Homeless 9
*Trigger Warnings for Near Sexual Assault*
Regina stays late into the night, bent over reading at her wooden desk for hours that pass without her notice aside from the ache that brews in her lower back from sitting for so long. She should probably go back to the motel and get some real sleep, but the prospect of having to spend time with Sidney on this case tomorrow has her brows drawn tight and determined to get as much of the deposition done as possible while he isn't around.
In all honesty she isn't actually certain sleep would find her after reading file after file right now anyway. Four days ago, a man by the name of David Shepherd was arrested for murdering his soon to be father in law in apparent cold blood. The patriarch was shot three times in the chest at point blank range whilst he held a tumbler of whiskey in his grasp. The photos are gruesome, the amount of blood pooled on the cream couch, the lifeless eyes of the older man wide and vacant, it's enough to have her stomach knotting.
She thumbs through the pile of photos, the gun - a Walther P226, the blood splatter across the walls, autopsy images, bullet holes, fingerprints dusted around the room, and the DNA matches to Mr. Shepherd. It's a fairly convincing report.
The deceased, Archibald Midas, was a filthy rich businessman who traded in exports of gold. His daughter, Kathryn, is twenty-nine, a graduate from Harvard Law, his only child and sole heir to his company and fortune, soon to be wed to David in the spring. And then his wife, Lucile Midas, a conservative woman who dabbled in Kentucky politics before marrying Archibald nearly thirty years ago. A powerful family in every essence. They look perfect, she has to admit, as her finger traces over their last family photo. A stoic, frozen portrait, one of America's most famed and untouchable families.
She reads about David Shepherd. A young man from Connecticut, a degree in environmental sciences from a small university on the east coast, a job with a hydro-electric company that moved him out west to Seattle where he met Kathryn Midas. They'd been engaged two years later, a lavish wedding currently being planned, one to rival any in history. From everything Regina can see or read, David and Kathryn seemed happy, a fairytale couple.
So then why would David murder his father in law?
Why destroy his family?
And why does he claim his innocence when both Kathryn and Lucile were eyewitnesses to the brutal shooting?
She's drowned herself over every line of their statements, and it's hard to think of anything but David is clearly guilty.
The Midas family had just finished dinner and moved into the study. Lucile and Kathryn shared a bottle of wine, Archibald an expensive whiskey. They were talking about the wedding, where Kathryn wanted to go for a honeymoon, when she and David thought of starting a family. It was any other normal night in their household.
Kathryn had gone to refill her wine glass when a drunk and enraged David came bursting into the den, a gun in his hand.
He'd begun to yell about it all being unfair. He was supposed to have this life. It was stolen from him. He was the one who deserved to be rich, to be loved and wanted.
It all had Regina's brow furrowing. Did he not have all of that?
Kathryn's statement went on to say that she tried to get David to put the gun down, to reason with him, but he tossed her off, sputtering more nonsense and threatening to shoot her. Archibald had stood to defend his daughter, a heated argument ensued between the two men, and then three shots went off. All three point blank range into Archibald Midas' chest and David fled.
Lucile had been the one to call 911, the police and ambulance arrived six minutes later, but the family patriarch was already dead upon arrival.
Lucile and Kathryn were taken to the hospital, examined for injuries, questioned by the police for hours on end before they were allowed to leave. Regina's heart aches as she looks over the pictures of the two women. Life is so fragile, it can be taken in an instant, without reason, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in ones heart for all eternity.
David had been picked up a few hours later at his apartment. Apparently bewildered and frantic over his arrest. He'd begged to phone Kathryn, swore he had nothing to do with it, he loved Archibald like a father. His statement is befuddled and filled with anguished confusion. He'd gone out for a slice of pizza after work, grabbed a beer at the pub down the road, stayed for maybe an hour or two before he headed home.
Archibald was shot at 9:34pm, David swore he'd been at the bar at that time, pleaded with the police to look at the security footage at the pub. And it would have helped, she supposes, but the manager at Darby's bar had sheepishly admitted that their cameras had been down for over a week, there was no footage of David. The bartender that night couldn't really say if he saw David or not, thought he had, but couldn't be absolutely sure. What's worse, is that David paid in cash, there is no paper trail of his supposed alibi.
Regina stares down at the mugshot of David Shepherd and something shifts in her. His eyes are red from crying, exhaustion painted across his features, but what holds her attention is the look his gaze, disbelief and pain. He's devastated. Or at least appears to be. Which makes no sense. He shot Archibald.
Why would he be this anguished over it? Perhaps it's simply because he was caught. A guilty conscience?
Her stomach groans in hunger, and she finally leans away from the box of files. She arches and pops her neck with a hiss before glancing down at Daniel's watch on her wrist.
