Here we are! The first chapter of the final part of this saga! I truly hope it's enjoyed, even if it's not fast paced. I look forward to hearing some feedback from my readers :) I hope I didn't take too long to post this and thus lost the interest of those who were following this series *fingers crossed*
Happy reading!
All the Love You Left Me by Sara Evans
Somewhere Out There by Our Lady Peace
Without You Here by Goo Goo Dolls
Incomplete by Backstreet Boys
Breathe by Melissa Ethridge
Exile by Taylor Swift & Bon Iver
When Someone Stops Loving You by Little Big Town
The Night We Met by Lord Huron ft. Phoebe Bridgers
Blood by Breaking Benjamin
Lifetime by Three Days Grace
2003
Illinois, U.S.
Rita had no idea why she landed here in Illinois of all places; it just felt right. She shut the motel room blinds and double checked that the door was locked before going to sit at the little kitchen table and figure out what the hell she was going to do now. She rested a hand on her belly out of reflex, smoothing it back and forth repeatedly as she rested her head in her other hand, her elbow leaning on the table. She did her best not to think about Luke, but it was hard. She could imagine his reaction to her being gone, and as angry as she was at him, it still hurt to know how devastated he'd be.
But Simon was terrifying, and she felt so confused and twisted up inside that his words were all jumbled and her heart was left shattered and broken.
How could Luke have said those things? How could he have lied to her? Those questions kept spinning in her brain. She still didn't get it, but she couldn't forget his voice and face on that recording either. It hadn't been one of joking around. She knew what he sounded like when he was kidding.
She started to cry again. How was she going to do this on her own? How was she going to explain to her child why Luke was not there? How was she going to keep her child safe? She held her head with both hands now, trying to stop the tears from flowing. Her breaths came in bursts and gasps until she finally had nothing left in her. Then she just sat there, desolate. Her brain kept going over what she already knew: she had to establish herself somewhere and not by her real name. She couldn't risk Simon finding her.
"Okay," she said out loud. "You can do this. You have to do this. There is no going back now." Her fingers dug into her scalp. She wanted to call Luke so badly, to the point she got up and went to the phone and pulled it off the receiver. She listened to the dial tone, her breathing erratic again. What would it do to her to hear his voice? She'd probably cave and tell him everything, and he'd want to come find her. She heard his words again, felt the barbs stab her with each one. She slowly put the phone down, hanging it up and resting her forehead on it.
It was over. She had to move on.
Five minutes later, she picked it up again.
New York, U.S.
Luke sat at his kitchen table and stared at nothing. He couldn't think, couldn't focus. He flexed his hands in and out of fists. What had he done? His brain was spinning. What had he done to make her leave? And not just leave but leave without a goodbye? Yes, there'd been some tension about the long distance, but enough to abandon him without a word? He couldn't figure it out. The pain in his chest was eating him alive, and it left him gasping every so often.
A "mrrow" made him look down to see Remi looking up at him, tail swishing back and forth on the floor.
"I don't know where she is," he told the cat, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry." Remi hopped up onto his lap then, pushing herself against his chest as if to comfort him. He rested a hand on her side, closing his eyes. This cat was the last thing he had of Rita. It frustrated him that Rachel wouldn't tell him where Rita was. He felt like she knew and was keeping it from him. It frustrated him to know that Rita was possibly angry about something but he had no idea what. Their last conversation had been about her visit, and she'd sounded excited about something. He could tell she had been trying hard not to tell him about it because he knew her so well, and he'd been looking forward to finding out what it was.
So what had made her angry and then just leave? Was she angry? Was she just done and void of all emotion? No, it made no sense. She'd wanted to tell him something.
Maybe she'd met someone else and was excited to dump you.
"Urgh," he said out loud to this thought. Fresh pain went through his chest. That couldn't be true. Not his Rita. It just couldn't. And she wouldn't be excited to tell him something like that. She wasn't like that.
Remi hopped up onto the table now, bunting her nose against his face. He reached to scratch her chin and rub along her cheeks under her ears. She purred in response.
"I wish you could talk," he said to her. "Maybe you know something about why she left."
