by Emelia Blair
She is about to fork some eggs into her mouth when her eyes fall on the wall clock, and she makes a small sound of distress. “I’m late!”
Her fork clatters on the plate as she pushes away from it, regretfully. “I have to leave. I’m sorry!”
I grab a container from behind me and quickly put her food in it and thrust it at her. “Here. You can have it later. But eat something.”
She stares at me and then at the container before commenting, “You’re very domestic.”
She dances out of reach when I make an attempt to grab her, laughing.
She puts the container in her purse and then looks slightly hesitant before reaching up to give me a quick kiss on the lips. “Bye!”
And she is out the door before I can do anything else.
I stare around the empty apartment and sigh heavily. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Fergus.”
8
Sarah
I move among the children, fixing caps, straightening jackets, cleaning smears on faces. Fixing them up, I arrange everyone to stand in a group, letting the photographer do his thing.
As soon as the bell rings, everybody breaks formation and races for their bags and rushes outside.
I sigh.
Since I took a day off yesterday, I have to stay back to fill out some paperwork for the office. Locking up the, I sit next to two young teenagers outside the admin’s office and start filling in the forms.
“Are you in trouble, too?” one of the boys asks, grinning.
I look up and blink when I see they are identical twins. “Kind of. Shouldn’t you two be going home?”
One of the boys shrugs his shoulders. “We spray painted Mr. Carson’s car.”
“He told Lily that women look better when they’re not asking so many questions,” his brother pipes up. “In class. While she was asking about the voting rights of women in the eighteen hundreds.”
I put down my form. “Isn’t he teaching the gender studies course at the high school?”
The boys nod.
I pick up my pen and resume filling in the form. “Then I hope you keyed the car too.”
The boys snicker and then ask, “Who are you waiting for?”
I don’t look up. “I teach in the elementary section. I took a day off.”
“You’re a teacher?”
The bafflement in their voice is very flattering, and I grin, pleased.
“Boys!”
Hearing a familiar voice, I look up to see a tall figure walking down the hall towards us in high heels.
“Agatha?” I blink at the curled golden hair and the subtle makeup. Her blue eyes hold annoyance in them, which vanishes when she spies me.
“Sarah? What are you doing here?”
I hold up the form. “I teach here. Are these your sons?”
Agatha raises a brow. “They wish. I’m friends with their brother. You’re lucky I haven’t told Ian what you two did,” she tells the two boys, who look guilty.
“You want me to drop you somewhere?” she asks me, and I shake my head.
“I have to meet Mr. Daniel.”
Agatha tosses the car keys to the twins. “Go wait in the car.”
The boys wave at me and rush off.
Agatha sits down next to me. “So, you and Fergus, huh?”
My eyes widen. “Why, what did he say?”
She laughs. “Nothing. This is the first time I’ve seen him chasing a woman. He really likes you.”
I shift in my seat, admitting, “I like him too. A lot.”
I could see that she wants to ask something, but she stops herself. “We should hang out sometime.”
When she stands up, I ask, trying to be discreet, “Um, Agatha, did you and Fergus, ever…”
I trail off, leaving the question hanging in the air.
She blinks at me and then bursts out laughing. “Oh, God. No! Never. He’s more like a brother to me!”
I feel relieved and Agatha, still chortling, puts a hand on my shoulder. She gave me a kind smile. “Fergus isn’t the type that will cheat or hurt you intentionally. He’s a good man.”
I purse my lips. “Is he really just a bartender?”
I’ve noticed a few things that slipped out of his mouth, and they are eating at me.
Agatha grins. “Is that what he told you?”
I nod.
“Tell you what; why don’t we go out for dinner on Friday night? I’ll pick you up. There is this amazing restaurant near my house.”
I frown. “What does that have to do with my question?”
She grins at me. “I’ll answer all your questions there.”
As she walks off, I stare at her retreating back.
I turn my attention back to the form I was filling in and let out a heavy sigh.
Finishing the form and getting done with my meeting where I am chastised that if I had to take a day off, it is my duty to inform the school beforehand, I grab my purse and start home.
My car is still in the shop, so I have to take the bus today. As I climb off at my stop, I tuck my hands in my jacket and feel some relief at the fact that it has at least stopped snowing.
I am nearing my house when I see a man standing on the road across from building, staring up at it. About to dismiss him for just being weird, I get a look at his face, and I freeze.
“Roy?”
He turns to look at me, and I see no trace of the young boy I often patched up after he fought with his friends.
He looks uneasy at seeing me. “Sarah.”
I stumble towards him. “I’ve been looking for you!”
There is a dried brown stain on his shirt, and I remember what Fergus told me about him. However, I force my surge of fear aside. “I need your help.”
Roy frowns. “Why would you be looking for me?”
“It’s about Bryan.”
Roy’s eyes harden. “Forget it, Sarah. I can’t help you.”
Desperation pushes me towards him, and I grasp his jacket as he turns to leave. “Please, Roy! I know you know where he is!”
