There’s no way around it. She needs to hear this. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ella. I was trained, that much should be obvious.”
“At Lucius’ request?”
“Yes. You have to understand, for a long time he considered me his heir. Maybe he still does, it’s hard to tell what his sick head dictates to him. But I’m not going to lie, there was a time I even liked this shit. I liked the feeling of power a gun could provide. I trained obsessively. I even became the best sharpshooter in the organization.”
“You mean like a sniper?” she says in disbelief. Her innocence breaks my heart sometimes.
“Not quite. I mean, I didn’t shoot people from rooftops. It was all on a training field.”
“Did you ever shoot anyone?” she says. I can see her fearing the answer.
“I swear, Ella, it wasn’t like that. I could never hurt anyone unless I was trying to defend myself or someone I love.”
“Good,” she says and tries to give me a real smile. I don’t deserve her forgiveness.
“It wasn’t until someone I was training with got killed that I realized I wanted nothing of that world.”
Her smile widens. “Where does this all end? Are we going to be like Bonnie and Clyde, living on the run?” she says. Her fingers move up and down my back, patting me down.
“There’s nothing glamorous about that life,” I say. “It always ends the same way. Even in the movies.”
It’s only when she looks at me triumphantly that I realize that the words were a cover-up for what her hands were doing.
“Ha!” she says, pulling my gun from the holster on my side underneath my jacket. “I was wondering why that jacket stayed on all night. How did you conceal this from me?”
I take the gun from her, double checking to make sure it’s secure. “Piece of cake for a trained assassin,” I say teasingly.
“You know, I don’t think you’re joking,” she says. “Please, baby, don’t misunderstand me. I trust you in an absolute way, but not the words you say. The shock froze my heart when I saw those guns coming out in that Shadow Room. I don’t know, Jaxson, I guess I’m not as tough as I thought. I was scared to death.”
I take her in my arms, resting my chin on top of her head. “Any decent person would have reacted that way. I should have never let you talk me into bringing you to the club.”
She considers my words for a while. “Jax, I think it’s time we distanced ourselves from the investigation. I know I’ve been very passionate about it but tonight my eyes were opened. I’m not cut out for this kind of violence. Let the police do their job and we’ll do ours. Well, I don’t have a job right now but you know what I mean.”
She actually wants out. I see my chance and take it. This might be the answer to my prayers. “Why don’t we take a trip together? Get away from it all for a while?”
I find her lips, my tongue circling hers softly. She kisses me back and I can feel her heart pound quickly under her dress. I love her vulnerability to my touch, the way she’s always willing to open up for me.
“We might do just that,” she says, leading me by the hand to Nate’s worn out-couch.
“Where would you like to go?” I say, helping her out of her dress. Her full, round breasts taunt me with their perfect firmness. Her tiny panties invite me to explore with my fingers.
“I don’t know,” she says. “San Francisco?”
“Think big, baby,” I say as I take a nipple into my mouth.
“How big?” she says.
“So big,” I say and then suck on her nipple hungrily, pulling the soft skin until it puckers and shivers.
“Canada?”
“Think warmer.”
“Oh, you want it hot, do you? Like Hawaii.”
I take one breast in my palm, warm and bouncy, the way I like it. “I was thinking we really get away. Maybe Europe.”
“Europe? Cool. I’ve never been to Europe.”
“It’s settled.” My tongue gets busy with the other nipple.
“How about Paris?” she says. “I’d love to see Paris.”
“Paris it is.”
“That’s great except I’m broke.”
“Not a problem.”
“I don’t want to be a kept woman.”
“Too bad. I’m keeping you. I’m locking away the key.”
“I’m serious,” she says.
“I know,” I say. “We’ll call it a loan.”
“That I won’t be able to pay back for like ten years.”
I look up at her, making a frustrated face. “You’re thinking of money? Are you not aroused? Not even a little?”
“I’m not answering that. I’m not just your sex toy,” she says with a grin.
“Oh, okay. Maybe your nipples don’t want my lips. Maybe I’m losing my touch.”
“You’re not,” she says, laughing. “I figured, if I waited a little, that mouth would move south anyway.”
“You’re becoming spoiled. Do you want me to continue?”
“Stop and I’ll get your gun,” she says.
Later, when she falls asleep in my arms, I exhale hard like I had been holding the same breath in all night. This all seems like it might work out. My beautiful girl and I could walk off into the sunset and start living simple and real for the first time.
We could be happy, yet something begins gnawing deep inside me. This quiet night is full of a thousand fears.
—twelve—
Ella
The phone rings right as I turn onto my side. Panic runs through me, telling me I’m late for work on a Monday morning, but then I’m instantly reminded I don’t have a job. I honestly don’t know which feeling is worse.
I pick up the phone, lazily, still sleepy and grouchy after having had only a few hours of sleep. I think I might have stayed awake in Jax’s bed for hours, listening to every creaking sound and noise in the condo, unable to fall asleep until early morning.
“Hey, babe,” Jax says. “It’s done. I’m a free man.”
“The charges were dropped?” I say, feeling like I can finally put down the ton of bricks I’ve been carrying for days.
