Kingdom Fall

“Put it on and the jacket and let’s go,” he said.

I did and when we walked out in the hall, I spotted the fire alarm and reached for it. Connor caught my hand, and I lifted my shoulders. “A distraction,” I said.

“I have it covered,” he said and pulled me through the back hall until we hit an exit. I had vague memories of him taking me this way the last time I was here.

At his bike, he secured a helmet on my head. It was his, because he didn’t put one on. I understood the need for the jacket when we took off. Even though the temperatures were mild, at high speed, I was cold. My legs were mostly covered by my boots. Good thing.

We ended up in the garage of a familiar building.

“Why here?” I asked as we dashed toward the elevator.

“After the club, they’ll go to my Manhattan condo. It will take them a while to tie this place to me.”

He seemed to have all the answers, and I didn’t doubt them. When we made it inside the Soho penthouse, I had a brief moment of nostalgia. I was confused when we didn’t go right toward the bedroom though. We went left but didn’t stop at the living room. Instead, he took us inside the pantry and closed the door. I looked back and missed whatever he did that made the wall to the right move and reveal stairs. I would have never known this was here.

“Wow,” I said, mouth ajar.

“A panic room designed by the former owner.” He pulled me through, hit a button, and the door closed. Even from this side, it was hard to see there was an exit. The door opened from ceiling to floor. “If they come, they won’t find us.” Then he pointed at a button I hadn’t noticed. “If you need out, press this. The door will close automatically if the outside button isn’t pressed within sixty seconds.”

I didn’t know how to react when I saw the place. It was filled with paintings.

“You did all this?” It was a stupid question, but what should you say when you walked into the mind of a genius?

“Over the years.”

I stopped in front of several paintings. “These are me.”

I didn’t need an answer. I recognized the places, the settings. Even the window he’d fucked me against. My face was full of bliss with the New York city skyline in the background.

“I’ve never shown anyone my paintings until you.”

“I guess that means you’re in love with me too.” He froze and I smiled, a very brave one. “It’s okay. I was only teasing.”

“Why did you tell me about the arrest?”

We stood feet apart, me fiddling with my fingers, him waiting for an answer.

“Because it was the right thing to do. I didn’t alert a criminal. I warned an innocent,” I said, chin up. Internally I warred. I wanted to go to him, but there was much to be said.

“Your brother?” he asked.

“I could cover the fact he told me by arguing you’d only left to take care of me. As your wife, you knew I was spent from our time on stage and needed to go home. Everyone saw and it’s the truth.”

He angled his head picking up on only one part of what I said. “You didn’t sign the annulment.” It was a statement.

“I didn’t,” I said and gave him my back. I’d endured his non-return of my use of the word love, but if I saw disappointment that I hadn’t freed him from marriage, I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

He spun me around. “I need you to sign it.”

I pulled back. “I guess that clears things up.”

“It’s not what you think. Matt’s right. I’m tied up with bad people.” When I widened my eyes, he amended his statement. “For the right reasons. But my contact has gone dark. I’ve worked too hard. I have to go to the gathering.”

“An auction of people.”

He didn’t answer, and I looked away.

“I have to make some things right,” he said. “I won’t allow you to be dragged under by what I must do.”

“We can call my brother,” I said.

“I’ve tried.”

“Let me.” I took out my phone and called, but the phone went to a non-personal voicemail.

“Kalen said he’d been using a temporary phone.”

He’d mentioned being at a phone store, and I hadn’t recognized the phone number he’d used. “I’ll call the FBI then.”

“And what? Get him in more trouble?”

“I can’t let you go to jail,” I said, choking out that last word.

Then he was there with his arms around me. “I’m not innocent. If I go to jail, it will be for the things I did and didn’t do.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Look up Lonnie Brooks. I didn’t save him, and I could have. He was the brave one. He’s the one who spoke out in a suicide letter.”