Troubled Waters

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Troubled Waters Page 21

by Jerry Cole


  Darren fell forward and collapsed on Ness’ chest, his head resting on Ness’ shoulder.

  “Oh babe,” Ness whispered in Darren’s ear. “That was more than I ever dreamed.”

  “Welcome home.”

  “You’re my home. Your arms are my home,” Ness sighed, happily.

  They held each other silently, and then Darren raised himself up on one elbow. “I think we’d better get cleaned up. And I don’t know about you, but after that workout, I’m starved.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  They struggled out of bed.

  “You can hit the shower first,” Darren offered.

  “Oh no, together,” Ness insisted.

  Laughing, and slowly gathering their strength, they stumbled into the bathroom.

  ***

  The next few days Darren played tour guide to Ness, showing him both regular tourist sites and his own favorite and more out-of-the-way treats. They would lay in bed till nine or ten, get up, shower together, have a leisurely breakfast, and waste most of the morning goofing off before heading out for an afternoon of long lunches and sight-seeing.

  It was just about as perfect a time as Darren could have wished for. He kept meaning to call his mom for Ness to say hi, but it always ended up being put off until the next day. But their trip to Antiqua was fast approaching, and even though they were still enjoying exploring the city, they were also looking forward to the lethargy of a beach vacation.

  Darren enjoyed taking Ness out to his favorite restaurants—ranging from Thai, Ethiopian, or Japanese to some hole-in-the-wall, pop-up restaurant that would suddenly appear and disappear, announced only that morning via Twitter. One evening, sometime after Ness had arrived, they went to the meatpacking district, just north of the West Village, for dinner at a small bistro sandwiched in between two meatpackers. It was an intimate restaurant that served a daily set menu. The young chef was a friend of Darren’s, and she had been wildly successful, helped by his investment. They were enjoying a delicious and creamy lobster bisque.

  A subject had been on Darren’s mind for some time, and he felt this was as good a time as any to bring it up. “I know we’ve not talked for a while about the future,” Darren started, “but since your tour was so successful, I was wondering what was in store for you. Have you discussed this with Philippe?”

  Darren could tell right away Ness was not comfortable with this subject, which did not bode well for his answer. Ness put his spoon down and folded his hands in his lap. Darren could tell he was preparing to speak.

  Finally, Ness looked up and said, “We have. But we’re still considering all the effects of the tour. I know Philippe is fielding many inquiries, requests, and offers. It’s going to take a while to sort it all out, but it’s clear we are on a roll and Philippe will want to take advantage of every viable opportunity. As will I,” Ness added, soberly.

  “So that means more of the same?” Darren said softly.

  Ness blinked and nodded. “I’m afraid it does, Darren. And I know that will disappoint you.”

  “I was hoping we would be able to spend more time together. Begin to create our life.”

  Ness put his hand on top of Darren’s. “You know the reality of the situation.”

  “I do. But I was hoping now that you are so successful, you could be more in control of your own time. Be able to set aside more free time—family time—our time.”

  Ness sighed. “Darren, we’ve been over this before. I don’t know how else to make this clear to you. My career is my first priority. Please accept that. What we have together is grand, but it must, unfortunately, always take second place.”

  The waiter came to take the soup plates. “Your entrees will be right out.”

  “I’m sorry,” Darren said. “I know the situation. I just thought that maybe something had changed. I know how exhausting and frustrating your life can be as a star, and I’d hoped you might have shifted your priorities after the rigors of the tour.”

  “Can we just let this be for now? Please?” Ness asked. “Let’s enjoy the time we have together. We have our vacation coming up and the rest of the month—a very long time, Philippe assures me—so let’s just enjoy that and live in the moment. There’s no way we can know what the future will bring.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Now, can’t wait to try that lamb dish.”

  ***

  Darren tried to empty his mind of his concern for their relationship. Ness was right—there was no point in dwelling on the future. Live in the moment. He knew that was the way to live. As they left the restaurant, Darren took Ness’ arm and they began to walk down to the West Village where Darren wanted to take Ness for an after-dinner drink at one of his favorite, atmospheric bars.

  The meatpacking district transitioned from a commercial area to a more residential zone. The evening was pleasantly warm, and a breeze was coming off the Hudson River. They started walking down a quiet residential street when Darren heard footsteps coming rapidly from behind. He turned to look. Three men started walking more quickly toward them. They did not look friendly.

  “Ness, let’s get out of here.”

  Ness turned to look, and they both started running. But the men started running too. Suddenly, Darren tripped over an edge of raised section of sidewalk and fell forward. His glasses flew off, and Ness stopped to help him up, but he was not quick enough, and the men caught up with them.

  “Fuckin’ faggots,” one of the men shouted. They were carrying broom handles like street kids playing stickball. They started beating Darren, who was still down. Ness grabbed one of the men and snatched the broom handle from his hand, knocking him backward and making him lose his balance. A second man came from behind Ness and turned him aside and pushed, forcing Ness to fall and strike his head against a tree. It stunned him, but didn’t knock him out. He fell to the ground. The second man stood over Ness and put his foot on his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground.

