Her Savior

by Sarah J. Brooks

  I was so grateful for Lisa, always, of course, but especially in this moment. With her sitting next to me, I felt stronger.

  I dialed Oliver’s number again and let it ring to his voicemail. “Oliver, it’s Becka. Listen, you were here last night, and you left this morning without saying goodbye. I also happen to notice that all of my research into Neurotova, research I’ve been trying to use to clear you, has disappeared. I can’t imagine why you would steal from me, but it’s looking like that’s the case. Obviously, we need to speak. Immediately. Call me.”

  I hung up the phone and immediately shivered, all of the shaking energy I’d kept out of my voice surging through me at once. Lisa put her arm around me.

  “Good job,” she said. “Now call that bastard Ethan.”

  I called Ethan’s number. Of course, there was no response. I was more prepared to talk this time around, and I gave him much the same speech I gave Oliver, minus a few important details. “Ethan, I need you to call me back. Some very important documents were taken from my apartment last night—something I’m sure you have some idea about—and I need them back. I need them back now. Today. If you took them as some sort of a joke, or revenge for the other night at Oliver’s, it’s not funny, and it’s not necessary. Call me back the second you get this.”

  I hung up and looked at Lisa, shaking my head. “What a fucking mess,” I said.

  I texted them both, reiterating that if they took my research, it was essential that they return it. I told them both that I would work with them in whatever way they wanted, I just needed my work back. I even tied my dissertation into it, saying that some of the data was critical to my dissertation and its completion. I stared at my phone. Nothing. No calls, no texts.

  Lisa stood up and went into her room for a moment, then came back out. She grabbed some coffee from the kitchen and brought us each a cup.

  “I called in sick to work,” she said. She set the coffee in front of me.

  “Why?” I asked, confused. It was late, but it wasn’t so late she couldn’t still get into work for the majority of the day.

  “You may want to look outside,” Lisa said gently. “But, prepare yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Just look.” She walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. We usually left our blinds open to keep some light coming into the room. I looked out and looked down at the street at the bottom of my building. My jaw dropped open.

  “What the fuck?” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I looked at Lisa. “What the fuck is happening?”

  “Apparently neither of us is going to leave the house for awhile,” Lisa said glumly.

  ***

  I pulled open the blinds and my mouth dropped. “What the fuck,” I said, more to myself than to Lisa, though she stood right beside me. “What are all of those people doing down there?”

  “They’re reporters,” she said gently. “Look, there are news vans all along the perimeter.” I looked. Every major news station in town was there. Radio stations, too. They were all milling around, talking to each other, their iPads out, some speaking into cameras, it looked like a complete mob scene. They were all standing what I’m sure they’d been told was the closest they were allowed to the front door of my building.

  “Oh my God,” I said.

  “What have you gotten us into here, Becka?” she asked. “This is more than just doing some casual research into the company you work for. It’s more than just you dating a billionaire—or two—” she couldn’t resist. “This is, like, major celebrity paparazzi or something. What haven’t you told me?”

  I was still absolutely stunned as I looked out the window. Someone shouted “She’s there!” and a flutter went through the crowd, there had to be a hundred, maybe more, reporters on the ground, all looking up at the same time, cameras flashing. I dropped the blinds as quickly as I could and stepped away from the window, pulling Lisa with me, as if they could still see me through the blinds.

  I had told Lisa the truth about everything earlier, about how Oliver and Ethan were brothers, and about how Neurotova was under investigation for animal cruelty, about how Oliver was at risk. But, I hadn’t mentioned much about Ethan when we talked before. Now, I filled her in on his piece of it. Not just that they were brothers, but that I had no choice but to suspect them equally of everything that was happening. That when she had dropped me off at Oliver’s house the other night, I had been greeted by Ethan, not Oliver, and that I had spent the evening being certain that Ethan had killed Oliver, or hurt him in some way, until he was able to convince me otherwise.

