The King and the Courtesan (36 page)

BOOK: The King and the Courtesan
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“I loved you so much,” Cordelia whimpered, eyes clenched shut. “You were my best girl.”

“Still am,” I whispered, smoothing her hair back as she stared up at me imploringly. “I’m still your best girl.”

“I love you. I always have.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet.

“I would have done anything for you. I kept messing up, I know. All I ever wanted was to make you happy. Be the person who could—who could make you feel like—like an angel.”

“Cordelia, you aren’t making any sense.”

“I love you! Not like a girlfriend. Like—like a lover.”

I stopped touching her hair and pulled away from her, shaking my head.

“Don’t! Please don’t walk away from me! Melissa!”

“What do you want me to say to you, Cordelia?”

“Tell me you love me back.”

“I can’t.”

Cordelia started crying again, the anger gone. She was still on her knees, looking pathetic. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how.

“You always told me how you don’t trust men, so I hoped…”

“That doesn’t mean I love women!” I shot back at her.

“But…”

“It doesn’t work like that, Cordelia, and you know that. Disliking one thing doesn’t make you love another.” I shook my head, rubbing my face with a hand. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were a lesbian?”

“I thought… I thought that one day…”

“What? You thought I’d catch on and we’d ride off into the sunset or something?”

Cordelia bowed her head, sobbing harder. She slumped, putting her hands on the sidewalk. Now she began to wail, and it made it that much harder to keep from lying to her, just to get her to stop. Sure, I was a lesbian, why not? Wouldn’t that be great? To never have to worry about another man’s hands on me, to not crave the day I’d find one who actually loved me. Love would be as easy as finding a woman like me and moving in together.

I almost started laughing because it was never easy. Cordelia was proving that.

“Why? Why don’t you love me?” Cordelia cried.

“You know why.”

“You just said you did!”

“Not the way you want me to.”

“Men won’t ever love you!” She pointed a shaking finger at me. “Never! They won’t ever see you as anything but a—but a cheap whore! That’s just w-what th-they do and—” But she wasn’t able to finish. She was falling apart again, her upper lip wet with snot and her eyes so swollen they almost looked bruised.

I walked back up to her and stood over her. When she looked up, I leaned down closer and whispered, “You think you could do a better job right now, Cordelia?”

Cordelia stared up at me with her big, wet, dark eyes, her lips trembling. We held gazes for about ten seconds before more tears leaked out, sliding down her cheeks in thin rivulets. Then she shook her head.

I held out my hand. “Come with me, Cordelia. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Just as Cordelia’s hand fell into my palm, there was a squeal of tires. A car with thumping bass pulled up by the curb and two men leapt out, both wearing leather jackets and ragged jeans. One looked all too familiar.

“Who the fuck you think you are?” shouted the unfamiliar greasy guy with a ponytail. He strode right up to Cordelia as if I weren’t there, grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked her back to face him. “Who the
fuck
you think you are, you little slut?”

Then he slapped her, and she began to shriek again. Without thinking, I shoved him back.

“Who the fuck you think
you
are?” I snapped as he reeled in shock. “Big man you are, huh, beating up on a tiny, drugged-up girl?”

My bodyguard grabbed my arm and pulled me back, as if expecting an altercation. Just when he began to put himself between Cordelia’s abuser and me, a much calmer voice said, “Well, if it isn’t
Melissa Thatcher.”

I looked up at Blade, lounging against a defunct parking meter with a gun in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth. His eyes lingered on my body with no concern to propriety. “You clean up
nice
.”

“Shut up.”

“Sure is a pretty dress for this neighborhood. You got some rich boyfriend or what?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know about Ezekiel. My girls knew, but they certainly wouldn’t take the time to tell
Blade
about it.

“This him?” Blade pointed to my bodyguard. “Nice suit, man. Though I gotta admit, you sure are a dumb-ass for wearing it around here. Not the best part of the city to be boasting wealth, if you know what I mean.”

“We should go,” my bodyguard insisted under his breath.

I ignored him, because I couldn’t resist shooting back, “None of your business, Blade. You let go of Cordelia.”

Blade turned to his ponytailed friend. “What do you think, Jericho? You need the whore or what?”

