18
How many times could one idiot lose the woman he loved? Enya had given him one chance after another to at least try and make things right. As if that was not enough, she had given those chances to him as Thomas and as L.
L. was tired of counting how many times he had screwed up his sole chance for happiness. Yes, it was not going to be easy but that was not her fault. He was the one with messy past, double-identity that even he was starting to get confused about and the insatiable hunger for destroying what other people held dear. He was a mess who had not appreciated the love of the one woman that mattered to him.
One night after the other L. had been spending in the streets. Twelve nights and nine pieces of rage-filled street art were made from the moment Enya turned away from him and left him alone on the rooftop. He tried to spill out everything that made him angry, tried to turn his rage into colors and shapes. None of that was enough to calm him.
More than ever in his life, L. was mad at himself and who he had become during these years. When she had come to him, to L., searching for comfort and understanding, he thought she had chosen him. She had seen through his shield and reached for his true self. He was flattered that she had chosen the artist, the rebel, the lone wolf that was his true self. Yet, she had screamed his given name which caught him off guard in the moment of bliss. At that moment, she had still desired the other him, the arrogant jerk Silversson who had stripped her of what was the dearest to her.
He was not mad at her. However hard he tried to separate his one persona from the other, he was getting more and more tangled in the mess of his thoughts and emotions. He was one body, one soul and nothing was going to be right until he found that damned peace inside himself.
For years that struggle had been internal. Olivia had tried to help him, but could never reconcile the two identities. When it had not worked, she had turned to professional help. That had made him even angrier. Separating his one part from the other had been the one solution that had worked until now. Until the day when the woman who stole his heart fell for both men what lived inside him.
Now, Thomas told himself. Go and sort that mess out.
Tonight, L. saw what needed to be done clearly. He knew he could paint every single wall in this city but the city was not the target of his rage. He was. He directed his steps to the one location which could satisfy the anger blooming in his dark heart. He had created his own monster that was Thomas L. Silversson. He was the only person who could destroy him.
While on his way, he made necessary arrangements. It was not the easiest thing to attack the empire he had raised himself. First, L. called the head of security. He told him he needed all the lights of the headquarter to be turned off and everyone evacuated from the building, every single security guard who was there had to be moved to the other offices in the city.
That was a bizarre request, he knew it. Lucky for himself, Thomas L. Silversson’s voice could intimidate anyone, and even the former marine veteran who was now the head of his security did not question his command.
Second, L. stopped at the first hardware store he could find and bought out their inventory of spray paint. The image that he had in his mind was huge. He wanted to cover the windows of the sixty-ninth floor entirely. The very same floor where Enya and Thomas had met, face to face, as business rivals. If he had not been so full of himself and told her who he was in the elevator, things could’ve been different now.
Not that different, he discarded his own vain hope.
By the time he came to the building, the Silversson Industries tower was completely sunk in the darkness. Not a single bulb was lit, not a breathing soul inside its walls. L. punched in his executive control code at the door, allowing him entry and shutting down the alarms and security cameras.
L. entered the building and took the stairs to the sixty-ninth floor. He was going to use the large balcony to climb out onto the narrow platform. Several days ago they had been cleaning the mirror-like walls of that floor. His timing was perfect. The platform was still hanging there and was safely attached to the walls.
His message to himself was also clear. The words had been in his head for days now. He simply could not figure out the place where he needed to paint them. Now, every detail fell into the right place. When lit again, the building was going to feature the words ‘I SURVIVE YOU’ in his signature dragon-style letters.
He was going to survive himself, the wreck of a person he had made himself into. This graffiti was only the first step, but an important one. He had enough paint and time to finish the main painting today. He could add the details to the design later if everything went smoothly.
L. checked the time on this watch. He had five hours till the sunrise. There was no more time to waste. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out to the balcony and climbed onto the platform. One look downstairs at the sleeping city beneath his feet, and he knew how right this decision was. The feeling of endless flight and freedom filled him. For the first time in so many weeks, L. breathed and the fresh night air filled his lungs with the arousing smell of freedom.
It was three hours later and almost two-third of work completed when L. heard the police sirens. He was never afraid of getting caught, as he never used much light which could give him away. Now, on the platform on the sixty-ninth floor in the middle of the night, there was almost no chance that anyone could’ve noticed him and called the police. He decided to wait for one minute until they passed.
