Chain Reaction 3.70: Too

Emily

     Drake meets me out by the rocket. "Alaric aced his spelling exam. Of course." He grins. "You're his mom, so that shouldn't come as a surprise."
     I smile. "Thank you so much for everything you're doing. I highly doubt he'd be the same without you here to get him through this."
     "I like the kid. It's not hard. He's just like you. And I started telling him a few stories of when we were kids."
     "You didn't!"
     He laughs. "Yeah. I also told him about when we were teens and you got jealous that time at the club."
     "Huh?"
     "Miko. Remember? You didn't like me flirting with her."
     "Please tell me you didn't tell him that story."
     "Well, I didn't tell him how it went exactly. I just said that you came out on the floor and started dancing to distract me from this other girl."
      "Okay. Because I don't want it to be weird for him."
      "But you were jealous."
      I roll my eyes just like I would as a teen. "Whatever."
      He lightly chuckles. "Plum, I miss that." He starts walking towards the house.
      I gasp in surprise when his arm slips around me.

     "Drake..." I'm shocked more than anything. He's been so well behaved that I'd stopped fearing this would happen.
     "Just listen, would you?"
     I shake my head. "No." My stomach is forming into knots, something that hasn't happened with him in ages.
     "I'm just asking you to listen. I don't expect anything to come of it, but if I don't say something, I'll explode and then you'll hear it anyway. Except then, it'll be a lot messier."
     I crack a small smile at the image of him comedically exploding.
     He's being Drake at his finest... and that makes him the most dangerous. I'm terrified. I can better handle the scoundrel.

      He holds my chin. "I love your smile. I'm glad I can still make you do it."
      "Don't do this." Why am I not shoving him away? I feel like I can't move, like my arms are made of lead.
      "I can't stop myself. I love you, Emily. You accused me of not knowing what that is, but that's one of the rare times you're wrong. Every day, I miss you. It's no one's fault but mine, I know."
     His thumb moves along my jawline. "Drake, please."
     "You're so wonderful. It's impossible not to love you. I honestly never stood a chance." He takes a breath. "These past weeks have been so happy for me, being in some way a part of your life again, but I want more. My heart aches for more." His thumb returns to my chin. "Look at me."
     I'm shaking. "If I do that, you'll kiss me."
     "You're right. I will." He pulls my chin up, and with a quick inhale, our lips reunite like old friends.

      No! This isn't happening. I move to push him away but end up holding his face instead while he almost toys with my lips, making me want more. Damn him. Our intensity slowly picks up.
     No, this isn't happening. Drake presses into me harder, his tongue taking control of my mouth. I let out a little noise because I'm angry at myself for not stoping him.
     You can't let him do this. He grasps the back of my neck, keeping me in place. He's gotten... a LOT better.
     Well, of course, silly. So have you.
     Drake moans and starts earnestly kissing me now, pulling the fabric of my clothing into his fists. That wakes me up.
     I pull back. "Stop. Don't do this." I sound breathless.

     "I'm not the only one doing it, Emily." He slowly kisses my neck, and I pull my head back to make it easier for him.
     "Drake! Please don't do this to me." I love Alex! I love Alex! I love Alex!
     "How can I possibly make myself stop when I've wanted to do this for years?" He retakes my mouth, swallowing my pathetic 'no.'
     I pull back from the kiss, but he just kisses my face instead.
     "I've missed you so much, Emily. It was always supposed to be us. You and me. Together. Like two halves of the same coin."
     "No. Drake, I'm married... to Alex." This would kill Alex if he saw this. How am I ever going to forgive myself for letting this happen?
     "A mistake that can be fixed."
     "No. I love him."
     "Then why are you kissing me back like you've missed me too?"

     Plum it. Plum it all.
     Damn Goth men. I step back and slap him across the face.
     He smirks, pulls me back to him, and owns my mouth.

Chain Reaction 3.69: Fish Bowl

    "Yo, there, Goth. Maybe you should hit the gym. You're putting on a little weight." It's Seiji, one of the inmates. Armed robbery and murder, and he likes to brag about it.
    "How have you been sleeping, Seiji?" It's been six weeks since I told Emily what happened. My pregnancy has progressed faster than a normal one, but then again, this isn't a normal one.
    "Can't complain. Why? You looking for a cuddle buddy?" He laughs.
    "You were screaming last night."

