Chapter 21
Twenty-One
“Okay, I give up. Where are we going?”
Keir looks at me from the driver’s seat of his sleek black sedan, arching an eyebrow. “What, don’t you like secrets?”
I push my cheek out with my tongue and try to tamp down on my frustration. It seems to only fire him up and so I keep my voice perfectly calm and level.
“If I remember correctly, we came in from the opposite direction when we arrived from Glasgow. So I’m just wondering now where we could be headed.”
He gives me a tiny infuriating smirk. “If you must know, we’re headed to air.”
“Air?” I echo back to him, puzzled. “Either I don’t understand your accent or you’re using a new kind of slang that I’ve never heard of.”
“Since when do I seem like the kind of guy to use slang? What am I, lowborn?” He rolls his eyes. “It’s a small town of about 50,000 people. And you’re right, we’re headed in the opposite direction from Glasgow. Look, you can see Air appearing over the horizon now.”
Before I can even stop myself, I snap a reply. “You don’t have to be lowborn to use slang. Everybody knows that. Except for you, I guess.”
He glares at me but I turn to look out the window.
True to Keir’s word, Air begins to take shape, a large city spilling down the side of a mountain and the sea stretching out its stretch of grayish blue before it.
It’s pretty awe inspiring, especially since this is the first city I’ve seen in a couple of weeks.
“I love a city as much as any girl can. Probably more. But is there a particular reason that you are bringing me to the city today? You just came stomping down the stairs and told me to get in the car while Saffron watches Isla.”
He glances away and shrugs, his teasing seemingly dropping away. “I just thought you would be up for an adventure, that’s all."
“Oh,” I nod slowly, watching as the car starts across a waterway seemingly floating over the ocean. As we approach the city, I choose my words carefully. “Thanks for thinking of me, at least.”
His lips twist. “Just trying to prove that I’m in fact capable of thinking of someone other than myself.”
A laugh bubbles to my lips. I watch as we exit the bridge, turning right onto a narrow road that creeps along the shore just below the city.
Above us, buildings tower, the city skyline rising quite sharply for almost farther than I can see.
It feels almost dangerous to pull the car to a stop right here, but that is exactly what Keir does.
He jumps out of the car and leaves the keys inside, not even bothering to wait for me or gesture for me to get out of the car. After a moment, I climb out and scurry after him, eyeing the line of heavy buildings as Keir approaches a set of stairs that lead up toward a busy city plaza.
Behind us, someone gets in the car and drives it away. Keir doesn’t even seem the least bit worried about it, so I guess I shouldn’t be either.
He makes it up the stairs going two at a time and turns back to stare at me. I blush furiously and bow my head as I hobble up the stairs. Ever since I broke my leg, stairs have really been my secret enemy.
I make it my mission to get to the top of the stairs without wincing or making any expression at all. It’s difficult, to say the least. By the time I arrive, beads of sweat have broken out across my brow and I can feel a little sweat gathering just below the nape of my neck too.
Luckily, I think that the short dark cotton dress I’m sporting will hide any sweat. Or I hope so, anyway.
When I make it up onto the landing of the stairs, Keir grabs my elbow and steers me right, obviously heading somewhere.
I’m too busy taking in the surroundings to put up much of a fight.
People are going about their day-to-day lives, zipping to and fro in their cars and getting in and out of vehicles parked on the side street.
A couple hundred yards away from the stairs is an impressive row of shops, the first floor is dedicated to retail while the second floor of every building looks residential in nature.
I see a floral shop, a rather expensive dress boutique, and a whimsical candy shop just in front of us.
My brows rise lately. Where is it that Keir is taking me?
Keir doesn’t seem to even think about that; he clearly has some place in mind.
I drag my eyes away from the young woman giving her two children pieces of pizza as she walks down the street. “Where are we going?” I ask Keir.
He quirks his brow. “You haven’t guessed?”
I give my head a little shake, examining the shops again. My gaze catches on a lingerie store that I hadn’t previously seen. Keir almost certainly didn’t bring me here to buy myself lingerie though. He probably hasn’t even ever thought once about women’s undergarments and whether or not they exist.
“We’ll be there soon enough,” he says roughly.
I swallow and glance at him, my heart racing a little bit.
In all my nineteen years of life, I have nothing that has prepared me for this experience.
I hope he doesn’t plan to have me pay for anything, because my bank account at New York City Savings and Loan still only has $600 in it.
I haven’t cashed the last two paychecks that I received from the ballet but I have a sinking feeling that I’m going to have to wire that money to my roommates sooner rather than later.
We walk down past several more shops, a hat store and a toy store and the pizzeria that the woman was feeding her children from. At last, Keir pulls me to a stop in front of a particular store. I look up at it, my brow furrowed.
“Tamar’s,” I read quietly. In the window displays on either side of me, I see several chicly dressed yet modest mannequins, all in boring earth tones. It kind of reminds me of a place that my mom really likes to shop in Atlanta. Upscale, but definitely age-appropriate to the generation before me.
Squinting at Keir, I tilt my head. “What is this?”
Keir eyes me coolly. “I thought you could use some new clothes.”
