The King and the Courtesan (51 page)

I stood, pushing my chair back with a screech against the linoleum. “I won’t be able to rest until I know what’s going on with this baby. Let’s see him today.”

* * *

I would have worn the dress I had on when I left Ezekiel’s, since it was the nicest piece of clothing I owned, but it was bloodstained. So instead, I borrowed one of Mimi’s cheap, yet pretty, dresses, throwing on my designer heels and slapping on some quick mascara and lip gloss. I didn’t want to look like a tramp, but I didn’t want to look like a hobo, either. I lamented that there was still a gash and a bruise on my temple from Ezekiel’s strike, but there was nothing I could do about that past some concealer—it didn’t work too well.

We drove Mimi’s car while Ace volunteered to give directions. I hated the fact that we had to return to Ralston. Luckily, we did not have to pass Ezekiel’s penthouse. Instead, we headed toward the more sprawling estates of Ralston.

“I’ve only come here a few times to gawk at the nice houses,” Mimi said, navigating the manicured cobblestone streets, wide as highways yet empty as back alleys. Mansion after mansion slipped past.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly on my list of must-see attractions,” Ace replied. “But every city has its fat cats.”

We turned up a meandering drive after telling the guards at the gate who we were. I suppose Ace was a regular enough guest to be granted access, because we weren’t given much trouble.

“You said you’ve met Floyd once?” Mimi asked, turning around to face me.

“Yes.”

“He’s nice?”

“He helped get me and Ace out of Ezekiel’s place alive. So yeah,
nice
would be accurate.”

“Floyd’s a good guy. Almost as cool as his little sister.” Ace laughed.

The mansion was yellow with white trim, sitting in the middle of sprawling green lawns and trimmed hedges. It stood three stories tall, its entrance guarded by goliath marble columns.

“This wasn’t his house initially, mind you. He inherited it from his dad.” Mimi stopped the car, and we all got out. Ace climbed the steps as Mimi and I hung back to stare at the mansion’s impressive façade.

“Are you guys coming?” he asked, already at the front door.

“Yes,” I said, carefully ascending the steps in my high heels.

We were greeted at the door, not by a maid, but by a perky, middle-aged woman in a tracksuit. She was beautiful, yet not in the way wealthy women were. There was no elegance or grace in her, only curiosity and enthusiasm.

“Ace!” she cried, hugging him firmly. “So nice to see you again. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“I guess.” Ace grinned. “Trixie, this is Melissa and Mimi. Mimi and Melissa, this is Trixie, Floyd’s girlfriend.”

We both waved timidly.

“Floyd is upstairs in his office, grumbling over something,” Trixie said, turning around with a dramatic
swish
and striding toward the staircase. “As usual. I offered to take him to the park, but he said it was too cold and yada, yada, yada. Grumpy old man.” She whipped her head around to wink at us as we ascended the spiral staircase. The interior of the mansion was amazing in its size and elegance, but nothing really shocked me. I’d seen my share of decadence.

However, upon reaching the more lived-in quarters of the house, I realized Floyd was not the anal perfectionist Ezekiel had been. His office was in complete disarray, except for the floor, which had to remain clear in order for him to navigate in his wheelchair. He was seated at his desk when we entered, bent over his computer. When he saw us enter, he shut the laptop with a click and straightened.

“Hello there. Good to see you both,” he said, grinning and rounding his desk. Trixie hummed and began pulling things off the furniture, rearranging the shelves into a more orderly configuration. She struck me as a little odd, but who was I to fault a person’s good mood?

“To what do I owe this visit? Has everything been all right since yesterday? Juri told me you all made it out relatively unscathed.”

“Well…” Ace scratched his neck.

“I feel a little ashamed coming to you, after all you’ve done,” I said, stepping forward and bowing my head. “But…” I bit my lip. “I’m in a bit of a predicament.”

“Oh?”

“I know I’m responsible for what happened to Ace, and because of that I shouldn’t be asking any favors.”

“You aren’t responsible for
anything
,” Ace insisted.

I ignored him. “I lied to Ezekiel. He was angry and did whatever he thought would get the truth out of me fastest, which meant kidnapping Ace and threatening his life.”

“Melissa—” Ace said again.