Remi just meowed lightly and moved to put her tail in his face next. He scratched her back, thinking still. Rita had taken everything out of this apartment, what little she had here, but she clearly had not been back to the one in New Orleans, not before he got there. So whatever had happened, it had been big enough for her to not go home. He'd have to deal with all that stuff at some point when he had time.
His phone rang on the middle of the table, and he jumped for it, thinking it was her. Remi tore off to do her own thing as he answered it.
"Rita?" he said desperately.
"No," Alex answered. "Who's Rita?"
Luke banged his head against the table and swore mentally. How could he have forgotten that he was keeping Rita hidden from his colleagues here? That she only called his other cell phone? How could he not have realized he'd picked up the wrong phone?!
"My housekeeper," he lied.
"Really? You sound that desperate when you talk to her?"
"Yea, it's been a while, and the place looks like shit. I need her to come clean it. She's been ducking my calls."
"Maybe she doesn't want to talk to you anymore."
Luke sat there a little bit frozen. There was something about Alex's voice that made him feel like maybe his partner knew what was going on. Then he gave himself a shake. How could he? Luke had done very well to keep Rita far away from him. Alex knew nothing about her.
"What do you want?" he asked roughly now.
"We got a job," Alex answered lightly. "I'll meet you at our spot in twenty." Then he hung up, and Luke stood there gripping the phone in his hand tightly. He didn't feel like doing a job. He wanted to walk away from it all, but if he couldn't find Rita, then what was the point? He exhaled long and hard. He'd do the damn job and then keep looking for Rita. When he found her, he'd apologize and tell her he was done with work. He would dedicate everything to her and their marriage. He wouldn't give up on her.
He just hoped, if he found her, that she would listen.
Illinois, U.S.
"Hey," Rita said when the call connected. "It's me."
"Rita," Rachel said, sounding relieved. "Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm safe," she told her. "I'm sorry for all the cloak and dagger."
"Is someone after you or something? Does Luke know? Damn, girl, he was frantic when he called me."
"He called you?" Rita asked, surprised.
"Yes. He was looking for you. He was at the apartment."
"He was?"
"Yes! He took Remi."
"Oh." That was good. Rita had stressed about the cat, but she'd been too afraid to go there to pick her up. Simon had warned her not to go home.
"Rita, you're gonna make it right with Luke...aren't you?"
"Rach, you don't know the whole story, and I...I can't tell you."
"Rita..."
"Please, can you pack up my stuff and put it in storage? I'll come get it later."
"I can. Look, I know it's not my business, but Luke loves you Rita. He'd do anything for you...we both know that. Please call him. At least let him know you're okay."
"I'll call in a while, and you let me know what storage place and unit number you put it all in," Rita said, ignoring her. "I can't thank you enough."
"You sure you're okay?"
"I will be," Rita answered. "Take care, Rach."
"Is this goodbye forever?"
Rita took in some breaths. Was it? She had to keep her friend safe from Simon, so she knew the answer.
"You'd do it for me," she said finally.
"What do you mean?"
"Trust me, you're safer not being around me, Rach. I love you, and I'll miss you. Please take care."
"Rita..." Rachel's voice betrayed her deep sadness.
"Goodbye." Rita hung up quickly before she blurted out the entire story. She took in some shaky breaths before starting to cry. She was really going to miss Rachel.
New York, U.S.
Simon was feeling very pleased with himself when he walked up to Luke, who was leaning against the side of the building in the alleyway with his hands shoved into his pockets. The misery was etched on his face so clearly, and Simon reveled in that he'd put it there.
"Who shot your dog?" he asked, approaching. Luke turned his head to see him, and his jaw twitched.
"Who's the target?" he countered, ignoring the question and pushing himself off the wall now. Simon handed him some papers, and he took them, flipping through them a moment later. Simon hooked his fingers on the loops of his pants and looked around casually as he waited. He wondered how far Rita had run. She hadn't returned to New Orleans, he'd checked that. She hadn't been at the farm either. She legit was afraid of him still, which had never felt so good.
"It's legit?" Luke asked. Simon got aggravated every time he asked that question. Who cared if the target was legit or not? A kill was a kill. Orders were orders.
"Yes."
"You sure?"
"Yes, Luke," Simon said with an annoyed sigh.