It's nearly midnight. Fuck. The last train is at 11:50, there is no way she'll make it. She's going to have to walk… nine miles back to the motel in the dark. A thought that has her feet already aching. It's cold outside, a pattering of rain dancing along the window pane and she has no umbrella. She groans, and shrinks into the chair debating her options. The office is warm, quiet and blessedly safe from the motel's manager. But it also is risky, someone could see her sleeping here and start to ask questions about her life, or lack there of and she would rather not be entirely humiliated in her first week.
She scratches dully against the ache at the base of her neck, a headache brewing as the minutes tick by. Certainly she's made a dent in the deposition, has highlighted and noted her ass off over each and every detail of the murder, has a paper pad full of questions and timelines to clarify with Royce in the morning. She's done a lot of work, surely he will have to see that.
The one glaring question she has is the fact that the police report had David's alcohol content registering 0.01, barely anything. But Kathryn and Lucile had adamantly sworn that he was drunker than a skunk, stumbling, slurring, they could smell the tequila on him.
He'd been picked up not four hours after the murder, and that surely isn't enough time for David to have sobered almost entirely.
Something isn't right about it. About the entire murder. She can feel it in her gut. Royce has missed something, a key piece in the puzzle. Not that she is going to tell him that before figuring it out. She is rather certain he wouldn't take kindly to the suggestion that he hasn't fully combed through the case.
The hours she has to connect the dots are quickly dwindling away.
A yawn escapes her, a heavier sigh following as she curls her feet into the chair and leans sleepily against the arm. It's uncomfortable, but she's slept on worse than a leather chair, it beats wet cement any day.
Maybe just for an hour she'll close her eyes, two tops, and then she'll get back to this case. Her brain just needs a breather. It's been a long time since she has had to think about anything other than where her next meal is coming from. A murder case, especially one this big... well she can't be faulted for needing a second to collect herself, right?
Tugging the blazer up around her shoulders, Regina sighs into it's vague illusion of warmth, but it's better than nothing, better than having to make the trek back to the motel.
It will just be for an hour, just a bit of shut eye. It's only been a day and she is already exhausted. Strangely though as her eyes flutter closed, a thought passes through her that it is the best kind of exhaustion she's had in years. Tired from work. From using her brain like she once had. There is a purpose to this exhaustion. It feels good. So so good.
The last thing she sees before sleep overrides is the photo of David Shepherd eyes, glossed over in anguish, and she can't help but think that it's certainly not the look of a cold-blooded murderer.
The sun is just a little brighter today in Robin's opinion as he makes his way down the sidewalk and into the office. Today feels like a good day. Perhaps it's because he went to bed with a smile plastered onto his face, thanks to the prospect his dinner plans tomorrow, or maybe it's just because the air is warm outside, either way he feels almost giddy.
Giddy at the thought that tomorrow he'll get to talk to Regina again, to learn a little bit more about her, to see that gorgeous smile and hopefully get a laugh or two as well.
And the jovial mood doesn't end, not even as he walks into his office only to find his chair commandeered by his sister. He simply shakes his head and hangs up his coat as her bright blue eyes dare him to make a comment about her seated location. Mal is not one to be fought with, he has thirty three years of experience to know that most of the time is better to keep the peace rather than allow his sister to breathe her fire.
"You look cheery today," she pokes with a curious smirk as Robin reaches for the second coffee steaming away on the desk. He shrugs, avoiding Mal's look, "It feels like a cheery kind of day." He can feel her staring at him, the pointed, quizzical look at his aloofness, and he finds a touch of satisfaction in the roll of her eyes when he doesn't answer with anything more than with a smile directed her way.
Brushing off her indignance, Robin spins gently in the chair across from her, "Aside from missing your dastardly handsome brother, what brings you in on this fine morning?"
"Mom and Marco want to know what the plan for Roland's birthday party is."
"Already?" Robin baffles, "It's two weeks away."
Mal chuckles into her coffee, "You know them. If there isn't a plan in place a year before that means it wasn't planned right."
Robin shakes his head incredulously, "It's a five year old's birthday party. How much planning do I realistically need to do aside from getting a cake and some balloons?" Mal sighs a touch dramatically as though it is the most obvious thing in the world, "You need a theme, Robin."
He simply stares back at her, perplexed to say the least. "A theme? I didn't have one last year."
"That's because you took him to visit Marian's parents in Portugal." Mal deadpans. "We didn't celebrate Roland's birthday here."
Robin in winces, he knows it's a sore spot for his family. But last year just seemed a little bit lonely, he was missing Marian horribly and her parents had been asking to see Roland anyway. It just seemed like a good idea to take him. What he hadn't anticipated was the disheartened looks on his own family's face at the decision. Roland is the only grand-child so far, and he is spoiled utterly rotten by everyone.
It seems he has some serious making up to do this year. Admitting defeat, he reaches for a paper pad and pencil, twirling it in his fingers, "Alright, what kind of party am I throwing?"
