The Surrender: Falling In Part 23

"Why, Lucian? Why? You have all these reasons, but you won't share them with me-"

"Because I will hurt you!"

The lash of his words silenced them both. It was ridiculous. Lucian wouldn't hurt her. She was certain of it. It wouldn't make sense for him to be so overprotective with her and then go ahead and do her harm.

"Lucian-"

"Stop. Before you go on a.s.suming you know what I need, just stop. Do you know why Slade's rude to you? Do you?"

She shook her head.

"Because he and I f.u.c.ked the same woman for years. I don't do vanilla s.e.x, Evelyn. When I met you, I immediately picked up on your submissive nature, but I was a blind fool. You had me so enchanted I missed all the signs of your innocence. My G.o.d, I think about how I touched you in front of Jamie and I want to find my best friend and rip out his eyes. But it's my fault because I let him!"

Her mind was still stuck on him and Slade f.u.c.king the same woman for years. Was it just one woman or several women and one just stuck around a little longer than the rest? Did they f.u.c.k each other? That would explain why Slade hated her, but she couldn't imagine Lucian with another man.

He forked his hand through his dark hair and groaned. "I brought you into this situation and I never should've. How could you have possibly understood what you were agreeing to when you didn't have the first clue about s.e.x? I completely uprooted your life and now I feel responsible-"

"Shut up!" she shouted. Then in a calmer voice, "Just shut up. Don't stand there and act like you are in any way accountable for my life. You don't know the first thing about my life outside of this hotel. You couldn't even cope with me spending one night in a shelter. What about all the nights I slept under a bridge, or on a bench? I was born in an alley, addicted to heroin. Did you know that? Of course not, because you're too busy playing martyr to all my problems. Well they aren't your problems! They're mine! And I don't need you to feel responsible for them anymore." Pity was something she simply could not tolerate.

Scout stood on shaky legs. "I'm leaving. I don't want you to follow me or have Dugan follow me or anyone else for that matter. We clearly don't work together, because while I can overlook all your money and arrogance, you will never forget who I was or where I came from. I am n.o.body's charity case, Lucian Patras."

With a confidence she didn't feel, she marched into the bedroom and found her bag. Furious that her hands were shaking, Scout yanked the zipper hard enough that it broke. Her shoulders collapsed at such simple, yet complete, devastation. The bag was the only thing in that world that she owned and she just f.u.c.king broke it. Fighting back the fallout that was sure to come, she quickly dropped her robe and pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Once she had her jeans on she grabbed her bag and held the broken zipper together as best as she could and walked to the front door.

Lucian looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Her limbs trembled as she faced him, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Thank you for everything. I hope you find someone who can make you happy." Scout turned and left.

Part II.

Lucian.

Chapter 26.

Alekhine's Gun.

A position in which the queen backs up two rooks The door slammed and a piece of Lucian's soul ripped away. Her words shredded him. It took everything he had not to bring her back, not to call the front desk and demand they hold her here. In one week's time he'd come to think of Evelyn as his, yet he was incapable of f.u.c.king her again.

That look, that haunted, broken look in her eyes, he put that there. It was right for her to leave, but she wasn't going back to her house or her life. She was going back to that G.o.dd.a.m.n shelter and the streets and she didn't even have a f.u.c.king coat!

He walked to the window and stared down at the streets thirty-two floors below. Cars wove in and out of s.p.a.ces as pedestrians mingled and raced to where they needed to be. Such monotonous bulls.h.i.t.

How had she ever made it this far and come out less damaged than him? Well, that wasn't true. She was notably more damaged since she became a.s.sociated with him.

I was born in an alley, addicted to heroin.

Roaring in frustration, Lucian turned and swept everything off of the desk.

Stalking to the French doors, he pulled them wide. The bl.u.s.tery November air cut through his clothing as his feet stomped to the heavy railing. Leaning far over the edge until his muscles clenched in fear that he might plummet to his death, he gazed at the tiny people scurrying below. Looking for any sign of Evelyn's dark hair luffing like a sail or that ridiculous pillowcase she called a bag, something inside of him crumbled when he saw nothing but strangers.

There was something indefinable about Evelyn, something no other woman had. She was strong, yet fragile. He could help her in ways others didn't need, yet she didn't need him either. Convincing her to take from him was never an easy task, and now he might never be able to give her anything again.

Stubborn woman.

He tried to convince himself that she'd be back, but the unfamiliar presence of fear weighing in his gut told him otherwise.

Standing out there until his fingers felt bloodless, waiting, watching for any sign of her, Lucian's mind scrambled for a solution. She'd come back. She had to come back. Eventually able to admit to himself that she might never come back and that was for the best, he shut his eyes, swallowed back the lump of pain in his throat and returned to the warmth of the condo.