“What did you lie to him about?” Floyd asked.

“I’m pregnant and I hid it from him.”

Only mild shock registered on Floyd’s face, though who knew what he was really feeling. “Is that so?”

“He didn’t like that much.”

“I see.”

“Problem is…I don’t know what to do. I was thinking of going through with an abortion, but that would cost money, and honestly, if the child is healthy, I’d rather just have it. Of course, the problem with
that
is that I don’t know if the kid is healthy. Even if it
is
, I can’t afford all the medical care it’ll take to find out, let alone all the bills when it’s
born
—”

Floyd raised a hand to shut me up. Used to Ezekiel’s authoritative manner, I quieted instantly.

“You need money.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted, even more ashamed of myself. “This isn’t your problem at all. I-I shouldn’t have come.”

“Hmm.” Floyd tapped his lip as he stared at me.

“What?”

“I’m thinking, that’s all. Answer me this—do you actually
want
the child?”

I couldn’t answer that question. When I’d been with Ezekiel, I would have done anything to remove it from my life. But now, with Ezekiel out of the picture, there was something about the idea of being a mother that tempted me. I don’t know why. Maybe it was my way of moving past Ezekiel, of proving to myself and to him that I could succeed in this one thing. But could I? My mother had such good intentions when she had my sister and me.

And look how that turned out.

“Why do you ask?” I asked softly.

“Because adoption is an option.”

“I don’t know. Who’s going to want a child whose mother is…well, me.” I threw up my arms and then let them drop gracelessly. “I don’t exactly lead a sinless life.”

“I may know of someone.” Floyd turned and reached for a paper and pen on his desk. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to write down a clinic, and I want you to call them and schedule an appointment. Don’t worry about the cost. I can easily cover that. When you get the results, we’ll talk again. If they say your baby seems happy and healthy, then I’ll see what I can do.”

“You know someone?” I asked.

“We’ll see. Trixie!”

“What?” She popped up between us, all smiles and fluttering eyelashes.

“Where is that damn secretary of mine?”

“I believe you had a disagreement yesterday over her, er, dramatics at work the week prior.”

“Oh yes.
That
.” Floyd’s brows descended moodily. “Woman can’t keep her personal life out of her work.”

“You fired her, if I recall correctly.”

“She was skipping work,” Floyd explained to Ace, Mimi, and me. “To get high with one of the maids.”

“Oh,” I responded, not sure what to say.

“Okay, then. Trixie—”

“I am
not
your secretary,” she objected hotly.

“Fine then.” Floyd reached for his computer. He spent a minute typing, then wrote down the needed information on the paper. Finally, he handed me the slip.

“That’s the clinic. They’re very good, and I have an acquaintance who is a doctor there. She’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “How can I thank you?”

“Find me a new,
competent
secretary,” he said testily, but then laughed, his expression lightening. “Seriously, though, don’t worry about it. I’m happy to see you out of Ezekiel’s clutches. Alive, at least.” He smiled.

“Yes, the
alive
part is what makes me the most relieved,” I replied.

* * *

Doctors made me nervous, but this time, I knew it wasn’t just for me. I did my best to be brave and deal with the embarrassment that came with a thorough gynecological exam. I’d been through it twice before when Ezekiel had me screened for STDs, but they remained profoundly uncomfortable experiences. Why it bothered me when having sex with strangers didn’t was a mystery to me. Perhaps I didn’t like sharing the intimate details of my life with an educated professional who would most likely judge me for it. My clients at work had no basis on which to judge me, considering why they were there.

Sitting there in my paper gown, I couldn’t stop shivering. I nearly fell off the exam table when the nurse came in. Hell, she was barely older than I was. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her cross the room. Her first questions were easy, but once she fired off the questions about my sex life, I clammed up.

“Are you alright, Ms. Thatcher?” she asked, lifting her eyes from her clipboard.

“I’m just a little uncomfortable, that’s all.”

I expected her to joke about the questions were just the start—that I should wait until the actual
exam
to feel uncomfortable—but she just smiled soothingly. “You aren’t alone. Take a deep breath and know that everything is going to be alright.”

Oh, if only it were that easy.

“Have you taken any legal or illegal substances that were not directly prescribed by a doctor during your pregnancy or six months prior?”

