M Sellars - Love Is The Bond

“Funeral?” I asked.

“Yeah, the funeral,” he stressed bitterly.

His tone lit a wide swath through the fog of my obfuscation, and I seized on a vague memory that his father had recently crossed over. The remembrance made me feel like I wasn’t being much of a friend to him; but then, like I had told him, I wasn’t feeling much sympathy for the rest of the world right now anyway.

It also didn’t help much that the man next to me had been pointing a gun at my wife only a few hours ago, ready to pull the trigger if he felt it warranted. I still wasn’t sure that I had forgiven him for that trespass against our friendship, and I had already told him as much.

After a weighty pause he said, “You know I wasn’t aiming for a kill shot, Rowan. Right?”

I knew he couldn’t read my mind, but I got the distinct impression that everything I had said to him while standing on that motel parking lot was still weighing on him just as heavily as it was me. I suppose his sudden return to the subject was a verbal testament of that fact.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I replied coldly.

“I was doin’ my job, Row. I wouldn’t have killed her.”

“Maybe so, but did you really have to treat her the way you did?”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Cuffing her on the ground like some kind of hardened criminal. I mean, come on… She’s over a foot shorter than you and barely a hundred pounds soaking wet, Ben. Not to mention that there were three of you. She was confused and scared. She wasn’t dangerous.”

“She took Mandalay’s weapon, Row.”

“You saw what she was wearing. Where was she going to hide it?”

“That’s not the point.”

“She wasn’t dangerous-she isn’t dangerous, Ben.”

“Tell that ta’ Door Mat.”

“That was different. He obviously wanted the abuse.”

“Uh-huh…Yeah, well then forget him. Just grab a mirror an’ look at what ‘barely a hundred pounds soakin’ wet’ did ta’ you.”

“That was different too.”

“Yeah, right. Well, I wasn’t interested in wearin’ her claw marks. Neither were Ackman or Drew. It was just procedure, Row.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Let’s just drop it, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. But, the point is I wouldn’t have shot to kill. I just want ya’ ta’ know…” He ended the sentence in a mumble, allowing his voice to trail off.

A tense silence fell between us, and I re-inspected my progress on the coffee cup’s disintegrating rim for a long moment while I listened to him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“Look, if you need to go…” I offered, not looking up.

He replied without hesitation. “Like I said, it can wait. Unless, you’re just tryin’ ta’ get me ta’ leave.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“Well, shouldn’t you call your sister then?”

“I’m bettin’ she’s already seen the news, Row. She’ll prob’ly call me.”

A faint noise fell in behind his words. Instead of ignoring it, however, this time my attention had been pulled back far enough into the here and now to realize I was hearing a door open behind us as someone entered the office. I turned to glance over my shoulder and saw Special Agent Mandalay coming through the opening.

“Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” Ben asked her as he shot a look her way then did a double take and came up from his seat even as he was turning to fully face her.

“No,” she replied. “I should be right where I am.”

“You positive ‘bout that?”

“The doctor released me hours ago, Ben,” she returned. “Lighten up.”

“So, you get stitches?”

“Twelve,” she said as she reached up and gently touched the gauze bandage taped behind her ear.

“You got a concussion?”

“Mild.”

“‘Kay then, so shouldn’t ya’ be resting or somethin’?”

“I need to stay awake, so I might as well be useful,” she replied. “Besides, I needed to be down here to pull some strings.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “So how’s that goin’?”

“We may have it worked out,” she told him. “My SAC’s got to file something, there’s no way around that. But, I think I’ve convinced him to just turn me in for a letter of censure for temporarily misplacing my sidearm. If we can do that, and make a few calls to the local authorities regarding the actual assault, Felicity should walk away from this okay as long as nothing else changes.”

Ben gave her a nod and the grim look on his face left me with the impression that they now shared a secret to which I was not going to be made privy. I assumed it had something to do with the letter of reprimand she was inviting upon herself. While my attitude toward the rest of the world still hadn’t changed much, I felt I should at least apologize to her.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “You shouldn’t be taking this on yourself.”

“Don’t be,” she answered with a smile. “It’s okay.”

“But how is this going to affect your career?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Rowan. I’ll be fine. Let’s just worry about you and Felicity right now.”

I didn’t press the subject. There was someone else on my mind whose importance outweighed everyone, including me, and Constance had just uttered her name.

“Have you seen her?” I asked hopefully.

She nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I’m going to take you to see your wife.”

I don’t know how long we stood there in the tight embrace. It could have been a minute; it could have been an hour. It didn’t matter to me if it was forever, as long as I could hold my wife and feel her heart beating, her warm breath against my neck, and even her hot tears dampening my shoulder.

At the moment, life was far from perfect, but it had taken immense strides from where it had been less than a day before.

We had been left alone in the interview room, Ben and Constance excusing themselves, ostensibly to get coffee. However, it was fairly obvious that the ploy was actually to give us a moment or two of privacy, for which I was appreciative. They even managed to get the agent who had been conducting the interview to join them, although I was certain that the door was still being guarded.

“Oh, Caorthann…” Felicity murmured through her quiet sobs as she lifted her head and gazed into my face. Concern welled in her wet eyes as she gently brushed her fingertips against the scabbed over welts along my cheek and whispered, “Gods… What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” I told her.

“Did I do this to you?” she asked.

“No,” I replied. “Someone who was keeping you from me did.”

She dropped her face back against my shoulder and continued to sniffle as more tears made their way onto my shirt.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m here. It’s going to be fine.”

I knew my words had to sound like trite dialogue from a B-movie, but there was nothing else for me to say.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, then…” she said, the Celtic brogue thick in her voice.

As much as I adored her on again-off again accent, I never could have imagined how hearing it at this moment could make me feel. Even with the heavy emotion threading through her words, its very sound was a calming melody whispering lightly in my ears.

“I know,” I soothed. “I know.”

“Aye,” she said. “I killed him, didn’t I?”

“No,” I told her. “No. He’s alive and he’ll be fine.”

I felt her shudder against me as she released a relieved sigh and tightened her grip.

“You’re certain?” she whispered.