Chain Reaction 3.1.33: Trust

Emily

      I can't believe it. I know I should, but I still can't.

     I just got off the phone with the police chief. I told him I'd deliver the news to my husband, but the second I walk in the door, I stop. Why can't that awful beast just disappear for good?
     "Emily?" Alex calls out when he sees me doing nothing but standing here pouting in the foyer. He must've heard the door over his playing on the piano, or maybe he just sensed something was up.

     "Is everything okay?"
     How am I going to tell him? We both knew this might happen. Honestly, they seriously need to provide better security.
     He closes in, so I decide to just get right into it.

      "I just got off the phone with the police. Drake is unaccounted for."
      I watch as several emotions fly through my husband's face. Alaric faintly swears where he sits at the table, having heard me.
      "How?" Alex asks. He means 'how could this happen?' or 'how could he have done it?' or 'what do they know that they're not telling you?' or maybe all of the above.
     But that's not what I'm thinking. Not anymore anyway. "They're reviewing footage. He impersonated a guard."
     The shock starts wearing off for me, and fear starts taking its place. Not again! I can't go through that again! I'll kill him first! But what if his goal is to kill ME? or Mikey? or Alex? Not again! I feel my face crumple, and Alex pulls me into his arms.

     "I won't let him touch you." He squeezes me to him while I bawl out more buried misery. Thus far, I had done my best to put aside the horror of everything Drake had done to me while Alex was falsely imprisoned. I'd decided to let my joy that Alex was back and alive rule over any ghastly memory. The present was more important, and I didn't want to waste the gift.
     Now, however, the present holds the terror that it could all happen again.

      "But what about you? And Mikey? I'm so scared. He's dangerous."
      "I won't let him hurt anyone. We'll find him. We'll catch him, and we'll lock him away for good."
      I sniff. Or I will kill him.

     So my wonderful husband starts doing what he does best: hacking. With Ethan long since gone from the force and Mikey broken up with his boyfriend, we don't have anyone on the inside. Alex complains that it's trickier than before, but he manages to get inside the security cameras for the prison where Drake was held, a so-called 'maximum-security' one in a place called Lucky Palms. Watching the footage of that awful man casually strolling out of the building gives me chills. Alex tries to follow him on various street-view cameras. Drake got into a vehicle probably owned by the cop whose uniform he pilfered. Then he parks it at a lot, gets out, and gets into a taxi in a sea of taxis. The street cameras aren't very good, and Alex can't read the numbers on the cars very well. He loses him.
     We hire increased security staff, but Mikey balks when we say we're getting him a bodyguard, saying he doesn't want one.

Michael

     Ivy requests that she go to her doctor's appointment alone. When I get off the phone with my Aunt Emily, I make an appointment with a shrink. Ivy's not gone long before she's back.

     When I see her, I bounce up. "Is everything okay?"

     She offers me a little smile. "Everything's fine."

     I let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good." Then I pause. "But... did she give you any reason for the changes?" It's because I'm just a freak. 

     "Yes. But Michael, you might want to sit down."

     "I've been sitting down all morning, forcing myself to remain calm." I'm a freak; Drake has escaped; but most importantly, Ivy thinks there's something wrong with her.

     "Okay. Well, she told me everything that's happening is normal--" for someone who's been over-woohooed by a freak "--for a pregnant woman."

     She has a strange smile on her face while my brain ceases to function.

     "I'm pregnant, Michael. We're going to have a baby."

     The pretty girl keeps staring at me. Everything about her is so pretty. How did I get such a pretty girl for a girlfriend? Um, fiancée? That's right. She's my fiancée. We're going to get married... someday. And have kids.

     But maybe not in that order.

     "Michael?"

     The pretty girl my girlfriend fiancée reaches for my hand. Her hand is soft.

     "Michael, honey, it's going to be okay. I wondered how you'd react, and this is one of the possibilities I imagined." Possibilities. "You've been delivered a shock." Delivered. "Why don't you come sit down on the couch, okay?" She touches my face.

     Then she makes a startled noise.

      She's so nice to hold. And to kiss. And to woohoo. We've woohooed a lot. Ivy's on birth control.

      My brain suddenly kicks in, doing calculations to determine the odds of the birth control failing. There is that possibility. It's not even that rare. And I can imagine the odds increase with more woohoo. And we've been going at it like rabbits. Rabbits are typically very fertile.

     Ivy's going to have my baby. I let out a shaky breath, sinking into her, but I don't stop the kiss. I'm going to be a dad. That's my child nestled inside this beautiful woman's body. My girlfriend--fiancée-- That's not enough. I pull back. She's panting.

     "Mike, are you okay?"

     I'm beaming. I can feel it. "Yes." Then I crush her to me in a tight hug.

     "Mike... too... tight... still... tender."

     "Oh yeah. Sorry." My hug drops to normal standards. "This is wonderful, Ivy! It's, um, unexpected, but wonderful!"

     She completely relaxes into me, and she starts crying. What'd I do?! "I'm so glad you're not upset."

     "Is that why you're crying?"

     "Yes."

     Phew. 

     "Ivy, we're already engaged. Let's go ahead and get married."

     "What?"

     "Well, doesn't it make sense?"

     She doesn't look happy. "Yeah, a hundred years ago."

     "Are you saying you don't want to get married?"

     "I'm saying I don't want to get married because of a pregnancy."

     "But we were engaged anyhow. What's the big deal?"

     "The 'big deal'?" Uh oh. I know that tone. "The 'big deal' is I don't want to be one of those women who's pregnant at the wedding. I want to get married because we decided to get married. Not because of a baby."

     So much for being happy. "So are you suggesting we co-parent? Is that it? We're getting married eventually anyway."