They toy with ideas for nearly an hour, going back and forth over what Roland would love and what Robin is capable of pulling off. The petting zoo was an immediate no and a circus theme soon followed, no one really likes clowns anyway. Mal's Avengers suggestion was certainly a contender, both of them sharing a laugh at attempting to convince Elsa's rather large husband John to come as Thanos. In the end they settled on Jurassic Park, or at least the child friendly version of it.
It crosses his mind more than once how much easier this would be if Marian were still around. She would be all over this kind of party planning for their son. She would know all the little things that would make it just a bit more special, would think of the smallest details to make it perfect. He misses her every day but the ache is always a little deeper around Roland's birthday.
"So, I'll get the blow up dinosaurs, Mom will do the cake, and you are good to grab streamers and balloons, right?"
Robin nods as he clicks his pen, "His birthday is on a Wednesday this week, I assume we can throw this shindig on the Saturday then?"
"My schedule is clear." Mal smiles, "Oh, and you'll have to ask who he wants to invite, and call their parents. Oh, damn, and we will need to make goodie bags."
"Goodie bags?" Robin's brow shoots high. "Roland will already have presents, what are the bags for?"
His sister sighs, dropping her head defeatedly as she shakes her head at him, "You are hopeless sometimes, you know that?" She grins at his confusion, "It's for the other kids. Like a parting gift to them as a thank you for coming."
"I have to get other kids presents on my own son's birthday?"
"It's just a bag of little toys and candy, nothing crazy. But make sure it's all dino themed."
"Dinosaur themed candy?" He slumps into his chair, running a hand over his face, this party suddenly seeming like a daunting task. Marian would have it all done and planned he is certain, and the thought has his heart sinking.
Mal's fingers reach across the table, wrapping gently around his own with a squeeze. "I know it's hard without Marian." He nods, glancing down at the long list in front of him. "She would be so good at this kind of stuff. Sometimes I wonder how I have managed to raise Roland without her." Robin sighs heavily.
"You've done an amazing job with him. He's a great kid, Robin. Marian would be really proud of you." She squeezes his palm once more before slipping back into her own chair.
"I hope so. I just want to make sure that I am doing everything I can to raise him right."
"You are." Mal shakes her head, "And you always have us around to help, you know that, right?"
Robin chuckles, "I think the fact you're in my office at nine AM asking me about my son's birthday party plans is pretty evident of that."
Smirking, Mal reaches for her coffee, "Yes, well, I love my nephew. I had to make sure he was going to be utterly spoiled this year."
Robin laughs, his hand gesturing down at the full list on the table, "Have you seen this list? I don't even know how I am going to pull this off. I am going to need to hire a crew just to get it done."
"Not a bad idea," Mal chuckles. "Anyway, I best be off and let you get to work on Jurassic Park."
Robin walks her to the door, kisses her cheek and bids his sister a goodbye, shaking his head with a laugh as he hears her ask his secretary if she knows where to buy blow up dinosaurs. He has to hand it to Mal, there is nothing more important to her than family, and Robin is damn grateful for having such a large one.
He slides back to his desk, turns to face the window, and glances down at the street, wondering perhaps if he will get lucky enough to see Regina walking down the sidewalk.
Maybe he should invite her to the party too. Roland would love it. He'll have to ask her at dinner. His smile spreads once more as he thinks about tomorrow, about getting to see her again and as much as he misses his wife every day, he wonders if perhaps it would be alright with her that he has begun to wonder if he has found a second chance at love.
She wakes to the stale smell of cigarettes and a kink in her neck. Groaning, Regina cracks her eyes open, blearily blinking away the last remnants of sleep as she shifts in the office chair.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
His voice freezes her. Her eyes flying open as she jolts upright, meeting Sidney's smirk with a flare of embarrassment coursing through her. His eyes draw over her body, lingering a little to long as Regina adjusts her wrinkled skirt. She swallows thickly, "How long have you been sitting there?"
He shrugs, flips his tie between his fingers, "A while."
"You were watching me sleep?" Her stomach rolls as she combs her fingers through her hair, knowing she must look like an absolute mess.
He licks his lips and cocks a brow, "I simply was curious as to why you were here and not at home. It's rather odd to sleep in ones office."
Regina recoils, it's not like she has a home, but she can't tell him that. No one can know. Especially him. "I was here late going through the case last night, I must have dozed off." She fumbles to pull her blazer on, wishing he would stop staring at her. She glances down at her watch, and frowns for a moment. "Why are you here so early? The office doesn't open till nine."
The slight snarl that curls into his lips has Regina's chest constricting. "Are you displeased that I am here?"
She shakes her head, feeling a little more trapped with each passing second.
"I'll remind you that we are working on this case together, we will be spending a lot of nights and early mornings alone, I am certain." His gaze darkens, "I think it best that we get along, don't you?"
Regina nods, hoping that he can't see the way her fingers tighten in her lap.
"Good. Now, I assume you actually did some work last night." He leans back into his chair, eyeing up the stack of files on her desk, "What did you find?"
