Jason Pinter - The Darkness

“I’m fine,” he said. “A little ringing in my ears, but it’s going away.”

“You were…there?” she said. He didn’t say anything.

Then Amanda wiped at his lapel, her hand coming away with gray dust. “Is this…”

“Christ,” Henry said, jerking up and going into the bathroom. She heard the water running, and a few minutes later Henry came back out wearing shorts and a

T-shirt. Normally she’d make some sort of suggestive comment about how he looked in shorts, but her mind couldn’t even fathom levity right now. “Sorry about that.

I didn’t even realize it.”

Then Henry actually laughed a little bit. Amanda wanted to join him, but her mouth wouldn’t work. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

Amanda shook her head. She felt her face grow hot, her eyes beginning to water. No, she told herself. She refused to cry. This was what their relationship was. This was what Henry was.

She couldn’t protect him. Not right now. Maybe not ever. If he’d been closer to the explosion…if Kaiser had invited Henry upstairs for an interview…if a chunk of brick or concrete had come down at the right angle…he wouldn’t be here right now.

Amanda stood up. She went over to the table, picked up the wine and took a swig right from the bottle.

When she put it back down and wiped her mouth, she heard Henry whistle from the couch. “That must have felt good.”

Amanda shook her head. “No. Not really.”

“I understand,” he said. “I didn’t mean to joke about it. I know what you must be thinking. I’m fine. Not hurt one bit. They weren’t trying to hurt me. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Always seems to be that way,” Amanda said, feeling the wine warming her body, her mind going fuzzy. It felt good, and she didn’t try to stop it.

“You know I don’t mean for things like this to happen,”

Henry said. He walked up behind her, put his arms around her waist, leaned in close. She felt her eyes close, breathed him in, brought her arms around his and held him tight. She felt his breath on her neck, taking her away. “I love you, and I also want to be the best at my job I can possibly be. I’m not scared of chasing stories like this. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I’ve bee through enough the past few years, a lot of it with you, to the point where I know this is what I’m meant to do.”

“I know it is,” Amanda said. “I’m not sure if I wish it wasn’t, but I know that’s what you are and what you do.

And I’m proud of you. I just…you don’t know what it’s like to hear the person you love say things like that.”

“No, I don’t,” he said. “And God willing, I’ll never have to.”

“I hope not either.” She turned around. Kissed him long and hard. “So, at least tell me this. Did you get anything?”

Henry unwrapped his arms from her and went back to the couch. He sat down, and she joined him. Henry scratched his head. She could tell he’d learned something, and was troubled by it.

“I got a call today. From someone I wasn’t really expecting to hear from, like, ever.”

“Your dad,” Amanda guessed.

“No,” Henry said, somewhat relieved. “But you’re close. Paulina Cole.”

“No freaking way,” she said. “Why the hell would that bitch call you?”

“Something happened to her. Recently. Someone kidnapped her, threatened to kill her daughter.”

“Oh God,” Amanda said. “What happened?”

“The guy let her go, but asked her to do some sort of favor for him. She wouldn’t tell me what she had to do.”

“Was it,” Amanda said, grimacing, “sexual?”

“I didn’t get that feeling. But she wants to find out who this guy is, but can’t go to the cops. My guess is she thinks this guy is connected. And maybe he is.”

“So she came to you,” Amanda said.

“She told me if I found the guy, I could have whatever story there was.”

“If there is one. If this guy isn’t just some loon who took umbrage with one of her scorch-the-earth columns.”

“I get the feeling it was more serious than that. One thing I know about Paulina Cole, she doesn’t scare easily.

This guy was serious, and he scared her so bad that she won’t go to the cops and came to me. I have access to the cops she doesn’t. And I can investigate without drawing attention, because if this guy does have a mole in the

NYPD he wouldn’t expect anything from my end. They’re watching her. Not me.”

“But if they find out that someone is asking questions about this guy, it won’t matter who it comes from.”

“Curt,” Henry said. “I can trust Curt.”

“Maybe,” Amanda said. “But who can he trust?”

Henry didn’t seem like he could answer that, so he just leaned back. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think you might be putting him in danger?”

Amanda said.

“When I talk to him,” Henry said, “I’ll tell him everything. Including that we think they might have people inside the PD. Curt is smart. If there’s information to get, he can get it without drawing suspicion.”

“And how do you know he’ll do it?”

Henry looked at her, his eyes full of confidence.

“Because Curt is like me.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I suppose he is. What are you going to tell Jack?”

Henry sighed. Looked back over at the table. Stared at the bottle of wine, debating pouring another glass. As much as she enjoyed watching him pass out, watching him breathe as he slept, she was kind of hoping he’d be in the mood to fool around a little.

“That’s a little more complicated.” He looked at her.

“I can’t tell him.”

“About Paulina?”

Henry nodded. “I have to cue Jack in on the lead, but if he finds out I got it from Paulina, that I’d even spoken to the woman who tried to ruin his career…he’d never speak to me again. Plus Jack deserves better.”

“From who?” Amanda asked.

“From me. I don’t really know. But the bottom line is that he doesn’t need to know. Not right now. If we catch this guy, it’s old news. But for now…I can’t do that to him.”

“You know him better,” Amanda said. “If you think it’s the right thing to do, then trust your judgment. But at some point you need to tell him, because he’ll eventually find out.”

“I know and I will. But now’s not that time. We’re getting close on this story, and I still need to know who was really responsible for my brother’s death. Somehow this all connects with the Fury.”

“So you do believe this boogeyman exists.”

“I think there’s someone who knew about the plans to kill my brother before anyone else, and maybe even pulled the strings. Stephen was working for some sort of cartel, and in every organization, legitimate or not, there’s someone at the top of the ladder.”

“You think that might be this guy?”

Henry shook his head. “The CEOs never get their hands dirty. They have people below them to do that for them. If this person does exist, he’s been able to hide in the shadows because he didn’t take stupid risks. The blond guy is acting on this person’s behalf. So even if he’s not the gold at the end of the rainbow, he knows where the pot is located.”

“So what are you then, some sort of freaky ass leprechaun?”

Henry laughed. “Got me the luck of the Irish.”

“You’re not Irish,” Amanda replied.

“Yeah, but Jack is. I knew he was back for a reason.”

“Come to bed. I hear leprechauns are lucky.”

“Are lucky, or get lucky?”

Amanda stood up. Pulled her shirt over her head.

Smiled at him as he gazed up and down her body.

“I guess we’ll have to find out.”