Chapter 147 - Vivian
Vivian took her time in the shower. It would be a while before Jacques returned with clothes, and she didn’t want to wear the shirt and sweatpants Gilbert had given her to change into once she finished. He’d seemed reluctant when passing them over, and she’d felt the same accepting them.
The bathroom was as bare as the rest of the apartment. There was nothing on or near the sink except a toothbrush, toothpaste, and hand soap; the shower only had 2-in-1 shampoo conditioner and body wash. Vivian had wanted to look in the cupboard under the sink, or the cabinet behind the mirror, but decided snooping wouldn’t be polite. A razor had to be hidden somewhere, since he didn’t have a beard, but there were no traces of the little bits of hair men usually left everywhere while trimming or shaving. How did he manage to live in a space without leaving anything behind?
Unable to stall any longer, Vivian turned off the shower and dried herself. She briefly contemplated putting on the clothes she’d arrived in, but something told her Gilbert would be less than pleased. He had enough to deal with as it was. And there was blood on them.
The shirt he’d provided reached a few inches above her knees, but the waist on the pants was the perfect size. Vivian did have to roll the legs up a bit, so she wouldn’t trip on them, but otherwise they weren’t too bad.
There was a bit of hesitation when she reached for the door, not wanting to deal with the world outside this moisture ladened room. She didn’t want to face the truths that waited on the other side. The family she’d begun to trust, to feel like she belonged to, was suddenly torn in two; half in the hospital, in states unknown, as she was too scared to ask for more details, and the other half gone, taken by someone who was hellbent on… she wasn’t sure what they wanted; was it to prevent her from legally joining the family? or to take them out of the ‘business’? There was no way of knowing for certain.
What if they don’t come back? She wondered, squeezing her eyes shut. What if I become an orphan all over again? Will Laurent and Sebastian blame me? We wouldn’t… have been where we were, when we were, if Cassidy hadn’t shown up, and…
Vivian’s thoughts trailed off, and she wondered how Auntie Pat had orchestrated everything. Sunny had said the blond wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off without help; who was helping her? And why?
Paul as the culprit made sense, because he would want to make her suffer for what she’d done. Taking away her family in such a way was definitely something he’d be capable of pulling off… if he had the connections to pull it off.
Except, Gilbert had said the people who’d shown up and grabbed her father and brother, left when the emergency crews arrived — that would include the police.
Not all cops were corrupt, but if Paul had made this happen, wouldn’t he have done something to prevent them from responding so quick?
What about this ‘Curator’ Samuel had mentioned; how did they play into any of this? She hadn’t asked much about it but, from what she’d gleaned from the conversation, it was someone they were worried about. If this Curator was working with Paul — and chances were good this was the case, since it was the Curator who sent people to retrieve the phone from Abby — then he’d have access to more resources, wouldn’t he?
Or am I obsessed with blaming him for everything? Sure, a lot of things point to him, but is it because that’s what I’m expecting, or because that’s how things actually are? If I knew more about the ‘business’ I might be able to figure out if this was about me or them, but… Gilbert won’t tell me anything, not without my father’s permission. I have no way of getting more information… unless Tyrell shows up and lets me press him on the topic. No, I doubt he’d tell me anything, either.
Vivian sighed as she opened the bathroom door and stepped out.
“You should get some rest,” Gilbert told her, covering half his phone with a hand, as if to give them some privacy from whoever was on the line.
The last thing she thought she could do was sleep. Her gut was in a knot, her stomach unsettled, and her mind was racing; sleep was not going to happen any time soon. “Alright,” she nodded, not wanting to discuss why this was a bad idea. She didn’t feel like being around anyone at the moment, so it gave her a good excuse to ignore his existence.
She turned and walked towards the couch, only for a hand to gently clasp her upper arm. Looking over her shoulder, she noted Gilbert giving her an odd look. “The bedroom is there,” he said, letting go of her arm to point towards a door on the opposite side of the room from the couch.
“I’m not taking your bed,” she told him, voice blunt. His clothes were one thing, but his bed was his. Yes, she’d slept in Laurent’s, once, but that was because someone had put her there after she’d fallen asleep. If it’d been her choice, she’d have slept on the floor.
“I won’t be using it tonight,” he informed her, eyes narrowing just a little. “The sheets are clean.”
That’s not my issue with it, she thought to herself. There was no way she was going to explain her why she wasn’t going to use his bed, so she let it go. “Fine.”
As she stepped through the doorway, she half turned to look at him again. “You’ll… tell me if you learn anything new?”
Gilbert said nothing for a few seconds before giving her a slow nod. “I will do my best.”
His answer didn’t really make sense. He’ll do his best to tell her if he learned anything new? There was no ‘doing your best’; there was doing it, or not doing it.