18. Elena
Plunging the spoon back into the pint of ice cream, I attempt to drown my sorrow yet again. Trixie sits next to me with her own pint of ice cream, providing solace and company in my indecision and heartbreak. I knew Liam had a temper. I’ve seen it flare up at times, but never this badly. Never to the point of violence against someone, and now I’m not sure what to think. Warren said some very incriminating things about him, and at first, I didn’t believe them. Now, I’m inclined to think he may be right.
“Look at the bright side. At least you know now?” Trixie is less comforting than she thinks she is as she waves her spoon around in the air and talks with her mouth full of food. In the past few weeks, we’ve gotten closer, especially with Nina gone, but when she saw what happened last night and Warren asked me if I wanted him to come home with me, I insisted that Trixie would be more helpful.
He wasn’t happy about it at all, but I don’t know if I’m ready to cut Liam off. I don’t know if what Warren said is true or if Liam just got his buttons pushed. Warren is good at that. He does it to me all the time, so I can see him saying things that trigger Liam’s sensitive temper switch. And besides, how would I explain that to Liam if he found out the man he pummeled in a fit of rage came home with me?
“Know what?” I grumble and shove a heaping spoonful of rocky road into my mouth. All I know is two men duked it out over me, and now I’m certain Warren still has a crush on me.
“You know what sort of man Liam is. He literally attacked Warren for no reason.” Trixie takes another bite of ice cream and shifts her weight on my pull-out sofa. She stayed last night after the show to keep me company, and we’ve spent the majority of the day on this uncomfortable bed watching movies and playing cards to pass the time. We have to get ready for tonight’s show later.
“That’s not what Liam says, and I don’t know what to believe. Warren has a way of saying things to provoke people. You know that.” Trixie should know better than anyone. She has feelings for Warren. Everyone can see it, even if Warren doesn’t. She knows his personality is abrasive and caustic.
“Okay, well you know he has no control over his temper, at least.” Her spoon scrapes the bottom of the ice cream container and comes up empty, and she sets the container on the end table. “I’m just saying, you can’t be too careful. Warren knows a lot of stuff about the city, so I don’t think he’s lying. If he says that guy is into organized crime, then he is.” She wipes her mouth with her thumb and index finger and shrugs a shoulder at me.
I’m annoyed that she’s taking Warren’s side, but I don’t blame her. Her personality is abrasive and over the top, but she is a good person. I can tell she’s only trying to help. Why else would she offer to sit at my house and console me for more than twelve hours post-show?
“I don’t know what to think. All I know is really scary things keep happening around me, and now I have this stalker person sending me increasingly scary letters.” I pout and thrust the half-empty ice cream container out to her, and she takes it. I can’t take another bite. I feel sick to my stomach with worry. “There is a connection. I just know it. I just want to feel safe again.”
I flop onto my side and jam the pillow under my head, and the squeaking mattress bounces a little. Trixie takes my spoon and begins eating what’s left of my ice cream. She can have it. I’m not really hungry, anyway. My heart is broken. I really like Liam. In fact, I think I’m really in love with him. He’s sweet and kind and funny, and he cares about me. I can tell. It’s not every day you find a supportive partner like him. He comes to every show.
“We have some time before we have to leave. Let’s watch another show.” Trixie doesn’t even wait for me to respond in the affirmative. She reaches for the remote on the end table and turns the TV on again.
We’ve already watched three rom-coms today, and if I have to watch another sappy love story where they get a happily ever after, I’m going to scream. I’ve been pretty steady, not crying too much over this, but my heart does feel broken. I’ve ignored several calls from Liam today. He left a message apologizing for hurting Warren and offering to pay his medical bills. That’s sweet, but I’m not sure Warren would allow him to do it.
Still, I haven’t seen Warren doing anything to make things better. He hasn’t called me to find out if I am feeling better or even sent a text to ask if I’m okay. He’s just steamed that I let Trixie come over. She wasn’t exactly my biggest fan from the beginning—he was—and with the stress of the show, and the random, scary events going on, on top of the sale of the theater, Warren is acting more and more like my big brother.
I squirm around on the bed until I can see the TV screen. Trixie flicks through the channels between bites of ice cream. She stops momentarily on a news network while she shoves the rest of the pint into her mouth. The newscaster is talking about the accident that took Nina’s life. When Trixie moves to change the channel, I lay my hand on her thigh and shake my head.
“Leave it,” I tell her, and she does.
The report goes on, showing pictures of the massive truck that slammed into the car she was riding in. I saw a few pictures on the news previously, but none this graphic. I’m shocked she didn’t die instantly. There isn’t much left of the car after the dump truck crushed the tiny sedan against a light pole, nearly slicing it in half.
And when the news lady says they have a suspect for what is now being considered a potential homicide investigation, I sit straight up and find myself feeling dizzy. My head swims and my eyes feel blurry. Maybe I sat up too fast, or maybe I’m overwhelmed, but I swear it’s Liam’s picture on the screen under the headline, Suspect in Custody.
