31
ELIJAH
If being arrested wasn’t humiliating enough, losing an entire day to being questioned for whatever lies Imogen spouted was the sour cherry on top.
Time and time again, I had to confirm who I was, repeat that I never laid a hand on her, and demand that they get the CCTV from the lobby to prove my innocence. Being denied my one phone call for hours kept me on edge as I faced down a cop who barely hid his excitement at getting to question someone like me. Time and time again, he made snarky comments about how the Elite could get away with anything with enough money.
I’d have agreed with him if I weren’t so incredibly pissed off. By the time I was allowed my phone call, I only needed to tell Buster where I was before he was on the phone with the commissioner, threatening to rain down hell from NYC. Suddenly, the CCTV from the hotel lobby magically turned up and an hour later, I was turfed out into the parking lot with my personal items in a bag and a warning not to show my face here again.
I should call a cab. But Calliope’s number was the one I immediately scrolled to, and thankfully ,she agreed to pick me up.
Seeing her will be the perfect Band-Aid to this really fucking terrible day. I perch up on a stone step near the entrance, huddle into my coat, and scroll through the countless emails and missed calls from Buster and more. Each time the door squeaks open behind me, I brace for Imogen’s shitty voice until Buster texts with the assurance that Imogen was released hours ago and has been blowing up social media about her catatonic love life.
I hate her.
Or maybe I pity her.
The feelings collide with exhaustion in my chest and my head hangs low until ice crunches under the soft roll of tires and a car pulls up in front of me.
Calliope.
Seeing her is like seeing the first rays of sun in the morning and I immediately smile when we lock eyes. “Calliope.”
She rolls down the window and scans me from head to toe. “You look like shit. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time.”
I climb into the car and settle back in the seat with a pleased sigh as the cushioning is the first soft thing I’ve sat on since leaving Calliope’s house yesterday. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yeah, duh. I’ve never picked someone up from jail before.”
“Never?”
Calliope’s attention remains on the road but she rolls her eyes. “Do I look like someone who spends a lot of time here? Being near the cops makes me so nervous. I always feel like I’m doing something wrong and don't know it and they’ll immediately target me.”
“I get that.”
“Do you?” There’s a slight edge to her voice that immediately makes me uncomfortable, but I quickly put it down to how tired I am.
“Maybe not. I have good lawyers.”
“Exactly. Is that why you’re free?”
I frown. “You think I did something?”
“I dunno.” She glances at me and our eyes meet. “Did you?”
Okay, it’s not just me. Something is definitely wrong. I’ve never known Calliope to be this prickly before. “No. I didn’t.”
“Then tell me.”
“My ex turned up. Imogen. She was waiting for me in my hotel lobby. She… honestly, I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but she’s trying to muscle in on a business deal and claiming I owe her because she used the company once when we were together. It’s a whole messy thing. Anyway, she was getting pissed at me for telling her no, and to leave me alone, and she flew into one of her rages. The next thing I know, she’s shoving me and hitting me. I trip over a table, hit a vase, grab her for balance and we both go down. Then I’m in cuffs because she’s screaming I attacked her,and hotel security want me out of the public eye as quickly as they can.”
“Damn.” Calliope lets out a soft, low whistle as she drives. “And they arrested you for that?”
“Originally for the disturbance, yeah. Then they started throwing a whole bunch of other shit at me because Imogen was telling them I attacked her, that I was stalking her, that I’d threatened her.”
