Chapter 17
Falling In
By mid-June the city was sweltering. If leaving the hotel could be avoided, it was. Yet, Evelyn made a point to return to her own apartment at least once a week. She didn’t know why she did this, perhaps it was a needed reminder to both her and Lucian that she still stood apart from them and held a very fundamental part of her.
He grumbled when she made excuses to go home, and she usually returned by way of Dugan once Lucian’s patience ran out. But he never forbade her this private space and time, and she loved him all the more for granting her that significant escape. However, as time went on, she realized her apartment was not as magnificent as she’d once thought. It was shelter, and with that shelter came pride, but after a few hours wandering around the small vacant space, she’d soon begin to miss him.
During those quiet moments she did find time to contemplate her career. She wasn’t lying when she told Lucian she didn’t know what she wanted to do. Time would tell. As Jason taught her language arts he also broached other subjects. Her passions were still budding and eventually she’d choose a specific future to chase. Until then, she decided Lucian was right. She was better off focusing on her studies rather than working part time trying to make ends meet when he’d already met all her needs.
At the condo, even when he wasn’t there, he was. His scent was on the furniture. His personal items scattered throughout wore his mark. She realized she was beginning to wear the same mark. Lucian was simply so overwhelming he left fingerprints everywhere he touched. His fingerprints, she suspected, were taking shape on her soul.
Evelyn found it interesting that this was the first summer she’d actually held on to all of her belongings. Usually she was forced to stash a great deal of her things because lugging them around in the heat became unbearable, but this year all of her stuff was safely put away in closets and drawers.
When her bank statements showed up at the condo, she was grateful she’d never gone through the trouble of changing her information.
“You have mail,” Lucian said as she walked into the living room one hot afternoon.
“I do?”
“Yep.” He held out the envelope.
Her hands slowly took the paper and stared dumbly at it. She’d never had mail before. Her finger slid under the lip of the envelope and she unfolded the paper. There were the details of her account with a bunch of other stuff written on the statement. She smiled.
“I should really give this back to you if I’m not using it for my education.”
Lucian was busy doing something on his laptop. His glasses perched at the end of his nose, reflections from the computer screen showing on the lenses. He didn’t look at her. “Knock it off.”
She stuck out her tongue. “You’re grumpy today.”
“I’m losing a deal.”
She stilled. “The green deal? The big one?” She knew the deal was being threatened, but she never suspected he might actually lose it. It was Lucian. He didn’t lose.
“It’s always a big deal when you put over a year into something that never comes to fruition.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything you can do to fix it?”
“I’ve tried. I don’t know who I’m up against, and it’s pissing me off to no end. Somewhere in the past few months another company fell into the mix and they’ve taken arbitrage to a certain form of espionage. I’ll get over the loss, but I want to find out who’s screwing with my interests.”
“What’s the name of the company again?”
“We’re procuring the rights to a company called Labex. They build windmills all over the country and deal in cleaner energy.”
He was not in any sort of joking mood, and she wasn’t sure anything she could say would be welcome or helpful. Giving him his privacy, she grabbed a muffin off a tray and disappeared into the other room.
She turned on the television and nibbled her breakfast. There was something very unsatisfying about not being able to solve problems for Lucian. As she ate her muffin she watched Gilligan’s Island and tried to think of ways to put him in a better mood. Her mind ran over various images and she stilled when she thought about what he’d said, actually considered his words.
Cleaner energy. She wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but she knew what windmills were. There weren’t any in Folsom and being that she’d never left Folsom except to visit the estate, she wasn’t sure how she knew what they were.
She frowned as her mind kept returning to the same images of a man in a hard hat standing next to an enormous white tower surrounded by nothing but blue sky. There was another image floating around in her head of an enormous turbine in a warehouse.
Where had she seen that? On television? In a book? She sat up straight and her eyes suddenly went wide. “Parker.”
Tossing her muffin in the trash, she went to the bathroom and made quick work of getting ready. As she stared in the mirror, fixing her hair, she remembered images of the multiple books stacked throughout Parker’s apartment. The majority were worn-out paperbacks and novels, but there were some that caught her attention because they were nothing like what he usually read.
Several had pictures promoting eco-friendly trends, showing vibrant pictures of a greener earth. There were ones about solar energy and definitely some about windmills. She’d only flipped through them once, barely able to comprehend what she had seen, but that was where she’d seen the pictures.
Anger had her breathing heavily as she threw on shorts and a T-shirt. She needed to get past Lucian. Hopefully he was still distracted enough that she could make up some lame excuse and get away for an hour. So help her, if it was Parker—
“Are you going somewhere?”
She jumped and turned to find Lucian standing in the closet door. “I, uh, left a book at the apartment. I figured since you were working I’d go get it and do some studying.” Guilt burned through her as the lie passed her lips.
“Oh, okay. Isadora called. She wanted to know if we felt like coming by for dinner. She’s leaving for Italy soon and I’d like us to spend some time with her.”
“Sure.”
He stretched and pulled his glasses off his face. “I’m going to shower and get back to work. I’m getting a headache. You going to study?”