     "You're crazy. Maybe you dreamed it."
     "I was in the process of puking my guts out. I wasn't dreaming."
     "You're hearing things then."

    A few days later, he's complaining about his stomach. He claims they had to remove his appendix.
    "Why are you up and about, Seiji, when you should be resting?" Of course, I know the real reason he's uncomfortable.
    "Shut up, man. It was just a simple operation. I have a stomach ache today." He's especially jittery today, more than normal. When his little ticks get real bad, I almost want to punch him, but I figure he can't help it.
    Marcos, the man in front of me, speaks quietly. "Alex."
    "What?"
    "Something strange is going on." This is a man that tortured and killed his ex-wife, and he looks scared. "Your stomach. I've paid attention. You've been exercising regularly."

     I look him right in the eye. He's completely sane. The only person who was ever in danger from him was his ex. "And you know why?"
    He glances at the cop behind Seiji, and speaks quietly still, "I've seen it before. Men walk around with their bellies swelling, distended. Then, overnight, they're back to normal again. Then, they disappear. They say they get 'transferred,' but it's bull plum."
    Seiji speaks way too loudly. "Don't give him anything else to mope about! All he does is cry and insist he hears things at night."
     Marcos merely glances at him before continuing, "And last night..." He gets paler. "They got me. I thought it was a nightmare."
     "Oh, plum." I swallow.
     "What do I do?" His eyes are wide, and he hasn't touched his lunch.
     A voice behind me interrupts what I wanted to say, "Sup, b*tches."

     Seiji hisses like an alley cat. "Plum off, Miguel."
     He ignores him, and, as usual, directs his evil to me. "Saw your wife the other day, Alex. Mm! What I wouldn't do to her! Thought about it all night. Had to change my sheets." He sits down.
     I give him my deadliest look. "I'd chop your member off and choke you with it first." We all hate him. I have no idea why they put him in our little group. Rapists have a special place in hell. He raped and strangled a thirteen-year-old girl and left her body on her parents' lawn in a disgusting position for them to find.
     He cackles up to the ceiling, thrilled he got to me. "Not before I shove it down her throat first."
     To everyone's surprise, Seiji jumps at him first. "As-hole!" He breaks his plate over the side of the table and tries to cut his throat, but the cop makes it over here first. Seiji gets carted off to the padded room for a while.

     "I love you guys!" Miguel heartily laughs to the ceiling again. Then he looks at us. "So what are we talking about today, ladies?"
     "You're late to lunch today, Miguel," Marcos tries to change the subject.
     He stuffs a bite of his sandwich into his mouth and speaks while chewing. "I was talking with my lawyer. He thinks I can get an appeal." He grins maliciously at me and winks, implying the first woman he'd go after would be my Emily. I don't respond. If nothing else, I know Drake would kill him first.
    "You'll not be going anywhere for a while, Miguel," Marcos replies for me. "It's only a matter of time before they get you too."

     "Conspiracy theories? This should be good."
     I chime in before Marcos can. "How are you sleeping, Miguel?"
     "Just perfect, baby cakes, especially when I dream about your sweet wife."
     One day... I will beat the plum out of him. But not today.

     "Not having bad dreams and waking up with your stomach hurting?"
     "The only thing I wake up with is a hard c--k."
     "Alex, maybe they won't want his ilk." Marcos and I laugh and get up from the table together. Miguel calls after us with his mouth full of food, so we can't understand him. The other cop tells him to sit down and shut up.

     I get taken to a kind of lab in the middle of the night one night, and they run what they call "routine tests." They claim they're fascinated due to my advanced age. A few men in white lab coats speak animatedly about this 'example' opening further opportunities. "Routine tests." Right. It's bull plum, but what can I do?
     "How old did you say?" One man asks me.
     "Seventy-two." I don't feel it. I don't think I look it. Thanks to Graham's influence, I'm extremely fit.
     It's all enough to turn a sane person into a total nut job. Seiji's ticks make me want to scream, and Miguel's ceaseless jabs and teasing make me want to really commit murder. Marcos--I consider him a friend.

