This is a bit long but wow...it's been 3 months since the last update! Sorry for the endless wait, guys 🙈 I'll try to update as often as possible to finish the story before New Year hehe
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"How are you feeling, honey?" My mom asked as soon as she sat down, a concerned look on her face. "Nurse Mona told us you had a troubled night."
"I'm ok." I sat up properly, trying to force out a smile. I felt weak, the high fever I had all night drained me. According to the doctor, it was just my body fighting off an infection, which is kind of normal after a car accident, but I was sure it was more psychological.
"Are you sure, sweetie?" My mom grabbed my hand. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine, really." I couldn't help but notice my father hadn't said a word. "Dad?" He was merely staring at me. I knew he was disappointed. When you spend your life being a good kid, the moment you fuck up, your parents inevitably take it like the disappointment of the century. And when, like me, you're only child, it's even worse. "Dad ..." I called in a sigh, hoping he would understand a large part of this situation wasn't my fault.
I don't even know how I got pregnant. We've always used a condom and I'm always thorough with birth control. Although, everything was blurry, I couldn't remember whether 4 weeks ago we indeed used protections. Nothing makes sense anymore.
Two months ago, I was lost in my unrequited love for my best friend, absolutely sure I would live the next years of my life in the same relentless limbo I've been for the past 10, waiting to either find the courage to tell him or for him to realize we were meant to be. Two months ago, I was stuck in a dead-end job, but at least it was something related to my dreams. Now, I had no job, no Chris, no prospects, and I was haunted by the idea that the father of my child was either dead or in prison for attempted murder.
"Was Christopher here?" I closed my eyes, and simply nodded as an answer to my dad's question. "Why?"
"He heard about the accident." I murmured, lowering my glance, unable to endure my dad's disappointment, in Chris more than in me. He's always seen and treated my best friend as the son he never had, and I'm sure deep down my dad entertained the idea that Chris and I would end up together. I guess that, being told what happened between us, it took a toll.
"After all he did, he had the audacity to even come here?" My father thundered, starting to pace the room.
"Dad ..."
"Robert, calm down." My mom interjected.
"How can I calm down?" He froze in the middle of the room, pointing at me. "I treated him like a son! I welcomed him in my home and look what he did to my little girl!"
"This is not Chris' fault ..." I sighed, covering my belly with the sheets, even though there was no sign of a bump yet.
"How is it not?" He shouted, which never really happens. My father is a big man, but such a calm soul, he barely ever raises his voice. "He broke your heart and you took refuge in some ... some ... I don't even know how to define the scumbag!"
"Robert, please ..." my mom sent him a dirty look, "we're in a hospital, don't make a scene."
He shook his head, not even listening. "He made me a promise. Christopher promised me, swore to me that he would take care of my little girl! And look what happened!" My dad went on rambling on how Chris was a disappointment, how he should have known better, how he shouldn't have entrusted me to Chris.
I didn't have it in me to reply or listen. I merely lay down and let him continue his rant. I knew he was just frustrated and worried. But never as much as I was. I had no idea what to do. Nurse Mona said her friend couldn't find Sebastian – well, Tyler – anywhere. Did that mean he was captured? Killed? Or he simply left the country? If he was in police custody, an FBI agent would be able to find him in a minute.
I didn't know what to think of Sebastian. We haven't been together long enough for me to develop extra deep feelings, especially given, well, Chris. But I do care about him. With me he was patient, nice, understanding ... but maybe it was all an act. The one thing I still don't understand is what was my role in his charade. If he'd been planning to kill Mrs. Woods for a long time now, why did he do all that to impress me, make sure I stuck to him? Part of me wanted to believe it was genuine, but a man like that, with so many secrets, chances are I was a pawn as well. I just don't know why and how.
"And where is that deadbeat?!" I tuned back in to hear my dad thunder. "First, he nearly gets you killed, then he runs off. You picked a great father for your child, really."
I arched an eyebrow at him, feeling offended. I understood his frustrations, but he was going too far. "You speak as if I chose to get pregnant, dad. I didn't." I pointed out. "It happened."
