Boss Undercover Series Bundle, page 40
“Well, that’s why you’re here, and his mother. To offer him moral support. Can’t let these jackasses pull him down because they’re stuck on their high horses,” Zack pointed out, squeezing Claire’s shoulder with reassurance once again. Claire nodded, snatching the glass of water from Zack’s hand as she gulped it back, the source tasteless to her tongue.
Zack’s phone suddenly began ringing, urging him to take the call. He excused himself, heading out the front door.
By half past eleven, the group of them, dressed in black, exited the taxi cab that had dropped them off at the outskirts of the graveyard as Darren had instructed. He had known exactly where to go because, as Jonas’s father had explicitly told him not to attend, he had made no secret to also drop the location. Did he really expect Darren to attend or not?
Now, he was shaking. Shaking down to the bones. The weather didn’t help; the skies were grey and gloomy with the probability of rain on its way. It too would mourn the death of a loved one, mimicking the pain Darren felt slowly gnawing away at his heart.
“Come on, honey. You can do this,” his mother said, offering her comfort beside him, only finding he had yet to move a muscle. “We’re here with you. Let’s go find Jonas. He’ll be waiting for you.”
There was something in the way shadows appeared to cast themselves upon the gravestones as Darren meandered through the memorial pitch, his wandering eyes sympathetically reading aloud in his mind the names that were etched onto the darkened marble—just a date and sometimes a single message. Some had no story, just a name and rare attention given, inferring to the sprawl of weeds climbing and ensnaring it altogether. It was sad, miserable to think that there were those who just sat in an old graveyard where they were rarely given a thought.
His feet came to a halt as his eyes pinpointed onto a group of people. Two of them were recognisable as Jonas’s parents, and the rest were others he had never seen. None of them looked sad. There were hardly any tears from what he could see, and Jonas’s parents seemed to have an air of superiority by the fact their noses were raised up and their eyes barely contacted with the coffin sitting before them. Ahead, a priest recited aloud, while above, clouds seemed to erupt with thunder and produce sudden light droplets of rain.
“Look at them,” Darren found himself saying aloud, his tone full of misery. “Jonas deserves better than this.” Taking no hesitation this time, he moved on towards the group, stopping only at the foot of the coffin as the startled mourners focused their attention to him. No one said a word, and the brief pause of the priest was soon forgotten as he continued, oblivious to the heated tension between the two groups upon the matter of the deceased soul.
Darren ignored it and stood determined as he stared at the engraved silver plate with his lover’s name on the coffin. No tears shed from his eyes. He remained frozen. Stuck. It was only when the priest asked if anyone would like to say anything that he stood forward, dismissing Jonas’s father’s threatening expression. “I love you, Jonas. Always will. You’ll always be in my heart, and I know we’ll meet some day again. I won’t let your name be forgotten. I won’t allow those closest to you to treat you with disrespect. Jonas…” A few startled gasps intruded through the air. “You loved me, and I love you dearly. May your soul rest in peace.” Then grasping a handful of rose petals he had earlier put in his pocket, he scattered them across the coffin before kissing its cold, wet surface.
Claire stood beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder before she too touched the coffin, whispering a few words of endearments and respect before vanishing as she stepped back.
At the final send-off—with not a word from either of his parents or the guests—the funeral came to an end, leaving the few guests to shuffle off with disgrace and Jonas’s parents to fume with anger over the situation.
Jonas’s father jabbed his index finger at Darren as he stood across from the freshly covered grave. “How dare you attend! Disgrace my family’s name. I thought I told you not to come, yet here you are!” His tone was bitter as he spat every single word out without shame.
Darren shrugged his shoulders, suddenly immune to the insults. “I care not. As for anything of Jonas’s, I bid you do whatever with it. The money, I assume, is something that holds your interest. Do whatever, because you know that from day one since you kicked him out, he has never been a part of your family. So don’t you dare jab around your hate,” he snapped, fury inflaming his soul.
“Do not test me, boy,” the father threatened. “No more. No more will I see your face.” Then he turned without grace, dragging his feet across the muddy grass as his wife followed, taking not a single look towards their deceased son’s grave. As soon as they had diminished from sight, the group surrounding Darren watched as his shoulders slumped, and he fell to his knees. His knees were dirty from the mud clinging against them, but he had not a care in the world.
“Just give me a moment alone.” Obliging, they stepped aside, leaving Darren alone to finally mourn in peace and come to terms with the reality.
Claire hugged her arm around Zack’s shoulder and arm as she closed her eyes, feeling the pitter-patter of rain against her flesh. It was such a miserable day. Darren’s mother walked away, bringing a hankie to her eyes as she wiped away a few wandering tears, leaving Claire to sink further into Zack, who held on tight to her.
***
Returning to the apartment was strenuous; Darren had decided that it was best for them to hold the get-together at Jonas’s place. It was their last chance to stand in that complex because the parents were selling it off. Darren had found out a few days before during a brief, intense telephone chat. Most of the furniture remained intact, and if it had no sentimental value, it did not fall into Darren’s hands. It was gruelling to think that there was the possibility of another walking through that door, tugging off their socks, pouring themselves a hot beverage, while the memory of Jonas dwindled away. It would be someone else returning home.
