"Well well, look who finally decided to open up," Keith commented. "I was thinking we'd have to break the door down, at this rate."
Faith froze. Behind Aaron and Keith, a black car sat parked in her driveway behind her SUV, with the same "I Love Happy Scoops" decal in its front window as the one Aaron had given to her a week ago. Of course... I never showed up at Happy Scoops tonight.
"What's with that face, sweetheart? Not who you were expectin'?" Aaron asked, the nearest street light outside glinting off of his gold chain necklace as well as Keith's badge.
Panicking internally, she backed away from the door, taking a few quick glances around the coffee table for her gun. She knew that wasn't the best idea, but still, she wished it was ready and close by, depending on what extent Aaron was the shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later type in these situations. She last remembered it being right there on the table, but it wasn't there now, or in her purse which she grabbed and quickly checked. The gun may not have been there, but at least the money was, which she had just enough time to dump onto the coffee table before she was once again in their view. Gun or no gun, the sooner they saw that money, the better off she would be.
"I'll go first, just in case," Keith was muttering quietly to Aaron as he stepped inside the front door that remained wide open. They must have guessed she was looking for a weapon...a weapon that it just so happened she wasn't able to find.
Aaron followed Keith close behind, closing the door once they were both inside. Sure enough, both he and Keith's right arms were reaching behind their backs. "Y'know Faith, this really ain't like you..."
Faith hastily held up her hands, continuing to back away. "Please, don't," was all she could utter at the moment.
"Don't what? We haven't done anything yet," Keith scoffed, placing extra emphasis on the word 'yet'.
Her head was throbbing more than ever, her two sudden guests not having helped matters at all. Too much was happening at once, and she inwardly scrambled to get her thoughts together. She was about to tell them that she'd sat the money on the coffee table since they apparently hadn't seen it yet (even though she had thought they would have spotted something like a wad of money rather easily on their own), but all she could do for the next few seconds was clutch her head with both her hands due to her headache, which had begun to worsen under the circumstances. She refused to close her eyes, though--she needed to keep an eye on the both of them.
"Come on, Faith. Just cut the dramatics and tell me where my money is," Aaron sighed, becoming increasingly annoyed. "You really think you're the first one that's tried that whole 'poor pitiful me' act?"
"It's on the coffee table, if you care to look right in front of you," Faith finally managed to say, some exasperation finding its way into her voice.
"Careful with that tone, missy," Keith said with a beady-eyed glare.
"Ah. Now I see it." Aaron suddenly pointed to the table and strode over to it. "Now, if this is the amount you were supposed to bring tonight, and if your story's good enough for why you didn't show up and ignored all my calls, I might not take your interest up to 40% for your remaining weeks."
If he really were to double her interest like that, she had no idea what she was going to do. She wanted to sink into the chair nearest to her, but she felt a bit less vulnerable on her feet. "It--it's the right amount, honest. I'm really sorry, I can explain--"
Aaron abruptly held up his hand, apparently wanting to count the money first. Faith's head and chest throbbed in unison as he did so, with Keith continuing to keep an eye on her. After a nerve-wracking five seconds or so, Aaron nodded to Keith and said, "It's alright. That's all of it." It was then that he turned back to Faith, running his thumb through the dollar bills he now held. "It's almost after midnight, Faith. You've always arrived with my payments at nine on the dot, every Friday. So maybe now you can explain to me why--" He paused, squinting at her. "What's with the face paint? You tryin' out for the circus or something?"
"Actually, you could say the circus left a couple of hours ago," Faith muttered, realizing how much of a mess she probably looked and quickly wiped at the dark lines that had probably formed from her makeup running.
"So he finally gave you the slip, huh? Well, I guess that partially answers what I was about to ask you."
"Oh, you mean Rowan Frost?" Keith interjected.
"Yeah," Faith answered reluctantly, trying to keep her answers to Keith as short and clipped as possible. "Once we're done, I'll need to report him missing..."
"Good luck getting us to look for that little red-headed demon," Keith snorted. "I swear, I don't get paid enough to deal with clowns like him."
"Well, be glad you get paid something, because all I did was lose money with him around," Faith retorted sullenly. She found it hard to resist the urge to be furious at Keith's remark; it was still second nature for her, even though what he said likely summed up the basics of who Rowan truly was.
