The Stage (Phoenix Rising #1) (13 page)

“Thank you, Deloris. It feels a lot better now that I know I won’t lose you.”

“No, you won’t, dear,” she affirms, patting me on the back. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she adds before walking toward her bedroom just off the kitchen.

I eat my beans and rice, drink some water, and peek in on Riley, who’s fast asleep holding her Tepig Pokémon stuffed animal. I climb the stairs and unzip Kolton’s jacket, placing it on my bed. I walk into the bathroom and take in the damage to my shirt. My skin is still flushed and pink, my lips red and swollen from kissing. My eyes are puffy and black makeup is smeared under them. As I open the shirt, that’s when I see the red mark. It’s a hickey on my left breast. I touch it and it stings a little; it’s bright purple like the petal of a rose. And, as I examine myself further, I see another one on my neck, just behind and below my ear. I know I shouldn’t think this, but I’m glad they’re there. It makes it real.

I haven’t had a hickey since, well, since Carlos Chavez, a boy I’d dated for a few months my freshman year in high school. That day, he’d walked me to my front door. He leaned in and kissed me, chaste at first, and when I reciprocated, he got wild, sticking his tongue in my mouth really hard. I was caught off guard as he moved his lips to my neck and sucked so hard it hurt. I’d pushed him away and refused to talk to him again after that.

He’d called me a tease. So did Dean, my ex-boyfriend, cheater, jerk-face. He’d said I was a tease and pressured me into our first time. Then he left me when I needed him the most.

But not Kolton. He’s been there for me.
I
went to
him
in the car; I was pulling him toward me. I hadn’t even known he’d given me hickeys. I wanted him. There was this connection, deep inside me that melded with something inside him. We’re both orphans, both survivors. Hugging Deloris today reminded me that I had many more years with my parents than Kolton did with his. I think he’s starving for love. Do any of those women he sleeps with give him anything other than physical pleasure?

Probably not, or he’d have a wife or girlfriend. In this moment, with my shirt open, and my bare chest marked with Kolton’s fire, I want to help him heal. I know that’s not my job. I can’t even say that I’m close to healing from the emotional scars of losing
my
parents. But, inside him is a little boy, a parent-less little boy who survived, who is a miracle.

After washing off the makeup and changing into my pajamas, I check my phone. There’s nothing from Kolton and my heart aches just a little. I could text him, but what would I say?

I’m not going to contact him. Instead, I decide to go to sleep, more confused than ever, but not really angry, just willing to wait a little longer for the truth.

*     *     *

The following day I’m instructed to meet the producer, Ron, to record my new song for next week. They haven’t paired us up yet, so we have to record our songs separately until Pulse’s team is settled and I know who I’m up against. The song they’ve picked for me is “Burn” by Ellie Goulding.

I ponder the lyrics all through my breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese while sitting at the breakfast bar with Riley. She’s humming something else when I kiss her on the head and then Devon drives me to the studio. I sing along while reading the lyrics the entire way there.

I wonder if Kolton chose this song for me. It’s about a relationship, a bright one that everyone notices, about putting out the fires, but letting the fire take over, letting it take its course. Is that what he wants with me? God, I wish he’d talk to me.

My day in the studio is a long one. They bring in food and we work late into the evening. Ron informs me he’s concerned because he doesn’t know who I’m paired with, or what they’ll sound like when they edit us together. He’s also heard that they might release independent versions with just one singer instead; I think that might be the better idea. Late that night, with a crick in my neck, I step into the elevator at the Wilshire Thayer.

Riley’s already asleep when I walk in. I kick my TOMS off at the stairs and pad my way into the kitchen. I find some lasagna in the microwave and scarf it down. It’s been so long since I’ve taken a jog; I want to run off the cheese I’ve just consumed. Up in my room, I pull on my grey sports bra and shorts. I’m pulling my white T-shirt over my pony tail when the doorbell rings.

I jump. Someone’s at the door. Someone’s at the door? Who could be here this time of night?

As I start down the angled staircase, Deloris is opening the door. “Can I help you?” she asks.

“Who are you?” asks a woman with an English accent. I peer over the edge of the staircase above them.

“I’m Deloris, Kolton’s nanny,” she says. “Can I help you with something?”

“I need to see him,” says the voice, just before a long, thin leg steps over the threshold into his house. “Kolton?” she calls, coming fully into view. She’s beautiful. Then I realize she’s the model pictured in that article I’d passed over earlier. The model who’d slapped Kolton.

“He’s not here,” Deloris says. “He’s been staying elsewhere.”

“Why does Kolton need a nanny?” she questions. I’m frozen on the stairs like a squirrel pinned to the bark of a tree, hoping not to be seen.

“I’m sorry, but he’d better answer that question for you,” Deloris says, as the leggy blonde storms past her and enters the apartment, making her way toward the living room. “Ma’am!” Deloris says. “You can’t come in here.”

“Can’t I?” she questions. “He’s not answering his phone. I’m not leaving until he talks to me.”

Is she crazy or something? I don’t want her to see me so I go back up and stand on the landing. I think if she finds out I’m here, it will be bad for Kolton, but really bad for me. She’ll go to the media. I look around, panicked, but then I realize I can just text him.

Kolton Royce Private

11:38 PM

There’s a model here looking for you. She sys she wont leave til you talk to her.

11:39

Did you answer the door?

11:41

No. Deloris did. I’m upstairs.

11:41

Stay where you are. Lock the door.

