Cracked Sources – B03E11

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Anna hurried down the aisle, towards the
elevator. If there was one thing she dreadfully needed here and now, it was a quick
exit, the perfect getaway seen only in movies. Her mind was over-heated with
the tragic memory of Abigail’s verbal battery moments ago. In all her life, she
couldn’t easily a day she was humiliated as much as today. ‘What did I do to warrant such hatred from a
woman I’ve never met?’
She silently asked herself. Greatly engrossed in her
own thoughts, she didn’t realize when Andrew boarded the same elevator. “May I?” His polite tone
caught her attention; she immediately realized she knew the voice – It belonged
to the man who loved her more than anything else in this world.
Andrew!” Anna
leapt for joy, and embraced him.
Andrew was stunned, but something about the hug felt normal and
comforting to him. He began to move with the flow. He tightened his grip on
her, gently caressed her back, and subconsciously inhaled the fragrance of her
hair; she was perfect, and he appreciated the art of her creation.
“Is it really you, Andrew?” Anna asked, breaking off the embrace.
Andrew wiped the drool off the edge of his mouth; he didn’t want to
spoil the mood; he had to play along. “Yes, it’s me,” he said.
Anna hopped on him a second time; she was
thrilled; at least something good came out of today. The pretense didn’t last
for long. Andrew fessed up when it became apparent that Anna had gotten her
fill of embracing him and was ready to know where he’d been the past weeks.
Though disappointed, Anna decided to take control of her life, for once she was
going to do something good for herself, she was going to take Andrew on a full
day’s journey through memory lane. Andrew liked the idea especially after
realizing the woman he had spent the last twenty-five minutes feeling cozy with
was the infamous Anna whose name had
plagued him since he returned.
The day was moving slowly; only three hours of
work-time had passed but it seemed like ages. KC was beginning to get
frustrated. There wasn’t much work to be done at the office today, and he was
getting tired of wallowing in self-pity.
The door swung open, and Patricia stormed in like a raging bull.
            “Patricia,” he called
out, confused. “What is the matter?”
            “What have you been
doing?” She replied his question with one of hers.
            “What do you mean?”
            “With Abigail, you
KC rose from his seat, and walked up to her; he held her by the hand,
caressed her palms and massaged her fingers; he wanted her to be calm before he
spoke. “I thought you were okay with my approach?”
            “It’s obvious it
isn’t working anymore. When was the last time you slept with her?’
KC let go of her hand, her question made him uncomfortable. As though
it wasn’t it bad enough he was having sex with a woman he didn’t care about,
the one he cared for was quizzing him about it.
            “It’s been a while.”
            “How long ago?” She
pressed further.
Seeing her approach wasn’t really working, she softened. The last
thing she wanted was to scare him away before her game materialized.
            “Baby,” she started,
“I’m sorry.” She massaged his shoulders, just the way he liked it. “The Boss is asking for results. We are
running out of time.”
            “I’m trying my best,”
KC said. He sounded as one who had resigned to fate.
            “I know.”
Patricia swerved the chair, so that he’d face her;
she went on her knees, and unbuckled his belt, and took him inside her.
Patrick still had two days to formerly send a
reply concerning the job offer at Tiffany-Jane’s. Even though he’d said on
various occasion that leaving Lewis Chambers was the best thing for him, all
those speeches were to further convince himself he was doing the right thing
leaving. His wife finally figured out the kind of battle going on inside his
head, she was going to make it easier for him with a revelation that was
certain to shake the foundation of almost everything he’d believed in for a
while now.
“Patrick,” she
Patrick answered, “Yes, dear.”
Any conversation Helen began by calling his name, Patrick knew things
were bound to get heated. She called again. This time, he answered grudgingly.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she
inaugurated her tale.
“I hope it’s not about my friends, or the firm?”
“I wish it was something else.”
Patrick resigned in frustration, he was done having this conversation,
“I’m not interested” he lashed out.
“Those people at that firm are not your friends.
Every one of them!”
Patrick wasn’t going to be at this again, for all he cared, they were
done with this the last time Huey and Andrew visited. He wasn’t doing this
            “Please, listen to
me, Patrick. Do not return to them.”
