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THIRTY-FIVE

Blake

I CAN’T LEAVE my house without reporters shoving their cameras in my face and their questions down my throat. Even though The Elliot Brown Show has taken the episode off air after both my team and PlayMedia threatened to sue, it’s been a media circus. Some people are applauding me for calling out a predator, especially since a few other women have come out with similar claims following the interview.

Those close to me are calling me an absolute bloody idiot for doing so at Ella’s expense. They’re right. I am an absolute bloody idiot. There are no two ways about it.

I’ve been a dead man walking since Ella flew back to Chicago. I don’t blame her. I hate myself for what I did, so I can only imagine how she’s feeling. I promised her I’d be the kind of man she deserves, yet I’m the reason she’s reliving her own personal hell. I lost my cool and may have lost the love of my life in the process.

There is no me without her and the thought of living life without her is the worst kind of pain I’ve ever experienced. It’s been over a week since we last spoke, and there’s not enough whiskey in the world to burn the thought of her out of my mind.

I’m pouring myself another drink when I hear banging on the door. I have a pretty good guess who it is, and if I’m right, I’m not in the mood for it. I take my time finishing making my old-fashioned before slowly heading to the door. I find Theo, Lucas, and an absurd amount of beer on the other side.

“It’s cold as tits out there, mate,” Theo complains. He pushes straight past me into the warmth of my foyer. “You really took your sweet bloody time, didn’t you?”

Lucas rolls his eyes at Theo. “What he means to say is ‘Hey, Blake, how are you doing?’”

“You should’ve texted.” The deep timbre of my voice is diluted down to a tired, raspy pitch. “I’m not in the mood for company.”

“We did text.” Lucas walks past me, closing the door behind him. “And we brought beer and pizza. When’s the last time you ate?”

His guess is as good as mine. A loud crash from the kitchen indicates Theo’s making himself right at home. They’re not leaving anytime soon, whether I want them to or not. Lucas and I follow the noise and find Theo sitting on my kitchen counter while a glass pitcher lies shattered on the floor.

“I leave you alone for one minute, Walker.” I sigh, rubbing my brow. “And you break shit.”

I listen to Theo explain that he’s on the counter to avoid getting glass in his feet. They are his money maker after all.

“I wanted to pour the tinnies into a pitcher,” he explains. “Like iced tea … but with beer.”

I head to the pantry to get a broom and pan rather than tell Theo that may be the single-handed stupidest thing I’ve heard in my entire life. Lucas takes over cleaning duties as I put the frozen pizza in the oven. Theo watches us from the counter, perched like some sort of handsome Australian gargoyle.

“Grab me one of those, mate?” He nods toward the beer on the opposite end of the kitchen. “Please and thank you.”

I toss a can over and sip my whiskey. The ice cube is starting to melt, but I need the liquor to numb the ache that’s sitting in my chest.

“We’ve been texting you all week, by the way,” Lucas says as he empties the glass-filled pan into the garbage. “You’ve just continually ignored us.”

“Maybe my phone died.” I shrug. My phone’s fully charged just in case Ella needs me or wants to talk. Neither has happened so far but wishful thinking and all that.

“Bullshit,” Theo chides, calling me out on my fib. “Doesn’t matter. We’re here anyway.”

I don’t answer. I’m not sure why they’re here. It’s not like they can do anything to help the situation. They’re good friends—I’m lucky to have them, I know that—but right now I don’t want to talk about anything. Especially the one thing they’re here to talk about.

As if on cue, Theo says, “Have you spoken to Ella? Since … you know?”

“Since I revealed the fact that she was sexually harassed and assaulted on live television?” I snap before taking another sip of my drink. “For some weird reason, she doesn’t particularly want to talk to me.”

I run my hand through my hair. Ella’s everywhere and everything. I feel the ghost of her lips on my neck, the echo of her laugh in my bedroom. I can’t sleep without her warm body pressed against mine, but I don’t want to be awake when I’m forced to think of all the hurt I’ve caused her.

