ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 11: coming of rage

      The rest of the meeting with Derek was short; he simply covered the concerns of Angel Blue’s secrecy with the media and to only speak of Henry Nikita’s involvement as a separate case within in Manhattan so if he’s watching he won’t taunt the NYPD. I wouldn’t put it past Nikita for him to gloat of the killings like the Zodiac, Son of Sam and Jack the Ripper had done in the past.

      “You alright?” Sam asks.

      “Fine,” I reply.

      Sam knows that I’m not, but Snag’s warnings still echo through my mind. If Helena isn’t up to something, then Sam is. The FBI are too corrupt, too aware―maybe that’s why Snag was reluctant to sign the exhumation order, he didn’t want the FBI to get more information. That’d make sense since he switched all security codes to block FBI access at the lab and morgue.

      In the corridor, Helena’s throwing a tantrum, acting like the child that she is. She makes no attempt to censor her language or think about how ridiculous she looks. We’re in the middle of Police Plaza, two doors down from Chief Banks, and she decides to kick and scream. Is Helena Quinn brain dead?

      “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything in my defence Robert! We’re in a committed relationship, you should’ve told that arsehole off!” Helena screeched.

      “Chief Banks is my boss, I can’t say anything against him,” Dad sighed. “Besides, you put my own daughter in danger. If she wasn’t with Pingelly at the time, who knows what would’ve happened. I love my daughter, Helena, that’s something you have to understand.”

      I blink three times, did―did Dad just say that? Did he really just admit that he loves me? Instead of feeling like angel’s are flying out of my arse, I can’t help but wince. Dad is a fucking coward; he’ll say or do anything to stop feeling the brunt of his actions. In this case, he’ll pull the ‘l’ word just to get me off his back―but he forgets that I have my mother’s temper; I don’t let shit like this slide.

      The surrounding offices are open and the occupants peek through their glass doors or shutters to see what all the noise was about. A few Deputy Inspectors yell for Helena to be quiet quite politely, just to have her shout back insults and for them to shove their badges where the sun does not shine. For an FBI Agent, her comebacks are weak, I’m surprised that she hasn’t pulled the ‘your mum’ joke yet or ‘I know you are but what am I?’, she’s honestly pathetic.

      “Oh I get it now, you love her more than you love me, is that it?” Helena rages, “If you haven’t forgotten, Robert, you haven’t been a father to her since your first wife walked out on your marriage. You haven’t loved Akira since then, so why start now?”  

      Her insult hurt more than not being able to get a decent coffee in New York.

     Surprisingly, I don’t pull a gun on Helena; I just stand next to Sam and watch Helena act like a two-year-old or some pre-pubescent girl that couldn’t go to a concert. To describe the situation as amusing didn’t even cover it.

      “She’s my daughter,” Dad’s voice rises.

      “I’m your girlfriend,” Helena retorts.

      Dad stares at her.

      Like most desperate women that try to replace someone, she’s pulling the trump card. That sneaky little card that basically brands Dad a traitor in both senses, FBI Agent Helena Quinn is giving Dad an ultimatum. She really is stupid. For a woman that tries to keep her cool, she’s failing to do so. Her chest heaves as she tries to smooth her curls back into place and she’s tossing up the option to either throw her heeled shoe at me, or Sam (who I might add, is trying not to laugh).