Okay sooo... the main driving idea for this chapter was supposed to be in my alt version; a version I swore would never see daylight and for a good reason. But this idea became a cancer that I became obsessed with and became so ungodly torn on whether or not I wanted to implement into the main story. After some serious thought (like, a little over a year) I decided... I'm totally going through with it. I can only imagine the shock/anger/dislike this direction with the story might have on the dedicated reader base. So, with that, I'll be hiding under my favorite rock.
19 – Mistake After Mistake
The numbers on the satellite phone's dialing pad stared back at him. Muldoon didn't blink off the item sitting on the kitchenette bar, beckoning him to pick it up.
Terrence was seated on one of the stools adjacent from where the other man stood. "There's no point in trying to call. He has his phone turned off. Knowing him, within the next hour or so, that number will no longer be in service."
"Most likely," Muldoon breathed out. "But there is one person I know he'll contact for sure, if not already."
"Who would that be?"
The phone was picked up, and a London based number called. Within a few rings, an emotional sounding woman answered. "Derek? Is that you? Honey, what's going on?"
Muldoon gave a quick 'I told you so' look at Terrence. "Hello, Bobbi."
"Robert?! What in the world is going on over there? Derek called me in absolute tears about ten minutes ago! He was saying something about how he almost killed her…that girl of yours, Pet. He kept going on about how it was an accident and that he never meant to hurt her. Then he hung up."
"Did he tell you where he was going?"
Bobbi gasped in disbelief. "I'm not telling you anything else until you explain to me what happened!"
Muldoon plopped down on a stool at the kitchenette bar and rested his face in hand. "Some days ago, he and Pet were going into town during a rainstorm when he lost control of the car he was driving. Landed them upside down in a ditch that sent them to the hospital for moderate injuries."
"And you didn't call me letting me know?!"
Muldoon held the phone several inches from his ear before he went deaf. "I said moderate injuries, not life-threatening!" he raged back. Terrence sat there, feeling a bit awkward at listening to the phone call being placed on the loudspeaker. As if that was really necessary. He could practically hear everything being said word for word across the bar without it. "A broken arm, two bruised ribs, and a mild concussion were all he got. If his injuries had been worse, I would have notified you."
"How very typical of you." Bobbi briefly sobbed, sniffed back her tears, and continued. "He might be your son, but he's still my boy!" Terrence's eyes widened, and he almost fell off his bar stool in wordless shock. Muldoon closed his eyes and exhaled a heavy sigh. His head dropped, and his entire posture turned to goop. Bobbi's tangent continued. "I raised him since he was two months old because you couldn't! Because you couldn't stay off the bottle and were incapable of raising a child after the divorce!"
"Bobbi," Muldoon drawled in a groan.
"Here I thought after all these years, you finally had your shit together! Looks like I was wrong, seeing how you couldn't even pick up the bloody phone and call me until everything went all to pot!"
Muldoon sat the phone down on the bar and rubbed his eyes. "Will you shut up?" Bobbi's end of the call went quiet. "I need to know if he told you where he was going or a number to call him."
"All he told me was that he fucked up and that no one would stop hounding him about it. He needed to get away from everyone for a little while to clear his head. That's all I know."
Bobbi abruptly ended the call, Muldoon slamming a hand down on the bar top.
Terrence fidgeted with the beige saltshaker, usually kept beside the stove's top. "So, uh…Derek's your son, eh?" The scarred ex-game warden was silent and unmoving, where he sat. "Something tells me he doesn't know this, or he wouldn't have been calling you Uncle Rob this whole time."
"Thirty-five years ago, I met who would eventually become my ex-wife. But not before I screwed everything up by being a damned fool and letting alcohol control me. That was one mistake. Derek was only six weeks old when I was walked out on, and divorce papers slapped in my face two weeks later."
Muldoon paused in his storytelling to rub his stubble ridden chin. "As if my drinking wasn't on an already bad level, it got worse from there. It got so bad that Bobbi thought it best she take Derek while I got help. It was only supposed to be for a few months, not his entire life. I spent what time I could with him as much as possible."
Terrence tapped a finger on the side of the saltshaker in thought. "Why didn't Derek's real mom want the responsibility of him?"
Muldoon shook his head. "When she got pregnant with him, she thought she wanted a kid. Once he was born, all that changed. Having a baby kept her from going out whenever she wanted to do whatever she wanted. It's another reason why we got a divorce."
Terrence was more than intrigued now. "What happened that turned a few months into a lifetime?"
