Verity huffed as she placed another cardboard box in the middle of the living room. There were still four more boxes that Mark hadn't been able to fit in his car and so he had driven back to Brooklyn to get them. His sister and Verity were back at her apartment and carrying the ones he had managed to bring up the stairs and into the apartment. When Verity had suggested he moved in, she hadn't entirely thought about where all of his things would go. They now had duplicates of things and no doubt they'd have to donate some things. Did anyone really need two toasters? But they were going to do that the following day.
Mark had booked three days off work to make sure he had time to go through everything and sort his stuff out. Verity had been dashing in and out of the apartment with several tutoring appointments throughout the city keeping her busy. She had made sure that Mark had his own set of keys and Janet had told her that she had no issue with him moving in.
"You know, I had no idea he had this much stuff," Angelina complained as she placed the final box in the living room in the corner. They were piled high and pushed to one side. Verity had no energy to go through them and she suspected Mark would prefer to handle it himself. He was a man who more than capable of unpacking himself.
"His apartment clearly is deceptively larger than we thought," Verity commented back and she moved towards the kitchen. "Do you want a soda, Angelina?"
"Do you have Coca-Cola?"
"Of course," Verity said and she pulled one out of the fridge. She uncapped the glass bottle and handed it to the younger woman who was stood on the other side of Verity's kitchen cabinets. Verity took her own bottle and relished the feeling of the fizzy drink sliding down her throat. Closing her eyes tightly, she enjoyed that moment before looking back to the younger woman. "How's school going?" Verity decided to ask her. They hadn't entirely gotten on the first time they'd met. Things had been fraught and Verity had the suspicion that Angelina was protective over her brother.
"Good," Angelina said with a nod of her head. "Exams are coming up and it's getting closer towards me having to write my college application."
"Sneaks up on you before you know it," Verity said to her. "But you'll be great. I don't doubt it."
"I do," Angelina scoffed. "I have no idea what I'm going to do if I don't get into med school. Mark…he thinks I can do it and I love that he believes in me, but there's times when I wonder if I'll let him down if I don't get in."
Angelina had no idea why she was opening up to Verity. She wondered if it was because she had no one else to tell this to. Her friends at school were focused on their own exams and college applications. They had their own pressures as well. They had parents who were a lot pushier than Mark ever could be. Her aunt didn't entirely care to listen to her worry either. There were times when she felt alone and she almost wondered if she was looking for someone to validify her feelings: someone who might tell her that her brother wouldn't see her as a disappointment if she didn't get into med school.
"Why would you think that?" Verity questioned from her, leaning against the worktop. She folded her arms on top of the surface. Her hair tumbled down her cheeks and she creased the white shirt she was wearing. "Your brother could never think that. Mark adores you."
"I know he does," Angelina said. "I know he loves me and I love him so much...but he's put so much of his life on hold for me and I don't want to let him down."
"You could never let him down because he knows how hard you try," Verity assured her. She toyed with the rim of her bottle, letting her finger run along it as she thought about what Mark might say if he knew Angelina felt this way. "He believes in you but, if you don't get into med school, he would never be disappointed in you. He never could be. He knows how much you want it and how hard you are working."
"And if I don't get in?"
"Then we cross that bridge when we come to it," Verity said to her. "You can always apply again…take a gap year…there's option. There's so many options and I know it feels like there aren't. I know that when I was applying for Julliard it felt like life or death if I didn't get in. I get it's easy for me to stand here now and tell you this, but it's true. Whatever happens…whatever you aspire to be…you'll make it happen and you have an amazing brother by your side."
Angelina nodded thoughtfully. She knew that. She knew deep down that Mark would never be disappointed with her. She suspected that she was just anxious. Everything was happening so quickly. Deadlines were approaching fast and she could almost see her future and, if things went right, it excited her. She was just scared about if things didn't go right.
"You won't tell him this, will you?" Angelina checked.
Verity didn't entirely want to keep this from Mark, but she wanted Angelina to trust her. She wanted her respect. "I won't," Verity reluctantly agreed. "But maybe you should talk to him? When you're ready?"
"Maybe," Angelina said weakly and Verity just smiled at that. "Mark said you're an only child."
"I am," Verity said. "I mean, I have Janet who is my best friend and I see her as a sister…but it was only me growing up. My parents never wanted another child."
