Chapter 8
Chastised and then some . . .
Unlike normal kids, Evelyn never had a room to be sent to. There was never a specific age at which point she could cross the street, because that would be like marking a time for a toddler to cross the kitchen in a typical home. She never went to school, so she never really could get into trouble there either. Her life followed the simplistic cause-and-effect patterns of nomads, and every consequence she ever faced had been a natural one.
Her knee bounced anxiously. Dugan stood across the common area of the condo, arms braced over his broad chest, scowling at her. She’d given up trying to reason with him. The uncomfortable nausea that swirled in her belly, a mix of panic and uncertainty, battled with the indignity of being treated like a child.
“I wouldn’t have let him rob me,” she snidely said to her chaperone. His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Unable to match his stare, she lowered her gaze to her lap and waited. They had been sitting there for over thirty minutes. She knew they were waiting for Lucian, but she didn’t know for how long. He had meetings all day and didn’t plan to be back until seven. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Long ago she’d given him her word that she wouldn’t venture into that section of the city alone. Today she broke her word. That bordered on lying, something Lucian had zero tolerance for.
The private elevator to the master suite pinged softly in the hall. The mechanical buzz following the swipe of a keycard sounded. Evelyn’s breathing accelerated. Maybe it was just housekeeping. The sound of Lucian’s briefcase hitting the hall table told her it wasn’t. She sat up straight and waited.
Lucian walked around the corner, jaw set as though it were made of granite, eyes a stormy shade of the darkest onyx, and his movements stiff as stone. He didn’t look at her.
Dugan moved from his post at the wall and nodded to Lucian. Lucian walked right past her, somehow avoiding making any eye contact, and moved to stand in front of the glass window. She didn’t turn or say a word. The air seemed to be escaping the condo by the second, making it harder and harder to breathe.
Facing forward, she could only make out his shadow in her left peripheral from where she sat on the sofa. The door to the condo clicked shut. The elevator gave a muffled ping, and then took Dugan off to wherever he was going. Evelyn had no idea what having a father felt like, but seeing Dugan go sort of felt like her last hope of any champion was abandoning her.
Silence.
As the quiet consumed her and everything else around her, she began to notice sounds she usually overlooked. Traffic, thirty-two stories below, whisked by in a shushed hum. The clock on the accent table actually clicked with each second. Lucian’s breathing was measured and heavy, but slow as well.
“Do you mind telling me what the fuck you were doing there?”
She jerked in her seat as his initially quiet question ended in a shout. He turned and faced her from behind his desk.
“I—”
“You could have been killed!” he bellowed, his hand sweeping across the messy surface, taking everything, including the antique lamp perched at the corner, with it.
She instinctively flinched, her back pressing further into the cushions of the couch.
“I share everything with you! My homes, my possessions, my staff, my money, I even give you my goddamn heart, but you can’t even offer me the truth!”
He was shouting in a way she had never heard him speak before. Lucian didn’t raise his voice. When he spoke softly he was menacing enough to demand the attention of an entire auditorium. Her throat constricted and even if she had something to say she wouldn’t have been able to get words past the lump choking her.
The hot burn of an unexpected tear flipped over the edge of her lashes and skittered down her cheek.
“Say something!”
“I don’t know what to say . . .” she whispered in a voice so constricted she could barely hear it herself.
“How about telling me what you were looking for?” Then his face contorted and he sneered, “Or should I say who?”
Be honest. “I wanted to find Parker, to see if he was okay.”
“And you felt the need for secrecy why?”
She shrugged stupidly. “I knew it would make you angry. I didn’t want you to worry about anything.”
“If there was nothing to worry about, then why not tell me what you were really doing? Why be deceptive?”
“I wasn’t trying to be—”
“Bullshit.” He was suddenly in front of her, leaning over her, boxing her in. “You purposely tried to keep this from me. Why, Evelyn?”
“I don’t know!” she sobbed.
“You know.”
“I don’t. I didn’t want you to be angry—”
“Tell me the truth!” he snapped. “Say it.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say!” She pleadingly reached for his face, but he ripped his body away before she could touch him. “Lucian, please—”
“Just admit it.”
She didn’t understand what he was trying to get her to admit. “Admit what?”
“You fucking love him!”
Her breathing stilled and her mouth opened. She stared unblinking at Lucian’s back as her mind tried to wrap around his words. Finally, she croaked, “What?”
In a voice sounding defeated and all too quiet, he whispered. “You love him.”
“Lucian . . . no.” How could he think such a thing?
“Then why?”
“I don’t know why. I was worried about him. That’s all. I swear it. I don’t see him that way. Please, believe me. I haven’t seen or talked to him since we had that fight last fall. It’s been months. The man at the shelter said he’s been gone for a while.” Her voice broke as she cried. “I’m worried he’s . . . what if something bad happened?”
Lucian turned on her, his face haggard, but his eyes again narrowed on her. “And what if something did happen? What if you found him and he said he needed you? What would you do then, Evelyn? Would you go to him?”
“That’s not a fair question.”
“Would you?”
“I’d want to help him if I could, but only because he’s my friend.”
“And what if he was just fine? What if he somehow made it off the street just like you did? Would that change your feelings?”
She shook her head. “Parker has no one. I don’t think that’s what happened. Lucian, I swear, I only went because I can’t shake this feeling that he’s in trouble, like something bad happened to him.”
“Do you intend to continue to look for him?”
He seemed to hold his breath, as did she. There was no right answer to that question. She couldn’t look at him. Lowering her gaze to her hands fisted in her lap, she whispered, “I need to know he’s okay.”
There was no sound. No reaction to her words. Minutes passed. They seemed to reach a stalemate. Finally, Lucian sunk into the chair across from her.
She peeked at him from under her lashes. She was completely unprepared for the desolate look in his eyes. Instinctively, she went to him, but as she reached for his hands, he flinched away from her touch. “I need you to not touch me right now, Evelyn. Please go away.”
Pain crushed down on her chest. Air choked off as an agonized whimper left her throat. Her hands began to shake so violently even her shoulders trembled. Tears fell unchecked from her eyes, skittering down her cheeks and dropping onto her knee to mark and soak the fabric there. She wiped at her suddenly runny nose with her cold fingers and sat back, nodding.
When she found the strength, she stood and awkwardly walked to their bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do.
Should she pack her things? Move her belongings to the guest room? She’d never known such an ugly, unwanted worthlessness. Her voice spilled past her lips in a sharp, gasping sob. She didn’t know what to do.
Thinking things couldn’t get any worse, she realized just how stupid she was. The sound of the front door opening and slamming closed echoed through the empty condo. She had finally pushed too hard. He hated her. And he’d left.