“Don’t bite my head off, mate.” Theo holds his hands up in surrender. “I was trying to be nice about it.”

“I told him to chill with the questions until you’re at least a few drinks deep.” Lucas chuckles with a guilty shrug. “God forbid he listens to me.”

“Being a parent is tough,” I add with a small smile. “Especially with a child as disruptive as Theo.”

“I’m right here, you know.” Our adult kid pouts dramatically. “And I’m just trying to help.”

Lucas leans against the counter. “So is that why you asked us about Connor? Because you knew?”

“No.” I shake my head. “She didn’t tell me about the assault until we were dating. I just knew how he treated her.”

Theo mumbles under his breath. “No wonder you almost hit Lucas when he said he’d met him before.”

“Sorry about that,” Lucas mutters. “I didn’t know he was actually a piece of shit.”

The two of them talk amongst themselves as we wait for the pizza to heat up. I’m zoning in and out of the conversation, but my ears perk up when Theo tells Lucas he went to a spin class with Josie the other morning.

“Did you ask about Ella?” I interrupt. The hopeful tone of my voice is pathetic, but I’ll take any scrap I can get. “How she’s doing?”

“You really think Josie told me anything?” Theo slowly raises an eyebrow. “I tried asking, but her lips are sealed, mate. Also kind of hard to chat during a class when a bike seat is crushing your balls.”

His answer doesn’t surprise me. Josie’s barely said a word to me since the interview except when absolutely necessary for work purposes.

“More importantly,” Theo continues. “How are you doing?”

The oven beeps and I quickly take out the pizza, grateful for the excuse to not have to answer his question. How am I doing? I feel like life is moving on in vibrant color, but I’m frozen in place surrounded by grays and browns.

We head to the kitchen table, everyone grabbing a slice of pizza. I eat despite the fact that I’m not hungry. I can tell my friends are worried enough given the furtive glances they keep giving one another. Subtlety has never been Theo’s strong suit, and Lucas doesn’t bother hiding his concern. It’s like everyone’s waiting for a repeat performance of last year’s break-down. They have no reason to worry; I can barely get out of bed, let alone want to.

“What’s your game plan?” Lucas finally asks. “Are you still going to Chicago for Thanksgiving?”

I start to shake my head but hesitate. “I don’t know.” If she doesn’t want to speak with me on the phone, I doubt she’s going to want to see me in person.

“So you’re just going to do nothing?” Theo rests his elbows on the table, staring me down. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I don’t feel like I’m in a position to not do what Ella asks of me.”

“But she’s your better half,” he argues in a loud voice. “Or whatever.”

She’s not my better half, she’s my whole fucking heart.

I take my phone out of my pocket to press ignore on an incoming call, but the name flashing across the screen makes me pause. I step outside to answer. My friends are staring at me with wide eyes and curious expressions when I come back in. Theo wastes no time in asking questions. Who was it? Do I know them? Why’d you have to talk to them outside? I sink into my seat before a shadow of my old grin appears.

“It was my lawyer.” I blink slowly, still in shock. “The deal’s going to go through.”

The seven-month legal battle I’ve been in has remained at a standstill for weeks. To be honest, I’d almost all but given up hope. Now I’m damn glad I didn’t.

“Good on you, mate!” Theo drums his hands against the table in excitement. “Looks like that shitstorm of an interview was good for one thing.”

So much for him trying to be nice about it.

“Did they finalize it because of that?” Lucas lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit, man.”

Theo grabs another piece of pizza. “So is it yours? Is it hers? Give us the details, Blakey Blake.”

An idea starts forming in my mind. It’s borderline crazy, but it might be crazy enough to work. I outline what I’m thinking to my friends and it’s the longest Theo’s ever stayed quiet in a conversation. Three phone calls, two beers, and one hour later, it’s decided. I’m headed to New York City after the next Grand Prix.