Angelina nodded her head and wondered how to broach the subject. She'd heard Mark and Verity whispering in corners throughout the day about whether or not they should move in and if she was sure because Mark didn't want to come between her and her parents. Angelina had also noticed the bruise on Verity's cheek. She had tried to hide it with foundation and concealer, but it was still quite visible.
"You don't get on with your parents, do you?" Angelina asked her.
Verity let out a short breath and just shrugged her shoulders. "I…things are complicated with them," she said to her. "They haven't entirely been supportive of things that I've chosen to do."
"And that bruise?" Angelina asked. "I don't want to pry but I heard Mark earlier…he…he said that no one should hit you, but you told me earlier that you'd just tripped."
And she had. Verity had tried to brush it off, but clearly Angelina was more astute than she had first thought. She knew that Mark felt a sense of apprehension for what had happened with her parents, despite none of it being his fault. Verity let out a deep breath and she figured if she was going to be with Mark then his sister deserved the truth. She was a clever young woman who would piece things together anyway. Verity closed her eyes for a moment and took a drink of her soda before telling her the truth.
"My parents come from high society," Verity said to Angelina. "They were raised to believe certain things and they always had this image of how my life would be…marry some rich businessman who could take care of me…and when I went to Julliard they almost got their wish. I dated a guy named James and I thought that I loved him. I was young and naïve really. He never loved me. He stole my compositions…took my ideas…and graduated top of the year."
Angelina's brows knitted together. "He did that?" she checked, unable to comprehend that someone was able to get away with that.
"He did," Verity said, leaving out everything else that he'd done to her. Angelina didn't need to know all of those details. "My parents never believed me that he'd done that. They thought that he was respectable. They adored him. They thought we were a good match because he came from money…had a good reputation…anyway, I split up with him and decided to go my own way. I tutored in piano and played in concerts in the city. They see that as not really being a proper job. They think I'm embarrassing."
"But Mark said that you're really good," Angelina said. "And you must be if you came top of your class."
"Mark might be biased, but I'm not bad," Verity said modestly. "Anyway, they never approved of me dating Mark. They…the things they've said about him have been horrible and they…they don't like us together."
"But you love him and he loves you, right?"
"We do," Verity confirmed with a nod of her head. "But love isn't everything to them and so they offered me an ultimatum. They told me to break up with him or else I'd lose them…and I chose Mark. I chose him because I love him and things got heated. I said some things that I maybe shouldn't have, but I was so angry with theme. They'd tried to bribe him to break up with me and he'd said no. My father…he lashed out…and since then I haven't seen them. I don't want to."
"Wow," Angelina simply whispered and she shook her head. "I had no idea…I just thought that you were…I don't know."
"Some posh rich girl?" Verity asked with a slight smirk on her face and Angelina turned slightly red because that was exactly what she had thought. She just didn't want to say it. "It's alright, Angelina. I know we didn't entirely get off on the right foot and you were just looking after your brother."
"I was just worried he was moving too fast," Angelina said. "And then you didn't know some things about him and I wondered if you knew him at all. I just don't want to see him get hurt."
"Which I totally understand," Verity promised her, holding a hand up in a silent promise. "But I do love your brother. I care very much for him and I…I hope that, maybe, in time, you might actually like me."
Angelina considered how she should respond to that. A part of her was apprehensive about how to respond. She took a moment to consider what to say and how she actually felt about things. But then she nodded her head and stood up straight.
"I'm sorry if I was rude the first time we met," Angelina said. "And I'd like that…getting to know you and everything…"
"I'd like that too," Verity said. "How about we try and make a start in unpacking some of these boxes? I was thinking we could leave it, but it might help Mark out?"
"I can do that," Angelina said with a nod.
They finished their drinks and began to move through the boxes of kitchenware, finding things Verity already had and things she didn't but Mark did. There was also the fact that some of his stuff was nicer than some of hers. They organised things into neat piles: things to keep; things they might keep; and things Verity insisted didn't belong in their kitchen.
Mark came back about an hour later, cardboard box in his arm. He kicked the door shut with his foot and wandered down the hall and into the living room that was looking like organised chaos. "What's going on here?" Mark wondered, setting the box down and finding the two women sat on the floor and going through a box.
"We figured we'd give you a hand unpacking. You have some nicer placemats than I do so we're keeping those," Verity said.
"But you're plates are so bland," Angelina complained. "Verity's are much nicer. Are you opposed to patterns?"
