Hopper dashed into the house, his heart pounding in his chest. His anxiety gnawed at him, and it would only go away once his daughter was safe. That was the only thing that mattered. Later, he would consider how to put an end to the nightmare that threatened to return to their lives.
As silence welcomed him, a lump formed in his throat. There were no cartoons on TV, no eggos smell, and no loud music emanating from her room.
"Jane?" He called her, convinced that she should be there today.
They had reached an agreement. He'd never minded her going out with her friends. After all, he didn't spend as much time as he'd like with her, and it wasn't fair that she didn't have a social life. But in exchange, he had to know where she was at all times. Every time. There will be no excuses.
His boot stepped on several papers scattered across the room's floor. What the hell is going on? It was an old file of his. It couldn't be true. No one had touched those papers in years, and Jane had no idea they were there. A drop of cold sweat rolled down his brow. He quickly wiped it away. Why was he sweating? Oh, God... Was he late or...? His hand instinctively rested on the butt of his revolver, ready to draw it.
"Don't," a voice from behind him said.
When he turned to face Joyce, a gun barrel was pointed mercilessly at him. Oh, great. He'd fallen victim to a full-fledged ambush as a rookie! His pulse quickened, his blood boiling inside him as he raged against the world and himself. He had only one bloody priority! ONE! And he had failed! After everything he'd done, everything he'd sacrificed... That simply cannot be! Oh, screw her! It made no difference if a gun was pointed at his stupid head!
"You have exactly ten seconds to tell me where my daughter is." As he took a step forward, his voice was deep and tense.
Joyce nervously licked her lips as she watched him approach. "Don't get any closer!" she warned, readjusting her fingers to the gun in the most threatening manner she could muster.
"If you're going to shoot, do it now or you'll never get another chance!" He was pretty hell-bent.
The weapon suddenly felt very heavy. Joyce had always used it to threaten people, but she had never shot anyone. It was only a matter of time before that day arrived, but the idea of having to shoot him made a lump form in her throat.
"Stop! I don't want to hurt you! You shouldn't be here at all!"
In disbelief, he snorted. "This is my house!"
"I'll shoot if you keep getting closer!" Fearful, she warned him. Hopper was almost there.
"Then go ahead and do it!" He screamed.
Joyce's survival instinct kicked in when they were barely a meter apart. The sound of a detonation echoed throughout the room. He came to a halt, startled, while his eardrums continued to ring.
In her trembling hands, the gun smoked. Joyce couldn't believe what she had just done. Hopper's hat had a hole in it when it landed on the ground.
"That was a warning!" She spoke up. "I... I don't want to kill you, please." She admitted, concerned.
Uncomfortably, his Adam's apple moved. Had she missed, or was her aim that good? He'd only seen that done in westerns, despite being a cop.
"You'll never find the stupid encrypted cylinder if you kill me."
Joyce's jaw fell open. If he knows about the cylinder, he also knows she worked for 'The Snakes'. The same bastards who murdered his wife. Her surprise turned to fear.
"Yeah..." Hopper said, as if he could read her mind.
"What?"
It was the perfect distraction for him to spring on her. Her back slammed into the wall. She tried to wiggle away from him, but he grabbed her wrist tightly and slammed it against the wall, releasing the weapon as her sore knuckles gave way.
Everything happened in a flash. Joyce attempted to strike him. At least, that's what she thought before collapsing. Her lips moaned in agony as she realized he'd pounced on her, pinning her wrists on either side of her head.
"Let me go!" Her body attempted but failed to escape. It was impossible; that guy was big and reckless, and reaching a weapon was impossible this time. She was panting from the exertion as their gazes locked.
"This is the last time I ask politely." His pale blue orbs had darkened with rage and impatience. "What have you done with my kid?"
It was a reasonable request. Joyce was well aware of it, but she couldn't help but be offended. She also needed to save her son!
"If you wanna know. Tell me where the cylinder is first."
"You have no right to ask for anything." His stare was menacing.
"We're at a stalemate." She growled at him, attempting to appear tough. "Men like you don't know how to play chess, but... I have something you want, and you have something I want. If neither of us gives in, we're not going anywhere."
"Men like him? What did she know about him?!" Hopper pondered. He didn't have much patience, and it was running out fast. Much more if her daughter's life was at stake!
"There is no time for games! You haven't gotten it! Screw the cylinder! I'll explain it another way!"