     Then, he and Seiji start "showing." This is actually a picture of a happier moment. Miguel has been thrown into solitary for a while.
     We're all scared, but we don't know what to do. More and more, they start separating the three of us from the rest of the inmates.

     I made a mistake in telling Emily.

     "I'm doing everything I can," she tells me. "You're right. We've uncovered where they transfer inmates out of the country. I didn't even know they could do that."
     "Shh. Please don't talk about it. I don't know what they'd do to you." I didn't miss her little 'we' in what she said. She means Drake. So now, Drake knows too. She tells me she's putting his hacking skills to good use. I hate that Drake has so much access to Emily now, but she assures me she's kept him in line.
    I make short work of her clothing.

     Miguel is right about one thing: I do have one sweet wife.
     I've more than once pondered the setup of this room, not that I'm complaining, but the bed is just a little too convenient.

     The two-way mirror bothers us... but not enough to prevent us from doing the most with what little time we're given.
     As I watch Emily, a sad thought hits me: They're going to take me from her. Woohoo-ing with my growing belly gets more and more difficult, but the scary thought is that it may be the last we get.
     I can't let that happen. Somehow, I have to figure out what's going on.

Chain Reaction 3.68: Screams in the Night

      Drake is true to his word. He's amazing to tell the truth. He's over here all the time: for me if I need him, but mostly... for Alaric.
      The two of them become like best friends. With Alaric, it's always "my big brother this" or "my big brother that." Drake fills a void that I wish didn't need filling.

      Lately, I live for visiting with my husband. We try to get in conversation during our visits, but passion inevitably takes over every time. I know he misses me like I miss him.
      I used to bring Alaric with me, but he's afraid of the prison and seeing his daddy in prisoner garb. It breaks my heart.
     But Alex won't be in here long. We're working with Furston and Howle to clear his name.

     "Oh, Emily!" Alex collapses onto my lap during another one of our visits. I'd noticed right away that something was troubling him. He was somewhat mentally absent when we woohooed. "Emily, something terrible has happened."
     "Whatever it is, we'll get through it." Alex doesn't like to discuss the appeal during our conjugal visits.
     He shakes his head. "No. I don't think we will."
     "What is it?"
     "It was horrible! At first, I thought it was a nightmare when I woke up the next morning." He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me to him.
     "What was?"
     "I couldn't stop them. It was like my arms and legs wouldn't work but I was totally conscious, like I'd been put under some kind of anesthesia that kept me awake."
     "It was a nightmare."
     "No, I have proof it was real."
     "What?"
     "They... they... inserted something into me."
     "Who they?"
     "Aliens."
     "From Sixam?"
     "No. These were different. They looked the same, but they weren't the same."

      "I can feel it. It's like a bulge. It is a bulge. And it sometimes moves on its own."
      "Oh my maker, Alex! What have they done to you?"
      "I think I'm ... pregnant, ... Emily."
      I take in and let out breaths, continuing to run my hands through his hair. How? Why? How did they get to him if he can't go outside? "Oh, Alex." I lean over him, and he cries.
      A timer dings. Three minute warning.
      "Don't go." He normally doesn't want me to leave, but today sounds especially desperate.
      "I have to." I get up and walk to where I piled up my dress.

     He follows me. "No. Please. Emily, I'm scared. Men scream in the middle of the night. At first, I assumed it was them reliving their crimes or that they're simply insane, but I don't know anymore."
     I hate that he's here!!!
     I start crying. I don't want to leave him.

      He looks stricken. "I'm sorry." He holds me and kisses me. I don't want to let go. "I shouldn't have told you."
     "No. Don't hide things from me."
     "I'll be okay. At least I can relax in the fact that they already got to me."
     An officer comes in and threatens that if I don't get dressed and come out now, he's going to drag me out of the room in my skivvies.

Alex

     I miss my wife. I'm in hell. This is hell. 

     It's hell with aliens. I'm glad I have a toilet in my room because I get sick in it a lot. What am I going to do with an alien baby? I suppose Emily can care for it. Hopefully, it won't matter, and I'll be out of here before anything happens.

     My sleep gets yet again interrupted by screams in the night.

