by Groom, Nikki
It takes a while for people to start to dance, but when they do, there’s a little more room to move around on the perimeter.
“Okay, guys. You said we’d dance. So I want to dance. Who’s with me?” I drain the rest of the champagne in the glass I was given on my way back into the ballroom, and place it on the bar just a few feet away.
“Okay!” Lottie answers, doing a little bounce on the balls of her feet. “Sambuca. Then we dance.”
“Yes!” I reply.
“I’m not sure—” Denham starts.
“Look, King,” I say, pointing a finger in his chest “If you’re going to tell me it’s not a good idea to get drunk, then think again. We are doing shots. Then we are dancing. Got it?” I sound fiercer than I feel, and instantly feel bad about being so sharp. But it quickly fades when I see the smirk on his face.
“I was going to say, I’m not sure they will have Sambuca, but I’ll happily go and check for you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, questioning if that was what he was really going to say or if he’s saying it to placate me. “Champagne makes you feisty,” he comments with a grin, and takes my hand to lead us to the bar.
Four clear, potent shots are lined up on the bar top and set alight. Lottie and I start the countdown.
“Three.” Denham raises his eyes to the ceiling and mutters under his breath and I laugh at him. “Two. One. Go!”
His face is a picture. I know he’s not new to doing shots, but I’m guessing it’s been some time since he downed something like Sambuca, and I feel happy that I’m responsible for corrupting this little part of him.
“Now we dance.” I grab his hand, kiss him hard on the lips, and lead him to the dance floor.
We all loosen up a little after the shots. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol rushing through our systems that helps us relax into the evening, or the fact that we are all good at pretending that everything is fine.
I’ve watched Denham dance. I’ve slow danced with him, when his warm body is pressed against mine. But I’ve never actually danced next to him. It’s true that god gifted these boys with everything. Between him and Spike, they cover every desirable trait you would look for in a man. They’re both sexy, in very different ways. They both wear a suit like a second skin. And, they can both dance like Channing Tatum. They have moves for every song that is played, and Lottie and I have a great time dancing with them, and letting them do their own thing. They feed off of each other when the music is playing, and I notice lots of people watch them too. When the band stops for a break, we stop dancing to grab a drink. Under the circumstances, I didn’t expect to let loose enough to have fun like that, but I’m so pleased we did. It goes a long way in showing us that maybe this is possible.
We grab some more champagne, and find a table. Denham sits and pulls me onto his lap.
“You look fucking edible this evening, Ari,” he growls into my ear.
I place my hand gently on the side of his face and run it around the back his neck, looking deep into his eyes and pulling him in to meet my lips. I move in close, just a whisper away, and let my tongue tease between his partly open lips. He groans, and pulls me in tighter to kiss me hard. He kisses me with such passion that at first I don’t register the voice behind me.
“Oh, aren’t you both cute?”
Amy.
Denham stiffens, and I drop my head into his chest and sigh.
When I turn, I wish I hadn’t. It’s not just Amy. She’s tucked into the arm of … Jonny.
I don’t know whether to laugh, or throw up.
Denham jumps up so fast, I stumble to catch my balance, but Lottie and Spike are at my side quickly so I have enough support to find my feet.
“We’re leaving,” Denham grates out, grabbing my hand and stepping forward, putting his body between Jonny and I.
Jonny holds up a hand in his path. “Mr. King. Isn’t it?” He uses his public voice. The one that’s neutral. Non-threatening.
“I said, we’re leaving,” Denham repeats.
“D. Baby. I think you should at least speak with Mr. Ellis here,” Amy drawls. “I thought it was about time I introduced you to the man behind the money,”
Oh shit.
“I’m sorry,” Jonny offers. “Amy isn’t making herself very clear. I’m your investor, Mr. King. So, I suppose that makes us … business partners?”
It’s like the band knew when to stop playing, and the interim music ceases too.