“Yep, all of them. Start packing.”
“Paris, here we come,” I say, joy and relief filling my chest.
“I love you, see you in a bit.”
“Love you more,” I say, before I hang up.
I go to the kitchen to make myself a much needed cup of coffee before I hit the shower. The vicious circle that began the morning I found out Madison was dead, can finally come to an end. I’ve come to terms with the fact I might never find out who was the actual person that went to her apartment that tragic night and took her life.
Jaxson’s uncle, Lucius, has given us the bigger picture and neither Jaxson, nor me, not even Lucius himself, can take it upon ourselves to bring the Bronson family to justice. I wish there was a way but there’s not. You don’t mess with these people. I understand that now.
Our trip to Paris will be bittersweet, especially knowing Madison had visited many times as a fashion model, but it will also be the beginning of my new life with Jax. I have to get used to that. It’s the only good thing that came out of my short stint at the Daily Scandal.
When Jaxson comes home, he lifts me up and won’t put me down even after I beg him to.
“I’m totally capable of using my feet,” I tell him, but the truth is I wouldn’t change his crazy affection for the world.
“Did you pack yet?” he says as he sets me down finally with a kiss.
Seriously? He wants me to start packing right away? “We don’t even have tickets yet,” I tease him.
“Oh, yes we do,” he tells me, producing the evidence from his back pocket.
I take the tickets in my hands, studying them. “Jax, these are for tomorrow,” I screech.
“Do you have anything better to do?”
God, I’ll smack his gorgeous face till he begs for mercy. “Yes, actually, I’d like to do my hair and my nails and b
uy some clothes and visit with my mom, hello!”
“Your mom can visit us in Paris,” he says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I like your mom. Will you tell her I’m Jack?”
“Of course, I will,” I say, punching his shoulder lightly.
“Do you think she’ll like me?”
“No, but you’ll grow on her.”
He takes his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. My eyes focus on the engraved name on his chest. So fucking awesome. Never thought I could get wet for a tat.
“I’m going to hit the shower,” he says. “Today’s your lucky day. I’m taking you to Olive Garden for dinner.”
“Screw, Spago. Olive Garden rocks,” I yell as he runs up the stairs. Today could very well be the first day of the rest of our lives.
*
When we step out of the restaurant, Jax takes my hand in his. I love how he needs to hold me all the time. The evening is cool and the little shopping center is empty except for a family of four rushing to get to the movie theater across the street.
“Do you want to walk a little?” I ask him, squeezing his hand. We need to start doing more simple, regular things.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, looking at me with hungry eyes. “I never knew how good walking after dinner could be until I met you.”
Sometimes I worry that if I close my eyes, it will all be gone when I open them. But here we are, strolling around the shopping center hand in hand, only hours before we leave for Paris in the morning.
“Jaxson Cole?” Female voices from every direction start screaming out his name, startling me. It’s like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Eight or nine college girls have spotted us and are moving in fast.
They circle Jaxson like he’s the only man left on Earth and they are hungry nymphomaniacs ready to repopulate the planet.
“My God,” one of them says, her mouth turning into an O of complete bewilderment. “Is that really you?”
“Guilty,” Jax says, taking on an expression I’ve never seen before, an expression of complacency that he’s cultivated for his public persona and his fans. It’s odd to me that he looks pleased somehow.
The girls start talking at the same time and I’m left staring, unsure as to what I should do while they throw every slutty flirt move in the book at my boyfriend. They pull up skirts and pull down blouses wanting their flesh signed. Where’s that gun when I need it?
Jax humors them with a sexy grin on his face and I begin to get mad, especially when one of the girls shoves me aside like I’m a nuisance.
“What the hell,” I manage to say before a hand grabs me from behind, blocking my mouth. I twist my body instinctively to free myself when another hand grabs me and then another. I desperately try to catch Jax’s attention but it’s pointless. Handcuffs are placed around my wrists, a vicious hand keeping my mouth shut.
I can’t move, I can’t talk and he’s surrounded by a swarm of horny girls that have their hands all over him, blocking his view.
The last thing I see before I’m shoved into the back of a car is his smiling face as he puts his signature on a blonde girl’s thigh.
Panicked, hyperventilating, scared to even have thoughts, I’m driven away. Blood rushes to my head. Suddenly, I’m suffocating.
The car stops only a few blocks away, unless I’ve completely lost track of time, and my two captors take me down a dark alley to a sort of semi-covered playground.
There are no lights in the playground, so when a third figure approaches, I can’t really tell if it’s a man or a woman, old or young, human or alien.
“Uncuff her,” the figure commands and now at least I know the voice belongs to a man.
I’m shaking badly. I can hardly stand on my feet. My fear and uncertainty could threaten to make me pass out.
“Don’t be afraid, Ella,” the voice says. “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to warn you.”
“Warn me?” I repeat, unable to understand, rubbing my wrists where the cuffs were.
“Forgive the theatrics,” the man says as he steps out of the shadows to get near me. “I’m afraid we’re both watched and have to be creative to avoid constant scrutiny.”
“Who are you?” I say as I get a bit bolder. “What do you want?”