Chain Reaction 3.67: The New Alpha

     I wake up in a haze. Where am I? Oh. The downstairs bedroom. I slept here a lot when I was pregnant with Alaric.
     Drake stands at the foot of the bed, watching me sleep. What the plum is he doing here?
     Then, it all comes back to me: the trial... my hysterics... Drake not leaving me alone, being more stubborn than a donkey... getting home and having a fit... then passing out here.
     "What are you staring at, Drake?" my voice croaks.
     "I'm making sure you're okay. Alaric was worried."
     "Piss off. I'm not okay."
     He FINALLY gets the point. "Okay. I'll be out in the greatroom if you feel like talking about it."
     I go back to sleep.

     A few hours later, I have to wake up to use the restroom. When I finish with that, I see that Drake left the lights on. When I go to turn them off, I find Drake at the bar. He sees me, raises one eyebrow, and pours me a glass of the merlot he's helped himself to.

     "Why are you still here?" There's a picture of Alex in the corner. I can't bear to look at it. I somehow feel I've personally failed him.
     "Like I told you earlier: to make sure you don't hurt yourself. You're obviously not interested in accepting any help from your family--"
     "Traitors. They're all traitors."
     "--so I figured I'd do what I do best: be an ass. I'm not leaving you unsupervised."
     "You are an ass. Stubborn as an ass."
     He actually chuckles at this. "Your family loves you, Emily."
     "Well, they have a strange way of showing it. Alex didn't do it."

     "How about we talk about anything but that."
     "That's all I can think about at the moment." I drink some of the wine. Alex bought it. He always did have excellent taste. Does have excellent taste. I take a breath. "I just need some time to get over myself and what happened today... or yesterday." I have no idea what time it is. "And then I'm going to come out of this and show the world what Emily Goth is really made of."

     "He's... guilty, Emily. We heard all the facts. I'm sorry."
     No. You're not sorry. You hate him. I keep my thoughts to myself. "Those were lies. I don't need a law degree to know he has plenty of reason to be granted an appeal. And it won't be difficult like it was with Dad. And I'll bet you Furston is rabid to get a win out of this."
     "Protests again? I don't think you'll get support for it."
     Yeah. The media proclaimed him guilty long before the trial, even if they didn't outright say it. It made for a better story. "I don't need protests. I need power. And lucky for me, I have it." I look at him and see a mix of fear, lust, and anger. Perfect. "And I need your help." I need his hacking expertise, and even though he won't want to, he'll help me.
     "I'm not helping you free him."
     I like this. I'm doing battle with the real Drake Goth now. And just like with chess, I will win.
     I burst into tears. "I know you hate him. I wish you didn't. I just need someone to talk to." I get up off the stool and slowly walk away. Drake takes the bait. He quickly dashes around the bar and stops me.

     "Emily, darling, I'm sorry, I..."
     "My family betrayed me. You and Alaric are all I have left. If you won't help me any other way, at least be here for me when things get tough. I have no one else for that."
     "I'll always be here for you, Emily. Even in disagreements. Everything. It's all for you. Let me show you." He wraps his arms around me.
     And here is where I draw the line.

    "That is... NOT... what I need!" I shove him. He wasn't expecting it, so I managed to get him off me, keeping my balance while he loses his.
     He lands hard on his ass on the wood floor. His grey eyes storm up at me in controlled rage. I raise my eyebrow back at him, daring him to do something. He won't because I know that ultimately, he wants on my good side.
     There is a new alpha in this pack, and it's not him.
     His voice has very clipped tones when he spouts, "I was under the impression that--"
     "Oh, no you weren't under any 'impression.' You thought you could pull a move on me in a weak moment." I interrupt.
     "--that you needed someone," he finishes anyway, and he stands up, rubbing his bottom.
     "Not like that, I don't. If you say everything is for me, you'll have to find another way to prove it." I pause. "Honestly, Drake. My husband was just thrown in prison." I suddenly have to bite my lip hard and work at keeping my face from crumpling up. I don't need tears right now. Save them.
     But in reality, my expression just then causes Drake to relent.

     "You're absolutely right, Emily. I apologize. That was a real dick move on my part. I got worked up."
     "As long as you realize it was out of place."
     "Right. And... Of course I'll help. In any way I can that doesn't involve getting him freed. I will not budge on that count."
     "Fair enough. Thank you." I'd hug him in a friendly way right now, but that might not be wise. Instead, I make my way up to my room. Drake can leave or stay; it's fine.