He pulls away from me and glares at me. “Are you fucking stupid? He’s as good as dead!”
My eyes fill with tears. “He’s my brother, Roy. Don’t say that.”
I know Fergus described him as a monster, but right now as I look at him, I see a hint of the boy who cried in my arms after his mother died at such a young age. I see the boy who let me take care of him when he was at his loneliest. I see his expression softening reluctantly.
“Look, Sarah. Bryan did something stupid. He fucked with the boss. There’s no coming back from that. I can’t help you.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “What if I take him away from here? We’ll move somewhere far away. Just tell me where he is, and nobody from Street Serpents will ever see us again. I have savings. We can start over somewhere else.”
Roy growls at me. “You don’t get it, do you? As far as anything matters, Bryan’s dead. He might be alive right now, but not for long. I just came here looking for you to tell you to stop asking about me. I got word that you were making inquiries at Ritters about me. I’m not going to help you.”
My heart sinks, and bitterness seeps in. “Did your friends complain to you before or after they put a date rape drug in my drink?”
Roy’s face turns white. “They did what?”
I glare at him. “Yeah. They drugged me, and when I was going home, they cornered me. It was the bartender who helped me out.”
Roy doesn't say anything for a few moments. Then, he shakes his head. “You’re a good person, Sarah. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to have to hurt you. But if you don’t stop looking for Bryan, things will get ugly.”
After delivering his threat, he walks away, and I stare after him. My body numb. My mind in shambles.
I don’t know when I walked into my apartment or how I got in.
After locking the door, I lean against it and my body crumples to the ground as I break down, hopelessness sur
rounding me.
If Roy refuses to help me, I have no other way to find out where Bryan is.
I sit by the door for a long time, even after my tears dry up.
There is no one I can turn to for help.
No one who could help me find Bryan. No one who has those sort of resources.
It is quite late when I finally drag myself to bed, leaving my belongings on the floor, not caring.
Shutting off all the lights, I let myself be surrounded by the darkness, waiting for sleep to make me forget.
At some point, long after I lay in bed, I hear the phone ringing, but I stare listlessly at nothing in particular. I have no desire to answer it.
The next few days pass like this.
I don't eat or drink, just stay in bed, my heart broken in a way that even thinking hurts. I hear Seth’s muffled voice reaching through my closed door.
I just huddle under my blanket, tired of the world, wanting some form of peace, not wanting to think of the baby brother I nurtured over the years, trying not to think of when he would nag at me, or hug me, or cuddle with me, trying to be extra clingy to annoy me.
I am never going to hear his voice again. I am never going to hear him pester me with that tone that he has just for me. I will never wake up in the middle of the night and have hot cocoa in the kitchen with him and talk about the most random of things and laugh with him.
He is gone.
The tears flow down my cheeks, unchecked, and it feels like someone is using a knife to carve my heart, slowly. I find it hard to breathe.
Lack of food and water has me weak, and finally, self-preservation kicks in, and I get out of bed, trudging to the kitchen. There is some fruit yogurt in the fridge, and I take out a spoon and slowly eat it, not tasting anything, my eyes dull.
I see my phone on the ground, its battery empty, and in the back of my mind, I wonder what day it is.
Some food in my belly and some water, I walk over to the couch and curl up on it, closing my eyes and dragging the throw over me.
I must have fallen asleep because it is the banging on the door that wakes me up. I blink, groggily.
“Open the door, Sarah!”
I recognize Fergus’s voice, but I make no move to open the door.
“Sarah!” He sounds upset.
My body moves of its own accord, and I turn the lock, opening the door.
He looks frustrated, but when he sees me, all the anger vanishes from his face and quick fear replaces it. “What happened?”
He pushes his way in, and I stare stupidly at him before sighing and going back to the couch. “Go away, Fergus. I don’t want to see anyone right now.”
He grabs me by the arm, his grip firm but gentle. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”
I don't have the strength to shake his arm off. “Just go away.”
His mouth goes flat. “Did I do something?”
“What? No!”
Fergus cups my face in his hands, and I feel my heart quiver with the pain that has been brewing inside me for the past two days. “A ghrá, what is it?”
I push at him, but it is like shoving at a brick wall, my voice thick with tears. “I don’t even know what that means!”
He lets me hit at him, and then grabs me by the back of my neck in a gentle hold and drags me to him, putting his arm around my waist.
I struggle for a few minutes, wanting him out, but he holds me close. “Cry if you want to. I’ve got you.”
The dam bursts again, this time more wildly.
He moves to settle on the couch, pulling me into his lap and just stroking my hair. He doesn't say anything, just holds me. My crying jag goes on for a while until I run out of tears, my cheek nestled on his chest, my ear right above his heart.
Maybe it is because I am tired, or maybe his steady heartbeat and the warmth emitting from his body calms me down. I still lean against him, and he asks, “Want to tell me what happened?”
“I met Roy,” my voice rough.