She sold him out. When she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with Denham, she sold him out. But not only that. She sold him to the Devil himself.
“You whore!” I screech.
I tear my hand from Denham’s and rush toward her. Momentarily, she looks shocked but as I approach, she sneers. I sink my hand into her peroxide tresses and yank her head backwards forcing a yelp from her. Denham and Spike rush to pull me from her, but just as they pull me free, Lottie dives in. Her little balled up fist lands in the corner of Amy’s mouth and splits her lip open before Spike grabs her and wraps his arms around her body, trying to keep her contained. She’s still kicking and screaming, but Spike whispers in her ear and she quiets, even though her nostrils are still flaring.
“I see nothing changes, Arianna,” Jonny remarks calmly.
“You don’t get to talk to her,” Denham snaps. He pushes me directly behind his body, broadening his shoulders so he’s a wall between Jonny and I.
“Oh no? Well, that’s where you’re wrong. Did she tell you what she did?” he asks, still with his composed façade in place.
Well, this is news to me. I place my arm around Denham’s waist from behind him, hoping he can reign in the anger I can feel bubbling through him. I need him to handle this.
Amy slides her slender hand in the crook of Jonny’s arm, and he gives her a loaded smile.
“Well,” he announces, “I won’t bore you with the details. But, I wouldn’t pin your feelings on this one if I were you.” He nods in my direction and smirks.
“You don’t get to talk to her or about her. Do. You. Understand me?” Denham leans right up close into Jonny’s face, spitting the words through his teeth, and barely keeping his composure.
“Hey, man,” Jonny retorts, holding his hands up in between them, “she didn’t tell you? Just letting you know, one guy to another. You got cash, she’s a loose cannon.” He swings his hands out to the sides, then lifts his shirt, “I’ve got the scars to prove it …”
I stare blankly at his stomach. A scar at least four inches long marks the left side of his torso, and he’s crediting me with this?
This is enough to tip Denham over the edge. Lottie screams, and Spike pushes her out of the way while he tries to reach Denham, who lunges forward and catches Jonny by the throat. Even while Denham is pushing him, thrusting him backwards against a stone pillar Jonny is insistent even through Denham’s vice like grip. “You’ll see.” His eyes slide to mine. Perfectly composed. Cold and calculated. “You’ll see.”
THE SCUFFLE THAT ENSUES is over pretty fast. Security pulls everyone back, and sends us all off. Jonny touches a hand to his mouth, then wipes away the trickle of blood with the back of his hand. That sinister smile hasn’t left his lips from the minute he approached us. It’s a smile I know well, a smile I have been on the receiving end of. Even when it wasn’t followed by a fist, it meant that something bad was to come. Amy is still standing by his side, her botoxed face remains expressionless, apart from her smile which now matches Jonny’s. I wonder how she knows him. How long? How?
“Let’s just go, please, can we just go,” I plead, pressing my hands on Denham’s chest. His heart races beneath my palms and matches the speed of my pulse. Emotions are high. Tempers are wavering on the edge of sanity, and it won’t take much for them to snap.
“Spike,” Denham barks. “Let’s go.”
Spike turns Lottie in the direction of the door, and Denham grabs my hand and turns to leave, too.
“You’ll see,” Jonny taunts, j
ust loud enough for us to hear in the hush of the room. Then he laughs. Lottie turns and breaks past Spike’s hold, taking him by surprise, and she manages to land a fist on Jonny’s cheek before Spike and Denham both drag her away. It stuns him momentarily, but he knows he’s winning so it doesn’t really register through the gloating success of his invasion.
Denham, Lottie, Spike and I, are escorted out of the ballroom. Denham throws his shoulder back when one of the security guards tries to physically move him and guide us out, and I notice Beth and Corey trying to get to us but being held back.
“Beth,” Denham calls. “See Tara gets home safely?” She nods, a worried expression on her face.
Once he sees her acknowledge him, his pace quickens, and he strides out of the building, still clasping my hand, and shrugging off the security.