"There are ways to prevent it."
"Really? I had no idea! I've gotten to the ripe age of 25 without a single clue about birth control, I guess." I scoffed sarcastically, tired of his rants. I could feel a headache mounting. Between the thoughts about Sebastian and his evil plans, Chris and his disappearing act in the moment of need, not to mention the anxiety about the future, I felt like I was going crazy.
"Honey, your father doesn't mean that ..." my mom interjected in her usual calming tone, her hand in mine, "he's only worried about you."
"I understand that. And I understand his anger, believe me, I'm angry at myself, too. But ..." tears prickled behind my eyes, "I don't know what to do, mom. I don't know where Sebastian is and even if I did, I shouldn't even consider keeping him in my life, given the circumstances, but meanwhile I'm here," I rubbed my belly, "carrying his baby."
"What do you mean, given the circumstances?" My dad inquired, eyeing me carefully. Right. I didn't tell them the truth about Sebastian Woodthorne – or rather, Tyler Banks. I didn't want them to worry, thinking I got into a mess, involving myself with a criminal. Because that's what Sebastian is, I guess. Despite what I saw in him, despite his sad story, he is a murderer. Or attempted murderer, to be exact, since Julia Woods is still alive. I don't want him dead, but I couldn't keep him in my life either, could I?
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Of all the things I thought I'd do in my life, I'll admit that getting questioned by the police wasn't one of them. I guess I should have expected it, given the circumstances, yet when a man and a woman dressed in grey suits showed up in my hospital room, I was taken aback. Sebastian escaped their custody. They don't know how, but he's in the wind.
Obviously, the first person they decided to talk to, was the so-called girlfriend. Little did they know that I had pretty much no clue as to who he was. Who he really was, that is. I could barely answer any of their questions, which meant having to endure their judgmental looks, especially from the woman. You'd think that, if either of them could have been more understanding, that would have been Detective Linda Meyer, but no, she was the harsher one. Screw female solidarity, I guess.
After almost a week, Dr. Moore finally decided I could go home. The good news was, even though my back suffered a trauma that only worsened its previous conditions, I didn't need a wheelchair or any other support. I should only be careful with lifting weights. She didn't explain whether that included a pregnant belly.
"Ready?" My mom asked, offering me a loving smile as she laid out clothes on the bed.
"Where's dad?" I wondered. After his rant 5 days ago, my dad calmed down, at least around me. I could see him and my mother arguing outside my room almost every day, but neither of them brought up Chris or Sebastian in front of me. I appreciated it. Especially because Chris didn't come back. I had really hoped he would, despite everything, but I guess learning about my pregnancy was too much for him.
Ironic, huh? I could survive to 10 years of relentless heartbreak, yet he couldn't endure the idea that I got knocked up by a criminal. I was almost ready to get over our issues, thinking at least he showed up for me when I needed him the most, despite our arguments, and yet ... I don't wanna blame him, but I don't know how to feel about his attitude either.
"Oh, he's waiting for us downstairs, sweetie," my mom stretched her arms, as if wanting to help me stand up, but I shook my head.
"Is he still mad at me?" I wondered, starting to take off the hospital gown to wear my clothes.
"Oh, honey, he was never mad at you. If anything, he's ... mad at himself."
I frowned, confused. "What? This has nothing to do with him."
She shrugged. "He's your dad, sweetie. Anything that happens to you, he feels it's his fault."
I heaved a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, mom. I should have been more careful."
"Honey ..."
"No, it's true. I shouldn't have trusted the first man that gave me attentions. And I mean, maybe he was too smooth, you know, too perfect. He didn't mind waiting until I came back from London, he didn't mind that my ... my heart was elsewhere. He was always so kind, so nice ... I should have known."
"Nonsense." My mother shook her head. "Being too nice isn't a crime. You couldn't have possibly known he wasn't who he claimed to be." When I told her the truth about Sebastian, my mom was shocked and scared, but in the end relieved that, more or less, I'd gotten out of it unscathed. Of course, we didn't say anything to dad. As far as he's concerned, Sebastian is just the umpteenth guy in this world that knocks up his girlfriend then runs off.
