18th of January 2006
“Yes, he’s got a long way to go, and we will make sure he gets all the help he needs, either physically or mentally,” I concluded with a sigh, “If you will excuse us now.”
I flinched, only mildly surprised as the crowd that had hung on every word I had spoken, suddenly, exploded in a discontent clamour. The press was most clearly not satisfied with my fake description of what happened and what was happening now. Well, too bad for them. I had enough to deal with without the media frenzy. I didn’t think I’d given too much away. And in the end, there wasn’t really all that much I could tell them anyway.
Looking over the crowd, I saw Kevin in the far corner, nodding sternly. He was not at all fazed by the uproar in the crowd and motioned to the backdoor. I nodded back, glad that at least Kevin was satisfied with how I had handled the press conference. And by the time Kevin was satisfied, most people were.
“But… but…?”
“How did you…?”
“Where had he…?”
“When were you…?”
I could only hear half of the questions they spew and I raised my hands in an attempt to calm the anxious crowd.
“When we know more, we’ll be sure to let you know,” I muttered. Without a second look, I turned around, ducking under Q’s outstretched hand to be led out of the room. It was almost like half of the country had filed in when we announced that I was going to do the press conference.
It’s sort of what happens when you disappear from the face of the planet for two months straight without a clear explanation, I guess. I shuddered as the crowd only got more nervous at my absence.
“Mr. Dorough! Wait! What about…” was the last thing I heard when Q slammed the door of the car shut with an exhausted sigh. He quickly took a seat beside me and instructed the driver to take off. Sitting back, I let my head fall against the window, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
“Did I already tell you how much I appreciate you getting here on such a short notice,” I told Q, glancing at him from the corners of my eyes.
“Oh well,” he mumbled, “I am still the group’s bodyguard, technically. This is what I get paid for,” he said bitterly and I frowned. It had occurred to me that Q had taken it upon himself to make sure to do his job with double as much effort as he had done before. He didn’t trust most of the other bodyguards and security to do it for him anymore. I suspected he felt like he needed to make up for what happened to Brian. I suddenly felt sorry for him, considering none of this was his fault in particular.
I just nodded slightly, facing the window again, “Yeah but still, we only announced the conference this morning, I really appreciate you could come.”
Q shrugged, frowning. We hadn’t really told him what happened, although he had been working for us for more than ten years. I knew he was dying to know, but kept quiet. At least until we almost arrived at the hospital.
“So how is he?” He questioned, a worried expression betraying his otherwise nonchalant features.
It was my turn to shrug, “I don’t know. It’s just gonna take time, I guess. A lot of time.”
I really didn’t wanna talk or think about Brian right now.
Ever since he’d woken up, everyone expected us to know how he was. But the truth is, I really don’t know. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t even move all that much. He just stares.
It’s really uncomfortable sometimes and I don’t know if his silence is because of the possible brain damage doctors warned us about, or if it has its roots in whatever happened that night in the Westminster Hotel. It seems like the only time we can make sure there is some life left in Brian, is when Baylee is in the room.
The boy is only three years old, and it’s hard to tell if he noticed a change in his father at all. And if he does, he doesn’t seem bothered by it. He’s the only one that can somehow interact with Brian, which makes me hope that maybe things will turn out alright after all.
I softly stepped into the room, greeting Brian with my eyes, hoping for some kind of recognition, but receiving none. He only blinked and then turned his gaze back to the young boy sitting on the end of the bed. Baylee was lively telling an intriguing, but unintelligible story, waving his hands about in gigantic gestures to emphasize his points. Brian watched his son intently and nodded every now and then in confirmation. I could swear there was a small smile creeping up on his face the longer and the louder the small boy continued his story.
Mesmerized, I almost jumped in shock when I heard Harold clear his throat. He was sitting in the back of the room, quietly observing his brother and nephew. I hadn’t seen him before and turned swiftly to face him. Neither father nor son paid any attention to the noise Harry had made, and I listened as Baylee talked about a gigantic cookie Kevin gave him, in an excited voice. I’m not sure Brian actually understood anything Baylee told him, but now I can definitely tell there’s a smile on his face.
Tearing my gaze from the scene on the bed, I turned to face Harold once more, giving him a questioning look. “How long?” I asked him.
“Hmmm, almost fifteen minutes now,” Harold replied, glancing at his watch with a smile.
“Hmm,” I contemplated, “Must be a new record.” I slowly lowered myself down on the chair next to him “Damn, that boy can talk.”
“It’ll get a little better every day,” Harry said with a hopeful smirk. “Wonder where the boy gets it from.”
I smile too as we watch Baylee almost tumble off the bed in excitement, throwing his hands up in the air to describe just how enormous the cookie really was. “I hope he manages to stay on the bed.”