  The other two men continued to beat on Darren, pounding him with their sticks. Darren was scrunched up in the fetal position his hands and arms protecting his head.

  A car turned into the street from the far end. The headlights illuminated the scene, and the men turned and saw the car coming toward them.

  “Let’s get the fuck outta here,” one man shouted. The three turned and ran as fast as they could to the other end of the street.

  Ness was able to stand, and he flagged down the car. A man opened the passenger side window. “Please, we’ve just been mugged and my friend is hurt. Do you have a phone?”

  “Sure do,” the man answered. “I’ll call the police.”

  “Thanks. And tell them we need medical assistance too.”

  Ness turned back to Darren. He kneeled down and checked Darren’s pulse. He was unconscious but breathing. Ness picked up Darren’s glasses and put them in is coat pocket.

  “You’re gonna be okay, baby,” Ness said as he took hold of Darren’s head and turned it toward him. “I’ll take care of you. You’re gonna be fine.”

  “They’re on their way with an ambulance as well,” the man called out from the car. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  Ness didn’t know what to do for Darren; his head was bleeding and he was unresponsive. Ness was not feeling good himself, and he had to sit on the pavement and take several deep breaths.

  A couple saw them and ran over. The man asked, “What happened?”

  “Mugging,” Ness answered. “The police have been called.”

  The woman went over to Darren. “I’m a nurse. Let me check him.”

  “Please.”

  She turned to Ness, “You don’t look too good either.”

  “Been better,” he almost laughed.

  Sirens were heard and soon a police cruiser and an ambulance turned into the street and came to a halt beside them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The hospital monitors
beeped quietly in the background. Darren’s head was wrapped in bandages, as was his left hand. His eyes were closed and he was receiving oxygen.

  Loretta sat beside the bed. Tyler stood next to her, his hand resting on his father’s. Mia stood at the end of the bed.

  Doctor Chu stood opposite. “Your son received multiple head injuries. He’s in a coma, and we’re monitoring him closely.” She reached over and put her hand on Darren’s head.

  “When will he awake?” Loretta asked.

  “There’s no way to know.”

  “And his friend, Ness?”

  “He’s being evaluated and treated in another room. He’s going to be fine.”

  “How serious are Darren’s injuries?”

  “It’s hard to tell just yet. There’s significant brain swelling, which we’re aggressively treating. We should know a lot more within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Until then, we just need to be patient and watch him closely.”

  “Thank you, doctor. I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”

  Tyler turned to Loretta after the doctor left. “Is Daddy going to be okay?” he asked, with tears in his eyes.

  “I’m sure he will be,” Loretta stated unconvincingly.

  Tyler got up on the bed and lay down beside his father, not taking his eyes off of him.

  The door opened and Ness came in. He had a bandage on his head, but it was not as extensive as Darren’s.

  “Oh, Ness,” Loretta said. “How are you?”

  “Just a bump. Nothing serious.” He pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the bed and put his hand on Darren’s arm. He teared up. “I’m so sorry. I should have been able to do more—to protect him. It just happened so quickly and we were outnumbered. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s in a coma, and they don’t know when he might come out of it,” Loretta said.

  “What did the police say?” Mai asked. “Was it a hate crime?”

  “They believe so. But what puzzles me is why they focused their attack on Darren. All they did to me was prevent me from interfering in the attack.” He turned to Loretta. “Any word on the investigation? Have they identified the attackers?”

  Loretta shook her head. “Not that we know of.” She regarded Ness. “Don’t you need to lie down? You don’t look too well.”

  “I’m not leaving him. I’ll be here till he wakes up,” Ness said, steadfastly fixing his gaze on Darren’s face. He reached up and brushed away a strand of bandage that had fallen over his forehead.

  ***

  Three days had gone by, and Loretta was curled up in her chair, asleep. Tyler was again beside his father, and Ness was in his chair with his head on Darren’s bed. Mai was stretched out asleep on a sofa.

  Darren’s left hand twitched. Ness had been holding it and it woke him up. He sat up and looked at Darren who turned his head to the left and then to the right.

  “Darren?” Ness said.

  That woke both Loretta and Tyler. They looked at Darren.

  Darren’s eyes flickered and then opened.

  “Get the doctor,” Ness called out.

  Loretta pressed the call button. A nurse appeared.

  Ness turned to him and said, “He’s waking up. Should the doctor see him?”

  “I’ll get her.” The nurse left.

  “Darren?” Ness asked, again.

  Darren looked around the room. “We’re having a party?”

  Loretta and Ness laughed. That woke Mai.

  “Yes, my dear. We’re having a coming out of a coma party in your honor.”

  Darren reached up and touched his head. “What the fuck?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Ness asked.

  “Sort of. We were walking from dinner. Some guys…”

  “Yeah, beat the shit out of you.”

  “Don’t think I want the details,” Darren said softly.

  Loretta put her hand on his arm. “Not to worry, sweetie, just rest. We’re so glad you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare.”

  Darren turned to Ness. “And how are you?”

  “Not too bad. For some reason, you got the brunt of the attack.”