"Another mistake. I went to rehab, did the meetings…John Hammond did his best to help me and work with me. Things started looking up. I was ready to have my son back. But…it was too late. I took too long getting my life back together." Muldoon lightly traced circles over several of the phone's numbers with a scarred finger. It then occurred to him he was dialing Derek's cellphone number in his head. "Derek was four years old and thought Bobbi and her husband were his real parents. She and I had many long talks about it. She worried completely upending everything Derek knew would do more harm than good. We came to the mutual agreement she would resume raising him as his mother, and I would be known as an uncle. We agreed to tell him when we felt the time was right once he older."
The saltshaker was set aside. "I know Derek hated his dad, but was he at least on good terms with Bobbi?"
"Oh, yes! They were very close. He would scream and cry at night when she would go to her evening classes or any time she left the house without him."
Terrence huffed a laugh and cocked a smile. "Sometimes, I think he never grew out of that phase."
Even Muldoon had to smile, but it didn't last long. "I was devastated knowing everything I worked for was for nothing. Then one day, a second chance was literally handed to me."
"Pet."
Muldoon nodded. "I knew my life was about to change for the better. I wanted that change, more than anything. My life for the past several years before then had been nothing but mistake after mistake."
Terrence felt sorry for Derek, whether he ever learned the truth or not. "Given everything that's recently happened, have you considered opening up and being honest with him? You can't keep something like this from him forever. He's not a child anymore, Robert. He deserves to know."
The older man nodded a second time. "Agreed. Unfortunately, I can't tell him if I don't know where he went and with no way of contacting him."
"Hopefully, he'll return soon, then." The two sat in silence. Had it not been for hearing Muldoon say it himself, Terrence wouldn't have believed it. "Are you going to tell the others?"
Silence kept Muldoon's mouth tense, and his thoughts scattered in all directions. His head shook after a lengthy wait. "Not yet. It wouldn't be right for Derek to be the last to know."
"And Pet? What about her?" Terrence saw the other man's eyes drop and his brow sink.
"I'll tell her tomorrow when I go by and visit."
Tears threatened Pet's eyes as she sat unnervingly still in her hospital bed. She kept trying to say something, but her mouth refused to cooperate.
Her lifelong best friend was seated beside the bed and observing her constant shifting expressions. "Say something?"
Pet lightly scoffed, blinked in dismay several times, and wrinkled her brow. "Fuck…" She turned her bewildered watch to his. "What the actual fuck, Robert? That's pretty damn shitty to not even tell your own son, oh hey, by the way, guess what…and before they reach adulthood?" Pet shook her head. "Scratch that. Never mind. That little shit never grew out of the toddler mentality."
"Funny you should say that. Terrence said something along those lines last night."
"He was here last night." Hearing the words had Muldoon sitting more upright in the chair. Pet frowned. "I'm guessing it was after leaving the dig site. I remember waking up when I sensed someone nearby. That whole animal sensory and heightened hearing thing. I could tell he was upset, so I didn't say anything or show I was awake. I could see his reflection in the window, though. He kept wiping at his face like he was crying. Had…had I known he planned to leave the dig site to go to wherever I would've tried to stop him." A whimper came from the hybrid. "I'm sorry."
Muldoon sat back in his chair. "It's not your fault. It's mine for not being there for him when I needed to be."
A knock at the door was followed by a woman's peppy voice. "Good morning, Ms. Hammond! It's time for your physical therapy!"
A blur of pastel yellow scrubs passed by her, followed by the room's window blinds being yanked open. Blinding midmorning sunlight invaded the room and assaulted the hybrid's eyes. She hissed a screech and hid her face from the torture under the blankets.
Twenty minutes later, she was strapped to a walker and being made to walk up and down the corridor. The nurse was at her side and easing along the IV stand with every frail step Pet made. It was because of her physical therapy sessions that Grant bought her new house shoes that went up to her ankles. They hid her sickle claws very well but not how she naturally walked on the balls of her feet. Once in a while, she would get strange looks from passing by hospital visitors and the occasional unknowing medical technician. Simon's visit to the hospital and meeting with a few higher-ups merited the hybrid a dedicated medical team. It was to limit the amount of nonessential exposure personnel had to her.
Once Pet reached the end of the hallway, she turned around this time with Muldoon's assistance and returned to her room. Upon entering the room, she saw the electroacupuncture specialist finishing in setting up for another session with that. Pet couldn't wait to get better. She wasn't sure how much more of the specialists she could take.