"What's the plan?" Luke asked finally, handing the papers back now. Simon took them and walked over towards the barrel across from them, pulling out his lighter.
"Get him on his way from the cafe," Simon answered, setting the pages on fire and holding them as they burned until the flames were two inches from his fingers. Then he dropped it into the barrel and watched it finish burning to ash.
"Stick and run," Luke confirmed.
"Yea. I'll be your eyes."
"Fine."
Simon looked over his shoulder at Luke, and again, he felt so happy at Luke's misery and distress. Rita had meant an awful lot to him, so he could only imagine the pain Luke was feeling at losing her. This was better than killing her. This way, Luke would never know where she was or why she left. That torture was so much worse. He cleared his throat.
"Wanna get a drink after?"
"I'm good," Luke answered, moving to walk away.
"Did you get a hold of your housekeeper?" Simon asked, unable to help himself. He saw Luke's shoulders stiffen slightly, but he didn't turn around.
"Yea, she's coming by later."
Simon knew it was a blatant lie, but he let Luke have it. He wasn't supposed to know about Rita after all, and the jig would be up if he revealed he did know her. That might make Luke look more closely at him.
He didn't want that.
"Twenty minutes," Simon said now, starting to walk in the direction of the cafe. "I'll call you." He walked a few strides before turning around.
Luke was already gone.
...
Luke reached the outside of the cafe before their target was scheduled to exit. His phone rang, and he answered.
"Set," he said.
"I don't have eyes yet," Alex replied. "Stand by."
"Copy. No cameras?"
"Not right here."
"Okay."
Luke waited, his fingers moving up and down the blade in his hand that was tucked under his sleeve a bit. It was crowded enough on the sidewalk that no one would notice him. He had his aviators on and a ball cap for added measure.
As he stood there waiting, he wondered if he'd lost Rita because she couldn't take his job anymore. What puzzled him, though, was that she would have told him. She wouldn't have just left. The only other thing was the fact he hadn't made a decision about their living situation yet. He regretted the timeline he'd given her now. He wished he could go back in time and just quit when she first mentioned she couldn't do long distance anymore. How could he have been so stupid? Was the job really that important?
"He's on the move."
Luke casually started to walk, his phone pressed to his ear. He was ahead of the target now. He felt that rush of blood and adrenaline start that always came before he took someone's life.
"Right behind you," Alex said now. "Wait, he stopped."
Luke kept going, melting into the crowd.
"Still stopped. He's tying his shoe."
It would be the last thing the man would ever do. Luke wondered how he was going to feel about that or if it would even cross his mind as he died. He wondered if the man would have regrets for all the murders he'd done or if that didn't bother him. The man's file had disgusted him, made his blood boil. The world would not miss him; people would be saved down the road.
"You're out of his sight," Alex advised. Luke turned around now, feigning that he forgot something and heading into the direction of the target. He saw the man stand up finally and start walking towards him.
"Confirm," Luke said.
"Red blazer, white cap," Alex confirmed.
Luke felt the knife in his hand as though it were made of lead suddenly. His breath quickened, but he kept his pace the same. When he reached the target, he moved so fast that one would have to be paying extreme attention to see it, that all they'd comprehend was a man accidentally bumped into another man. The knife was soon tucked back under his sleeve, and he heard exclamations of people behind him a moment later. He was far enough away to not appear suspicious for not investigating what was going on. He slipped out of sight not long after.
"Good work," Alex said. "Target is down and lights out for good. Enjoy the rest of your night."
Luke snapped the phone shut and made his way home. There, he cleaned the knife up and washed his hands, making sure no blood was left on his clothes and burning what did. Once he finished, he leaned his hands on the kitchen counter and tried to breathe.
A vague memory was playing in his mind right now. It was pieces of one, really. He could see his mother...they were in a very sunny place by some water—somewhere that wasn't in England. He saw her pull something out of her bag and then stumble into someone before pulling him away with her quickly, him looking over his shoulder to see that person fall to the ground.
He let out a soft scoff. He'd attended his first stick and run a long time ago apparently. He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes briefly. He'd been made for this, programmed by his mother and step-father his whole life. How could he ever have thought he'd have the chance of living a different life, let alone have someone to love?