"I guess."
"I need to go sign some papers," my mom told me, "can you manage here alone?"
I nodded slowly. "Sure." I got dressed slowly, still feeling a little bit weak, but definitely stronger than a week ago. Physically, that is. Mentally and emotionally ... well, that was a whole different animal. I haven't heard from Adam either. I wonder what happened to him. I'd think he finally decided to take his brother's side, didn't I know about the complicated situation between him and Maggie. I just hope he's ok.
Laura and Beth were the most present ones this week, along with Nick and Shane. The latter one, especially, took advantage of the vicinity of this hospital to his faculty to drop by almost every day. None of them, however, dared mention Chris. In my mind, I assumed it was a sign he was at least okay. Had something happened to him, our friends would have told me, I hope.
I was almost done getting dressed, when I heard a knock on the door. Before I could say anything or even only finish buttoning up my shirt, Detective Dylan Powell came in. "Oh, shit ..." he immediately turned around when he saw me, "sorry."
I cracked a tiny smile as I buttoned up my shirt. "Has no one ever taught you to wait after knocking?"
He shrugged. "I'm a cop, people don't usually invite me in."
That did make me chuckle a bit. This week I've seen him and his partner more often than I'd have preferred, but opposite to Detective Meyer, Detective Powell was actually kind of nice. At the very least, he didn't seem to think I was some sort of degenerate fan of murderers, like those women that fangirl over the most ruthless criminals. Or if he thought it, he was mindful enough not to show it. "What do you need, Detective?" I asked, now done buttoning my shirt.
"Uh ... well ... nothing, actually."
I frowned, confused. "You can turn around now."
He did so, which had me meet his flustered smile. He was handsome, alright, not ... devilishly hot like Sebastian or sweetly sexy like Chris, but nonetheless good-looking. Maybe he wouldn't stand out in a crowd, but you might turn around to give him a better look if you saw him in the streets. Especially if he smiled like he was now, in that boyish yet ruggedly manly fashion only a cop in his early thirties could pull off. "Technically, I'm not ... here for you." He said.
I tilted my head to the side, surprised. "No?"
Detective Powell scratched the back of his head. "Uh ... well, I was just here ... me and my partner were just here, that is, to ask some follow-up questions to a victim of sexual assault."
"Oh ... um ... I hope she's ok?"
"He." The detective corrected me. "He is ... distraught, but physically recovering, yes." He pursed his lips for a moment. "Emotionally ... well, you know, these things aren't easy to get over."
"Especially not for a man, I guess." I murmured, more to myself than him.
"Indeed."
"Well, so, what are you doing here in my room?" I sat on the bed to put on my shoes, but bending down proved slightly more painful than I'd thought.
"Here, let me help." The man promptly grabbed my shoes, and even put them on for me, a coy smile on his face. For a moment, I wondered whether I was hallucinating. My head has been so full of thoughts, I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. I did think Sebastian was really just a gentleman, after all. I must be living in a world of fantasy, where people are nice because they want to be nice, and not because they have an agenda.
"I've seen enough crime shows, Detective," I mentioned, suspicious, when he pulled back up, "are you playing good cop-bad cop? Is your partner outside the room, waiting to barge in when your soft approach fails?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Ms. Dawson, my partner is still in the other room." He pursed his lips, returning serious for a moment. "She thought a ... female face might be more productive with the victim."
I gave him a sarcastic look. "Really? You left a victim of sexual assault with that ... woman?" I didn't want to speak ill of Detective Meyer just because she was rude to me, but I doubted very much of her ability to comfort victims of any kind, imagine sexual abuse.
Detective Powell pressed his lips. "Linda is ... well, she's a great cop, intuitive, smart and capable, just ... not particularly gifted when it comes to human interactions." He grimaced a bit. "Believe me, she's solved more cases than half the department, but ... there aren't many other colleagues that would work with her."
"You're the chosen martyr, then."