However the police sirens only grew louder until the cars stopped right in front of the building. This was not a false alarm, they were coming after him. L. shook his head. He had been a street artist for two decades of his life and had never been arrested, had never even been close to caught. But now, as he was painting the building he owned the police were on his doorstep.
Still, there was no way to prove it. He was not going to admit who he was. He was careful enough not to carry any documents with him. That could destroy Silversson Industries and get him into serious trouble. As much as he intended was to bring his own empire down, a scandalous revelation that the billionaire owning half of the city also owned half of the street art in it was not his plan. This was a secret that was never going to reach the public. He had made sure nobody but his grandmother and his most trusted lawyer knew about it.
L. did not resist when the police stormed into the offices on the 69th floor. He silently let the officers cuff his wrists and lead him to the car. Sebastian, the only person among his lawyers’ team who knew about his secret lifestyle was currently overseas supervising some deal of Silversson Industries. That left only Olivia to come and bail him out when he was allowed to make a call.
L. refused to tell them his name or to give any information until then. He knew he was making it worse for himself refusing to tell his name, but that was his only chance of getting out of this situation and clearing out the mess without much noise and public attention.
Not finding any personal belongings on him, the police threw the street artist into a cell while they figured out what to do with him. The four hours that L. spent detained until he was allowed to make a call, turned out to be quite productive for his self-destructive plans. He had enough time to reflect on the whole situation and figure out his next steps. Silversson Industries was going down but, as always, he needed to do it with style. L. sat silently in his cell, devising his plan with a slight smirk upon his lips.
The middle-aged police officer gave him a suspicious look. L could guess it was not so often he saw people silently smirking while arrested for destroying the property belonging to one of the most influential businessmen in the city.
“Are you on drugs, son?” the officer asked. They had tested him earlier, so the question carried more of a rhetorical nature.
“Never been more sober, sir,” L. answered happily.
Finally, the police allowed L. to make his call. He called Olivia and made sure she spoke very carefully, to avoid giving away unnecessary information. Without names or context he asked her to come and see what she could do with this situation.
His grandmother arrived an hour later. He knew she was mad at him the moment he met her eyes. She did not speak until she was sure they were alone in the room.
“Thomas Luis Silversson,” his grandmother crossed her arms over her chest. “You have outdone yourself this time.”
“I’m glad I can still surprise you, Grams. Just call me L. while here. Just in case.”
“I’ve tried to reach Sebastian, but his phone was off. I left several messages to him. How are you going to get out this without exposure?”
That was Sebastian’s problem. That was why he paid him a six-digit salary every month. So that Thomas didn’t have to give a shit how the guy solved the most unsolvable problems for him.
“Can you get me out of here before he’s back?” he asked Olivia.
“Darling, you refuse to tell them your name and show any identification, how do you expect an elderly woman who also refuses to tell her last name to get you out of here?”
L. sighed, she was right. He was going to need Sebastian before he would be set free.
“On the positive side, though, there is still no official complaint from Silversson Industries,” she laughed.
L. was sure the complaint was going to come sooner or later. His PA and the head of security had the full authority to do it in his absence. Such problems were too small for Thomas Silversson to care about.
“And, even if I did want to bail you out and even if I did have the five digit amount that is required for a vandalistic attack on a private property...” Olivia started.
“If you did want? Grams, I know you’re pissed off and all, but leaving your favorite grandson in jail is not very kind of you,” L. protested.
Olivia narrowed her eyes on him.
“That is the least you can get for everything you’ve done to yourself recently, son.”
And here they got to his grandma’s favorite theme to grill him. She had refused to give him any rest on the matter from that first day she accidentally saw him and Enya together. The woman had some supernatural senses to know what exactly was going on in his heart. Although L. had always refused to discuss the matter any further, his grandma did not take that as an answer.
“Grams, how about you got me out from here - use your charm, offer to double that five-digit amount they ask, whatever, I don’t care.” The money, of course, was the least of his concerns.. “Then I promise I’ll come to your place and you can lecture me day and night until you’ve had enough and you’d want to kick me out.”
