Clenching and unclenching his fists as they make their way toward the pair, Joey reminds himself to remain calm. Rick is here with him. Maisie needs him. He can do this. Then he is surrounded by a cloud of Charlotte’s perfume as she hugs him. When she lets go to turn toward Rick, Joey shakes hands with Carter.
“Where’s Ian?” He looks over Carter’s shoulder at the room he presumes is Maisie’s, but the curtains have been pulled and the door is closed.
“He’s just in there with Maisie and the doctor. He should be out soon.” Carter pats his shoulder and excuses himself to go and talk to the police officers.
“How bad is it?” Rick asks.
Joey sees the look Charlotte throws in his direction and clenches his fists again, a bubble of anger forming in his chest. He can’t even visit a friend in hospital, a friend who needs him, without the specter of Blake hanging over him. Of course, it’s because of Blake that the friend is in hospital but right now that’s a point Joey finds immaterial. All that matters is that regardless of what he does, he cannot escape Blake or his past. He’s not sure what Charlotte sees in his expression, but she finally answers.
“It’s not life threatening but it’s not good. Three broken ribs, dislocated jaw, cracked cheek bone.” She pauses to take a deep breath. Joe catalogues each injury against his own. Guesses what Charlotte is about to add. “Broken hand from being stomped on. Cut all their hair off with a knife.”
“Did he rape them?” Joey’s voice is expressionless even in his own ears.
“Ba-” Rick begins but Joey shakes his head.
“Well? Did he?”
“No. He didn’t, thank God.” Charlotte looks like she might cry. “But they have a ruptured testicle, probably from a direct kick.”
“Jesus.” Rick, looking somewhat green, slips his arm around Joey. “Has Maisie been able to give a description or any details or anything?”
“It was dark and they were hit from behind.” The answer comes from behind Carter. Ian thanks the doctor before coming around the group and continuing. “Whoever it was wore gloves and a mask.”
“So it could have been anyone?”
Joey can see the last spark of hope die in Rick’s eyes when Ian shakes his head.
“No. He must have thought Maisie was unconscious because when he was done he said “that should get the little shit’s attention.”
Joey staggers to the bank of chairs lined up against the wall and puts his head in his hands.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“No, no its not.” Ian’s voice is calm, mild even. Joey frowns. “Danvers is the only one responsible for this. The problem is, there’s no D.N.A., no fingerprints, no witnesses and Maisie can’t give a visual identification.”
Rick pats his pockets, finds what he’s looking for and pulls out Joey’s phone. Holds it out to Carter as he explains the message. When Joey laughs - a high-pitched, desperate sound that echoes around them - everyone turns to look at him.
“It’s an unlisted number and could be from anyone.” He looks at Carter and shrugs. “It’s not but I can’t prove it.” He rubs his own damaged fingers against his jeans, unaware of the action “Yeah, he was sending me a message.”
Dropping wearily into the seat beside him, Ian takes his hand. This close, Joey can see gray in his stubble and his short hair. Black circles beneath his eyes. Can feel his fingers trembling around his own. In that moment he knows how scared Ian is, how much he loves the beaten and broken man behind that door and wishes he could do something – anything - to comfort him. To fix this.
“I don’t blame you Joey and neither does Maisie. They want to see you.” Ian looks up at the rest of the group. “The doc says they can’t have too much noise or excitement tonight so maybe you guys could wait for later when we get the all clear.” He stands, pulling Joey up with him, tucking his hand under his arm. “Come on.”
“Tell that brat to heal quick, okay?” The gruff words are followed by a loud sniff and Rick clears his throat. Charlotte offers him a watery smile.
As they approach Carter, Joey hesitates then makes a decision. “Later, if I give you a name and a contact number could you check and see if someone is okay? Someone he might have hurt.”
“Yeah. Yeah we can do that.” Carter steps out of the way.
Ian pushes the door open and steps back.
Taking a deep breath, Joey steps inside.
