Chapter 16
Bind
A stronghold, usually created by an advanced pawn, which is difficult to break
Lucian’s knee-length trench whipped across his legs as he stood within the shadows, just outside of the golden halo set by the streetlamp. It was a good neighborhood with a Rittenhouse Square feel. There was hardly ever crime in this section of Folsom, and most residents were affluent to say the least. She would be safe here.
White light showed from behind her sheer drapes. He waited for even a silhouette to pass, something to let him know she was all right. There was nothing.
Of all the difficult decisions he ever had to make, this seemed to trump all. Would he lose her? She was confused, angry, but there was a reason. He just couldn’t tell her. Once she found out the truth, she’d see his reasoning.
He was a coward. How did one explain to the one they loved they’d been bartered like a valuable trading card, loaned out like a car? He had never been so disappointed in his choices, but every time he recalled that freezing afternoon he’d gone searching for her, he could think of no other option around the fucked-up position they were in now.
During his most intense moments of arbitrage, he never experienced fear like what was living inside of him now. The clock had started. Parker would go to her—once he found her—and wasn’t it sweet that Lucian had left her so vulnerable and in need of a friend? His stomach soured, bile swelling to a point of wooziness at the mental image of Parker laying his hands on her, hugging her, holding her, listening to her while she cried about what a prick Lucian was.
The chances of Parker getting his way left Lucian light-headed with worry. He wouldn’t break his word, couldn’t. It was written into his bones to always stand true to his vow. But nothing had ever tempted him more. All he had to do was go back on his word and he could fix this. But if he wasn’t a man of his word, he was only another step closer to being his father.
Parker had played his part well. The way Evelyn described him, she saw him as an innocent man, carefree and understanding, nothing like himself. Lucian knew better. Parker was not one of life’s players simply moving the game along. He was nobody’s pawn.
He had come from a long line of impressive men. Crispin Hughes was a name Lucian had grown up hearing from the time he was a boy. It was said by many that Folsom was run by two men under the presumption they were Christ: the two Christs of Folsom, the Gods of the city, Christos Patras and Crispin Hughes. The irony that he now was coming head to head with the son of his father’s nemesis only left more of a bitter taste in his mouth. He was too afraid to actually appreciate the irony of it all.
Just as Lucian had been groomed to someday take over Patras Industries, so had Parker been groomed to take after his own father. The only difference was Patras was still a name people respected, trusted.
The Hughes scandal was huge. Crispin Hughes tried to swindle conglomerates like Marquee, Velázquez, and Typhoon Industries. The minute he was caught in foul play with one, he was caught by all. Everyone stopped to analyze their doings with Crispin Hughes, and once one lawsuit came, the rest followed.
Lucian was a young man when the news broke of Hughes. Police had swarmed their family’s mansion and taken him out in cuffs and a smoking jacket. Every channel reported on how the man never dressed, because he was certain they had no case. Within a day the courts commandeered his possessions and all of his computers were confiscated. Once the investigation started, Crispin Hughes lost a bit of his cocky attitude. The trial went on for years, and then one day, the news broke that Parker’s father shot himself.
Loretta Hughes was a sweet woman, far too gentle for the likes of her husband. The bulk of the Hughes family had left Folsom during the trial, leaving only Crispin’s wife and young son to handle the press. Parker was far younger than Lucian, but he remembered seeing his picture on the front of the Tribune and thinking, he’s just like me. That could have been me.
Lucian had been going through his own grief at that point, still mourning the loss of his mother and trying to overthrow his father in a bout of misplaced anger and revenge. Men like his father and Crispin Hughes loved the industry. They were the visionaries of their time, gifted beyond measure when it came to business and cursed to the depths of their souls when it came to love. If something couldn’t be measured in material worth it didn’t exist in their eyes.
After years of watching the mockery of his parents’ marriage, Lucian had no intention to follow in his father’s footsteps in that realm. He would date, perhaps cohabitate, but for the most part he’d always intended on remaining untethered.
Evelyn changed all that. He didn’t want anyone else and was certain he never would. He sensed her antipathy to the finality of marriage. He knew she wasn’t ready. He likely would have never proposed so soon had it not been for Parker’s interference.
The man had placed him in a stranglehold, forced his hand in matters where she was concerned, and while Lucian assumed proposing marriage was a precise way to avoid separation, he had been wrong, an outcome he now believed Parker had predicted.
