Page 98 of King
“Fuck no, sugar, no, no, no,” I whispered brokenly.
“Pull up the footage from the cameras in the parking lot,” Cowboy instructed angrily.
Bull pounded away at his keyboard, making it obvious that he’d rather be pounding my face right about now. I couldn’t blame him.
I watched as Ella almost crashed into Camille on the sidewalk, before grabbing her arm and all but dragging her to the car. They drove out of sight just moments later, with Ella ducking down out of sight until they cleared the front gate.
I sagged against the wall; my legs unable to hold my weight as the magnitude of my fuckup hit me. Ella had heard every vicious lie that had fallen from my tongue, and judging by the look on her face, she had believed every single one.
No one said a word for several long moments. Finally, Bull pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up.
“That woman has never hurt a soul, and you managed to rip hers to shreds in less than three goddamned minutes. You’d better fucking fix this,” he said quietly, then turned and left his office without another word.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at my best friend, knowing how much he’d been against the plan all along.
“I’m gonna guess that Ella isn’t really havin’ phone trouble. She just didn’t wanna talk to anyone,” he observed, and I nodded bleakly.
“What are you gonna do, man?”
“I need to talk to her right now. I need to explain what happened, why I said those things.” I pulled out my phone and dialed her number, only for her voice mail to pick up immediately. I left a message, even though I doubted she would listen to it.
“Ella, what you heard yesterday, none of it was true. It was an act, sugar. I was…dammit, I was trying to divert attention from you to keep you safe. I didn’t mean any of it. Not one fuckin’ word, I swear. Please call me.”
I disconnected the call, then scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I’d saved for Camille after Bull had tracked it down yesterday. She didn’t answer, nor did Kim when I tried her number next. I left similar messages for them, asking them to relay them to Ella and begging them to have her call me.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket, then shoved my fist through the wall of Bull’s office. Luckily, the drywall gave way easily, and I had managed to avoid hitting a stud in the wall, although breaking my hand would have fucking served me right.
“I’m going to Chicago,” I announced with steely determination. “I need to see her face to face, if I have any hope at all of explaining this clusterfuck.”
“Get a goddamned ice pack for your hand before you go, dumbass. Your knuckles are already startin’ to bruise,” Cowboy grumbled, then clasped my shoulder and gave it a shake. “Use the drive up there to figure out what the hell to say to her, brother, because you may only get one chance to explain. Good luck.”
I nodded and walked out of the office, only to be stopped in the hallway by Bull. He held something up to my face, but it took me a moment to realize what it was. A broken birthday candle.
“I found this on the floor of the pantry. It must be what she went in there for. A birthday candle, to go on a birthday cake that she made for your nephew’s birthday, because that’s the kind of woman she is,” he said quietly. “I understand that you were trying to throw Pic off the scent, but even if she forgives you, she’s going to have a hard time forgetting how brutal those words were.” He walked into his office and cursed when he saw the hole I’d left in his wall. I walked away as he was shouting for a prospect to come fix it.
I didn’t bother taking time to pack anything, and ten minutes later I was on the interstate heading north, with a disposable ice pack taped to my right hand, trying to figure out how in the hell I was ever going to be able to make this right.
It was almost nine o’clock when I pulled my bike to a stop in front of the townhouse that Kim owned. The porch light was on, but it was dark inside. I rang the bell anyway, but clearly they were out for the evening. I checked the map on my phone and found an all-night coffee shop a few blocks away, so I fired my bike up again and headed there. I was in desperate need of somecaffeine to get my brain firing on all cylinders before I had to face Ella.
A short while later, I sat in a vinyl booth, picking at a piece of pie that I didn’t want, and drinking coffee that was so strong that I was probably growing more hair on my chest. I tried to call Ella again, then Camille, then Kim. No answer, as expected. I was debating whether to ask Bull to ping their phones so I could track them down, when a text popped in from Kim. I fumbled the phone in my haste to open it.
Kim: We haven’t told her about your messages yet. I thought you might want to see how she’s dealing with your so-called act…
There was a video attachment, and I hesitated briefly before hitting play. The video was recorded in some kind of a club, showing a darkened dance floor, lit only by the flash of the strobe lights and neon light strips outlining the area. The view changed, as the person recording zoomed in on the DJ booth where a woman with wide purple streaks in her hair was running the controls.
“I don’t normally take requests, but when I heard Ella’s story, there was no fuckin’ way I could say no. I got your back, babe. You, and any other woman here tonight who’s ever been fucked over by a man. You take back your power, ladies, and this is how you fuckin’ do it. Paloma Faith is here to tell you; this is how you leave a man!”
There was a roar of approval from the crowd as the music started playing. I wasn’t familiar with the song, but it didn’t take long to understand why Ella had requested it.
He’ll know when you’re tired of neglect and degraded
He’ll find out when he wakes up alone
He’ll call you ten times but don’t take it
Don’t take it
The camera zoomed in again as the chorus kicked in, and I got a glimpse of Ella dancing alone, her body moving seductively to the throbbing beat. She looked sexy as hell, and then she turned toward the camera, and I saw her face. She looked angry, and defiant, but for just a moment the mask slipped, and I got a glimpse of the stark pain underneath it all. I felt like I’d been punched in the chest.