"Oh, I think you dodged a bullet with that guy. If I were you, I'd just call the station, have 'em make the report and then focus on finishing paying off Mr. Galanos over here," Keith shrugged.
"She gets it, Keith. I'll do the talkin' now since I've still got some questions for her, so you just wait for me outside," Aaron ordered. "I'll call you if I need you."
Almost like an obedient dog, Keith nodded and stepped outside, leaving the two of them standing alone in the living room. If it wasn't for Sherm and his constant involvement in helping the local police force, Faith hated to think how many more policemen in this city would be like Keith, working on the side for criminals they were supposed to be taking down. She guessed that Aaron paid Keith much more handsomely than the police station did.
Meanwhile, Aaron wasted no time in making himself at home and plopping onto her couch. "Sit down, Faith. You're makin' me uneasy."
Uneasy? If only he knew. Reluctantly, Faith seated herself in a nearby chair.
"So, here's the deal. I might've decided to be nice to you that first night you showed up talking about that hospital bill, but don't you ever think that I'm weak because of it. Understand?"
Faith nodded silently. She was supposed to be terrified right now--begging him for forgiveness, promising that it wouldn't happen again, things like that. But the longer she'd been awake, the more her panic had slowly turned to hopelessness. It just wasn't in her, putting on some emotional show for something that wasn't even directly her fault. Besides, it didn't sound as if that worked on him anyway. He'd likely seen and heard it all before--all she was to him was a name in his book. One of her worst fears had come to pass in a way she never could have imagined, so there was no point in being afraid now--all she had to do was tell him why he didn't get his money when he'd expected it, and she figured becoming sick enough to go unconscious was a rather legitimate reason. Except for that lost gun, she really had nothing to keep from him.
"So explain it to me, Faith. I called you, seven times. Did ya' have the thing on silent?"
"My phone? No. I last had it on the couch, but..." Faith sighed, still trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened within the span of just three hours. She wanted to look for her phone between and maybe under the cushions, but that wasn't exactly possible with Aaron sitting on them. At least her head was beginning to feel better, now that Keith was outside and Aaron didn't appear to be reaching for any kind of weaponry he might have on him. "I can explain...well, maybe not everything, just the parts I myself understand so far. In a way, I'm just as confused as you are."
"Out of curiosity, is this related, by any chance? Or is that just how you decorate?" He pointed to the shattered pieces of vase that still lay on the floor, likely having just noticed it.
"Oh, it's related," Faith replied numbly. As deflated as she felt, she still hoped he didn't spot the bullet hole that was likely somewhere in the wall and ask about it.
"I mean, between the way you're acting and those broken pieces on the floor, it does look like something took place here--I'll give ya' that much. Keep talking."
"Alright, so I'll just give you the abridged version here--I missed your calls because I was unconscious. I never heard them. I'm still not even sure where my phone is. But right before I was supposed to go and pay you, Rowan said he was leaving for good and going to face Spencer alone, and said he and I would both get arrested if I tried to stop him. So, what can I say? I...got mad and broke that vase. I wanted him to see the point he'd pushed me to but it didn't phase him, and one of the last few things I remember is him making me some tea and drinking it, before I started feeling strange." She nodded at the mug that still sat on the coffee table.
"You ain't telling me you actually drank it, right?" Aaron rolled his eyes. "You don't trust the water cooler in my office, but you trust somebody that unstable to make you tea?"
"That's the part I still don't understand," Faith said, her frustration beginning to return. "At first I didn't trust it. But then he drank some of it in front of me, supposedly to convince me it wasn't laced, but yet maybe somehow it still was? I don't know..."
"Oh, that's easy. He just drank enough to make you feel safe, but not go unconscious himself. You probably got a lot more of it in your system than he did," he said matter-of-factly, peering down into the mug. He then lowered his voice. "And come on, let's be real here--Rowan's probably no stranger to substances like that. How do you think Keith knew him so well from the police station?"
Faith had always had her own suspicions and theories about Rowan off and on, especially within the past two years, but having those supposedly crazy and paranoid ideas of hers be confirmed and knowing that all of those false accusations against him probably weren't false at all were an entirely different kind of pain. Maybe even Sherm had been secretly lying about things he'd always told her, such as how doing the "heroic" thing was always worth it in the end, and that he'd always have her back if she needed it. Was Sherm secretly a terrible person, too? Or her parents? All she could give was a simple nod, willing herself not to let Aaron see her act any weaker than what he'd already seen from her.