Olivia looked at him with the eyes of a woman who was buying no shit. She was the one that brought him up; she knew every trick he could use to convince people to do what he needed. None of those worked on Olivia. She stood untouched.
“Why, my darling,” she spoke with the innocent surprise of an elderly lady. “Even if I did want to do that, how on earth could I get that sum? And, how can I go against the law? That is what got you here in the first place.”
L. rolled his eyes and collapsed on his narrow bunk bed. He knew the woman had at least two different cards with unlimited credit lines linked to his own accounts. She was simply playing difficult. No law could be more severe than a pissed off grandmother. If those policemen knew it, they would’ve released him in no time and sent him to serve some home arrest time at his grandma’s.
“Darling, you need to think over everything that has been wrong in your life recently,” Olivia insisted. “When you are ready and when Sebastian is back, I am sure we will find some way to get you out of here.”
Fate was finally punishing L. for everything and everyone he had ever wronged in his life. His own adorable grandmother was going to leave him to rot in this police department for another night until Sebastian was back.
“And while you are here,” Grandma leaned closer and fished his phone out of her purse, “I picked up a phone on my way here. I spoke to the guards, generously, and they allowed me to bring it to you.”
L. sighed, now he knew where his “bail” money was going.
“I am sure you know who to call,” she winked. “I don’t believe you have anything better to do for the next hour, so please, darling, stop being a fool and do something good for yourself for a change. Meanwhile, I will chat with the policemen.”
After wasting five minutes of his precious one hour, L. knew he could not hide from himself and his desires any longer. He unlocked the phone and dialed the number he knew he had to.
Enya answered on the second ring.
“Thomas,” she spoke in such a low voice that he thought she was trying to avoid doing so all together.
“Hey,” he answered her with a quiver in his voice.
“Hi,” the surprise was still in her voice, but now she actually seemed to believe it was him and that he was his very real self. He was glad she called him Thomas and not L. “How have you been?”
Thomas laughed and it was the full-hearted happy laughter that he had not felt in such a long time.
“Now, as you asked, I started feeling much better,” he was beaming like a complete idiot and was so confused about what he wanted to say.
Despite the lack of words, there was no coldness and anger between them. It felt so natural, so normal to talk to her or even to stay silent together with her.
“Is everything okay?” She asked.
His heart was filled with so many emotions. He would never deserve this woman. Still, she did care and wanted to know how he was doing. He’d never understand how mad she could be to like him. But, hell, that made him the happiest man in the world.
“Well, if you must know I am in jail,” he started and she let out a gasp. “Don’t worry, darling, not a big deal. I was working on some new art on Silversson Industries headquarters. The jerk has some security team working for him, I bet.”
Although he had not been able to confirm his guess, he was quite sure it had been the head of his own security team that had come back to check on the building after he told him to turn off the lights and send the security home.
“And my grandmother is refusing to bail me out,” he continued finally realizing how amusing and perfect all of this was. If he was not mad enough to attack his own corporation and his grandma was not so desperately in need for great grandchildren, this call would’ve never been possible. “Well, not until I make things right with you, anyway.”
“You’ve pissed her off, I don’t envy you,” Enya chuckled.
“You should. Despite my current accommodations, I believe I’m the happiest person alive right now. Just because I’m talking to the woman I’m in love with.”
He blurted it out before he realized what he had said. Was it late to take those words back?
“Oh,” Enya was silent for one moment. “Do you think it would help if that woman came to the police department and asked Olivia to get you out for a date with me?”
“Maybe, but you’ll have to convince both Olivia and the police to let me free. Though if you manage Grams I imagine she can convince the police.”
“I think I can be persuaded to do that,” Enya said, her voice growing chipper as the pair soaked each-other in.
“Great. Only one problem, she’s not coming back for another hour. Why don’t you use this chance while I’m behind the bars and ask me as many questions as you want?”
“Any question?”
“Anything you want to know about me, darling. Just ask.”
Thomas L. Silversson let out a deep sigh. He had just agreed to release his long held defenses and let the woman he loved into his world. Would that scare her away? He’d never know until he tried. At the very least he knew he needed to heal the scar between them and turn it into another story in the artwork that would become their relationship.