The Virgin
Page 15
Sam wasn’t angry, wasn’t hurt. She just knew it was time for them both to move on. Sam told him she loved him and then gave her two weeks’ notice and started packing for LA.
His sister was dead because of his love for Søren.
His Sam was gone to California because of his love for Elle.
His Elle was gone because of his love for his stupid foolish dream to have children, a dream he put before her.
They were all gone. Maybe they were on to something.
Kingsley thought about going back home, but he couldn’t face Søren right now. Søren was nearly catatonic with shock when they’d last spoken. “You’ll find her,” was all Søren had said to him before the first phone call from Daniel had come. They’d been sitting in the music room, Søren at the piano but not playing.
Kingsley had nodded. “I’ll find her.”
He wanted to ask Søren “Why did she leave?” but he also didn’t want to ask it. Søren might tell him, and the last thing Kingsley needed was to hear what fate Kingsley had abandoned Elle to. Søren out of control was a sight as rare as a volcano erupting and nearly as terrifying.
It would be easy to find her. She’d stolen Daniel’s car. All he had to do was call a few contacts in the police department with a description of the vehicle. In a few hours they’d know which direction she’d gone. From there they could extrapolate her likeliest destination. If she used one of the credit cards, they could pinpoint her whereabouts precisely. A quick jaunt on an airplane to wherever she’d gone and by tomorrow night she’d be back in Manhattan whether she wanted to be or not.
He could find her. Easily. Søren had asked him to find her, and he couldn’t tell Søren no. He wasn’t strong enough to tell him no, and he would fail her again as he’d failed himself. Over and over in his head he cursed himself. He’d gotten her pregnant and then abandoned her to deal with it on her own. Then she’d faced Søren on her own. And Kingsley had the shard of carved bone in his back pocket to prove that conversation had not gone well. He’d never met a stronger woman in his life, a woman as free and as fearless as she. If she said Søren had crossed a line with her, Kingsley believed her.
Kingsley owed her. She’d fled somewhere—he didn’t know where but he assumed she’d picked a place she felt safe. What right did he have taking her away from there if that’s where she wanted to be? But he would do it, and he would do it for Søren, and he would do it because she’d become such a part of his life he couldn’t imagine waking another morning to find her gone.
If Kingsley went back to the town house right now he’d call all his contacts and find her. Søren would be sitting there, waiting, depending on Kingsley to find her.
But.
But if he didn’t go back to his town house...
Kingsley pulled his mobile phone out of his jacket and dialed a number.
“Don’t speak,” Kingsley said before his assistant could say a word.
Silence was his answer. Good.
“Answer the next question I ask you only with a yes or a no. You understand?” Kingsley asked.
“Yes,” Calliope said. Her voice was calm, controlled. She betrayed nothing. He’d trained her well.
“Is he there?”
“No.”
“No?” Kingsley repeated. “Good. Now you can talk. Did he tell you where he went?”
“No,” Calliope said. “He told me to tell you he had an idea where she might be. Then he got on his motorcycle and drove away.”
Kingsley’s brow furrowed as he leaned back against the lockers.
“He’s not going to get her back,” Kingsley said.
“Are you going to find her then?”
Kingsley didn’t answer. He had a decision to make. Calliope made it for him.
“She wouldn’t leave him without a good reason, right?” she asked. “She wouldn’t leave him unless she had to. I know her. I know how much she loves him.”
“So do I,” Kingsley said.
“Did he hurt her? Like in the bad way?” Calliope asked, her voice awash in fear and confusion. Kingsley could sympathize.
Kingsley didn’t answer.
“King?”
He had a decision to make. He made it now.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” she said.
“I need you to move into the town house. Someone needs to take care of the dogs. Can you do that for me?”
“I practically live here anyway. Dad’s not going to be thrilled, but I’m eighteen. Not much he can do about it. Sure. Anything you need.”
“You can have any room that isn’t mine or isn’t hers. There’s ten grand in cash in my bottom desk drawer. The combination is—”
“I know the combination.”
“How?”
“You hired me because I’m the sort of girl who knows combinations, remember?”
“Good point.” He almost laughed. He did know how to pick an assistant.
“Shut the house down. Close it. Cancel all the parties. Cancel everything, even the newspaper.”
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.
“Yes. I have to leave the country. Don’t tell him I’m going. I’m not going to tell you where I’m going so you don’t have to lie when he asks you. The truth is, I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t know when I’m coming back. But you can handle things while I’m gone. Yes?”