Regina shifts, thankful that they can move on from the way he is staring at her and onto something she can distract herself with instead of the smell of smoke that seeps off of him. "I went through the statements, and it's not adding up."
"What isn't?"
"Kathryn and Lucile both said that David was drunk, slurring his words."
"You're point being?"
"His blood alcohol levels when the Police picked him up didn't register anything. It was only four hours after the murder, no one can sober up that quickly."
Sidney scowls as he snatches the file from Regina's desk, "Both women put Mr. Shepherd at the crime scene. Their statements were exactly the same. He was drunk."
"I'm aware, but it just doesn't make sense to me."
"Are you saying they lied?" His eyes flick up to Regina's angrily. "I'll have you know the Midas' are good friends of Royce. I don't think he would take to kindly to you calling them liars."
"I'm not." Regina shrinks, wishing he didn't have this way of making her feel so small. "I am only suggesting that maybe we need to go talk to David."
"Royce already has."
"I know."
Sidney's brow arches as he sneers down at her. "So you're suggesting Royce did a poor job interviewing the suspect?"
"No." Regina shakes her head quickly, "I'm not saying that at all."
"That's what it sounds like." He crosses one leg over the other, tossing the file back onto Regina's desk with a thud, "From what I gather, you are saying you don't believe either woman, nor your own boss' aptitude, and clearly are in over your head with this already."
Her jaw drops, "I spent the entire night going over all the details of this case, and I just think that perhaps something isn't adding up." She bites down on her lip, hoping to stop the quivering in her voice as Sidney glares at her. And she wishes she could look him in the eye, but her gaze drops defeatedly down to the table as she shrinks into the chair.
She hears him stand, scoffing as he rights his tie, "All I can tell is that you have failed miserably at this one simple task and opted to get a good night's rest instead of doing your job." He scowls, "Honestly I don't know what I expected from you. Given your past. Perhaps you aren't cut out to work here."
Her heart drops. Sinks and flounders away into the abyss of self doubt.
He leans over the desk, sneers down at the files, "I'll deal with Royce this morning. Stay here and try to get something done." He shakes his head disappointedly at her, and Regina feels like a small child being chastised. "And for God sakes straighten yourself out, this office has a reputation."
The door to her office shuts with a slam and the tears burn hot along her lashes not a second later. Shame runs rampant as she sniffs hard against the tears, willing them not to fall lest Sidney walk back in and chastise her again. This would be so much easier if she could work with someone else, someone who didn't know about her past. Luck, however, has never been on her side.
Her fingers card through her hair, tugging out the small knots at the end, and she scowls down at the wrinkles in her shirt, there is no chance someone in this office won't see just how unprofessional she looks right now. Perhaps she could make a quick run back to the motel to change. Though the second she thinks it, she knows it's impossible. If she leaves and Royce comes in, he'll have her fired surely for skipping out at work without being able to give a good enough reason for her absence.
Wiping away her tears, she stands, attempts to straighten out her clothing best as possible and darts out to the bathroom, hoping that a bit of soap and water will help in some way.
The bathroom door clicks shut and Regina falls against it, trying to regain the shake in her breathing. How she ever thought this job was going to work out she doesn't know. She could quit. Try and find something else. A different office where Sidney isn't around. Though she's not entirely certain that he won't spill her secrets to every law office in the state if she tries to leave. Realistically she can't quit anyway. She needs the money, needs to get out of that motel as soon as possible.
The taps squeak on as she gulps down a mouthful of cold water, wishing for a bit of toothpaste or mouthwash. The defeat she feels as her hands cup around the tap grows, flourishes and burns hot as she tries to wipe the smudged makeup off, hoping to god no one will notice just how red rimmed her eyes are. She really is a mess, isn't she? Mother would be so disappointed.
Maybe it's best if she doesn't say anything more about David's case. Maybe it's better if she just follows behind Royce and Sidney, the less she questions, the easier this case has to go for her, right? But it sits heavy in her stomach, a brick of lead weighing her down. Something isn't right, they missed something. The mugshot of David Shepherd, the look on his face, the utter pain and sadness in his eyes, her gut is telling her that he is innocent.
Daniel always used to tell her to follow her gut.
"Oh, good morning, Regina!" The bathroom door swings open, a cheerful Belle on the other end smiling her way. "I didn't realize you were here already." The younger woman's gaze flickers over Regina, her smile faltering as Regina's eyes don't quite meet her own. "Are you alright?"
Regina nods quickly, "Yes, thank you. I'm fine. Good morning to you too, Belle." She tries to smile back.
"Are you sure? I hope you don't mind me asking, but you look upset." Belle shifts to stand beside her at the vanity counter. Regina shakes her head, running a hand through her hair, "Just a rough start to the day, but I am truly fine. Thank you."