“What the fuck?” I mumble, and Trixie’s hand rises to point the remote at the TV. I can’t stop her. She clicks it off, and I snatch the remote from her grasp to turn it back on, but she holds my wrist.
“Don’t, Elena. You saw it. That’s enough. You don’t want to hear that. It will break your heart.”
“Liam could never,” I whimper, wrestling the remote away from her, but by the time I turn the news back on, the report is over. They’ve moved on to something else. “What the actual fuck is going on, Trixie?” I feel my guts churning. Liam? To blame for that accident? But how? He was with me.
“I don’t know, Lena. But I told you Warren knows his shit about this city. He grew up on the streets, you know? If he says Liam is a crime boss, he is.” She sets the ice cream container to the side and tosses the remote across the room into the armchair after shutting the TV off.
”It can’t be true. This is some mistake. I spent so much time with him. I know him.” Is Liam my stalker, then? Is he the one sending those notes? But why would he come to all my shows and give me the highest praise if he were the one wanting me gone? It doesn’t make sense.
“I gotta pee. Please, don’t turn that TV back on. You don’t want to put yourself through that. Just call the police and report it, and cut off all ties with him. You can come stay at my place for a while. Fuck, even Warren will let you stay with him.”
The thought of that creeps me out entirely. I can’t stay with him. I don’t want Liam to hurt him, but I don’t like him at all, not even as a friend anymore. I wrestle with those thoughts as Trixie walks away, and then my phone starts to ring.
I avoid it for a second, thinking it must be Liam calling me again, but when I untangle the blankets and find it to make it stop ringing, I see it’s my mom calling. I answer right away with a flood of relief just to hear her voice.
“Hey, baby, how are you doing? How was the show last night?”
I hesitate to say much of anything to her because if I tell her the full truth, what I fear, what I’ve just seen on the news, she’ll drive all the way here and drag me home. She’s my mom, and I know she wants what’s best for me, but she worries a lot too.
“Hey, Mom.” I lace my tone with as much “chill” as I can muster, given how emotional I’ve been. It probably makes me sound halfway normal, though she’s my mom. She knows me pretty well.
“How’s that thing going? The one you mentioned… Did you tell someone?”
Mentioning the frightening letters to her was a mistake. She’s probably been obsessing about this for weeks now, stewing and wondering when she can ask me about it. She probably thinks I’ve been hiding it from her, and I have. I don’t want her to be angry with me when I tell her under no circumstances am I leaving New York. I can’t be intimidated by these things, or these people. Not even a crime boss.
My dream is to make it big on Broadway and somehow find a way to the silver screen. Lots of actresses have done it, though they all fought hard on their own. Someone seems to be pulling strings or manipulating my way toward the top—at least it seems that way. It feels like maybe Liam is trying to control things, but they’re getting out of control. I just don’t understand why he’d send the threatening letters too. Unless that is his way of trying to make me fear someone else so I’ll cling to him. But it’s not working.
“I… uh, I told Mr. Flemming and Mr. Monroe. They are looking into it.” I don’t know if the news of Mr. Flemming’s death and the resale of the theater have gotten to Ohio yet, but it’s not a lie. I did tell them, and that is what they said to me when I did.
“You should just come home, baby. Just take a short break until they figure out who’s doing this and you’re safe.” I can hear how she bites her lip when she’s talking to me, and it hurts my heart to disappoint her.
“Mom, I’m not coming home. I have a lead in this week’s show, and it goes for two weeks, and I have the lead after that too. There’s no time.” I glance up at Trixie as she walks back into the room and plops across the foot of the bed, propping herself on an elbow to stare at me. “Can I call you later? I have a friend over.”
“A friend? Please tell me you’re not having a man sleep over with you. What if he’s the stalker?” The drama in her tone makes me roll my eyes.
“Her name is Trixie, Mom.” I shake my head, and Trixie snickers.
“Hey, Mom!” she calls, and I hear Mom huff out a sigh.
“Alright, well don’t make me have to call you back. You call me when your friend leaves.”
I hang up with only good intentions, and the relief I felt when hearing my mom’s voice dissipates. As much comfort as it brings me to think of home and the safety of relative obscurity, New York is my home now and this is my job. The very first time I mentioned a stalker to anyone, they assured me this was part of this lifestyle, so I’m determined to just keep plowing through.
If it’s Liam, I’m not sure how to fight that. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know people like him usually know people on the police force. The last thing I want to do is anger him. But if it’s not him, this game I’m playing by pushing him away is going to piss him off, anyway, and if he really is a crime boss like Warren says, that’s not something I want to do.
“Want to go out for lunch before we go to the theater?” I ask Trixie, who is already up and getting her clothes.
“You know I don’t say no to food.”
It’s just what I need. A distraction to keep my mind off things. I really hope Liam doesn’t show up tonight.