“Yes.” Well, research was more like it, but same difference.
He kissed her and disappeared into the bathroom. As soon as she heard the water turn on, she grabbed her sneakers and left. On her way past Lucian’s desk she stilled. His cell sat on top of his closed laptop. She glanced back at the door and, on impulse, grabbed the phone and set it to silent. She was on the elevator rushing to the ground three seconds later, her heart racing.
As the doors to the lobby parted, she finished tying her shoes. There were ways to be sneaky that reeked of guilt and knowingly doing something wrong, and then there were ways that were so in-your-face people missed the fact they were being outmaneuvered. There was little chance of her getting away with this blame free, but she decided to own it and go down fighting.
“Good morning, Mademoiselle Keats.”
“Good morning, Claude. Is Dugan around?”
The doorman pointed to the long line of cabs and cars. She spotted the limo at the end of the block. Taking quick, determined steps, she walked in that direction. Dugan must have spotted her. He stepped from the limo and gave her a curious look, then checked his phone.
“Ms. Keats?”
“Hey, Big D. I need a ride.”
He met her at the door and opened it. “Mr. Patras didn’t send me a text.”
“He’s in the shower.” The limo driver’s eyes narrowed beneath his bushy brows. “Look, I’m with you. I’m being honest. Text him if it makes you feel better, but I need to leave now and I’m either walking or getting a ride from you.”
He shut the door and withdrew his cell again. Moments later he was behind the wheel. “Where to?” he asked, easing the car from the curb and into traffic.
“Parker Hughes’s apartment building.” His head jerked and she met his challenging stare in the rearview. “Should I walk?”
Rather than answer her, he brought his phone to his ear and dialed. Lucian was likely just getting out of the shower, but he wouldn’t hear his phone ring. Deceit sat like heavy oil in the pit of her stomach, but it was better she deal with Parker than leave it to Lucian.
The entire ride there, Dugan’s phone never left his ear except to press Send again. He never made a peep, which meant he never got through to Lucian. He did, however, manage to take the longest possible route from A to B.
The limo pulled to the curb of Parker’s building and she got out. Dugan placed himself between her and the entrance. “I’m not sure what’s going on, Ms. Keats, but I know this isn’t okay with Mr. Patras.”
She shifted her weight and tried to reason with him. “Look, Dugan, I need to go in there. I told you to call Lucian if you want to and I had no doubt you would. I’m not hiding anything. This is only a detour. Just . . . please let me go.”
She brushed past him and he caught her arm. “Evelyn.” It was the first time he’d ever called her by just her name. She looked at him and his eyes were softened by age and worry. “You didn’t see him before. Don’t do that to him again. He loves you.”
She placed her hand on his. “I know. I love him too. That’s why I have to do this. Ten minutes, that’s all I need.”
Before he could stop her again, she rushed inside and took the elevator to Parker’s floor. The route to his door was familiar. Had she really lived here only a couple of months ago? It felt like a lifetime ago.
When she reached his door, she took a deep breath, made a fist and knocked hard. She heard movement inside and knew he was home. The door opened and he stared at her, confusion and a mix of concern tightening his brow.
“Scout? What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
He looked different from the last time she saw him. His face was no longer battered and he’d gained more weight. He was still fit, but gone was the gaunt look of years of starvation. He was no longer a lost cause. He was a man.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“With the company Lucian was dealing with. I know it’s you messing with him.”
His expression immediately shuttered. “What? Is he sending you to do his dirty work? Shows how much he—”
“Oh, cut the crap, Parker. You’re messing with his livelihood.”
He laughed, but it came out more as a snarl. “His livelihood? Are you kidding? He’s Lucian fucking Patras. He’ll get over it.”
“Will you? What you’re doing is wrong and you know it.”
“What I’m doing is business.”
“Business like the way your dad conducted his.”
His lips tightened. “I’m nothing like him.”
“You may want to check your reflection again, Park. You aren’t playing the game on even ground. That’s how it all starts, isn’t it?”
It was the first time Parker ever directed his anger at her. He stepped close and hissed, “What do you want me to do? Give it back? That isn’t how the real world works, Scout. I worked my ass off for this deal and if I get it, it’s because I’m the better man.”
“Will that help you sleep at night?”
“You have no idea what gets me through the night.”
“Why? Because I’m not there? This is all some pathetic game of revenge because I didn’t want you! I did want you, Parker. I wanted you to be my friend. But all that crap about just wanting me the way I am was just that. Crap. Having me as a friend was never going to be enough for you, and you ruined everything.”
Her voice cracked, but all the words she’d never had the strength to say suddenly came pouring out. “Why was that not enough? You say you loved me? When did you once prove it? You were my friend and you betrayed me and took our friendship away without asking.”
His face wavered from indignation to apologetic. He stiffened. “I can’t undo what’s been done.” The elevator bell sounded and she knew she only had a few seconds left.
“I know. That would be too much like the gentleman you claim to be and too far from the self-serving prick you truly are. That’s why I’ll always pick him first. He’d surrender anything if I asked it of him.”
“You think that—”
“I know that,” she snapped with absolute assuredness.