He released a shaky breath and stood up straight. Rita was gone, and he was empty.
He might as well keep being the assassin he had been programmed to be.
British Columbia, CA
Three Months Later
Rosie was smiling. It had been a long time since she had a reason to, but she was feeling okay today, and seeing the fawn toddling after its mother just melted her heart a bit. She kept hiking, finding the waterfalls easily enough and sitting down cross legged on a rock to watch them for a while.
No one was chasing her, trying to kill her, or threatening her. She was free. For now. Rosie still had it in the back of her mind that it could change on a dime at any point in time, that her father's threat could come true, but for today, she was going to enjoy the freedom.
Rita was doing well with Luke the last time she'd checked. Luke was still doing jobs but not harming innocent people. She was reconsidering approaching him about changing to doing extractions instead. Her team was good, and they were saving people. That made her feel good. She knew there were some collateral damage on extraction missions, but her team did their best to keep it to a minimum. A swift in and out was the goal.
Yes, things were good. She missed Lance and still got slapped with grief whenever she thought of him, but she knew he was with her always. She rested a hand over her heart then, thinking of how wide his smile used to get whenever he saw her. She hoped he was in a better place and waiting for his family to eventually join him.
Her phone rang, and she frowned. She was surprised to get any cell service at all, if she was honest. She saw it was Wes and answered.
"Yes?" she said. "You're disrupting my inner peace."
"Rosie," he said, out of breath. "Something's happened."
"What do you mean?"
"Rita and Luke...they're not together anymore."
"What?!" Rosie lost all of her calm and happy feelings, and now she was sitting boltright up tenser than a bow string ready to fire. "What do you mean not together? What?!"
"I have no idea what happened," Wes said. It sounded like he'd run a marathon. She could hear a car door slam now. "I went to check on Rita, and the apartment is no longer hers. I went to New York and found Luke alone. I've watched him for a few days, and Rita is not here."
"Maybe she just moved?"
"No. I did some digging. I went back to New Orleans, and I went to where Rita worked. Her boss said Rita had left three months ago and didn't know where she went."
"So...where is she?"
"I have no idea."
Rosie felt panic. Had something happened to her daughter? Had Luke done something? She'd murder him...
"Find her," she ordered.
"I'm working on it. She's not coming up anywhere." Even Wes sounded a bit alarmed now, which didn't help Rosie's anxiety.
"Check out all car rental places, train stations, airports," Rosie listed, walking down the trail. Her mindful afternoon was now shot. "She had to go somewhere to leave the city."
"I have," Wes replied softly. "No one has seen her, and besides, this was three months ago, Rosie. No one would remember anyway."
"She can't just vanish!" Rosie exclaimed, feeling anguish inside. She couldn't lose her daughter too. Not again.
"She did."
"So she used a fake name then."
"She must have."
"I don't get it," Rosie said. "Why would she leave him?"
"Long distance doesn't work for everyone."
Rosie felt anger towards Luke then. He should have pulled it together and chose his wife over his work. Then she had to stop and calm herself because she'd chosen work over her family, but she'd been left with no choice. He had a choice.
But, her inner voice said, you could have chosen your family after Zeke died...
Rosie swallowed hard. She waffled on that choice because she had originally made it so as to not be hated by her daughter and keep her safe, just in case, but she did wish she could have a relationship with her.
"We have to find her, Wes," Rosie said now. "I think something's wrong."
"You don't know that..."
"My gut tells me so, and I'm listening to it," she cut him off.
"Okay. I'll look harder."
"Thank you. I'm on my way."
They hung up, and Rosie ran to where she was parked. She had a long way to go, but she wasn't going to give up. She'd find Rita or die trying.
Illinois, U.S.
Rita looked at herself in the mirror, wondering what her neighbors thought of her being a single pregnant woman. It was a small apartment complex where everyone seemed to know everyone; she kept to herself aside from pleasantries in passing, just not up to making friends. She was just at the five month mark now in her pregnancy, and she was showing, which had caused some whispers in the building. She decided that she didn't care what they said or thought.
It felt strange at times to carry around a little human being inside of her, but she loved it. She talked to him all the time. She'd refused to find out if she was having a boy or a girl, deciding to find out at birth; her gut told her it was a boy.
