Wicked White

by Michelle A. Valentine

  I stare up at Ace’s conflicted face and press my lips to his. “Go.”

  His brow furrows as he stands over me. “Iris, I can’t leave you.”

  “If you don’t go now, things are going to get so much worse for you. You have to get out of here and let me handle this. You have to go before . . .” I find myself getting choked up as I implore the man I desperately love to leave me. “Just, please, Ace. Go.”

  “Iris . . . I won’t—”

  “Go!” I shout again.

  He shakes his head. “No! Not without you.”

  “Get out of here!” I can see now that he’s not going to listen to me, so I stand up and shove my hands into his chest as hard as I can. “Leave!”

  He furrows his brow. “Why are you doing this? Don’t push me away.”

  It’s in that moment I do something I instantly wish I can take back. I lie. I lie to protect him in the only way I know that will convince him to leave me.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath to harden my face before redirecting my gaze on him. “I’m not going with you, Ace. I don’t even really know you.”

  Hurt etches into his beautiful features, and it pains me to know that I’m causing him pain, but I know I need to do this for his own good.

  “But you promised,” he whispers.

  “How can I ever trust that you won’t lash out at me? You’ve obviously got issues. I can’t give up my life for someone that I don’t trust not to take their anger out on me someday.” Tears run down my cheeks as I know the words I’m telling him are cutting like a knife, but it’s the only way I know that will make him leave—that will ultimately keep him safe for now. I can’t bear the thought of him being hauled out of here in handcuffs.

  “Iris . . . this looks bad, I know, but I would never . . .” He swallows and closes his eyes like it hurts too much to even look at me. “I would never hurt you.”

  I take a deep breath, fighting back the urge to break down and say to hell with everything and run away with him anyway. I don’t want to hurt him, but what choice do I have?

  I square my shoulders and stare into his eyes. “I don’t want to be with you.”

  He pauses for a beat and tears run down his face. “This changes things,” he whispers. “If you don’t want me, I’ll go. I’ll leave you like you’re asking, but just remember, you did this. You tore us apart. I never wanted to be without you, and I would take my own life before I laid a finger on you. I don’t know how you would believe I would do anything to you other than give you the world.”

  I choke back a sob and force a stern face, fearing if he doesn’t go soon, I won’t be able to pretend like this isn’t absolutely gutting me. “Go!”

  Ace doesn’t immediately run off like I expect. Instead he leans in and kisses my forehead and murmurs, “I’ll love you forever.”

  Then he turns his back to me and runs out the door, not giving me a chance to break down and beg him to stay.

  The engine of his bike roars to life moments later, and I close my eyes, knowing that the man I love has just ridden out of my life as quickly as he came into it.

  I collapse onto the floor, tears streaming freely as the realization hits me that I might not ever see Ace again after this. I don’t want this to be the end of us. One day, I’ll have to find him and explain—beg for his forgiveness for the hurtful lies I told him in order to keep him safe.

  When the cops show up I’m curled into a ball, sobbing, next to a still-breathing but unconscious Jeremy. I didn’t have the strength to move as my heart shattered into a million pieces.

  “Miss? Miss, are you hurt?” I blink slowly a few times and then turn my gaze up at the young, dark-haired police officer leaning over me. “Can you tell me who did this to you?”

  “Easy there,” he says as I push myself up onto my elbow, and the officer places his hands on my shoulders, like I’m a broken flower.

  “Tell me, miss, who did this, so we can go after them,” he says again, but I shake my head, causing him to furrow his brow. “You don’t know who did it?”

  Jeremy’s groan behind me pulls my attention to where the paramedics have somehow revived him and are busying themselves with checking him over.

  “Where is that fucker?” Jeremy mumbles, and I cringe, knowing immediately that he obviously didn’t get hit hard enough to forget that Ace was here.

  The cop turns his attention away from me to Jeremy. “Who did this to you, sir?”

  “That asshole, Ace. He lives in the trailer next to the office. He broke in here and attacked me.”

