Forums
0
1 votes
Chapter Two
Posted by
NatlChamp
,
29 August 2012
·
622 views
“Good morning, a ghrá.” Roarke brushed his lips gently over her forehead, then her lips. She felt so cold and distant. “Wake up, baby.”
Although she never looked peaceful when she slept, she rested quietly at the moment. The night had brought many terrors for her, in her subconscious mind. Dreams he couldn't pull her out of. She had screamed and thrashed violently in her sleep, to the point where they had been force to give her the drugs she so badly hated. But she had never come out, never opened those whiskey colored eyes. The dreams tore at him, as they tore at her, and he felt something clench inside of him remembering what she had gone through during the night.
He didn't look up when he heard the shuffle of Feeney's feet, or the scrape of the chair being moved over along side his. Roarke eased himself back into his own chair, when he heard Feeney pull out his bag of nuts and start crunching, but he didn't take his eyes off of Eve.
“I keep waiting for her to wake up, and start swatting at me for having her here.”
Feeney said nothing for a moment, let the air between them settle.
'Her mind is going but she can't wake up. She's trapped.” He gently wrapped his hand around hers, lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles, before turning his eyes over to Feeney.
Emotion, in its rawest form showed on Roarke's face. Stripped, was the word that came to Feeney's mind. He couldn't ever remember seeing Roarke look stripped bare. He didn't mind admitting to himself, that it made him a little uneasy. He'd seen Roarke mad, he'd seen him in a cold violent rage. There was definitely a rage boiling under the despair, but this, this didn't have the control he was used to seeing in Roarke.
“What have you found so far, Feeney?”
“Ah, well...” Feeney shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His fingers itched at the collar of his shirt. “They, ah... well, you see...”
“Bloody, buggering hell, Feeney. How many times have I worked cases with you? You're going to shut me out now?”
Here was the ice, the frigid fury. Feeney much preferred it over the unchained, unstable rage. But it still made him want to shrink into the back of his chair.
“Well, you see... Webster...”
“Webster? IAB is in this?” Roarke's eyes narrowed as he rounded on Feeney.
"Roarke..." Feeney put a hand up to stop him, shook his head, and sighed. He couldn't even imagine what he would do, how he would react, if the roles were reversed. "Three cops went down. One is dead, two are in a coma. There is no record, no recording. IAB snatched this up and closed it in tight and fast. Webster won't even take my phone calls."
“The Commader...”
“Whitney knows that we are all way too close to this. The best thing for everybody, for Dallas, is to let IAB handle it.”
“Fuck, IAB.”
Feeney couldn't hide the smile. When he finally got his hands on Webster, he had some choice words for the man himself.
“I'm taking her home this afternoon. Summerset is just finishing up the arrangements. I don't want her waking here.”
“Good. That's good. That's right.” Feeney nodded his head, and rose, placing an awkward hand on Roarke's shoulder. “You know, I may just take some leave until this whole thing is cleared up. Be around if you need a hand with anything.”
Roarke watched Feeney leave, and thought of the work he meant to do once he was home. He thought of his equipment not seen by the CompuGuard system, and the secret room that only two people other than himself knew about. There were some things you just had to do yourself.
Although she never looked peaceful when she slept, she rested quietly at the moment. The night had brought many terrors for her, in her subconscious mind. Dreams he couldn't pull her out of. She had screamed and thrashed violently in her sleep, to the point where they had been force to give her the drugs she so badly hated. But she had never come out, never opened those whiskey colored eyes. The dreams tore at him, as they tore at her, and he felt something clench inside of him remembering what she had gone through during the night.
He didn't look up when he heard the shuffle of Feeney's feet, or the scrape of the chair being moved over along side his. Roarke eased himself back into his own chair, when he heard Feeney pull out his bag of nuts and start crunching, but he didn't take his eyes off of Eve.
“I keep waiting for her to wake up, and start swatting at me for having her here.”
Feeney said nothing for a moment, let the air between them settle.
'Her mind is going but she can't wake up. She's trapped.” He gently wrapped his hand around hers, lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles, before turning his eyes over to Feeney.
Emotion, in its rawest form showed on Roarke's face. Stripped, was the word that came to Feeney's mind. He couldn't ever remember seeing Roarke look stripped bare. He didn't mind admitting to himself, that it made him a little uneasy. He'd seen Roarke mad, he'd seen him in a cold violent rage. There was definitely a rage boiling under the despair, but this, this didn't have the control he was used to seeing in Roarke.
“What have you found so far, Feeney?”
“Ah, well...” Feeney shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His fingers itched at the collar of his shirt. “They, ah... well, you see...”
“Bloody, buggering hell, Feeney. How many times have I worked cases with you? You're going to shut me out now?”
Here was the ice, the frigid fury. Feeney much preferred it over the unchained, unstable rage. But it still made him want to shrink into the back of his chair.
“Well, you see... Webster...”
“Webster? IAB is in this?” Roarke's eyes narrowed as he rounded on Feeney.
"Roarke..." Feeney put a hand up to stop him, shook his head, and sighed. He couldn't even imagine what he would do, how he would react, if the roles were reversed. "Three cops went down. One is dead, two are in a coma. There is no record, no recording. IAB snatched this up and closed it in tight and fast. Webster won't even take my phone calls."
“The Commader...”
“Whitney knows that we are all way too close to this. The best thing for everybody, for Dallas, is to let IAB handle it.”
“Fuck, IAB.”
Feeney couldn't hide the smile. When he finally got his hands on Webster, he had some choice words for the man himself.
“I'm taking her home this afternoon. Summerset is just finishing up the arrangements. I don't want her waking here.”
“Good. That's good. That's right.” Feeney nodded his head, and rose, placing an awkward hand on Roarke's shoulder. “You know, I may just take some leave until this whole thing is cleared up. Be around if you need a hand with anything.”
Roarke watched Feeney leave, and thought of the work he meant to do once he was home. He thought of his equipment not seen by the CompuGuard system, and the secret room that only two people other than himself knew about. There were some things you just had to do yourself.