Harold nodded absently, his eyes suddenly glazing over, “How’d the conference go?”
I sighed, my smile turning into a frown, “It didn’t. God, I wished I could tell them something to get them off our backs. They just won’t believe we know as little as they do.”
Harold nodded again, his gaze far away, “Yeah, that doesn’t help much,” he muttered “Didn’t AJ’s contact at the police work out?”
I shook my head resignedly. “Not yet, he’s... Peter's not in the criminal database. We’ll just have to dig deeper, I guess,” I spoke quietly, almost whispering. Although I didn’t believe Brian would react in any way if he could hear us, I didn’t want him to know we were talking about him.
“Yeah…” Harry’s voice trailed off as he suddenly shot upright, “Bay, don’t do that!”
Baylee twirled around with big eyes and dropped his father’s hand in shock at Harold’s authoritative tone. He gulped, his bottom lip quivering as he looked at his uncle, then back at his father, who’d finally closed his eyes again. Harry’s gaze softened and he raked a hand through the little boy’s curls, “Let him sleep, Bay.”
The child dropped his gaze and nodded, sitting as still as a statue while he kept a careful watch over his father. I sighed helplessly at the heartbreaking scene. Baylee knew when to keep quiet, even as young as he was. He was a good boy and would make one hell of a good man one day. Now that he knew Brian hadn’t vanished into thin air, he hadn’t let his Dad out of his sight. He went absolutely crazy whenever Leighanne came back to pick him up and head back to the hotel. I watched in silence as Baylee trained his gaze on his father’s sleeping face, neither one of them moving an inch.
Well, fifteen minutes was a nice new record.
“You know what would work?” I asked silently, tearing my eyes away from Brian and Baylee and looking at Harold instead, my eyebrows raised.
“What?” Harry asked, still looking at the bed.
“If we had some way to break into his mail, or something like that,” I mused, not believing I didn’t think of that before.
“How?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “It was just a thought.” I sighed discouraged, “We don’t even know where he hid his phone.”
“I’ve got his phone,” Harold said with a frown.
“You… what?” I quipped, a look of pure confusion etched into my face.
“I have it, it’s in my bag,” Harold replied casually. I stared at him for a few good seconds before jumping up in anger.
“You’ve had it practically this whole time?” I shrieked incredulously.
“W-Well, yeah, I guess,” Harry muttered, doing his best to avoid my heated gaze, “I mean, he left it at my house when he came by that day. I assume he just forgot it.”
“And you didn’t think it was the least bit important to tell us about it?” I panted my voice in a falsetto I’ve never even dreamt of reaching.
“There’s nothing to say,” Harry defended, his eyes big now, shooting from the bed, back at me. Baylee gave us a deathly stare, as if he wanted to say that if he had to keep quiet, we had to do it as well.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice only a little lower this time, “What about his mail or something.”
“There’s nothing there,” Harold explains slowly, “and here’s where it really gets strange. Just before he left, Brian got called on his cell. He completely freaked out after that. But when I checked, there was nothing that indicated he’d been called. It was really strange.”
“Maybe he deleted it,” I frown.
“He couldn’t have. He basically flung the phone through my kitchen window after that call. It’s just luck the phone still worked after that. I practically turned that thing inside out, trying to find answers, but there was just nothing. Except one thing… it still doesn’t make sense…”
“What?” I asked in a strained voice, still angry at Harry for not telling us he had had his brother’s phone the whole time. I impatiently waited for him to stop rummaging through the duffle bag he always had with him.
Triumphantly, he pulled out a battered, cracked cell phone and held it out for me to see.
“Look, there’s nothing in the inbox, but there are several messages going out. Most of them don’t make sense. I think the crash on my kitchen tiles has bumped them up a little.
But there are a few… they’re… they’re just creepy.”
I nodded, snatching the device from his fingers in an instant, flicking through the messages. “What the hell?” I mumbled as I carefully read them.
Gotta get out.
There were several of these, each saying the same thing, every single one. “You didn’t think this was worth mentioning?”
“To confirm what? That my brother was just as crazy as we all already assumed?” Harry replied, “What would it have mattered?”
I shook my head in dismay, clenching my jaw in withheld anger. Harold could be such a clueless idiot sometimes. I kept shaking my head until I reached the last message.
It was an accident.
“It was an accident,” I read aloud, looking up to stare at Brian.
It was an accident.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I guess we're back at Howie again. We're getting closer and closer to the truth now.
Chapter End Notes:
okay, there's a BIG thing that's not right in this chapter, with earlier mentioned information. (and no, I do not mean the phone messages)
Do you know what it is?
Leave a review and i will confirm or defy your suspicions
Do you know what it is?
Leave a review and i will confirm or defy your suspicions
