Chapter 39: Danny VI--None of His Business

A/N: Ok now the smoke from 8 different fires can be seen from space!!! Listen all you people who would make campfires when the sign says they’re banned....DON’T DO IT DAMMIT SMOKEY THE BEAR WAS RIGHT!! Oh my allergies.........

Chapter 39: Danny VI—None of His Business

None of his business, none of his business.....it kept running through Danny’s mind. Was Patrick right? None of his business.....but it felt like his business. It had to be if he felt this way. He felt cold, he was trembling and there was a sheen of sweat all over his body. There was no feeling left in his bottom lip, he had been gnawing it so badly.

He had to know, he had to help. Maybe he was meant to help. Everyone else ignored and snickered and looked away. Well, he wasn’t going to! He was going to make a difference.

Danny’s heart stopped as he pulled up to the Roy house in enough time to see a police car pulling out of the driveway. What the hell was this? Had she called for help when she knew Patrick was away?

Danny stayed in his car, blinking until the police car had gone out of sight. Something told him that perhaps he should leave now. It was the right time to leave.

Last chance! A voice rang in his head. Last chance! What did that mean?

Danny sighed. He wasn’t a coward. With heart in his throat, Danny wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and strode to the front door. It was odd how familiar this house was too him now. Just a week ago he had felt awkward and strange on the front porch.

He knocked on the door, holding his breath.

Michele opened it, her face was flushed and her lips were a compressed, tight line. Danny’s resolve almost died right there. This was the look of a severely angry woman. He remembered cringing when his mother gave him such a look.

Michele didn’t say anything. Her eyes fluttered a bit, she sighed, and then she turned around walking further into the house, leaving the door open. Danny stood still, he wasn’t sure what to do. He waited. There was silence. He waited longer, and there was nothing. Finally, he licked his lips and entered the house, closing the door.

Michele had walked into the living room. Danny found her sitting on a large, soft recliner, her tiny body almost swallowed in it. She was sitting on her legs, gazing vacantly at a beat up puck she was fingering as it lay on the arm of the recliner. "I tell them, and I tell them," she finally said, her voice low and soft, "not to play with real pucks in the house. I don’t want them playing with real pucks outside either."

Danny’s chest began to hurt. Michele looked up at him. Her face was colorless now.

"They don’t wear pads," Michele continued. "These pucks hurt! Patrick encourages them too....he tells them stories. How strong he was when he was a baby, how his baby sister could withstand puck blows. And what do they do? They copy! And Jana has a black eye now. My baby has a black eye!"

Danny couldn’t talk. What could he say? He was feeling more and more helpless with each passing second.

Michele scooped up the puck and clasped it between both hands. She looked down, sighed and then with a ghost of a smile she looked up. There was a spark of life returned to her eyes, that relaxed so much in Danny. "What are you doing here, Daniel?" she asked. "You haven’t been cleared to skate, eh? Do your teammates even remember their Daniel? Or do you belong to my children?"

Danny raised his eyebrows, trying to muster a smile, but he couldn’t. Not even for her sake.

"What’s wrong, silly puppy," Michele said, reaching out and grabbing his hand, giving it a squeeze that almost broke his heart. "I can see your eyes. Why are you looking at me like that, like you’re looking for something you can’t find."

Danny could feel his cheeks coloring and he looked down at the wood floor. He had been scanning her face and what little skin she was showing for any sign that he had hurt her. Anything fresh.

"It’s alright," Michele said. "You can tell me."

"Michele," Danny said. "Why were the police here?"

His hand felt as if it suddenly went cold and Michele dropped it.

She began rolling the puck in her hand and she leaned her cheek onto the arm of the recliner. She closed her eyes. "They were informing me of their findings," she said with a tired voice.

"Oh," Danny said. "And have they...."

Michele shot her glance up to him. "They’re inept!" she said with husky anger in her voice. "They’ve been chasing their tails and licking their asses and now they will blame me for it!"

"What?" Danny asked. "Mimi, how can they blame you?"

Michele shrugged. "Because they’re lazy. They found no break in, they found no footprints, they found no fingerprints, they found nothing! What they thought they had was a broken fence, Frederick broke that fence. So that they never had."

Michele sat up. "What they think, is that I made him up."

Danny shook his head. This was ridiculous. "Keaner, Tangers, they saw him!"

