1. Elle
1
ELLE
S o this was my life now…
At one point everything the world had to offer was at my fingertips, but now… Now, I wasn’t sure if I’d even have a place to lay my head tomorrow. Maybe another rent-by-the-hour motel. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with me.
It was just a question of which “them” would be the first to find me.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d cried what felt like a gallon of tears over the past few days then I’d be breaking down into a sobbing mess as I opened the door to the dingy motel room I’d paid cash for. This wasn’t the type of place that gave a shit about ID. It was more the place where every unsavory character in the city came to rest—among other things.
A moldy smell assaulted my nostrils, making me gag a little as I stepped inside. The carpets were so old you could see the wear of feet from the doorway, around the bed, and moving toward the bathroom.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen. My arrest seemed to take my career from successful to a degree of infamy no success could ever garner. It had my face plastered here—plastered worldwide. Oh, how Hollywood and the paparazzi loved a scandal. Just months ago I was at a photoshoot, adorned with expensive jewels, and being told how stunning and lucky I was while waiting for the shooting of my latest movie. The sky was the limit.
And today.
Today, I was on the run after not showing up for my trial.
It had been a stupid and impulsive thing. Partially fueled by fear of being convicted and being hauled off to jail, but also fueled by the fact that my defense revolved around exposing people that no one in their right mind would expose.
I was in a lose-lose situation.
So I ran. At least on the run I had a fighting chance.
Perhaps even a chance to figure out a way to achieve my freedom. Although going back to my old life, even if I could get out of this mess seemed like an impossibility.
I scanned the tiny room. There was a little double bed with a faded floral blanket that looked like it was something straight out of the 80s. Probably has bed bugs, among other things. Closing the door, I slipped the heavy duffel bag off my shoulder and then shrugged my backpack off my back, placing them both on the bed. There was no bounce as the bags fell onto the bed, just a soft thud sound. No more luxurious cloud-soft mattresses or Egyptian cotton sheets.
But I was still alive and not in prison. That had to count for something—didn’t it?
Pulling back the blanket, I breathed a sigh of relief. The white sheets looked clean and just out of the wash crisp. Clean sheets and another day of freedom. I’d take it.
After showering in the surprisingly clean shower, I pulled on a hoodie and leggings, pulling the hood of the hoodie up and over my head. I hadn’t worn make-up since I made a run for it. Lucky for me, the images of me on the billboards and on television were an illusion of who I was. Without the magic of make-up artists, I could almost pass as an entirely different person.
Opening the duffel bag, I grabbed a fistful of bills equaling a few hundred dollars and stuffed them into my purse. Food. I’d get something quick to eat at the diner down the road and back to my room. After a good night’s sleep, I’d figure out my next move.
ELLE
Lifting my fist and knocking on the burgundy-colored door of the bungalow, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Maine, was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had no other choice. She was my last resort and I knew I had a fifty/fifty shot that she’d slam the door in my face and call the police. I could only hope that she was a better person than I would be if the roles were reversed.
A dog barked inside the tiny home and I gripped the handle of my leather duffel bag a little tighter. I had money. A lot of it. Life changing for most. If she wouldn’t do it for me then maybe she’d see the financial benefit was good enough to house a bail jumper.
You should have just turned yourself in. A voice nagged me at the back of my mind.
It was probably right. I hadn’t thought this through, but what was the alternative? The police were only one of several groups of people looking for me. It was the people who owned the money I’d stolen that I was really scared of. It wasn’t all theirs, but enough of it that they’d discover it missing soon enough. If they didn’t want to kill me to keep me quiet, then they’d absolutely kill me over the money.
One bad decision after another.
I swear I was the queen of poor life choices.
But for a while there, for too brief of a time, I had everything I ever dreamed of having and more.
I’d get it back. I’d get the life I’d worked so hard to build for myself back, I just had to figure out how. Without keeping the faith that I’d get my life back, it would be hard to keep moving on.
I just needed time.
Just as I was lifting my hand to knock a second time the door flung open and my older sister of two years stared at me. “Ella.” Sophie huffed. She gave her head a shake and began to close the door on me when a tiny black dog bolted from inside and began trotting its way down the walkway intent on making it to the road.
Dropping the duffel bag, I chased after the little guy catching up with him when he took a moment to lift his leg on the waist-high white fence that surrounded her small property. Snatching him up just as he was finishing his pee, I held him tight to my chest as I made my way back to the house.
“I have him. Don’t worry.” I flashed her a smile hoping she would see that I came in peace and have some pity on me.
“You need to leave, or I’ll call the police.”
“Come on Sophie, please, I’m your sister. Give me a chance to explain.”
“What is there to explain? You’re an addict and you’re going to go to prison. Being here could get me in deep shit.” She stepped out onto the cement doorstep and looked over my shoulder as if expecting the cops to be hot on my heels.
“I didn’t do it.”
She huffed, looking back at me. Snatching her little chihuahua from my arms, she threw me a dirty look. “That’s the story of your life, Ella. You never did it. Never you. Nothing is ever Elle’s Fault. It’s always someone else’s fault. Your face is everywhere. You need to leave.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I shook my head. “I’m not going until you give me a chance.”
“What’s stopping me from calling the cops right this instant?”
“I have an offer for you that I promise you won’t be able to refuse.” Picking up the bag, I unzipped it a few inches showing her the stacks of cash inside.
“Dammit Elle!”
I could have sworn I heard a growl as she tucked her dog under her arm and with her free hand grabbed me by the arm and roughly pulled me inside. Hugging the duffel bag tight to my chest, I entered and scooted out of the way before she slammed the door behind me, locking it.