Bleeding Heart

by Taylor Holloway

  “Then who hired you?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say, Mr. Durant.”

  “What?” I honestly didn’t fully believe that my father hadn’t hired him at that point. My father had a somewhat dark and twisted sense of humor. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that this could be some type of weird prank played to further punish me. I hoped it was.

  “I can’t tell you who paid me for my services today. Just know that you aren’t without friends in this world.”

  “What the fuck? How can you bail me out without my consent? I’m only going to give you my consent if you tell me who hired you,” I snapped angrily.

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” he replied, smiling at me like an asshole. He was starting to genuinely annoy me at this point. “You’ve already been bailed out. You don’t get to go back to jail unless you get arrested again. I really don’t recommend that by the way.”

  “How much was my bail?” I asked, thinking I knew exactly how to get the information I wanted.

  “Fifteen-thousand dollars.”

  Good. Not that much. They’d probably told me that figure before while I was being processed like cattle, but I hadn’t absorbed much besides misery since Nathan had pulled me off of Andrew MacMillan.

  “How much did your services cost?” I followed up.

  “Ten percent of that.”

  “I’ll pay you twenty-five hundred dollars right now, in cash, to tell me who hired you.” As I spoke, I pulled my wallet out of my jeans and started counting out the money. The man’s eyes darted to my hands hungrily. Yeah, this was going to work. Dangling money in front of them pretty much always made people more helpful.

  “Fine. But I can’t tell you a name. I can only tell you a physical description and the vehicle. The person didn’t leave a name. The rest is up to you.”

  “Good enough. Tell me.”

  “Ok. It was a girl, probably a teenager? She was maybe this high,” he gestured to his neck, indicating maybe a shade over five feet, “and had brown hair. She drove off in a blue Mercedes SUV. The color was pretty unique. It was like a turquoise blue.”

  Angelica Ellis drove a custom painted ‘Tiffany blue’, Mercedes SUV. I remembered her talking about it at great length one time, despite my repeated efforts to change the subject to something I gave a shit about. I remembered seeing that SUV recently, too. I saw Saturday night, even though that felt like eons ago. But Angelica was a leggy blonde, not a petite brunette. Angelica was also twenty-one.

  He was describing Clara Ellis.

  I handed over the cash and the guy took it and disappeared out the front door, and out of my life forever. I was too stunned to do anything but stare after him. I still half-expected my father to appear while laughing his ass off, but he never did. I pulled out my phone and began fact checking what I’d just paid for.

  It was all true.

  My father had abandoned me, and it seemed that Clara Ellis was my anonymous savior. It made sense that she would try to bail me out anonymously. She wouldn’t want anyone to know what had almost happened to her. It would inevitably end up in the news, and she was a shy girl. She wasn’t even supposed to be at that party.

  Also, if what that greedy jerk who just bailed me out said was true, Senator Ellis would never go against my father’s wishes to bail me out. Or allow his daughter to do so. I would have to remember this in the future. Clara had done me a real favor. She hadn’t asked me to beat that guy up; Clara had been basically unconscious at the time, but she must have been grateful anyway. I was grateful to her as well.

  But gratitude would have to wait. I was completely alone for the first time in my life, and I needed to plan. My dad had decided to trade me for a political win, and there was no way I’d ever be willing to trust him again. I never wanted to see him again.

  I made a promise to myself right then in the police station. I’d sever the relationship with my father and family completely. I would make myself a life that I could be proud of, something that was mine. Something that my father couldn’t ever corrupt with his schemes.

  The past three days had taught me something about the world that twenty-three years hadn’t ever managed to do. The world isn’t just indifferent shit, it’s actively malevolent shit. Everyone’s just out to fuck you over when the time is right. Even your own family. Especially your own family.

  Believing that my family loved me had been a mistake. Clearly, no one did. It was a mistake I wouldn’t make again.

  The world is full of terrible people who make terrible choices. I was one of them. My father was another. The Philadelphia jail system was full of thousands, and those were just the ones who’d been caught so far. There was nothing I could do to change that. What I could do, and what I would do, was be better at being a terrible person than my father.

  I’d accept the fact that being red of tooth and claw was necessary and fight my way to the top of the food chain.

  34

  Madison

  Eleven years ago…

  “There was blood everywhere. Everywhere. It’s not like with your ears at all. They don’t use the little piercing gun. They use a needle and the needle is like three inches long. They just hold you in place and then push it in really slow so the holes will be straight. Then, quickly so you don’t bleed too much, they yank out the needle and put in the piercing.”

  Angelica Ellis was using my visit to see Clara before I left for college the next weekend to show off her new bellybutton piercing.

  “Wow,” I said, feigning something like appreciative interest, “did it hurt a lot?”

  “Yes, oh my god, it was so painful. I screamed like a banshee. I almost passed out,” she cried, “but it was so worth it. Isn’t it sexy?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I said honestly, “but I’d be way too scared to ever do anything like that. I hate needles, and infections are gross.”

  Angelica grinned like I had just paid her a complement, which I hadn’t, but whatever. She preened in front of the mirror, posing her abdomen this way and that while Clara and I watched uncomfortably. Usually she ignored us both. Something was up.

