"You've already murdered one person with your stupidity and your arrogant do-gooder insistence," he'd snarled, "your 'holier than thou' idiocy that sent you stumbling through something that anyone with an IQ higher than that of a goldfish would know was certain death. But you just had to, didn't you?" Lauren's friend was sobbing and terrified, huddled in a corner of her little flat and slumped on the floor, the pictures scattered in front of her. "I should have you killed tonight," Thomas's voice was more terrifying by its indifference. "A quick finish for a stupid little girl. If my partners had discovered this first, they would have sold you into a whorehouse, Mexico, perhaps, or Saudi Arabia. Stupid little girls are quite popular there, they so enjoy breaking them." Macie's horrified weeping was louder now, and Thomas irritably straightened his cuffs. "You care so little for my wife that you'd sign her death warrant as well?" Her desperate brown eyes were wide, owlish as she couldn't break his contemptuous stare. Leaning back, he narrowed his eyes. "What do you think I should do with you, Macie? A foolish creature like you, thinking you could damage us? Expose The Corporation?" he chuckled humorously, "The only reason that poor sod-" he nodded to the dead man's photo, "-had to die was because he was too low-level for us to have bothered to own him." Leaning closer, Thomas watched Macie shrink back, still sobbing and shaking her head. "What should I do with you?"
Macie managed to get a few sentences out through her weeping. "...Never tell anyone... go away... never see me again... swear..."
Rising, Number Two of Jaguar Holdings made his way over to her, pulling a gun from a shoulder holster. "Now, why would I believe that? You didn't care enough about your life or mywife's-"taking in a deep breath, Thomas forced himself to be calm, "-to shut up and leave it alone when it was clear what you were dealing with. Why should I trust you now?" He lifted the gun, watching Macie try to crab-walk away from him, tears and snot running down her face, shaking her head over and over, promising him anything if he would just- Blinking, Williams forced himself back into the moment. This was his Lauren's foolish but well-intentioned best friend. She thought she was saving Lauren fromhim. "Because I find I have a dangerous softness for my bride," he spat, "I will spare your life. There is an opening in the Berlin Philharmonic. They have accepted you. You have a flat in the city by the rehearsal hall." She was shuddering with the effort to stop crying, he noted dispassionately. "You will never return here. You will never speak of The Corporation. You will never speak of, or to my wife again. Is this all quite clear?" She was nodding frantically, as if a single nod would change his mind and the gun would come back out. Thomas thrust the photo of the dead detective into her face again, almost enjoying her stifled shriek. "If you do not learn from this, the next picture you see before I put a bullet in your brain will be the dead body of your dear best friend Lauren." Macie was looking at him with horror now, as if this mess was somehow of his making, rather than hers. "Do you understand?" She nodded again, as fast as she could. "DO YOU!" Thomas shouted into her tear-soaked face.
This time the girl nearly screamed, "Yes! Yes, I swear! I swear!"
Bringing himself back to the present and the warm body of his wife, Thomas realized with some surprise that she was clinging to him, arms around his neck and thanking him repeatedly in her sweet, tremulous voice. His arms automatically went around her, feeling her little body shake. Of course. It was more than just gratitude, he thought, Lauren was made to love. And if he was all she had; she would love him.
"Shhh..." he soothed tenderly, kissing her cheeks, cradling her wet face in his palms, "everything's all right now. Your friend is safe." As he expected (hoped?) his bride covered his face with kisses, thanking him between each one. And when Lauren shyly lifted one leg to wrap over his waist, Thomas hid his smile.
Chapter 23 – Accepting the Unacceptable
In which Lauren is inspired.
When Lauren woke the next morning, Thomas was knotting his tie in the mirror, and he glanced over with a smile. "Why don't you go back to sleep?" he suggested, dressing in a suit. “There’s no reason to rise so early.”
"Oh..." her disappointed little voice came from under the mountain of pale linen, "you're going into work?" It was a Sunday, but in The Corporation's world, days of the week meant nothing.
Smiling gently, Thomas leaned down to kiss her, looping his tie. "Only for a short meeting or two. If you're not sleepy, why don't you head down to Selfridge's and look at the gowns the personal shopper selected for you? The gala for the fundraiser is less than a month away. When I come home, we'll make dinner together and watch a movie."
Lauren brightened instantly, as he knew she would. They rarely had quiet evenings at home alone. "Can I pick the movie?" He groaned, but agreed, knowing he'd be watching some vile Romcom but it would be worth it to see her happy.