And she knew just what to name him.
"What do you think, Brendan?" she asked, smoothing a hand over her bump. "Do I look okay today?" A little kick in response made her smile. She loved feeling him kick or move. The first time it had happened, she'd been so startled and thought something was wrong only to laugh and cry when she realized what was happening. She'd cried more knowing that Luke was missing it.
"Alright. I'll take your word for it," she responded to her son. She went to pull on a light cardigan and headed to the door, grabbing her keys and purse on the way by. It was warm out, but the air conditioner in the building she worked at was very cold.
"Hullo, Rose," her boss said when she walked in.
"Hi, Chuck," she replied. He gave a half smile, still not looking at her. He honestly reminded her very much of Patrick Warburton, right down to his deep voice. She went to put her things in her locker in the back before going to join him. He was reviewing his inventory, frowning at the pages as he flipped through them.
"Oi, Chucky," Dave said from his favorite bar stool. "What's a guy gotta do to get a refill, huh?"
"Not call me Chucky," Chuck muttered, closing all the pages now and sighing heavily. "Rose, you mind?"
"I got it," Rita answered, going over to pour Dave another whiskey. She had to admit, she had not foreseen herself working at a bar, but she needed money to pay rent and eventually school. She didn't know when she'd get the chance to do it, but she was determined to. She wasn't going to barkeep forever.
"You're the best, doll," Chuck said as he walked past to go to his office and get some work done. It was the cusp of rush hour, but Rita didn't mind.
"English Rose," Dave said now, giving her a look that slightly creeped her out. "What brought you over here?"
"My parents," she answered.
"Ah, she's witty!"
"Bugger off, Dave," Jody warned, slamming a newly filled napkin dispenser onto the bar top with a loud clang next to him and making him jump.
"I was just playing," he whined.
"Play somewhere else," Jody snarked. When he slunk off, she muttered to herself, "Putz."
"Thanks," Rita said to her. Jody was hot and cold with her moods, but she was a lot friendlier to Rita than anyone else. She was dark haired, blue eyed, tall, and slightly overweight with what seemed to be a permanent tan.
"Anytime, girl."
Rita still wasn't used to being called Rose, but it was her fake name that she now lived by, and she had to stick with it. There was no way she'd have Simon find her. With a name like Rita Vrataski or even just Rita, she felt like she stuck out, and she couldn't have that.
"How's our little guy doing?" Jody asked now as Rita lined up the now clean glasses.
"Growing," she answered. Jody just nodded. She'd asked about the baby daddy a few times in the beginning and getting vague responses in return, so she didn't bring it up anymore.
Rita prepared for the rush, and it soon delivered. She didn't mind the mindless work, really. It kept her busy, and being busy meant not thinking about Luke and aching with missing him, wanting him, or needing him. It also meant taking a break from the guilt of keeping his child from him, but Rita was also still angry about that video. She still had it tucked away, waiting to find someone to analyze it for her. She wasn't sure why she needed proof that it was real other than she needed to have a valid reason besides Simon as to why she ran away.
Before long, a fight broke out, and Chuck went to deal with it. Rita ignored it and kept on serving drinks. She was tired, her feet were throbbing, and her back ached, but she kept going. She had to.
The only other option was to sink into a depression so deep she'd never escape because this time, she didn't have Luke to help pull her out of it.
New York, U.S.
"Let me GO!"
Luke's feet led him to the door down the hallway without him telling them to. He'd had enough of this. Ever since the couple moved in three weeks ago, all he'd heard was fighting, and he'd seen the woman walking around sporting bruises that could not be explained by a fall. It was time to end this.
He knocked on the door loudly, turning his head to see his other new neighbor looking down the hall from his apartment. People moved in and out of here on a regular basis it seemed. Luke ignored him, pounding his fist on the door again since no one had answered.
"WHAT?!" the man roared, finally yanking the door open. Luke could see the woman in the background cowering and crying on the floor. He saw red, but he kept his cool.
"I think you need to leave," he said.
"I think you should f*** off," the man retorted, going to slam the door. Luke blocked it with his steel toed boot, and it bounced off and narrowly hit the man in the face.
