by W. Winters
“Given how easily you two are talking about this—”
“Yeah. We’ve talked about it behind your back, but only because we love you and we’re mad on your behalf. It’s not in the tabloids; cross my heart.”
“Kam did his job there,” Kelly chimes in.
“You should have your fucking phone is all we’re saying.” Trish’s statement is final. “And I’ve told Kam exactly how I feel about it.”
“It wasn’t just your phone. It was access to support you had all of your life. They snatched it away. What the fuck did they think would happen?” Kelly’s eyes brim with unshed tears and it doesn’t go unnoticed that everyone is speaking in whispers now.
“We need chocolate.”
“Could we?” Trish says while waving down the waitress, motioning to our drinks.
They’re quiet, and in that moment, I remember that night, like it happened just yesterday.
“If she can’t stop going off, what else is there to do?”
She wants me to keep asking them for space. Just ask for space, as if they would listen.
Kam’s spoken up for me, but he’s nervous. He hasn’t been this nervous since… well since everything with my father. “You don’t know her. She doesn’t want space.”
It’s like I’m a child again, scolded, scared, and watching them fight through a cracked door. I can’t even bring myself to move to the bed. Instead I stay on the floor, staring at my hands that won’t stop shaking.
“You’re supposed to fix this!”
“She can’t do what she’s told,” Cynthia says and she doesn’t bother to hide her irritation. “She’s not supposed to comment.”
“They shouldn’t be there for her to comment on.”
“Kam, I just need it back.” My fingers are still shaking. I call out from my bedroom, not leaving where I am. “Kelly just messaged and she said—”
“Okay baby, but not right now.” He brushes me off … like a child. Like I’m something that can be handled.
I stress, “Kam, I want to look at his picture again and—”
He cuts me off, not even listening. “I just need a moment.”
We practically speak over one another as I plead for it back. “I won’t comment. I swear. It’s just they tagged me. They keep posting it and tagging me and I—”
“We’re going to fix it.” He tries to shush me.
“Kam! It’s my fucking phone.” My voice is raw and it hurts. It hurts from crying, from screaming.
“I’m trying to protect you, Ella,” he says, emphasizing each word, his face pained.
Gripping onto his hands, where he’s holding my phone hostage, I try to pry his fingers away. “Give it to me.”
“No!” Kam’s wide eyes look down at me as I fall to the floor, both palms hitting the wood with a loud thud. “Kamden,” I cry out, feeling so fucking alone.
“Jesus Christ,” Cynthia chides in the background. “Give her another Xanax and take her fucking phone away.”
I feel so fucking alone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I don’t hear what Kam tells Cynthia, but whatever it is has her offering a snide rebuttal as the door closes, leaving me sobbing against the drywall.
James. James wouldn’t be okay with this.
I’ve never felt so alone.
Zander
My house is a comfortable two-story standalone with a brick front in a neighborhood where the houses are separated with space and tress. It’s not that expensive, but it’s private.
I chose it for the privacy. It’s close enough that we could enjoy each other’s company at either house, while having our own spaces.
Damon suggested space, given how quickly things have developed and how their sessions have been carrying on. Space is good. There are times when I won’t be there for her and she should know to behave in my absence. She should be strong in solitude, if for no other reason than it would please me for her to do so.
So tonight, she’ll sleep without me. Silas has already been informed to be more vigilant than normal. I keep reminding myself that this is best. That she will benefit from this.
And if not, she has my number and she will tell me. That is the only item on her list while I’m good. To keep her phone on her and use it if necessary.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the back deck, draws my attention.
Damon comes in through my back door, rubbing his hands together. “Damn. Cold out there tonight. And you have me out in it for a card game.” He takes a moment to look around before saying, “Nice place.”
“It’s not even snowing.” I pull open the fridge and hand him a beer as soon as he’s got his coat off. “How’s Ella?”
“Already miss her?” he teases with a grin.
“Fuck off. How is she?”
“You can’t always be there for everything, Zander. She needs to be okay without you, you know?”
“I assume that means she’s doing just fine.”
“Last I checked, she told me she was zoning out with a box of chocolates and some new show Kelly told her she needed to binge.”
I nod first and then thank him. “I appreciate it,” I tell him before patting the threshold and showing him around the new place.
“It’s minimal,” he comments.
“I like a modern style with clean lines.” Glancing around, I can count on both hands the number of purchases I made for the dining room and living room combined. There’s functionality in the gray suede modular sofa. The set of modern chairs with leather backing and black coffee table were on display in the furniture store, as was the abstract black and white with dark blue faded six-by-six canvas. The dining room is even more bare, with simple clear chairs and a dark walnut table that boasts a knot of a single chunk of wood on the surface.
“Downstairs is where it’s at,” I tell him, avoiding the hallway and in it, my master bedroom, along with the playroom for Ella.
The dungeon is tucked away in the back half of the basement, and I second-guess whether or not I closed the doors as Damon follows behind me on the newly finished stairs.
