“Ella?” Alex repeated, “What happened?”
James rushed to close the door while Alex took my hand, gently leading me to the nearest chair. “Get her some water, babe,” he hollered at James.
Lowering myself into the chair, I felt the embarrassment gnaw at me. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry.”
“Can you stop?” He knelt down, holding my hand over my knee. “Ella… what happened?”
“Jude… Abel…” I knew how incoherent I was, but hard as I tried, I couldn’t form a sentence. “Blood on my rug.”
“Blood?” James repeated with wide eyes as he approached, handing me a glass of water. “Whose blood, Ella? What did you do?”
“Me?” I tittered before falling into a hysterical fit of laughter. “I—I didn’t do anything! Oh, no,” I lifted a finger. “I did. I certainly did.”
“Okay, she’s in shock,” Alex stood up, looking at James. “Should we call Frances?”
“No, no,” I slowed down my laughter, barely containing it. “I’m not in shock. I mean, yes, I am. But…”
“But?” Alex dipped his head, anticipating the rest of my sentence.
“Oh my God, my family!” Suddenly, I began to fumble through my bag until I caught the phone. Dialing my mom’s number, I looked at Alex and James, who remained baffled, staring at me. “Mom! Mom, hi. How are you, and how’s dad?”
“Hi, honey. We’re good, baby. How are you?”
“Mom, listen to me carefully, okay? I got a restraining order against Jude.”
I watched Alex and James’ eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.
“What?” she exclaimed.
“If he tries to contact you or dad, you have to report him immediately. Do you understand? You have to.”
“What the hell happened, Ella?”
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’ll tell you later. I just have a lot to do right now.”
“Ella! You can’t just—”
“Mom, can you trust me on this?”
“Oh my God, Ella.”
“Kiss dad for me. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye, mom.”
When I hung up, Alex was reaching for his wine, chugging it down as if it were water. James just stood there with his hands in his pockets, quietly narrowing his eyes at me. I shrugged, putting the phone back into the bag before taking a drink of water.
“What did the fucker do?” Alex finally asked.
“I’d rather not relive it.” I sat back, rubbing my forehead as I closed my eyes.
“And… where’s Abel?” James sat down on the couch, leaning forward with the rest of his wine in his hands.
“Oh,” I widened my eyes. “You mean Abel Drakos?” I tittered, shaking my head. “Philip Drakos’ son?”
“What?” Alex sharply asked. “Your Abel is Abel Drakos?”
“Well,” I flipped my hand in the air. “Technically, he’s not mine anymore.”
“Okay,” Alex started pacing back and forth, wagging his finger beside his head. “You can’t just say ‘blood’ and then follow it with something like that. What did you do, kill the man?”