"You need to leave," Luke said again. "Right now."
"F***. OFF," the man said loudly. "Get your own wife to deal with however you want to. Let me deal with mine the way I want to."
Luke's jaw was so tight it almost snapped, but he still kept calm.
"Leave. Now," he said, firmly and strongly. The man reached out and gave him a hard shove, and there was his opening. His fist shot out like a blur, and the fight was on. The woman was screaming at them both as they fought, kicked, and rolled around on the floor. Luke was releasing his daily pent up anger over losing Rita, and it felt good to beat the shit out of someone without killing them for once.
"Break it up, break it up!" a voice called. Luke was yanked off, and he looked to see the other new neighbor standing there now. "I've called the cops. You're out of here, Mickey."
"You can't do that! I've done nothing wrong!" Mickey shouted.
"Look at her face!" Luke roared, pointing at the woman, who indeed had a major bruise blossoming on her right side of her face. "You did that!"
"Abby, you tell them I didn't do nothin'!" Mickey bellowed at her. Abby began to bawl and talk nonsensically. Luke was done with this. He grabbed the man and hauled him out kicking and swearing. The other man stayed to help Abby. When Luke got to the street, Detectives Meers and Lasky were pulling up. Obviously they'd been closer than the beat cop on call.
"Well, well," Meers said as they approached. "What have we here?"
"A bastard who likes to use women as a punching bag," Luke answered. "Get him out of my sight."
"He attacked me!" Mickey exclaimed, pointing at Luke.
"Only after you touched me first," Luke retorted.
"Did you get a good shot in, Detective Wright?" Lasky asked, snickering. Mickey's eyes widened in shock, his mouth gaping.
"Yea," Luke confirmed, holding Mickey's gaze. "I did."
"We can tell," Mears scoffed. "Alright, tough guy. Let's get you downtown."
"You'll look after the missus?" Lasky asked Luke.
"Yea, I got it."
Luke gave a half wave as his colleagues shoved Mickey into the back of the squad car after cuffing him. He made his way upstairs to get his forms before going to the apartment where Abby and the other man were talking quietly.
"Hi, Abby," Luke said. "I'm Detective Luke Wright. I can take your statement."
"I don't wanna press charges," she said quickly. Luke sighed slightly and pulled a chair closer to him to sit on. The other neighbor hovered, listening.
"Listen," Luke said gently, "I know it's hard to think about leaving or giving him a consequence he richly deserves. I know he's got good qualities in there deep down somewhere that you're hanging on for, but trust me when I tell you that it will only get worse. Do you really want to end up dead?"
"No," she said almost in a whisper. A noise to their left showed a four year old girl peeking out of her bedroom door. It broke Luke's heart, and it gave him a flashback of doing the same thing after his parents had fought. He remembered the confusion and fear. He remembered wondering if his mother was going to one day die by Johnny's hands. He was feeling a bit triggered, in this moment, as he held the girl's gaze and saw every thought and emotion he'd ever experienced in her shoes be reflected back at him.
"Do it for her," he said to Abby. "If you're gonna do it for anyone, do it for her. She deserves to be free from fear. Trust me, I know."
He turned his head from looking at the girl and locked eyes with Abby, feeling like she understood he was sharing a personal thing with her. She licked her lips and nodded slowly, then vigorously. Then she started to cry.
"Mumma," the girl said, rushing to comfort her. Abby picked her up and held her close.
"I still need your statement, Abby," Luke told her. Abby nodded once more. Luke looked at the other man now. "Yours too, mister...?"
"Warren," the man said.
Luke studied him. He'd moved in about a month and a half ago. He was stocky, British, and had short brown hair and blue eyes. He looked familiar, but Luke couldn't figure out why. Even the way Warren was looking at him, it was as if he was waiting for Luke to put it together. Well, he couldn't right now. It would have to go on the back burner until his mind wasn't fogged over with grief and anger.
"Alright, Warren," he said carefully. "Just sit tight, and I'll get to you."
"Okay."
Luke went back to focusing on Abby, who was trying to coax her little one back to bed so she could talk to him alone. His mind went to Keira for some reason. He didn't know why. This whole bloody thing was bringing up too much of the past for him, and it was making it hard to breathe.