She expected Aaron to simply give her one more warning and strut out the door now that he had his money and his explanation, but he only leaned forward on the couch, not getting up from it. Clasping his hands together and widening his eyes in a somewhat exaggerated fashion, he let out a long exhale. "Well, this is awkward."
"What?" she questioned flatly.
He lowered his head and laughed quietly to himself, and it was either a laugh of sadistic amusement, or potentially...ruefulness perhaps? She was more willing to bet on the former. "I mean, somebody like you wouldn't have even considered setting foot on Happy Scoops's premises if it wasn't for trying to protect your poor misguided boyfriend from all these different people, and now..."
"What's your point, Aaron? You have what you came here for, and the sooner I can find myself some answers on all of this, the better--for everyone involved."
"Alright, my point is, how much do you really know to start with about this guy, or Spencer, or this mysterious 'company' that you've been so afraid of for all these years?"
"I know that Rowan's life is in danger, if he isn't already dead by now. I guess he got bored of playing the victim, and now he's obsessed with making himself into some kind of martyr. You know how he always had delusions--if his mind got into a certain place, he thought he could just go and do anything he wanted without consequences. As for Spencer and the company..." She didn't want to talk about the next part, but if she drew this all out for him, maybe then Aaron would finally lose interest and leave her to her misery. "...Rowan and Chance might or might not have ever mentioned this to you, and I remember vaguely telling you some of it years ago, but...their whole family works for this huge illegal company, and while Rowan was supposedly too traumatized to ever go into much detail with me, what I've slowly gathered over the years is they basically enslaved him as a young child, along with his brother and some other children to work in their factories. His own grandfather allowed this, for no apparent reason, and neither of them ever mentioned any parents. It sounds like Spencer--their grandfather--had this weird personal grudge against Rowan while Chance got better treatment and was eventually allowed to leave, which Rowan also never explained or seemed to understand himself. Even the FBI is too afraid to do much of anything about them."
"Hmm. And this company...what do they make, exactly?" Aaron asked, absentmindedly tracing imaginary lines in the air with his pointer finger. Faith couldn't understand why he wanted to know all of this; he looked as if he was merely humoring her. Maybe he just wanted to see her suffer. Unless...he really did believe her, and had some sort of ulterior motives in mind. Don't tell me he wants to do some sort of shady business deal with those people...if one could even call those monsters 'people'. He's threatening enough on his own. "Why would you want to know something like that?"
"I'm the one asking the questions, not the other way around," Aaron said brusquely. "Anyway, it sounds like they've made quite a name for themselves, but all they call themselves is 'the company'?"
"I...don't know if they have a name. Rowan never went into that either... But they make things like chemicals and weapons, and they kidnap random people in broad daylight for illegal experiments too. I was almost one of those experiments after I got caught trespassing on Spencer's property when I was 16, but Rowan and I helped each other escape before I could be sent to one of their factories. In return for helping me, I tried to show him how to assimilate, and experience the things he never got to as a child. And at first he really seemed to want to learn, but..."
"But you got played. Big time." As she had expected, his response to all of this information hadn't been much more than folded arms and an unamused gaze.
"Right..." Attempting to word it in such a way that somebody like Aaron would understand, she added, "I need Rowan alive. I can't get the information I need if he isn't." That was partially true, but also, deep down, Faith knew none of this was Rowan's fault. She'd made her own choice to stay with Rowan when she didn't have to, and it wasn't as if it was his fault he turned out the way he did. He was still a victim, in some sense.
"I see." Aaron nodded slowly. "Well listen, I believe you, so we're good and all that. Now as for the remaining weeks, it ain't like I can just give up the agreement you made with me--'cause if I did that every time a customer got on a streak of bad luck, I'd be out of business and a reputation--but I can tell you what actually happened with Rowan and Chance. I know more than you might think." Faith noticed a certain intenseness had appeared in his usually indifferent dark brown eyes. Could he be serious?
"And what's this potentially valuable information going to cost me?" Faith asked, not wanting to let her guard down just yet.
"All I need is for you to hear me out on this, alright? And if you don't believe me on any of it, look it up for yourself."
What? Faith didn't understand why he was so willing to give her this information with no strings attached, but...if he knew something about Rowan that she didn't, and apparently had proof to back it up, she needed to know. Taking a deep breath, she locked eyes with him and nodded. "Okay. I'll listen."
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