He smiled a bit. "I volunteered," he shrugged, "she has a lot more experience than me, I can learn a lot from her."
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Of course, he knew her better than me, I couldn't truly judge her based on a few minutes talk happened 3 times. Besides, I might have been less than courteous with her, too, given my state of mind. "So ..." I grabbed a hoodie, and put it on, "what can I do for you, Detective?"
"Like I said ... nothing." He offered me a kind smile. "I'm not here on official business, I just ... I know it's gonna sound creepy as fuck, but I'm just here to check on you, Ms. Dawson."
"Oh." I blinked my eyes, surprised. "Well, uh ... they're finally releasing me. I'm just waiting for my mother. She went to sign some paperwork."
"Good to know." The detective nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He seemed a bit nervous, but probably not because of me. Let me rephrase ... he seemed nervous, but not because he had some sort of crush on me. I couldn't help but feel there was something he needed to say yet he couldn't or didn't know how to.
"It was nice of you to check up on me, Detective," I forced out a polite smile. "I'm sorry I'm not ... great company lately."
He checked the door, then closed it. For a moment, I worried. Did I misread the whole situation? After Sebastian and his conniving smooth attitude, I couldn't trust my own judgement anymore. After all, I did spend 10 years completely in the dark, unable to see how my best friend manipulated me, using my own feelings against me.
"Ms. Dawson, I ... I shouldn't tell you this, my partner forbade me to ..."
I was relieved in a way. At the very least, I hadn't misread yet another character. At the same time, his hesitation could only mean it was about Sebastian. "What is it?" I asked, trying to sound and look nonchalant, but my head was already running all the possible scenarios. Was he dead? Did Julia's goons finally get to him? If he had succeeded in his murderous intentions, I'd have heard it on TV. Julia Woods isn't a random woman, every single network, both local and national, would talk about her assassination. Then again, I hadn't heard about the attempted murder either, until Chris told me.
"How ... how well did you know Tyler Banks-sorry, I mean ... Sebastian?"
"I told you and your partner multiple times, Detective." I frowned. "I've known him for about a month, maybe just a bit more than that. Couldn't be more than 6 weeks."
"No, I mean ... how much did you know about him?"
"I thought you weren't here for official business."
He took a deep breath. "Ms. Dawson, I'm not supposed to disclose this, and please, please, don't let it escape your lips, not even with your parents. I could get fired for this."
"Now you're really making me anxious." I sat on the edge of the bed, at the bottom, having no idea what to expect.
Detective Powell eyed the door again. "Your boyfriend was-"
"Ex." I corrected immediately. "Ex-boyfriend. At this point, it's obvious there is no relationship between us anymore. If there ever was one."
"Right," the cop nodded, coming just a little closer to me, "well your ex-boyfriend, you knew him as Sebastian Woodthorne ... the name was completely unfamiliar to us, that's why we didn't connect the dots right away. This whole mess looked like the usual car accident to my bosses, but my partner thought there was more to it."
"Well, you arrested him, didn't you?"
Detective Powell frowned. "Who told you that?"
"You did ... when we first met, you said he was in the wind."
"Yes, but I never said we arrested him." He blinked his eyes. "I said he was gone and we couldn't find him." He came even closer, just a couple of inches away from me. "Who told you we arrested him?"
"I must have misunderstood," I lied, not wanting to get Nurse Mona in trouble. "So, you never arrested Sebastian ... where is he then?"
Detective Powell eyed me suspiciously. "You do know that lying to a police officer can be considered obstruction of justice, right?"
"Now you sound just like your partner."
He heaved a deep sigh, then came to sit beside me. "This mess is much bigger than you, Ms. Dawson. You have no idea what kind of luck you've had."
"Really? I almost died and my ex wasn't who he said he was. Now I'm here pregnant with his baby." I scoffed. "So lucky, yep ..."
"You really don't know who Tyler Banks is, do you?"
I frowned, glancing at the cop. "Care to elaborate?"
"When the accident happened, he was brought here, just like you. His injuries, were, however, way less critical. He could have been released in a day or two."
"Wasn't he?"