It was beyond frustrating to think Parker knew Evelyn. He knew Scout, some confused kid, a scrapper looking for something more.
Lucian knew Evelyn, the eloquently spoken beauty whom any man would be proud to stand by. True, Parker had him at a disadvantage and had somehow managed to manipulate him and take the upper hand, but Lucian had faith in Evelyn. She was better than him and she was better than Parker. She would be the only one capable of ending this, and he had to believe she would make the right choice. She wasn’t Scout anymore, and surely she realized that.
The light behind the curtain switched out and with it, Lucian extinguished his hope that this was just a nightmare. Twenty-nine days to go.
***
Lucian looked over the portfolio Jeff Burnet placed in front of him. He had been staring at it for over five minutes now, seeing the man’s expertise in advertising displayed beautifully in the contrasting colors highlighting the plans and drawing buyers’ eyes to the pros of the project, yet all he wanted to do was tear it to pieces and demand he come up with something better.
It had been four excruciating days, and things had not improved. He’d gotten worse, far worse. He hated being in the penthouse by himself. His first hour home he’d thrown her craft desk and broken it. He asked Dugan to order a new one. Evelyn’s presence was everywhere, on their sheets, in his closet, under his sink. There was no place she hadn’t left her mark.
He decided only to use the penthouse for sleep, coming to the office before the doors opened to the public and working long past closing. He’d taken to having his meals delivered to his desk, dining out by himself for late suppers, and last night he had lost his nerve to go home to his empty condo altogether.
He spent the night at his place of work, sleeping on the stiff couch in his office. He showered and shaved that morning in his executive bathroom and found several suits hanging in his closet, a cautionary expense from his days as a bachelor. Freshly laundered dress shirts hung like empty skins all in a row. The lower drawer of his desk was filled with brand new T-shirts, underwear and socks still in their packaging and tissue. How much longer could he go on like this?
Jeff cleared his throat. “Would you like me to come back, Lucian?”
Lucian turned the page, not really paying much attention to what he was seeing. Jeff had worked for him for almost a decade. He trusted his ideas, which had been validated by their profits over the past several years. “No.”
He turned the page again. Everything was perfect. Lucian could find no room for improvement, which for some reason pissed him off. He shut the portfolio with a slap and met Jeff’s eyes. “Do you feel this is the best you can give me?”
The man’s expression hitched. He seemed to consider his answer before giving it. “I put three months into that, Lucian. It’s everything you asked for.”
“That doesn’t answer the question. Is this the best you’re capable of?”
Jeff frowned. “Do I feel it’s the best I’ve ever done? No, but I’ve done over one hundred pitches for you. Every one can’t be the best or my favorite—”
“Why?” he snapped. “Why shouldn’t everything you put on my desk be the best, Jeff? Do I come in here, day after day, and give only a percentage of what I’m capable of? No. I work my balls off so that things can get done around here and you and all the other people who depend on me can get paid.” His voice had risen by the end of his reply.
“Look, Lucian, if you want me to give it another look—”
“I want the best you’re capable of! Why should I have to wait longer because you slacked off? I gave you three fucking months to do your job. You should have done it right the first time!”
Jeff stiffened. “That’s damn good work there. Go ahead and look around if you think you can find better.”
“Perhaps I will,” Lucian threatened back. “Maybe it’s time to rearrange some things around here. People are getting a little too cozy, and I won’t have Patras taking the brunt of everyone’s indolence. I expect perfection and nothing less.”
“Are . . . are you implying you want a new ad exec? You wanna look around, fine, but my contract isn’t up for another six months.”
Lucian didn’t want a new advertising executive. He liked Jeff, liked his work, liked his wife, Debbie. He was invited to his children’s birthdays.
“Contracts . . .” he mumbled, leaning back in his chair.
Jeff waited a few minutes. “Lucian, are you all right? You don’t look too good. Your color’s a bit off and you look tired. Maybe you should call it a day, go home and get some rest.”
“I don’t need rest, and the last thing I need is to go home.”
Several moments passed in awkward silence. The mood of the room seemed to settle and slowly right itself. “Look, if you want me to redo the ad I will. I can have something back to you by the end of the week. I have some other dormant ideas I was playing with that I could expand on and see how you like them—”
Lucian pushed the portfolio forward. “No, this is fine. It’s good. Take it down to Silberstein and have him order the space. I want it up by April first.”