“Evelyn.”
She didn’t need to turn to see that Lucian found her. She looked up at Parker and said, “Our friendship is over. You hurt me and friendship can forgive some things, but I will never forgive you for going after him.”
When she turned, Lucian’s expression was assessing, but blanked. He’d clearly caught the last of her words and was piecing everything together. She didn’t need to justify coming to his defense.
She walked up to Lucian and said, “I know you’re pissed. I’m sorry. I can’t help that I want to protect you as much as you want to protect me.”
He brushed his finger over her chin and there was something inherently sad in his eyes she didn’t like. “Lucian?”
“Sweetheart, Pearl ran away.”
Ice shifted through her veins, and she forgot all about her mission. “Wh-what?”
“Pearl. She left the rehab this morning and no one can find her.”
“That’s impossible. Where would she go? She has no money.”
“One of the nurses turned in a report that her purse was stolen. She didn’t have much in there, but she had enough for cab fare.”
Evelyn’s world began to spin. She grasped her temples. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“We’ll find her. I have people driving around now and I put a call in to the local cab companies with her description. I can’t turn in a missing person’s report for a few more hours still.”
Arms wrapped around her as her knees went weak. “We’ll never find her.”
“We will. I promise,” Lucian said fiercely.
“What’s going on?” Parker’s voice rang like a distant reminder of his presence. Why did she come here? She wanted to be anywhere but here.
“It’s not your concern,” Lucian snapped, pulling her toward the elevator.
They’d have to go to the tracks. They’d have to go everywhere. Her mother was missing, and all she could think of was the sweltering stench of bodily waste and garbage that was going to greet them in every place they’d be forced to search.
“Goddamn her!” she suddenly hissed. “Why can’t she just be normal? Why does everything she does have to tear me apart? I’ll never forgive her for this! She was clean!”
She’d fallen into hysterics, which delayed their quick escape. Lucian cradled her face and spoke softly of things that should reassure her, but there was no getting Pearl back there once her mother realized she was free to leave.
The elevator made a sound and Parker held the door. “What do you think you’re doing?” Lucian growled.
“What do you think? I’m going to help find her mother. I know the places she goes.”
“Last time you offered your help it came with conditions. We’ll manage without you.”
“Whatever. I really don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m helping Scout.”
Lucian looked at her as she wiped her nose and eyes. He must have come to some decision, because the next thing she knew they were exiting the building as a group and climbing in the limo. Lucian’s Escalade was parked at the curb, forgotten.
Once inside, Lucian directed Dugan to the tracks. The ride was made in awkward silence. She couldn’t look at Parker. Her mind continued to arrange a slideshow of the worst-case scenarios.
When they reached the tracks, she went to open the door and Lucian held her back. “No.”
“I’ll go look,” Parker said, letting himself out. The door quickly closed behind him. This was where Parker had found his own mother’s body years ago. Would he find Pearl’s as well?
They waited for what felt like days. Parker had disappeared under the torn chain link fence and vanished into the old abandoned mill. Her tears had dried and her skin was cold.
“How long ago did she leave?” she croaked.
“The nurse said they think she left around seven a.m.”
“What time is it now?”
“Almost one.”
It was about a thirty-minute ride from the rehab to the city. Would Pearl even know an address to give the cab driver? She could have told him Folsom and directed him once he got closer to roads she recognized.
The door suddenly opened and Parker slid in. “She’s not there. No one’s seen her in months. Do you have hand sanitizer?”
Lucian reached in a compartment and tossed him a small bottle. “Where else can we look?”
“She’d most likely come back here,” Parker said as he cleaned his hands.
Lucian looked at her and she shrugged. “This was her home.”
“Is there anywhere else she went? Where did she get her drugs?”
“I got them for her. It was either that or watch her sell herself until there was nothing left.”
As he drew in a deep breath, she heard the way it shook. “Where did you buy them?”
She met his gaze. Showing him this side of her past was so much more painful than telling him about it. There was no diluting the truth when it was right before his eyes. “There’s an old school about eight blocks from here. There’s a house . . .”
The limo drove as Parker directed Dugan in the right direction. The few houses that marked the way were mostly abandoned or in ill repair.
She rubbed her head, weary from worry. The thought of what this day could still bring utterly exhausted her, but she’d get through it, because that was what she’d always done. Humpty Dumpty fell down, and she put her back together again and again and again.
The school came into sight. It was vacant beyond the fact that summer was here. Scout recognized the old familiar landmarks and pointed to a run-down house across the way. It was likely an apartment at some point, but had the bones of an old Victorian.
The siding was a faded shade of maroon. Trim was painted everything from green to blue. The crumbling cement steps were barely climbable. Graffiti was scribbled everywhere, even over the wood that filled the windows like patches over empty eye sockets.
The Victorian was the crack house where everyone went to get stoned. Next to it, the small, run-down white house with blue trim was where the dealer lived.
Lucian looked to Parker and he shook his head. “He’ll only talk to Scout.”
“I’ll need some money.”
Lucian scowled at her as if she were crazy. “You’re out of your mind if you think you’re going in there alone.”
