're wrong, dad." Kirsten's voice hardened. "You made it the time and place. You want Ryan out of your life? Done…"
"I knew you'd finally come to your senses Kiki… That boy…"
Kirsten cut him off, thrusting the newspaper at his chest.
"Let me make it clear. Ryan is my kid, my son and since you can't accept him then it's you loss because he is a part of my family and we're a package deal. All or nothing. You made your choice…"
She turned to walk out, taking a couple of steps before looking back at her father.
"By the way? I quit…"
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11:41 AM
Seth snapped his phone shut and put it down beside his lunch tray. He looked at Lindsay who had been moving her salad around her plate, making symmetrical piles of organic mesclun mix.
"Dad picked Ryan up. Dr. Kim decided he needed a few days off."
He picked up his tuna melt but then decided he wasn't really that hungry.
"That's a good thing isn't it? I mean you said Ryan wasn't doing very well…"
He shook his head.
"Yeah,… I mean no, he's not, but for whatever reason that made sense to him, he didn't want to be at home… I mean he sounds like he's hacking up internal organs, he looks like shit and I don't know what to do to make it better…"
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Ryan offered no resistance as Sandy helped him into the guest room. He would have preferred his pool house but maybe if he played the part of the good little boy he'd at least be allowed his solitude.
Get his shit back together.
His way.
Without words.
By himself.
But how do you tell the only people left who give a crap about you that you want to be left the fuck alone?
Sandy disappeared for a few moments and came back holding a bottle of water and some Motrin. He shook out 2 pills and held them out to Ryan who took them passively and settled back on the bed. He flinched as Sandy felt his forehead. Sandy pretended not to notice. Ryan had become used to some physical contact from him in the last 18 months and had even started to return the gestures… A pat on the shoulder, a high five, the Cohen secret handshake…
"Sorry… I uh, I'll bring up some lunch…"
He left the room before Ryan could tell him he wasn't hungry.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kirsten took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself. Her father could be a real bastard. She'd always known that, but his saving grace had always been his love of family. Now she realized it had less to do with love of family than love of image. She and Sandy had provided the "heir apparent".
The perfect image of the next generation of the Newport Group.
Hailey was the image of their mother and Caleb could deny her nothing.
Lindsay? Caleb would try to twist her into his image. To strip away any part of Renee Wheeler and mould her into all things Nichol.
And Ryan? He didn't fit into her father's world but he damn well fit in hers.
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Sandy returned to the guest room 20 minutes later, bearing a mug of soup, some crackers and a bottle of juice. He steadied the tray with one hand and opened the door. Ryan pulled himself up, leaning against the headboard. Sandy noted the boy's haggard, bruised face and the uneasiness emanating from him. As he neared the bed, Ryan seemed to regroup, even offering the barest hint of a smile.
"I brought you some of Sophie Cohen's famous soup."
Ryan accepted the mug and peered inside. He looked skeptically at Sandy.
"It's chicken and stars…"
Sandy shrugged and smiled back.
"What can I say? Ma was always working or at a protest march. When I was growing up her cooking skills were limited to Campbell's and Swanson's. She didn't start cooking until she retired."
They sat in an uneasy silence as Ryan finished his soup. Putting his mug down on the bedside table he looked at Sandy and spoke quietly.
"I am dealing with it… everything… Maybe it's not the way you would, but… I'm working through all this shit the best I can… I just need you to trust me…"
Sandy took a moment to absorb what Ryan said. It was the first time the boy had mentioned the incident. Hell, it was the most he'd said in days.
"Okay. We'll follow your lead, but as a compromise, I want you to agree to stay in the guest room until you're feeling better. I know you'd rather be in your room but how about I promise Kirsten and I won't hover… much… very much… too much…."
That was acceptable. Ryan nodded.
" 'kay."
Sandy gathered up the empty mug, preparing to leave.
"Sandy…"
"Yeah kiddo…"
"Thanks for… you know… Trey… me…" Ryan's voice trembled. "All this… I, uh…"
He brushed the hair from Ryan's forehead, pleased when he didn't recoil from the touch.
"I know."
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Ryan struggled through the murky water. Sludge filled his ears and mouth, effectively muzzling him as he screamed for Trey. He could sense his brother, blindly reaching for him. He desperately swam, his lungs burning.
"Ry… don't leave…"
Ryan changed direction. The thick liquid seeping into his skin, weighing him down.
"C'mon little bro… Stop fucking around…"
Sinking further, heaviness crushing him.
"Help me…"
Ryan made a desperate grab, his fingers just reaching…grasping…
His arm was viciously twisted behind his back.
"Useless piece of shit."
He stopped struggling at the sound of the only voice he was truly afraid of.
"Did you really think you could get away, baby boy?"
Fingers closed around his throat.
Choking.
Constricting.
Strangling.
Unseen hands ripped him away. Ryan fought against the new threat.
"Ryan?"
"Trey?"
"Ry… dude… You need to wake up…"
Seth reached down and shook his brother's shoulder. Ryan's eyes flew open and he scrambled off the bed, confused, dizzy.
"Chill out Ry…"
He glared at Seth. Breathe… Slow it down…Just a dream…
"Don't call me "Ry"…"
"Okay… Okay bro…"
"I'm not your "bro"…"
Ryan sat down on the bed, all thoughts of controlled breathing gone. He angrily ran his hand through his hair. Seth sat down as well, keeping a healthy distance.
"I… I'm really sorry about Trey…" When Ryan didn't respond, Seth took that as a sign to continue. "I know what it's like to… you know, lose someone…"
"I don't want to hear about your grandmother."
Ryan spoke in a low, flat monotone. Unfortunately Seth took Ryan's comment as a personal affront, ignoring the figurative neon lights flashing a warning to back off.
"So this is your answer to everything? Ignore it and it'll go away? How's it working for you dude?"
Ryan got off the bed and started to walk away, taking a few steps before turning around. His voice is deceptively calm, despite the quick, shallow intake of air.
"Fuck you Seth. I'm dealing with this the only way I know how. Just because I don't obsess about every fucking detail of my life to whoever will listen doesn't mean I'm not dealing…"
"Hiding from us is dealing? You won't talk to us…" Seth stood up, his own anger building. "You're feeling sorry for yourself…"
Ryan took another step forward, his hands balled into tight fists. Seth involuntarily stepped back, hitting the edge of the bed and falling backwards. Ryan spoke through clenched teeth.
"Feel sorry for myself? You don't have a clue how I feel, so take your happy memories with grandma and shove 'em up your ass."