  “So, Clara. So, Madison,” she finally said after getting bored of admiring herself, “There’s going to be another party tonight at the Durant house. You two definitely aren’t invited. You know, after what happened last time.”

  Clara and I exchanged a look. Angelica came in here just to rub that in? Of course she did. She was such a petty bitch.

  “Ok,” Clara said after a second, “I hope you have fun!”

  Honestly, I don’t think either of us was up for a repeat of the last party at the Durant house. I wanted to see Alexander again, but at the same time, I didn’t want to see him. I wasn’t sure I could bear it, even though I dreamed about it every night. However, from what I understood he didn’t even live at the Durant estate anymore. He’d had a serious falling out with his family over the whole not bailing him out of jail thing. So even if there was a party, there was no guarantee he’d be there. In fact, there was a very good chance he wouldn’t be.

  “Clara,” Angelica asked, “did you ever talk to Alexander after the last party? You know, the one where all the shit went down?”

  Clara shook her head.

  “No,” Clara answered, “I don’t even know how to get in touch with him. I don’t have his number or anything. Why?”

  Angelica was looking for something. She wasn’t good at being subtle. She pursed her lips.

  “Oh no reason,” Angelica said lightly, “I was just curious. Madison, did you talk to him?”

  “Me? No. He doesn’t like me,” I answered, “and I don’t know his number either. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, well that’s true,” she replied flippantly, “he doesn’t like you at all.”

  She went back to admiring herself in the mirror and pulled out a tube of Chanel lipstick. She applied the color—a vivid, Barbie pink—smacking her lips together and then blotting them before
speaking again. Clara and I waited silently. She would eventually get to the point. One day.

  “Well, I was just wondering,” she said eventually, “because Alexander mentioned something the other day about Clara. He said she was a nice person.”

  “Clara is a nice person,” I replied. This wasn’t exactly breaking news. Everyone liked Clara.

  “Yeah sure,” Angelica said, “I mean Clara’s super great I guess. I was just wondering why he would say that, you know?”

  “Not really,” I lied to Angelica, my heart beginning to beat harder in my chest, “did he say why?”

  “No, he didn’t,” she snapped, “that’s why I’m asking you.”

  “Well we don’t know,” Clara finally said, exasperated, “don’t you have to get ready?”

  Angelica shot her sister a dirty look. Then she smiled and looked at me in the mirror. She turned to stare me in the eye directly, flipping her hair dramatically and posing so her new piercing was starkly visible between her crop top and her low-slung jeans.

  “Yes,” Angelica purred, “but I’m not going to the Durant party. I’ve got a date with Alexander.”

  Oh. That was why she came in here. And it hurt. Bad. But I tried not to let the pain in my heart show up on my face. Angelica could smell weakness from a mile away like a hungry tiger. It was no surprise she’d picked up on my crush on Alexander. She’d just come to make me feel shitty. Mission accomplished.

  “Oh wow,” I said, attempting the same fake enthusiasm I’d greeted her stupid belly button ring with, “I hope you have a great time.”

  She matched my fake enthusiasm with her own genuine glee.

  “Oh, I will,” She smiled sweetly, “I most definitely will.”

  When she finally left, Clara and I stared at each other.

  “What was that about?” Clara asked me, her eyes wide.

  “I have no idea,” I lied, my heart breaking a little bit more with each heartbeat, “I guess Angelica is just really proud of her new bellybutton piercing.”

  “You don’t think Alexander knows, do you?” Clara’s eyes were wide, “If my dad finds out that I helped you bail Alexander out he’ll be so mad. He says it’s really important to have a good relationship with Mr. Durant.”

  “He can’t know,” I replied, “remember? I paid cash and I checked the little box that said to keep it anonymous. I didn’t put my name anywhere.”

  “Yeah, but maybe he found out somehow.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe he found out.”

  “Even if he did know,” I reasoned, “why would he tell Angelica of all people? He should be grateful, not angry. Telling Angelica is as good as telling your dad. She’d snitch on you in a second, but you didn’t even do anything but drive.”

  “Yeah, but why would he go out on a date with Angelica?”

  I didn’t have a good answer that wouldn’t break my heart. Maybe he liked her. Maybe he just wanted to sleep with her. Maybe both.

  At least Alexander didn’t know that I’d been the one that made Clara steal her sister’s car to drive me to the bail bonds office to bail him out (neither of us had cars). At least he didn’t know that I’d used all of my savings to pay for it. At least he didn’t know how much I wanted him. If he knew I was in love with him, and then he chose Angelica over me, that would be the thing that really hurt.

  He would never know how much I cared about him, so he couldn’t hurt me by not caring back. It was easier this way, and I could go on obsessing about him without fear of discovery. I would keep my secret to myself. Well, not entirely myself. Elena had read my diary, so she knew. And it seemed Angelica knew. Clara didn’t know, although I’m sure she suspected. She’d brought up Alexander a few times and I always denied it.

  But Alexander didn’t know that I loved him. He never would.