“Lucian, if you go, he’ll shoot you. He’ll think you’re a cop or worse, someone poaching from his territory. Just give me a few dollars and I’ll be right out. He’s probably already loading his gun from the window wondering what the hell a limo’s doing in his front yard. I just want to find Pearl.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“Evelyn—”
Parker suddenly interrupted them. “I’ll go with her. He at least knows who I am. He doesn’t like me, but he’ll recognize me.”
Lucian’s jaw tensed. “I swear, if anything happens to her on your watch I’m holding you responsible. You have three minutes and I’m coming in.”
They climbed out of the car and approached the tiny white house. A sheet fluttered over the unbarred part of the window. They were being watched. She knocked, just as she always had, the quick, two short raps.
The knob turned and the door eased open as if by a phantom touch. They pressed through and she was immediately bombarded by the tainted scent of meth and rotting waste.
Piled-up trash crunched under her shoes, and she was incredibly grateful she wore her sneakers that day. A half-naked woman slept on a bare, stained mattress in the corner.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Scout. I’m getting one surprise after another today. You’re looking . . . well.” The dealer turned and scowled at Parker.
“Damien, we’re looking for Pearl. Have you seen her?”
He shrugged. “I see lots of people. I’m a very sought-after gentleman. Hard to keep track of who I do and don’t see.” He sat slouched on a broken couch. She made out the shape of a gun under the worn cotton of his pants.
“Please.” She held out the hundred-dollar bill Lucian gave her. “I only want to find Pearl.”
She never let Damien know Pearl was her mother. While they may have resembled one another at some point, those days were long over. Giving a man like Damien that sort of information only gave him more power.
He took the money and eased back in his seat. Feigning disinterest, he flipped back the sheet over the boarded window. Through the small cut-away space she saw the limo. They’d been gone about a minute.
“You’re rollin’ with a new kinda crowd now, eh, Scout? I’m thinking you could do a little better than this if you really wanted my attention. Why don’t you run on out there and ask your sugar daddy for some more money and I’ll help you find Pearl.
“Here, you piece of shit,” Parker said, tossing another two hundred on Damien’s lap. “Now tell us if you saw her.”
Damien picked up the money and tsked slowly. The girl in the corner moaned. The smell was getting to Evelyn and she felt like she was going to pass out if she didn’t get into some fresh air quick.
“I don’t recall inviting you in, boy. Why don’t you step outside so me and Scout here can have us a chat?”
“Not on your life.”
Damien’s lip lifted as if it were attached to a fishing hook. He laughed. “Ah, or maybe on yours.”
“Parker, go wait in the car.”
“Are you insane?” Parker hissed.
“Better do as she says . . . Parker.”
“I’m not leaving you here. You have about one minute before I’m the least of your problems so I suggest you talk.”
Damien sat up, his hand going to his waist. “What’s going on, Scout? Who’s in the limo?”
“No one. No one who wants any trouble. Look, Damien, please just tell me if you’ve seen Pearl and we’ll leave. If I’m not out of here within a minute, you’ll have company I know you don’t want. Just tell me what I paid you for and we’ll go.”
His bloodshot eyes narrowed. He seemed to be weighing his options. Unwanted company led to gunshots, which led to the police, which led to trouble for everyone. “A’ight. She was here first thing this morning. Bought her usual shit and left, just like you and boy wonder are gonna do right now.”
She nodded, a thousand knives tearing at her heart. There went her mother’s sobriety.
They left the house just as Lucian was getting out of the limo. She drew in a breath of fresh air that was hardly fresh. Everything around that place smelled of decay.
She quickly walked to the limo.
“Did you find out anything?”
“She bought heroin this morning. That means she’s not far. If I know my mom, she went to the first dark corner she could find to get high.”
The three of them turned and looked at the three-story Victorian. She was most likely in there.
Evelyn suddenly couldn’t move. All of her life she’d had this despicable vision of finding her mother dead. Each time she knew Pearl had gotten high she feared it would be that moment come to life.
Chances were they’d find her all doped up, she wouldn’t recognize any of them, and they’d be carrying her like a screaming banshee out of there. But the little girl in her, the one who many times tried and failed to wake her doped-up mom, feared that wasn’t the worst they could find.
Dugan appeared and handed Lucian a gun. Fuck, things were getting out of hand. “I’ll go look for her and come get you if I find her,” she said.
Lucian nodded at Dugan in some sort of code. She looked up as Dugan’s large shadow blocked the sun. The chauffeur stepped close. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.”
She squinted at him. “What?” He grabbed her and she jerked, unsure why he was suddenly restraining her, but his grip was too strong.
Lucian turned to her. “Parker and I will go in while you wait here.”
“What? No! I’m going in. It’s my mother.” He was already walking away. “Dugan, let go of me!”
“It’s for your own safety, Ms. Keats.” He dragged her to the limo and she struggled as he shoved and shut her inside. Her fingers jammed against the handle as the safety locks engaged. She smacked her palms against the glass and screamed. “Let me out!”
There were dangerous, rotted places in the house that wouldn’t hold the weight of two grown men. Parker wouldn’t know where those spots were hidden because he never went in there.
