We get into the limo that’s waiting just outside the entrance. The door is held open for us by the well-dressed chauffeur, and I wonder if it’s always been here waiting, or if he’s been called especially for us to leave in the last five minutes.
The four of us enter and sit. No one speaks. No one knows what to say, and if the tension radiating from Denham is anything to go by, everyone knows it’s best to stay quiet.
The ride back to The Kingdom is long. It feels like it takes ten times as long as the excited ride we experienced on the way to the ball.
When we reach The Kingdom, we all exit the limo and stand on the sidewalk in an awkward silence.
“Take the girls up,” Denham orders. “I have some things I need to do in the office.” Spike nods in acknowledgement, but Lottie doesn’t seem happy at all.
“Urm, excuse me?”
“I said. Take the girls up.” Denham’s stern face is deep in thought, but his tone is not to be messed with. This of course is a red rag to a bull to someone like Lottie.
“Listen here, mister,” Lottie says calmly, walking right up to him and standing as tall as she can possibly make herself. “Your surname might be ‘King’ but that does not make you commander of me. Now, I know you’ve heard a revelation this evening, but you’re not the only one.”
Denham looks at her and frowns, standing tall and pushing his chest out as if to defend his actions. “Say what?” he says quietly.
“I said, you are not fucking king and ruler of everyone, so I think we all need to sit down and formulate a plan, don’t you?”
He narrows his eyes and drops his gaze to the floor.
“Fuck me, Spike. You’ve got your work cut out with this one, eh?” He looks up and offers Spike a small smile. His hand still holds mine, but he steps toward Lottie and bends at the waist to kiss her softly on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, Lottie. I’m sure you don’t want to be bored, sitting in my office, and listening to me curse and swear while I look for something that I’m pretty damned sure isn’t there. So, I thought it would be best for you guys to go upstairs and wait.”
“Then you should have suggested that instead of ordering it. Don’t you think Arianna needs your time more than your paperwork does right now?”
“Yes, you’re right. Totally right. I’m sorry. Let’s go talk it out.” He pulls her into a one armed hug, tugging on my hand, too. So I join them.
The next few minutes happen so fast. But if it’s at all possible, it happens in slow motion too.
Screeching tires.
The thundering sound of acceleration as a car approach at high speed and mounts the curb.
Then the bang.
The bang that violently pulls a piercing scream from Lottie’s throat, as Spike is taken clean off his feet and catapulted into the air.
Screams. More screams. Coming from me, they’re coming from me, and Lottie. And yelling, coming from Denham.
Everything plays out in front of me like a slow motion picture film. Spike is helpless to the ton of metal that breaks his fall as he comes back down. He lands on the windshield with a thud. It shatters, and the speed at which the car continues to travel throws Spike onto the asphalt. The car pulls away onto the busy Las Vegas street as fast as it came.
“Spike! Spike!” Lottie screams, rushing to his side. “Fucking hell, help him. Someone help him!” She’s frantic. The tears are pouring from her eyes, and her screams are attracting everyone within earshot.
Denham is at his side in a split second. He murmurs words under his breath, but I can’t make them out. Neither of them is sure if they should touch him. Both of them frantic. Both of them now yelling at him to wake up. But he doesn’t respond.
I will my legs to move slowly closer. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to go to first, because I can’t help either of them.
There’s blood. Oh god. There’s blood coming from his head. And his face is cut. He lies at an awkward angle and I can’t help but think he must be uncomfortable. But he’s not even conscious.
“Is he breathing?” I whisper. “Is he breathing?” I yell.
Sirens cut through the crowds that have gathered, and the paramedics pull in as close as they can.
“Excuse me, miss, I need to get through,” one says, pushing past me with a huge medical bag. I step aside and blend in with the crowd, wrapping my arms around my body to find some kind of comfort. This can’t be happening.
“Spike! I need you,” Lottie cries. “I need you, baby. Please be okay.” She drops to her knees on the sidewalk as they put Spike on a stretcher and take him to the waiting ambulance. I push forward and wrap my arms around her body, absorbing the hysterical cries coming from her, and trying to help in some way. Only, I know that nothing can help. The only thing that will help is if she could see Spike open his eyes and talk to her. The paramedic gestures to his partner. It’s small and I only just catch it. A minute shake of his head. My stomach sinks. Please don’t let him die. Please don’t let him be dead.