“She has a name,” I growled. “Use it.”

Blade walked closer, shoving his gun into his belt and pulling his cigarette out of his mouth to blow a plume of smoke toward me. I’d forgotten how tall and big he really was. But I refused to back off. For once in my life, I didn’t need to be afraid of him. I had a highly trained bodyguard who showed no signs of intimidation. Even if Blade did manage to kill me, Ezekiel would find out and hunt Blade down like a bloodhound. And he’d kill Blade in the grisliest way possible.

It would be a small service to the world, even though I died,

“You a tough girl, Melissa? Huh?”

“Tougher than you. At least I don’t need a gun to shake up a scared prostitute.”

Blade chuckled, then spit to the side. I heard the saliva
splat
just to the right of my designer pumps.

“Wow, you grew some claws since you stopped coming around. Where’d you get the bravado from, huh? Your new man? He teach you to be such a tiger?”

“No, but he told me how to sniff out a coward.”

“I’d be careful who you’re calling a coward.” He hadn’t shaved in a few days, so he looked even more unkempt than usual as he leaned toward me.

“Leave Cordelia alone.”

Blade tried to step closer. My bodyguard angled his body between us. With a sneer at him, Blade said, “No.”

My sense of hopelessness climbed higher. “She’s not useful to you anymore, Blade, and you know it.” I wasn’t exactly sure when Blade started pimping. Maybe he was simply helping out his gross friend. Either way, it made me sick to think I’d ever slept with him. “Just let her go.”

“Sometimes really desperate men will pay a few bucks to fuck her.”

“Yeah, well, you also have to pay to put drugs into her, so I don’t think you’re coming out even.”

Blade turned to Jericho. “Hey, man, it seems Melissa has better business sense than we do. ‘Mazing, isn’t it?”

Jericho just smirked.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t let her go, huh? Stomp that foot and bitch to your little man friend here?”

I didn’t think Ezekiel would care about taking revenge for me, especially if it was in the interest of a destroyed, drug-riddled prostitute. So I didn’t even think of using Ezekiel as a threat. “Do it for me, Blade. I meant something to you, once, didn’t I?”

“Well, you always did have real hot legs.”

“She’s of no use to you. Just let me deal with her.”

“Hmm, give away a woman who makes me money to some bitch who’s done absolutely nothing for me in return. How about I make you a deal? I give you Cordelia. But then you come with me.”

“You’re sick.”

“That’s business. Replace something that’s broken with something of better value.” Suddenly, his hand fell on my arm. “Though I guess in the end, it doesn’t even matter. You’re coming with me either way.”

Before he could move, my bodyguard pressed a gun against Blade’s temple. Jericho reached for his own weapon, but when he caught the look Ezekiel’s man threw him, he removed his hand from his belt.

I slid behind my bodyguard, closer to Cordelia.

“What the fuck is this?” Blade hissed. “You pull a fucking
gun
on me, man?”

“Touch her again and I’ll fire,” my bodyguard snapped.

“Your girlfriend ain’t the little angel you probably think she is. She’s a good-for-nothing whore who begged for it. She hasn’t ever been loyal to you, of that I’m sure. She’ll open her legs for—”

Blade shut up when my bodyguard practically shoved the barrel of the gun between his lips.

“Another word and I scatter your brains across the sidewalk,” he said.

I leaned down beside Cordelia. Clearly, Jericho was not happy about it, but what could he do with a gun held to his friend’s head? I drew Cordelia back, wrapping an arm around her as she curled herself further into me.

My bodyguard nodded at me. I reached into my bag, pulling out my phone and a piece of paper. I immediately began to copy down the address Yogi had given me. Yogi was living with Thomas outside of Metro. I couldn’t bring Cordelia back to Ralston with me—that would probably invoke Ezekiel’s rage. But I knew Yogi would take care of her, and if she was outside of Metro, she wouldn’t have to worry about Blade snooping around for her.

My bodyguard disarmed Blade, then ordered Jericho to throw his weapon over. After pocketing both pistols, he ordered Cordelia and me both into the car. We went without needing told twice.

The butt of his gun slammed into Blade’s face, and Blade stumbled back, holding his bloody nose and cursing. With Blade distracted, my bodyguard grabbed Jericho and handcuffed him to the parking meter. Then he slid into the car without a backward glance.