     The next day, I go immediately to Furston's office.

     "Good morning, Mrs. Goth. How are you feeling?"
     Hungover and tired. "Determined. I want an appeal filed asap."
     "I'm exceedingly sorry to have lost the case. Mr. Goth and I had rock-solid evidence of a plot to frame him. The court, however, disagreed."

      "Yes, and it was your fault that you couldn't prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't fabricated! I want better than that, Furston! You're supposed to be the best. Now, are you, indeed, the best, or am I going to have to go somewhere else? I hear Finch is trying his best to prove himself."
     He looks surprised. He, too, realizes that I am not the meek little Emily many people think of me. "Of course, there is nothing I can do to stop you if you want to take the case to Finch, but I can assure you he hasn't half the experience I have. This battle is not over, and I, for one, do not want to sit back and lick my wounds and try to figure out what to do next. Like you, I want this appeal. And I will win this appeal. The evidence we had, solid as it was, was only recently acquired. If I'd had more time, we could've presented it in such a way that it wouldn't leave any room for doubt."
     I relax my stance. This is the man I'd heard of, not that shadow of a person I saw yesterday who thought he had the case won.
     "So you already have a plan?"
     He points to the file on his desk. "I stayed up most of the night working on it. Mr. Goth gave me everything I need. I'm creating a better strategy for presenting it."
     "How long is this going to take?"
     "Not long at all. It will take longer to process the appeal, of which I'm positive will go through. It may take months, but I will do everything in my power to push it ahead."
     And maybe this time there won't be a jury full of women as well as a female judge drooling over the prosecution. "You do what's in your power, and I'll do what's in mine."
     "Very well, Mrs. Goth. I'll contact you the moment I hear of anything, but feel free to come by at any time." He stands up, and we shake hands, me being careful to keep mine firm. He nods, and I turn and walk out of the office.
     When I get into my car, I burst into tears.

Chain Reaction 3.66: No Tears

Emily

     It's New Year's Eve, and we get an unwelcome surprise at our door.
     "No!" Alex yells and runs for the back door. I get up from the couch to hurry and see what's going on. The police are here. One of the officers comes after Alex, catching him quickly.
  

     "Alexander Goth, you are under arrest for the murder of Graham Taylor." He continues to tell him his rights.
     "No," I whine.
     "I didn't do it!" Alex's pleas fall on deaf ears. The officer doesn't care. He's just doing his job.

      Alaric runs down the stairs, turning to me and trying to ask what's going on. He doesn't have to. It's obvious, but he asks anyway, probably hoping he'll get a different response from me. All I can do is cry.

     "You're making a mistake," Alex growls, sounding his most dangerous. "Don't worry, Alaric. It'll be okay."

     Alaric curls up into a ball and cries. I'm scared. What if it isn't going to be okay? Alex was starting to be worried. And now this.
     "Emily, call my lawyer."
     I nod even though he can't see me. "Of course."

     When I call Mr. Furston, interrupting his New Year's celebration party, he sounds every bit as furious as my husband did. He tells me not to worry and that he'll see me tomorrow. He wants to get something from the house, something Alex had been working on, to help the case.

     The trial date for Dad's murder arrives. When Alex walked in, I had to hold Alaric in his seat. He misses his dad so much. It's hard for me to stay in my seat myself. Keeping my son in his reminded me to stay in mine. Alex quickly winked at me and smiled in what I hope was a confident way. We all stand; the judge walks in; and then we're seated.

     The DA is quite young. At first, I thought his assistant was the DA, but it's the younger one. And he's attractive. This does not bode well as there are more women in the jury than men. Even the judge is female. I refrain from going up to him and slapping the DA across the face as he stands and gives his opening argument, calling my husband a cold-hearted killer, listing everything he ever did against my father as a sinister backdrop. I could strangle him, and myself, because Alaric has never heard about this. I pray he thinks they're lies. He doesn't react in a visible way. He just watches his daddy.

     Mr. Furston gets up to say his opening statement, assuring everyone of the truth: that my husband did not kill my father. He claims to have evidence of a conspiracy to frame him, and I hope he does.

     The first witness called: my brother Ethan.