“Fucking whore. Fuck. Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
“Denham …”
“Don’t, Ari. Just don’t.”
We get into the limo that’s waiting just outside the entrance. The door is held open for us by the well-dressed chauffeur, and I wonder if it’s always been here waiting, or if he’s been called especially for us to leave in the last five minutes.
The four of us enter and sit. No one speaks. No one knows what to say, and if the tension radiating from Denham is anything to go by, everyone knows it’s best to stay quiet.
The ride back to The Kingdom is long. It feels like it takes ten times as long as the excited ride we experienced on the way to the ball.
When we reach The Kingdom, we all exit the limo and stand on the sidewalk in an awkward silence.
“Take the girls up,” Denham orders. “I have some things I need to do in the office.” Spike nods in acknowledgement, but Lottie doesn’t seem happy at all.
“Urm, excuse me?”
“I said. Take the girls up.” Denham’s stern face is deep in thought, but his tone is not to be messed with. This of course makes Lottie’s hackles rise. She does not like to be told what to do.
“Listen here, mister,” Lottie says calmly, walking right up to him and standing as tall as she can possibly make herself. “Your surname might be ‘King’ but that does not make you commander of me. Now, I know you’ve heard a revelation this evening, but you’re not the only one.”
Denham looks at her and frowns, standing tall and pushing his chest out as if to defend his actions. “Say what?” he says quietly.
“I said, you are not fucking king and ruler of everyone, so I think we all need to sit down and formulate a plan, don’t you?”
He narrows his eyes, and drops his gaze to the floor.
“Fuck me, Spike. You’ve got your work cut out with this one, eh?” He looks up and offers Spike a small smile. His hand still holds mine, but he steps toward Lottie and bends at the waist to kiss her softly on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, Lottie. I’m sure you don’t want to be bored, sitting in my office, and listening to me curse and swear while I look for something that I’m pretty damned sure isn’t there. So, I thought it would be best for you guys to go upstairs and wait.”
“Then you should have suggested that instead of ordering it. Don’t you think Arianna needs your time more than your paperwork does right now?”
“Yes, you’re right. Totally right. I’m sorry. Let’s go talk it out. ” He pulls her into a one armed hug, tugging on my hand, too. So I join them.
The next few minutes happen so fast. But if it’s at all possible, it happens in slow motion too.
Screeching tires.
The thundering sound as a car approaches at high speed and mounts the curb.
Then the bang.
The bang that violently pulls a piercing scream from Lottie’s throat, as Spike is taken clean off his feet and catapulted into the air.
Screams. More screams. Coming from me, they’re coming from me, and Lottie. And yelling, coming from Denham.
Everything plays out in front of me like a slow motion picture film. Spike is helpless to the ton of metal that breaks his fall as he comes back down. He lands on the windshield with a thud. It shatters, and the speed at which the car continues to travel throws Spike onto the asphalt. The car pulls away onto the busy Las Vegas street as fast as it came.
“Spike! Spike!” Lottie screams, rushing to his side. “Fucking hell, help him. Someone help him!” She’s frantic. The tears are pouring from her eyes, and her screams are attracting everyone within earshot.
Denham is at his side in a split second. He murmurs words under his breath, but I can’t make them out. Neither of them are sure if they should touch him. Both of them frantic. Both of them now yelling at him to wake up. But he doesn’t respond.
My legs move me slowly closer. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to go to first, because I can’t help either of them.
There’s blood. Oh god. There’s blood coming from his head. And his face is cut. He lies at an awkward angle and I can’t help but think he’s bound to be uncomfortable. But he’s not even conscious.
“Is he breathing?” I whisper. “Is he breathing?” I yell.
Sirens cut through the crowds that have gathered, and the paramedics pull in as close as they can.
“Excuse me, miss, I need to get through,” One says, pushing past me with a huge medical bag. I step aside and blend in with the crowd, wrapping my arms around my body to find some kind of comfort. This can’t be happening.
