Shattered

12: Mr. Worthington, meet Mr. Worthington

Author's Note: Some things don't make sense. One of them being this chapter. Hang with me, I'm trying to get everything in order xD As for the law-ish stuff, I have no clue about it...I'm relying on my friend Brie who is an expert on law. If there's anything I did wrong, forgive me and tell me kindly. Thanks for reading, and remember to punish me if I don't finish this story by March 15.

The sun was high and blazing, but obscured by the foggy rain clouds. Evening had dawned, and sore from driving all day, an agitated Bradley Worthington trudged into the high-class building known as Consley. A bellboy followed him, carrying his luggage above his shoulders, and clearly struggling to hold the weight. The boy was young, and the cap he wore on his head was far too large for him. It was a wonder he could even see where he was going. He diligently carried the suitcase, without showing discouragement or complaint on his face.

With rumpled hair, and an untucked and wrinkled shirt, Bradley was not looking his best. The stubble on his face showed his desperate need to shave, and the tie that was loosely hung around his neck was in need of being pressed. The outward state he was in, was not one that Bradley wanted to be seen in. He shielded his face as best he could, without drawing too much attention to his abnormal body language. Although the  young bellboy had not caught up, Bradley ordered the elevator man to close the door. Without asking, the man knew what floor, and the two rode in silence as always.

Opening the door to his apartment, the damp air cascaded onto him instantly. It was cold and lonely, and hauntingly dark. With a clap of his hands, the room brightened, and he slammed the door behind him, with a mind only for his own self. The distant beep of the answering machine was barely heard amidst the quietness. Anxiously, he plugged in his dead phone to the charger in the kitchen.

There was a knock on the door, just as he pressed a button to play the messages. He walked as quietly as he could - which was unnecessary given his aloneness - to open the door, while listening to the voice message.

"Hey, Brad," said Cecelia's recorded voice. "You haven't been answering my calls-"

Bradley opened the door, and saw his luggage, haven been brought up by the bellboy. Normally, the boy would have stayed and waited to be tipped, but he was nowhere in sight. The light above the elevator declared it was already on the ninth floor. Oh, well, it saved him some cash, he thought.

"-and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay-"

He took off his jacket and tie, and placed his suitcase gently on his bed, sensing the continued loneliness, as Cecelia's voice rang through the premises of the place.

"-because I have some important news to tell you."

Involuntarily, his eyebrows raised. Important news? He walked back into the kitchen, for the ceasing of Cecelia's voice made him think the message had ended. As he was just inches away from the telephone, she spoke again.

"I've been trying to call you for days now, so I guess I'll just tell you."

Her tone was filled with jubilance, and there was no indication that she was worried. The talking stopped once more, trying at Bradley's patience.

"Well, uh-" she hesitated, dragging out her breathing. "Mom and Dad have some - stuff - for me to do here at...home. I won't be back until the first of the year. Good luck with your cases, and don't try calling me, because... I broke my charger, and I need to preserve it for emergencies only. I'll call you on Christmas. Bye!"

The last words were spoken between giggles, filling them with skepticism. It took a moment for the abrupt words to process. It was only the first week in November, and she did not plan on returning until January? It was more suspicious than anything; it even hurt a little bit.