The King and the Courtesan (28 page)

* * *

Ezekiel arrived the next morning.

I hadn’t expected him to be days earlier than he said he would, but I wasn’t surprised. My luck seemed rotten.

I wore a looser dress in the hope that he wouldn’t see the bandage, but there really was no point hiding it. He’d see it tonight.

Roger was the one to knock on my door and wake me up. I picked my head off the pillow with a groan.

“What is it?”

“Ezekiel’s home.”

That’s all I needed to know. I was out of bed and dressing before Roger could say another word.

It was around ten o’clock when I met Ezekiel in the kitchen. He was seated at the large table, alone, staring out the window. I gulped. It felt like years since I’d seen him last. His presence refreshed my anxiety and fear. Had he always sat that straight? Had he always worn that expression of cruel indifference? Was his posture always so perfect?

My heels clicked when I took a step forward, and Ezekiel slowly turned to me. He took a sip from his wine and waved me toward the table. Taking a deep breath, I approached. I tried not to wince at the pangs in my side. My bullet wound still smarted.

Ezekiel situated his legs in a clear message that indicated I was to sit in his lap. I did as asked, perching one hand on my thigh while using the other to trace his lapel up to his neck. He said nothing, only took a bite from a croissant. I waited in silence for him to say something, not daring to speak first.

“Have you ever tasted mango?” Ezekiel finally asked, turning to a bowl of yellow fruit slices.

“No, I haven’t.”

He pinched a piece between his fingers and raised it toward me. I took it between my lips slowly and sensually, making sure to curl my tongue against the tip of his finger as I chased the fruit farther into my mouth. I chewed a moment. It tasted almost…carrot-y. I liked it.

“It’s very good,” I assured him.

“It is hard to believe you’ve never had it before.”

“They’re at the local grocery store, but they’re always so expensive.”

Ezekiel’s arm slid around my waist while the other touched my thigh. “These mangos come from Jahral.”

“Jahral?” I blinked. As one of the most dangerous, war-torn countries in the world, it wasn’t high on the list of best vacation spots. It was hard to believe they grew anything there.

“You seem surprised.” His sharp blue eyes settled on me. Were they always that blue?

“Well, it
is
Jahral.”

“I’ve found the best mangos come from Jahral.” Ezekiel plucked another slice of mango from the dish, feeding it to me as he spoke. “In fact, I have a private estate on the far eastern shore, which is entirely under Yentis control. It’s near where these mangos were grown.”

I swallowed before answering. “But the Yentis are terrorists.”

Ezekiel raised his eyebrows. “And I suppose I’m not?”

“No. You’re…you aren’t Yentis. The Yentis are fascists. They—they torture—”

“That is none of my concern, really. The Yentis are, above all, businessmen. You see, much of my merchandise requires crops that do well in the swamps of Jahral. I could grow them elsewhere, but… Well, it’s not a surprise that a stable democracy—as is so in many of the places where the crop also flourishes—wouldn’t be so willing to work with me. But the Yentis are very interested in making a profit, so I have a deal worked out with them. I pay them a certain percentage, and they let me erect as many establishments as I like on their territory. With them in my pocket, I don’t have to worry about the government invading my operation. Plus, they hate the Sumerthan government, so there’s no threat of them selling me out to my own country. My estate on the coast is rather luxurious. I think you may like it there: beaches, palm trees… mangos.” He fed me another piece. Afterward, he stared out the window for a while, and we were both silent. Finally, he moved to stand, and I scrambled off his lap.

“I have not slept for twenty-four hours, but I hardly see a point to sleeping now,” he murmured. He took a step toward me, putting his face only inches away, his hand falling to my hip. “Especially with you looking like this.”

I turned my head and offered him my neck when his lips fell. However, his hand suddenly jabbed my side-wound, and I couldn’t help letting out a soft whimper of pain.

He immediately pulled back, eyes hard. “What is that?”

“I—”

Without warning, he grabbed the hem of my skirt and yanked it up until the bandage on my side was revealed. My heart crawled into my throat, and it took all my self-control to keep from falling to his feet in tears. Imagining his anger about this had kept me up almost all night, and seeing it made every muscle quiver in terror.

“I can explain,” I finally blurted, but half of it was drowned out when Ezekiel snapped, “Bruce, get me Roger. Now.”

