Chapter 27 Into the Fire
Gold didn't think. He could have analyzed the situation, he could have noted how large Tony's body was in comparison to his, perhaps where the best place for him to hit him without Tony being able to offer retaliation, perhaps he could have even talked his way out of it all without having to do anything. Since none of this was the case, he went after him in a blind rage. This meant that it was sheer luck, or the oaf was really that drunk, for it took only one thwack! From his cane across the man's neck and head to have him crumple at his feet. Gold didn't even register the hands that loosened from their tight hold on his precious Belle, or the body that went down in one large heap, no, the man had scared his Belle, hurt his Belle, and needed to pay. Thwack! Again went his cane on the heap in front of him. Again, and again. Before the fourth hit was made, his arm was stilled by a tiny, quivering hand.
'Belle' He breathed, the rage parting. Only she could still the dragon's fiery rampage. Ignoring the attacker who would not be bothering them for some time, he hoped, he soon had an armful of Belle. Of course, he always knew she was a tiny thing-he had observed it from the beginning. However, it was another thing entirely for her to be this close to him, fitting perfectly, so perfectly in his arms. And as much as he wished to savor the moments she let the old dragon come near, he set aside any thoughts besides those to comfort Belle as she trembled in his arms.
'Thank you' She whispered.
'Did he hurt you? Besides your…' he pulled her away only slightly, and he held out her arm in his hand, red marks the exact shape of oafish fingers imprinted in her skin. He lightly brushed over them, wishing he might go ahead and hit the man a few more times for each growing bruise.
She shook her head, nestling it closer to his chest. 'No, I'm fine-thanks to you.' She looked up at him and gave him a watery smile. He squeezed her closer, now he was soaking every second of their closeness, though hating the reason why she did so.
It took several hours before they could all exhaustively head to their own beds. The police were called, statements were written and given. Graham, the officer who had come out, was someone known to Belle. Apparently he had dated her friend Emma a couple of years ago and while he and Emma had split up on less than amicable terms, he had remained friends with Belle-this had been good for her, and her nerves. He wondered if she were merely running on fumes at this point, her hand rubbed at her forehead a few times, indication of a headache, and while he really wished he could throw the officer out and allow them all to go to sleep, he was glad that Belle seemed less tense with Graham.
Neal had walked in at some point, gathering what had happened from the bits and pieces that were spoken as they talked. Teenagers aren't known for their ability for social grace and empathy, he supposed, but Neal did rather well with the whole thing. He came over and squeezed Belle's hand and gave her a concerned smile, asked her if she was okay, of course, she wasn't, but she smiled and said yes. He made her a cup of iced tea without anyone asking and went back upstairs to give them space again.
Finally, the no good, terrible, day for Belle could close, and he could only hope that things would get better from here.
…
Belle had been so exhausted that she fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She knew she might not be so lucky in the future, for as soon as her eyes were opened the next morning, the events from the day before came back in distressing clarity. Her father, money, the rumors, Tony. She fought back a sob as the thoughts came. Soon she had gathered herself, told herself that really, all told, things weren't so bleak. Tony hadn't actually done anything to her. The things he had threatened to do, and what he accused her of doing, had made her feel sick to her stomach, but Alex had been there-Alex had been there through everything. She closed her eyes and remembered how he had flung himself and his cane upon Tony, how the sheer rage in his eyes ought to have frightened her, but she could only be so proud and thankful of his braver, how he had stilled when she worried that he might actually kill Tony if he continued on. And then, and then how he had pulled her in for comfort after it was all over.
She sighed as she made herself get up, no matter how much she wanted to just bury herself in the blankets and pretend that all was right with the world and shut reality out. Stepping in front of her mirror, she grimaced as she noticed the unsightly bruises that had replaced the hands that had gripped her arms-the very sight of them bringing back the memory of all the fear and terror. Despite the rising temperatures in Maine, she rifled through her shirt drawer and pulled out a long sleeved shirt from the back. She didn't want to look at it, and didn't think anyone else ought to have to see them either.
Before she allowed her thoughts to overwhelm her again, she pulled her chin up and went downstairs to make pastries-lots and lots of pastries. She would make enough for Dove, and for Neal and Alex to have all week if they wanted. She just wanted to work on something that would pull her mind away from the events of the day before.
Neal was already downstairs, Alex had yet to appear.
'Do you want to help me make my fruit-filled pastries?'
Neal nodded his head, looked at her shirt for half a minute and began helping her cut up fruit, measure ingredients, and learn the correct temperature for the water to make the yeast activate and allow the dough to rise. When Alex had come down, the dough had been set aside to rise for an hour, and they were putting the cut fruit in a pan with sugar and lemon juice on the stove to begin the filling. He had come down while she was explaining why you put lemon juice in the sweet berries. When she looked up to find him there, she could see a plethora of emotions cross his face. His frown at her sleeved shirt, which she pulled at with her sticky hands, willing him to not think about it too much. He then gazed at the pastries, his eyebrows raised at the size of the dough, but as his eyes ended at the two of them, her and Neal, stirring over a hot stove, he seemed to relax a little. He even smiled when she smiled at him.
'It looks like Dove will be happy tomorrow.' She could tell he was attempting levity, which she greatly appreciated. It didn't matter if they were all thinking about something else, she didn't want to talk about it, and if it was too awkward for them to talk about it too, then so be it.