With a roll of her eyes, Michele waved her hand in the air as if she were shooing a fly. "They’re friends of my husband," she said. "And so in the eyes of the police, they will say anything."

"They think Patrick.." Danny began and then he stopped.

Michele nodded. "They implied. They come in and drink my coffee. They smile and put their hands on my arm, and they ask if Patrick is away. I say yes and then they sit down. They look at me, as if, as if I were a baby! They ask me if things are going well between us, they remind me of what happened before when....then they say...they tell me how they can help me, how they can keep him away....Daniel! Some man assaulted me! Some strange man, he asked about the children! He threatened my babies! He hits me, he bruises me, and those basterds tell me that I created him to protect my husband?! I felt his foot under my heel, I felt my elbow hit his chest! I am not crazy!"

Danny was burning up all over. Rolling anger was billowing in his body as he squatted down in front of the recliner until he was at eye level with Michele. She was beginning to tremble, and it was killing him.

"What am I going to do?" she asked barely louder than a whisper. "They think I cry wolf, and then he comes again...."

"Shhh!" Danny said. "Mimi, you’re gonna be OK! Don’t talk like that."

Michele closed her eyes tightly as if she were trying to squeeze out something within her brain. When she opened them they were clear and soft, almost like the eyes of a girl. "You’re too sweet," she said. "Too sweet." Danny found himself trembling a bit when she ran her fingers through his hair. "But," she added. "You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here, leaving your team like this."

"I..Michele, this is probably the last thing you need to hear.." Danny said. He felt like an ogre now. "Mimi, I was worried about you."

Michele blinked, as innocent as a deer. "Why?" she asked.

"Well...Patrick...we saw him today and..." he looked away, unable to finish.

Michele’s eyes narrowed. "And you had the same thing on your mind as the police, didn’t you!"

Danny looked back at her.

"Just like them!" Michele snapped. "No different!"

"Well dammit Mimi you should have heard him talking!" Danny cried. "What was I supposed to think? We saw the scratches on him and we saw the bite! And he laughed about it, he flaunted them!"

Michele blushed. "Oh," she said quietly. "I can imagine what he said...it isn’t like that."

"What happened?" Danny asked.

"I had a nightmare, and as Patrick tried to wake me, I bit him," Michele said.

"Oh, Mimi," Danny said, looking into Michele’s blushing face. That was a worse lie than the onions excuse. Could he play along with her anymore? Someone had to reach out to her.

"He didn’t hurt me, Daniel," Michele said, her eyes were begging.

Danny sighed. "What about that old bruise on your back? Where did that come from?"

Michele’s mouth opened a little bit. "What? Daniel...that was from one of the babies. I was roughing with them and perhaps I got banged up a little bit and..."

"Stop it," Danny said. "Mimi, please."

He picked up her hand, the bruises that were encircling the wrist were starting to yellow and fade. The bruise on her mouth was as well. With no resistance from her, he reached up and began to unbutton the blouse she was wearing. He couldn’t look into her eyes. All he heard was the blood rushing in his ears, but he was determined.

"Daniel," Michele whispered. "What are you doing?"

When he had unfastened half of the buttons, he looked at her face again. There was confusion written all over it. There was fear. "I’m not going to hurt you," he said.

Michele slowly nodded.

Danny placed his palm on the top of her shoulder and he slid half of the blouse down, exposing her upper arm and what he thought he would find. Another trail of purple, round bruises. They were the perfect shapes for the mark of an angry hand, gripping her there.

"Was this part of the nightmare?" Danny asked.

"He had to hold me tightly!" Michele said coldly as she pulled the blouse back up. " I was insensible, I was screaming. It was an accident."

Danny nodded. "OK," he lied. "I believe you."

"Please, Daniel," Michele said tears starting to spring into her eyes. "Don’t interfere! Patrick has a good heart, a loving heart. Think what you like but please, just do one thing for me."

"Anything," Danny said, and he meant it.

"Be my friend," Michele whispered. "And don’t tell Patrick you came here."

"Oh, God!" Danny said and he grabbed Michele into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. Almost immediately Michele started to sob, and it took everything out of Danny not to cry himself. He had the strange feeling inside himself, that he was holding onto a woman drowning, and maybe he wouldn’t be able to save her.

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