  “You’re living in a fucking spy novel,” Lisa said, shaking her head. She hugged me. “I’m so sorry. But why was Oliver even back in the house? What happened?”

  “When I got home from his house, I opened the door and thought he was you. I have no idea how he got into the house, but I had no idea how Ethan had gotten into Oliver’s house either. Apparently these two are magicians or something. He explained everything, that he had needed to leave the country to get away from the press,” I gestured out the window, “something that makes a whole lot more sense now,” and he hadn’t contacted me because he hadn’t wanted me involved.

  “All of that sounded very plausible and I was on board with forgiving him, again, until this morning when I woke up and both he and my research were gone!” I smacked my forehead with my palm. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  There was a knock at the door. Both Lisa and I looked at it as if we’d never heard such a sound before. Lisa shushed me and stealthily walked across the living room. She looked through the peephole. She turned back.

  “It’s a reporter,” she mouthed. I shook my head and collapsed on the couch. We were surrounded. “Go away!” she yelled through the door. “No comment, or whatever! We’re not talking to anyone. Get away from our door!”

  “Lisa, stop,” I said, “don’t even give them that much.” I could tell Lisa was getting pissed, and I didn’t blame her. She wasn’t involved in any of this, and yet here she was, trapped like a rat in her own home, unable to go to work or even look out the window.

  She stalked past me and opened the blinds, slid open the window. Like an amoeba, the entire mass of reporters moved as one, cameras and faces angled upwards and the sound of clicks was deafening, the flash of light blinding.

  “Fuck off!” she yelled. “All of you, fuck off! Go away and leave me and my roommate alone. Go find some Ponzi schemer or some serial killer and leave us alone. Go find some real news!” And, she slammed the screen shut and dropped the blinds again.

  I smiled in spite of myself, in spite of the look of pure rage in her eyes.

  “Go find a serial killer?” I asked.

  “Well,” she paused, searching for something more to say, coming up with nothing. “Yes! I mean, fucking fuck! We’re two grad students. Surely there’s more interesting news out there.”

  “Actually,” I said, “unfortunately I might be part of the most interesting news in awhile.”

  “Well, whatever,” she grumbled. “I mean, now I’m fucking blind from their stupid camera flashes.” She rubbed her eyes dramatically and, though I knew she was overdoing it a bit, I also knew that the black patches of light burns in both of our eyes were very real.

  “Let’s do something to take our mind off of the vultures outside,” I suggested. “We used to want to have a day like this all the time, where we could hang out in our pajamas, watch movies, eat junk food all day, have some drinks, let’s just do that.”

  Lisa hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, we don’t have a ton of food since today is grocery shopping day, but we’ve got enough crap to make it a good movie day. What do you want to watch? See what we just got from Netflix. Or we can always plug something in from Amazon.”

  While Lisa went to get food and drinks from the fridge, I grabbed blankets from my bedroom and hers, along with a bunch of pillows. I was starting to feel at least a little bette
r—as long as the reporters stayed outside and we stayed inside, I could pretend, at least for the time being, that they weren’t there.

  I dropped all of the bedding and turned on the tv, not happy with the three Netflix discs we had on the coffee table. I thought we should watch something funny, some Will Ferrell something or other. I felt absolutely numb about both Oliver and Ethan. It would be good for me to take my mind out of the crazy world I’d been existing in for awhile. I realized as I set up our fort on the couch how completely out of touch I’d fallen with my old, normal life. It might have been a little on the boring side, but there was nothing wrong with it.

  The words on the television hit me before the picture even turned on. I heard my name. Lisa and I both gazed as the picture came into focus on our too old television. The scene was complete chaos, with the words “Breaking News” in huge type across the bottom. A blond newscaster with enormous breasts was standing on the sidewalk outside my apartment. In a small picture in picture in the top right corner was a photograph of Oliver. In another small picture in picture in the top left corner was the moving image of Lisa, a moment ago, shutting the blinds. I sat on the couch and stared.