Jeff’s mouth opened and shut. He took the portfolio and stood. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He hesitated a moment before leaving. “Look, Lucian, this weekend we’re having a little get together. Deb and the kids would love to see you. Why don’t you try to make it?”
Lucian forced the muscles of his face into closest impression of a smile he could manage. “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Jeff.”
A while later, after he finished up with Jeff, his intercom buzzed. “What?”
“Mr. Patras, Mr. Callahan’s here to see you.”
He sighed. “Send him in.”
Lucian eased back in his chair. A moment later the door opened and Shamus stepped in, his perpetually flushed cheeks lifted. “Luche, how’s it hanging?” As he took a seat at the club chair in the corner, he cocked his head, a crown of golden curls falling to the side. “Did you sleep here?”
Lucian stood to join him. “Yeah. I’ve been avoiding the condo. Evelyn and I are on a break.”
Jamie’s eyebrows lifted. “Since when?”
“Four days ago.”
“That explains the rumors.”
Lucian frowned. “What rumors?”
“That you’ve lost it.”
He wasn’t surprised. He’d been screaming at employees all week, setting unobtainable standards, making good workers feel incapable and less than they were. Somehow he thought that would make his own life seem less pathetic. It didn’t.
“I’ve been on a bit of a rampage.”
“Ya think? Georgette looks one loud noise away from bursting into tears, and Seth is running around with sweat stains under the arms. Lucian, if you’re that miserable, go get her back and apologize for whatever stupid thing you’ve done.”
“It isn’t that simple.” He settled into to couch and crossed his legs at the ankle. God he was tired.
“Is it really that complicated?”
“Yes.”
Jamie waited for an explanation. He was Lucian’s best friend. He might as well tell him before he heard it from Slade. “I made a deal. When Evelyn left last fall and I couldn’t find her, I made a deal so that I could save her.”
“What kind of deal?”
“The stupid kind. I’d spent days scouring every alley, dilapidated building, and shelter in Folsom. She was nowhere to be found. The temperature dropped to below freezing and I panicked. She has a friend, from the shelter, a guy.”
“An ex-lover?”
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “No. She’s never been with anyone but me. He’s just a friend, but he’d like to be more.”
“He’s homeless?”
“Was. I ran into him on the street and asked him if he knew where she was. He had a better guess than anyone. He knew, but refused to tell me.”
“Was she safe?”
“No. The little prick knew that too. He had no way of helping her and we were due another blizzard. He made me an offer. If I agreed, he’d tell me where she was.”
Jamie’s head slowly drew back. Hesitantly, he asked, “What was the offer, Luche?”
He sighed and shook his head. “I had to give him a job.”
“That’s not bad.”
“Wait. I had to give him a job so he could make money and get himself off the streets. I gave him a job as a bellboy at Patras, but told him the minute he fucked up it was done. That was only one part of the deal.”
“What’s the other part?”
“When he was ready, once he felt he’d gotten back on his feet, I had to break up with Evelyn for a month. One month, no contact, during which time he could take a shot at her.”
Jamie’s brow crinkled as his upper lip seemed to snag on an invisible hook. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No. Yes. I was desperate. It was fucking freezing. It had been over a week and I’d used every resource I had to find her only to come up short. What choice did I have?”
“There had to be a better one than that.”
“Tell me,” he said in exasperation. “You tell me what the better choice was. He had me by the balls, Shamus. What was I supposed to do, let my dick and my pride get in the way of saving her life? I love her and there was no way she was coming out of that decline without my help. Her mom’s sick. She was dying and Evelyn would have frozen to death right beside her rather than leave her.”
“What’s wrong with her mom?”
“A ton of shit; mainly, she’s an addict. I found her lying on nothing but cardboard, coughing up blood, in an old abandoned mill by the tracks. I thought she was already dead when I got there. Evelyn wouldn’t leave her, so I carried her out of there, had Sheffield take a look at her, and now she’s checked into rehab. She hates me. She would’ve died had I not carried her out of there, but she’s too fucked-up to care. The woman is a selfish cunt and uses Evelyn, but she’s all Evelyn’s ever had and she won’t abandon her.”