She abandoned the door, scurried across the carpeted floor, and climbed over the front seat. Her fingers shook as she found the main controls and unlocked the door, wrenching it open. Dugan cursed and grabbed her. His fingers bit into her arms and tears rushed to her eyes.
“You don’t understand! I have to go with them!”
“I’m sorry,” was all he said as he refused to let her go.
She struggled, urgent concern choking her. “Please, Dugan. He could get hurt. They could both get hurt.”
“I’m sure they’ll be back in a few minutes. Why don’t you get back in the car?”
She nodded in defeat and turned to face the building. The cracked foundation and hollow windows were weathered beyond repair. Drawing in a deep breath, she winced, fully admitting to herself she was crazy, turned, and slammed her knee in Dugan’s groin.
He buckled like she predicted and released her arm. “I’m sorry,” she called over her shoulder.
As she raced into the building, the chauffeur wheezed her name. Her feet kept moving. The stench just inside the door was rancid. Her eyes adjusted to the sooty darkness. Floors that hadn’t seen the light of day in years were covered with a slippery layer of dust marked with footprints.
Trash littered the perimeter, and floorboards whined under her weight. Moving quickly, knowing just where to put her feet from force of long habit, she listened for where Lucian might be.
A thick banister lined the broken steps. Peeking in the large rooms on the first floor, junkies lazed here and there, mostly stoned out of their minds and uncaring of her presence. She didn’t see Lucian or Parker, which meant they’d likely already searched those rooms for Pearl.
Taking the stairs, she carefully placed her steps. At the top, she knew to avoid a soft patch of floor. Remnants from a demolition that had started long ago and never completed were piled in the middle of the largest room on the second floor. As welcome as a beam of light would be, whenever the sun pressed through a crack, it only drew her attention to how putrid this place really was.
Something shattered beneath the weight of her rubber-soled shoe, small and narrow like a crack pipe. Steady footsteps sounded behind her, echoing with heavy breath. She rushed around the pile of nails, wood, and wire, in search of Pearl or Lucian.
The low baritone of male voices drew her attention. Lucian’s broad shoulders filled the doorway of what was likely once a bedroom.
“Jesus, don’t let that be her . . .” he whispered.
“I’ll go check,” Parker said and Lucian stilled him before he entered the room to inspect whatever they were staring at.
“She’s looking at us.”
Evelyn stilled. There was something so wrong with that statement. Her blood ran cold and her limbs trembled. Her sense of speech disappeared as she watched Lucian’s expression. Her mother was dead. She had to be dead. Why did he look like that?
Halting footsteps echoed behind her, then someone grabbed her arm and she screamed. Dugan held her with unbreakable strength.
Lucian pivoted and his face contorted with outrage. “Get her out of here!”
Words she couldn’t decipher were said and voices rose. Parker stepped out of sight and that’s when everything stopped moving in slow motion and picked up double time.
There was a horrible creak and Lucian turned. He shouted and Dugan ran, albeit with a hunching gait, after Lucian. Evelyn chased after Dugan, who blocked her way. She wedged her body into the room just as Parker’s body lost balance. The house moaned like a burg slamming into the earth from a thousand miles away. Lucian threw out his arms and Parker skidded across the floor. The noise became deafening and suddenly the floor collapsed, a cloud of dust and rotted wood particles rising in its place.
As the gaping hole came into view, every nerve ending tensed and she screamed at the top of her lungs. He was gone.
“Lucian!”
Dugan restrained her as she kicked and screamed, fully prepared to fall into hell after him. As the dust settled, her frantic eyes landed on her mother’s face. She wasn’t blinking. With all this dust, she wasn’t moving, and a trail of dried blood trailing from her discolored mouth matted with the dirt falling through the air.
It was too much. With superhuman strength, she threw Dugan off of her and rushed down the stairs, twisting her ankle on the broken step along the way.
She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.
Limping, she gripped the doorjamb. There was an enormous pile of scrap. “Lucian! Answer me!”
The dust was still settling. The leather sole of his shoe peeked out beneath a board hammered with rusty nails. “Jesus Christ!”
Like claws, her hands reached into the debris, careless of scrapes and cuts, her flesh tearing as she sifted the larger pieces out of the way. “Baby, say something. Please.” Where was his face?
Hurling a large piece of wood out of the way, she finally found him. His eyes were closed and his skin was covered with fallen clay and dirt. She carefully climbed over the debris and touched his face, leaning close to hear him breathing. “Lucian, Lucian, baby, open your eyes. Please open your eyes.”
Her face burned as tears smudged past her lashes. The grit was blinding. “He’s not waking up! Somebody help me!”
There was movement above her, but she couldn’t take her gaze off of Lucian. It wasn’t right for him to lay there so unconscious and vulnerable. She pressed her lips to his and whispered, begging for him to please open his eyes. He groaned and she jerked back.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just relax. We’ll get you out of here.”
A crude curse rasped softly over her whimpered cries.
