Chapter 9
Ishika
Ibuilt an image of Brent in my mind because it’s easy. He ticked all the right boxes that fit in with my aspirations. Handsome. Rich. Educated from an Ivy League school. Exceptional lineage. Good genes. He respects me. He makes me feel safe. What else did I want from a partner, a future husband?
I won’t lie, I like the luxury money can buy. I like the social status that comes with my father’s name. I don’t have to worry about credit card bills or where I will live if I don’t have a job tomorrow because my father will take care of it. Money makes life easy, right?
I thought I could be in love with Brent. He fit perfectly in the picture frame beside my dad, along with the rest of my family. That image was great until a few minutes ago. Until I saw Brent for who he really was. A coward. A bully.
The harsh reality hits me in the face. I don’t like that frame of him with my family anymore. I hate that I tried to fit Brent in next to my father, who is undeniably my hero. Dad would never belittle people and play with their vulnerabilities.
Brent displays a smug smile on his face, satisfied with himself as he starts his car. He shifts his car into the street, heading toward my home.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“Ishy, he’s a worthless piece of shit.”
“And you? What would you call yourself for stooping so low? Why did you do it, Brent? Did you really need to hurt him like this to make yourself appear bigger?”
“You’ve lost your mind. I did nothing but save you. Harper should know he can’t have a girl like you. I put him in his place. That’s what he deserved.”
“I saw what you did. I saw you take his wallet and throw it away. You brought his dead father into your stupid fight just to make him relive that horrible memory again. He didn’t deserve it, Brent. And I did nothing to stop you. I’m just as horrible as you are.”
My hands are trembling, my eyes sting with unshed tears. I did this to Ryan. I watched while Brent ridiculed and insulted him about his dead father. I am just as pathetic as Brent.
“I need to fix this. I wanna go back.” My voice shakes as I control my emotions.
“Ishy, everything about his dad is true. His mother was a drug addict, God knows she probably still is. Do you really want to be with him? He got what he deserves.”
“Oh my God, are you even listening to yourself. Just shut up, Brent,” I scream.
I have never spoken to Brent like this. He is shocked but my temper has better things to tackle than to pay heed to him. “Take me to Ryan or I swear to God, I’ll jump out of this car and walk to him myself. Now.”
“Okay. I’ll turn back. I’ll drive you back if that’s what you want.” He takes a U-turn and drives back to the restaurant.
I jump out of his car, even before it comes to a complete halt, and run over to the bushes first. Switching on my phone light, my hunt begins.
The thorns in the bushes dig into the skin of my arms and legs as I venture farther into the thick green, wild shrubbery, the tears clog my throat as my search gets me nowhere.
The armpits of my dress are soaked in sweat and my hair is sticking to my face.
I feel hot and flustered but I have to find his wallet.
If only I knew what it looks like. I bend down, crouch over on the mud, and hear the ripping sound as the skirt of my dress gets tangled in a branch, tearing the lace near my knees.
I inhale and push back my tears. I need to right the wrong no matter how long it takes me.
I turn to remove my dress from the thorns when the light from my phone falls on the brown leather camouflage with dried orange leaves.
Laughter bubbles from my chest as I pick up the wallet and clutch it to my chest. I am sure I look like a madwoman when I run into the crowded restaurant again and almost tumble into a waitstaff.
“Hi, do you know the man I came in with earlier, is he is still here?” I ask to the hostess.
“Eh. No. I have no idea.”
“Can you please find out? His name is Ryan Harper. The manager said he knows him.”
“I know Ryan.” A man walks out from behind the cash register desk.
“Do you know where I can find him?” The guy looks unsure. “It’s urgent. Please.”
“My guess is he is probably at his kingdom.”
“What?” I say. I probably heard him wrong.
“It’s on the other side of the town. I wouldn’t suggest you go there alone though. That place is not right for a woman like you.”
I don’t have the time to argue as to what he means by “woman like me.” All I want is the damn address.
“I’ll take you there,” Brent offers from behind. “I know where he is.”
I am about to tell Brent to get lost but he adds, “Look, I’m not leaving you alone. That neighborhood is crime central. Let me take you to Ryan.”
Brent and I don’t say a word to each other as I get into his Porsche and drive for the next thirty minutes, until we enter a suburb with dim lit streets and run-down houses.