We were a few blocks away when I called a cab.

“Where am I going?” Cordelia asked.

“Yogi’s.” I pressed the paper with the address into her hand. “This is where she lives.”

“Can’t you just drive me there?” Cordelia asked. She was winding down from her high, judging by the slow shrinking of her pupils and increased comprehension.

I shook my head. “Blade might send out a hit on this car. We’re getting you into a car he doesn’t recognize. You should be safe in a cab.”

“But—Melissa! Please, I don’t want to—”

“You aren’t safe in this car.” I folded her fingers over the paper. “You’ll be fine, all right? Just get to Yogi’s. I’ll call her and make sure she can pay the cab fee. She’ll be waiting for you.”

“But Blade and Jericho—they’ll
kill
me, Melissa! If they find me—”

“Stay the hell away from Metro then.” I squeezed her shoulder. “Cordelia, you
can
do better than this. Just believe in yourself, and trust Yogi. I’ll come and see you when I can.” I gave her a small smile. “We’ll get you through this.”

She stared into my eyes for a few seconds, then nodded. I kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand before pulling back to call Yogi.

Chapter 36

I didn’t feel much better as I watched the lights of Cordelia’s cab fade into the distance. I knew that Yogi would take care of Cordelia whether she wanted to or not, because Yogi had both a maternal nature and the inability to refuse people kindness. Thomas might protest, but he was such a soft-spoken man that Yogi would probably win any argument against him. Blade and Jericho had no idea where she lived. Even if they did, it was a house in a nice neighborhood with security measures and cops around every corner.

However, I still felt disappointed in myself. It seemed everyone I knew was falling into disrepair, and despite all my resources, I couldn’t help anyone. It was so horribly frustrating. Also, Cordelia’s confession of love wasn’t making it any easier. I wasn’t sure how I’d never known. Shouldn’t that sort of thing be obvious? It was surreal, knowing that someone actually loved me. No one had ever felt that way about me. It was hard not to feel at least a bit touched by her affection.

I looked at my bodyguard, who had remained silent since getting into the car. I felt obligated to say something.

“Thank you. For helping me out there.”

“It’s my job,” he said.

“Yeah, but helping Cordelia isn’t.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t help Cordelia. You did.”

“Still.” I bit my lip, staring out the windshield for a moment. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

“What’s your name?” I asked suddenly, surprising myself.

He seemed to think about the question, probably wondering if he should even tell me. I assumed Ezekiel told him to remain as distant from me as possible, considering how Roger became so attached.

“Noah,” he finally said.

“Oh. Well, uh, nice to meet you, Noah.”

He gave me a small smile, the only one I’d ever seen out of him. Not interested in pushing my luck, I simply returned the smile and fell silent.

We drove along the Wendel Tributary, a small trickle of water that wove its way through Metro until it reached the Mohakka River east of Zinya City. Most of the time, the concrete ravine it flowed through was nearly empty, and children would often go down in the summer and cool off in the water, despite how dirty and full of litter it always was. Sometimes, reckless young men would race their cars down there; others rode their bikes and skateboards up and down the cement slopes. Years of such use and no maintenance had caused the concrete to buckle and crumble, allowing a foul-smelling mud to protrude from underneath.

Apparently, it rained while I was off in Jahral, because not only had the water level risen, but chunks of mud squeezed out of the cracks, rolling down into the stream below.

Something exploded through the windshield, striking Noah and spraying blood over the windows and upholstery. I barely had time to register the bullet in Noah’s head before the car careened sideways, leaping off the road and through the rusty chain-link fence separating the road from the tributary. Striking the concrete slope at such an angle caused the car to tip sideways and then roll all the way down. It came to a halt on its back at the very bottom of the ravine. I screamed the whole way and was shocked to find myself alive once the car went still, even as I hung upside down from my seat belt.

I groaned and tried to move, but pain rocketed through my body. Blearily, I found that I could move only one of my arms and part of my right leg. My left leg was numb, smashed between crumpled sheets of metal. My right arm seemed broken—just moving a finger set my hand on fire. I felt blood run up my neck, through my dangling hair.

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