She started as Dugan was suddenly behind her. He lifted away the boards she couldn’t move and did a quick check of his body. He cursed. “I’m going to have to call an ambulance. I don’t know if anything’s broken and I don’t want to shift him and make it worse.”
Dugan made the call and she continued to comfort Lucian any way she could. Within minutes the whine of sirens in the distance could be heard. Her body wouldn’t stop shaking.
She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.
Her hands gripped her hair and pulled hard.
He’s gonna be okay. He’s gonna be okay. He’s gonna be okay.
When the EMTs arrived, she slid into the corner, feeling more at home in the shadows of a crack house than in their presence. Silently, she rocked as a brace was clamped around Lucian’s neck and a plank was slid beneath his body. Her mind was going a mile a minute.
Straps wrapped around him as he was lifted up, and then he was on a gurney. As they wheeled him away, the gaping void was too far to cross, too real, too painful, too terrifying. He was leaving her.
Pearl’s empty eyes, Lucian’s body being taken away, a mad carousel whirled through her head, mocking her.
What about Momma? Where do I go?
“Scout!” She jerked at the sound of Parker’s voice.
“You need to go with him,” he said and she vibrated with fear. “Do you hear me? He needs you. Get up and go with him before they leave.”
She couldn’t make any words come. Her legs refused to work. Her thoughts fragmented, snapping into a million pieces, each one too heavy to bear. The carousel went round again, her mother’s lifeless, bloodshot eyes staring through that dust, and Lucian lying still as a corpse.
“Scout! Go!”
“I can’t!”
“Yes. You. Can.”
Her head shook senselessly. “She’s dead. I can’t lose him too.”
“You’re not going to lose him, now come on!”
Her body was yanked off the ground, dragged out of the horrid-smelling building and into the street. Her vision protested as the sun pierced her eyes. The ambulance conquered the limo in height. Parker hauled her along, and Lucian’s feet came into view as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. There were lights and people in uniforms and machines, and it was all very scary.
“She’s going with him,” Parker demanded.
“Who is she?” a man in a uniform asked.
“She’s his fiancée,” Dugan announced, barring any arguments.
She turned to Dugan. “My mom . . .”
“I’ll handle everything, Evelyn. You go with Lucian now.”
She blinked, suddenly wanting to hug him for being there, but all she could manage was a jagged nod.
She was lifted into the car and tried her best to sink into the stiff bench and hide. The doors closed and hands probed at Lucian’s limbs. She knew they were helping him but she wanted to throw herself over him protectively and scream that they stop touching him.
A cuff wrapped around his arm and his eyelids were lifted so a man could shine a light in his eyes. His face was powdered with debris and a bruise tinted his temple. There was blood crusted on his lip. She looked away when he didn’t respond to the light glaring in his eyes. The ambulance lurched and rushed over the roads adding to her dizziness.
“Ma’am, hold on to that strap.” It took her a minute to realize the man in the uniform was speaking to her. Robotically, she did as he instructed.
There was so much noise between the ambulance moving, the machines, the walkie-talkies, and all the equipment rattling on the walls. Every breath seemed deliberate and forced. Her hand reached out and touched the cool feathered strands of Lucian’s hair. It was the only place she was certain she wouldn’t hurt him.
Movement caught her eye as the EMT took a pair of scissors and began cutting Lucian’s shirt away. “What are you doing?” she demanded.
“We need to check his ribs.”
“You’re ruining his clothes.”
“That’s the least of his problems,” the guy mumbled, and she gasped, pressing her knuckles to her mouth and sucking back a sob.
“Sorry, I just meant after a fall like that he probably has a broken rib or two. His vitals are good, so there’s no need to get too upset.”
She ignored him. Why wouldn’t he wake up? Open your eyes and look at me! You said you’d never leave me!
When they reached the hospital, things went from scary to terrifying. She hated these places for a reason. Lucian was hauled through a set of electronic doors, faster than she could keep up with.
“Miss? Excuse me, Miss! You’re going to have to wait here until the doctor sees him.”
“But . . . I’m . . . I’m his fiancée.”
“Sorry. That’s not the same as wife. I’ll let the doctor know you’re waiting.”
She turned and the world continued to spin. Her mom was dead and she couldn’t go wherever they were taking Lucian. Faces stared at her as she stood there, unsure of where to go. A police officer approached her and she took a step back.
Like an animal cornered, she shrilled, “I’m waiting for my fiancé!”
The officer held up his hands. “Okay, but you need to take a seat. You’re blocking the patient entrance.”
She nodded and jerkily walked to the closest chair and forced herself to sit. The officer looked like he was going to say something else, but then an alarm started to beep and a nurse called out a code. The doors she had been waiting by opened and her heart stopped.
Lucian stood, face haggard, sweat dotting his brow, shirt cut open, his weight braced on the wall. Nurses rushed toward him and he slowly lifted a shaky arm and pointed directly to Evelyn.
“She comes with me.” He sounded nothing like himself.
Evelyn sobbed in relief and ran to him. “You’re awake,” she cried as her arms carefully hugged him and he winced.
“Sir, this is a hospital—”
“I’m aware. I paid for several wings. Now go back to your desk and get out of my way.” His voice was stern and left no room for argument.