Mark wasn't even insulted by his sister's comments. He found it quite entertaining that the two of them were clearly getting on so well. He had no idea what had happened between them, but they seemed to be thick as thieves to some extent. Mark moved over to stand behind Verity, crouching down behind her and kissing the top of her head.
"I'm a man who likes beige," was all he offered.
"Well, unfortunately in this house we don't do beige," Verity said. "So those plates are not staying, but your sister is…for dinner, anyway. I said that we could order in pizza if that sounds good?"
"Sounds perfect," Mark said to her with a nod.
"I'm going to run to the bathroom. Can I put this in the chuck pile on the way?" she asked, holding up Mark's green cushion covers.
"Definitely," Verity answered and Mark just chuckled.
"Do I get a say in this?"
"You're outvoted and this is a democracy," Angelina said and dropped them into a pile by the door.
"A democracy with my stuff?" he asked from her.
"The only type of democracy," Angelina retorted and he heard the bathroom door close and he chuckled, bending down and kissing Verity on the side of her neck, nose tickling just by her ear.
"You two seem to be getting on well," Mark whispered and she leant back against him as he knelt behind her and she let her legs curl beneath her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hands flattening against her stomach as she leant her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.
"I told her everything," Verity said to him. "She's heard us whispering in corners…and so I told her about my parents and what had gone on."
"You told her?"
"She had a right to know," Verity said. "We're moving in together, Mark. She's your sister."
"I know…I just…I just didn't know if you'd want anyone else to know."
"Your sister isn't just anyone," Verity said. "And we've been getting on well. I think maybe she sees me as not just some hoity toity socialite now. It'll take time, but we'll get there. Besides, it's best if we all got along, isn't it? I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."
"Neither am I, sweetheart," Mark said. "But thank you," he whispered, kissing her neck once more. "It means a lot, you getting on with my sister."
"She's a good kid," Verity said. "And I love you. I want you to be happy."
"Trust me, sweetheart, I'm as happy as I have been in a long time."
…
Mark had agreed to go for after work drinks with some of his department. Kerry, Matthews and Tapp had agreed to come for one. A new rookie was also joining them: Daniel Rigg. Mark liked him. He had fight and passion. He wanted to do things right and make a difference in the world. He had a strong sense of justice and Mark understood him better than most. He found him funny as well. He was quite entertaining when he'd had a couple of drinks.
"How're things going with you and that lovely girlfriend of yours?" Tapp questioned.
They were in the pub just around the corner from the precinct where all of the officers drank. Mark nodded his head and took a sip of the warm beer that was almost flat. He set his glass down on the sticky wooden table. "Good," Mark said. "We've moved in together anyway. It's been three weeks and so far so good."
"That's a big step," Tapp said with a nod of his head. "Have you thought about any other steps?"
"You mean proposing?" Mark questioned.
"Hey, back in my day you wouldn't have been able to move in with her without having put a ring on her finger," Tapp said.
"Yeah, it was like that back in the 1800's," Rigg piped up and Tapp rolled his eyes at that. Matthews and Kerry continued making eyes at each other across the table and Mark wondered if they thought they were being subtle because it was the most obvious thing he'd seen.
"Very funny," Tapp said with a roll of his eyes. "But you've been together a while, right?"
"Just over a year," Mark said with a nod of his head. "But I'm not sure about proposing. I mean, I've thought about it…but…it feels soon. Maybe one day I'll do it. Just got to wait for the right moment."
"You think there is a right moment?" Kerry piped up with that question and Mark just shrugged his shoulders and took hold of his beer once more. "I think it's a cliché to say that. I think if you know then you know, right? You love her and she loves you."
"Careful, Allison," Eric warned her. "You've got thirty dollars on him marrying her, right?"
"Shit, I forgot about that," Kerry complained.
"Well, I haven't," Mark said. "And I will be cashing in on that one day, but for now we're both very happy where we are. Anyway, why are we talking about my personal life? Tapp over there has been flirting with Diana in archives for the past month and hasn't even asked her out yet."
"I'm just biding my time," Tapp defended himself.
"For a month?" Eric wondered. "Seems like you're waiting a bit too long if you ask me."
"Well, no one did ask you," Tapp retorted cheekily and everyone chuckled. "Besides, I'll make a move at some point, but I don't want to make things awkward. Dating co-workers isn't exactly a walk in the park is it? Especially if you break up."