Bruce—who always stood outside any door unless Ezekiel ordered him away—left to follow the order.

“What. Is. It?” Ezekiel asked me, grabbing my neck and forcing my face inches from his.

I could barely breathe through my fear, and I tried grasping for words. Ezekiel’s breath quickened, and I rushed to say
something
.

“I-it was an accident. I—”

His fingers snatched at the short hairs on my neck and yanked. I let out a cry.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“It’s a bullet wound,” I whimpered. “But it’s noth—”

He threw me into a chair, cutting me off. He reached up my skirt again and ripped off the bandage, which had been taped securely to my skin. I let out a yelp as Ezekiel cast the bandage aside and leaned in to stare at the wound.

“Please,” I whispered. “It was an accident.”

“Who did this?” Ezekiel pulled my head forward by taking the back of my neck again. “Who?”

“Joel.”

“Who?”

“My sister’s ex-boyfriend. I can expla—”

The dining room door opened, and Bruce and Roger entered. When Roger saw me in the chair—skirt hitched all the way up my stomach, bandage lying on the floor—he blanched.

“So you knew about this,” Ezekiel stated in a chillingly neutral tone.

Roger straightened. “Yes, sir. And I took care of it, as you—”

I let out a cry of shock as Ezekiel suddenly backhanded Roger across the face. Roger didn’t stumble or fall. His face only jerked to one side, a red handprint fading on his cheek. His stoic expression remained.

“What do I keep you around for?” Ezekiel snapped. “Your
only
job is to keep her safe, and yet I come back to find a
bullet
in her side?”

“Ezekiel,” I said, trying to stand. “It’s not his fault. It was—”

Ezekiel ignored me as he moved closer to Roger. I barely suppressed a shout when Ezekiel pulled a gun from inside his jacket. Oh God, he couldn’t possibly be thinking of
using
that…

“Explain what happened,” Ezekiel ordered, gun still lowered.

Roger turned his head straight again, eyes and voice flat. “Sir, her sister was almost beaten to death by her boyfriend, Joel. We went to the hospital to see her, along with a friend of Melissa’s. I—” Roger closed his eyes a moment, inhaling sharply. “It was going to be a few hours, and I received a call about my wife.”

No, Roger, what are you doing? Lie! Please just lie!

“She had collapsed, and they were doing surgery. I-I-” Roger turned his face even farther from my sitting place. “I left Melissa in the ER with her friend while I went to my wife.”

Ezekiel’s expression remained the same, jaw set. “And?”

“Melissa went outside the hospital for a few minutes to get a breath of fresh air, and Joel, high on what Melissa thinks was Blue Kitten, pointed a gun at her. He was clearly not in his right mind and ended up shooting Melissa in the side. He was quickly taken into police custody, and when I returned to Melissa, the hospital had already taken care of her wound. That’s what happened, sir.”

There was a long silence. It seemed like a stretched wire, just waiting for that one vibration to snap it apart.

Ezekiel finally inhaled and looked past Roger at Bruce.

“Bruce, would you please step outside?”

“Yes, sir.”

The dining room door closed behind him.

I couldn’t handle the quiet any longer. “Ezekiel, please. He left me in the middle of a busy hospital with a trusted friend. To go to his wife. He—I—it’s my fault. I told him to. I pressured him. I’m so sorry—”

“Melissa.” He shut me up with that one word. “Tell me. Who does Roger work for?”

I bowed my head. “You.”

“Yes. Therefore, it is
not
your fault, as he was not acting against
your
orders. However, if I’d known he would be persuaded so easily by the pleading of a whore, perhaps I wouldn’t have offered him this job.”

Roger attempted to show no emotion, but I saw his jaw tighten. He bowed his head and stared at the floor

Ezekiel turned to Roger, using his gun to tilt Roger’s chin up. “Tell me why your wife is still alive at this point, Roger.”

“Because of you, sir.”

“And I do believe that your
being
there has little to do with whether she dies or not. You see, we all have jobs we must do. Your job is to protect my property. My job is to see that your wife receives the care she needs. And if you don’t do your job, then perhaps I can’t do mine.”

“Ezekiel,” I whimpered. “Please. Please don’t do this to him.”