  The cop writes down some information on a notepad. “Do you know his last name?”

  “Fuck no,” Jeremy mutters as the medic helps him sit up before cleaning the lacerations above his eye.

  I let out a breath slowly, relieved that at least he doesn’t know Ace’s last name, and just as I think we’re in the clear of Ace getting out of this situation without being named, Jeremy’s green eyes lock on mine and his face contorts in anger.

  He points his long, slender finger in my direction. “Ask her his last name. She’s fucking him.”

  I gasp just as every pair of eyes snaps onto me.

  Oh. Shit.

  The young cop who was once so concerned about me now stares at me through narrowed eyes. “Miss, I’m going to need you to come with me. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  I reluctantly nod and push myself to my feet and follow the cop out Jeremy’s door. Suddenly it hits me that the best defense is a good offense. I need to try to make this police officer understand that Ace isn’t the monster that Jeremy’s bruised-up face makes him out to be.

  Once we are by the car, the officer turns to me. “I’m Officer Rugger. Your name?”

  “Iris Easton.”

  He writes that down. “Tell me what happened here exactly.”

  I swallow hard. “It started a couple of months ago . . .”

  I go into great detail about how Jeremy got rough with me a couple of months ago and Ace stepped in to defend me. The officer takes diligent notes of my account as I go on to tell him about Jeremy’s taunting last night and how we discovered my place ransacked this morning.

  Officer Rugger raises his eyebrows as he stares down at me. “I’ll need to see your place and question Jeremy about his involvement in the burglary in question. It’s imperative that I locate Ace. I’ll need to confirm your story, and it’s likely that Jeremy Winkler is going to press charges.”

  “I . . . um . . .” I hesitate, not wanting to give any information on Ace but knowing that it’s not going to be possible if the cop keeps pressing me.

  “His name, Ms. Easton.” The irritated tone in the cop’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed by me.

  I don’t like being forced to reveal Ace’s last name. Even though that’s not public information, it’s still not a good idea for me divulge anything that can be traced back to him, but since Johnson isn’t what the public knows him as, it might not stir up any trouble.

  I stare up at the young Officer Rugger and sigh. “It’s Ace Johnson.”

  He stops writing. “He’s not by chance the same Ace Johnson who’s also known as Ace White, is he? The press wasn’t privy to the star’s real name, but it was told confidentially to the officers in Columbus and surrounding areas.”

  I raise my brow. I thought no one knew his name. Ace has no clue about this, I’m sure. He needs to know. As soon as all these people clear out, I’ll call him and let him know, even though I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to talk to, considering what I just said to him.

  I debate lying to the cop if it would give Ace more time to get away, but ultimately decide against it because I don’t want to end up in jail for not complying with the law.

  I nod and Officer Rugger’s mouth drops open while his eyes grow wide and he reaches for the radio on his shoulder, clicking the button to call in to the police station. “Base, do you copy? This is Rugger. I have a possible sighting of the missing person Ace Joh
nson, aka Ace White.”

  There’s silence on the radio, and then the female dispatcher confirms the information that Officer Rugger just gave her.

  The officer surveys the trailer park and then returns his gaze to me. “This is a pretty good place to hide out—no cable. No Internet. He couldn’t have picked a place more back in time on modernization. No wonder he came here.” He shakes his head before refocusing on me. “Ready to show me your place?”

  I spend the next few hours going over again the story of how I met Ace and what occurred last night, leading to the fight today. Somehow the news of Ace being here leaks to the press and reporters swarm the trailer park almost immediately.

  After the cops leave, the reporters stay put, surrounding my place and Ace’s, yelling my name and asking questions every time I open the front door. I pace back and forth inside my trailer, scared out of my mind that I’ve just managed to make things much worse for Ace by verifying his last known residence. This is exactly what he was afraid would happen.

  I stare out my kitchen window and laugh when I see one of the reporters knock on Adele’s door only to get beaten when a broom-wielding Adele answers, shooing them off her property. She’s obviously not talking.

  Wish I could say the same about all the other neighbors.