            “Why would I? Weren’t
you here when I took the new job, just as you wanted?” He fired her with more
questions. “What more do you want from me?”
            “I know you, Patrick.
You are kind and compassionate, and that’s why they do not deserve you!”
The atmosphere was getting heated, and Patrick was sweating profusely.
If he could walk he’d have left here already. ‘What nonsense?’ He thought.
“Your boss, Akin, had me spy on you.” Her
confession came out.
Patrick stopped moving: he couldn’t fully make sense of her statement
            “You said?”
            “I’m sorry,” Helen
pleaded. She began to sob.
“All the information,
the unannounced visits, the fights, everything; you mean they were his
Helen nodded.
Patrick was understandably taken aback by this. Months back, this
information would have been beneficial to him, that was when all he wanted to
do was find the person pulling the strings behind and causing a strain in his
marriage. But he had moved on now, he was at a good place with his wife, his
family was whole again; having the identity of the person now caused him
nothing but pain.
It began to make sense. If Akin used his wife to distract him from his
job, it was to make him uncoordinated, to make it difficult to identify the
discrepancies with the company’s figures in the Crescent case, to avoid ousting
            “How much?” Patrick
Helen looked at him with teary eyes. It was as though she didn’t
understand his question. All she wanted was for him to get the message, forgive
her, and move on from Akin and his company of troubles.
            “How much?!” Patrick
shouted. His voice shook the room.
Helen delved further into self-destruct mode. If she said it, things
would never be the same between them, their marriage would never be the same.
She couldn’t.
            “For how much, Helen?
Tell me the amount you exchanged my trust for?”
two million!” She shouted.
Anna and Andrew arrived the parking lot outside
the building, she parked there. Huey, who was Andrew’s ride back home, had left;
he’d gotten tired of playing big brother,
it was on Anna to see that Andrew got home safely. They’d spent the last four
hours together loitering the firm to Abigail’s angst. She let them loiter
because it made her father happy watching them – her love for that man was her
weakness, it clouded her basic reasoning.
            Anna was content, she
hadn’t felt that way in a long time. She loved Mark, but the truth was that she
never stopped loving Andrew, even though he caused her profound pain during
their time together there was a part of her that still cared deeply for him,
and that part had come out to play. It was very selfish of her, and she
acknowledged it within; her mind wandered in fantasies – how their lives might have
been different if she never left him – a tear escaped her eye, and Andrew took
note of it.
“Hey.” He gently called her attention. “Don’t
cry,” he said. He let her bury her head in his embrace.
It was fast getting dark, Anna as one who didn’t
like to stay out late anymore wanted them to leave, “It’s time to go” she said,
and broke off from his embrace. She walked to the driver’s door, and quickly
dived into her handbag in search of her car-key to avoid falling prey to her
failing emotions. Andrew rightly positioned himself away from her sight, with
his back resting on his side of the door; he took a good look at the city from
his angle – she held so much beauty in her that called out for his attention.
Anna’s search was taking too long, “Can I help?” He volunteered his service,
but Anna eschewed him with stupendous alacrity, “I can search for my own keys”
she fired. Andrew took the initiative to give her space, he took off into the
city, towards the beauty that called for his attention.
There was this scuffle happening not too far from where the car was
parked, and he was further attracted to it.
 There was
a young man on the run… let’s say he was twenty-one years of age, and two other
older persons a little behind him. “Get
out of my way!”
The athletic lad said to everyone on his path as he
ran; he ran as though it was a way of life for him, and the two behind chased
him as though their lives depended on it. Anna had succeeded in locating her
keys and was already behind the wheels, seeing what was happening ahead, she
horned and begged Andrew on top of her voice to return to the car, but her
pleas fell on deaf ears: Andrew wanted a direct view of the action. Suddenly,
the hoodlums started firing shots, and people took shelter; Andrew was
confused; the young man was headed for the parking lot and Andrew was on his
way; he fired a shot, and another. Anna’s lips fell apart; her coordination
betrayed her; she was in shock. The assailant was already beside her; he threw
her out of the car immediately.
“Somebody help! Somebody please help!” She yelled
uncontrollably. Andrew laid on the street in a pool of his own blood.
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