It’s been a day.
A day since I watched Kingston get stabbed, since I ran. A day since I’ve heard nothing. There’s nothing on the news, nothing online, as far as everyone is concerned nothing happened.
I didn’t know if Kingston was alive. If Ace or Micha were. I didn’t know where Tobias was or his son.
I’ve stopped crying. Truthfully, I have nothing left to give.
I could only hide for so long, Tobias would find me eventually. I had nothing, no phone, no clothes, only the small amount of money in my bank account and that wouldn’t last long.
I should have known it was a trick. Of course, he wouldn’t let Tate go. Why would he? He’s not a man of his word, he can’t be trusted and me and my stupid need to help Tate made me blind to it.
I know now.
But it’s too late now.
I betrayed Kingston.
I ran.
And it was over.
I pull my knees to my chest, hugging my arms around them. The hotel was cheap, the sheets scratching and smelling like dust. At night, I hear shouting and screams both from inside the building and on the streets. I was no safer here than I was out there.
“Fucking stupid,” I growl at myself, “I’m so fucking stupid!”
I’ve barely slept, I’ve not eaten, I didn’t know what to do from here.
I lay in the bed, staring blankly at the wall across from me, the curtains open and letting in a dim glow cast by the streetlights outside. It’s rained non-stop since yesterday, the roads were flooded, the clouds seeming to be never ending with no break in the weather at all.
It was fitting.
My body was exhausted, my emotions shot, yet I still couldn’t sleep. All I could see was Kingston, bleeding, falling to his knees.
I had to hope he wasn’t dead. Not when the idea of it was opening this great yawning pit of emptiness inside me.
When did it happen? I wonder. When did I fall in love with him?
It’s a little past midnight when I hear footsteps outside my hotel room. I dismiss it as one of the other guests, but then they pause, and I glance, sleepy eyed towards the door to see their shadow blocking the light from beneath the door.
My heart leaps into my throat and I stop breathing for a minute as if they can hear me.
Their knuckles tap on the door.
I don’t move.
“Eleanor?” It’s Ace’s voice that sounds through the wood, muffled and rough, tired.
I scramble off the bed, tangling my legs and tripping, but I manage to get there, ripping it open to find him leaning on the door frame. His eyes are red rimmed and dark shadows sit underneath. There are bruises all over his face, cuts and as he stumbles towards me, I see the limp, the way he favors his left side to his right and wraps one had around his ribs. He was hurt. Badly.
“Ace!” I rush.
He gives me the smallest of smiles.
I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. He only manages one arm, but it’s tight and warm and meaningful.
I guide him into the hotel room, check left and right down the hall and then close the door.
He slumps on the bed and sighs heavily, leaning forward until his elbows rest on his knees and his face is cupped in his hands.
He looks exhausted. Defeated.
I ignore the panic rising in my gut, the dread.
“Ace?”
“Why are you still here, Eleanor?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” I snap, “How did you find me?”
“You should know by now we have our ways,” he says.
“Does that mean – is he alive!?” The words rush from me, jumbling together almost to the point they become incoherent.
Ace slowly rises his head, those eyes suddenly no longer tired.
Pain.
That’s what that was.
No. No.
“Ace?” My voice cracks. I was shattering. I could feel this chasm building inside my chest, it fractured like a crack in the earth and now, now it was opening. Wider and wider the longer the silence goes on.
“Ace, please.”
He sighs heavily but then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Eleanor.”
“No,” I whisper, “No, Ace, please.”
“Kingston died, Eleanor.” He sighs, standing and limping over to me, “He’s dead. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head frantically, “No.”
“I’m sorry.” He grabs me, hauling me to his chest, “I’m sorry.”
It was my fault. Kingston was dead, because of me. I’d lead Tobias to him. I let him in. He’d killed him.
Because of me.
That chasm, it bursts wide open and darkness seeps in. It burns. It all burns. But I let Ace hold me. I don’t move, and I don’t cry.
Kingston was dead.
Tears wouldn’t fix it.
They wouldn’t change it.
Nothing would, but there was something I could do.
“Eleanor,” Ace smooths his hand down the back of my hair, “you have to leave.”
“With what money, Ace? I have no job, I can’t go home.”
He swallows, “Kingston had money, he’d made a point of leaving you a hefty amount should something happen to him. It’s in a different account.”
“He did what?” I push away from him, he keeps me close as if uncertain what I’ll do, “I don’t want his money.”
“Eleanor, he’d want you to be safe.”
“Yeah, well, King’s dead, so it doesn’t matter what he wants.”
“Eleanor,” he pleads.
“I’ll leave,” I lie, “But I don’t want his money.”
“How will you survive?”
“I’m a big girl, Ace,” I sigh, “I’ll handle myself.”
“Eleanor…”
“He’s dead,” I snatch out of his arms, standing abruptly, my stomach churning violently, “and it’s my fault. I may as well have plunged that knife into his chest.”
“No,” he holds out his hands, “No, Eleanor.”
He wouldn’t let it go, I realize, he would push until I agreed with him, until I promised to leave and take the money. I’d have to give him what he wanted.
I allow him to guide me back to the bed, I let him tuck me in, telling me to sleep. I tell him I’ll leave in the morning, I’ll take the money, and I’ll leave. He nods but doesn’t leave, opting to stay in the chair for the rest of the night, watching me, napping there and when morning comes, I pack the meager things I have, and we stand face to face.
I doubted this was the last time I’d see Ace, but I pretend like it is.
“Bye, Ace.”
He smiles gently and cups my face, “you were good for him. Go live, Eleanor.” Tears burn my eyes as he kisses my cheek, “If only it could have ended differently.”
It was going to end differently. It was going to end the right way.