  Reporters line the gravel street that stretches down the middle of the trailer park, separating the trailers into two neat rows. All of the camera crews flood into the road, talking to any residents in the park willing to dish out a little dirt.

  A persistent knock on my front door catches my attention, and I do my best to ignore it, but this person refuses to give up.

  Angry with the way they keep trying to intrude into my personal life, I rush over to the door and yank it open. “What?”

  “Jesus, Iris. Chill.” Birdie holds her hands up.

  I reach out, grab her jacket, and yank her inside. “Get in here.”

  I slam the door behind her and then lean against it, closing my eyes, wishing this nightmare was over and life would return to the way it was a couple of weeks ago. Before all this madness came down on us—back when Ace was blissfully hiding from the rest of the world here with me.

  It hits me then that this is the madness that Ace was trying so hard to protect me from. He knew this was going to be bad. He knew it would be just like this.

  “What the hell happened here?” Birdie asks, glancing around my trashed trailer. “Were you robbed?”

  I nod. “Ace thinks Jeremy did it.”

  Birdie raises her hand to her face. “Oh. My. God. Did Ace kill Jeremy? Is that why all the reporters are here?”

  I roll my eyes. “No, but he did beat him up pretty good. They hauled Jeremy off in an ambulance, but he seemed fine, if you ask me. He went out of his place cussing up a storm, yelling to anyone who would listen that he was going to sue Ace’s ass.”

  She furrows her brow. “That’s it? Why all the reporters then for a fight?”

  I sigh. “I might as well tell you now. The secret’s out.”

  “What secret?” She tilts her head, making her blond hair fall to one side.

  “Ace . . . he’s . . . well . . . you know that missing rock star the world seems to be searching for?”

  “Yeah . . . Iris, I’m confused.”

  “Ace is the missing rock star,” I blurt out.

  Her dark brown eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me that Ace is Ace White of Wicked White?” I nod and Birdie squeals. “Are you sure? How long have you known?”

  “Whoa.” I laugh. “Slow down.”

  “I can’t help it,” she retorts excitedly. “It’s not every day that your best friend dates a rock star who’s been in hiding from the entire world in her trailer. I mean, it sucks that all the reporters are here, but it’s an amazing situation.”

  So we sit down at my kitchen table and I tell her . . . everything. It feels good to finally be able to tell someone just how much I love Ace and what he means to me. I would like to believe that this will be just a small road bump for us, but honestly, after how I just treated him, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ace hates me.

  I know lying about not trusting him enough to leave with him had hurt him, but I did it to save him from this chaos, since he wasn’t ready to be found yet.

  “That day at Angel’s—with Melody—she’s the anonymous tipster, isn’t she?” Birdie asks.

  I nod. “Yeah. I’m almost positive it was her.”

  “Do you think she did it because she wanted the reward money?”

  “What reason would she have other than that?” I ask. “She really didn’t stand to gain anything else.”

  “That’s fucked up,” she says, and then she pauses for a beat. “Besides all that . . . how was the sex with Ace?” A fierce blush floods my cheeks, causing her to giggle. “That good, huh?”

  I nod. “It was . . . gah! Amazing. I mean, he’s so romantic, and he actually loves to quote Shakespeare.”

  My mind drifts off to what the good times with Ace were like. A weight settles over my heart and presses down at the thought that I may never have those with him again.

  Birdie rests her chin in her hand as she stares at me with a huge grin on her face. “He actually quotes Shakespeare?” I blush and nod. “Wow. He’s like the perfect man for you, Iris. He’s all artsy and deep and shit. Kind of makes me feel bad for believing he was some outlaw serial killer.” She sighs and there’s an odd flicker of sadness in her eyes. “What are you two going to do now?”

  I lean back in my chair. “I hurt him bad, Birdie. He’s not going to forgive me easily. And to make matters worse, I have no clue where he is or how to even start looking for him. I don’t know if I’m ever going to get the chance to apologize.”