“Spike! I need you,” Lottie cries. “I need you, baby. Please be okay.” She drops to her knees on the sidewalk as they put Spike on a stretcher and take him to the waiting ambulance. I push forward and wrap my arms around her body, absorbing the hysterical cries coming from her, and trying to help in some way. Only, I know that nothing can help. The only thing that will help is if she could see Spike open his eyes and talk to her. The paramedic gestures to his partner. It’s small and I only just catch it. A minute shake of his head. My stomach sinks. Please don’t let him die. Please don’t let him be dead.
Only one person is allowed to ride with him to the hospital, so Denham goes as I’m not sure Lottie should go anywhere without one of us with her. Jack brings the SUV around and we follow a couple of minutes behind. Lottie stares blankly at her feet the whole way. Her sobs mingle with whispered pleas for Spike to be okay. I can feel her heart breaking. We are ushered into a small family room when we arrive, and find Denham in there, too.
“Where is he? What’s happening? Please tell me he’s going to be okay, he has to be okay,” Lottie begs, and Denham folds her into his chest. He strokes her hair until she quiets, then he holds her by her shoulders so he can look her in the eyes.
“Lottie, I need you to listen and be strong, okay?” he says, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. Her lips quiver when she meets his gaze but she nods. “They’ve taken him to the operating room. He has a ruptured spleen, and some internal bleeding that they need to stop. He’s in bad shape, babe. But he’s going to okay, okay? He’s our Spike, and he’s going to be okay.” Denham’s voice cracks on the last words, and the wall of tears he’s been fighting back breaks. The pain at seeing his little brother in such a way streams down his face, and seeing him cry breaks my own composure. A sob hitches in my throat, and Denham holds out his arm and pulls me into him, too. Not half an hour ago we were in this same position. I want to rewind. I want to go back. Then it hits me. This is my fault. It’s all my fault. Denham wouldn’t listen to me when I told him I was trouble. Nothing but trouble. If I hadn’t been there tonight, Denham, Lottie and Spike wouldn’t have gotten kicked out early, and we wouldn’t have been standing on that sidewalk. A chance hit and run. But due to circumstances revolving around me, that chance meant it was us in the wrong place at the wrong time. If something happens to him, I don’t know how I can live with myself. I don’t know how Denham and Lottie will live with me. Maybe they won’t want to. After all, who wants someone like me around when all I do is put their loved ones at risk. First Tara, now Spike.
&nb
sp; I break away, and wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I’ll get us a coffee,” I whisper.
When I exit the room and shut the door behind me, a deep voice makes me jump.
“Is there anything I can get you, Miss Fraser?”
Jack is standing to the right side of the door with his hands clasped behind his back.
I look down and shake my head. “No, thank you, Jack.”
“You have to have faith, you know,” he says, all the while, he’s standing like a sentry guard, eyes constantly scanning the corridor ahead of us.
“Are you a bodyguard, Jack?” I ask, still puzzled at his position in Denham’s life.
He laughs low. “No.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m just … Jack,” he says cryptically, finishing with a shrug.
I find the coffee machine, and pull out some change from my clutch. I pull my cell out and contemplate calling my mom. I don’t know what she can do to help, but she’s the person I feel I can turn to. Just hearing her voice; it always makes everything feel better. But I don’t. It’s late. She’s probably asleep; besides, I don’t want to upset her until we know what’s happening. But I glance at the screen and see that I have a message. Sliding it open, I see that it’s from a number that hasn’t been stored under a name in the memory. When I press my finger to open the message, the words stop my heart from beating.
You ready to come back to me yet?
That can only be one person. The only person in the world that’s capable of wrecking my life and causing so much pain. Did he do this? Is it all down to him?
I can’t … I can’t process it all. I just need to know that Spike’s alright. I need to know that he’s alive and he’s going to be okay.