He clasped her wrists above her head, and despite her attempts to break free, he held both wrists with one hand.
She widened her eyes. "What are you doing?!" She exclaimed, startled, and beginning to panic as his other hand closed around her neck. Her anguish sent shivers down her spine. It couldn't possibly be serious. Wasn't it a bluff?
His voice, cold and hushed, told her otherwise. "It's game over." His palm's heat seemed to sear her, his fingers' pressure on her pulse point just heavy enough to tense her entire body. "All I have to do is squeeze."
Her breathing was a series of panicked, rapid pants of overwhelmed anxiety. "No, you cannot." She paused, attempting to conceal her terror. "You're a cop. You have rules, don't you?"
Her heartbeats beat faster and faster against his fingertips.
His pupils constricted. "Do you want to test it?" His thumb skimmed down her long throat, moving down at a slow pace, feeling her rapid breathing under it, clearly meant to threaten.
Joyce had underestimated him. She assumed he was a good man who would never do something like that. But he was also a desperate father whose only family had just been taken away from him. Someone with nothing to lose can do anything.
"Hopper..." Joyce trembled in the face of his ferocious gaze.
She thought it was all over, but then he just broke out. "She's just a little kid, dammit!" he screamed angrily. "If Brenner wants me, here I am! But don't even think about touching her!" His eyes closed as he forced himself to look away, desperate, enraged, and terrified.
Hers had been opened by his raw, bloody, excruciating pain. After all, they were just chess pawns on the board; both were victims of the same man, Dr. Brenner. Murray had once told her that there was an old proverb: 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Perhaps he was correct.
"Do you think I don't understand how you feel?" She was moved by his determination to protect his daughter and let herself go. "When your child is taken from you, the pain is worse than a bullet. Perhaps that's why you didn't mind if I shot you." Her tone was barely above a whisper. "Not knowing if he will be fine or if you'll see him again. Feel him in your arms, protect him, wipe his tears, and tell him that everything will be fine."
They didn't say anything for a moment, but she could feel his rage fading. "I understand how you feel, Hopper."
Instead of being frightened or uncomfortable, she relaxed under his touch. His fingers soon softened, almost caressing her skin. Small gestures that seemed to say a thousand words. He's not going to hurt her like that. Her lungs expelled a breath she'd been holding for a long time.
When his blue eyes opened again, they were sad, with no trace of his previous fire. "Just... tell me the truth. Is Jane still alive?"
He was already broken, and his weakness had been revealed. She could pump him for information about the cylinder. It was simple! But his eyes were piercing her, relentlessly. They bore into her with a hopeless and agonizing stare that almost hurt her skin. Those pretty blue eyes. She couldn't stand it any longer.
"Your daughter is all right. We just wanted the house to be empty so we could look for the trophy. We're going to get her back before you got here, I swear." She admitted, defeated. "The plan was to take the cylinder and flee Hawkins; by the time you realized it, we'd be far away. We had no intention of involving you."
She waited for a response, but it never came. That silence frightened her in those circumstances. "It's true. You must believe me!" The thought of being exposed to him started to overwhelm her. Perhaps that was reckless. What if Hopper wasn't convinced? What if he thought she was telling him what he wanted to hear in order for him to let her go? Why was she thinking so much about things?!
After what seemed like an eternity, his fingers slid, tracing her pulse point. Gently and leisurely, until they reached her collarbone. "Ok. I believe you."
Though she smiled briefly, doubts arose. "Why?"
"Because I was a fucking police inspector who had a lot of experience with interrogations and knows how a fucking lie detector works. It checks the fluctuations and monitors the pulse while the suspect answers questions. I did the same thing with you, taking your pulse." He could have told her that, but he didn't want to appear insane.
"Police intuition?" He finished his sentence by staring at her neck like a hungry wolf.
"What will you do with me?"
Hopper exhaled tiredly, and to her surprise, he stood up and released her. Joyce, still motionless, followed him with her gaze.
She swallowed as he bent down to pick up her gun. He left the house after removing the magazine from it and leaving it unloaded on a nearby table. Absolute silence.
She went out onto the porch after taking a few moments to recompose herself. Hopper sat quietly smoking on a bench near the door, his gaze contemplative. Joyce considered fleeing. But, what was the point? He still had the stupid cylinder, so she sat down on the bench, keeping a safe distance between them. Before speaking, she cleared her throat. It would be an understatement to say she was uneasy.