She thinks Belle will drop it, but instead Regina finds one of her hands suddenly being gently encased. Belle smiles softly, "If you are sure, but if not, you can always talk to me. I'm a good listener."
She is far too sweet for her own good, Regina thinks, as she squeezes Belle's hand back. Far too pure and kind to be touched with the darkness that hugs Regina like a vice.
"I saw Sidney earlier. Did he say something to you?"
"Why would you think that?"
"Because the man is a slime ball." Belle shrugs, "Trust me, I do not envy you having to work with him."
Regina laughs wetly as the tears slip back along her lashes. "Honestly, I would do pretty much anything to not have to work with him."
"Why don't you talk to August?" Belle's brow frowns at the sadness across Regina's face. "He knows that Sidney is... less than desirable. I am sure he'd switch you to a different case if you asked."
That would be admitting defeat and letting Sidney know he holds some sort of control over her, and that just can't happen. She'll die before she lets that man get another ounce of satisfaction in terrorizing her again.
Regina shakes her head, sniffs and swallows heavily, "I just started here, I don't think I can go running to the boss already because I don't like my co-worker."
"In any case, if you need someone to tell Sidney to leave you alone, I am more than happy to do so."
"Thank you, Belle. That's very kind, but I'll be fine."
"If you're sure."
The younger woman smiles gently, before releasing Regina's hand and rummaging around in her own bag. "Here, I always carry a few extra makeup wipes in my bag." She hands Regina a little blue package, "Oh, and I have some extra lipstick and mascara in here somewhere."
It stuns Regina the kindness this young woman is showing her. There is no need for it truly, they don't even know one another that well. They only met yesterday in truth. And yet, Belle is here regardless, comforting a woman she doesn't know anything about, helping her reapply makeup just because she can see Regina is less than prepared for the day.
"There." Belle caps the rouge lipstick, "Gorgeous as ever."
"Thank you." Regina smiles a touch bashfully, "I appreciate it more than you know."
Taking a quick look in the mirror, Regina sighs, at least she looks somewhat presentable now, hopefully enough that Royce won't notice and ask questions. Speaking of which, she needs to get back to David's case, it's not like she can hide in the bathroom forever.
With one last smile, Regina walks back out, forcing her spine to stand straight as she glides past Sidney's office, not glancing in his direction for even a second as she makes her way to her desk and back to the stack of papers that await her.
She needs this job, and if this case is going to be the one to secure her position here, well she can't exactly run away from it either.
Gently, she pulls David's file back open, and starts to read all over again.
The afternoon goes on without much interest. He's had a couple meetings about new products, another with the CFO of the company, a quick presentation about their third quarter and now he's back in his office, spinning lazily in his chair as he stares out the window.
It's past lunch, and Robin wonders if he missed Regina in the park today. He wonders if she is having a good day, if she has smiled a little, if those in the law firm are treating her with kindly. He hopes so. She deserves some happiness. And the more he wonders about her, the more his mind has him reaching for his phone and finding her name.
He clicks it, and then hesitates. Surely she is busy, probably doesn't have much time for a quick chat on the phone, regardless of how much he'd like to hear her voice, he doesn't want to interrupt her day. Debating, Robin scratches through the hair at the nape of his neck, thumbing a quick text and deleting it nearly as fast.
Perhaps he should just let her be. He could always text her later in the day, or this evening. The thing is, he just wants to know if she is alright. It's a consuming buzz in his mind, is she having a good day? Is there something that could make it better? Can he do something to make it better? Is texting her a happy hello really all that bad? Is he being too clingy? He can't be, can he? They are just friends, or at least he really wants them to be, hopes that she considers him a friend.
After the conversation in the park yesterday and the afternoon at the cemetery, Robin has spent more time than not thinking about her, her past, Daniel and Henry, the absolute misery her life has been. It has his heart aching at the thought he barely did anything to help her for three years. He feels guilty for it. Perhaps that's why he feels so adamant that he do better by her, for her.
Surely it has nothing to do with the gorgeous smile that graces her lips. Nor can it have anything to do with the way her laugh has his heart skipping around like a besotted fool. It certainly can't be the incessant thoughts of what it would be like to hold her hand, to truly feel the softness of her skin under his palms.
Sure, he held her at the cemetery, let her cry on his shoulder and wiped away all the tears with this thumb. But that was different. That was consoling someone who has lost everything in the world. He'd have to be downright evil and cold hearted to turn her away in that moment.
This feeling in his chest is different. It is warm and soft and curious about all the things he doesn't know about her, all the things he wants to learn. It should strike him as odd that he has such a pull towards a woman he doesn't truly know much about. And yet, instead of wishing it away, Robin finds himself soaking in it.
It can't hurt to text her.
Breathing in a self assured breath, Robin types out a quick, "Hello! Hope your day is going well," and tucks his phone into his coat pocket, praying that his greeting will be warmly welcomed. Flipping his computer on, Robin sets his mind to work, or at least tries to as he waits for his pocket to hopefully vibrate.