As they turned, he draped a goodly amount of weight on her shoulders, nearly collapsing her to the floor. An obviously irritated doctor scowled at him.
“Get me out of this curtained tent and put me in a real goddamn room before I find some other hospital to support. And someone contact Dr. Sheffield and get her here. Now!”
A nurse produced a wheelchair, but looked none too happy at assisting Lucian. Evelyn gripped the hand that didn’t seem to be bothering him as they raced down the long hall and entered an elevator. They rode in silence, Lucian appearing to have depleted his strength, but he never let go of her hand.
They traveled down one long corridor after another until they finally entered a room. It was nothing like she expected. The walls were creamy butter yellow and paneled in dark cherrywood. The bed was made in soft linens and the windows were draped with thick valances. A couch sat along one wall and a large sink adorned the other. Aside from the railing on the bed, it looked more like a hotel room than a hospital room.
The nurse grumbled a few words about the doctor and helped Lucian get settled. Evelyn once again felt pushed away, so she went the couch and waited for the doctors to tell her he would be okay. She needed someone to confirm that he would be okay. By the time the nurse shut the door, his eyes were closed.
She backed up to the couch and lowered her weight.
Pearl’s dead.
“Hey.” He sounded like he swallowed a handful of gravel. His eyes were mere slits.
She needed to be strong. “Hey.”
“I’m so sorry about your mother.”
Her vision blurred and she nodded. “I always knew I’d find her that way.”
“I’m still sorry. I wanted to help her. I wanted to save her for you and I couldn’t.”
For some reason it was easier to talk about Pearl than the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed. “No one could. She was her own worst enemy.”
Silent moments passed. He drifted off as she wept. Her fingers were filthy and bloody.
“Why are you all the way over there?”
Startled by his voice, she sniffled. “What?”
“Come over here.”
“You’re hurt,” she protested.
“I’m fine. Come here.”
Slowly Evelyn stood and moved beside the bed. He sighed and grabbed her wrist. “Here. Come here. Lay with me.”
“I can’t. I’ll hurt you—”
“Will you knock it off?” He tugged her and she climbed onto the bed, curling into his side, careful not to put any weight on him. He hugged her close. “It’ll be okay, Evelyn. I’ll be out of here soon and we’ll work everything out.”
She nodded and pressed her face into his shoulder. “I was so scared when you didn’t wake up. If anything bad happened to you I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive her. All the things she’s ever done to me, put me through . . . watching you fall through that floor trying to get to her—” Her words cut off with a sob. “It’s her fault you got hurt.”
“Shh. I’ll be fine.” He rubbed her arm, soothing swirls of fingers leaving goose bumps in their wake, and after several minutes he asked. “Did Parker get out okay?”
“What? Parker’s fine.”
“I didn’t know if I got there in time. I saw him going down and I just reacted. I couldn’t watch you lose your mother and friend all in one day.”
The entire event rolled through her head, unfolding moments she’d been too upset to see before. “You saved him.”
“I couldn’t let him fall.”
“Oh, God, Lucian.” She was grateful he didn’t let Parker get hurt, but angry he did so at the cost of his own safety. She needed to tell him. “Parker’s the one who’s stealing that company from you.”
“I know. I put it together when I got Dugan’s messages saying you made him drive you there. I heard what you told him. When will you stop trying to protect me and let me do the protecting?”
She swallowed. “I was so angry with him, but then, today, after . . . after they took you . . . he forced me to get up. Made me keep moving. He told me you needed me. I was so scared, but he wouldn’t let me quit on you.”
His lips pressed to her temple. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Are you hurt?”
There was a knock on the door and Dr. Sheffield came in. Her slight figure showing under a white lab coat, hair and makeup perfect, posture impeccable in those tall heels. She held a clipboard and shook her head. “This looks about right. I get a call saying there’s some problematic patient demanding all sorts of special treatment and my presence yesterday. I should have known it was you. What happened?”
Evelyn tried to sit up, but Lucian tightened his grip.
“Stay there, Evelyn. The scared ones need their security blankets,” the doctor said as she moved to the foot of the bed. “It’s nice to see you again, by the way.”
“Very funny, Vivian. I fell through a floor.”
“Well, that wasn’t smart. Says here you got knocked out for a bit. What hurts?”
“My arm and my head.”
She placed her clipboard down and reached in a drawer. Producing scissors, she made quick work of cutting away the remainder of his sleeve. Dr. Sheffield examined the arm and he winced. “Hmm. It hurts because it’s broken. See this? That’s not supposed to be there. You’re going to need a cast, and if you argue with me about it, I’ll plaster your mouth shut. How’s your breathing? Your chart says your ribs may be broken.”
“It hurts.”
“I’m going to run some x-rays and an MRI. While you’re gone doing that—and behaving like the quintessential good patient—I’m going to chat with Evelyn.” She left for a moment and returned with a nurse and a wheelchair. “Bonny, this is Lucian Patras. He’s very grateful you offered to take him down to radiology.”
