AFTER A LONG-DRAWN-OUT ARGUMENT, BIRDIE finally agreed to leave on the condition that I check in with her every day and let her know what was happening or if I needed her. I promised her that I would, but even that felt like a lie.
In truth, I didn’t want to think about it, but I also couldn’t stop. I’d spent the entire day on Google doing my own research before I finally decided to call a cancer hotline for information. So far, what I’d learned about Lucian’s condition hadn’t been as hopeless as I’d automatically assumed. It was cancer, but it was a highly curable cancer with treatment success even in late stages.
But in my heart, I knew that wasn’t the real issue. Birdie told me that Lucian refused treatment, and if the notes I saw in the file were accurate, then it was true. It wasn’t something I wanted to wrap my head around. I didn’t want to believe that he’d just given up on living, but on reflection, his actions and words told me everything I needed to know.
He’d been preparing me for goodbye since the beginning. Even after he’d told me that he cared for me, he wanted me to know what we had was temporary. I’d been such an idiot.
All this time, I believed that maybe he would change his mind. I saw the affection in his eyes when he looked at me. I felt it in his every touch. And foolishly, I wanted to believe that I was more to him than something he could just throw away in the end.
I couldn’t figure out when it all turned upside down, but it had. I was in love with Lucian West. I was having his baby. And he was ready to give up and leave this world… and me… behind.
I spent the day alternating between hatred and sorrow, trying to determine the best course of action from this point forward. There were really only two options in this scenario.
The old Gypsy would have run. She would have run far, far away and pretended this chapter of her life had never happened, closing her heart and protecting herself from the inevitable pain to follow. But I wanted to believe there was more to me than that now.
I wanted to believe I was braver, smarter, stronger… and most of that was because of what Lucian had done for me. He’d saved me, and I accepted it, never knowing that he was the one who needed saving too.
I stared into the cavernous space of the closet we shared, my eyes moving to the items I’d already folded and packed, then unpacked several times over. I was exhausted and emotional, but this wasn’t a time in my life when I could take the easy way out. There was no easy way. If I ran, I’d be deluded to believe that Lucian would ever leave my mind or my heart.
He was my forever, and I couldn’t give him up without a fight.
It wasn’t just up to him. He didn’t get to decide for both of us. I was determined to change his mind. We would get through this ugliness, just like we’d made it through all the ugliness of our past lives. Except this time, we would do it together.
Emmanuel’s trial was starting tomorrow, so I made a conscious decision to wait until at least the first day in court had finished before I broached the subject. Even that felt like it would be an awful time, given Lucian’s projected exhaustion, but there wouldn’t be a good time to discuss it.
We just had to talk about it.
That was the only thing that mattered. At least, I thought it was.
I’d expected Lucian home around eleven. He said he wanted to get at least six hours of sleep before he got up in the morning, and even though he’d been working late every night, he was always home by eleven.
I waited up for him. I’d made him a late snack of fresh berries, just in case he was hungry. I’d showered and dressed in a silky nightgown for him, hoping that I could offer to relieve some of his tension. And then I curled up on the couch and waited.
He didn’t come home at eleven.
He didn’t come home at twelve.
And when I woke up and checked the time again, it was almost one a.m. and still no Lucian.
My airways felt like they’d sealed shut as I texted him and stared at the screen, waiting for a reply. It didn’t come, so I called him. Three times. And all three times, his phone went to voicemail.
I paced the length of the room while I texted Ace, whom Lucian had made me add to my contacts, just in case. Ace texted me back, unconcerned, telling me that Lucian always went a little crazy before a trial. But in my gut, I knew that wasn’t it. Lucian should have been home by now, and if he wasn’t, there was something wrong.
I grabbed a long coat from the closet and tied it around myself, concealing my nightgown as I snagged my car keys from the hall table. I drove to Lucian’s office, but his car wasn’t in the lot.
I tried dialing him again, but the phone went straight to voicemail. There were only so many places he could be at this late hour, and I knew from experience the church would be locked. But there was still a possibility he might be visiting with Cristian, so I drove there anyway. His car wasn’t there either. And that left only one other place I could check. It was my last resort.
I drove to the club with white knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel. Lucian should have no reason to be there. That was what I kept telling myself as I blasted music with the window down to keep myself from thinking too much. But when I pulled into the lot, I recognized the Dodge Demon with Nevada plates right away. And when I swallowed, it felt like a handful of nails had lodged in my esophagus.
Why was he here?
That was the only question I had because I already knew what he’d be doing. There was only one reason for him to come here, but I didn’t know why. The why was what haunted me as I got out of the car and walked to the door, entering the same pin code I’d witnessed Lucian enter before.
Inside, I was stopped in the foyer, at the ready with an explanation, but the guys at the door were the same ones I’d seen before, and they recognized me immediately.
With a brisk pat down and a nod, I was granted entry into the house, and a part of me almost regretted it. I didn’t want to see what waited for me upstairs, but my feet drew me there regardless.
Up, and up, and up, I climbed until I reached that secret room that Lucian had first taken me. I took a deep breath and braced myself as I entered, uncertain how bad it was going to be. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found next.