♦♦♦
The only sound in the gloom is the gentle whoosh of the respirator helping Maisie breathe and the regular beep of the heart monitor. Their left arm is in plaster while the right has an array of cannulas and IV tubes attached to it. The sheets are draped over some sort of box no doubt intended to keep them away from Maisie’s injured genitals.
When Joey’s gaze settles on Maisie’s hair, he sucks in a breath, unable to hold back tears. The long, unruly curls are gone; only a short, jagged thatch of hair remains. Maisie’s normally fine features are swollen, black, blue, and bloodied. One eye is swollen shut. The ear on that side is bloodied and it takes Joey a second to realize one of Maisie’s earrings has been ripped free.
“Hey, ‘ugar. You cay’.” With their uninjured hand, the one beneath the IV unit, Maisie beckons Joey closer. “Co’ si’ ’own.”
Ian smiles so Joey approaches. Perches on the side of the bed and strokes Maisie’s forearm with one finger.
“I’m so sorry.”
“F’ker b’k my mowf. An’ my ba’s.” Maisie flicks their eyes to Ian and gives him a stoned smile. “Hey dad’y.”
Joey sniggers in spite of himself. Even stoned on pain killers with a broken mouth and swollen genitals, Maisie is all about the sass.
“Hey, ‘ugar?”
Joey wipes his eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Don’ cr’. Not ove’ tha’ pric’. Jus’ hai’, i’ wi’ g’ow bac’.”
“Yeah, it will.” Joey blinks away another flood of tears. “It will be even more beautiful than before.”
“Da’ ri’. ‘Ugar, you ’e car’fu’ out the’. He’s ba’.”
Joey nods. “I know. I will be.”
Maisie swipes their tongue over their torn lips. “You le’ dad’y Ri’ loo’ af’er you.”
“Okay.”
Ian approaches and taps Joey’s shoulder, before placing a gentle kiss on Maisie’s forehead.
“You need to rest. I’m going to go say goodbye to everyone and I’ll be right back.”
Joey lets himself be herded to the door, then turns and blows a kiss to Maisie. He gets a small huff of laughter in response.
Back in the corridor he buries his face in the crook of Rick’s shoulder, fighting for calm. One hand is cool on his neck as Rick rubs his back with the other.
“Thank God you made me get that medical power of attorney,” Ian says. Carter retorts something about on occasion knowing what he’s doing.
“Just marry the damned boy, Ian.” Rick snaps. “That’s what it’s for. So you don’t have to keep jumping through fucking hoops. How are they?”
“About as good as you can be when you’ve had the shit kicked out of you.”
“Will they be able to fix the rupture?”
“We won’t know how bad the damage is until some of the swelling has subsided but it’s not like we’re planning on getting pregnant, you know?”
“What I can’t figure out,” Charlotte says, “is how he figured out who Maisie is? And how the hell he found them.”
With an exasperated sigh, Joey pulls out of Rick’s embrace and turns to face the group. What does he have to say to make them understand?
“You know what? When you’re all ready to listen to me I’m going to be in the cafeteria.”
Lifting his chin in defiance, he turns on his heel and stalks down the corridor.
♦♦♦
Rick
Charlotte moves as if she’s going to follow Joey. Shaking his head, Rick grabs her elbow.
“No. I’ll go in
a minute.” He glances at Ian. “How are you holding up?”
Ian’s smile trembles and he passes a hand over his eyes, but his eyes are dry when he finally speaks.
“I’ll be happier when we throw that fucking prick behind bars, but as long as my boy is going to be okay, I’ll be okay.”
Rick isn’t fooled by Ian’s calm – he doubts anyone is. He’s known him for twenty-five years and the only time he’s seen him rattled was the night Rick introduced him to Maisie. For reason’s he’s never fully understood, Rick knew Maisie was right for Ian the moment he met them. Ian, convinced nobody could ever be interested in him or what he termed his foibles, had been bordering on a panic attack by the time Derek buzzed to say Maisie had arrived. Rick had watched as Maisie stepped from the elevator, dressed in soft black pants, heeled boots, and a skin hugging red t-shirt. They’d pulled their long hair to one side to show off high cheek bones and eyes rimmed in black and bright blue. Before Maisie had even had a chance to purr “well hello Daddy” to Ian, Rick could see they were both smitten.