  35

  Alexander

  Present day…

  There was blood everywhere. Madison was absolutely covered in hot, sticky, coppery-smelling blood. Frank’s blood. Thank god, it was all Frank’s blood. She was terrified, hysterical, and filthy when she came out of that room, but she was alive.

  “He shot himself,” she finally explained to me after the nightmarish rushing and paramedics and questioning had ebbed and we were momentarily alone. They’d tucked her back in her office and she was getting redressed after a shower since her other clothes were now evidence. Having a locked door between us and the swarming law enforcement personnel felt like an incomparable luxury. “He put the gun in his mouth.”

  The final pieces of the conspiracy were beginning to come together at last. Frank had panicked when he realized there was no chance of giving the Chacóns what they had blackmailed him into giving them. The Chacóns’ final plan was no more than a threat to release evidence of infidelity; it’s incredible how powerful that can be.

  Frank never should have brought the gun into the room, but he did, and when the time came he used it. On himself. The shot had gone straight through both Frank and the window behind him. The sniper, who I’d since met and learned was a very frightening southern woman in her fifties named Darlene, never even had a chance to stop him since the gun was between Frank and her view.

  I watched Madison’s tired face and stayed quiet. This was the first time we’d spoken since I first caught sight of her emerging from the conference room in Salvador’s arms. I honestly had no idea what the right way to help Madison right now was, so I was just listening. Maybe she would tell me what to do to help her. I was happy to do anything she asked.

  “Alexander, I was sure I was going to die at the beginning,” she was whispering. Her hands were trembling, “because Frank was so unbalanced. He was so scared.”

  Even now, even after the man had threatened to shoot her in the face, Madison had empathy for Frank. I swallowed a comment I wanted to make and kept listening. Madison didn’t need to know that I was glad Frank had killed himself because it meant I wouldn’t have to murder him. Sure, it was unfortunate that his infidelity had come back to bite him, but he’d reacted in a way that was almost guaranteed to result in someone’s death. I was just grateful it was Frank and not Madison splattered all over the Clark and Jeffries executive conference room.

  “Alexander,” Madison said, her fresh white blouse unbuttoned and her pinstriped skirt still unzipped, “could you maybe just hold me for a second?”

  That, I could do. I held out my arms to Madison from my spot on her office couch and she folded herself onto my lap with a little whimper of relief. A moment later she relaxed against me. I could feel the exact moment she let her tension go. She melted into me, conforming to my shape with a little sigh. She was still a bit damp, and half naked, but I tried to ignore the need to do anything other than hold her.

  Madison had other ideas. After a few minutes of holding her against my chest, she angled her mouth up to meet mine and kissed me. Her mouth was desperate against my own, and her tongue pushed and teased urgently. I kissed her soft lips gently, running my hands comfortingly down her back like she was made of glass. I still couldn’t believe how close I’d come to losing her. The thought of her with Frank’s gun against her temple still made my heart race. I never wanted to feel half that helpless again in my life.

  Unsatisfied with kissing, Madison shifted in my arms to straddle me and guided both my hands to her chest. My hands trembled against her soft, warm, delicate skin. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and her bra was the kind I liked (mostly just sheer lace), but I knew I should be comforting her in this moment, not groping her. I wanted to give her comfort and make her feel safe, but I was concerned that continuing to make out with her wouldn’t help to calm her down.

  Still, she wriggled against me and kept kissing me with increasing aggressiveness. I was starting to pant when I could get a breath in at all. She pressed suggestively against my growing erection, using her tongue against me like a weapon and making my arousal rise t
o meet hers.

  The last time I’d taken advantage of Madison when she was emotionally overwhelmed she said she regretted having sex with me. And she’d said she hated me. There was no way I’d risk that now. I didn’t want to undue all the progress of the past few days. And I never wanted to see that look of self-loathing she’d had Friday on her face again.

  Madison continued to push me, gyrating against and atop me. She stripped her shirt off and uncoupled her bra with one hand twisted sexily behind her. I touched her body hesitantly, wanting to cover her up as much as anything else. She said she wanted me to hold her. This wasn’t that.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling away from me at last and looking at me with genuine confusion.

  “You’re upset,” I said haltingly, trying to put my fear into words that wouldn’t exacerbate an already fraught situation. “I don’t want to take advantage…”

  She smiled, leaning down to nibble on my earlobe before whispering wickedly, “Fine, I’ll take advantage of you then.” Her soft voice made me shiver.

  She melted gracefully down to the ground in front of me. Topless and gorgeously vulnerable on her knees, Madison fondled her chest in front of me, using both hands and drawing her perfect nipples into hard, little points. I stared at her, transfixed and guilty. Was I supposed to be resisting this? How?

  She leaned forward and unbuttoned my pants using just her mouth and she deftly caught the zipper between her teeth—something I’d never seen someone do before and didn’t realize was even possible. She nuzzled me deeply as she pulled it down, then freed me from my pants and began licking and sucking me greedily. My eyes closed in confusion and guilty pleasure.

  Madison’s mouth was torture. There was nothing I wanted more than to let her continue. There was nothing I wanted more than to make her stop. If I didn’t do something in the next five seconds I wouldn’t have a choice anymore.