  Darren reached out with his left hand to touch Ness and then saw his hand was bandaged. “Ouch. This too?”

  Dr. Chu came in. “Hi, Darren. I’m Dr. Chu. Let’s take a look.” She went over and gave Darren a quick examination. “Nice. Nice. Looks like it’s going to be a solid recovery.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Darren said.

  “You were very lucky. Look how quickly you pulled out of that coma. We’ll need to do some more tests now that you’re awake. I’ll come back shortly.” Dr. Chu left.

  Darren squinted. He reached up to his face. “Has anyone seen my glasses?”

  Ness snapped to. “Oh, I have them.” He went to his jacket and pulled out the glasses he’d picked up after the mugging. “Here.” He handed the glasses to Darren.

  Darren put them on. He blinked and took the glasses off. “These aren’t mine.”

  “What? I picked them up right next to you.”

  “This is not my prescription.” He looked at the glasses. They were tortoise shell like his, but were shaped differently. He looked at the temples, the part that went over the ears.

  “Could they be from one of the attackers?” Loretta asked.

  “Here’s the name of the optometrist, and what looks like a number.”

  “Maybe a customer number,” Ness suggested.

  “We should get these to the police. Might help them find at least one of the attackers,” Loretta said, taking out her phone to call.

  Dr. Chu came back in. “Okay, young man we’ve got to get you all tested up so we can get you out of here as soon as possible.”

  ***

  It was only three more days before Darren was released. Loretta accompanied Darren and Ness back to his penthouse. It was decided she would stay in the guestroom for a few days until they were sure that Darren and Ness could fend for themselves.

  There was no way Darren and Ness could take their Antigua vacation, as neither felt fit to travel, and both were still suffering from the trauma of the attack. Dr. Chu had told Darren, especially, to keep a lookout for symptoms of PTSD.

  The day after Darren was released, Detective Moretti, the officer handling the case, called them. He said he had some very significant news, and knowing that they were still recovering, offered to come to the penthouse to deliver it.

  Loretta ushered the detective into the penthouse. Moretti was a heavyset, balding man in his fifties. But one could tell immediately he was sharp and knew his job.

  “Gentlemen, ma’am,” he greeted.

  “Won’t you have some tea?” Loretta brightly asked.

  “No thank you, not partial to the drink myself,” he said.

  “A whiskey, then?” Darren offered.

  “Not on duty, thank you.”

  “Anything?” Loretta asked, her duty as hostess unfulfilled.

  “Coffee would be fine.”

  “Of course.” Loretta, much relieved, went to the kitchen.

  Darren led the detective to the living room, with its panorama of windows overlooking Central Park.

  “What have you got for us?” Darren asked.

  Loretta shouted from the kitchen. “Speak loud enough for me to hear.”

  The detective chuckled. “I will, Mrs. Davis.” He turned to Darren and Ness. “I have to say, we had nothing on your attackers until you came up with the glasses.”

  “Thought they’d be useful,” Darren said.

  “The optometrist was able to look up the customer number on the frame and we contacted the individual. Of course, he denied any involvement. We asked to examine his glasses, and when we checked the prescription, it matched yours. In the scuffle, he’d lost his glasses, and when he ran off he’d picked up your glasses instead of his. When confronted with the evidence, he spilled all the beans.”

  “Who was this character, and were you able to learn the motive
? Was it a hate crime?”

  The detective shuffled forward in his chair. “This is where it gets interesting,” he said.

  Loretta brought in the coffee. “Cream? Sugar?” she asked as she handed him the mug.

  “Black, thank you.”

  Loretta sat to hear the rest of the story.

  “It seems one of your attackers worked at Thornton Enterprises.”

  Loretta gasped. “Thornton?”

  Moretti nodded. “Yes. Not sure of all the circumstances, but it seems Mr. Davis wanted to send you a message, or exact some kind of revenge. He conspired with one of his staff members, and whatever thugs he could muster, to give you a good beating.”

  “That’s outrageous,” Darren exclaimed.

  “And Mr. Davis thought that by assigning his task to a perceived thug in his employ he could avoid any responsibility. However, his thug squealed like a little piggy and we will be prosecuting all the attackers, and also Mr. Davis.”

  “Excellent,” Loretta exclaimed.

  “Ah. However, I wouldn’t get too pleased just yet. I’m sure Mr. Davis has a bevy of high priced lawyers who will easily get Mr. Davis off the hook. You know how big money works.”

  “Well, having a lot of money myself, I’m afraid I do.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest…”

  “That’s fine. I take full responsibility for my own excesses from time to time.”

  “So for the three thugs?” Ness asked.

  “They will surely be convicted of battery and assault, unless Mr. Davis chooses to pay for their defense—but that is highly unlikely.”

  “Well, I’m glad this is over,” Darren said.

  “But Thornton—how can we ever have anything more to do with him?” Loretta asked.

  Moretti had a last word. “We will require you to be present and testify at the trial, both of you,” he said to Darren and Ness.

  “I certainly can,” Darren said, “but Ness will be leaving the country soon. He’s a Greek citizen and has a very busy schedule in Europe.”

 

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