Page 15 of Broken
“What are you doing here still?”
He lifts a carefully manicured eyebrow at me. “Making sure you get to the airport.”
“You’re babysitting me.”
He nods. “Yes. Put your bag in the back, let’s go. Traffic on the 15 is going to slow us down.”
I roll my eyes but put my bag in the back seat and climb in.
As I sit in the silence of the car, I scroll through my phone and immediately am bombarded with videos and articles of Elliot Cushings having sex in an alley behind a gay bar.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I don’t hesitate to click on the first link and find the video. While the camera isn’t the best quality, I can see it’s him. With his face against the wall, pants around his knees, and some asshole pumping against his ass. I’m furious.
I have no fucking right to be, but I am. Fist clenching, face flushing, angry. I want to punch someone, namely that fuckhead who’s got his dick in my boy.
He hasn’t been yours in years.
That fact doesn’t fucking matter. Who the hell is this guy? Is this the type of shit Eli is into these days? Semi-public sex with strangers? The dude finishes and quickly pulls out, does up his pants, and leaves Eli there alone. I don’t need a crystal-clear picture to see the hurt on his face before he turns his head to watch that prick walk away.
“What? You aren’t about to go on a face-breaking rampage, are you?” Franklin’s question pulls me away from the video, and I shut my screen off to stare out the window with my teeth clenched and my knee bouncing.
“Hello? Earth to Asher? What’s your problem now?” My annoying agent waves his hand in front of me.
“None of your business,” I snap.
“With all the trouble you’re in right now, and me being the one trying to save your ass,everythingin your life is my business. Out with it,” Franklin snaps.
Seeing a leaked video of Eli shouldn’t affect you that badly. You left him. Get your shit together.
“Nothing to do with me,” I bite out, bitter that it’s true. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that last summer and relive it, even though it ended in the worst possible way.
We drive through Little Italy and past the marina on our way to the airport. From this angle it looks like the planes are almost touching the water when they land.
Franklin drops me off in front of the airport, and I get my bag checked for the flight, then through security. It’s busy enough that not too many people hound me, but a few ask for a picture or an autograph. I’m not in the headspace for it, but I do it anyway so I don’t have to hear Franklin bitch at me for being rude to fans later.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Elliot
My phone will not fuck off. The noise won’t stop.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
My head is pounding, my body aches, and I may throw up. It’s fine. This is fine.
Why do I keep doing this to myself? It’s so fun.
Keeping my eyes closed, I slap around the bed until I find the offending device and crack an eye open to look at the screen.
My parents?
I accept the video call and throw my arm over my eyes to block out the light.
“Well, you really did it this time, Elliot Martin.”
“Good morning, Mother. How are you this fine morning? I’m well, thank you for asking. Call again soon.” I fake a chipper tone even though I feel like shit. How long has it been since she even sent a text message to check in? A month? Three months? I can’t remember.