So, Lauren went to the legendary department store and went through some of the ridiculously expensive gowns selected by the personal shopper Thomas had hired. They were all too... something. Too shiny. Too tight. Too long. Too expensive. Giving up after the tenth sequined concoction, she smiled politely at the tight-lipped woman and said insincerely, "We'll do this again soon when I get a better idea of the gala's theme."
Ducking out was a relief, even breathing in the sooty London air, Mrs. Thomas Williams smiled. Shewasgetting more assertive. Chuck had the car magically by the curb in a moment, holding the door open for her. He inched one brow up slightly when Lauren shook her head. "I want to just, you know, stroll around for a little, okay?" Her bodyguard reluctantly nodded, waving off the car and following her.
It wasn't like Lauren to walk aimlessly, but she was rarely in this part of the city, and she was simply enjoying the watery sunshine and the beautiful old buildings. Chuck was close, almost at her elbow. Far closer than he usually was, but she didn't take offense. She was certain Thomas had ordered him to keep a close eye on her in case she cracked, or something.
Lauren was not going to crack.
It was a lot like how she'd felt when her mom died, the girl thought, pausing outside a flower store to admire a huge, beautiful assortment of hydrangeas. Except for being older made it easier, clearer. There wasn't a choice. She'd chuckled bitterly then at friends who dramatically wailed, "I'm giving up!" over a test, or a bad boyfriend, or losing their phone at the mall. Lauren never understood that. There was no giving up. It was not allowed. So, maybe that's why her life with Thomas wasn't as unspeakable as she'd first anticipated. And her scary husband was unaccountably capable of moments of exquisite kindness, even occasionally tenderness. She hadn't decided whether that made her life worse, or better. Pausing in front of a little stone building, Lauren smiled to realize it was a Catholic church. She was lapsed, she had never gone back after her mother's funeral. A god who took the only person in her life that truly mattered - who was the world to her - was not a god she wanted to speak to ever again. But, it was a beautiful church, so she stepped in the old oak doors, Chuck close on her heels with a brow raised.
Smiling, Lauren ran her hand over the little wooden stand in the foyer, half-lit candles and a little arrangement of flowers. And then she started down the aisle. Feeling Chuck's breath lightly on the back of her neck, she mischievously stopped suddenly, feeling him recover a second before tripping into her. "Chuck? Dude? I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to light a candle for..." swallowing convulsively, all her grief and loss over losing her mother came roaring back, and Lauren paused for a moment. "I'm just lighting a candle for my mom, okay?"
There was a moment, and she could almost hear the slightest lilt of regret in his voice. "Of course, Miss Lauren. I'll just sit here."
Continuing down the aisle, Lauren knelt before the altar for a moment before leaving a handful of pounds in the little collection box. Thinking about it, looking at the clean, but shabby velvet curtains and cushions, she dug into her purse and pulled out all the money she had, stuffing it in with the rest. Taking a taper and lighting a fresh candle, she bowed her head and tried to remember how to pray. Her lips moved, like muscle memory, but she couldn't seem to understand the words her mouth was shaping. Finally, feeling foolish and not sure what else to do, the girl sat in the front row, staring at the lovely stained-glass windows.
"Good afternoon."
Lauren nearly fell off the bench. "G- good afternoon, Father," she managed, pressing her hand to her chest.
The priest was a slight, older man, thinning gray hair and wire-framed spectacles. He had a kind, tired face and sat a respectful distance from her, hands holding a bible in his lap. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You looked deep in thought."
She tried to give a dismissive laugh, but it turned out more like a gulp from someone who was trying not to cry. "I was, um, I guess I was thinking about my mom. She..." Lauren was silent again and so was the priest, calmly waiting as if he had all the time in the world. "She... died a couple of years ago. I just wanted to light a candle, but I'm not a big church-goer so I should just leave, I guess-"
"When I lost my parents, I didn't speak to God for a year."
Half-risen from the bench, Lauren awkwardly sat back down. "Oh, I'm really sorry, Father, that's-"
He patted her arm absently, "Thank you, it was twenty-five years ago, so my grief is not as fresh as yours. But you will always feel it." The priest smiled suddenly. "Everyone told you platitudes like, ‘The grief fades in time,’ and so on and so on?"
Almost giggling at the man's daring, Lauren nodded. "Exactly. It's all crap. I miss her even more now, it's-" her throat closed up again and she looked away.
Another respectful pause. "It's harder in times when her wisdom would mean so much, isn't it?"
Lauren looked at him, eyes wide. "How'd you-"