Lucian was there, but he was alone. Sitting in a chair, staring into the distance at the empty table that was often used to secure his previous pain toys.
“Lucian?”
He looked back at me when I said his name, and I saw something so dead in his eyes, it scared me. This wasn’t the Lucian that I knew. This man was empty. This man was cold. And this man had lost all his warmth for me when he spoke. “What are you doing here?”
It sounded like an accusation, and it made me angry. “No, the question is, what the hell are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer, so I moved forward, demanding answers. “Thinking of your pain sluts,” I snarled. “Is that it?”
He blinked, and for a second, I thought he’d come back to me. “No, I was thinking of you.”
Regardless of my anger and confusion, my stupid heart filled with hope. “What are you doing here, Lucian? I’ve been waiting for you at home.”
He turned into me and dragged me against him without warning, his fingers unfastening the knot around my waist before he slipped my coat off. I was in nothing more than a nightgown, and my nipples were already hard for him.
Maybe it was primal, or maybe it was jealousy, but I wanted him, and he knew it. He knew it when he dragged his fingers down over the material around my chest and tucked it under my breasts, exposing me to him.
Part of me wanted to tell him no. I wanted to demand an explanation, but in the end, I could see it wasn’t necessary. His eyes told me what he wanted. They told me what he needed.
“Were you going to fuck someone else?” I accused.
He didn’t look at me as he traced his fingers around the edge of my nipple. “Get on the table.”
“No,” I said, but it was weak.
“You’re supposed to do as you’re told,” he answered flatly.
“And what are you supposed to do? Come here whenever you want even though you’re married to me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Is this the first time, or has it happened before?” I pressed. “Is this where you’ve been when you told me you were working on Emmanuel’s case?”
His eyes snapped up to mine, and they were scarier than I’d ever seen them. “Get on the fucking table!”
I took a step back from him, but he caught me around the wrist before I could really move. I didn’t want to fight with him—that was the last thing I wanted—so I didn’t resist when he led me to the table and scooped me up with his arms, spreading me out like I was his next meal.
“Lucian,” I tried again to find some calm in my voice as he disappeared behind me where I couldn’t see. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t tell me. Instead, he came back and looked right at me, eyes empty as he latched a leather cuff around my wrists and secured them above my head. My chest rose and fell at an accelerated rate, and I tried to calm myself with reassurances.
I trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt me. This was Lucian. I had no reason to be afraid.
But maybe that meant I had more of a reason to be afraid. Because the truth was, I hadn’t really known this side of him. The part of him he kept hidden away. The sadist filled with quiet rage.
The last time he’d brought me here, he told me repeatedly that I was safe in his care, and I believed him. He told me that I could say stop at any point, and he would listen.
“Lucian,” I tried again, but he worked noiselessly, attempting to secure my feet next.
“Stop.” I tried to jerk my foot away, but it was an empty action that served no purpose. His grip was unyielding, and my words weren’t even getting through to him anymore. He strapped down both of my legs, and I already felt like I couldn’t breathe as I strained against the confinements.
“Please,” I begged.
Still nothing. I barely saw a glimpse of his face when he returned before he secured the blindfold around my eyes. This was the worst thing he could possibly do to me, and he knew it. He knew it intimately, and what I couldn’t figure out was why he wanted to punish me.
“Lucian—”
I felt the leather edge of a crop as it trailed over my skin before his breath filled the shell of my ear. “I should whip you black and blue.”
I began to thrash against the table, fear driving me to overreact. It was a primal instinct. An instinct that made me realize I could never escape my past. It would always be a part of me, and no matter how much I thought I trusted this man, he was still capable of hurting me.
The thick edge of the leather smacked my left breast, and I sucked in air. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark, and it was nothing like what he did to the other girl when I watched, but I was terrified it might turn into that. I was terrified he was going to hurt me, and it was something we could never recover from.
“Lucian.” Tears poured down my cheeks as I shook my head back and forth. “Stop.”
He smacked me again, this time on the other breast. “But I’m only just getting started. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to be what I need? That’s why you came here, pet. Admit it. After all this time, you’re still trying to prove yourself.”
He smacked my thigh, and it made me jump. His words hurt. They hurt because they were so true.
“You can’t fucking prove yourself,” he snarled viciously. “Don’t you get it? This is the way the world works, pet, and you need to understand that. No matter what you do, no matter how much you want something, the universe will find a way to fuck you over. That’s what you need to learn.”
Whack.
I cringed at the sound of the leather in the air. It didn’t hit my skin, and I wanted to believe he was just using it to scare me, but I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
He continued his rant, making short choppy statements that expressed his fresh rage. A rage that seemed to bloom out of nowhere, something I couldn’t identify, and something I had no idea how to fix. There was only one way to get through to him, and I would hate myself for it.
The leather dragged over my skin, looking for the next empty space that he could leave his mark. I felt his hand draw back, and I didn’t know if this would be the time he took it too far, but I was done with this game regardless.
“Dawson,” I wheezed. “Dawson.”
It was the closest thing to a safe word I could think of. And when I heard the clatter of the leather on the ground beside the table, I knew it had worked.