I spun on my heels and marched back to the elevator, the music drowning out the sound of my heart turning to dust. Rubbing my chest, feeling the pain leaching from me, I pushed the button and prayed the elevator was quick. I couldn’t be here, knowing what was about to happen. Knowing everything we shared was a lie.
A hand came up to my shoulder just before the elevator door opened. I turned to find Wallace standing there, a look of remorse staring back at me. I shrugged his hand off and stepped into the elevator. The anger and betrayal were cutting deep into my fragile heart and I closed my eyes, remembering who the fuck I was.
Right before the doors closed, I told him, “Let Gideon know I received his message loud and clear. I’ll leave him alone and he leaves me alone and we won’t have a problem. But tell your boss if he ever steps into my club again, I’ll make sure he limps out. You know I’ll do it too.”
There were a few details of what happened all those years ago that the media never got ahold of. Details that had been whispered throughout the underbelly of the city since it happened and with the passing years, had been brushed off as legend or exaggeration. I promise you, this Tennessee girl doesn’t approve of being taken advantage of.
His eyes grew wide and he nodded solemnly as the doors closed. I fought the impending breakdown as the elevator dropped off and picked up passengers. The facade of Mistress Alexandria was falling away, and Alex was nearing a breakdown. Finally arriving on the ground level, I flagged down a cab and was driven away from the Double Down, away from the only man I’ll ever allow myself to love again.
The entire drive, I stared out the window, letting the numbness fall over me. I had been a fool to open my heart to him and now; I knew better. Whores like me don’t get to experience love. All we’re good for is a roll in the sack and a pat on the ass as they leave. I had no idea what changed with him in such a short amount of time and I would have to wonder for the rest of my life why he did what he did.
What he’s about to do.
Fuck! The pain in my gut was tearing me apart and I didn’t want to be alone. I had the cab drop me back off at Perception, needing the comfort my club could give me. It was selfish of me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of going home, seeing the bed he made love to me in empty. Pushing the front door open, the receptionist who was covering for Maggie met me. Her eyes cut to mine and grew wide as I turned and walked down the hallway to my dressing room.
Being here now, I realized it was a mistake. I couldn’t keep the pieces together another moment and I rushed into my private room. I closed the door and fell against it; the tears falling hot and fast as I sobbed into the empty room. The pain of his actions was tearing me apart and I fell sideways on the floor, curling into a tiny ball and purging the years of agony from me. A soft knock sounded into the room, followed by Maggie’s sweet voice. “Alex?”
“Go away.” I croaked out and crawled to the couch across the room, the hard floor digging into my knees.
Pulling myself up, I fell into the couch and doubled over, the agony of his betrayal deeper than anything I had ever felt. A louder knock sounded into the room, followed by a deep voice.
“Alex, open this door right now or I’ll bust the fucking thing down.” He would too, so I moved to unlock the door and meandered back to the couch.
Max and Maggie walked in, both with looks of concern on their face. Max moved in front of me and squatted down, getting eye level with me. He wiped my cheeks with soft touches as the tears kept falling. I hated to be vulnerable with anyone, but Max and Maggie had never judged me.
What had I done wrong?
Was hearing about Michael what pushed him away?
Why was I so unlovable?
Dirty whore. Queer. Slut. Worthless.
My parents’ voices silently screamed in my head and I grabbed my ears, praying it would stop. Max took both my hands into his as Maggie sat next to me, rubbing her hand up and down my back, both waiting for me to regain my composure. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, finding my center.
Letting my watery gaze meet his worried look, I smiled sadly. “He doesn’t want me anymore. I told you. I’m unlovable.” The words came out strangled as I fought to not cry again. My bottom lip trembled, and Max pulled me into his strong arms as the dam of emotions burst again. Maggie placed her head on my back and wrapped her arms around both of us.
I heard whispers behind me but couldn’t understand what they were saying as I cried into my friend’s arms. All too soon, I felt Max pick me up and carry me out the rear door to a waiting car. He slipped in with me on his lap and Maggie promised to come by in the morning to check on me.
Max held me all the way home. Max carried me into the house, got me dressed for bed, taking delicate care of me as he climbed into bed and settled me against him. Holding me in his arms, his thick back leaning against the headboard, I let exhaustion overtake me as Max held me all night.
Chapter Eight
Gideon
My head was pounding, my mouth was as dry as the desert surrounding Las Vegas and tasted like I had licked a dirty ashtray. A steady knocking was coming from the front door of my penthouse, making the pain in my head intensify. Falling off the couch onto the floor, I caught myself on my hands and had immediate pain in my palm. Looking down, I saw a thin piece of glass sticking out of the pad of my thumb. I pulled it out with a hiss and tossed it to the floor. There was a small amount of blood pushing to the surface and I stared at it, confused.
“Open up, Gideon.” Wallace shouted through the door and I stumbled to catch myself as I stood from the floor.
Glancing around the penthouse, I saw shattered glass and roses laying on every surface, the beautiful smell filling the destroyed room. The evening was foggy, and I was struggling to remember the fit of rage that caused this devastation before I passed out. The insistent pounding from Wallace snapped me from the haze I was swimming in as I shuffled carefully through the remains of the flowers and expensive vases.
