Page 98 of The Cartographer

“That’s my brother you’re talking about, and you hurt him. You want to do it again? Not in my lifetime. I’m assuming you’re calling me because he won’t take your calls.”

“True. But I don’t want to hurt him. I owe him an apology.” It’s bad enough I’m doing this at all, but the back of my neck heats with the weight of my audience’s attention.

“You owe him more than that. You broke his heart. I’ve never seen him messed up over someone, but you got him good.”

I knew I’d hurt him. I knew it. Even as I was doing it, I could see how much I was hurting him, and yet I did it anyhow, thinking it would be like the other times I’ve ripped off Band-Aids. It hasn’t been. I haven’t exposed our wounds to heal in the open air; they’ve been festering and refusing to close. I want to fix it. Kiss it and make it better. Kiss him, hold him in my arms and at my mercy, and let us make each other happy, even though it scares the ever-loving hell out of me.

“I swear to you I will do anything he requires to make it up to him. If that ultimately means he wants me to walk away, that’s what I will do. You have my word.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and I send out a plea to whatever entity grants wishes for people like me. I don’t know who or what that might be, since I’ve always been that person.

“Fine,” she grinds out, and I can tell she’s doing this against her better judgment. I will not disappoint her. “He’s with Julian, and they went to some party. At Ellie’s?”

“Elouisa’s?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Kendra. I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure you don’t regret this.”

“You’d better.”

*

I knew Elouisawas having a party tonight, and I thought it was likely Julian would bring Allie, so I’d planned to steer clear. It is entirely selfish and horrible of me to have had a vague hope Julian and Allie wouldn’t be together anymore, but of course they are, because I’m really fucking good at this.

Despite my intervention crew begging otherwise, I’m pulling into Elouisa’s winding drive alone. It’s late, but there are still a lot of cars because most of them will be there overnight. Between the people who pass out somewhere in the middle of the bacchanal and wake up in the morning to drag their hungover selves to a diner for some grease and the people Elouisa’s staff sends home in cabs, her driveway tends to look like a dealership once a month. Lucky for me, an early arrival’s departed, so I slide the Tesla into the vacant spot near the house and barely wave a hand at the girl taking coats as I lope through the doorway. Ashleigh knows me, and though I RSVPed no, there’s no way she’d bar me from entry.

Tonight’s theme appears to be “Lords and Ladies” or some such, and the staff’s outfits are phenomenal as always. I don’t have time to fully appreciate it because I’m on a mission.

Room after room, I go through, looking for him. In dark corners of dim-lit spaces with bodies writhing in couples or sometimes more, in the sumptuous halls filled with mouthwatering food and a wine selection to die for. He’s not there. Nor is he one of the figures swaying or grinding on the dance floor to remixed medieval beats. I’ve seen Allie dance so many times it’s burned in my brain. I’d recognize him in a crowd of thousands. He’s not here.

The dread inside of me starts to build.Where is he? What have I done? Will I be able to fix this?

On my way down a seemingly endless hallway, I nearly bowl over a woman emerging from the first of the private rooms. My plan had been to knock on every single door, etiquette be damned. If Elouisa never invited me back, so be it. It’d be worth if I could get Allie to give me another shot. A real one this time.

Lucky for me, the woman is Elouisa, her cheeks in full blush and her eyes glossy with fulfilled desires. Her expression quickly turns to one of concern when she looks me over. “What’s wrong, Rey?”

“Hart, the man I brought a month ago, who probably left with Julian Davies, have you seen him?”

She nods at the same time as she gives me a suspicious glance. “Why do you ask?”

Because I want him, I need him, and I’ve made a terrible mistake in handing him over to someone else.

“I—I have a matter to discuss with him.”

Elouisa’s not quite buying my story, probably because it reeks of complete and utter bullshit, but she lets me off the hook. “You might have to wait until tomorrow then. He left in a cab with Julian about half an hour ago. You could check with Ashleigh—”

“Thank you,” I say with a quick buss to her cheek and call over my shoulder as I head toward the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Wish I could stay for longer, it looks like a fabulous party, as always.”

I have to hold myself back from grabbing Ashleigh by the shoulders and shaking her. “Ashleigh, could you tell me where Mr. Davies and his guest were headed?”

She purses her lips oh-so-briefly, and the violent urge to shake her creeps up on me again. Though that approach might work with some, I’m familiar enough with Ashleigh to know charm’s a better tack than threats.

“You know me, Ash. I’m not going to use the information for nefarious purposes. Scout’s honor.”

God love my reputation, because instead of refusing, she smiles conspiratorially and leans in, probably hoping Elouisa isn’t watching. “They were going to Mr. Davies’s home. Do you know where that is?”

“I do. Thank you so much for your help.”

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