The Mystery of Jayden Holmes (A Greg Lestrade fanfic)

Chapter Eleven

“Hurry this up, Mycroft. I’m really not in a mood to deal with you at the moment,” I growled into the phone as I walked through the light drizzle of cool rain.

                “Don’t forget, sister dearest, you are the one that called me.” I could hear the obnoxious smirk in his voice and it made me want to slap him.

                “Yes, but I’m only calling because I’m being polite enough to reply to a missed call. If all you’re going to do is taunt me, then I’m hanging up.”

                “Actually, I do have a matter of importance to speak with you about. Get in the van, Victoria, no questions asked. I will answer any questions you have when you arrive at my office. This isn’t quite the appropriate way to discuss this matter.” He clicked his tongue in irritation and I rolled my eyes, hanging up. Just as I slid my phone in my pocket, a black van pulled to a stop beside me and the door opened to reveal Mycroft’s assistant, Anthea, tapping away on her phone.

                “I’m guessing you’re as thrilled to be here as I am,” I muttered as I took my seat beside her and shut the door. She didn’t reply, but gave a small raise of her eye brows as if she were annoyed by my attempt at conversation. “What, has Mycroft threatened you to not speak? He is one for black mail.” I crossed my legs and she continued typing away.

                I gave up and watched the scenery of London slip by as I was taken to my brother’s office. I watched Big Ben peek out above all of the other buildings and the London Eye, filled with foreigners, rotate around. Anthea tapped a little more furiously on her phone and I let out a heavy sigh as it began to irritate me. The small, black extension to her hand dinged a few times as she received new e-mails and I rolled my eyes.

                I could see Mycroft’s building coming into view so I rolled my window down. I smirked as I swiftly snatched her phone and threw it out the window, watching it smash into pieces on the road.

                “Oops,” I said, faking innocence as I stepped out of the van. She gave me a look that was a mix between astonishment and aggravation and I just chuckled to myself.

                An older man met me outside and led me up to my brother’s office. The closer we got, the darker it seemed to get and the heavier the security became. When we arrived at his door, the old man walked away and some security guards did a pat down just to make sure I didn’t have anything to harm Mycroft with.

                “Hello, sister dearest,” Mycroft greeted as I walked in. It was a small, dark room with heavily locked filing cabinets and a few computers. By the thickness of the walls and the lack of any source of natural light, I could tell he was trying to hide not only some big secrets that were not meant for the public ear, but also himself.

                “Cut to the chase, Myc. Why am I here? What was so important that you just had to see me in person in your little convict cell?” I asked as I took a seat in the cushioned leather seat that sat across from his desk.

                He folded his hands and looked at me dead serious. I could tell this was something a little more than just keeping an eye on his criminal little sister.

                “Jim Moriarty,” he muttered simply and I sat back in my seat, knowing exactly where this was going. “I know he has been keeping in touch with you. Whether or not this is something to do with him getting back at you or because of some kind of secret none of us have picked up on yet, I do not know. What I do know is that any contact with that man needs to be given up.”

                “You think I want my ex-fiancé constantly plaguing me? I left him for a reason, Mycroft. I’m trying to give up contact with that man, but he is very persistent. There’s no getting away from him.” I leaned forward, my arms resting on the edge of his desk. “That man is a disease. He’s like cancer. Just when you think you’ve found an escape, he’s right there to remind you that you’re his. There is no getting away from that man. Do you really think I would take the abuse from him that I did if I could find a way out?

                “Even if I was able to find a way out, he would still haunt me. As independent as I am, I would have no chance of survival without him. He has given me everything. Even if you or Sherlock had accepted me if I had come running back to you, he would still be there. He would ruin me. He would kill me. I’m only so lucky right now because he is playing some stupid game with Sherlock, but you know all about that, don’t you, brother dearest?” My voice continued to rise as I spoke and I could hear myself becoming more frantic.

                “Victoria…” Mycroft murmured softly and I shot up, knocking my chair back and slamming my hands down hard.

                “I can’t do this…” I rushed out, not even paying attention to the guards that were yelling after me.

                My feet carried me as fast as they could to where ever they wanted. My mind was in an entirely different place and before I knew it, I was at Scotland Yard. I took in a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself before walking in to find Greg. He was sitting at his desk talking to Donovan. I leaned against the open door frame for a few seconds before Greg noticed me with a smile.

                “Sally, why don’t we continue this conversation later?” He looked back to the other woman.

                “Fine, but this other copycat murder isn’t going to solve itself,” she said in a sour tone.

                There had been another murder framed on me. I had to wonder how long it would have taken for me to hear about this one had I not been there to catch that conversation.

                Sally turned and walked out in a huff, muttering under her breath as she passed me. “Freak,”

                “Whore,” I whispered in reply, knowing she had heard me even though she didn’t say a word in reply.

                “You sound busy. Should I maybe come back later?” I questioned, walking a little further into the room.

                “No, no, you’re fine. Everyone is just a bit stressed that even Sherlock is having an issue with these murders.” He sighed and I half sat on his desk with a small smile.

                “He’s Sherlock. He’s stubborn. He’ll figure it out if it’s the last thing he does.”

                “You’re right about the stubborn part.” He laughed slightly and it seemed to soothe me a bit. It was something I needed to hear at the time. After my breakdown at Myc’s, my mind was a little fragile at the moment.

                I jumped a little as I felt him grab my hand gently. “Are you okay?”

                “Yeah, I’m fine…I’ve just had a hard day, that’s all.” I forced a smile and he pulled me to sit in his lap, giving me a simple kiss on the cheek.

                “But you make it better,” I whispered. For the first time in a long time, I was actually happy.