Incite (Sphere of Irony 1)

“Useless fucking bastard!” I curse myself under my breath, dragging my hands through my hair.

The door shuts behind her and I want a drink so badly that my mouth is watering and my hands are shaking. I shove them in my pockets just so I don’t have to look at them twitch. This is the first time in my life I’ve actually wished I smoked. I laugh cynically, the reality of what I did sinking in. I’ve probably ruined one of the only real relationships I have left in my life.

What a goddamn disaster I am.

I throw down some money and figure I’ll talk to Prescott later. He’ll understand. Dodging Lucy is difficult, but I manage to outsmart her by going out through the kitchen.

A passing cab slows when I raise my hand. “Sixth Ave. and Spring, please.” I jump in and tell the driver distractedly.

God, I really fucked up this time. I’m contemplating stopping at a liquor store on the way home when my mobile rings. I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a U.K. code, so I decide to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” the female voice responds.

“You rung me love, so what is it you wanted?” The cab stops in front of my building. I hand him some cash and hop out, waving to the concierge as I pass him in the lobby.

“Is this Adam?”

“Who’s this?” I ask cautiously. It’s been a while since anyone managed to get my private mobile number. I’d really hate to have to change it again.

“My name is Gemma Spencer and my best friend is someone you know. Her name is Ellie Palmer. So… is this Adam?”

My mouth goes dry and my heart starts pounding beneath my shirt. A friend of Ellie’s? No one in the press has ever managed to dig up Ellie’s name, but I’m still hesitant to believe this random stranger.

“How do I know that you’re telling me the truth?” I input the code to my flat and shove my way inside. Exhausted, I collapse onto the large leather sofa and put my elbows on my knees to help hold my head up as I speak.

“Well, I know that you used to date, that she was supposed to go with you to California, but lied when her dad died. I know that you met her in a hotel room three years ago and think that she blew you off afterwards.”

“Wait…” I interrupt, my palms sweaty from the adrenaline rush I’m experiencing and my stomach queasy with nerves. “I think she blew me off? No, I’m sorry, I received a text from her telling me to fuck off. That’s not a supposed dismissal, that’s an actual dismissal.” I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans and switch the phone to my other ear. “How do you know Ellie anyway?” I’m not sure that I should be speaking to this woman, let alone giving up personal information, but she knows an awful lot to be a fake.

“I work with Ellie. We’re both nurses. And she never sent you a text, her phone was destroyed the day after she saw you at the hotel.”

Jesus, she’s for real. No one, and I mean no one knows this much about her, not even my band mates. She’s wrong about the text but I’ll worry about that later.

“Why are you calling me?” I put my feet up and lie back on the sofa, completely overwhelmed by this unexpected conversation.

“Because Ellie’s been trying to reach you for ages. She can’t seem to get a message through to you. She’s emailed, called, and even written your record label with no response. Unless… unless you got them and don’t want to speak to her,” Gemma says cautiously.

I bark out a laugh, “As if I’d ever do that.”

“That’s what I thought,” she responds. I can practically hear her smiling through the phone. “So, do you want to see her as much as she wants to see you?”

“Gemma, I don’t know what else to say except I want to see her more than I want anything else in the world.”

“Well then, I’m just the girl to make that happen,” she says giddily.

After the fuck up with Sydney, I can only hope that Gemma is being honest, because I don’t think my heart can recover from another crushing blow delivered by Ellie Palmer.

&

nbsp; chapter 38

Ellie

Damn, I should have planned this out instead of hurrying over here like a stupid idiot. I’m standing at the front door of the underground fight club that Dax’s family runs, peeking in the blackened window. It’s either really dark inside or the windows are painted black, because I can’t see a thing.

“Miss, you really shouldn’t be out here by yourself. Let me take you back to your flat.” I scowl and wave off the kindly cab driver and his concern, “No, I’m fine. You can go.”