"Can you state your full name, please?" Luke asked, clicking his pen.
"Abigail Rita Dawson," she answered. His hand froze, and his breath caught in his throat. The image of his Rita swam in front of his vision, and he blinked it away. He cleared his throat roughly and gave himself a mental shake as he wrote the name down.
"Are you gonna call social services?" she asked now, and he exhaled slowly.
"Unfortunately, with an incident like this one, I have to notify them," he answered. "I'm sorry."
"They'll take her away," Abby whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Not if you're doing everything right," Luke advised. "If anything, they'll help you keep her safe from him."
"Yea?"
"Yea." He just hoped Abby wasn't hiding a substance problem or some other issue that would deem her unfit to social services. He didn't want her to lose her daughter.
"Date of birth?" he asked next. He wrote down all the answers, focusing on her story instead of his own issues. Soon enough, he wasn't thinking about his pain at all and was just hell bent on putting Mickey away for a while.
It was a bit of a relief.
Illinois, U.S.
Rita got home late feeling exhausted and with sore feet. She took breaks to sit when she could since both Jody and Chuck didn't want her to overdo it. Rita felt fine, though, but she heeded their caution anyway.
She changed into pajamas, tossing her booze stained blouse into the sink to soak. She would wash it in the Laundromat later with her normal load. It was aggravating how drunk people managed to slosh their drinks on her all the time. She didn't mind her small apartment, but sometimes, she wished she had something bigger so she could have her own washing machine and dryer.
She groaned as she sat on the couch and put her feet up. She'd kill for one of Luke's foot rubs, even if it did mostly tickle her. The ache clawed its way up her throat until it was tight, and tears pricked her eyes.
"Stop," she said out loud. "Stop missing him."
Her words echoed in the empty space, but it didn't change anything. She pressed a hand to her face. She was beginning to realize that she was never going to stop missing him despite being so mad at him. She couldn't stop her mind from visiting one of her favorite memories—his kiss in the library...their first official kiss. She breathed slowly, letting it become sharper in her head.
Rita still felt the bookshelf pressed against her back and his mouth on hers...his jacket in her hands. She could still see the look in his eyes after finally telling her how he felt. She felt the rush inside of her at finally being his and him being hers. She could even taste the remnants of the gum he'd chewed beforehand.
She opened her eyes, making it all disappear. Taking a few shaky breaths, she rested a hand on her baby bump.
He was going to miss everything. There was a pile of guilt on her shoulders for this, but her fear of Simon was too great, even if she could get past that stupid video. Despite getting here without noticing him following somehow, she still looked over her shoulder for him. No way was she letting him hurt anyone else in her family.
"Dad," she whispered, tearing up again slowly. "I really miss you, and I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
Tell me everything...I'm listening.
She could hear his voice from all the other times he'd told her he was listening. She imagined him sitting next to her, waiting patiently. They'd had a lot of talks over the years when she was growing up. She'd always appreciated that he included her in a lot of things, even if she wasn't quite ready for some of them.
"I really wish you could meet your grandchild," she went on, still smoothing her hand over her bump slowly. "I wish you could teach him all about cars and animals and life. I hate that you're never going to get that chance...that my child is never going to get that chance." She took in some shuddery breaths before continuing. "I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't fight, but I couldn't, Dad. I couldn't...not without risking hurting my baby, and I couldn't do that." She started to cry again. "I miss him so much, Dad. I hurt everywhere from missing him. I can't believe he'd say those things about me...that he'd even think those things about me..." She buried her face in her hands, crying harder. Having wild hormones didn't help her either. As she sat there crying, she wondered if Luke was even giving her a second thought.
New York, U.S.
Luke sat down heavily at his small kitchen table. He stared at the bottle of whiskey in front of him. He was not a drinker. He didn't do this. He wasn't Johnny.
But tonight...he really just needed to forget.
His mother's screams and cries and pleas to Johnny echoed in his head as he poured a glass. All those times hiding behind the couch or under his bed...all those times feeling helpless and angry as Johnny beat on her or raged about something ridiculous...the memories throbbed throughout him, making him feel like he could start to cry.
