Eric chuckles and gives Ashlee's cheek a quick brush with his finger. "Good. Right now though, I'm one hungry cowboy so I'm gonna get me something to eat. If you wanna find your mom, she's probably still with Angel, though I'm sure she'll come here next."
"What's this?" Alec looks up at Reese after having a sheet of paper slapped down on the interrogation table in front of him.
Reese frowns and folds his arms, remaining standing. "Read it."
Alec had been in here for over
and hour and honestly didn't know why. After he'd been questioned when
Eli was here, he'd just been left alone. He'd sat, he'd paced, he'd used
the intercom to complain to Hal, but nobody had come. He'd begun to
think they'd forgotten about him, when finally Reese had shown up. And
now Alec still had no idea what was going on.
Looking down at the paper, he
picks it up to see Reese's handwriting. "Numerous contusions and
abrasions," he reads aloud. "Broken jaw and cheekbone... broken leg....
crushed hand..." Alec pauses and swallows hard. He doesn't dare look up.
Was this what he thought it was?
"Keep reading," Reese orders sternly.
"Multiple broken ribs.
Punctured lung. Concussion.... fractured spine." Alec stops, refusing to
read the last sentence and finally looking up at Reese. "What in the
world is this, and why are you keeping me here anyway? What's the
deal?"
Reese slams his palm down on the table so hard it makes Alec jump. "Finish reading," he hisses.
For the first time since
setting foot in TJY that fateful night after attacking Scott, Alec feels
a fear of Reese. He obeys. "Chances of survival, 50/50."
Reese snatches up the paper,
folds it in thirds and stuffs it into Alec's front shirt pocket. "You're
free to go. But you take this list with you. And you read it again when
you get home. And you think about it. And you dream about it. And you
live with it. And you pray that the 50/50 chance swings around to better
odds."
Alec stands calmly, even
though on the inside everything felt like it was churning and going
haywire. "You haven't told me who this is about," he comments dryly.
Reese glares at him. "I don't
have to. You may have beaten the system, Alec Banks, but you get one
thing clear right now - I don't believe you're innocent. We may never be
able to prove it. And you may walk away a free man because you figured
out how to fool us. But everybody pays eventually. Everybody. If you
have any speck of a conscience left, I suggest you listen to it - that
is, if you can stand seeing the blood on your own hands."
Alec had never seen Reese this
angry. Nor had he ever felt such a shock of emotions. Earlier today,
he'd been walking tall, knowing exactly what he wanted and how he'd get
it. And right about now, it felt as though he'd been slammed over the
head with a baseball bat. How someone's words could do that, he didn't
know. But what he did know was that Reese was right. He was guilty.
Whether they could prove it or not. And for some reason he couldn't
explain... his triumph didn't feel all that triumphant.
Walking silently to the door,
Alec opens it slowly before glancing over his shoulder. But what could
he say? Nothing, lest he admit his guilt and be taken to prison. Perhaps
those prison bars were what he feared the most, without even realizing
it. Turning, he exits the room and speaks to no one as he leaves TJY...
...Back at his apartment, Alec
sits on the floor below the living room window. With his knees pulled
up partway to his chest, he rests his arms on them, completely lost in
his own thoughts. The paper that Reese had forced on him was resting on
the carpet beside him.
The problem with the
scene was not that Alec had committed a crime or betrayed someone's
trust. It was not that he had lied, hurt someone, or gone mad with
jealousy. Though certainly unacceptable in every way, shape and form, it
was not those that caused the true problem as he sat staring into
space. No... the problem lay within his heart. For it was not the heart
of a man raised to be strong, wise and caring. It was not the heart of a
man who had been taught the value of loyalty, the differences between
right and wrong, or the acceptable ways to control one's heightened
emotions. No.... rather, it was the heart of a little boy. A little boy
that had not figured out where true happiness resides. A little boy that
had become a man before his time. A little boy that felt tormented by
feelings of loneliness, insecurity and confusion. What little boy would
not fight back with fists against whom he felt was an intruder? What
little boy would not react with anger when feeling pushed aside? Or with
harmful vengeance against the emotional trauma of jealousy? With hate
against that which made him hurt inside his soul?