“Um, well…”

The nurse glanced at me.

“I’m actually still—er, God, this is humiliating—”

“Deep breaths, Ms. Thatcher. Honesty can only help you.”

“I’m still taking street dust. I’ve been an addict for several years,” I blurted.

She didn’t even react. She only nodded and made a mark on her clipboard. “Do you smoke?”

“No. I don’t drink either. Um, also…”

“Yes?”

“I kind of got into a…physical altercation with someone during my pregnancy. He kicked me a couple times here.” I pointed to my stomach. “That’s what worries me the most.”

The nurse nodded solemnly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

She asked me a whole list of questions after that regarding sickness and bleeding. Finally, she left and I was able to take a deep breath. That was, until the doctor came in. She was a plump, older woman with cat-eye glasses and all the accoutrements of a doctor, from the stethoscope around her neck to the white coat.

“Ms. Thatcher, I’m Dr. Thorpe. It’s good to meet you.” She shook my hand and smiled.

“Sorry,” I said, wiping my sweaty hand on my gown. “I’m really nervous.”

“Don’t you worry. You’re in very good hands.”

I sighed and nodded. “Thank you. I have to believe that.”

* * *

Things happened very quickly after that. The doctor told me that a sudden detox from street dust would do me more harm than good. I needed to get to a facility that could detox me with a substitute, which would reduce my own withdrawal symptoms while also lowering the chances my child would have complications later on.

“You’re very close to your second trimester. Usually, when we treat people in the first, the results are better. My suggestion is that you go straight to a treatment facility. Their medical team will know how to deal with this safely and swiftly.”

I didn’t tell her I couldn’t
afford
any sort of facility, let alone rehab. After my exam, I called Floyd and told him the news.

“Of course you’ll be going to a treatment facility,” he said, as if I were stupid to even question the doctor’s advice. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I can’t afford—”

“Don’t worry about the money. It’s covered.”

“But—wait. I can’t—Floyd, it’s
expensive
!”

“No, it won’t be. I know several non-profit facilities around the Metro area that will take you with little to no cost, especially since there’s a baby involved. Trust me, they want to help ladies just as much as you want help. Even if it does cost you, I don’t mind footing the bill.”

“I can’t ask for your money—”

“You aren’t. I’m offering it. What do you say, Melissa? I can call them today and get you in there by tonight.”

“
Tonight
?”

“Tonight.”

* * *

By nightfall, I stood at the entrance of South Glenwood Treatment and Rehabilitation Center with a suitcase in each hand. Mimi, Ace, and Floyd stood at my side. There was a novel’s worth of paperwork and an hour-long session of questions, but it passed in a blur. It all seemed so sudden and surreal. I’d never dreamed of being able to do this. All I knew was that I could
not
screw this up. For once in my life, I had people standing behind me, believing in me. I could not disappoint. I’d made a habit of working to please Ezekiel. Now I had to do the same for my loved ones.

* * *

It turned out that the treatment center cost quite a bit—Floyd had gone behind my back and arranged for me to go to one of the best facilities money could buy. This wasn’t the kind of place to counsel you, give you some drugs, and then drop you out on the street the next day. This place was a real hospital, with rooms and beds and a cafeteria. They even had a gym and small movie theater, though it was just a large room with a white board and chairs set up.

I did not know what to do. There was no way I could repay Floyd for all of this. Whenever I brought up payment, he’d shake his head and change the subject. It got to the point I couldn’t even look at him without choking up. I couldn’t understand why he was doing this for me. I couldn’t understand how I got here, couldn’t understand how I had regular visitors like Mimi and Ace and Yogi, all who were so supportive and loving that I wanted to cry.

It wasn’t an easy journey to make. There was withdrawal and the craving for the shots I couldn’t have. Not to mention the daily counseling sessions that wore me down emotionally. Sometimes, I got testy and shouted at the nurses; one of my episodes was so bad, I threw a cup of water at an orderly. He just laughed and said “good night” before locking the door behind him. Even so, after every difficult day I’d wake up the next morning and feel proud of myself. I knew that despite all the pain, sweat, and agony, I was facing my demons and
winning
. Not only that, but my baby seemed to be healthy and growing.