Persistence

Chapter 10
Rory sat at home on her slightly aged cough, gripping the handle of her coffee mug. She was mentally distracted, had forgotten about the coffee inside of it and let it get cold. She was now contemplating whether or not to heat it up again. She decided to get up, put the damned thing in the microwave and finish it, no sense in wasting a perfectly good cup of coffee. She wandered over to the kitchen to do so, and leaned against the counter for a moment, thinking. She began pacing lightly through the kitchen, her mind wandering to other things, such as work, Todd, and Emma. She pondered about how she thought Emma was doing. Was she getting any better? It had to be so painful, both physically and emotionally to go through that. Emma had always been a very strong person. Did it make it worse that Emma knew who caused this agony? Or was it completely awful in every possible way already? These questions would most likely never spill from Rory’s lips. She was too careful around Emma’s emotions. Emma was secretive. She didn’t like being pitied; she liked taking care of things on her own time. It made her feel a sense of accomplishment. Of course, Aiden always wanted to help her, and when situations became simply too much to bare alone he was always there. He was almost too perfect sometimes. Rory remembered the first time she met him. Doubts flooding her teenage mind, she looked him up and down, walked a full circle around him, nodded in approval to Emma, causing Emma to let out a small giggle, and dismissed him much like an heiress would dismiss a servant with the words, “Carry on.”
Where’d Todd go? Rory thought.
Unknown to Rory, Todd was at the hospital screaming his lungs out at a policeman standing by the lobby doors, irritated at him.
“Why can’t you just do your fucking job for once in your damn lives, and go look for her?!” he screeched.
“Sir, please. When we know something about the victim, we will confront you immediately, but please calm down and let us work.” the policeman said in an annoyingly calm tone.
“She has a name!” He yelled, glaring at the incompetent man.
“Sir, I’m sorry you’re upset, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you don’t hold back on this attitude,” the policeman replied, still completely calm, too calm.
Aiden was walking up, preparing himself for the anticipated uneasy news. He approached a policeman leaning against his vehicle writing something down on a notepad, scribbling away as he listened to another man talking on a radio. He waited until it seemed a good moment, seeing as the man appeared to be done writing, and spoke. His voice would be shaky. He didn’t want to hear what he well knew would be devastating news, but he had to know.
“E-Excuse me, officer?” Aiden managed to say.
“Yes, sonny?” The elderly officer replied, turning to Aiden with a friendly smile.
“M-My fiancée, Emma, Emma Ross, she’s in that building. I, uh, was wondering…if she’s alright.” Aiden’s eyes strove desperately to keep from watering, without succeeding very well so far.
“Oh, gosh son, I really wish I could tell you she was without being made into a liar.” He glanced up at Aiden’s tear-filled eyes and placed his hand on Aiden’s shoulder to politely attempt to comfort him.
Aiden couldn’t speak.
“I’m real sorry about this, boy...Tell you what? I’ll tell you all I know, when I know it, personally. We don’t know where he took her. He posed as the fiancé, well you, and drove off with her in a yellow Ferrari.”
Aiden’s expression turned; he was confused.
“Who is…he?” Aiden questioned with an eyebrow raised.
The policeman looked down at the notepad he had been using and flipped the top page back and forth. “Ah, here it is,” he said looking at the words on the page on the very top. “The new secretary informed us of one Scott Hunter, it seems.”
Aiden’s entire body froze; his heart skipping about eight beats. His eyes widened. Why did he even have to ask? He should know that by now. Well, he knew why. He just didn’t like that answer. He didn’t want to believe it wasn’t actually true, that it wasn’t some sick, twisted joke; when he knew full well it was, in fact, reality. He leaned up against the police car for support as he could hardly breathe let alone stand on his own two feet.
Todd now noticed Aiden in the parking lot as he was about to grab his phone out of his car and call Rory for an update on the situation, figuring she deserved to know. Infuriated, he stormed over to where Aiden was standing. He opened his mouth to begin yelling when he noticed a small tear glisten in the sunlight from below Aiden’s rough hand that was now covering his eyes and half of his nose. Watching the sunlight filled tear make it way to the pavement below and crash violently against the floor. Todd’s anger melted like an ice cube in hell. Aiden removed his hand exposing his tear swollen eyes and looked up at Todd’s twisted expression. He ran his hand up past his forehead, and slid it into his thick brown hair, as his head fell forward. He couldn’t look at Todd’s face. He was too ashamed. Gripping a rather large chunk of his hair in frustration, Aiden stared aimlessly down at the melancholy parking lot pavement.
