Page 59 of His Puppet

“I’m fine. Areyouokay? What happened to your face?”

He moves his eyes back to me, panicked. “We have to go. Now. I don’t know how the hell you evaded those guys this long, but they’re looking for you. They came by here the same day you took that job and claimed you stole from them.” Ellison shakes his head, his face twisting with pain. “I never should’ve let you take that job, Poll. I knew something was—”

“Ellison, I’m fine. Really. They already found me, and they let me go.”

“What?” He squints. “What do you mean ‘they let you go?’”

“I did a job for them, and they let me go. We’re square.” I reach my hand out toward his face, and he winces. My heart sinks. “They hurt you?”

He pulls my hand away then shrugs like it isn’t a big deal, although I can tell he’s still reeling from it. “Just one guy came by to ask where you were. Nathaniel told him I might know, and he threw me around a little. It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s—”

“Polly, listen to me.” He leans in close and glances at the unmarked car again. “We have a problem. After that guy left, I went to the police.”

Now it’s my turn to panic. My spine stiffens. “What?”

“I had to. I thought they were going to kill you, Poll.”

“Oh my God.” I put my hand to my mouth.

“I think it’s okay.” He squeezes my shoulder. “The police didn’t even take me seriously. I couldn’t tell them much, and they weren’t exactly sympathetic to me claiming you might’ve been kidnapped by some guys you stole from. They were more interested in my busted face, but when I told them I wasn’t going to press charges against the guy who came here, they basically took his description and kicked me out.”

“Shit.” I step away from Ellison and run my hands over my face. Hunched over, I breathe through my nose, trying not to puke.

“I had no idea you were going to be okay. I tried looking for you, and I’ve spent every day outside the theater just in case that tourist-looking guy came back. I didn’t know what to do… I’m sorry.”

I take a few more deep breaths before standing straight. The regret in his voice breaks my heart, and I try to tell myself this isn’t devastating news. It shouldn’t hurt Blade or the Grucos, not if I simply claim this is a misunderstanding, but it doesn’t help my identity situation.

“It’s okay,” I say, managing the tiniest of smiles. “Like you said, the police didn’t even take you seriously.” I breathe and try to school my expression. “Did they ever follow up?”

Ellison shakes his head. “No, they didn’t, but,” he leans close, glances at the car, and speaks low, “I’m pretty sure that’s a cop right there.”

“I know. They followed me here. Don’t tell Nathaniel, but that was part of a plan.” I hold up my hands. “Don’t worry, it’s not going to come back on anyone here. They’re detectives investigating the guy who picked me up. They’re not going to care about our group.”

“Polly, what the hell is going on?”

I bite my lip and think over how much information to give him. I start with small bits, but after a minute everything starts rushing out of me, and I spill it all.

By the time I’m finished, all the color has left Ellison’s face and he has to sit down on the edge of the porch. I sit next to him.

“Jesus,” he says, not looking at me.

“I know…”

“So your uncle, he uh… You really think he’d still care about finding you?”

I nod. “Blade said he’s had private investigators searching for me on and off. I have to ask… Did you tell the police that Polly isn’t my real name?”

Ellison finally looks at me. “Of course not. I didn’t even think about youhavinga real name.” He looks at the ground and huffs. “Honestly, I forget sometimes that Ellison isn’t mine.” He sighs. “It’s Lee.”

When he turns his head, we both manage a sad smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lee.”

“Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair and chuckles. “You too. Let’s stick to Ellison, though, okay? I’m not too keen on the cops knowing my name, either.”

“Runaway?” I ask, curious for the first time.

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