I arch a brow at him. “Oh yeah? Based on what exactly?”
His expression betrays a hint of annoyance. His upper lip lifts in a hint of a snare. “You don’t seem to own anything that covers any more than your upper thighs. I’m doing you a favor. Trust me. Now come on.”
He takes my upper arm and pulls me roughly.
My heart jumps at the grip he has on me. I can’t stop myself from reaching out with my free hand and pushing him back half a step. His face twitches and he growls at me.
Backing me up a half step toward the building, he moves aggressively and quickly. “Listen to me, Ella…”
He is about to chew me out. I have heard the tone before, in my own father, the teachers that would get angry whenever I failed to complete their assignments, in the faces of angry customers when I had that part time job as a hostess at an upscale restaurant.
His bearing changes, his posture stiffens, and he gets an all knowing, superior look in his eyes.
But just as his lips part, a woman’s voice coughs so delicately that it surprises both of us.
We step to the side, looking at her, surprise on both of our faces.
She smiles and peers at Keir, clearly recognizing him.
“Lord Grayrose. It’s so nice to see you again, out and about this time.
No pesky private land rules here.” She smiles widely and glances at me meaningfully.
“And you must be Ella.” She sticks her hand out and moves toward me. “So nice to meet you.”
My honest first instinct is to shrink back from her approach rather than shake her hand.
She’s smiling all right. But there is a menacing gleam to her eyes and a saccharine flavor to her over-niceness.
As I call back protectively, Keir pushes me behind his body, suddenly aggressively protecting me.
I am awestruck because just a second ago he was about ready to rip off my head.
But now, he looks like he would do real harm to anyone foolish enough to lay hands on me.
This is the first time I have ever been in this situation and it honestly turns me on in a way that I didn’t know was even possible. I flush and breathe shallowly, my eyes darting back-and-forth between the stranger and Keir.
“I would step back if I were you,” Keir tells her. His entire demeanor is menacing, his posture like he is ready to brawl.
I put my hand on his arm, knowing that I don’t stand a chance if he actually decides to take a swing at this lady. She smiles beatifically at us both, bringing out a pad of paper and a pen.
“I was hoping to run into you guys,” she says.
“You see, I have a lot more questions about Max and his death. The things he saw, what he did leading up to his untimely murder, and of course the connection between you two that seemed to interest him so much.” She clicks her pen, giving me a devilish smile. “Ella, any thoughts on any of that?”
I blink convulsively and my fingernails dig into Keir’s arm. He shoots me a tiny look of disappointment and then pushes me another inch behind him, standing his ground.
“No comment. Like I said before, I think you should leave.”
She rolls her eyes but never loses her upbeat smile. “Keir! You know that this is a public sidewalk. You can’t ask me to leave. I have as much right to be here as you do.”
He stands so still for a few seconds that I think he might actually hit her. Obviously she thinks so, too, because she steps back, holding up her notepad and pen.
“Well? What do you have to say? You know you might as well just tell me what the secret is that you’re hiding from me.
Because your girl there? She looks guilty as hell.
And when the secret eventually comes out, I will purposely make it as painful and as dramatic as possible.
I’m a journalist, so you know that I’ll make sure it hurts you both.
That is, unless you have anything that you want to tell me… ”
My eyes widen. This woman is a journalist? God, no wonder Keir bristled when she came into view. I wet my lips and try to slow down my breathing, which is practically hyperventilating by now.
The woman leans closer and extends her hand toward me, holding out a business card. Before I can take it, Keir slaps it out of her hand and growls.
“I said no comments. That’s what I meant. And if you don’t hightail it out of here, I am going to call the police. Trust me, I donate millions to the police fund every year. They won’t think twice about slapping a pair of handcuffs on you.”
The journalist’s smile falters and for the first time, she looks a little worried. She squints at Keir and then tosses her head.
“Ella? I don’t know what this guy has told you. But he has the craziest history I’ve ever had the displeasure of researching. When you get tired of being lied to and manipulated, you should call me. My name is Wendy Allen.”
She extends another business card and Keir pushes me backward, so threatening that he makes her back up. He glances at me and jerks his head toward the shop.
“Get inside,” he rumbles. “I’ll be in very soon when this woman is gone.”
I realize then that I am physically shaking. Glancing helplessly at Wendy, I press my lips together. There are things that I could tell her, things that may help her figure out who and why Max got killed.
I can tell her exactly how it felt to stand there and watch as the SUV ran him over.
But my question is, will any of that help? Or will it just make her double down on the connection between myself and Keir? There is honestly no way to know.
“Ella?” she asks.
“Ella, get inside the fucking shop. Let me deal with us.” Keir grits out.
I take a shaking step back and then turn, swinging open the last door.
The owner and the shops only employee are right there, asking if I need water or any other assistance.
If I had to guess, I would say that they heard a large portion of what just transpired.
I push off their offers of help and wander through the store, pretending to look at clothes.
But inside, I am a mess of jitters. I’ve been questioning why Keir has bothered to keep me here all this time. But today I just met the reason… And her name is Wendy. I swallow and flip through the rocks, my mind a thousand miles away.