“Lana, you were mumbling when I came out there. I heard you say it.” I face her my expression disoriented. Hers is sculpted into horror.
“Said what? What are you talking about?” I question, sitting up to take a sip of the water. The cool liquid feels good running down my dry throat. I make sure to take little sips and not huge gulps, last thing I need is to vomit on my pregnant best friend. She would probably lose her stomach and then it would look like a scene right out of the exorcist.
“You said his name.” She looks like a ghost, her face pale and her eyes distant.
“Whose?” She shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling, fighting back her tears.
“Joel’s. You said his name. My brother said the nightmares were getting better. Are they still bad? What did you see that brought you to the ground and made you sick? And please, Lana, don’t lie to me.” Her eyes search mine, big green irises, matching Kingston’s, looking at me for answers. Maybe I can tell her. If I beg her not to, she might not even tell Kings. I can hope, right?
“Listen. It’s been a rough week. I was getting better with my nightmares, but then..” I stop, my chest feeling heavy with anxiety, my palms growing damp from sweat, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be.
“Lana, please,” she pleads, her hands covering my fidgeting ones.
I continue, “Joel’s been sending me things, awful things. He found me, he’s not over me...” I say on one long breath, barely pausing between each thought.
“What?” Standing up I watch Shayla grow angry, her neck turning red—just like Kingston’s does. “Have you told Kings? And how can he contact you, he has a no contact order on him?” she rambles off questions, pacing our office.
“I haven’t told him and I’m not sure I’m going to. Plus, I think he has an outside party doing it, because he said things in that letter that only someone on the outside would know.”
“Excuse me?” She looks at me bewildered, stopping all her movement and towering over me, her big belly only a foot away from me.
“I know. I think I’m being followed,” I answer, just as shocked.
“Not that part. I meant the part where you just said you aren’t going to tell my brother!” she bellows out, her once worried exterior now overcome with anger. “You’re going to freaking tell my brother!” she hollers, reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her phone. Reaching out in a panic I go to grab the phone, but she’s faster, pulling it out of my reach. “Stop!” her yell echoes in the room, halting my movement. I’ve never seen her yell like that, especially at me.
“We’re not doing this again, I will not cover for that pig. For years I kept my mouth shut for you to keep you safe and it did the opposite. It nearly killed you! I promised myself I would never let anything hurt you again and this is me keeping my promise, so Lana, so help me God if you try and lie or stop me, I will handle this all with or without you.”
I take a hard, dry swallow, thick with trepidation. She’s right, I was wrong to hide this information from Kingston and honestly he deserves to know. He needs to know. The people I love were just as tortured as I was those years with Joel. I have no right to damage them more and drag them through hell again. I need to shut up and let the people who love me protect me and keep me safe. I can’t go back to living in the shadows, I can’t go back to being a prisoner of abuse.
I don’t know if it’s the rage in her voice or the sincerity in her eyes begging me to let someone help me, but every fiber in my being is telling me to let her call him. Call my King and have him protect his Queen.
I signal her with a nod telling her to do it. The room is silent, I can hear the faint sound of ringing in the background, hear that perfect voice after the third ring. The beacon calling to me i
n my time of need.
“Hey sissy, what’s up?” His deep voice booms into the phone, he sounds calm, not as cheery. That means he’s working hard, concentrating on something. I love the way his forehead creases when he’s working hard, the way his hands own whatever it is they are touching, writing, or doing. I get this feeling in my chest that he isn’t gonna be mad, maybe worried, but never mad. That knowledge brings me a peaceful calm.
Remember Lana James, not every man is gonna punish you for doing something they don’t agree with.
“I need you at the boutique now, Lana needs our help. It’s about Joel.” I hear his voice come barreling through the phone, work mode gone, panic in full fledge.
“Did he hurt her, did someone hurt her?”
“No, she’s safe, she just needs to tell you something. Hurry and get here.”
“On my fucking way.” He sounds livid and just as I’m about to second-guess my choice in letting her call him, he surprises me.
“Put L on the phone.” Handing the phone to me, I lift it to my ear slowly.
“Hello.”
“Hey, do me a favor. Tell me you’re okay.” He sounds lost, out if his mind worried. I instantly rush to tell him what he needs.
“I’m okay.”
“Call me baby.”
“I’m okay, baby.”