“So now what? Evelyn found out about all this and dumped you?” Jamie asked.
“No, not completely. There were conditions to the agreement. A bellboy makes practically nothing. Sure, Patras employees are paid about twenty percent above the norm, but do you know how long it would have taken to get an apartment in even the shittiest part of Folsom on that salary? I didn’t think there was much of a rush. To protect myself further, I stipulated that the minute Evelyn agreed to marry me, all bets were off.”
“Marry you? Lucian, since when are you the marrying type?”
“Since Evelyn. I love her. Why shouldn’t I marry her?”
“Because you’ve never been with anyone longer than a year.”
“I was with Monique for three years.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you, her and Slade playing your twisted game of house doesn’t count. Marriage is between two people. There’s no gray area to escape to when things get tough. You know this. I remember when we were kids, every time your mother would cry because your dad ran off somewhere with Tibet, you’d swear you’d never get married.”
This was all true, but he didn’t feel that way anymore. Evelyn changed all that. “Well . . . it’s a moot point now. She doesn’t want to marry me.”
His friend’s eyes bulged. “You asked her?”
“Last week. She shot me down—about twenty times.”
“Why? Doesn’t she know you’re Folsom’s most eligible bachelor?”
“She doesn’t give a shit about any of that. She said she wasn’t ready, doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready. The funny thing is, the more she said no, the more I realized how badly I wanted her to say yes.”
“That’s because people don’t tell you no enough. You just want it because you can’t have it and you don’t like being told something’s out of your reach.”
“No, I want her because I love her, because without her I’m incomplete. She makes me a better person. She grounds me. Being with her is nothing like being with Monique or anyone else for that matter. She’s . . . perfect.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here? Fuck that little bellboy punk—”
“I can’t. She almost got herself killed the other day looking for him. He’d been MIA, and she was convinced he was in trouble. She had no idea he was now working and doing better than he had been in years.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Scout’s too good for a bellboy.”
“He quit working for me. Found a much better job, but she didn’t know any of this. She was a mess. No matter how much I despise the little shit, he’s her friend. She’s stubborn, you know? She’d keep sneaking off to find him. I knew where he was and I couldn’t take fearing she’d keep going back to the tracks looking for him where he no longer was, so I arranged a dinner.”
“Cute. You set them up on a nice little date, did ya?”
“Fuck you. I was there. She was happy. In a way it was worth it.”
“Give me a break, Lucian. You’re smarter than that.”
“You would think, but lately I’ve proven to be incredibly dumb. When I contacted him he told me he was going to be collecting, soon. I saw it in his eyes. He wanted his shot and I couldn’t let that happen—”
“Wait, wait, wait . . . You gave him a job, when? November? How the hell does someone go from absolutely nothing to bolstering their confidence into taking on the likes of Lucian Patras?”
“Slade.”
Jamie stilled. “Slade? How’s he have anything to do with this?”
“He fucked me. Somehow he ran across the kid and found out about our arrangement. I don’t know what Slade’s issue is with Evelyn. I don’t really care anymore. I’d rather take a pike up the ass than ever see him again. He found out and gave the kid a job.”
Jamie scowled. “What kind of job?”
“A good one, making about ten times what he was making at Patras.”
Jamie shook his head. “Why? Why would he—”
“The kid’s Crispin Hughes’s son.”
His friend let out a long whistle and sat back in his seat. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Lucian tipped his head back until his neck was resting on the back of the couch. His hand scrubbed his brow. “So I proposed, she said no, I freaked, thereby freaking her out in the process. Giving Hughes any more time would have only put the odds more in his favor. I didn’t want him to be any more comfortable. The kid’s a prodigy. I’ve looked into it. It’s in him, same as it was in his father, same as my father instilled it in me. So I told Evelyn we needed to take a break.”
“I imagine that didn’t go over too well.”
He laughed without humor. “No. She hates me. I’ve fucked things up so bad I don’t think any more damage can be done. She wanted to know why. What the hell was I supposed to tell her? That I’d loaned her out to her friend?”
“Fuck that, Luche. Screw this kid. I don’t care who his dad was—”
“I gave him my word.”
Jamie groaned. “You and your fucking word. He’s a Hughes! Do you think he’d keep his word?”
“He isn’t like his father. Smart like him, yes, but I have a feeling he’s not dishonest.”
