Chapter 28:

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Both men panted, facing each other with singe and dirt marks on their cheeks. Both Wayne and James took a moment to catch their breath in a small clearing in the Marblehead Woods, their chosen combat zone for the epic battle between them. Their hands were lit with blueish energy, the trees behind them steaming from old blasts, craters were formed in the earth around their feet. This fight had waged for what seemed like forever, both friends now enemies, determined to rip one another apart. Glenn sat afar off, watching from the protection of the car. Since both brawling brothers were worn out by now, they resorted to a war of words.

"Just give up!" James gasped as they circled one another, like dogs waiting for the first excuse to lunge. "Beatrice doesn't deserve this! She's gone through enough, with her mother leaving and her father the abusive drunk that he is! She doesn't deserve someone to give her any more heartache!"

"She was my girl first, Jimmy!" Wayne yelled back so fiercely that spit escaped his lips. "GOD! The nerve of you for even crushing on her to BEGIN with!"

"You're MARRIED, WAYNE!" James shouted. "Not to mention you're a chain smoker, a blazing drunk, and for Pete's sake, you can't go a week without screwing a different girl!"

Wayne stood up taller, speechless and offended at the truth James spoke.

"That's SO not…" Wayne furrowed his brow. "Entirely true…"

"You even admit it yourself!"

"That's not the point, Jim! The point is, I've been chasing Bee for the better half of my life, and you have NO right to--"

"To what?" James challenged. "To marry the woman I love? That loves me? I can give her security, be faithful to her, which is more than you can say for yourself."

"I'd do it for her," Wayne stated boldly.

"Oh, yeah?" James scoffed. "Tell me, Wayne, in this whole time of your supposed 'vow of solvency', can you honestly say you didn't sleep with a single other woman?"

Wayne scowled and said nothing.

"How long did you get?" James taunted. "A week? A day? And who was it that did you in? Desiree, Jezebel, or the whole damn cheerleading squad?"

Wayne shook his head and looked away, glaring at the tree to his left like it was the most hated thing on this earth. Jimmy knew he wouldn't dare argue.

"You can't help it, Wayne," James went on in a low, compassionate voice. "It's who you are. I know that. Bee knows that. Which is why you have to step down."

Silence overtook the forest, with only the rustling of the tree leaves to break the utter quiet. Glenn got out of the car to get a better view, curious as to what was going to happen next. Finally, at long last, Wayne sighed.

"Alright," he complied, throwing his hands at him. "Fine, you whiny dope, take her."

James was taken aback.

"You're serious?"

"Yes, dammit!" Wayne yelled. "Go on, get out of here before I change my mind!"

James was shocked, but took several slow steps backward.

"Thanks, Wayne," James said quickly, heading for his car with light steps. "Seriously-- thank you."

"GO!" Wayne shouted even louder, picking up a stick and flinging it in James's direction. "For God's sakes, if I have to do a stinkin' good deed, at least have the sense to let me DO it! GO!"

With that, James escaped into his car with Glenn, closing the door quickly after himself and starting up the engine.

Glenn glanced at Wayne with worry. Wayne was currently standing still, his back to them and his head to the sky.

"Is he going to be okay?" Glenn asked with concern.

James frowned, and answered honestly.

"I really don't know."

-

Joe wandered the streets of New York, fresh off the train, looking through maps and asking directions, until he finally flagged down a useful taxi driver that knew where Arrow Street was.

The place was in an empty part of town, which struck Joe funny for being as busy as New York was renowned to be. A small apartment complex that was sandwiched between more apartment complexes is where he found the address of 202.

He stared up at the numbers on the door, just above the doorbell. Rows of mailboxes were in a line, one of them bearing the name 'Sinclair' in a small slot, her printing on a tiny square of paper fitted into it. Delilah Sinclair. He could hardly contain the bubbling emotions inside of him as he buzzed her number. As he waited for her to answer, he noticed that her mailbox was full of faded letters, probably forgotten. He took them out to deliver them himself and save her the trouble. He couldn't help but see the one on top, written in pen. It had his name on it.

-

Delilah exited from the back room of the pulsating nightclub, heading straight for the bathroom like she usually did between clients. She always made a point to wash after each round: if nothing else, at least her hands. She let her shaking fingers run under the cold water. She had forgotten what being touched like that felt like, and it would take her a while to get used to it again. It would take her a few more days to make her mind go numb to that kind of indiscretion.

She hated her job; it disgusted her that she had to leave Joe for this hellhole once more, a damned place that she had vowed never to return to. She wished she didn't have to lie to Joe about heading off to New York to be in acting school.

School, yeah, sure, wouldn't that be nice? Like that miracle would ever happen.

