Chapter Twenty
One Week Later
"No wonder kids aren't good at math. These instructions are pathetic." Sylvester
was sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating yogurt and reading what looked
like Ralph's fifth grade math book.
"If they're so bad, maybe you should write your own textbook," Toby said
absently as he sat on the opposite corner of the table. He was feeding Ferret
Bueller bit and pieces from a bowl of breakfast cereal as he stared across
the garage at Walter and Paige.
"There's something different about them," he muttered under his breath.
Sly glanced up from the book. "They have PTSD. You said so yourself."
Toby didn't answer as Happy walked up to the refrigerator. "Why are you letting
that dirty animal sit on the table?" she asked as she got a bottle of juice.
"He's not dirty." the shrink replied. "I just gave him a bath this morning."
"I wasn't talking about the ferret, Doc." She smiled before she uncapped
her drink and took a sip.
"Very funny."
"What's wrong with him?" she asked Sylvester.
"He's been staring at Walter and Paige for the past ten minutes."
"There's something different about them that I just can't put my finger on,"
said Toby, holding out a raisin. Ferret Bueller grabbed it with his paws
and began nibbling on the dried fruit with his tiny, sharp teeth.
"They have PTSD," said the mechanic, echoing Sly's earlier response. "I don't
have to be a Harvard trained psychiatrist to know that."
Toby shook his head. "No, it's something else." He continued to watch as
his boss and the liaison interacted with each other. Paige was frowning as
she pointed at something on Walter's computer screen. A few minutes later,
she touched the genius on the arm when he got to his feet then they shared
a whispered conversation. Walter then placed his hand on Paige's shoulder
for a brief moment.
"Oh my God."
"What?" Happy and Sylvester said at the same time.
"Nothing. I thought I left my stove on, but then I remembered I never turn
on it." He slid off the table and faced Happy. "I did turn something else
on, though."
"Ew." Sly picked up his yogurt and left the kitchen.
"I agree. Ew." Happy sat down in the chair vacated by the human calculator.
Toby plopped down in the seat next to her. "Did I ever tell you how I really
enjoyed my special treat?"
"Yes. And if you mention it again here at work, I will kill you."
"Fair enough." He turned so he could once again observe Walter and Paige
who were now staring intensely at each other, which only confirmed his suspicion.
She smiled as she lightly touched the other man's hand before walking over
to her desk. Walter's eyes followed her the whole way, straying downward
until she sat down, and even then they remained focused on her.
The awkwardness between them was different, he noted. There was an added
element of intimate awareness their previous interactions had lacked. Toby
smiled. At least one good thing had come out of their ordeal. Walter O'Brien
had finally gotten laid. It was about damn time.
Paige strolled over to Walter's desk, setting a mug down on it. The scent
of cinnamon filled the air and he smiled. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"A little sore," he admitted, knowing she would find out the truth anyway.
"I'll be okay, though. Thanks." He took a sip of the coffee.
"Just don't overdo it. It's only your first day back." She glanced around
the room. "Why is Toby staring at us?"
"Because he's an idiot." Walter fished a business card of his shirt pocket.
"Did he give you one of these?"
She took it from him. "Yeah, Doctor Rizzuto,"she said. "I don't know why
he thinks we need to see a therapist. It's silly. I feel fine."
"Me, too," Walter lied. Every second he was away from Paige, he felt anxious,
worried something would happen to her and he wouldn't be there to protect
her. He couldn't sleep and if he did, vivid nightmares woke him up, leaving
him sweating and shaking. Glancing up at Paige, he noticed the dark circles
under her eyes her makeup couldn't hide and knew she was lying, too.
"So, ah, have you finished your report yet?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Almost," he said as he resumed typing. She moved closer to his chair so
she could read over his shoulder.
"Wait," she said, pointing to the screen, "you think Mary Jo is a federal
agent?"
Walter frowned. "Who's Mary Jo?"
"The woman who helped us."
"Oh." He wondered how she had learned the woman's name. "Yes, I think she's
a government mole. Why else would she help us like she did?"
"I thought she felt sorry for us," she said. "Maybe she didn't like seeing
us being bullied and beaten and. . ." She pressed her lips together as her
face paled. "I don't think she's a fed."
Images of the bastard who had put his filthy hands on Paige flashed through
his mind. The same helpless rage which had burned through him then threatened
to consume him again. Taking a couple of breaths, he put the finishing touches
on his account.
"Maybe not," he conceded as he hit save then print. He got to his feet, intending
to retrieve the report from the communal printer, but Paige's hand on his
arm stopped him.
"Did you erase it?" she murmured softly.
"Yes, I hacked into the security feeds and deleted it permanently. No trace
anyone else had made a copy."
"Thank goodness. I can't even imagine if someone saw. . ."
"No one else ever will, I promise." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder,
surreptitiously sliding his fingers down her arm then lifting them away before
he did something totally inappropriate, like taking her into his arms and
kissing her senseless.
He made the mistake of looking at her lips, saw the tip of her tongue slid
between them. His breathing grew erratic and he noticed hers did as well.
Lifting his eyes, he could tell she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Then his right side twinged with pain, and he had to swallow a gasp. The
doctor had told him no strenuous activity for three more weeks. Which certainly
counted out the specific activity he had in mind at the moment.
"I, uh, I better get my report," he said. He took a step toward the printer,
only to have Paige move in the same direction. She smiled and touched his
hand.
"I should get to work," she said. Neither of them moved for a few seconds,
then she spun around and walked to her desk. Walter watched her go, his eyes
straying downward to observe the swaying of her bottom.
Once she was seated, she smiled at him before turning her attention to a
pile of papers. Walter glanced away to see Toby grinning at him like an idiot.
Dammit, who knew what the genius psychiatrist had read into the scene he
had just witnessed. Probably something spot on and none of his business.
Reaching his hand into his trouser pocket, he felt the thumb drive he had
placed there earlier that morning. . .before he had erased the video feed.
His promise to Paige still held true. No one else was ever going to see it.
FIN