The problem was not
with the man sitting alone in the poor situation he had created. No, the
problem was the little boy sitting alone in a world full of chaotic
emotions.
Guilt.
Alec tries to swallow the acidic taste in his mouth. Something makes
him pick up the paper again. He'd read it five times already. Tal. It
was about Tal. Tal was lying in the hospital bed barely alive... and it
was all because of him. Why wasn't he happier? Why wasn't he
celebrating? They would know now he meant business. They would know now
how serious he'd been about getting Ryan back. They would all know that
he was one to be feared and respected. ...Right?
Picking up the nearby phone he'd been allowed to hook up only days before, he dials the number still scribbled on his arm.
"Cutter? Alec." His tone was icy. "What in the world do you think you're doing?!"
"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the job I hired you to do."
"And? I did it. Or didn't you hear?"
"I heard alright. I heard that Tal's in the hospital half dead because of you."
"I'm impressed he survived."
"You
were supposed to just give him a scare!" Alec raises his voice. "You
were supposed to just rough him up a bit! I could have put him in the
hospital myself the first time if I'd wanted to!"
"Hey, man, I did exactly what you told me to do. Far be it from me to take my job seriously."
"Seriously?!
That's what you call this? You broke bones, Cutter! You almost killed
him! It wasn't supposed to happen like that and you know it!"
"Look, if you're not happy with the job, then I'm sorry. But you better still pay up, or you're gonna be next."
Alec's
eyes narrow. Cutter was a big guy, but Alec could take him down if he
wanted to. "That won't be necessary. I'll pay. But don't expect me to
ever ask you for anything again, and don't expect me to help your
reputation any. I should have known better than to hire a bloodthirsty
goon like you."
Slamming
the phone back in its cradle, Alec thinks he might be sick. He blamed
Cutter for the severity of the attack. But in reality...it was still his
fault. Why didn't he feel good about it?! Why was he feeling guilty???
He didn't understand!
A sudden pound on the door
makes him jump. No one ever came here. What could anybody want? He
remains silent and listens. If it was someone from the Elite, they would
have said so. Nobody else cared to see him. Odd.
Standing and trudging to the
door, his socks scuff on the carpet. He was in no mood for any company -
good or bad. Peering through the tiny peephole in the door, his eyes
widen and he takes a step back. Ryan. Ryan was here? Why? A cold chill
runs down his spine as he remembers seeing Eli earlier. The anger. The
bloodstains. The ire to kill. And the look on Ryan's face now was not
much different.
Alec is tempted to not even
answer the door. But what kind of coward was he? Whatever Ryan had to
dish out, he could take. Whatever she had to say couldn't hurt him. She
might know that it was his doing that got Tal in the hospital, but that
still didn't mean she had any proof. And if she was just angry with him,
eventually she'd get over it. This was what he wanted, right?
The fragile naivety of a
little boy's heart can often lead to false confidence, lined with pure
hope that wrongdoings can somehow turn out right. Yet those hopes can
also be quickly destroyed, leaving yet more confusion in a searching
soul.
Alec unlocks the doorknob and
the deadbolt and slowly opens the door halfway. He stares into Ryan's
eyes, his expression blank. It was a blankness that hid the yearning
below the surface. "Yes?"
Carson enters the house after a late evening at the restaurant. He
needed a shower, but at the moment, he was tired. Slipping off his
shoes, he heads straight for the couch. He could hear Misty working in
the kitchen - she probably had waited up for him to make sure he got a
good meal. He'd usually go in and greet her first... but not tonight.
Hitting the couch, he lies on his stomach and buries his face in a throw pillow.
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