But any place was better than watching him marry another woman, in that horrid small town with her wretched dominatrix job. At least here she was high-class stuff, treated like a queen, getting money thrown at her by the thousands for even an hour of her company. Sex was not even in the equation, unless the high rollers were willing to cough up another few grand, and for money like that, who wouldn't accept?

A few weeks time would be all she needed to pay off her debt that she had ran to Ipswich to escape in the first place. Then she could move on with her life, get a real job, a respectable job, like a normal person. She could finish those last few months of high school, then start saving to move to a better part of town than the ghetto she was calling home now. A few weeks… then she could move on with her life.

Delilah wiped her wet hands on the white towel, and reapplied her red lipstick. She straightened her strapless top higher over her broad chest, and smoothed out the full, knee length skirt. Time to return to work.

"Alright, Ron," she said with a smile only skin deep, tracing her finger along the counter as she observed the exotic dancers entertaining the walk-ins. "Who's next on my list tonight?"

"You got a high roller tonight, so I bumped him up next," Ron replied, looking over his computer as he smoothed back his greasing hair.

Delilah groaned. Another long washing session in the bathroom laid ahead of her for sure. As much as she loved getting paid tons of money, the piece of her soul that she would have to give up to get that money hardly seemed a fair trade. She hated those rare nights that required intercourse.

"Don't give me faces, he's already here waiting," Ron scolded. "Requested you specifically too. Bought the rest of your night; put a good dent off your debt. You'd better show him the time of his life."

Delilah sighed, and tried to ready her mind for what task was now put before her. She grabbed Ron's glass of liquor.

"Name?" she asked before she took a sip.

"Oh, uh…" Ron glanced at his monitor screen again. "A Mr.… Garwin."

Delilah sprayed out all the liquid contents of her mouth.

"What's the matter with you?" Ron demanded, but she wasn't listening anymore. She was combing through the sophisticated party, trying to see over the crowd of men and women for that wonderful face.

Then, she spotted him. He was the only one with his back to the stage show, facing the door instead of the dancers and waiting patiently. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulder leaned against the wall. A familiar stance she could spot a mile away.

Like an internal instinct, he turned around and their eyes met. A moment later she was before him, smiling like an idiot. She wouldn't dare kiss him in front of the crowd, lest she raise suspicions among former clients, but her loving smile told enough. She slid her hand in his and led him out the door, soon running out into the rainy night as far away as they could before they couldn't stand to keep their lips apart any longer.

She wouldn't need to wash her hands after him; that was for certain. It was a blissful thought.

-

The night was perfect. A cloudless night, shining with every star it could boast, the moon glowing in all its glory. A candlelit dinner at an excellent restaurant by a river. James had it all planned. Earlier, he had anchored a lily pad in the river, and put the open ring box upon it, so that when they walked over the park bridge over the river, there he would point. He had Gorman watch it for him, to make sure it wasn't stolen before he and Beatrice got there. It was perfect. As Beatrice and him took a walk after dinner like they usually did, a casual stroll through the park. James could hardly contain his excitement as they made their way down the winding path, Beatrice stopping to inspect every flower on the way there.

"What are you so anxious for?" Beatrice asked as James hurried her along some more. James shrugged.

"Oh, I'm just enjoying your company."

As they neared the bridge, James stopped breathing altogether. The large arched bridge had always been Beatrice's favorite, and they took their time climbing it. James immediately looked around for Gorman, and was glad that he was keeping out of sight like he had told him.

That's when things went south.

The good news was, James spotted Gorman. The bad news, Gorman was desperately trying to flag down an oncoming motorboat.

James gasped, and let out an: "Oh, no!" with Beatrice now utterly confused. There was no time to stop the boat; it was coming in too fast. In a last, most desperate act, James yanked off his dinner jacket, leaped on top of the railing of the bridge, and jumped into the water, Beatrice yelling in confusion all the while.

"Jimmy!"

James didn't rescue the ring in time. The boat passed, knocking it off its lily pad floatation, and into the river. James had to dive under, and managed to save the ring, while the ring box was left to its sinking fate. He surfaced quickly, pulling himself to the riverbank until his feet touched ground.

"James William Danvers!" Beatrice yelled over the railing of the bridge. "What the hell are you doing?"

Trying to save the last of the romantic moment, while coughing up the last bit of river water that he had swallowed, James proudly held up something for Beatrice to see. Beatrice couldn't help thinking James looked like the five-year-old, mud covered boy holding up crushed dandelions for his mother that she had once known him as.

That's when she saw what he was really holding in his hand. And it wasn't dandelions.

"Jimmy…" Beatrice breathed in shock.

-

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Signed,
--RedRogue