His sister was dead because of his love for Søren.
His Sam was gone to California because of his love for Elle.
His Elle was gone because of his love for his stupid foolish dream to have children, a dream he put before her.
They were all gone. Maybe they were on to something.
Kingsley thought about going back home, but he couldn’t face Søren right now. Søren was nearly catatonic with shock when they’d last spoken. “You’ll find her,” was all Søren had said to him before the first phone call from Daniel had come. They’d been sitting in the music room, Søren at the piano but not playing.
Kingsley had nodded. “I’ll find her.”
He wanted to ask Søren “Why did she leave?” but he also didn’t want to ask it. Søren might tell him, and the last thing Kingsley needed was to hear what fate Kingsley had abandoned Elle to. Søren out of control was a sight as rare as a volcano erupting and nearly as terrifying.
It would be easy to find her. She’d stolen Daniel’s car. All he had to do was call a few contacts in the police department with a description of the vehicle. In a few hours they’d know which direction she’d gone. From there they could extrapolate her likeliest destination. If she used one of the credit cards, they could pinpoint her whereabouts precisely. A quick jaunt on an airplane to wherever she’d gone and by tomorrow night she’d be back in Manhattan whether she wanted to be or not.
He could find her. Easily. Søren had asked him to find her, and he couldn’t tell Søren no. He wasn’t strong enough to tell him no, and he would fail her again as he’d failed himself. Over and over in his head he cursed himself. He’d gotten her pregnant and then abandoned her to deal with it on her own. Then she’d faced Søren on her own. And Kingsley had the shard of carved bone in his back pocket to prove that conversation had not gone well. He’d never met a stronger woman in his life, a woman as free and as fearless as she. If she said Søren had crossed a line with her, Kingsley believed her.
Kingsley owed her. She’d fled somewhere—he didn’t know where but he assumed she’d picked a place she felt safe. What right did he have taking her away from there if that’s where she wanted to be? But he would do it, and he would do it for Søren, and he would do it because she’d become such a part of his life he couldn’t imagine waking another morning to find her gone.
If Kingsley went back to the town house right now he’d call all his contacts and find her. Søren would be sitting there, waiting, depending on Kingsley to find her.
But.
But if he didn’t go back to his town house...
Kingsley pulled his mobile phone out of his jacket and dialed a number.
“Don’t speak,” Kingsley said before his assistant could say a word.
Silence was his answer. Good.
“Answer the next question I ask you only with a yes or a no. You understand?” Kingsley asked.
“Yes,” Calliope said. Her voice was calm, controlled. She betrayed nothing. He’d trained her well.
“Is he there?”
“No.”
“No?” Kingsley repeated. “Good. Now you can talk. Did he tell you where he went?”
“No,” Calliope said. “He told me to tell you he had an idea where she might be. Then he got on his motorcycle and drove away.”
Kingsley’s brow furrowed as he leaned back against the lockers.
“He’s not going to get her back,” Kingsley said.
“Are you going to find her then?”
Kingsley didn’t answer. He had a decision to make. Calliope made it for him.
“She wouldn’t leave him without a good reason, right?” she asked. “She wouldn’t leave him unless she had to. I know her. I know how much she loves him.”
“So do I,” Kingsley said.
“Did he hurt her? Like in the bad way?” Calliope asked, her voice awash in fear and confusion. Kingsley could sympathize.
Kingsley didn’t answer.
“King?”
He had a decision to make. He made it now.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” she said.
“I need you to move into the town house. Someone needs to take care of the dogs. Can you do that for me?”
“I practically live here anyway. Dad’s not going to be thrilled, but I’m eighteen. Not much he can do about it. Sure. Anything you need.”
“You can have any room that isn’t mine or isn’t hers. There’s ten grand in cash in my bottom desk drawer. The combination is—”
“I know the combination.”
“How?”
“You hired me because I’m the sort of girl who knows combinations, remember?”
“Good point.” He almost laughed. He did know how to pick an assistant.
“Shut the house down. Close it. Cancel all the parties. Cancel everything, even the newspaper.”
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.
“Yes. I have to leave the country. Don’t tell him I’m going. I’m not going to tell you where I’m going so you don’t have to lie when he asks you. The truth is, I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t know when I’m coming back. But you can handle things while I’m gone. Yes?”
