Conklin's Foundation (Conklin's Trilogy) (48 page)

I stood tall and squared my shoulders, ready to take on Tyler’s old fuck-buddy nanny. 

She was at the sink, re
applying her way-too-red lipstick.  Once she saw me, she rolled her eyes and stood taller, not bothering to turn around and face me.

“You need to back off.  Tyler has done everything he can for
your father,” I said strongly.  “He loves me and doesn’t want anything more to do with you.”

She cocked her head at me, eyes forming those nasty little green slits.
“Tyler and I have a history way more complex than I’m sure you could understand, sweetie.”

My eyebrows narrowed as I crossed my arms.  “Your history doesn’t mean shit anymore.  He won’t ever touch you again, so I suggest you stop trying to put your p
edo hands all over him and find someone your own age.”

She spun around, her eyes looking
demonic.  “Watch your mouth, little girl.  Tyler knew what he was doing; he was practically a consenting adult.  His father would have been proud of him for once in his life for nailing the sexy little nanny,” she said with arrogance.

“
RJ is a prick,” I said through gritted teeth.  I wanted to claw her eyes out for saying that RJ would have been proud.  She saw firsthand what an asshole he was to his sons, especially Tyler.

He
r shoulders relaxed slightly as she dropped her head.  “At least we agree on one thing,” she said quietly turning back around to face the mirror.

I shook my head, trying to regain focus on why I followed her in this ostentatious bathroom to begin with.  “Look, I’m sorry about your father, and so is Tyler.  Which is why he helped you to move him.  But please, leave him alone.  He has enough on his plate with work.”

She stood up tall again, meeting my eyes through the mirror.

“He will be just like RJ.  I’ve seen their similarities.  Yes, Tyler has a
kind heart, but they are both focused and will close everything off for that damn company,” she grumbled with irritation.  

Did she have feelings for RJ?

She slowly turned back to face me, her demeanor less threatening.  “I know Tyler loves you.  He is obviously obsessed, and you clearly feel the same way.  My actions towards Tyler aren’t what you think they are.”

I didn’t understand her.  “Flirting and insinuating sure seem to be advancements,” I said coldly.

She had a conniving smile.  “It all depends who’s watching.”

Just then, the door was closed tight followed by a loud click.  Margo and I looked at each other in confusion as I reached for the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.  Margo and I were locked in the bathroom, and
a fog started to come from the vent underneath the sink.

Chapter 29

“Open the door!” Margo shrieked, practically shoving me out of the way to reach for the knob.

“I tried.  Someone locked it!”
My nerves were settling in as the smoke started to take over the restroom.  I left the door then curiously walked to the vent to get out of Margo’s way.

Margo furi
ously yanked on the door handle then started to pound with both hands.  “Help!  Someone!  We are locked in!”

Just as I was going to turn back to face Margo, a burning sensation in my eyes began.  The smoke was hitting my face, and tears started to beat
out of my eyes like an endless stream, rolling down my cheeks to the floor.

“Ah, my eyes!” I yelled, rubbing my hands on them drastically.  The pain was becoming more intense
as more smoke filled the room.  My nose started to run, my nostrils flaring in an attempt to control the inhale of the smoke.  

I took one hand from my eyes and
rubbed my nose, feeling a warm liquid on my hand.  Barely able to open my eyes, I saw blood coming from my nose and onto my hand.

Margo s
tarted to cough.  “What is that?  Is there a fire?” she shrieked.  I started to cough as well, taking my other hand from my eye to grasp my throat.  It felt like the smoke was pouring down my throat and into my chest, making breathing very difficult.

Panic set in. 
Now I couldn’t open my eyes, and even if I were able to, I wouldn’t be able to see because the smoke was so blinding. My nose was dripping blood while my chest was on fire. I started to maneuver my way towards Margo’s cries, but my motor skills were slowing.  It was almost as though my body was a puppet, the smoke controlling my movements while my brain screamed at my hands and arms to move faster. 

Sluggishly I made my way to Margo, nearly collapsing on
top of her because my legs gave out.

Why can’t I move?!

“Put your mouth by the door,” I rasped, coughing as though I had swallowed sawdust.  I meant to lay my head down slowly, because that was how everything else in my body was starting to work, but my face crashed down.  My hands were no longer able to rub my burning eyes, throat, or nose.  The tile was cool and gave a split second of relief, but the pain in my lungs took over, feeling like they were going to collapse in my chest. 

I heard Margo’s
subtle cries. The smoke, or whatever it was, was having the same effect on her.  It was taking over our bodies, burning us from the inside out, and taking over our muscle control. 

With t
he pain taking over my body, thoughts of Tyler came rushing into my mind.

We were going to
be something.  We were in love and happy, and we were going to start a future together.  He said he wanted to get married; he said he wanted to make babies.  And here I am, immobile on the tile floor of the bathroom at his mother’s fundraiser, unable to yell or scream for help because the gas was taking over all my control.  This wasn’t fair. I finally found my happy ending, and a cloudy stream in the air was taking everything away. 

I prayed.  I prayed for my hero to come and rescue me as my eyes felt like they were turning into ash
es.  Just as the pain was slowly starting to fade, and as I almost drifted into unconsciousness, a thud hit the door, then another, and then my head was hit hard by the door that came crashing open. 

I felt his hands. 
Oh, his gentle, strong hands
, grabbing my biceps, pulling my limp body from the bathroom.  His voice was a blur, but I knew it was my Ty, my hero.

Cl
ean air started to hit my lungs even though they still felt like a crumpled up brown paper bag.  I heard shrieking then felt Tyler completely lift me, carrying me somewhere.

My eyes were still on fire along with my throat, but with the more clean air that traveled through my
blood-stained nostrils and into my chest, the more coherent my mind became.

