CHAPTER TWELVE
Spencer was angry. No. Beyond angry – infuriated. Enraged. Contemptuous.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
She had never been one to make rash decisions. Everybody in her life – bar, perhaps, her family – had always trusted her judgment. Why now, when her choice was simply not the "popular" option, was it suddenly everyone else's business?
Holmes, especially. She had adored Holmes upon first meeting him. And truthfully, beneath the anger and resentment, she knew she still did. Something about his demeanor was both comforting and welcoming, and he had helped her fit right in. However, the way in which he had meddled with her affairs made her hate him for the moment. How dare someone who was almost a complete stranger tell her what to do?
Didn't anybody understand that the more people told her not to do something, the more likely she'd be to do it? Hadn't Hanna, of all people, learned that about her over the years? Hadn't she witnessed all the times Spencer purposefully rebelled against her parents' wishes in order to prove a point?
She noticed that her fury had been causing her to quicken pace. Her calves were seizing up from balancing on her stilettos, warning her to slow down. As she tried, she exhaled heavily several times to calm her anxiety.
Her phone began to buzz in her purse. She seriously considered not bothering to look at it at all, assuming it was someone calling to yell at her once more. However, as she conceded to check, she found that it was someone she knew would alleviate some of her stress.
"Hey, Em," she breathed in relief as she answered the call.
"Hey, everything okay?" Emily inquired from the other end. Just like Emily to know when Spencer was feeling dismayed.
"We haven't had a chance to catch up in weeks, and you immediately assume something's wrong?" Spencer chuckled.
"Spence," Emily berated maternally. "Come on."
Damn that Emily.
Spencer sighed heavily in resignation. "Fine. I ran into Toby."
"You what?" Emily demanded. "How is he? What's he doing there?"
"He's fine, I guess," Spencer muttered. "He's living here now."
"And?" Emily pressed.
"And – we tried to pick up where we left off. It didn't work out."
Spencer's cryptic explanation resulted in a pregnant silence on the other end.
"Spencer," Emily began slowly. "I won't press you for details. But whatever happened…you need to remember all the things he'd give up for you. I know that you guys can make it work."
Spencer pulled a face of distaste. Emily always had a way of putting things into perspective, even when Spencer didn't want to hear it. "I don't know, Em," she insisted. "I think our lives are just too different now."
"You didn't see him at the Grille the day he left," Emily continued. "I've never seen him so torn up about anything. He'd walk to the end of the earth for you. Give him that chance."
Spencer sighed, wanting to believe Emily's words of wisdom.
"Yeah, maybe," she negotiated at last as she approached Starbucks. "Listen, Em, I gotta go. Call me tomorrow?"
"Sure," Emily agreed. "Listen, Spence – let your heart do some of the thinking this time. Give your brain a break. I think you'll find it opens a lot of doors." And with that, the click on the other end signified the end of the conversation.
Spencer considered this last piece of advice, turning over the implications of it in her brain. Emily was right about one thing – Spencer had always had a difficult time letting her heart in on the decision-making. But one thing was for sure – her head was far more logical when it came to making sensitive choices.
"Well, this is it," she muttered to herself as she stood in front of the building. Try as she might, she was having a difficult time shaking all of the warnings she had received today. But she was a grown woman – she could make her own choices. And she could trust her own judgment.
She took a deep breath and opened the front door.
When Cody emerged from the bathroom, he couldn't help but submit to the spring in his step. It was turning out to be a good day, indeed. He had a date with a hot girl, and was simultaneously putting Cavanaugh in his place. Though Cody and Toby had been friends for a long time, Cody couldn't help but resent Toby for his undeniable arrogance. Toby had always been the favorite, wherever they went. Any girl that Cody wanted to date always wanted Toby instead. Any time Cody tried for a promotion, Toby got one effortlessly. If Cody was pissed about anything Toby did, he was immediately ignored when everyone took Toby's side. The dynamic had grown exhausting, to tell the truth. And he looked forward to knocking him down a peg.
He found Lancaster precisely where he had left him, pouting on the couch. The Xbox game remained paused and Lancaster was looking particularly broody.
"Dude, stop moping," Cody muttered impatiently as he made his way to the kitchen for a beer. "Cavanaugh is a big boy. He'll get over it."
"Holmes heard you," Lancaster stated blatantly. Cody stopped dead in his tracks, turning this over in his brain.
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, turning to face Lancaster's figure.
Lancaster was staring at the wall, refusing to meet his eyes. "He was here the entire time."
"Shit," Cody grumbled, running his hand through his hair in agitation. "I suppose the trusty little Golden Retriever ran off to cry about it to Cavanaugh?"
Lancaster laughed, but this action was devoid of any mirth. He was evidently quite bitter. "You don't get it, do you?" he demanded, suddenly standing to face Cody. "You're a dick, man. You have no respect for anyone else. You never have."
"Save me the sob story," Cody commanded, rolling his eyes in response. He pulled open the fridge to retrieve a Budweiser before returning to the living room. "It's every man for himself, dude."