"Are you not going to say something?"
He reclined on the bench. "I was interested to see what you would do. I assumed you'd try to flee." He stated as smoke billowed from his lungs.
"I have considered it," she admitted. "But I knew I wouldn't get very far."
He nodded and took another drag. "What's his name? Your kid?"
Joyce lowered her head and clasped her hands together. "Will…" She finally turned to face him. He hadn't even bothered to look at her. She assumed she deserved his rage and resentment.
"What happened to Will?"
Her lips were sealed shut. Joyce desperately wanted to tell him, to share her burden with someone. Perhaps Hopper was the only person who understood how she felt, what it was like to lose your only family. But it was a bad idea. What would she say to him? He'd mentioned Brenner, which was a bad sign. Brenner was the man who was ruining her life. And based on what she had read in the newspaper, he was most likely the same man who had destroyed Hopper's life... Seven years before. It was unfair to reopen old wounds.
Her head shook. "The less you know about it, the better."
"Don't you think it's too late for that?"
"I wish you weren't a cop," she grumbled, attempting to change the subject. "We would have gotten along fine."
Hopper chuckled, a little taken aback. It was absurd that someone he should hate so much could be so fascinating. He put out the butt in a nearby ashtray. The truce was about to come to an end.
"Joyce," Hearing her name for the first time on his lips was strange, even though it sounded good. "I need to know where my daughter is."
"I'd like to tell you," Joyce had already given up enough. "But, doing so... I won't be able to finish my job if I sell my partner and get arrested. Will…"
"Joyce," It was disheartening how he could get past her defenses simply by saying her name. "I'm not asking as a cop, but as a father. If you say you understand me, you'll realize I don't care who you are right now. All I want is Jane back."
The pain in his voice was shattering her. She nodded, slightly frustrated. "It's not far from Hawkins. I can guide you there."
What?! If she thought she'd go with him, she was insane! To an unknown location? Like a good little lamb in a lion's den?
"I go. Where exactly?"
She took a step in front of him, startled. "What? No! I'll go with you."
If he thought she was giving him the full address so he could go alone, he was insane! He could call in reinforcements along the way and arrest them on the spot!
Hopper sighed and rolled his eyes. "You don't trust me, and I don't trust you. Great. So, if you're not going to help me, get out of my way."
Joyce couldn't believe how incredibly rude he was. She was teaming up! "I'm not going to let you go alone!"
He was about to reprimand her when she cut him off. "Who do you believe you are? I can't put my trust in you!"
"And I'm supposed to do it?" He laughed in surprise. "You kidnapped my daughter, broke into my house, and shot me!"
Offended, her mouth dropped open. "That's not true! I only fired a warning shot at your hat!"
"What?! You might've killed me!"
"Of course not! I'm not sure about you, but I have good aim!"
"Oh, Mrs. Eastwood, I'm sorry..." He sneered.
"Oh, God. You are unbearable!" She yelled at him, frustrated. It was like being on a roller coaster when she was talking to him. They went slowly at times, and they fell without brakes at others!
"Yeah, but either you move or I'll move you." He was becoming frustrated with this pointless conversation.
"No!" She couldn't believe how arrogant he was becoming.
"No?"
When his hand reached up to push her away, she slapped it away. "What do you think will happen if you show up as a cowboy there? Murray will be defensive because he'll believe you've arrested me. He's going to shoot you! For real!"
Hopper narrowed his eyes. "If I don't first kill him."
Joyce shook her head, astounded by his obstinacy. "For the first time in your life... Can you think for a moment?"
"What?!"
He raised his index finger to retort, but she cut him off again. "Your daughter will be there, and you're talking about blood! Can we, as civilized people, solve this? For a change?"
He immediately closed his mouth and retracted his finger into his fist, irritated, but speechless.
She snorted angrily. "Look. Ok. You don't trust me. Great. Umm, what if I drive? I'd be preoccupied, you could keep an eye on me, and I'm also unarmed, ok? You have your weapon with you. You have the upper hand. Is that all right with you? Come on, all I ask is a little trust."
Her hand was extended toward him. His jaw clenched as he swallowed. A bit of trust... Seriously? Were they talking about that?
"If you try something suspicious,"
She grumbled. "Yeah-yeah..."
Hopper slid the car keys into her palm, still perplexed that he had agreed to such a ridiculous deal.
To be Continued.