Opening the door, I’m met with an angry Wallace who shoved a cup of coffee in my hand and pushed me backward into the room. I cradled my injured hand as I turned and walked into the kitchen off to the side. There was little devastation in this room, so I set the coffee down and ran my hand under some water.
Hearing the door shut behind him, I turned as my general manager, my friend, stalked into the room. I wondered if he was about to take a swing at me with the amount of anger coming from him. His fists were clenched by his side, his body was full of tension, and he was red in the face. I had never seen him so mad and I was worried I might not make it out of this room in one piece.
He blew out a breath and moved past me, shoulder checking me as he started a pot of coffee.
“What the hell, Wallace?” My tone was incredulous, and he turned toward me, his eyes meeting mine.
“I should be the one asking you that, you stupid fuck.”
I took a large swallow of the hot coffee he had brought and allowed the caffeine to rush through my muddled brain. I needed to remember what I had done last night and fast. Too much whiskey too quickly resulted in a large chunk of my evening being blank and his anger for whatever happened was directed at me.
Leaning against the cabinet across from him, I reached for a towel to wrap around my bleeding palm. He made no move to help me and I started running through yesterday as he silently watched me with judgmental eyes. I recalled the ribbon cutting, the pictures and interviews, and it was at that moment I remembered the newspaper article. Alex’s betrayal that led to me drinking too much and trashing my penthouse on what should have been the best night of my life.
Bitch.
“Call her a bitch in front of me one more time and I swear I’m going to pop you in your arrogant mouth.”
“She is a bitch. She set me up.” I reasoned and silently sat down, nursing my hot coffee as he poured himself a cup and joined me. He exhaled and I was starting to think there was more to what happened than I read in the article and I
may have fucked up the best thing in my life.
“She set you up? You stalked her for a year, and she set you up? Unfuckingbelievable! You need to tell me what the fuck happened yesterday. One minute you’re eagerly waiting for your girlfriend to arrive and the next minute, you’re a drunken asshole who fucked up royally.”
“What did I do?” Running my hand through my hair, I struggled to pull any memories past sitting at the bar shortly after finding the article, only to draw a complete blank.
“What happened?” he barked, and I jumped back a little.
The pounding in my head was getting worse and the need to throw up was growing with each passing second. I stood from the chair and held up one finger to him as I quickly went to the bathroom and grabbed some headache pills from the medicine cabinet. The sad motherfucker staring back at me, dark bags under his eyes and the same rumbled suit from yesterday was a disgrace to everything I had worked so hard to achieve.
Just as I was about to turn from the bathroom to rejoin Wallace, I noticed there was lipstick on my collar and I briskly walked back to the kitchen. Wallace was filling up the tiny chair, his arms crossed over his toned chest. He shook his head and nodded to the chair. I sat down, an understanding that my sins were about to be laid at my feet.
“You will tell me what changed yesterday. Now.”
Swallowing the pills and finishing the cup, I set it down and absently pushed it back and forth in front of me. I looked up and he was pouring me another cup. I guess I need more caffeine. Shit! What did I do?
“I went to my office after the last interview. I needed a minute to catch my breath and I wanted to grab a fresh dress shirt. I emptied my pockets when I found this.” I reached into my pocket and slid the envelope containing the article to him. “I went to the bar and had a drink, but after the second one, things get dark.”
He took the weathered paper out and opened it. Quickly scanning it, he stuffed it back in the plain envelope and tossed it at my head. The corner hit me on my forehead and the throbbing intensified briefly. I rubbed the small pain and leaned back.
“Did you think to come ask me about this whole thing before you decided to blow up the best thing that will ever happen to you?” I went to speak, and he continued, talking over me and my quickly growing fear. “Of course not. You went off half-cocked like some wet behind the ears little boy and in the process, you lost her. Jesus, did you even ask her about it?”
I shook my head and he sighed loudly, his gaze wandering into the trashed apartment and back to my disheveled appearance. Leaning forward, he met my gaze.
“I’m going to tell you something that isn’t my business, but you need to hear it. She had no part of anything you read in that article. She wasn’t responsible for the senator or anything else that happened. Wrong fucking place, wrong fucking time. The people she worked for took advantage of her and the media dragged her through the mud. Go look for the article now and her name appears nowhere. Rumor has it she sued them and won. You humiliated an innocent woman who fought like hell to build a good name for herself after what they put her through. And you didn’t even trust her enough to talk to her about it.”
He stood from the chair as I jumped up and ran to the trashcan, throwing up and feeling the tears threaten to fall. I hadn’t given her a chance to explain and now I needed to find her. I went to grab my phone and Wallace gripped my arm, halting my movements into the destroyed living room. He took my phone from me and slid it into his pocket.
“Give it back. I need to call her and apologize for getting so drunk last night.”
He shook his head and walked to the front door, opening it and letting in the cleaning crew. They got to work cleaning up the shattered glass and broken roses as Wallace rejoined me in the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, his tight t-shirt pulling over his muscles.
Why had I never realized he was so toned? Probably because he wasn’t threatening to beat your ass before.