A small black package sat on the side table. He hadn't noticed it there before. His brow creased as he slowly stepped closer. Ominous and finite, the little package was incredibly intimidating. A gift. His fingers ran over the sleek black paper and silver ribbon.

Lucian couldn't recall the last time he had opened a present. Visions of childhood holidays with Isadora and Antoinette took him to another place and time. Jamie handing him a pack of baseball cards on his thirteenth birthday he had subtly slipped a mint Mickey Mantle into, Monique giving him a new set of dishes because she didn't care for the old ones. There was nothing in the past several years. How vacant and meaningless his life had become. His existence had turned into something utterly superficial.

Evelyn was so different from Monique. She lacked the sense of ent.i.tlement Monique had always displayed. He'd admired that greatly about Monique, saw it as confidence, but looking back it was more spoiled petulance than anything else. If she hadn't been so all determined to have everything how she wanted it, when she wanted it, she'd likely still be alive today. But he wasn't sure if they'd have stayed together.

Slade was always more indulgent when it came to Monique's tantrums and demands. He'd been the one that bought her that d.a.m.n bike to begin with. She should have never gotten on that thing, but after getting her way for so long, she accepted the word no less and less.

Evelyn, although stubborn in her own way, had a more rational side than Monique could have ever possessed. Evelyn listened and observed and, many times, he could see her brain processing new things she otherwise wouldn't know about. He liked that about her. Years ago he would've referred to Evelyn's outward personality as meek, but now he knew better.

Of the two, Evelyn was definitely the stronger. He hoped she wasn't so strong she'd stay away for good. Maybe she was stronger than him, because while she decided she didn't need him, he very much felt like he still needed her. She saw him in a way no one else did and he didn't want to lose her.

Lucian's presence was sought after for functions in which the purpose had lost all meaning. He couldn't even recall what he was supposed to be supporting last Monday at the museum. Details of Evelyn's crystal eyes and her ice blue gown ate up his memories of that night. It had been so difficult not to maul her the moment he set eyes on her. The memory of her soft skin as he zipped her gown still took his breath away. In that moment he had never wanted anything more than to peel that zipper down instead of up and splay her naked body wide for his pleasure.

Gazing down at the gift box, his finger slid under the silver satin ribbon and tugged. It slackened and slid from the box in a loop closely resembling a noose. He carefully peeled back the heavy paper, recognizing the name on the box from the boutique downstairs.

Plucking the box open, Lucian found crisp black tissue folded, covering a tiny nest that held a treasure inside. Without seeing what the actual gift was, he decided to love it on principle. Evelyn had picked this out. She had seen it and thought of him and that made it special.

As he peeled back the tissue he spotted polished, sleek leather, coiled like a snake. It was a belt, the brushed nickel clasp faded metallic, like gunmetal. Gently, his hands pulled the gift from the box.

As if he'd been given a ribbon of honor, he smiled and wanted to put it on immediately. It was a badge, proof that she thought of him even when he wasn't there. Gingerly placing it back in its box, he shut his eyes, overwhelmed with grat.i.tude for the thoughtful gesture.

This was not an inexpensive gift for someone of Evelyn's means. Scowling at the incredible gift, he wondered if she'd charged it to the room or foolishly used her own money.

"Oh, Evelyn . . ."

His thigh vibrated and he reached into his pocket for his phone. "Patras."

"Lucian, it's Shamus. How are you?"

"Hey, James. What's up?"

"I wanted to let you know that I met with the broker about the property on Macintosh. He says it's a go. You just need to have your attorney okay the paperwork and sign. Slade thinks it's a good deal. His attorney went over it yesterday."

"Where are you now?"

"I'm actually in your neck of the woods. Spent the night with a lovely woman by the name of Tammy."

"Sounds charming."

"Charming she certainly was not, but she could f.u.c.k like a sailor on leave so I'm not complaining. How's your little piece?"

It wasn't Jamie's fault the way he referred to Evelyn. He'd have no clue Lucian saw her differently than the rest, especially not after he provided him with a cheap show a few days ago.

"She's . . . she actually just left."

"Left, like ran to grab a paper or . . ." He let the question hang.

"She's gone."

"You okay, Luche? You don't sound too happy about that."

"I'm . . . I don't know. It's for the best I suppose. It wouldn't have worked out."

"That's a shame. She was a stunner. Those eyes . . . gave me something to think about for quite a few nights."

"She isn't like that, Jamie." His jaw locked. He didn't want Jamie thinking of her that way.

"All right. Settle down. Didn't know." He cleared his throat. "If she's so special, how come you let her go?"

"Slade hated her."

Jamie laughed. "Slade hates everyone at first. Lucian, please tell me you're not basing your choices on Slade's preferences. Monique's gone. You need to let her go. The both of you do. Besides, I think you're making a mistake if you find a keeper and decide to share her."