“Becca?  Please, Becs, wake up baby doll,” Tyler’s voice broke th
rough the fog in my head.  I still couldn’t open my eyes, and I tried to open my mouth but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Set her down.  S
he needs oxygen,” I heard a deep voice say.  Tyler moved to a sitting position, holding me in his lap.

“Put the mask on her here, I’
m not letting her go,” Tyler said as he brushed my hair to the side.

“Sir, it would be better if she lay down,” the deep voice
said with a calming tone.

After a beat, I felt Tyler move me to the ground.  It was cold and wet, and I was almost positive I
was lying on concrete.

“Jesus, she is freezing,”
I heard Tyler grumble. Then I felt a heavy fabric being laid across my middle.  “Stay with me Becs,” Tyler pleaded, both of his hands holding my head in place.

I felt hands fiddling with my ears and a piece of fabric…
maybe elastic, being wrapped around my face.  The smell of plastic invaded my nostrils.  It was welcoming compared to the numbing burn that had taken place for what felt like hours.

“Someone get some water
. We need to remove the chemicals from their skin,” the deep voice shouted.

“What
the hell was that?” Tyler asked in confusion, still stroking my head.  The fog was starting to go away, and my mind was becoming clearer.

“
Chlorobenzylidenemalononitrile, also known as CS, also known as tear gas,” the deep, gentle voice said.  I felt a soft, cool cloth rub across my face, helping the burning sensation to leave my skin.

I attempted to open my eyes, but closed them quickly.  Being able to feel my arms again, I lazily moved them to my face, wanting to rub away the remaining itchy burning sensation.

“Becca, you can’t rub.  It will only make it worse.  Hold her hands down, sir,” the deep voice said.  I felt Tyler grab my wrists.

“It hurts,” I croaked through the gas mask.

“Oh, Becs,” Tyler said in relief from hearing my voice, squeezing my wrists.

“Just give it some time to wear off.  The oxygen will help. 
After 20 minutes it won’t hurt anymore,” the man said, his deep voice eerily calm.  “Focus on getting that clean air into your lungs.  Yes, deep breaths just like that, Becca.”

“
Were there any others trapped?” the deep voice asked.

“Just her and the wo
man next to her in the restroom.” I heard Tyler gulp and his voice almost cracked. “And another one went off in the bridal suite while my mother was in there.  But she was the only one.  My father got her out.”

“Alright Becca, we are going to slowly sit you up, ready?” the deep voice said.

I nodded my head, still not wanting to open my eyes.  I felt Tyler gently help me up, and then I leaned into his broad chest as he pulled me onto his lap. 

“Easy baby doll.
The medic is going to try and rinse out your eyes.  It will make them not burn so much, okay?  Just try and relax,” he said soothingly, his arms rubbing my biceps trying to create warmth. 

The water flushing out my eyes
felt surprisingly wonderful, and I could half open them once they were done.  Feeling half way back to normal, I pointed to the mask and looked at the medic.  He nodded his head and took it off my face.

I crashed back into Tyler’s chest as I took a big deep breath.  “What happened?” I s
aid with a scratchy voice.  My throat was still dry and itchy.

“I’m not sure.  I was coming to find you
, then I heard yelling and saw smoke then panicked.  Someone set off tear gas in the bathroom and bridal suite.  It was awful the entire five seconds I was in it to pull you and Margo out, I can only imagine how horrible it was for you to be in there for an entire minute.”

Was that all I was in there for?   It felt like hours…
days even.  The gas slowly took away my strength and clarity, and the uncontrollable burning was detrimental, making time seem to stop.

“Is Margo okay?  And your mom?”  I searched the sidewalk outside, looking for Margo and Tyler’s mom.  I remembered Margo freaking out, basically having a panic attack.  I was too close to the fog to have time to panic.  Finally, my eyes found Margo about 15 feet away,
sitting by herself with a medic while Mary was lying on a stretcher.  RJ was by her side, looking intently down at her while she had the oxygen mask on.  Her eyes were still closed, and her face was blotchy with red streaks.  A medic was wiping her face.

I caught RJ move his head to look over at Margo.  He had such an
indecisive look on his face.  He was looking back and forth between Mary and Margo in contemplation, keeping a rhythmic stroke on Mary’s arm.  It was still odd to see him showing affection to Mary with all of the horrible things Tyler had told me about their relationship.  If anything, it gave me a little faith in RJ, that he might actually love her and care.  But why was he looking like he wanted to console Margo as well?

“
Yes, they will be fine.  Mom was in there longer though; she might take some time to come back.  If she doesn’t show progress soon, they are going to take her to the hospital to make sure everything is okay,” Tyler said, gently starting to rock.  I wasn’t sure if he were doing it to comfort me or himself.  He kept one arm firmly around my middle while the other constantly stroked my hair.  “Maybe I should take you in and make sure everything is okay,” he added.

“I’m feeling a lot better,” I said.  My eyes didn’t bu
rn, but they were awfully tired. My throat still hurt but wasn’t searing with blistering pain.  I consciously wiped my nose, remembering the feeling of warm liquid on my hands earlier.  I still had the crimson streak of blood on my hand.

“I need to take a shower,” I said softly, feeling embarrassed that I was such a mess.

“Let’s wait for the medic to come back and tell us what we should do,” Tyler said soothingly, still gently rocking.  I closed my eyes, enjoying his nurturing.

“Okay, Becca.  Let’s try to sta
nd up and move around, okay?” the very large medic said.  He was standing over us, his big dark eyes looking kindly down at me, holding his hand out to help me stand.  I took it gratefully. 

“Careful, Becs,” Tyler said, standing with me, not letting his hands off of my waist.

I really did feel good enough to stand on my own, and I was glad the oxygen had helped bring me back to the norm.