"Not into police custody, no."
I was confused. Nurse Mona told me the cops had taken him, even though she wasn't sure why. Did she lie or did someone lie to her? "Who ... where ..." I shook my head, "I don't understand."
"Whoever came here and convinced medical staff to release your ex into their custody wasn't police." Detective Powell laid it out crystal clear for me. I immediately thought of the worst, having seen too many crime shows like this, but before I could say anything, the man added: "And I don't think it was his enemy either."
I was about to ask about Julia Woods and her goons, but I wasn't sure he knew about it. I didn't want to get Chris or his buddy in trouble. "Who was it, then?" I asked lowly, not wanting my emotions to seep through the cracks of my voice.
"Tell me who was Sebastian Woodthorne."
My eyes snapped to his – a shade of light brown that looked pretty good on him, I won't deny it. "You think I lied, don't you?" I asked back, standing up. "You're here acting like a friend because you think I lied and you want to know the real truth." I raised my voice, feeling once again betrayed, which is a sensation I've been getting a lot lately.
Detective Powell shook his head slowly. "I don't think you lied. Just ... recap your story for me, ok?"
I arched an eyebrow at him, unconvinced. "Isn't your partner waiting for you?"
He sighed, standing up. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to make you feel attacked. I just don't know how to ... tell you the whole thing without ..." he eyed my belly, "upsetting you."
"I'm way past upset, Detective." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I got into this huge mess simply because I'm an emotional idiot. I'm not upset, I'm angry." I admitted out loud. "I'm so fucking angry at myself." I started pacing the room. The detective working on my case probably wasn't the right person for this outburst, but I couldn't hold it any longer. Everyone else treated my like a fragile doll they couldn't risk troubling, I felt like a wild beast raging to slaughter anything and anyone that dared cross my path.
"It wasn't your fault, Ms. Dawson ..."
"Of fucking course it was!" I nearly yelled. "I slept with a man I barely knew, I got into a relationship with a man that never wanted to say a single word about himself. That would have alerted anyone. Anyone with a brain, that is. But not me!" I went on pacing the room, bracing myself. "All this just to get relief for my broken heart. How pathetic is that?"
"It's not ..."
"Have you ever been in love, Detective?" I froze in my tracks, staring straight into his light brown eyes. "Have you ever loved someone unrequitedly for so long that you can't even remember what it's like not to feel that excruciating ache in your heart every day? Have you ever loved so deeply as to completely lose touch with reality and believe anything and everything they say, even though the whole world tries to warn you?" I didn't wait for his answer. "I have." I didn't even want to hide the tears prickling behind my eyes, but I swore to myself this would be the last time I ever cried, pitying myself for a life I chose, I put myself through.
Nobody forced me to stay when loving Chris hurt more than I could endure. Nobody forced me to jump into Sebastian's arms, thinking that would be the solution. My dad blames Chris, my mom blames Sebastian, my friends blame the circumstances, luck ... anything. All the people around me blame anyone and anything other than the sole culprit. Me. As if I couldn't possibly make a bad decision, as if I couldn't do something reckless. As if I were nothing but a faithful dog that never upsets anyone.
When did I become so pathetic? When did I become a doormat that lets everyone decide for her? When did I become so spineless as to make everyone that loves me believe I need to be endlessly protected, like those pandas that have been so used to being spoiled by humans that they don't even know how to survive on their own anymore.
I dropped back onto the bed, and heaved a deep sigh, tears fogging my sight. "I'm sorry, Detective," I murmured, feeling ashamed, "I'm just ... tired."
"Understandable."
I turned to him. "You're way too nice to be a cop." I joked.
He smiled kindly. "Yeah, my mom says the same." He shrugged. "According to her, I should have been a dentist, like her. But my dad was a cop, my grandpa was a cop ... you know how these things go." He laughed a bit, which was contagious, so much that even I smiled through tears.
"Well, I'm sorry I blurted all that out on you." I mumbled. "I shouldn't have."