“It’s a little more than you drank too much last night. You really don’t remember, do you?” he turned a quizzical look to me.
Shaking my head, I finished the last of the coffee and leaned over the sink, my arms rigid as I asked the question I feared I already knew the answer to.
“I fucked around on her last night, didn’t I?”
His response shocked me. “No, you passed out in the elevator after I threw you into it. Security dragged you into the room and from the looks of it, you redecorated. You made a fool of her last night.”
Turning, I asked, “How?”
“She walked in looking like a million fucking dollars only to find you with your tongue shoved down not one but two women’s throats. All in plain view of the entire dance club. You made a rather raunchy display and rubbed it in her face. She left humiliated and . . .”
“And?” I croaked out, not remembering anything he said. I’ve never blacked out while drinking before and the missing time and my careless actions were killing me.
“She said she received your message. She’ll leave you alone and you’re to leave her alone.”
I fell against the counter and he sadly continued, “She got eaten alive all those years ago and last night, you threw her away. All because of your selfish ego. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” He shook his head and a moment later, I heard him and the cleaning crew exit my penthouse.
I walked into the immaculate room, not a sign of the devastation I was feeling. Looking for my phone, I realized Wallace had plugged it into the charger before he left me alone. I picked it up and tried to call Alex’s phone only to have it go straight to voicemail. I left her a message, begging her to let me explain, to let me apologize before I sent a text to her saying the same thing. The text showed undelivered and I tossed it across the room, hearing the screen crack as it hit the wall.
Quickly taking a shower and brushing my teeth, I called down to have my car brought up from valet and requested a large coffee to go from the café in the lobby. Picking my coffee up, I jumped into my car and made little time driving through the early Sunday morning traffic. Pulling into her neighborhood, I tried to use my gate pass, only to find she had revoked my privileges.
I tried to reason with the guard, “You know me. I just wanted to surprise her with a hot coffee.” I held the now empty cup up, hoping he would take mercy on me.
“She specifically called this morning and cancelled your pass. I’m sorry, Mr. Mathews. There’s nothing I can do.” He tipped his hat and returned to the air-conditioned guard shack that was keeping me from Alex.
I returned to the Double Down and sent someone to replace my phone. I tried all day and into the evening to contact her, but she wasn’t responding.
For three weeks, I tried to call and text her, but she had gone radio silent. No Instagram posts, no Twitter updates, and her phone never rang. I knew I fucked up, but she wasn’t even giving me a chance to say I was sorry. A few times I had sat outside Perception, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She never appeared and I was getting worried.
Finally, one afternoon almost six weeks after my epic fuck-up, I saw a huge man that reminded me of a Viking walking out of the club. I had seen him off and on over the last few weeks when I drove by and I decided to ask him about her. I was desperate and if he was inside during the daytime, maybe he knew where she was.
I jogged across the street from my parked car and called out to him just before he entered the coffee shop next door. He turned and brought his meaty hand up to his face, blocking the sun from his eyes. In an instant, he dropped his hand and took a step toward me. I stopped in my tracks and stood my ground, willing to fight this massive man for information.
“You don’t know me but I’m looking for Alex.”
He stepped closer to me and instinctively, I stepped back. The dominance, the sheer anger rolling off him told me he knew who I was already. Swallowing deeply, prepared to take a fist to the face, I held my ground.
“Go home, Gideon. She’s no longer your busi
ness.” He smirked at me and I felt the anger growing. Who the fuck did he think he was, acting like Alex was his when she belonged to me?
I just needed to remind her.
“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, clenching my fists at my side.
The Viking laughed at me. Taking one step toward me, he looked down at me and spoke, a deep timbre in his voice. “I’m the man that picked that beautiful woman off the floor after you threw her away. I’m the man who fought to get her to eat when all she wanted to do was cry. Over you!” he shouted, poking me in the chest hard. A few people turned toward us, but they quickly moved past when they saw how mad he was. “I’m the man who wants to kick your ass around your head, but I promised her I wouldn’t touch you. So once again. Go. Home. Gideon.”
He turned and I grasped his large shoulder, spinning him around to face me. “You don’t get to dismiss me. I’ve tried everything I can think of and she keeps ignoring me. I deserve a chance to apologize.”
He reached into his pocket and took out his phone, holding it up to me, he remarked. “Go ahead. I’m recording. You can tell her how sorry you are. Then go the fuck away.”
I looked at the camera and back at him, my mouth opened in outrage. He placed it back into his pocket and he leaned in. “You can stop stalking the club. She’s not here.”
He turned to enter the coffee shop and just as he went to open the door, I asked. “Where . . . where is she?”
He sadly shook his head and responded. “She went back home.”
“Is she coming back?” I asked, the pain of her absence growing larger knowing she ran away from me.
He shrugged his shoulders and entered the shop, leaving me alone on the sidewalk, afraid I would never see her again. I looked up at her club and heard the construction going on inside. There was a new sign hanging, but they covered the name with heavy tarps and ropes. I felt the pit in my gut grow with each step back to my car. Casting one last glance to Perception, I drove away, praying fate gave me another chance with Alex.
Call My Bluff: A Las Vegas Themed Anthology Page 40