Scandal:The Complete Series(39)
Fuck Carter and the whole damn organization and their petty brawls over money and territories. “I need to find Ella. She’s not safe.”
“I can read your thoughts, Jack. You’ll get yourself killed and the girl. Carter’s little trick only worked before the murder details hit the press. The Bronsons know Madison was not the one, they know they were duped. Your framing was a message to that effect. They sent us a message. Being loyal to the organization should be your number one concern right now. We’ll protect the girl. Carter has security on her already but we’ll add some of our own.”
“What the hell are you talking about? How long before she figures it out? I’m taking her out of the country.”
“Jack,” he pronounces my name slowly, almost dragging the vowel out, to get my attention. “You need to let her go. Wake up, my boy. How long are you going to pine after that girl? I know you knew her before. This is not your life. Princesses and movie stars would give themselves up to you. Your destiny is greatness. Don’t die over a childhood crush.”
“I ain’t shit,” I say. “And neither are you.” I get up and take a step to the door. My chest begins to tighten as the lack of sleep and the agitation of the moment come together in my blood.
“Jack,” I hear my uncle’s voice behind me. “Work out the probabilities.”
His two goons look at each other questioningly as I exit the building, unsure if they should stop me or let me go. At least, Lucius hasn’t instructed anyone to restrain me, yet.
Fatigue has hit me hard but I can still make my way to Elaine’s car and hot-wire it in a snap. There’s no power in this world that can keep me away from Ella Wade.
When they arrested me, she was ready to gouge Esposito’s eyes out. I haven’t forgotten her loyalty. She’s the air I breathe. Her eyes are what I see when I close mine. Her delicate hands, her perfectly-shaped breasts, the lines around her mouth when she smiles—all of these things are worth dying for, but it’s her heart that has given me life all these years. I cannot let anyone or anything stop it from beating.
The phone rings and I have to dig deep in my back pocket to get it out.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Brad says. “I heard they let you loose. You’re like the cat with the nine lives.”
“If only it worked like that,” I say. “Listen, dude, I’m on my way to find Ella. I’ll catch up later.”
“Yeah, about that… Heads up. Ella’s having a hard time right now. She got her hands on your iPad. She knows, man.”
—four—
Ella
All my hopes for a cool head and a calm heart have already died a peaceful death when I arrive at the Daily Scandal’s offices. My heart’s pounding like crazy and my knees are shaky as I cautiously walk through the glass door to what seems like a previous life.
It’s mid Monday morning which is usually the busiest time of the week, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to sneak in and out without much ado. All I want is to get the latest information on the status of Jaxson’s arrest before I face him. I don’t want to be blindsided ever again and if there’s a place where this kind of information can be found, including parts not officially released to the press, it’s the Daily Scandal.
Jaxson was arrested on Saturday but while at my mother’s place for the weekend, I completely avoided tuning into the news, afraid I might hear things I’d rather not. But all that’s done now. I’ve had my moment of shutting out the world and now it’s time to get back in the saddle and be a professional as well as deal with the urgent matters in my personal life.
“I did not expect to see you here.” Mark Devlin of all people has caught sight of me as I’m trying to get to my cubicle with my head down and shoulders hunched. He may not have been expecting me, but I bet he’s been waiting for me all the same.
“Hey, Mark,” I say. “How is it going?”
“You tell me,” my editor-in-chief says, giving me an urgent look that means I better come clean if I want to keep my job.
“I’m sorry I didn’t check in on Saturday. I drove up to Santa Barbara to spend time with my mother. This has been tough on her.”
Mark furrows his brow, saying nothing for a few seconds. “Come with me,” he says in the end.
As I follow him to his private office, I can’t help but admire the way he comports himself, always keeping a perfectly straight back and an energetic gait, dressed in casual looking suits and sportswear that fit him like a glove. Mark looks like a younger George Clooney without the gray hair.