"Have you even paid attention to the last two years we've spent in the army?" Lancaster said, flabbergasted. "We protect our own."
"And I will protect my own," Cody chuckled, making a crude gesture towards his groin. Lancaster rolled his eyes distastefully.
"Whatever, dude. You're hopeless. And I'm done saving your ass." With that, Lancaster tossed the controller angrily onto the floor before storming up the stairs to his room.
Cody shook his head indignantly. Just like Lancaster to act like a melodramatic little child when things didn't go his way.
However…with Holmes running off to cry wolf, Cavanaugh would surely ruin the entire evening. Cody groaned inwardly at the thought, hoping they'd mind their own business. Damn them.
As if on cue, the garage door swung open. Cody turned abruptly, just in time to meet a fist in the nose. He collapsed to the ground from the impact, feeling his eyes involuntarily beginning to water from the blow to his nasal cavity.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, staring up at Toby incredulously.
"I could ask you the same question," Toby quipped, dropping to the ground to grab Cody by the collar of his shirt. "How many times have I told you to back off?"
"Not enough, apparently," Cody replied darkly. Toby used his grip on Cody to slam his head back to the tile floor.
"I'm not playing games, man," Toby insisted. "You call this shit off, or I will kill you with my bare hands."
"Fine, fine!" Cody conceded. "I'll call her right now."
Toby roughly released his grip, his eyes still flashing dangerously. "Do it."
Cody clumsily raised himself to his feet, dialing a number entirely different from the one he had promised. He pressed the speaker phone button as the dial tone reverberated throughout the kitchen.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"Domestic disturbance," Cody declared, cocking a daring eyebrow in Toby's direction. When Toby tried to leap at him, Cody grabbed him by the neck and forced him to the ground.
"What is your location?"
"8500 Washtenaw." Toby struggled to release himself from Cody's hold, but found that the grip on his throat was causing him to begin losing consciousness.
"We'll be right over."
Cody folded his phone back up carelessly, looking down at Toby with a dangerous glint in his pale green eyes.
"I told you the next time you fucked with me I'd make you regret it," Cody stated definitively, blood still gushing from the wound in his nose. He turned Toby's face to the tile and slammed his face into the floor – hard. Toby saw spots and fought to stay conscious.
Cody lowered his mouth close to Toby's ear, smirking as he spoke. "I am going to fuck that little bitch so hard, she won't know what hit her."
The surge of raging adrenaline kicked back in. Toby was seeing red now, and felt as though his heart was going to pound out of his chest. With his newfound strength, he launched his right elbow into Cody's temple, sending him moaning to the floor. Within seconds, Toby was on top of him, his fist making repeated contact with Cody's face.
"Stop, dude!" Cody cried. "I was kidding! I'm kidding! I'll call her for real!"
Toby grabbed him violently by the hair. "Shut the hell up!" he commanded, slamming his head into the nearby cabinet. He heard sirens approaching, but was well aware that he no longer cared.
"She must be good in the sack, if you're this protective over her," Cody snarled. Toby effortlessly lifted Cody up from the ground and roughly pushed him up against the wall. Cody groaned in pain.
"I told you to shut the hell up!" Toby repeated, slamming Cody's back against the plaster once more. He found himself suddenly grateful that he didn't care firearms at all times, for in his rage, he would have surely been exercising this second amendment right.
"Police! Put your hands where we can see them!"
Cody flicked his eyebrows mischievously, sending Toby one last meaningful smirk.
Toby's blood ran cold. He did it on purpose. He pushed his buttons on purpose, so that by the time the police arrived, Toby would be the primary assailant.
"You asshole," he breathed as the police pulled his hands behind his back to be cuffed.
"I'll take good care of her. Don't worry," Cody said in low tones, so that only Toby could hear.
"She's not in there," Hanna cried as she emerged from the coffee shop, looking particularly harried in frustration. "Neither of them are."
"Where the hell would they have gone?" Holmes demanded, rubbing his forehead. "I'll bet Cody found out we knew, and took her somewhere else."
Hanna looked scandalized. "Somewhere else? What do you mean? Like where?"
"I don't know," Holmes said exasperatedly. "Do I look like the expert? I have no idea."
Hanna drew back in slight, making a disapproving face at his tone of voice.
Holmes's phone began to ring. He desperately dug into his pocket to retrieve it.
"Who is it?" Hanna demanded.
"Don't know," he muttered, staring at the unknown number. He answered it anyway. "Hello?"
"Holmes?"
"Cavanaugh," Holmes stated roughly. "Where the hell are you?"
"There's a bit of a problem," Toby mumbled from the other end.
"Problem? What kind of problem?" Holmes looked to Hanna, who had panic written all over her face.
"I'm uh…I'm kind of in jail."
Holmes slowly exhaled to control his temper, unable to suppress the growl that came in tandem.
"What the hell does that mean, Cavanaugh?"
"I'll explain later," Toby insisted. "I have to go. Just go make sure Cody doesn't do anything stupid." With that, Holmes was met with a dial tone.