  “We have just discovered that Rebecka Jasper, reported girlfriend and unconfirmed fiancée of billionaire Oliver Weeks, is, in fact, hiding out inside her fifth floor apartment. We have confirmation from people who know her that the shadow who closed the blinds was Ms. Jasper.” At this, they showed a full screen rewind of Lisa closing the blinds.

  “Dammit!” I swore at the screen. “That’s not even me!” I glared at Lisa. “And Oliver and I are not engaged! Not even close!”

  “I love that they caught me saying they should go hunt a serial killer,” she giggled. “I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious.”

  “Yeah, they cut that part out, though, so it looks like it was me in the frame, not you. Now shh, I want to hear what they’re saying.”

  The newscaster had been going on about whatever the breaking news element was. “This reporter has received an anonymous tip that, not only is Becka Jasper one of the ringleaders in Weeks’ criminal escapades, but also that there is a rift beginning between them.” The blond woman leaned into the camera as if she was sharing a juicy secret that she had just learned and couldn’t wait to clue in her best friends. All millions of them. “We have confirmation that Becka has been working overtime trying to discredit Oliver Weeks and Neurotova because of no other reason that the world’s oldest conflict between lovers: plain and simple jealousy.”

  “What is that bitch even talking about?” I said. “She’s not making sense.”

  “It’s been known for a long time that Oliver Weeks is a playboy, always being seen with a different woman on his arm. No one is sure how long Ms. Jasper has been in the picture, but it must have made her very angry when Mr. Weeks continued to date other women and take them out to his more important public function.” She pouted as if she was thinking poor Rebecka, poor Becka with no friends who thinks her boyfriend likes her. Then, as if out of nowhere, she held up a document and my chin dropped. It was a file of my research.

  “Not only that,” she continued. “It appears as though Ms. Jasper has been secretly gathering materials that will lead to the downfall of Neurotova. We have boxes of documents such as this,” she said, dropping her voice as if keeping it secret from the crowd around her that was still gathering. “These were dropped off at KSTFN early this morning by our source. I must say, there are some very juicy details in these files, and there’s enough information, financial and otherwise, that could bring ruin to a lot of the higher up at Neurotova, to Oliver Weeks, and, of course, to the woman causing it all, Rebecka Jasper. And, we must say, if Rebecka Jasper is taking the ultimate revenge as a woman scorned, even though she may well get implicated and arrested herself in the process, well played, Ms. Jasper. Well played.” The newscaster smiled her fake newscaster smile and began a slow clap, her microphone tucked under her arm.

  “Shut this shit off,” I said. I stood up and went to the kitchen. I got a bottle of wine from the cabinet and opened it, pouring a glass. I downed the first glass and then poured another. I heard Lisa behind me.

  “Not gonna drink alone, are you?” she asked, her hand on my arm. I shook my head.

  “What the fuck is happening around here? If Oliver stole the research, why on earth would he turn it over to the media? It’ll ruin him. And jealousy? I don’t even know what the hell is going on anymore!” I yelled in complete frustration and threw my glass across the wall. It shattered, and, at the same time, the doorbell rang and a loud knock sounded on the door at the same time.

  “Who the fuck is that?” I yelled, not to answer the door, but to Lisa, though she was standing right beside me.

  “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of it.” Lisa ran to the door and looked through the peep hole. “Fucking Jesus,” she muttered. Then, in a louder voice, she yelled, “Get away from our door, you vultures! This is private property! I’ll call the police on you! You have exactly ten seconds to get your cameras and your goons and get the fuck off of our doorstep!”

  She turned to me. “We need to call the cops,” she said; this is ridiculous.

  I grabbed my phone and flipped it open. I was ready to dial 911 when my phone lit up.

  “Well what the fuck,” I said as I answered the phone.

  ***

  “Becka,” Ethan’s voice was breathless. “I watched the news, then I just drove by your place. Are you okay?”

  “You drove by? Did they see you?” The last thing I needed was for Ethan to be seen anywhere near my apartment.