There was an awkward silence then as everyone glanced in Eric and Allison's direction. The two of them said nothing on the matter though. They kept silent and Mark wondered what they talked about when they were together. What did they have in common that meant they worked well? They seemed like their only common interest was work. Then again, Mark suspected that people probably thought the same about him and Verity. What did they really have in common? He didn't know, but he did know that it worked and it worked better than he had ever imagined it could.
"I should get going," Mark declared, hands on his thighs as he stood up. "I told Verity I'd be back before it got too late."
"Look at him," Matthews cooed. "He's already domesticated."
"Shut up, Matthews," Mark retorted with a roll of his eyes. "And maybe buy a round? You've been tight most of the night."
Everyone made gasping noises then before breaking into laughs. Mark shrugged into his long, black coat and left the pub. He knew that he'd just had one beer and so he should be fine to drive back. Parking at their apartment was a nightmare, however. He usually had to just hope that he could slot into a space either outside or round the corner from the building. Thankfully, he found somewhere not too far away and he walked into the apartment building and checked the mailbox. He'd gotten into the habit of doing it considering Verity often returned home with arms full of music books and forgot.
Tugging out a letter addressed to her, Mark took the steps two at a time up to the apartment. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He could hear the faint hum of the television and he left his coat and bag in the hallway, locking the door behind him. Moving through the living room, he found Verity in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of shorts, her bare legs curled beneath her and a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her. Her hair was tied into a high ponytail and she turned her head to the side to look at Mark as he entered.
"Hey," she greeted him and he headed to the sofa. "Good day?" she asked.
"Not bad," he responded and set the letter down in her lap. "This was in the pigeonhole."
"Thanks for checking," she said and he greeted her with a kiss. "How was beer with your friends?"
"Good," Mark said with a nod of his head. "Although things got awkward when Tapp mentioned dating co-workers. Allison and Eric could hardly look more awkward than they did. It was like two school children being caught."
"They're still at it?" Verity checked.
"I assume so," Mark said with a shrug and he sat back. "It's complicated because we all know it's going on…but he's married…I mean, I get it's strained, but I just don't think cheating is the answer. I never think cheating is the answer."
"I know," Verity said and Mark lifted his arm up and draped it over her shoulders. She adjusted her position on the sofa, leaning against Mark and letting her head rest by his shoulder and she lifted a hand up to press against his chest gently, rumpling the crumpled blue shirt he wore. "I know when my father cheated on my mother…I never understood it. But then I began to realise that some people have other things that they see as more important. My mother was living the life my father provided for her and so she looked beyond his indiscretion."
"Your parents aren't exactly a mould for happy couples," Mark said and he tugged his badge from his belt. Verity took it from his hands, her fingers running along the cold edges of it and flipping it open to see his ID. "But you're happy, right? Happy here?"
"Beyond happy," she assured him and he let his chin sit on top of her head. "But other than that, work was fine?"
"Work was fine," he promised her in a soft whisper, kissing into her hair and inhaling her familiar strawberry shampoo. "Although I probably should tell you that Derek Jacobson is up in court tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" she questioned.
"Yep," Mark said. "I have a case I've been working on just being heard in the courtroom down the hall. I took a look at the listings today and his name came up…plus it's been all over the news."
"I suspected it would be," Verity replied with a nod of her head and she wrapped her arms around Mark's midriff, pulling him closer to her. "But whatever. He committed a crime and he has to pay for that, right?"
"You know that's true, right?" Mark checked with her, a hand moving to stroke her hair gently in the ponytail she had it in. "You don't feel guilty about what happened, right? Because you have no reason to feel guilty. He made his choice."
"No, I know," Verity said. "I just…everything that happened with Matthew…did it happen because of his upbringing? I mean, what he tried to do…are people born evil? Or did his upbringing mess him up?"
Mark considered what she was saying for a moment and he knew that there was a part of her that was conflicted, but that was because she was a good person.
"I see a lot of people get arrested, Ver," Mark said to her. "And sometimes it's upbringing and sometimes…I think sometimes people just have dark tendencies inside of them…I think we always have a choice on if we act on them though…but I think some people are inherently fucked up."
"I guess," Verity said.
"But if you're looking for an excuse for that entire family then I think you can boil that down to them just being rich assholes who think they can get away with what they want," Mark said and Verity wondered if he was right as he continued stroking her hair gently. "They've never been told no and that in itself is dangerous. Look at how they didn't hold their son accountable for what he tried to do to you…any good parent would've been mortified…not tried to blackmail you into silence."