Claire held tight onto Zack’s hand, squeezing it often as they stood side by side watching the central discussion ahead of them in the middle of the room. Darren’s hands were tucked in his suit trousers’ pockets, and the exhaustion showing in his face admitted all of how he felt. His words were quiet and barely audible as his mother spoke, chasing away a strand of hair clinging onto his collar. She petted his shoulder gently, the vivid red of her acrylic nails being the only saturation of colour within this room.
“That just happened, didn’t it?” Claire exhaled, barely loud enough for Darren to catch upon.
Zack stirred slightly as he scratched the end of his nose. “Yes, the funeral did just happen.”
“It’s fucked up. This world,” she muttered, her state almost transfixed onto the subtle movement of Darren’s lips as he produced words that she could not decipher. “One moment you can be on top of the world and then you can be Jonas, dead as a doornail, your whole world collapsing on top of you. It just doesn’t make sense why it has to be the good people.” She sighed, breaking away and shuffling her eyes towards the living room window decorated with once-flamboyant purple curtains that were now dying.
“This world can be shit but,” Zack paused as he detached his hand away from hers and hugged it around her shoulders, “there is some good. It’s gonna take some time for Darren, but he’s got you, his mother, and plenty of opportunity out there for him.” Then he exhaled briefly before pecking his lips at the side of her forehead. “And we’ve got each other.”
Claire nodded as she turned into his embrace and muffled words against his shirt. “I love you, Zack.” She felt his approval from the way his hands squeezed tightly around her waist.
Suddenly, there was an uncomfortable clearing of a throat, causing Claire to break away from Zack slowly. Darren, with those puffy, red fatigued eyes rested on Claire’s, said, “Can we talk?”
She nodded, watching as her friend shuffled away from the pair and headed over to the far corner. Claire followed, resting her hand as soon as possible on his shoulder as she searched the black gulfs of his eyes. “Is everything okay?” she asked quietly, knowing she couldn’t put herself further into his shoes.
“Y-Yeah,” Darren said, blinking several times away from her eye contact before returning as he continued. “I’m okay. Struggling, but hanging on.” Then Darren paused as he took a hold of Claire’s free hand. “I want you to know you don’t have to stay to look after me this week. I’ve told my mother the same. If I’m being honest with you both, I need the time alone…my time to mourn. I-I…It will help me to surround myself in this apartment until the end of this week when it’s put on the market. I just need some time alone, so please don’t be offended—”
“Of course, not, Darren,” Claire interjected, shaking her head. “You take all the time you need. Never in a million years would I be offended, babe. You know that. How many times have I told you to fuck off when I’ve been in those grumpy moods?”
“Many.” Darren chuckled weakly, the dominating force of a shadow soon taking control of his face.
“I’m serious, though. You take all the time, Darren. I’m always here for you, and you know it.”
Darren nodded as he squeezed Claire’s hand. Then he began grasping her attention once again. “Look, I want you to carry on as normal this week. Go in to work—”
“But what—”
“No buts,” Darren cut her off. “I don’t need you waiting on me like a fool twenty-four-seven. It will help you get things off your mind. And besides,” his eyes flicked behind her, and when she looked, they landed directly onto Zack, who was in mid-conversation with Darren’s mother, “your happiness is important too.” He squeezed her hand as Claire returned her gaze back towards her friend. “You love him, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Claire found herself saying as she turned her attention back towards Zack, who was unaware of the attention.
“Then what are you doing here with me?” Darren scoffed lightly, pushing gently on her arm.
“What?” Claire asked, a little dazed.
“Go the fuck home, Claire. Take your man and spend time together. ‘Cause, honey, this world works in ways we don’t want it to half the time,” Darren said as he rested his hand onto his hip.
“What? Darren? No, I’m here for you and—”
“For the love of God, Claire. Go home,” Darren blurted, grasping both her hands into his own. “I’m asking you to go home for me. I want you to. Please, for me? Just go home. I’m okay,” he pleaded, his eyes jumping vigorously back and forth between her dilated pupils.
And that was what happened. Claire left the apartment along with Zack. She sat confused now on this park bench, revisiting the moment. He had asked. Sought for her to go. Darren wanted that time alone. She had done as she was told. Muttered a few words, kissed his forehead, then travelled across to Zack as she took his hand and tugged him along. No arguments, no questions, and soon Darren’s mother followed, leaving that strong, selfless, beautiful man alone.
It was a struggle not to cry. Thank God, she had the incentive of Zack close beside her as she just stared at the patch of weeds ahead of her growing in the gravel.
“Are you hungry?” her boyfriend asked, intruding his way into her silent thoughts.
“A little, I suppose.” She shrugged as she kicked the heel of her shoe against the floor. “I don’t suppose we have to eat, though?”
“Not if you don’t want to, babe,” Zack replied earnestly as he rested his elbows loosely onto his outspread knees. “We could just sit here if you wanted, and I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re okay.” It was her time to be selfless as she glanced over and saw his black tie loosened and the few buttons at the top of his shirt undone, appraising him to be ever still handsome in dark.