He's supposed to be focusing on the new filtration system for next season's water bottle and he truly tries for a good ten minutes to go over the plans, but his focus fades quickly. He sighs, leaning back heavily in his chair. Chewing on his lip, he pulls his phone out again, clicks open on Regina's name and beams as he sees the three little bubbles blinking at the bottom.
The anticipation kills him as he waits for whatever it is she is going to say.
RM: Hello to you too.
He tries to not let his grin take over but he finds himself unable to control it as he quickly types back.
RL: How's the day?
The bubbles pop up and disappear three times over, and he frowns in waiting for her response.
RM: It's alright.
RL: Kicking the law's arse yet?
RM: More like it's kicking mine.
RL: I am certain you will do phenomenal.
RM: You have much more faith than I do.
He scowls. Surely she has to know just how utterly brilliant she is? The bubbles pop up again.
RM: How's your day?
RL: I find myself throwing a dinosaur party next weekend and that I have to say is much more terrifying than any work project I have.
RM: Dinosaurs?
Robin chuckles.
RL: Roland's birthday is next week. Apparently I am a daft parent for not knowing I had to have a themed party at the ready for him.
RM: You're not daft.
He grins, his heart tapping happily alongside his fingers as he replies.
RL: I appreciate that, M'lady. I still can't fathom how I am going to pull this off. Thankfully I have my sister helping me with decorations and my mother is doing the cake.
RM: Sounds like you have it covered then.
RL: Pray for me regardless.
RM: What exactly do you need to get?
Robin glances down at the list he and Mal penned together, exhaling heavily at it's length.
RL: Streamers, balloons, a banner, err... dinosaur themed plates and cutlery, I assume for the cake. My sister is apparently getting blow up dinosaurs for the lawn. And I need to get something called goodie bags for the other children and make invitations for Roland to give out at school this week.
RM: Finnegan's Toy Store on Washington will have all of that. That or possibly Mudpuddles on Kearney.
RL: You are incredible. I was hoping Fred Meyer would have it all, but I believe your suggestions will prove much more rewarding. Thank you.
RM: You're welcome. I remember little boys' birthday parties very well. Though most of Henry's were in the hospital.
His heart sinks. Sure he is feeling overwhelmed with the to-do list, but how fortunate he is to still have the opportunity to throw his son a party.
RL: I am positive Henry's birthdays were incredible.
RM: I certainly tried.
For a minute he isn't sure what to say back. He doesn't want to bring up painful memories for her.
RM: Anyway, I better get back to work. I'm already in hot water and it's only day one.
RL: Is everything alright?
RM: It is what it is.
RL: Would you like to talk about it? I am all ears if you do.
RM: I appreciate that but no. It's just something I have to deal with on my own.
His brow frowns at that. She isn't alone, at least he doesn't want her to feel that way. This is what he was hoping to provide for her, a shoulder to lean on. Raking a hand over his face, he sighs.
RL: Well if you ever do, I am here.
RM: Thank you. Have a good evening, Robin.
RL: You as well, M'lady.
He sets his phone down, feeling a touch dismayed by the unsettledness in her last text. Something is clearly going on, and it pains him that she is having to deal with it. He doesn't want that. He just wants her to be happy and obviously that isn't the case.
Discouraged, Robin spins in his chair towards the window, wondering what he could possibly do to turn this around for her. He doesn't want to meddle. But between yesterday at the park and today's conversation... he doesn't want to overstep, but perhaps he needs to make a quick phone call, just to ensure that Regina is being treated with the utmost respect. He knows some of the people in that law firm aren't exactly wanted company.
He won't meddle. Not yet. But if this sadness around her persists he might just have to.
For now, he focuses on what will make her smile tomorrow at dinner. Roland is always good for a few chuckles, but he wants Regina to feel truly content. He doesn't really know what will make that happen, but for the next twenty-four hours his mind will work overtime to come up with a solid plan.
It's nearly ten before she leaves the office. Royce hadn't made an entrance all day, and she can only assume that Sidney relayed just how poor of a job she had done. Oddly she is almost grateful that she doesn't have to face Royce, at least not right now when her head is pounding from exhaustion, her stomach cramping in hunger. She hadn't eaten lunch, can't afford it right now. The three dollars in her pocket are just enough to get her a train ticket back to the station closest to the motel. At least there she can scrounge up another dollar or two for the vending machine.
She slides quietly out of the office, David's file in tow, hoping that once she swallows down some dry, stale potato chips she will be able to focus enough again to come up with a more suitable answer to the glaring questions that still reside in the murder case.