  “No, I had a hoodie on and a cap. I look like I belong in a prison, but no one recognized me.”

  “But, your car,” I protested.

  “Becka, give me some credit. I borrowed someone else’s.”

  “Borrowed? Stole? Like you stole my research?” It was a feeler, nothing more, nothing less. Ethan seemed the more likely person to steal it; it was his personality. But, he hadn’t had the opportunity; Oliver had.

  His voice softened. “I didn’t steal your research, Becka. I’ve tried to tell you over and over again that I’m not responsible for any of this mess, not like Oliver has been saying I have been. And my name is in this just as deep as yours.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Think about it. I’m Oliver’s brother. How long do you think it’s going to take for the news to get bored of the girlfriend angle and start investigating Oliver’s family, including his estranged, revenge-seeking brother who used to be half owner of Neurotova? I mean, I can’t believe they started with you, quite frankly.”

  I sat down in the kitchen. Lisa looked at me and I mouthed “Ethan” to her. She crossed her eyes and made a cutting motion across her throat, telling me to hang up on him. I waved her away.

  Ethan was still talking. “Honey, Oliver isn’t who you thought he was. I’ve tried to tell you that time and time again. He stole your research. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he called the news himself to take the attention off of him and what he’s doing at Neurotova, which, I don’t need to point out to you is fact, the animal experimentation, you found that out yourself.”

  “I know,” I interrupted, “but,”

  “Of course he needed your research, but he’ll use it to twist the truth to match his version of the facts. He’s going to use you as a scapegoat. Does that sound like someone who loves you?”

  I paused, a feeling of pure acid beginning to burn in my stomach. I put my head on the table.

  “No,” I said quietly.

  “I want to see you,” he said. “I know that you need to be with someone you can trust right now.”

  I snorted. “Good luck. The media has this place canvassed. They’re crawling through the vents like mice. They’ve been knocking down the door for the last hour. I’m half expecting a drone to start poking at the window any minute now.”

  “Can you get to your roof?” he asked.
>
  “I doubt it,” I said.

  “Can you try?”

  “To what end? Anywhere we go, I’ll be recognized. And that will give the news something to really focus on. It was dangerous enough for you to come anywhere near my place. It’s probably a terrible idea for us to be on the phone!” I immediately thought of the possibility that my phone could be bugged. I looked around the room. Was that possible? Were there cameras? People watching?

  I breathed. I knew I was being paranoid… the question was, was the paranoia justifiable.

  “I’m not leaving the house, Ethan, because, quite frankly, I don’t trust you much either. I don’t have to point out to you that things between Oliver and me were going along just fine until you showed up in my class and started to try to shake things up.”

  “I was trying to get you to see the truth!” he said.

  “Were you? Or were you just using me to ruin Oliver?”

  “You keep accusing me of things, Becka, but nothing ever turns out to be true.”

  “No, but my boyfriend disappears,”

  “Which he explained,” Ethan interrupted, and it had nothing to do with me.”

  “My research gets stolen—”

  “By your boyfriend!”

  “And now there are journalists crawling all the way up my ass!”

  “Which he called!” Ethan finally exploded. “I mean, Becka, pull your head out and pay attention to who’s actually on your side here.

  “You say Oliver stole my research, but there’s one problem: Oliver would never do that. Oliver loves me. He gave me full access to his databases and to basically his entire system so that I could incorporate the research into my dissertation, so that I would have the backing I needed to pursue the invention of Protame and get a name for myself in the industry. Everything he’s done has been to help me. You, on the other hand, every time you show up, things turn to shit!”

  “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Ethan’s voice turned venomous. “How about if you take two seconds and remember that you’re a scientist. Look at the facts in front of you rather than making things up. Facts, not fantasy. What are the facts here? Fact: Oliver runs a company that has participated in animal experimentation. Fact: Oliver stole research from your home office after earning your trust. Fact: Oliver ran out on you without telling you where he was going or how long he would be gone. How does any of that suggest that he loves you? That he’s going to help you?