Holy shit!
Is
she a crazy person? Riley’s down there with her! So’s Deloris. I can’t just wait for him. I descend the stairs slowly, praying they won’t creak, and, when I get to the bottom I pick up my TOMS to hide the fact that I’m here, and peek around toward the living room. I see her legs sticking out from behind the wall. She’s sitting on the couch, but she won’t see me if I cross the foyer to Riley’s room; I can lock us in there. I shuffle across, and turn the doorknob.

I can hear Deloris on the phone. “Devon, I really need your help. There’s a—I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

As she’s asking her what her name is, I push the door open. It creaks low and loud like a moan.

“Who else is here?” she asks, as I quickly close the door and turn the lock. I’m pacing, shaking my hands to let the energy out.

“Yes, Devon. There’s a woman here to see Mr. Royce,” Deloris says, the sound muffled but still audible. “Uh, huh. Yes, I told her he’s not here. Well, who let her up, then?”

“The doorman let me up,” she announces. “He knows me. I used to
live
here. Where’s Kolton?” She used to live in the building? Or with Kolton?

“I really wish I could help you,” Deloris says. I can tell she’s trying to sound calm, but she’s talking too loud. I sit down in the chair and watch Riley’s chest rise and fall in a little rhythm. My heart is pounding. I check my phone. It’s nearly midnight. Wow! Was I really thinking of going out jogging this late at night? What was I thinking?

That model has been here for about fifteen minutes. I just wish someone would come and get her out of here. About five minutes later, I hear the front door open and I stand up.

“Katharina!” I hear Kolton say deep and intimidating. “What are you doing here?” he barks as his footsteps move toward the living room.

“You left me no choice,” she says, her accent strong. “You can’t stay mad for this long.”

“It’s time to go,” he says, his voice loud and severe.

“Where? Upstairs?” she asks seductively.

“Look. We already talked about this.”

“Come on, Kolton,” she whines. “I just want to remind you—and then.”

“It’s over. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“You don’t mean it,” she says.

“You need to leave right now, or I’m going to have Manny and Devon
take
you out—Does that sound like I mean it?”

“But—”

“And then I’m filing charges and getting a protective order against you.” He sounds cold, detached.

“But, I love you, Kolton. Don’t do this!” It’s obvious she’s crying now.

“You don’t know what love is, Katharina,” he answers, and there’s some sound like a hit, or something hitting a wall, a crashing sound, a scream I think is Deloris’.

“Take her out!” Kolton says, defiantly. Riley stirs, but settles back, remaining asleep. I’m standing at the door now, my hands pressed against the grain so close I feel the knots in the wood. I swallow hard as I hear a commotion coming toward the front door.

“You fucking asshole!” she screams. “You’re the one who can’t love. You’re fucking empty, just a shell, nothing. You’ll
never
know what love is!” she finishes just as the door slams behind her.

“Deloris,” Kolton says, in a soft tone.

“Yes,” I hear her say from far away.

“You don’t need to clean that up,” he cautions. “We’ll need it—as evidence.”

“Who
was
that?” she asks, enunciating every word.

“Listen, that will never happen again. I’m going to have Manny stay here from now on to protect all of you. And that doorman, he’s fired. I swear to God. She must’ve bribed him or something,” he sounds frantic.

“I’d appreciate that,” she says. “But you’re bleeding. We should call the police.”

“Devon’s taking care of that. Where’s Mia?” he asks.

“She’s probably upstairs,” Deloris answers. I listen as he climbs the stairs and I feel bad he won’t find me up there. I don’t want to face him so soon after what happened between us, but he’s here and I know he’ll make me see him.

Reluctantly, I open the door and look toward the living room. The coffee table looks like it’s been knocked around; it’s not lined up with the couch anymore. There’s glass on the floor and Deloris is standing in the middle of it. She looks shaken.

“Can I help you, Deloris?” I ask. She looks up at me, her expression stunned, and wipes her forehead. “No, it’s fine. He’s bleeding. You should check on him. I gave him a kitchen towel.”

“Okay,” I nod, understanding I should help him, even though I don’t want to.

As I climb the stairs, I wonder, is Katharina right?

Is Kolton capable of love?

It Can’t Be Me

I
put on some long socks to cover my scars before I walk toward Kolton’s open bedroom door. I haven’t been in there since that first day when I’d put those too-tall boots in his closet and read his letter explaining why he’d moved us into his house. I knock, but he doesn’t answer, so I walk across the threshold and call out, “Kolton? You okay?”

Silence.

I take a few steps into his room, but he must be in the bathroom. The door is open so I stand just outside. I don’t want to end up seeing something I shouldn’t. “Kolton?” I ask again.

“Come in,” he says, his voice low, quiet.

When I turn into the doorjamb, I see him leaning on the edge of the sink holding a blue towel stippled with blood. My impulse is to jump forward and help him, but he winces, moving his arm away from me.

“Is it bad?” I ask, putting my hands up to show him I’ll stay back, give him space.

He looks up at me, his eyes darting to my white shirt and shorts, then quickly away. I cross my arms over my chest.

“She’s right, Mia,” he says, staring at the blood embedded in the towel.

“About?”

“I’m empty. I didn’t love her, or any of them. Not like—”

“You don’t have to explain. Just let me take a look at the cut—okay?” He shrugs and I move closer, taking his hand in mine and peeling the blue kitchen towel away, revealing a long, deep gash in the crook of his palm. “You should go to the emergency room.”