“This place is nice. You’re renting?” he questions.
“Maybe buying,” I half answer, more focused on the closed door than his question.
The first thing Damon says is, “Nice,” running his hand down the newly felted poker table. “Dartboard in the back.”
“No bar yet, but I’m planning one,” I tell him. It’s a typical game room although all I have in here at the moment is the table and the hung dartboard. “There’s still a number of things I’m looking to add.” My gaze wanders to the dungeon but I’m quick to correct it.
Before Damon can say any more, his phone goes off. As he checks his phone, I check mine and a text comes in.
Ella: Do you have Silas spying on me?
I text her back, I’m always spying on you my little rulebreaker.
Ella: I miss you.
Damon comments that Silas just updated him. Ella’s doing well. He must have just checked on her, prompting her to message me.
Ella: It’s quiet in this house without you.
Zander: If you feel empty, I have ways to fix that
Ella: You’re so dirty!!
Her mock scolding makes me grin.
Zander: Be good, I’ll be watching you.
I put my phone in my pocket while Damon fills me in on his drive. We set up the card table with two decks. I’ve been back here more often over the past months ordering furniture, making necessary arrangements and debating on whether Ella would be comfortable here or not. It’s starting to feel like home again, like my old place I rented, though I’m beginning to think it will never feel completely right without Ella.
With my mind occupied, Damon moves on to other topics. We’re setting out a heaping bowl of chips when Damon asks beneath his breath, “You find anything else?”
“Anything about what?’ I ask him.
“About Ella’s father.”
“Yeah.”
I’ve been doing more research on Ella’s family history, focused on the media surrounding the trial. “There’s a theory that it wasn’t her mother who killed her father’s first wife. It was the father.”
Damon nods. “Sounds plausible.”
“There are a number of conspiracy theories out there. Ella was so young, I can’t imagine she would know anything.”
“I think it would be best to let that part of her history go, unless she’s the one who wants to know more?” he questions.
“I haven’t told her. It was just … something just doesn’t feel right.”
“Are you done looking now?”
“Not until I figure it all out,” I tell him. Maybe I shouldn’t dig, but there’s a prick at the back of my neck when I think about how she reacted to talking about her mother and father. There’s something there, I know there is.
Damon’s tone breaks me from the thought. “No murder theory talk while the guys are over for cards.”
It’s like he’s summoned them, because there’s a loud knock on the front door. Hustling up the stairs, I get to the door just as there’s another knock.
Opening the door wide, I tell them to come on in as Damon’s coming up the stairway.
“Damn, nice place,” Thomas comments before he’s even fully in. Glancing around the place, I think it’s nice in some ways, yet cold in others.
“I’ve got boxes to unpack still, but the game is set up downstairs and there’s plenty of beer.
Alex, Thomas, and Ethan file in one by one, shouting and greeting us with slaps on the back. I’ve known these guys since high school. Damon had a front-row seat to when I lost my shit over Quincy, but they were there too, in a way. Not so much in my apartment, or guiding me through healthy ways to deal with loss. Just in the way they always have been. They checked in on me, invited me out even when I kept declining. They were simply there and that made all the difference.
We’ve always been there for each other.
“My girl practically kicked me out,” says Thomas when all of us are in the kitchen, choosing our first-round picks for beer. “Begged me to spend a night with you assholes.”
Thomas and his girlfriend have been together at least six months now.
“When you popping the question?” Ethan jokes, “She sounds like a smart one.”
Thomas just smiles wider, not reacting to the taunt. The way he talks about her, always bringing her up, always smiling when we ask about her … it’s telling. He really cares about her.
“Mine was excited too,” says Alex. “She said she wanted to binge-watch this romance show on Netflix. I said I’d watch it with her, but she said she wanted to experience it the way it was meant to be experienced, whatever that means.”
“Means it’s going to be hot,” says Ethan. “So hot she won’t want you there to see it.”
Alex frowns. “Why wouldn’t she want me to see it?”
Ethan comments dryly as we make our way down the stairs to the table. “’Cause if it’s one of those historical shows, then you’ll have to witness how horny she is for a guy in a tricorn hat.” The laughter ricochets in the stairwell and the guys keep it moving, finding their place at the table and twisting off the caps to the beers.
“It’s about time we had a poker night,” says Damon. “How long has it been since the last one?” Damon was the last one to join this group. When he took me in, I took him in. Now he’s one of the crew.
“Too long,” I say. Months, at least. I used to love cards. We used to play once a week, and I looked forward to it even when I was with Quincy. It’s one of those things you walk away from feeling good. Like the world is right.
At that thought, I check my phone, searching for a message from Ella but find nothing.
As the guys chat and catch up, I open up the security app to find the living room empty. There’s a nagging twist in my chest, and I’m quick to search before finding her in her bedroom.
It’s too early for her to be in bed.
There’s the crack of the deck being shuffled as I tell them I’m headed up to get another beer. The guys are passing around pretzels and making a fucking mess of my table, and only Ethan is in need of another beer.