"I have three sisters, Ms. Dawson," his smile widened enough to let his loving brother side seep through, "you think I'm not used to hearing these kinds of outbursts?" He chuckled. "I've been hearing one every two months since I was 13 and my eldest sister got divorced."
I couldn't help but mirror his smile. "Ok, you're really too sweet to be a cop." I teased.
He shrugged. "I like helping people." He eyed me for a moment. "You should skip town, Ms. Dawson." He claimed, serious.
"Don't cops normally say the opposite?" I chuckled, but he remained dead serious.
"You know him as Sebastian Woodthorne." Detective Powell mentioned, "I know him as Tyler Banks, alias Terrance Whitmore, alias Peter Norwood, alias Hermann Klein, alias Brent Fitzgerald ... I could go on for hours, listing all his names."
"I ... don't understand. What are you saying?"
"You said you met him at the Woods mansion."
"Yes ..."
"He was a gardener or a mechanic, you weren't sure." The detective continued. "He told you he did whatever Mrs. Woods required."
"Yes ..."
"He got hired under a false name. To spy on her. Tyler Thorne – that's his actual name, yes, but ditched the last name pretty soon – was born from an extramarital affair between the late Mr. Woods and Christina Thorne, his secretary."
"I know."
Dylan Powell's light brown eyes snapped to mine, immediately shifting from understanding and kind to investigative. "You knew?"
"Not ... always. I was told after ... well, after the accident. Five days ago."
"Who gave you such information? And why didn't you tell us?" He arched an eyebrow.
"Because I couldn't believe it." I shrugged, hands under my thighs, eyes on the floor. "I couldn't believe that such a sweet man was ... but the circumstances, I ..."
Detective Powell stood up again, and checked the door one more time, to be sure no one was coming. "If anybody asks you, he did not attempt to her life."
"You mean Julia-"
"Forget that name, Ms. Dawson." He sent me a worried look. "Forget what you think you know about this story. It's for your own good. The man you met is far more dangerous than you think."
"Is it true that his mom was ... that they were in a similar car accident and ..."
"Officially, Tyler Thorne died with his mother at the age of 10." The detective walked back to me. "Unofficially ... he's very much alive and he sought revenge. But if he could, it was only because he had the means for it."
"He never said what he did for a living." I repeated to myself more than to the cop.
"For a reason, Ms. Dawson, for a good reason." He sighed heavily, eyes on the door, as if afraid of being caught. When he turned back to me, I felt shivers down my spine, especially at his next words: "He's not dead and he knows about the pregnancy. His kind is pretty obsessed with heirs."
"Heirs?"
"The man you know as Sebastian Woodthorne is one of the most vicious, most ruthless drug lords in the city, Ms. Dawson." He hinted at my belly. "And you're carrying his child. Do you really think he's going to randomly forget about you?"
"What ... what are you implying?"
"Skip town, Vivian." Detective Powell claimed, using my name for the first time. "You don't wanna wait until he finds you, trust me. And you definitely don't want to leave your child in his hands." He pulled out a business card. "I had to fight my partner over this, but in the end, she agreed there was no need for us to tell the feds about your case. We kept you off every report, officially, you're just a random woman that got into a car accident we had to investigate just out of zealousness. Officially, your case was open and shut in a matter of hours. Luckily, I got to Nurse Mona before she could contact her friend at the FBI and I convinced her to lie to you about it."
"You did what?" I asked, perplexed more than outraged, my heart beating fast at the thought that Sebastian wasn't just a liar, he was a highly dangerous liar.
"It doesn't matter." Detective Powell handed me the card, which only bore his initials and a number. "This is my private cellphone number, only my mother has it, and now you do."
Up until now, I'd thought my biggest issue would be raising a child on my own and forgetting once and for all about the love of my life. But now ... realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "You think I'm in danger."
Detective Powell shifted in his place, checking the door again before turning back to me, his light brown eyes staring deep into my soul somehow. "I sincerely hope I'm mistaken about his intents, but I'm pretty sure you didn't accidentally end up pregnant, Vivian. Tyler Banks is the kind of man that knows what he wants and always gets it. And right now, what he wants are you and your child."