The train is graciously empty as she slides into a solo chair, her head leaning heavily against the cold window pane as the city begins to whip by. How she is going to get through this case, she isn't quite sure. Sidney is clear in his intent on holding her hostage, a noose tied around her neck if she doesn't live up to expectations tomorrow. It's daunting and nauseating all at once. Tears flush against her lashes as her eyes close. She can't say anything about her past to anyone. They can't know about that night with Sidney, she is relatively certain he wouldn't want anyone to know either, but at least he wasn't the one begging for money, willing to sink to the lowest level just to get a few dollars to buy herself dinner.
He could probably explain it all away and keep his job unscathed, she won't be so lucky, of that she is certain.
The train begins to slow, and Regina hugs her blazer tight, it does little against the chilled wind biting at her as she walks the seven blocks to the motel. Her heart thumps hard as the glaring yellow sign comes into view. Her breath is shaky as she searches for any sign of movement in the managers' office as she quickly climbs the stairs to her room. Thankfully the lights are off and Regina breathes a sigh of relief as she tucks the files under arm and reaches for her key.
"Good Evening, Regina." A body squares behind her, close enough she can feel his chest brush against her back. Regina swallows tightly, keys gripped between her fingers. "Mr. Park. What can I do for you?" She turns her head to the side, hoping he will move a foot back, enough space that will dissipate the bourbon stench of his breath.
He doesn't.
"There is no need for formalities. Not with us." He grins behind her, a hand landing on her bicep, grabbing at her blazer, guiding her to slowly shuffle around and face him. She can't see his eyes he's so close, a head taller than her, stronger than her, and fear begins to pump into her heart. "You look quite nice tonight, I must say."
She clenches a small thank you out, backing herself up into the rickety wooden door. Jefferson stumbles slightly, wavers in his stance, locking his hand around her arm to hold himself up. He reeks of alcohol; it makes her eyes burn. "I was just about to turn in, did you need something?"
Blearily his gaze locks onto hers, a dark glint flickering through as he steps into her once more. "You haven't paid to stay tonight. Technically I am here to ask you to leave."
Her stomach bottoms out. "I know. I'm sorry. My paycheck comes in two weeks. I promise I'll pay everything I owe."
Jefferson chuckles, wiping a hand over his mouth as his eyes drop down to her bust. "I can't let you stay without payment." His fingers trail slowly up her arm, over her shoulder to fiddle with the ends of her hair. "Can't be having the other guests think I am playing favorites with you now, can I?"
Her pulse pounds as his leg wedges between hers, a shaky palm flying up to press against his chest as he leans down. "Stop." His hand moves down her other arm, wrapping around her wrist as she struggles against his body weight pinning her to the doorway. "Jefferson. Stop."
He smiles wolfishly, licking his lips as his hand skims up her hip. "You are a beautiful woman, Regina." His fingers flex around her, digging painfully into her ribs, "So full of gorgeous curves."
"Please, just stop. You're drunk."
His brow furrows as she tries to extricate herself from him, a hard growl escaping his throat, "I run a business here, Regina. I won't be taken advantage of just because of a pretty smile." His hand moves to cup her jaw, a thumb scratching over her lower lip as she stands frozen. "You want to stay, don't you?" She nods, curling her arms around her waist as Jefferson presses into her, "It's not really like you have anywhere else to go, do you?"
She shrinks into the door with a trembling exhale. "No, I don't." The words fall out almost as pitifully as they feel in her heart.
Jefferson tips her chin up, drops down to ghost a breath over her temple as he inhales greedily at her cheek. "Then pay up."
The stench of bourbon envelopes her, but it is nothing compared to the feeling of his lips against hers, hard and unrelenting. His teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging at the tender flesh before he drives back in for another kiss, stealing the terrified breath from Regina.
His stubble scratches roughly along her exposed throat, the wet press of lips sucking at her skin. Tears flush into her eyes, and she writhes uncomfortably beneath him. Her nails bite into his shoulders, scouring anywhere she can find purchase to tear him off. Horridly it seems to only spur him on as he groans into her neck, a palm finding hard purchase against her stomach, securing her into the door and trapped between his body. A pinched scream escapes at the feeling of his hand on her breast, groping crudely.
"Get off. P-please." Regina struggles, panic stricken as the top button of her blouse pops open.
Between them she wriggles a hand against his face, pushing him with every ounce of strength she has away from her exposed lace covered breasts. Jefferson moves faster than alcohol should allow, his fingers grasping around both her wrists, slamming them down by her sides, rendering her arms constricted. Regina shouts at the blunt stab of pain. The sharp drag of his teeth against tender skin.
Time slows and her mind fades into darkness, as it had done once before. If her body can't fight, then at least her mind can go blank, let the pain disappear for a few awful minutes and it will all be over with.
She thinks of Daniel. The curve of his eyes, the slope of his nose, pink flush in his lips. She thinks about running her hands through his hair as he slept soundly against her chest. The soft, steady, warm breaths puffing against her skin. He was always so calm, a balm that could soothe her soul in the worst of times. She thinks of his laugh, bright and bold as he'd chase Henry around the front yard.