“Somebody has to tell you and the fools you have around you won’t do it. Your life is in danger. Someone wants you dead.”
I rub my temples, totally confused. “I don’t understand. Who wants me dead? Why? Who are you?”
“The same people who killed Madison.”
I can almost hear the wheels in my brain turning. The Bronsons want me dead as well and this strange man wants to warn me? It makes no fucking sense.
“I don’t believe you,” I say, mostly so I can hear the words myself.
“Listen to me,” the man says, taking my hand. “You have to be careful. You won’t be safe in Paris.”
He brings his face next to mine, making my skin crawl. Yet, there’s something tender about the way he holds my hand.
“Get the hell away from her.”
Jaxson appears like a superhero with two long strides, pushing the man away. “Carter?” he says, as he takes a closer look at his face.
My blood goes cold and my cheeks burn up. My head starts buzzing and I reach out for Jax’s hand. He takes it, reassuring me he’s here.
I look into the strange man’s eyes. My own eyes have adjusted to the darkness and I can make out his face as it glimmers in the pale moonlight.
I let go of Jax’s hand to take a step closer.
My dry lips part and I study both sides of the man’s anxious face. I swallow hard and then say the word. “Father?”
SCANDAL
Part three
—one—
Ella
Dark clouds obscure the sinking moonlight, distorting reality even more. Spit gets stuck in my throat, causing me to cough.
This can’t be happening. No fucking way.
I shut my eyes to absorb the shock of the new revelation and avoid the look of guilt on my abductor’s face.
“It’s me,” he says now, which could mean a number of things. It’s me, the man who had you kidnapped while your boyfriend was getting busy with a bunch of frenzied co-eds. Or, it’s me, Carter Someone who happens to be acquainted with Jaxson Cole but not the Carter you think.
Or, it’s me, Carter Wade, the father that abandoned you years ago when you were still only a child.
The man snaps his fingers and just like that the lights in the playground turn back on. Our eyes meet, turning suspicion into certainty. It’s him. He’s barely changed in the fourteen missing years.
This can’t be true, I tell myself.
“Ella, I’m your father,” he says as coldly as Darth Vader. His black suit and dark hair add to the effect.
I suddenly remember his hazel eyes. He defies his age except for the barely there hint of salt in the pepper. He would be fifty-one now I calculate.
What is this specter that has returned to me from the shadows?
I linger in this painfully comic Darth Vader abstraction. Humor has always been my preferred place to hide.
Jax pulls me out of my daze, clutching my body into his strong arms.
“You don’t owe him anything,” Jax says. “You don’t have to listen to anything he says.”
I study Jax’s face. The protective concern in his expression makes it all the more painful for me to come to terms with the truth.
“I know,” I tell him, “but I want to hear this, even if it is bullshit.”
Jax turns to the man he called Carter only moments ago. It suddenly hits me that Jax has known my father was alive the whole time. Not only that, he also actually knows him. They know each other. I’m stunned.
“Haven’t you done enough?” Jax says angrily.
“You’re asking me that?” the man says. “That’s fucking rich. I’ve waited patiently for Lucius and you and even that little prick Brad to do the right thing but I�
��ll be damned if I let you play with my daughter’s life anymore.”
He said the word. Daughter. That would be me, the daughter he left.
“You both need to stop,” I say. “Just stop.” I turn to Carter. “What did you mean my life’s in danger?”
Was he expecting a hug? Forgive me if I’m having a hard time viewing him as my father. His rugged, puppy dog eyes have no effect on me.
“Your stepsister was murdered,” he says finally.
Yeah, genius, I know this much. The whole world knows this much.
He looks away for a beat and then back at me. “It should have been you.”
The air catches in my throat. Every part of his face seems to swell in my mind like a grotesque painting.
“Carter, come on,” Jaxson says. “This is hardly the time and place.”
“They came for you,” dear old Dad continues. “They thought—”
I shake my head. “What are you saying?” I ask, pissed off that tears are beginning to gather. “This is the urgent message, the thing you want to say to me after fourteen fucking years?” My limbs shiver. The whole world squeezes into a cruel perversion and chokes my lungs and heart. Only adrenaline keeps me from collapsing.
“Why don’t you tell her the whole story, Carter?” Jaxson glares at Carter with an animosity that alarms me even further.
“It’s my fault,” Carter says without hesitation, staring straight into my eyes, face cold as death.
I swallow hard, feeling sorry I asked, sorry I got to find out my father is alive and well, sorry to have been such a fool.
Carter turns to Jaxson. “How much have you told her?”
“I’m right here,” I say, not sure why anything so trivial should offend me right now. “If you have questions about me, ask me.”
“She knows everything,” Jaxson cuts in, ignoring my protest. “Except for the part where you’re you and you’ve done what you’ve done.”
A vein goes pulsing like crazy on Carter’s left temple. For a moment I think he will attack Jax but he quickly composes himself as he turns to me. “Ella, they went after Madison because they thought she was my daughter. The papers have made it clear that she was not. These men, they’re bad beyond anything you could imagine. They will go after anyone I care about and quite frankly you’re the only one left.”
Scandal: The Complete Series Page 16