He held the glass in his hands, smoothing his thumb along the rim. Then he looked to where Rita would normally be sitting if she were there. He could see her now, hands folded on the table in front of her and an empathetic look on her face. She'd tell him that he'd done a good job with Abby tonight and to not take on the problem as his own, that he'd done all he could do and that was enough.
Finding the farm, Lance, her...it had given him so much, and he'd gone and lost it all piece by piece. He closed his eyes, trying to stop from reliving each moment where he'd lost them.
The bunt to his leg made him look down to see Remi looking back up at him, her tail swishing back and forth slowly. For such a little cat, she definitely made her presence known.
"Hey, girl," he said, reaching to scoop her up into his lap. She purred under his hand, reaching to bat at his glass in his other. "Not for kitties...sorry." She mrrowed in protest, and he downed it easily before setting the glass down on the table. He caught his breath after, going to pour another when Remi quickly put her paw on his arm. He froze, looking at her again and wondering if she knew what she was doing or if she was simply playing a game. Her eyes were unblinking as she stared at him.
"I'm alone, Remi," he said, "and it hurts so bad I can barely breathe. Let me have this." She didn't move, so he removed her paw and reached for the bottle. Remi jumped up onto the table and put herself in between the glass and the bottle, rubbing her back against the underside of his arm. Then she came over and stood at the edge of the table, her face level with his. Luke wanted to laugh. He let out a strangled snort instead since his throat was so tight.
"Fine," he conceded, his voice slightly choked. "Have it your way then." He pulled his hand back from the bottle, and Remi sat down and continued to stare at him as if daring him to try and pour another glass still.
"You must be mad at her too," he said after a moment. "She abandoned you as well."
He'd tried to find Rita by looking into all the places one would go to travel (bearing in mind she'd probably used a fake name...either new or one of her old ones), but no one had seen her when he'd showed her photo. It was like she'd disappeared. A fleeting thought that she'd been killed crossed his mind, but he had proof from Rachel that Rita had left alive and well. She'd intentionally walked away...without a note to boot. He hadn't bothered to contact Kenny and Lucy. He knew Rita wouldn't want them to know they'd broken up just as much as he didn't want them to know. He'd also gone to the farm to look for himself discreetly and without them knowing he was there, and she wasn't with them. All the memories of the farm had hit him hard and fast when he'd been there, and he hadn't stayed long. It just hurt too much.
Remi didn't move, just stared at him. He stared back. Then he sighed.
"What movie do you want to watch, cat?" he asked, getting to his feet. Remi jumped off the table and darted for the couch ahead of him. It wasn't what he'd had planned, but maybe it was for the best.
As he sat down and gathered Remi into his lap to cuddle, he wondered if Rita was missing him at all.
...
"Anything?" Rosie asked, and Wes shook his head with a heavy sigh. They were in his apartment, and Rosie could almost feel Luke's anguish coming through the walls. They were one down from him and across the hall.
"Nothing," Wes confirmed. "For someone who was never shown how, she's become a ghost."
Rosie drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. She tried to put herself in her daughter's shoes. Where would she go? What would she be thinking?
"I saw Luke tonight," Wes offered now. She snapped her head at him.
"I thought you weren't going to do that?"
"It was kind of hard when the lady down the hall was getting beat on by her husband. I couldn't just stand by."
"Well...did he recognize you?"
"He didn't seem to, but he had a lot going on, so he might figure it out later. I gave a fake name."
"Don't socialize with him," Rosie warned.
"I'll just keep an eye on him," Wes promised, holding up his hands. Rosie didn't want Luke to see her either, so she hid herself in the apartment.
"I'm going to go back to New Orleans," Rosie said now. "Maybe there's something I missed."
"You've combed it twice now," Wes argued. "What could you possibly be missing?"
"I have to be missing something since I can't find her!" Rosie exclaimed, and Wes gave her a sympathetic look before resting a hand on her shoulder.
"She'll turn up," he told her. "I know it."
Rosie wanted to believe him, but this world was just too big. She knew that. However, it hadn't been big enough to hide her and Lance, so maybe there was hope after all that she'd find her daughter.
As small as that hope was, Rosie held onto it with all of her might.