"What? What's wrong?" Hanna pressed impatiently.
"Son-of-a-bitch got himself arrested," Holmes quipped. Hanna blanched in response.
"Well, we have to go get him."
"What about Cody?" Holmes demanded. "We shouldn't leave Spencer alone with him. When the jackass wants something, he'll go to any lengths to get it."
"We need Toby's help," Hanna reasoned. "It's the only way."
Holmes took a deep breath. "Fine. Let's go get him."
The trek to the Ann Arbor police station felt like years, though in reality it had taken less than ten minutes to make the trip from Starbucks. Hanna was impatiently tapping her long fingernails on the metal countertop, waiting for someone to come out and assist.
"Please stop that," Holmes grumbled irritably.
She turned to face him. "Someone's grouchy."
"Don't test me, Blondie," Holmes challenged, though he was only half-joking.
At last, a female officer emerged into the contained area of the front desk. A large wall of bullet-proof glass separated visitors from staff, a mere microphone allowing them to communicate. There was also a small opening at the bottom of the window, presumably for monetary exchange.
"We're here for Toby Cavanaugh," Holmes stated. Hanna was practically breathing down his neck to get a good look over the counter.
"Cavanaugh…Cavanaugh…" the officer recited to herself as she began rifling through the files on her desk. "Here it is. Toby Cavanaugh. Bail is a hundred."
"A hundred dollars?" Hanna practically shrieked. "What kind of business are you running here?"
The officer stared at her, deadpan. Holmes purposefully pinched Hanna's arm, to which she cried out an indignant, "ouch!"
"One hundred dollars," the officer repeated, choosing to ignore Hanna's previous jibe.
Hanna rolled her eyes and began rummaging through her purse. She extracted her wallet and thumbed through it disdainfully.
"Would you accept a Macy's gift card?"
The officer raised an eyebrow, evidently not amused.
"What?" Hanna demanded. "It's five hundred dollars! You're making out with a profit here."
"Hanna," Holmes began warningly.
"Buy yourself something nice to wear," Hanna insisted to the female officer, ignoring Holmes's attempt to intervene.
"Excuse us," Holmes declared with his best attempt at a charming smile. He took Hanna by the elbow and led her around the corner.
"What are you doing?" she said irritably.
"Hanna, you're not helping," Holmes muttered through gritted teeth, continuing to force a smile for the sake of the officer watching from the glass window. "Do you have cash or not?"
Hanna scoffed defensively. "Fine, yeah," she agreed, showing no signs of keeping her grumpiness at bay.
"I have fifty on me," Holmes quipped. "Anything you got to help would be fantastic."
Hanna nodded impatiently as she began to dig around at the bottom of her purse. As the seconds lapsed, Holmes began to involuntarily tap his foot. Hanna stopped to send him a warning glare.
"Well, we don't have all day," Holmes defended. Hanna rolled her eyes and continued rummaging.
"Here." She unearthed a very crumpled ten dollar bill as well as two sad-looking twenties. Without taking time to complain about the condition the money was in, Holmes returned to the window.
"Hundred dollars," he muttered, sliding it through the opening. The officer studied them both carefully, as if deciding whether she even wanted to continue to help them. But then, at long last, she disappeared through the staff door.
"A Macy's gift card? Seriously?" Holmes grumbled under his breath. Hanna narrowed her eyes.
"She could have used it. Trust me."
"Not the time, or place to be giving fashion advice," Holmes countered.
"It's called making a deal," Hanna insisted. "You try to talk the seller down."
Holmes couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared at her, baffled. "This isn't the mall."
"Everyone loves gift cards." Hanna flipped her hair, a hint of arrogance in her body language.
"Not exactly negotiable currency, Hanna."
"Shut up."
The heavy metal door began to swing open. Toby was being escorted into the lobby, where the shiner on his eye glimmered in the fluorescent lighting.
"Don't let us catch you in here again, Specialist Cavanaugh. Next time, we report your charges to the military," the officer warned as he disappeared back through the doorway.
"Toby," Hanna breathed maternally, instinctively reaching out to touch his black eye. Toby flinched away from her involuntarily.
"I'm fine."
"Well, obviously you're not," Holmes quipped, feeling less generous than Hanna. "You did a stupid thing, Cavanaugh. I warned you not to go after Cody without me."
"What was I supposed to do, Holmes?" Toby growled. "You had some dumbass plan about waiting around – I couldn't put Spencer at that kind of risk."
"Yeah, well, my dumbass plan of waiting around probably involved less time wasting than this little adventure," Holmes countered.
"Guys – stop it," Hanna pleaded. "This isn't helping anything. We still have to go find Spencer."
Toby caressed the bruise forming on his eye, looking confused. "Didn't they go to the reading?"
"No," Holmes answered. "We couldn't find them."
Toby chewed the inside of his cheek impatiently, thinking. "Where would they have gone?"
"We don't know," Hanna murmured.
"Well, we won't figure anything out by standing around," Toby insisted, massaging the handcuff imprints on his wrist. "We need to get going."
TO BE CONTINUED