The following week was finally getting discharged from the hospital. Fresh air never smelled so good nor a ride back to the dig site in the museum truck more welcomed. Grant's driving was making Pet nervous, however. He took every speed bump incredibly slow and went out of his way to avoid every bump and pothole in the highway. The dirt drive was straight from hell. The truck was being driven so slow the speedometer barely registered their moving.
Pet knew the drive was slightly bumpy and that taking it slow was preferred for her condition. But this was ridiculous. "Alan, the governor on this old ass clunker is set at sixty-five miles an hour, not point sixty-five. Can you please go a little bit faster before next week gets to the dig site before we do?"
Billy snickered in the backseat.
Getting up the stairs to go into Quarantine was as challenging as fighting an angered rhino. Wait…actually, the rhino would have been easier. Pet could feel the residual morphine in her veins wearing off, allowing her to feel more of her lower back's quelled pain. She was guided to her room and allowed to lay down on her bed that felt way more comfortable and inviting than the hospital's.
Pet sunk into the mattress that better supported her lower back and laid there. She missed the smells of the trailer and the daily sounds of the excavation. No more listening to the constant background chatter of nurses and the chirps of medical equipment. No more having to get woken up at all hours of the night for routine checkups. Maybe now she could actually get some sleep. But sleep was a short-lived dream when a wave of pain ripped her awake.
Pet yelped and whined where she laid.
The lamp on her nightstand was flicked on, and Grant came into view. "It's okay. I'm right here."
This particular scenario was one he had been briefed on as most likely to occur shortly after arriving back home. With that briefing came the knowledge of what to do in response. A device, much like the one used for the electroacupuncture sessions, was given to the hybrid prior to her discharge. Instead of needles, it was six sticky pads that needed to be placed on her lower back.
A twenty-minute session with the device helped relax the tense muscles and ease a bit of the pain. A prescription pain killer was taken, and in an hour, Pet was back asleep.
A week later of at-home physical therapy and electroshock therapies allowed Pet a little bit better movement. Although, she was pretty damn sure it was being allowed to soak in a steaming hot tub of water. It was absolutely blissful how much it relaxed her. Doing that twice a day felt way better than the recommended therapies.
Pet finished getting dressed after soaking in the tub right before dinner. She stepped out of the bathroom and slowly made her way to the kitchenette bar. Terrence was standing behind the stove and browning what looked like two pounds of hamburger meat in a skillet. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were getting faster at walking."
Pet scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding me? A granny in a walker could whoop my ass in a marathon right now."
Ever so carefully, she sat down on a stool and stared down at the satellite phone near her hand. She knew it was kept out should Derek call. Muldoon exited the back bunk room and with a cold beer bottle in hand. He sat down next to the hybrid, paying no mind to her hateful stare at his beer.
In one quick motion, the beer bottle was taken out of his hand only to be replaced by the satellite phone. It was Pet's turn to ignore the other's disapproving scowl. "You can have it back after you've called Simon."
"What in the bloody dazes do I want to talk to him about?"
"To tell him you'll be the one going to California instead of London."
Terrence stopped cooking the meat long enough to stare jaw dropped at the hybrid. "Wait, are you saying you're going to help him with the interviews?"
Muldoon studied the intensity in those golden yellow eyes. "I thought you didn't want to leave the states."
"I have a very strong suspicion Derek is somewhere in California. He's either hiding out in his bunker, or he's holed up in a motel room somewhere. Hell, maybe he's even got him an apartment. I don't know. I just know he's spent quite some time in Cali doing his bounty hunter bullshit."
"I thought of the bunker and even a way on how to try and track him down."
"Good thing you're going to California next week, then." Pet patted her best friend on the shoulder. "You two can sit down and talk about stuff."
Terrence started laughing to himself. "You know this means Simon gets to violate you with his wallet, now, right? Since you'll be accompanying him to London."
Pet drummed her claws on the bar top. "I'm not going to London to spend time with him so he can wine and dine me. I'm going to London to see somewhere and some things I'll probably never get to see again."
Muldoon flipped the phone over to find the listed number to Simon's office in California. If he wasn't there, then he was in India. While that wasn't too much of a problem, his Hindi wasn't exactly the best. It had been many long years since he spoke it. It took calling India to get ahold of the billionaire. The delight in his voice at hearing the news was unmistakable through the call, it enough to make Pet cringe. Agreeing to a London trip with him was going to be a mistake. She just knew it.
Now to bridge this chapter with the two London interview chapters I already have written. Or, just maybe, I might poke around some more on a Pet side story project I've been working on.