     It was a mistake bringing Alaric. I thought he'd be mature enough to handle the proceedings. So far, he acts fine, but listening to his uncle speak so horribly about his dad must be tearing him apart. Because it's tearing me apart.

     Ethan's big point to make is that he found Alex with the gun in his hand, and his hands bloody. When Furston cross-examines, he asks Ethan if he actually saw Alex shoot Dad. Ethan has to say no. The big thing Ethan had gets shot down by the simple principle that Alex could've picked up the gun that had been pointed at him.

     Next, the DA calls a police detective, and we get shown graphs of the trajectory of the bullet and how it doesn't matter whether or not Ethan saw the actual shot or not because there was only one gun found at the scene, and the angle matches where Alex was probably standing. One bullet was missing out of the clip.

     I want to object! It's all circumstantial! Someone could've been standing slightly behind Dad! He said he saw something in the woods!

     Next, they say the gun was registered in Alex's name. Lies!

     I have to use a tissue to wipe away the enraged tears. Drake leans across the back of Alaric's chair and gives my shoulder a squeeze, and I realize my crying probably looks like I'm convinced of Alex's guilt.

     Not another tear will be shed.

     Mr. Furston does a stellar job of pointing out Dad's location during the shooting and how the point where the bullet entered Dad worked better if one considers that someone was standing farther away.

     He calls up a very surprised police detective, the same one the DA used. He shows him documentation proving that the police records had been tampered with. I have no idea how that could even be possible, but I strongly suspect my genius husband found the trail. The DA stands up and objects, accusing Furston of fabricating the evidence. The judge says she'll take that into consideration.

     No!

     I can see it on Furston's face. He's shaken. That was their big ticket item. So, he talks once again about the possibility of someone else being present at the time of the murder, but his arguments don't sway the cop, the judge, and looking at them, the jury either.

     I bite my lip. No tears.

     The jury goes into deliberation. For a little while, I'm allowed to go up to my husband and hug him. I can feel my brother's glares, but I don't care. He doesn't understand.

     The jury returns after only being gone half an hour.

     The verdict: guilty.

     I don't know what exactly happens next. All I know is I start screaming it's not true. There's a banging noise, and police start coming towards me as they also cuff my husband. Drake dashes in front of me.

     "Emily! Stop!"

     Alaric is crying. Drake tells him everything will be okay.

     But it's a lie.

     Somehow Drake manages to convince the officers that he'll keep me under control. I want to slap him, but he has my wrists.

     "Emily, if you don't calm down, they're going to lock you up too."

     "I don't care!"

     "You have to! Alaric needs you!"

     That works, and I start crying again.

      From behind me, Mom offers to take Alaric. I tell her to plum off. No one is taking my son. I tell Ethan I never want to so much as look at him again. Then, I cry harder. How can my life be ruined in one solitary morning?

     "Leave me alone, Drake." I just need a minute. Then I'll regroup. Then I'll make everyone pay. 

     "No, I'm not going to. I gave my word to the officers I wouldn't." Do I detect smugness? Bastard! 

     "I'm FINE!" I jerk free of his grasp, take Alaric's hand, and walk out of the courtroom. Drake follows close behind me.

     Alaric gets his hand free. "Wait, Mommy!"
     "Emily!" Drake dashes down the stairs.
     No. I turn away, headed for the Audi. "Let's go home, Alaric."
     "But, Drake!" Alaric actually sounds like he's siding with his brother.
     "Emily, please." Drake catches my arm and turns me around.

     "Get in the car, Alaric."
     "Don't go driving off." Drake holds my head in his hands.
     "I told you to leave me alone."
     "No, I'm not going to. You're unstable. At least let me be the one to drive you home. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you because you're too distraught to drive."
     He's right. My voice sounds whiny when I say, "They took Alex away." I cry again, and Drake holds me. I finally let him convince me to let him drive me home.

------------------------------------------

This chapter was so irritating to shoot. Here's why we never saw Graham's trial:

Too much. I was trying for too much, and they'd randomly get up and leave or change seats, and of course, I try to reset one and all reset. So, I gave up on a full courtroom.

And I never got a good pic of the DA:

Furston doesn't cover him up in this one, but I didn't like how Drake and Emily were and how Alaric is behind them.