"I know, I know," Verity promised Mark. She knew that she wasn't entirely thinking rationally. A part of her just wished things had been different.
"Come here," Mark urged from her and he bent down to kiss her on the cheek tenderly. "It's alright, Ver."
"I love you," Verity whispered.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered back and finally kissed her gently on the lips. "Now, do you want a top up? I think I might join you in a glass considering it's Friday night."
"The bottle is in the fridge," Verity said and Mark kissed her once more before slipping from the sofa. "I also made lasagne for dinner. There's some leftover in the fridge if you're hungry. You might just need to warm the oven up again to reheat it."
"I'll stick it on now. Do you want anymore?" Mark asked her.
"Just a little bit," she said and reached for the letter she had in her lap. She peeled back the lip of the envelope.
Mark fiddled with the knob of the oven to warm it up again before heading to the fridge and grabbing the opened bottle of wine and another glass. "I was thinking that we could maybe head into the city tomorrow…go for a walk…have breakfast…Angelina mentioned maybe coming over. I think she's stressing over exams."
Mark carried the wine back into the living room and topped up Verity's glass before looking at her. He noticed a frozen expression of horror on her face, her eyes widened and her lips slightly parted. He put down the bottle and sat on the edge of the seat, wondering just what had happened.
"Ver?" he questioned her, wondering if she was ill. "What is it, darling?"
"I…I don't know," Verity admitted to him and he looked down to the letter that was in her lap. "I…who…who would do that…Mark…"
Mark picked the letter up and saw that it wasn't a letter at all. It was a photograph. It was of the two of them moving boxes out of Mark's apartment in Brooklyn. Verity was handing Mark a box and he was slipping it into the trunk of his car. But in the image, both of their eyes were scratched out in broad strokes. Mark continued peering down at the image and he shook his head.
"We need to think rationally about this," Mark said to her.
Verity scoffed. "How the fuck do we do that?" she asked from him and jumped up from the sofa like it was burning her. Her hands dropped to her hips and she began pacing up and down. "Someone sent a photo of us…someone's been watching us…that was when we were moving your stuff…who…I don't know who it would be."
"There's only so many people it could be," Mark promised her and moved to his feet, placing the photo on the coffee table face down. "Your parents? They could be doing this to scare you?"
"You think they're that sick?" Verity asked from him.
"I think they tried to pay me off so that I would stop dating you," Mark said. "But I don't know, Ver. Then there's James…Derek Jacobson…"
"But why?" Verity questioned. "I don't know why someone has sent this to me."
"To try and get at us," Mark said to her. "Listen to me, Ver, I'll take that into the precinct tomorrow and I'll get forensics to look over it. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, whoever sent this is just trying to get at us and we won't let them."
"How are you so calm?" Verity demanded from him. "I don't understand."
"Because this is a feeble attempt at getting at us," Mark said. "If it's your parents then it's because they're trying to get us to break up by scaring you…that's why someone sent that. They want you scared. If it's your ex then it's for the same reason because he's clearly not over you…and if it's Derek Jacobson then it's a pathetic attempt to scare you as revenge because he blames you for what he's going through."
"And there's no one else? No one you've arrested? No one who would want revenge on you?"
"If it was on me then it would've been addressed to me."
"You're in the photo."
"But it was sent to you," Mark said and he moved towards her. He stopped her from pacing, his arms going round her waist as she tried to move away and keep moving, but he was solid, stopping her from going. "Listen to me, Ver, sweetheart…hey…" he urged, moving a hand so that he forced her to look him in the eye. "We'll figure out who did this, okay? I promise you. Whoever it was…it's a pathetic attempt to try and frighten you."
"Well, it worked," Verity scoffed back.
"No one's going to hurt you, Ver," he said to her. "I swear to you, okay? I won't ever let anything happen to you. I love you. Now come here…" he urged her and she buried her face against his shoulder, her eyes closing and her arms wrapping around him and holding onto him tightly. Mark kissed her on the top of her head and buried his cheek into her hair, his own eyes closing. He would get to the bottom of this. He knew that he would. And whoever had done this would pay. He'd make sure of it.
...
A/N: Not sure if anyone is still reading, but if so then I'd love to know your thoughts!