“You can always talk to him tomorrow,” Brent suggests.
“Drop me off and leave.”
“Ishy, can you please talk to me for a minute?”
“No. I’m appalled by what you did. How do you live with yourself after that?”
His car enters a once gated warehouse-looking area. The large rusted metal gates are unmanned and left wide open. A gravel path leads us ahead to a larger opening and I see the lights coming from a distance.
“‘The Kingdom’ is an old furniture warehouse that went under a decade ago and it’s been abandoned since. Ryan and his friends hang out here from time to time. If I sense it’s unsafe, we’ll leave immediately. No arguments. Shit, I think I should call for backup,” Brent says, pulling out his phone.
“No. I am here to apologize, not cause a scene. Please don’t mess this up any more.”
Brent takes a deep breath and nods. He puts his car in park and I scan the perimeter.
It’s like a scene from an apocalyptic movie.
This place is abandoned, separated from the rest of the town.
At a far end stands an old building where the once whitewashed exterior is now moldy gray with patches of moss sticking to the walls.
On the other side are huge rusting metal containers.
The grass around us is dried and burned with tire tracks imprints.
The only green that survives here are the weeds that grow haphazardly.
At a distance, there are stairs that rise to the actual warehouse.
I can read the old signage – Kingdom Furniture.
However, with the course of time or perhaps a human’s meddling the letters from the word Furniture have fallen off the signage. The only word that survives is Kingdom.
Someone’s gone through the trouble of hanging a few neon lights here and there.
The people scattered around are clearly having a good time.
This is a cheaper version of a nightclub.
There is a low hum of music coming from somewhere and almost everyone has a beverage in their hands.
Beer cans, Solo cups, and wine bottles litter the place.
A guy gives me a lecherous look and calls me Sugar, as I navigate through the crowd. The girls around me laugh when I flinch at his remark.
My heart thumps harder as my gaze swims through the sea of people to get to the one man whose dimpled smile is all I desire in this moment.
He sits alone on the very top of the stairs, his arm resting on his one folded knee, and a bottle of beer dancing from his fingertips.
The back of his head rests on the metal railing and he stares at the dark sky, lost in deep thoughts.
But even in his pensive state, there is no mistaking that he is the king sitting on his throne and this is his kingdom of ruins.
On the step below sits a couple. The girl stares at me, whispering something to the man sitting next to her. He flashes me a hateful glare.
When I take a step forward, two men step in line, sneering and baring their teeth while blocking my way. Their gaze is locked on Brent not me.
My instincts tell me I should turn back and go home.
My heart tells a different story.
I gulp and look at Brent for help. But he is hesitant and ready to bail out any minute now. I don’t blame Brent. He should run.
As if the savage knows I am here, Ryan tilts his face, searching his territory. A blink is all it takes for him to find me.
A mad rush overtakes me to get to him as fast as I can. I don’t care if I have to scream and scuffle a dozen men to reach my destination. My feet stride, hurriedly pushing the men out of my way. I am panting when I finally make it to the bottom of the stairs.
“You left. I didn’t know where to find you. I didn’t know where to go. What the hell, Ryan? Next time you better not leave. You’re not allowed to do this to me.” I charge at him as if I am the one wronged. Like I have the right to complain.
This is not a tantrum. No one knows how difficult it is for me to keep it together. How desperately I want to erase what occurred between Brent and Ryan.
Everyone around us goes silent, an audience waiting to witness the wreckage of my heart.
“Go home,” Ryan says cold and commanding.
“I want to talk,” I counter.
He rises and steps down the stairs until there is only a step between us. A single step that feels like a mountain separating him from me.
“I’m done talking, Princess.” Ryan is loud enough for Brent, for everyone around us to hear every word shared between us. He is putting on a show. He is about to do what I asked him to at the end of our pretend relationship.
Fuck! He’s going to break my heart.
“You’re too fuckin’ high maintenance, Princess. It’s always don’t fuckin’ do this or I’m not allowed to fuckin’ do that. It’s never enough. Ishika, you and me, we are very different people.”
My eyes gloss over and I struggle, trying to stop my hands from shaking. I reach for him, gripping his hand tight. My throat catches the emotions building inside me, making a lump so hard to swallow. My lips tremble as I push back the tears threatening to spill.