"You didn't think I was making a mistake when you were invited to watch."

"Watching and touching are two totally different things and you know it. Listen, I'm pulling up to Calgary's, then I'm coming over. You want me to grab anything before I get to the condo?"

"No, I'm good."

"All right, I'll see you in twenty."

Chapter 27.

Blockade A strategic placement of minor pieces intended to provide shelter from an attack Shadows crawled across the ceiling as the insidious ticking of the clock filled the room. It would soon be dawn and Lucian hadn't slept a wink. It had been the same for the past four nights. All he could think about was Evelyn. Was she safe? Was she warm? Was she thinking about him?

He tried to recall the shelter. He'd been in a rage the night he found her, showing up with a sole purpose, to get her the h.e.l.l out of there. There were more men than women. Every time he imagined her sleeping on that floor alongside other homeless residents, his gut twisted.

He must have slept for an hour or two. When he awoke at seven, it was to the sound of his cell vibrating quietly on the nightstand. Seeing it wasn't anyone he wanted to talk to, he silenced it and went to shower.

By noon, Lucian was on his way out the door to a meeting at Finks off the main line. Midweek check-ins clogged the lobby entrance. Jerome held the large gla.s.s-plated door and Dugan, in perfect timing, opened the pa.s.senger door of the limo.

"Good morning, Mr. Patras," the doorman greeted as he whisked by.

"Good morning, Jerome."

Nodding to Dugan, as he outran the chill and slid into the back of the car, the door closed and he was again submerged in warmth. They were soon on their way.

Finks was an open little joint specializing in Italian cuisine leaning more toward lighter fare. Lucian spotted the woman he was looking for as soon as he arrived.

She was dressed in a style he considered understated money. Her clothing was finely made, but subtle, lacking any pompous flare or designer tags. She stood on her burgundy square-heeled shoes as he approached the table.

"Mr. Patras," she greeted and smiled. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I admire what you've been doing with the old Poplar building." Her handshake was completely as.e.xual, not overcompensating; firm, but also lacking any feminine grace.

"Thank you for taking this meeting, Mrs. Morris."

"Please, call me Paula."

"Paula, then. And call me Lucian."

The waiter deposited menus and they each ordered their beverages. Business lunches were a strategy meant to distract and relax guests, and he always made sure not to fall too far into the comforts of the surroundings. He quickly ordered a light grilled chicken salad and handed back his menu, not wanting to waste too much time on the superfluous rituals of social etiquette.

"Slade tells me you're interested in St. Christopher's," Paula said before sipping from her sweet tea. "I must admit I'm a little surprised. I've watched your career at a distance and noticed you tend to stick to the more artistic charities. I'm flattered you're considering involving yourself with our shelter."

Leaning back he eyed his lunch companion with friendly ease. "I don't know anything about what it takes to run a shelter, I'll admit, but I'd like to make the conditions more . . . agreeable to the guests."

"Residents," she corrected. "That's wonderful. I'm not sure if Slade told you, but the fire inspector's been coming down on us pretty hard lately. The school is pa.s.sable, but the church should've been condemned years ago. It's a constant struggle to run a charitable organization when repairs are needed. Most of our budget goes to utilities and supplementing the pantries when supplies are low.

"Being that tomorrow's Thanksgiving, we'll have a surge of donations from local food banks that will get the residents through the next two weeks, but after that, as the holiday season approaches, people tend to get caught up in securing their own luxuries, rather than considering what the less fortunate actually need."

It had completely slipped his mind that tomorrow was Thanksgiving. That meant he'd be traveling back to the estate tonight and heading to Isadora's in the morning. The tediousness of a day with family immediately registered itself, forming a knot between his shoulders.

Paula continued to list the various needs of the shelter. He decided that while food was not an immediate issue, clothing was. He'd order bulk shipments of coats, gloves, hats, socks, and shoes and have them sent over as soon as possible. Next week he'd look into the building's structural issues and see what could be done there. Slade was on the factions committee, and he'd know best where to start.

Paula admitted to not being too sure about the facility's structural needs. She said after last year's battle with the township, it was a wonder they remained open at all. Slade had spearheaded the campaign to keep the shelter alive. Lucian was grateful he had.

No matter how much Slade didn't support his interest in Evelyn, he was still a philanthropist on some level. The shelter had been a cause of his since he graduated, taking up right where his mother had left off with the charity. He wondered if he was coming around on the Evelyn front or if he had called him the night he found her in hopes it would smother all interest Lucian had in the woman.

After taking care of the bill, he thanked Paula and promised to be in touch. Upon their return to the hotel, he told Dugan to hang tight and quickly packed his briefcase with things to keep him busy on the ride out of the city. Within the hour they were leaving Folsom and he was on his way to an intense, family-crammed holiday. His palms were already sweating.

Chapter 28.