Ezekiel ignored me. “I have a dilemma, however. It is hard to find loyal, intelligent employees who I work well with. And you’ve done me a great deal of good, Roger. You’re very competent at what you do, and I appreciate that. So that is why I am willing to be lenient. However, that does not mean I intend to forget this transgression. You are well trained physically, but your emotions often rule you far too much. Perhaps this is why you’d make a poor soldier. Anyway, I feel as if I must correct this. Melissa, get up.”

I did as he ordered, despite the pain in my side. Ezekiel crooked a finger, motioning me closer. I approached hesitantly until Ezekiel took my arm in his hand.

“You wish to remain in this position, correct?”

Roger nodded.

“Very well. This mandates you follow my orders. Every order, no matter how much it pains you. I know you’ve grown attached to my little courtesan here, to the point you neglect my orders for hers. So.” Ezekiel let go of me. “Hit her.”

Roger gaped at him, as did I. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I know you heard me the first time. Hit her. Hard. And you may not stop until I order you to. If you don’t, I’ll have Bruce punish her instead.” He arched an eyebrow. “I daresay Bruce would not be so kind. You’ll be doing her a service, really.”

Roger paled. But I didn’t.

Yes, the doctors said three months. So if Roger got fired, would it matter
? Yes, it would. There was always hope. There was always treatment. Treatment that had to be paid for. Even if that treatment was simply to lessen the pain of dying. Even if his wife was doomed, he needed the money for her. He needed money to make her three months as painless as possible. Roger really had no choice. I’d much rather he beat me to a pulp than abandon his wife.

But that didn’t mean I wanted him to.

I tried catching his gaze, tried communicating to him that I’d think no less of him if he followed Ezekiel’s orders. But Roger wouldn’t look at me.

“Roger, now.” Ezekiel stepped back, eyes colder than I’d ever seen them.

I clenched my eyes shut.
Do it, Roger
.

Slam!

The first hit came when I wasn’t expecting it. It was a backhand to the face, hard enough to make me step back, but not fall. It hurt like hell, but I refused to cry out.
This is for Bahiya
.
Not for Roger. Not for me or Ezekiel
. I didn’t mind taking the beating for a sick woman. It seemed like the least I could do.

Whack
!

Time to be strong, Melissa. It could be worse. You could be back working on the streets, seated naked on a bed, watching another faceless man come toward you, one who calls you “kitten,” whose groin smells of piss and musk, who licks your ear and thinks you shudder because you like it
.

It could be worse
.

Roger was no longer my bodyguard.

It made sense, but I was instantly lonely without him. Now my bodyguards changed every week, and none of them were ever interested in conversation. I suppose I wasn’t, either. I’d learned my lesson on that one. Personal attachments weren’t worth it. That was the lesson Ezekiel wanted to get across, and he’d gotten it across clearly.

A part of me hated him. But in other ways, I’d known he was like this. Maybe a more naïve girl would have thought there was a decent man inside, just waiting to bloom with the patient love of a good woman. I’d never been that naïve, even when I was a virgin. Guys like Ezekiel didn’t change, no matter what. He was good-looking, smart, and talented, but he knew no compassion, and he’d always be like that. So why hate him? Where would that get me? He didn’t care if I hated him or not. As long as I did what he was paying me for, he’d continue to keep me. Roger was now off doing something else for him, and I really hoped Bahiya was all right.

As for my sister, Ezekiel was kind enough to allow me a few visits while escorted by my new bodyguard. I’d run across Yogi and Rose during one visit, and that small bit of contact with friends lifted my mood past what Mimi’s improvement had done. My bodyguard didn’t like to leave my side, but he did acquiesce to leaving me alone with my sister for a few minutes.

I could have chastised her for being as stupid as to allow Joel back into the apartment, but then again, I knew how Joel could be—how he might apologize and weep and tell her he’d changed, that it would be different this time. Mimi wasn’t an idiot, but she loved him. He knew many ways to manipulate her, even when totally whacked out on drugs.

“I’m glad he’s in jail,” Mimi said. “He needs help.”

“Yeah, help in the form of a knife.”

Mimi glared at me. So much for trying to amuse her with some dark humor.

Mimi would be released tomorrow, and both the neighbor and Yogi had promised to help her with her recovery. Unfortunately, she’d been fired from her job for missing so much work, which was ridiculous, but that’s how it was in Metro. There were always more people clamoring for a job, no matter how much it sucked. If you weren’t there, you were replaced.