A breathless phone call from Ian a week later to tell Rick that Maisie loved his doll collection had sealed the deal and the two have been inseparable since.
Rick puts his arm around Ian’s shoulders. “Take more than Blake Danvers to break your brat. They’re stronger than they look.” He kisses Ian’s temple. “Need me to bring you back some coffee? Sandwich?”
“Coffee would be good. Thanks.”
Rick glances at Charlotte, flicks his eyes at Ian and back to her. She nods.
“Coffee for us too please. I wouldn’t say no to a donut or something if they have any.”
He gives her a brief nod acknowledgment and makes his way down the corridor, stopping to get directions to the cafeteria. Knowing Joey, he followed the smell of sugar. Smiling at the thought he takes the stairs rather than the elevator; he can give Joey some time. Four flights later, panting as he pushes open the door, it occurs to Rick that giving Joey some time might have been a mistake.
The cafeteria is all but empty. Heart in his mouth, Rick scans the area. An older woman sits behind the register reading a magazine and sipping from a coffee cup. In the corner a group of white coated youngsters seem to be arguing over a pile of folders on the table in front of them. Out on the patio, a man is smoking a cigarette in the dark. By the far door, a kid is slumped at a table picking at a muffin.
“Fuck!” He’s about to leave again, hand already in his pocket to pull out his cell phone in the hopes the location app will deliver a second time, when he’s drawn back to the kid at the other end of the room.
It’s Joey. Head resting on his hand, he looks younger than his twenty-eight years. Everything about him screams exhaustion and Rick promises himself that as soon as this mess is finally dealt with, he’s going to take care of him the way he should have. The way he deserves.
Without a word, he pulls a chair out and sits down. Waits.
“Do you think Finn’s okay?” Joey asks, still picking at his muffin. He’s only eating every second or third morsel, the rest are forming a small pile on the plate. It’s like the muffin is being deconstructed crumb by crumb. Rick holds back a bark of laughter.
“She’s probably asleep on your pillow.”
“I wish I was asleep on my pillow.”
Rick reaches across the table and closes his hand around Joey’s fingers as he picks once more at the cake. Sliding around the seats until he’s next to him, he brushes the palm and fingertips free of melted chocolate. The cup next to the plate has what looks like hot chocolate in it; it’s still half full. Rick pushes the massacred muffin away and pulls the drink closer.
“Drink your chocolate, baby boy.”
Without protest, Joey takes a sip. A second. Puts the cup back down.
“You were right. We should have listened to you. I’m sorry.”
Joey sips his drink.
“I’m listening now.”
For a long moment he doesn’t think Joey is going to answer him. When he does, it isn’t what he was expecting.
“I didn’t have many friends in school. We were from the trailer park and had no money and I guess everyone but me knew what my mom did for money. When I went to college I didn’t really fit in. Even with my scholarship I had to work so there wasn’t really time to meet anyone. Until Blake showed up.” He pushes the cup away. “Apart from Leanne, Maisie is the first real friend I’ve ever had. Maisie and you. And Finn.” Joey sighs. “He will have found the address. Watched the building. Was probably watching when everyone came over and probably followed Ian and Maisie when they left.”
“All the way to their place?”
Joey nods. “Yeah. That way he knew where they lived. He knew where to find us and probably already knew where the offices are. If you recognized him, he recognized you, believe me.” Rick shudders at the thought; he knows Danvers had recognized him at the restaurant. “I guess he recognized all of them too.” He thinks about it for a minute. “Well not Doctor Bill or Maisie, but the others.”