  Birdie stretches her arm across the table and takes my hand. “When things cool down, he’ll come back for you. He’ll come to his senses eventually and realize that you said what you did to save him.”

  I give her hand a squeeze. “I hope so.”

  CELEBRITY POP BUZZ NIGHTLY

  A panoramic view of Willow Acres Mobile Home Community shows all the dilapidated trailers set in two neat rows with a gravel road separating them before the camera focuses on its star reporter. Her blond hair shifts in the slight breeze as she smiles and gazes directly into the lens.

  “Good evening, America. This is Linda Bronson coming to you live from the sleepy little town of Sarahsville, Ohio, where this small community has just been rocked with the revelation that they’ve had a celebrity hiding out among them for months. That’s right, we’ve confirmed that Ace Johnson, also known as Ace White, has been living in this run-down trailer for the past three months, mixing among the locals and even working as a handyman. It’s unknown why Ace picked this location, but one thing is clear, he did not want to be found.

  “The police tracked Ace to this trailer park after a nine-one-one call came into the local authorities here reporting a disturbance at the residence across the street, owned by one Jeremy Winkler. There appears to have been an altercation between Mr. Winkler and Ace White, who fled the scene before the police arrived. Allegedly, Mr. White has been involved in a romantic affair with the owner of this mobile home community, Iris Easton”—the screen flips to video of Iris walking to her trailer, attempting to block her face from the camera, and repeating no comment—“but so far Ms. Easton has refused to issue an official statement about her relationship with Ace White.

  “Wicked White’s tour manager, Jane Ann Rogers, did tell us that she’s ecstatic that there has been an update in Mr. White’s disappearance and wants to implore Ace to reach out to her, allowing her to help him with whatever struggle he’s going through.

  “As always, when we discover any additional information, we will bring it to you live. For Celebrity Pop Buzz Nightly, I’m Linda Bronson.”

  ACE

  Staring at the four walls of my hotel room is beginning to drive me mad. I can’t turn on the television without seeing my face plaste
red all over the news. I knew once they got wind of where I’d been hiding and who I was with, it would turn into a circus. Jane Ann is probably reveling in all the press my situation is creating for the band. She likes anything that makes money.

  Iris’s face has also been plastered everywhere, and I feel guilty about that. I didn’t want her relationship with me to cause problems for her career, and I’m afraid there’s no going back now. It seems that she’s quickly becoming a household name, seeing as she’s the last known link to me.

  God. I fucking miss her like crazy.

  I can’t believe she would even entertain the idea that I could ever hurt her. I love her. I would rather rip my own soul out and hand it over to Satan himself before I caused her one ounce of pain. I’ve thought about going back so many times to make her understand that, but I know that I can’t just waltz back into her trailer and force her to be with me.

  The truth is, Iris’s words really hit home. I do have a temper problem. It’s something that’s plagued me my entire life. When it comes to protecting someone I care about, I lose all rationality, and that sometimes makes me look like an unstable individual. I’m getting better controlling myself, but I’m still a work in progress, so I understand why she’s scared of me. She has every right to feel that way after the way I ripped into Jeremy and the guy that pawed her at the bar—the one she had no clue about, thank God. That wouldn’t have helped my case any.

  Iris has called my cell a few times, but I can’t bring myself to talk to her. I can’t bear the thought of hearing her apologize for rejecting me and then maintain her stand of not wanting me. It would crush me even more, and I may not be able to recover from knowing for a fact that I’ll never have another shot with her.

  She said it point-blank that she doesn’t trust me. That’s pretty hard to misinterpret. Her words about not wanting me anymore fucking stung and sent me into a dark depression.

  I’ve spent the last three weeks in this hotel debating what my next move should be, because honestly, I just haven’t had the will or drive to go on. My story is the hot topic of conversation. Everyone seems to be looking for me now that it’s been confirmed that I’m alive and well, just hiding. Hell, it makes me paranoid to leave this room for very long for fear of being discovered, but it’s obvious that I can’t run forever. Sooner or later I’m going to have to deal with things.