     "And I don't want to rush it ahead simply because I'm pregnant."

     "But there is nothing simple about you being pregnant!"

     She starts crying again because I yelled. Plum! "Mike, I'm sorry. I do want to get married, but I want it to be at the time when we feel one-hundred percent ready for it. If I'm still pregnant when that happens, fine. If the baby is already born, that's fine too. I'll give him or her your last name anyway."

     "That's not what this is about. Ivy, please don't cry."

     Her mood shifts immediately.

     She kisses my cheek. "Okay, Mike. I'll think about it. I make no promises, though. But I do acknowledge how sweet you are to want to push everything ahead. I know why you want that, okay?"

     "It's just... If we're going to be a family, let's be a family."

     "I said I'll think about it."

     "Okay." I hug her again. I guess these mood swings will take some getting used to.

     I find out something else I have to get used to: Ivy's doctor instructs her to cut down on the woohoo, and when we do woohoo, it has to be gentle. I manage okay.

     Then the tension begins to build. As if on cue, I have my doctor's appointment, the shrink. He diagnoses me with anxiety of all things. I think I need a second opinion.

     In the meantime, I tell Ivy I want to go out and have some fun. I wanted her to go with me, but she complains of nausea and a headache. She doesn't begrudge me wanting to go, though.

     There's a newer club I haven't been to yet, so I decide to go there. As I walk up to the place, I can already tell I'm going to like it by the thumping beat reverberating in my chest more and more the closer I get. It's smaller than I expected, but that might not be a problem.

      Then I walk into the place.

      Plum. Plum it all. It's like our souls fix on the same point at the same time. Darrin's shaking his fine ass out on the damn dance floor.

     I took a cab here because I knew I was going to get smashed. The cab has already left, so it's either stay here or call for a new one. Damn him! I decide to forego the dance floor and walk over to the bar, pretending he doesn't exist.

     Yeah. Like that works.

     By the time the bartender has made my second drink, the DJ stops doing her thing, letting the stereo do its thing while she takes a break.

      All of a sudden, people flood the bartender with drink requests.

     "Mike. Hi. Don't freak out. I didn't know you were going to be here. I'm just dancing. Okay?" Darrin watches me warily.

     "Yeah. No problem. It's cool."
     "It is?" He grins. He's probably had a drink or two himself. "Well then..." He leans down on the bar.

     He stands there and watches me down the next drink.

     I put the empty glass on the counter and signal the bartender to keep 'em coming. She nods, but I know it's going to be a minute. I pay Darrin no mind while I wait for it to get made. I don't remember what it's called, but it's a pretty good drink. It tastes like tea--only fuzzier. No idea what's in it. That's funny. I'm normally so conscious about what's in my food.
      "What's wrong?"

      I give a lopsided, fake smile. For a moment, I consider mentioning Drake, but he probably already knows. Well, worrying about me isn't his concern anymore. "Nothing." The bartender hands me my next drink. I think she had it pre-made. Oh yeah. I'd asked her to keep 'em coming. I pick up the next drink and work on finishing it.

      "Yeah right. You know, you only drink like this when something's wrong."

      I finish the drink with a loud 'ah' sound, turn the glass upside down, and put it on the bar. "Nothing's wrong." I signal the barkeep. She starts making the next one.
     He sighs. "Okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but promise me you won't do something stupid."

     "Stupid? Stupid! Hah! I've cornered the market on stupid! I'm really talented at it. It's what I do best, you know?"

     Darrin just looks at me. I probably look ridiculous about this point. Well, it suits me.

     "Remember the sakura tea?" The first time Darrin kissed me was at the love festival. "That sh*t's dangerous. I asked Ivy to marry me. So now I'm engaged." I laugh, and the bartender hands me my next drink. Darrin's eyebrows have come together. I don't know what he's thinking, but I'm on a roll now. "So then, we wake up the next morning and she's all 'boohoo you can call it off.' So how do I fix that? I ask her to move in with me!" I laugh again. "Then, we woohoo like rabbits. You know what rabbits are best at?"

     "What."

     I finish the drink, but the bartender shakes her head no for another one. Damn. She cut me off. Have I had that many? I slowly turn my head back to Darrin. "What was I talking about?"
     "Rabbits." He gets a strange expression all of a sudden. "Oh, no. Mike..."
     "Rabbits are best at making babies!" I smile like I'm a game show host giving away the grand prize. Then I feel my face fall along with the rest of me, and I put my head in my hands.

     "Michael, let me call you a cab. You know you can't drink like this."
     "I'm fine. I'll just... wait it out."

     I flop my hand down on the bar. "She's pregnant, Darrin. She's pregnant, and she doesn't want to get married yet. She doesn't want to marry me."

     "Then she's a bigger idiot than I thought."
     "I think I'm gonna be sick."

      "Crap. Let me help you. The bathroom's right behind me." He holds my shoulders as I get up, and I'm glad he does. Otherwise, I would've surely fallen on my face thanks to the moving floor. He's great for helping me, so I hug him.

     "You're my best friend, Darrin." My nausea has left me for the moment.

     He doesn't so much as hug me back as hold me up. "Yeah. Sure. Right." He doesn't believe me.

     "No, I mean it."

     "Well, I'm a pretty sh*tty best friend then."

     "That's okay." I sigh. "I made a sh*tty boyfriend."

     He actually hugs me now. "No you didn't."

     "Yeah. I'm a liar. I get scared and lie."

     "No. I still think you're a hero, even considering everything."

     "But I'm still a liar. Nobody should trust me." The room rocks to the side. "Yeah, I'm gonna be sick."

     "Okay! Let's get you to the bathroom!" He leads me to the bathroom and makes sure my hair doesn't get dirty while I puke my guts out.