I feel his stiffening form, but he doesn't say anything, so I continue, “I asked him about Bryan. And he refused to help me.”
I slowly reveal my encounter to him, and then my voice cracks, “Roy was the only chance I had. I have no other way of finding him. The police aren’t helping. They think Bryan skipped town. And I don’t know how else to find him.”
Fergus is silent, and then says, “What if I told you I might be able to help?”
I pull away from him immediately to stare at him, trying not to get my hopes up.
“What do you mean?”
He studies me, his gaze not wavering. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about a few days back. I might have resources that could be of some use.”
“What kind of resources?”
“The thing about servers and waiters, Sarah, is that nobody notices them,” Fergus says. “So, they know a lot of things and secrets that people accidentally reveal.”
My eyes widen, and I let a sliver of hope seep in. “You think the servers at Ritters could have overheard something? Would they be willing to help me?”
Fergus uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away. “I won’t give them a choice.”
I frown at that. “What do you mean?”
He brushes back my hair. “I’ll fire them if they withhold information.”
“You can’t just… wait, what? Can you do that?”
He winces. “So, funny story. You remember how you assumed I was the bartender?”
“Assumed?” I echo.
He gives me a sheepish look. “I kind of own the bar.”
I stare at him, stunned. “Then, what about the restaurant where you work part-time as–”
“I own that, too.”
When I try to pull away, he holds fast, refusing to let go. “It’s not like I lied to you.”
“You let me think that you were struggling to make ends meet! I gave you five–” I glare at him. “I want my tip back!”
He laughs at me.
The stupid jerk laughs at me before he kisses my cheek with a loud smacking sound. “You’re adorable!”
He opens his wallet and shows me a neatly folded five-dollar bill tucked in the see-through sleeve. “You’re not getting this back.”
I shake my head at it. “That’s a weird thing not to tell me.”
He studies me. “You’re not angry?”
I glare at him. “I’m angry about the five dollars I gave you. But aside from that, I don’t care. I don’t know why you wouldn’t just tell me, but you were under no obligation to.”
I take a deep breath. “You can’t lie to me about this, though. Do you really think you can help me find Bryan?”
He nods. “I have a few other friends who have some connections. I’ve already told them to start digging. But, if Roy did come here looking for you, then you can’t stay here anymore.”
I get up and rub my arms, nervously. “This is my home, Fergus. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“What about friends?”
I shake my head. “I can’t put them through this. And none of my friends knows about Bryan going missing or him having joined the Street Serpents, at all.”
“You could stay with me,” he offers, slowly.
I still and then swallow. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ve already dragged you into my life and my problems as it is.”
He stands up as well, his hands in his pockets, giving me an amiable smile. “You’re right. It would be best if I just overworked myself at the bar and the restaurant and then came here every night to check up on you to make sure you’re not dead or kidnapped or worse. That sounds reasonable to me.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Nobody’s asking you to check up on me.”
Fergus leans on the arm of the couch, straddling it. “I don’t know if you know how relationships work but making sure the other person is still alive is part of it.”
“We’re not in a relationship,” I mutter, but it comes
out more as a question. “Are we?”
Fergus watches me. “Well, we slept together. I like you, and I’m attracted to you, and as you so eloquently put it, I have a crush on you. And same’s vice versa. I think that sounds like a relationship to me.”
I frown. “Aren’t we moving too fast?”
He shrugs. “Not everything has to be defined by timing. Also, I don’t think you’re in the frame of mind where you would want me to take you on dates right now. Because, let me tell you, if I start wooing you, I’ll woo your socks off.”
“That’s low standards. Even for you.”
His hand moves before I can see it and I feel the playful swat on my ass, making me jump.
“Ouch,” I protest, more for show than anything.
“I’m serious, though, Sarah.” His tone sobers. “If you want me to keep my hands off of you, I’ll try to do that, but my building has better security, and I don’t like the idea of gang members crawling all around your block.”
I take a shuddering breath. “Is there no other option?”
He moves his shoulders. “I’m open to suggestions.”
I have nothing, so I sigh. “I’ll pack a bag. But only till I find Bryan. Then, I’m moving back. And then I want you to at least attempt to woo my socks off.”
I hear his laughter as I go to pack a few things.
The smile slides off my lips as I enter my room, and I swallow.
The hope that Fergus held out to me, I am reaching out and grabbing it.
I have no other choice.
But if even Fergus’s attempts turn out to be fruitless, then I have a sick feeling that I might never recover from this loss.
9
Fergus
My penthouse already has a guest appearance, and she doesn't seem to be in a hurry to leave.
Agatha sits in pajamas dotted with small kittens, holding a cat in her lap, on a huge sofa, in front of the television. Her golden hair is set in rollers, and her face is covered with a green mask.
I sigh. “I thought you left.”
She waggles her fingers in greeting at Sarah and pops some popcorn in her mouth. “My contractor told me that I was a delusional control freak if I thought it would take three days to complete the work on my apartment.”