“Aid, I-” Todd stared down at him, interrupted.
“I’m sorry.” Aiden said, the words flooding out of his quivering lips, along with the tears from his tired eyes.
Aiden was surprised he was still standing, and wasn’t as shocked as he was forced to slide his body down the side of the police car to land sitting firmly on the ground underneath him.
Rory was still at home. Completely forgetting the fact that she had, yet again, forgotten about her coffee, she moved aimlessly through the house, stopping at the couch to sit momentarily every once in a while. She was caught completely off guard when the doorbell rang, so much so that she literally jumped. She gathered herself, and began walking toward the front door. The bell rang again, which just irritated her. She despised impatient people who couldn’t wait five more damn seconds for a person to answer the door. She reached for the knob, twisting it and exposing the person behind it. Her eyes narrowed at the figure staring back at her.
“Hello Lorelei,” The women said, an almost devious grin stretching its way across her face.
“Nichole,” Rory said with disgust in her tone to acknowledge her greeting, her eyes tightening into a fine line.
“May I come in?” the grin grew wider.
“Of course,” Rory stepped behind the door to make way for Nichole to pass, as there was limited space in the entry way to her home.
Nichole snatched the door knob from the outside of the door, pulled it back quickly and slammed it back against Rory. Rory slid to the ground, unconscious. Nichole watched the body fall to the floor and snickered, how mature. Nichole was about to close the door again, when she heard a vibrating noise. She stopped. What was that coming from? She slipped her hand into her pocket and grabbed her phone to pull it out into her sight. She peered at the front screen of her phone; it wasn’t her.
“Are you ringing?” She said glancing at the man behind her.
“I’m sorry?” Scott questioned.
“That vibrating, is that your phone?”
“No, I would have felt it.”
He moved closer to her and the door. Placing his arm around her waist he said, “Check her pockets.”
She kissed him on the cheek, as a yes without words and obeyed. She leaned over to check Rory’s pockets as promised, and Scott stood back at a distance from the door. She ignored his subtle move and reached into the pocket where the voicemail alert sound was coming from, pulling out the small phone in her boney hands.
Emma’s unconscious body lie, tossed along the leather back seat of Scott’s Ferrari. Her head injury was not a severe one; she wasn’t going to suffer any real trauma to the head. However, it was enough to make her lose consciousness temporarily. Scott had made his way down the slanted hill, searched for endless hours, and finally found Emma along the edge of the riverbank, yesterday evening. Muttering profanities to himself, he had lifted her body carefully, for he did still care about her in some odd, not understandable, sickening way, he loved her and cared for her. He eased his way up the steep hill; he was built in a way that allowed him to do this, and reached the bright, screaming yellow car he had been driving. No cars where on this car at the moment, which came to his advantage. He draped her gently along the top of the trunk so he could pull open the door to the backseat. Heading back to the back of the car, where Emma still lay on the hood of trunk, He wrapped his muscular arms underneath her body, to lift her again. He had paused for a moment to look down at her face. Her eyes were closed, she looked…peaceful. He ran his hand softly across her cheek and continued to walk to the open backseat door. Scott was extremely careful when placing her in the back of the car he also cherished deeply. He set her head down, bending in an awkward position to do so, on the leather of the backseat, letting go very slowly. Letting go of his other hand wrapped around her waist, he slipped out of the back of the car. From there he continued to Nichole’s house.
Nichole was, of course, eager to accept Scott’s request for assistance on attempting to destroy Miss Ross’s relationship with Mister Morrow. Having the odd notion that being with Scott would make Aiden jealous, she practically threw herself at him. Kissing him constantly, putting her arms around him while he was driving, showing him her bra, the list was endless. She was relentless, a sick, psychotic woman in need of more than your average therapy session. Scott nudged her away and ignored her gestures. He wanted Emma.
Scott now leaned over her body, staring at her pale, bruised face. He reached down and lightly slid his hand across her cheek. Removing a small eyelash from the top of her cheek with his thumb, he took a good look at her entire body. When he looked at her, his heart always beat a little faster. He reached down to carefully place his fingers underneath her hair to lift her head ever so slightly and kissed her gently on the cheek. Emma’s head moved slightly in response, her eyes still closed.
“Aiden?” she questioned, almost whispering, weak and unknowing.
Scott’s anger erupted from himself and he raised his hand above his head. Emma’s eyes struggled to open, but managed to. She saw his hand for a fraction of second and attempted to flinch. Scotts hand shot across the skin of her cheek, in the jilt of pain.