50 Shades of Drake 3 and 4

Chapter Eighty-Seven

    Prior to being hospitalized, Aubrey had worn the same grimey clothes for weeks. The word "relieved" didn't capture the emotion he felt when Darius entered the room carrying a large, black garment bag and a pair of glossy black dress shoes. The federal agent unzipped the bag to reveal a well-constructed suit from a top-of-the-line designer.

    "It probably won't be a perfect fit or anything," Darius said, handing him the garment bag, "but I figured you'd feel more comfortable in this than the clothes you wore into the hospital."

    "The clothes I wore here can be burned," Aubrey muttered, holding up the garment bag and inspecting what he could see of the suit inside. "Is the FBI putting this on my tab?"

     Darius shook his head. "You didn't ask for it. Consider it a gift from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, for helping us to keep the details of this case contained."

    With a little difficulty, Aubrey stood up, still holding onto the heavy garment bag.

    "Did we do a good job of picking one out?" Darius asked.

    Aubrey laughed. "You guys actually did, yes. The only thing that could improve this suit is if it were tailored, which would not have been easy, considering my current location." He carried the suit into the bathroom and closed the door just enough to hide himself from view. After hanging the garment bag on the hook near the top of the door, he pulled his hospital gown over his head. "So we leave the hospital, and from there we're checking into a hotel room? Right away?"

    "Correct," Darius said from outside of the bathroom door. "If this suit is a decent fit, we'll grab you a few others."

    "There is actually a local tailor here who has my measurements on file," Aubrey told him, walking over to the hanging garment bag and unzipping it further to reveal whether or not additional clothing items were inside. A pair of fresh boxer briefs were nestled in the fold of the garment bag, and an undershirt was also included. Aubrey closed his eyes and sent up a quick thank you to the heavens above. "Gerard Piquet. He also knows my taste in suits, and I have a tab with him. It would probably be easier to just go through him to get the other suits. I would put in a call, but seeing as my phone privileges have been revoked as if I'm some junior high schooler..."

    "I explained why that is necessary."

    Aubrey stepped into the boxer briefs, looking forward to a nice hotel room with a nice, large bathtub. "I know. But that doesn't mean that I have to like it." He turned and grabbed the undershirt out of the garment bag. "With the whole Witness Protection thing-"

    "This isn't officially Witness Protection," Darius corrected him.

    "Well, then, whatever you want to call it...will I be privy to information about the case? Will you guys tell me what's happening? Or do I not even get that much?"

     "You'll have access to some of the information revolving the case," Darius told him. "But it will be limited. There are sensitive details that we are barred from discussing or mentioning to or in the presence of anyone who is not FBI or MPD. There's even information that our agency hasn't given to the MPD."

    "When did my life turn into a bad episode of a police melodrama?" Aubrey muttered, tugging on his undershirt and moving to remove the suit pants from the garment bag. He checked the item for tags, found none, and put on the pants, one leg at a time.

    "When you decided to go up against one of the most ruthless politicians in the United States," Darius answered honestly.

    Aubrey looked down while zipping up his pants. "Touche." Raising his head and evaluating his reflection, he a ran a hand over the top of his head. His hair tended to grow rather quickly, and was already beginning to get out of control. He usually got a trim every few weeks. With furrowed brows, he stroked a beard that was gaining more length than he would have liked.

    When he finished dressing, he unhooked the garment bag and carried it out of the bathroom. The dress shoes, along with a pair of dark dress socks tucked into them, were awaiting him on the seat of the chair near the window. "You really did think of everything," he remarked, giving Darius an appreciative look.

    Darius shrugged. "I may fuck up once in awhile, but paying attention to details is a part of my job."

    Aubrey grinned and clapped him on he back. "When I first met you, I had a feeling you were going to be a part of me getting out."

    "Really? What gave you that impression?"

    Aubrey grabbed the dress shoes and sat down in the chair. "I don't know...something about your eyes."

    Laughing, Darius crossed his arms over his chest. "My eyes?" he repeated.

    "I know it sounds corny, but yeah," Aubrey said. "Your eyes were too kind. I could tell that you weren't evil. Not the way Palmer is. You looked at me like...like you sympathized with me."

    "That's because I did," the dark-skinned federal agent told him, just as his phone started to ring. He held up an index finger and took the call. "Garner Adwele. Yes. The nurse said that he has paperwork to fill out, so we're working on, what...maybe a ten minute ETA? Definitely. Yes." He ended the call and glanced at his cell phone screen. "We need to get rolling."

    Once he had his socks and shoes on, Aubrey asked about his personal effects, namely his wallet and cell phone.

    "We couldn't locate either of those items at the scene," Darius told him.

    "So my wallet and phone...just gone.."

    "Unfortunately so. I'm sorry, we did look."

    Aubrey rubbed the back of his neck. That meant he had to purchase a new cell phone, cancel all of his credit cards and get them renewed, on top of having his identification cards reissued. Getting identity cards issued was always a pain in the ass. "Do you think I would be granted permission to stop off at the D.C. branch of Graham Enterprises?"

    Darius shook his head. "People would recognize you, and gossip about the fact that you went there."

    "Can an FBI agent go there, to get the documents I need?" Aubrey asked, his brows furrowing.

    "Your staff would come up with half-baked theories as to why the FBI visited the office," Darius pointed out. "I'm sorry, but we can't risk it."

    "Wow."

    "There is a lot that goes into taking down one of the most well-respected politicians in the capitol," Darius told him. "One misstep - even the tiniest of mistakes - and he could be a free man."

    Aubrey pictured the glee that had shone in Palmer's eyes when he'd described Jeremiah's attempt at kidnapping Destiny. That was all it took to get his mind back on track. Not being able to call his mother or Destiny was aggravating, but not nearly as aggravating as the thought of Palmer getting off for all of the crimes he'd committed. With a firm nod, he said, "Okay. Whatever you say. I'll follow your lead."