Evelyn sat up and helped Lucian out of the bed and into the chair. Reluctance to watch him leave again had her gripping his good hand. Just as Bonny was wheeling him out of the room, Dr. Sheffield called, “Oh, and Lucian, you’re going to need a tetanus shot.”
He cursed and then he was gone. The doctor faced her and smiled. “He’s such a baby. How are you doing?”
“I’m . . . okay.”
The doctor made a sympathetic smile. “You’re limping. I heard about your mother. I’m so sorry, Evelyn. There are fantastic grief counselors here at the hospital if you want to speak to anyone. Lucian’s name carries a lot of weight. They’re at your disposal if you need them.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather work it out on my own. Do you know how long he’ll have to stay here?”
She sighed. “I was hoping you’d be the one to convince him to stay if it was for the best.”
“Sorry. I hate hospitals.”
“A match made in heaven. If his x-rays and MRI check out and it’s just the arm and ribs, we can have him wrapped up in no time and home before dinner. If I spot any signs of internal bleeding or other issues, I’m going to insist he stays. I don’t give a hoot what his name is.”
Evelyn stared at the doctor for a long minute and then finally found the courage to ask what she’d wanted to ask since their first meeting. “How do you know Lucian? I mean, aside from being his personal physician? How did you meet?”
She smiled. “I’m shocked you waited this long to ask. I’m Shamus’s sister.”
Evelyn’s mouth drooped open like a trout. “But your last name’s Sheffield.”
“Yes, and I’m happily divorced, but I was married when I got my MD. I’ve known Lucian since he was a baby and spent most of my adult years torturing him for all the ways he used to torture me when I was a girl.”
“I see it now . . . in the set of your eyes and your smile.”
“Well, I look more like my mother. Shamus gets his curls and freckles from my father.”
“How come you weren’t at his party the other week?”
“I was here. That reminds me, I may break Lucian’s other arm for buying Shamus that death trap. Now, let me look at your ankle.”
Evelyn lifted her leg and winced under the weight of her sneaker. The doctor’s cool hands gently probed. “That’s quite a sprain you have there. How about I wrap it for you?”
Evelyn nodded and the doctor left for a moment. The silence was too much. Her mother’s face, unblinking eyes, haunted her every thought.
“Okay, this should do,” Dr. Sheffield said as she returned to the room. “I’ll show you how to wrap it and if you keep it elevated for—Oh, Evelyn . . .” She tossed the bandage aside and Evelyn was suddenly wrapped up in the doctor’s arms as sobs racked her body.
“I did everything I could and it still wasn’t enough,” she cried. “Everything! I was never enough, never a reason for her to stop killing herself. Why wasn’t I good enough? Why?”
“Shh. Oh, honey, your mother’s death has nothing to do with anything you did or didn’t do. She was an addict. But that long, painful journey she always took alone is over, and now she’s finally found some peace.”
Evelyn cried beyond countable minutes. It hurt to love her mother from the time she was young. There were no selfless whispers of hope breathed to her in sleep. No encouraging expectations or coddling during the moments she was too weak. It was always the wrong way, her doing for her mother who loved her heroin—always—a little bit more than she loved her daughter.
The doctor’s hair smelled of berries. Her embrace was a warm pillow wrapped around Evelyn’s fragile heart. Once she got her sobs under control, Dr. Sheffield produced a damp cloth and washed the grime from her face as if she were a small child. Deft fingers with cherry-painted nails wrapped her ankle.
Just as the doctor clasped the small metal clip to hold the brace in place, Lucian returned.
“What happened to your leg?” he snapped, attempting to get up and slumping back into the wheelchair.
“Easy there,” the nurse, pressing a hand into Lucian’s shoulder, said.
He glared at her and Dr. Sheffield stood. “It’s just a sprain, Lucian. She’ll be fine. How did the x-rays go?”
The nurse and the doctor went over the x-rays. Lucian’s arm needed to be set. Everything was done in an uninterrupted blur of one event after another. Scout held Lucian’s good hand and never took her eyes off their intertwined fingers. It was long past dark when Dugan showed up and they were permitted to leave.
Lucian had three badly bruised ribs, a broken radius, a dislocated shoulder, and several lacerations on the shoulder that took the brunt of the impact when he fell. His temple was bruised, but he was not concussed. His lip was split, but the bleeding had stopped and there was no need for stitches. They wheeled him out because there was some rule about being wheeled out if you were wheeled in. She’d hobbled behind him until Lucian insisted she ride on his lap.
When they got to the limo, he shut her inside for a moment to talk to Dugan. Typically, she would have objected to being left out, but she was simply too tired to complain. By the time they reached the hotel, they were both dead on their feet. They made quite a spectacle, walking through the lobby, her limping along, him holding his ribs, as his casted wrist lay cradled in a sling over the only remaining shred of his dress shirt.
They walked into the bedroom without turning on a single light. Neither of them seemed interested in catching their reflection by chance. Silently, they assisted each other with their clothing until they were both naked.
She pulled back the covers and helped him in. Gingerly, she padded around the bed to her side. When she climbed in, he drew her close with his uninjured arm, and she pulled the covers over their tired bodies. And then they slept for what felt like days.