“No,” she began as she pushed herself gently off the bench. “We’ll go to that café I spotted on the way here. Come on.” She offered her hand, which he accepted and hauled himself up.
“Are you sure?” Zack queried as he followed Claire down the gravel footpath.
“Yes,” she answered, grasping his hand and tugging him firmly towards her side. “I’m sure, Zack. Now, stop asking questions and just walk with me, okay?” Stopping them both in their tracks, she kissed his right cheek, fabricating a heated blush across the area.
“Yes, ma’am,” Zack said, tugging her beneath his arm as they walked down the route.
***
Claire gawked at the requirements printed in black on the white piece of paper that dictated her task in the latest project. Her mind was just not adjusting to work. Her head hurt, her eyes ached, and she found herself drifting her attention towards the centre of the room where Monica proudly flashed about a diamond necklace, grasping all attention from neighbouring female colleagues. Apparently, a male “suitor” had given it to her after falling smitten for her on the spot. Claire couldn’t have cared less and wouldn’t have paid her any attention, but feeling so mentally exhausted, she just couldn’t pick up a pen or tap a damn button.
“Fucking shut up,” Claire hissed, flopping her head into her arms, sick and tired of the laughter drumming away from the pretentious scene up ahead again.
“Claire? Are you okay?”
She lifted her head up, exhaling as she did for the second intrusion of her morning. “Oh, Jason. Hello,” she mumbled, a little irritated for her lack of enthusiasm, knowing he was only being pleasant.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bug you. I just wanted to know if you were okay. Last week and all,” Jason said, offering a sympathetic smile.
“I’m okay. Still a shock to the system but…I’m here. Aren’t I not?” Claire replied as she shrugged her shoulders.
“How’s—”
“Darren? Upset,” she interjected, pausing for a second before muttering quietly, almost privately to herself. “I wanted to stay to support him—just for another week at least, but he insisted I go in. He wants the time alone.”
“I’m sorry it had to happen, Claire. God, it must have been awful for you,” Jason returned with, offering a hand upon her defeated shoulder.
“Thanks, Jason. I do appreciate it. If you see Zack, can you tell him I’ve gone outside for some air?” Claire said, lifting herself up off the desk chair. It was strange how things between them repaired as if last month never happened. Jason nodded with a brief smile before heading off down towards his chair at the opposite end. God, why did she come in today?
Her shoulders slumped, and her feet barely made contact from off the floor as she exited the main doors. Taking a place by the nearest wall away from the entrance, she sighed, sliding her back down before eventually sitting down on the concrete. She couldn’t even have cared less if there was the nuisance of mouldy, pressed-down chewing gum threatening to stick to her skirt. She just wanted some fresh air and some time away from the real world.
“Hey, trouble,” she heard Zack’s familiar voice close beside her. Well, that was quick, she thought. “What you doing out here?” He sat himself down onto the curb beside her and rested his hands loosely onto his knees, looking over to her.
“I just can’t work.” She exhaled, shuffling over towards him as she rested her head onto his shoulder pad. “Every single fucking word on that piece of paper screams at me. I just…don’t know why I bothered coming in.”
“You know we could just ditch this place,” Zack suggested, squeezing her arm. “Go off on our little adventure.”
“Yeah, and get me fired,” Claire scoffed as she played with their entwined fingers. “I think we want that pay cheque too for the rent.”
“We won’t. Trust me. Come on,” he persisted, standing up as he brushed off the vague dust stuck against his knees. “You coming or what?”
“Where?”
“Just get your ass up, Claire. I won’t tell you twice.”
She complied, getting up to her feet, a little anxious of the possible outcomes of leaving this place, but she also felt thrilled by the adrenaline that was racing through her veins. Claire followed behind Zack as he headed onwards, stopping just at the entrance of the reception.
***
ZACK
“Just wait here while I go inside and take a call. I left my phone on the side,” he instructed Claire, hesitant to leave her alone at first, knowing she could easily wander off and pledge to follow him instead. Zack then headed inside, making a sharp right turn into the reception area where visitors and odd guests could wait around, boring themselves with a monotonous business article of last year’s print or attempt to at least look not at all vaguely interested in the casual women’s magazine when really it was quite obvious it had them hooked.
He pulled out his phone, scanning for Wickes’s name. There were several rings until eventually his old friend picked up.
“Mr. Benson, I didn’t expect to hear from you,” Wickes admitted, the distant sound of a helicopter in the background interfering through the line. “What can I do for you, sir?” he added after a short moment’s pause.
“Where are you, Wickes?” Zack inquired, glancing briefly around the corner in hope that he didn’t see a brunette walking on through.
“I’m with Kyle. He’s looking at learning lessons, so I offered to come by,” Wickes replied, another ear-splitting sound of a helicopter’s blades spinning around. Kyle learning how to fly? Now, that was something new, Zack thought. “It won’t take me long to reach you, however, sir. Where should I pick you up?” Wickes inputted.
“Actually,” Zack objected, rubbing the left side of his chin, “Wickes, you still have that Austin Healey 3000 of yours, right?” Then he moved to rub the back of his neck.