“But why single out Maisie?” Rick’s fairly sure he knows the answer. Joey’s right, Blake will have recognized them too, and from all the evidence is too smart to take on his former students – especially the one that is now a District Attorney. Bill Harper would be too unknown. Maisie, in their heels and makeup, must have looked like an easy target. Joey shrugs and the gesture is so world weary that Rick wants to gather him up and take him away from here. To hell with everything and everyone else. He just wants to get him out of this nightmare.
"Because he could." He rests his head his hands. "I'm the reason this happened."
"No. You heard Ian –" Rick begins but Joey cuts him off.
"I didn't say it was my fault. I said I'm the reason. And I am. If I wasn't here Maisie would be fine." When he looks up his eyes are swimming with tears. “I know I promised but I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” He hiccups and one of the doctors in the corner cranes to see what they’re doing. “Tell me what to do, Rick. Please.”
Rick pushes the hair away from Joey’s eyes then brushes his thumbs beneath his eyes, wiping away the tears.
“You’re going to start by trusting me, baby, that’s what you’re going to do.”
“But what if –”
“No, no buts. Carter has a guard on Maisie and there’s a patrol car doing the rounds by our place. You need some real food and to sleep.” Rick brushes a kiss across Joey’s mouth before standing and holding his hand out. To hell with who sees them and what they might or might not think. Joey needs the reassurance. “Let’s go home.”
♦♦♦
Once Joey is in bed, Finn's loud purr giving away his hiding place beneath the covers, Rick returns downstairs. Pours himself a large glass of bourbon and opens his laptop. For the next twenty minutes his fingers seem to fly across the keyboard as he sends three emails.
The first is to his assistant explaining what has happened and telling her that he and Joey won't be in until Wednesday. That Ian is on leave until further notice. Could she please let Jen know and if there are any problems at the office of any kind, to call him immediately. Nobody is to call Joey under any circumstances.
The second is to Mark LeGrand and he copies it to Carter, asking for a phone conference later in the day with a view to a meeting together at Southwell and Matthews on Wednesday afternoon.
The final one is the hardest to write. Takes the longest. He chooses his words with care, deleting and rewriting until he's satisfied. Finally hits send. Rick sits back, eyes on the screen, sipping his drink. From upstairs he can hear Joey moving in his sleep and knows he needs to go up there soon. But if he's right, he'll have an answer to that last email soon enough.
The email chime on his phone sounds just as the small envelope appears in the corner of his laptop screen. He clicks the icon and Blake Danvers' email fills his screen. Three words are typed above his own original message.
See you then.
Rick snaps off th
e laptop, drains the last of the bourbon, and makes his way upstairs.
He has a plan.
♦♦♦
Rick
"Does Joey know about this?" Carter crosses his legs and pinches at the crease in his slacks.
"No." Rick returns Carter's stare, confident he can win this battle of wills.
"I think that's a mistake, Ricky." Charlotte has her back to them, seeming to look out the window but Rick isn't fooled. He knows she's upset.
"You take care of your boy, Charlie; I'll take care of mine."
"Don't be an asshole." She doesn't bother turning around and her tone is as weary as her posture. "I get what you're trying to do. I get why you're trying to do it. But I think you should tell Joey."
He pinches the bridge of his nose and counts to ten. "I am trying to keep that sick fuck away from Joey, okay?"
Before Charlotte can answer Mark clears his throat.
"Considering the meeting is in about forty-five minutes, it's immaterial. Are you sure you don't want us to come with you to Barney's?" He picks up the folder on the desk and flips it open.
Rick has already read through the contract, initialed each clause, and signed it. If Blake returns home he will receive a check for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Any attempt to contact Joey in any way – even so much as a Christmas card – will result in a civil suit for breach of contract and a second one for the abuse Joey endured. Any attempt to blackmail either Joey or Rick into further payments will have the same result as will any attempt to publicize the nature of his and Joey's past relationship – or that of Rick and Joey.
"A quarter of a million dollars is a lot of hush money." Carter crosses his legs. "Do you really want to do this?"
"Your guys have any leads we can use against him for Maisie?"
Rick: (Joey - Part 2) Page 8