“I’ll get you one.”
Taking the steps two at a time, I text Ella.
Zander: Spread your legs for me.
Watching on my phone, I see her get the message and then peer up at the camera before doing as she’s told. Each heel digging into the mattress and her legs bent and spread wide as she lays back on the bed.
Just as she’s texting me, I test her.
Ella: Like this?
Zander: Fucking beautiful.
The fridge opens, delivering a cool sensation and the two bottles clink in my left hand as I text with my right.
Zander: Pet your pussy for me, I want to watch you come undone for me.
The quality of the camera and the app make it impossible for me to see with enough detail to fully enjoy this. Which is for the best, considering my current company.
I don’t have to have an up-close view to know my little bird is being greedy.
Zander: Not just your clit … I want to see you squirm.
I’m slower in my descent downstairs, satisfied that at the very least, my little bird is focused on pleasure now. She’s thinking about coming and obeying, about pleasing me and what rewards I’ll give her for being a good girl.
Zander: Good girl.
The sound is off, but as I retake my seat, her back arches on the bed.
Zander: Come for me, but be still.
My text goes unread for a second and then another.
Just as I’m ready to admonish her, she sees and stills, getting back into position after stripping off her nightgown.
Glancing around the table, all the men are looking at me.
“What’d I miss?”
Thomas fills me in. “I asked about your new place and if you got rid of the one down Route 40?”
“Yeah, it was a rental.” I peek down at my phone and smirk at Ella, still playing with herself.
Zander: Dip your finger in. Just one.
“We gonna get back into it?” Ethan questions. “I know you’ve been busy with work and all. Is this more permanent?”
“I’m not sure yet.” With my phone in my lap so I can see, I decide to give her a few minutes to enjoy herself.
I’ve been vague with the guys about the details with Ella, and The Firm. Too much is still up in the air to get into a real discussion about it, and I don’t want to spend a poker night talking about it.
“Once a week sounds good to me. Or every other week.” I take a good look at Thomas. “You think every other week would be better with your ball and chain?”
I barely hear his answer as I text Ella to come like a good girl and then clean herself up.
“I like every week. The drive wasn’t too bad either.”
“Lindsey would binge-watch her show once a week,” Alex says. “Especially if you’re telling me that tricorn hats are hot now. I don’t know if I get the appeal of those kinds of hats.”
I offer a short chuckle, focused on my little bird’s lips making a perfect O as she finds her release on the bed. Fuck, that’s hot. I run my hand down my face. I’m hard as fuck.
“You’re going to have to if you want to keep up with her,” Tom jokes, and it’s another round of easy laughter.
“You all right?” Ethan asks.
“Just work,” I answer and when I look up, Damon’s brow is arched, his phone tapping on the felt surface.
“Yeah, sometimes,” he says. “It would be nice to get a heads-up.” His tone is dry and I force the humor to stay in my chest at the realization that Damon just got a scene he probably wasn’t prepared for. Or Silas did and informed Damon.
Either way, it’s one more reason that they need to leave her to me.
“Just don’t go being quiet and ignoring us,” Ethan says.
Thomas agrees and I have to re
assure them that it’s not going to happen. My phone vibrates in my lap.
Ella: Did I please you?
Zander: Always, my little bird. I’m looking forward to fucking your pretty little pussy tomorrow.
Ella: That makes two of us.
Zander: If ever I’m not with you and you want to enjoy yourself, I give you full permission to do so, understood?
Ella: Understood. Thank you, Z.
Zander: Are you going to sleep?
Ella: Yes. I’m so tired.
Zander: Sleep well and dream of me.
Ella: You too, Z. xoxo
“I mean it. You’re being weird again. Moving and not telling us until after.”
“It’s a girl, isn’t it?”
“Tell me it’s a girl, fucking please. God, just tell me you’re getting laid again,” Thomas groans and the guys laugh at my expense.
“I’m not ignoring you guys. Just …” I contemplate my next words. “Just a bit busy with a client and I had to make some last-minute arrangements.”
“Is ‘client’ a code word here for something else?” Ethan questions.
Running my thumb down my jaw, I decide to admit it. “Possibly, yeah.”
“Damn.”
“Holy shit.”
“She has you moving and everything?”
The guys make their comments and I let them, not giving them much information at all. Damon’s the only one who’s aware of my preferences.
It feels damn good for them to know about her, though.
“I’m just glad it’s a chick and you aren’t avoiding us again.”
“Not avoiding you, and let’s aim for every other week?” I offer and after a few comments while Thomas shuffles, we all agree to keep game night going.
I pulled away from everyone the hardest after Quincy died, and that’s why the card games were so erratic for a while there. It felt fucked up to think about sitting around the table pretending like I was all right when she was gone. It still feels a bit wrong, if I’m honest. The fact that I get to enjoy this, and she doesn’t, it’ll always carry a certain weight. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that withdrawing from your whole damn life is as good as being dead yourself.