'And what about you?' She asked with a cheeky grin, trying to continue with the same teasing tone that he had used. 'Are you happy we are making this?'
'He leaned over, his hands planted on his cane, his nose coming close to the filled saucepan and looking it all over with mock skepticism. 'I suppose I'm not unhappy.' He smirked, and Belle felt a true grin take over at the twinkle in his eye. Neal looked at her with that 'I'm right here' look, reminding her of his conversation all that time ago, which made her bite her lip and blush. Glancing at Alex, he had turned red too! She wondered what sort of look Neal was giving him to cause such a thing.
By that afternoon, she was actually humming as she folded a load of towels. She still hadn't made up for the time lost from her trips, but she wasn't too concerned with it, as she normally had plenty of hours in the day to make up for it once the week began. Alex had told her she didn't have to do it, that towels would still be there on Monday when he took Neal with him to the shop (Neal had expressed an interest in going there, and she knew he was more than pleased that Neal had wanted to come along with him). She had smiled at his kindness, but let him understand that she needed to be doing something, to take her mind off of everything else. He had nodded when her eyes pleaded-he did understand and let her do what she wanted while he went and read, and Neal shot some hoops outside.
She heard Alex's footsteps, the tell tell sounds of the cane thumping on the floor, the heavier step mixed with the lighter one, go to the side of the house on multiple occasions while Neal was outside. Things had affected him too. His beloved home had been breached, though just the outside portion, his sanctuary, had been trespassed, and he was a spooked father, his protective instincts at high alert for any signs of the act being repeated. Belle had yet to venture outdoors to her garden again. She told herself the worry was silly, Tony was presently in jail and wouldn't be bothering them anytime soon, hopefully never again. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to go back, not yet. Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow she didn't get the chance either. Neal and Alex had gone and the Victorian was quiet and lonely. She eagerly awaited Dove coming over to pick up the dry cleaning and the grocery list, and she enjoyed his genuine smiles (even if he didn't say much more than 'Thank you, Miss Belle') as he accepted her gift of leftover pastries. Then he was gone, and though she had much to do to keep her occupied, she counted down the hours before the Victorian would be occupied with 'her boys' again(as she now referred to them as such in her head). She sighed. She quite wished they were her boys. She was just the maid, she reminded herself. A well liked maid, she thought, and a friend, but it was most likely all she would ever be.
She looked over the grocery bags that Dove had brought in half an hour ago, and began pulling out what would be needed for dinner in a couple of hours. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket.
It was Henry's number. She had forgotten, in all that had happened, to tell him not to come over for the week. Now he was probably wondering why her father had told him to run along, or was wondering why her father had begged him to work from the goodness of his heart-or something-she could see him doing a number of ridiculous things.
'Hello?' She answered.
'Belle?' The terror in his voice made Belle's chest tighten. 'Y-your D-dad, he isn't moving! What do I do?' The wail and confusion, in the normally very bright-albeit one with his head in the clouds, somehow caused Belle's voice to exhibit calm, though inwardly she felt like she could hardly breathe.
'Call 911, Henry. I am coming up to the hospital as soon as I can. Call Emma and have her come and get you, I am so sorry you're having to do this. Can you-can you feel a pulse, Henry-He, he is alive, isn't he?'
Heavy breathing followed, the break in words made Belle's heart pound.
'Y-yes he's alive, I think. I think I feel something.'
'Okay' She breathed in small relief. 'Okay, I am going to get off now, call them, Henry, they'll walk you through what to do while they get an ambulance.'
She got off and hurriedly called Alex's number, his being what she went to before calling Dove to come back and pick her up.
'Belle' Came the voice on the other side. She tried to seek comfort from the tone alone, but she had used up all her bravery on Henry.
'Alex, it's my dad, he's…Henry found him unconscious.' She swallowed the lump that was building in her throat. 'I-I need to go up to the hospital, would it be okay if I called Dove to…'
'I'm on my way to get you right now, okay?'
'Thank you.' She breathed. She ran up to her room and frantically began filling her small backpack with a few essential items in case she had to stay overnight with her father. If he's still alive. She told herself. Tears ran freely down her face and she hadn't the willpower to brush them away. All the ire she held towards her father, after the disastrous weekend, melted away into something like worry and dread. Worried that the last thread of family she had would be taken away from her.
She scurried back down the stairs and heard the car pull up the drive, and she noticed that Neal moved to the back seat so that she could take the passenger one.
There was suffocating silence for a moment or two. She didn't know what to say, and could only fidget with the bag in her hand. Another hand, a strong, but slight hand was placed on top of her own, restless one. For a moment, she almost forgot all the bad that was going on, for Alex was not one to initiate physical contact and it shocked and warmed her. He was here, making himself do something out of his comfort zone, to provide her with comfort, and tears came to her eyes, extra ones she didn't know she had put in reserve, at the care he showed her. Just like when he engulfed her after what happened with Tony-he was there for her. She looked over at him, and he must have been glancing at her from time to time. His deep, kind eyes met hers and so much was said in his look.
'Oh Belle' He squeezed her hand. The world was feeling so dark. There was so much unknown and trouble, but there was Alex, and somehow his comfort gave light to guide her through the troubled seas.