It surrounds her, chases away the evil in the world, the evil that grunts and groans against her neck. Tears spill down her cheeks with every pass of Jefferson's hands as she tries to hold onto the light in her mind. Focus on them, not on him. Focus on them and everything will be okay. Focus on them and this isn't really happening.
A sharp bite to her breast has a scream spilling out of her, pulling her back into reality. Her blouse is half undone, strewn and tugged awkwardly open. She can feel his grip on her wrists have loosened, his knees beginning to sag against her in his bourbon induced state. Flexing a hand free, she pushes him slowly away, shaking as he drunkenly follows the pressure and moves away from her.
He licks his lips, chews on nothing for a moment as his eyes wobble in and out of focus. "I suppose that is enough to let you stay till Friday," he slurs with a grin.
She knows she won't be able to pay for this room for another fourteen days, Friday is just three days away. There is no chance she will be able to come up with the money to keep her safe.
"Have a good night, Regina."
She slumps against the door as Jefferson stumbles away, watching him the entire walk down to his office, not quite trusting that he won't turn around and demand more. The second his office door clicks shut she scrambles into her own room, trembling wildly as she locks the door, bolts it shut and falls to the ground in tears. Thank God he was too drunk to keep going, but the small stroke of luck does nothing to quell the anguish that floods through her.
Dirty. She feels so utterly dirty. Blouse open, sticky saliva coating her skin, the itch of his unkempt stubble that burned across her neck. Pain cracks at her wrists, bruises starting to form around the raw redness of his fingertip grip. Inhaling sharply, she leans against the door, curling her legs into her chest as she cries. Unstoppable tears that puddle and pour out.
Everything inside her cracks, ripping open at the already fragile seams. An anguish that rolls, bubbles and spins out of control. Her breath runs ragged, her lungs burning in need. She can't control it though, she can't do anything but let her heart scream, her brain exhaust itself from guilt that she let this happen to her again, that there is nothing she can do to stop it from continuing.
Shame. She feels nothing but horrible, awful shame.
Instead of fighting, she let a man put his hands on her. Barely fought out of fear and let him take what he wanted. She should be stronger than this, should have more fight inside her, some self respect to do something, anything other than just go stone frozen and let her body be touched unwantedly.
Mother would be so disappointed in her.
Her phone buzzes and she jolts straight at the sound. Her heart is pounding as she wipes away her tears shakily, her throat dry and course from crying.
Clicking the screen she dissolves into a puddle.
RL: Evening M'lady. Just wanted to see if your day turned around at all?
She swallows, leaning heavily against the wooden door. How it's possible that Robin is always there, a ray of happiness in a world that shrouds her in darkness, she will never know. Sniffing, she stares down at his message. He would be so appalled if he truly knew everything about her. Her life is a complete mess, she is a complete mess.
RL: Roland and I are beyond excited to host you for dinner tomorrow.
She smiles sadly through the hot burn of fresh tears. In all honesty, she had nearly forgotten that she accepted his invite yesterday. A slip of the mind she is silently grateful for. Not that she can let on just how desperately alone she feels right now, and just how much a night with the two of them is exactly what she needs right now. But letting the overwhelming hopelessness that grips her heart tightly isn't something she is sure she is willing to let Robin become aware of. He is too good, too sweet and kind to be swallowed by misery she feels stuck in.
RL: I do hope burgers are alright with you?
Sighing, she finds whatever fraction of motivation she has to write him back.
RM: Burgers are great. Can I bring anything?
The second she hits send, she cringes. It's not like she can afford to bring a bottle of wine, or rather anything. Offering and being unable to deliver is going to be completely mortifying.
RL: Not at all. Just your lovely self is more than enough.
She chuckles wetly at his charm.
RL: I won't keep you up. Good night, M'lady.
RM: Good night, Robin.
Quietly she shuts her phone off and stands, walking over to the shower. The mirror catches her eyes and Regina's heart fractures. She looks horrible. Disheveled and completely wrecked what with her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. Turning away from her reflection, she reaches for the shower tap, hoping that it will wash off the grime of both Jefferson and Sidney.
Shucking off her clothes, Regina breathes a heavy sigh as the hot water hits her bare skin. It smells stale but it is as good as it is going to get until she can get out of here. To think that potentially, at some point in the future, she will have a shower that feels fresh is a comforting thought. That besides the small bottle of shampoo, she could one day be able to afford conditioner, give her hair some softness once more. It's an image she clings to as her forehead falls to the cold tiles.
How nice conditioner and a fragrant body soap is going to be.
She is getting out of this place. She has to. With her monthly salary there is a chance that in two or three months she could maybe start looking at other options, perhaps a small studio apartment somewhere. A place she can truly call her own, a safe comfort for her to come home to.
Tomorrow will be better. It has to be. She gets to see Robin and Roland, that has to count for a bit of happiness, doesn't it?
She certainly likes to think so.
TBC