“Aw, that’s nice. I’m sure Evelyn will appreciate his honesty when he tells her he wants to sleep with her.”
“What the fuck could I do?” he yelled.
“You should have told her the truth!”
His insides tightened. “I can’t. I couldn’t. It’s no use now, because part of the deal is that I don’t contact her, but before . . . I refuse to be the one to tell her what’s really going on.”
“Why? If honesty is such an important trait to her, don’t you think whoever explains things will ultimately be on her good side?”
He met his friend’s gaze. “Imagine how it will go when she finds out. First she’ll be irate. If I told her, she wouldn’t listen beyond the first confession. She’d be out the door and I’d be right where I am now. I know what he has planned. He’s her friend, sweet Parker who’d never harm a fly and thinks of everyone before himself.” He scowled. “She has him pegged as some sensitive, selfless, poetic sort of guy. I assure you he’s anything but. He’s as shrewd and selfish as his father. Only my intuition that he hated Crispin leads me to believe he’d loathe coming off as anything less than noble to Evelyn. I think it would kill him to be seen as anything remotely similar to the man who raised him, and right now I wouldn’t mind him dead.
“All I was worried about that day was finding Evelyn and making sure she was safe—by any means. Parker had conditions. He could’ve helped her. He knew that’s what I was there to do, but he found a way to press his advantage. I was at the mercy of anyone who knew where she might be, and he used my disadvantage for his own purposes. Evelyn’s the furthest thing from a pushover. Her life’s been too hard for her to be naive. Once she has all the facts, and believe me, she will, she’ll realize what he did.”
Jamie was quiet for several minutes. His hands were folded as his elbows rested on his knees. This was his pose for deep contemplation. Finally, he said, “So, she finds out he put the deal on the table. That’s one black mark. She then finds out that, had you not agreed to his conditions, she would’ve frozen and her mother would’ve likely died.”
“Correct.”
“Okay, but Luche, that doesn’t guarantee she’ll come back to you. It doesn’t guarantee that before she finds all that out he may have already gotten what he’s after.”
His throat went dry and he swallowed. “I know,” he rasped, baring every bit of worry in his expression for his friend to see.
Jamie sat back with a jerk. “Fuck, this is a goddamn mess.”
“You’re telling me?”
“No. I can see you don’t need anyone telling you what a cluster fuck this all is.” He scrubbed his face with his palms then stilled. “What did you do to Slade?”
“I’m buying him out. Fuck if I’ll do business with that prick ever again. I reminded him the only reason I’m in this predicament is because I’m a man of my word. I then gave him my word that if this ends badly for me, I would make it my life’s ambition to destroy everything he loves.”
Jamie shook his head. “He’s an idiot. Why the fuck would he get involved?”
“Because he wants to fuck me,” Lucian said snidely, still not understanding Slade’s reasoning. He wasn’t even sure he had a good reason. All he knew was that Slade used to be a good guy until he turned so cynical and bitter.
Jamie threw up his hands in exasperation. “We’re supposed to be friends. Do you think this is because of Monique? Good God, he needs to let it go!”
“I know.”
“You had no more to do with her death than he did. It was a fucking accident. Jesus. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“Don’t bother. The selfish prick’s gonna do what he wants. Besides, it’s too late to change things. I’ve got twenty-six days to sit here with my thumb up my ass and hope I don’t kill anyone in the process. He better pray that doesn’t happen, because the minute murder is on my radar, I’m coming for him.”
“Why don’t you get out of town for a while?”
“And do what, write poetry about the one who got away? No. I need to work.”
“Well, your staff’s terrified of you at the moment. If you’re going to work, work. Don’t make them pay for your mistakes.”
Lucian got quiet. “I really fucked up,” he confessed in a whisper. “What if I can’t get her back, Shamus? What if this kid really is better for her and she sees that?”
“Knock it off. You’re Lucian Bloody Patras. You’ve gotten everything you’ve ever set your sights on. What makes her different?”
He thought for a moment, then met his friend’s gaze. “She may be poor, but she’s the only person I’ve ever met with as much determination as me. She’s my match, and for the first time in my life, I finally understand what others fear when they face me in a board meeting. If she’s determined never to be with me again, take my word, she won’t.”
“I find it hard to believe there’s anyone in this world with as much determination and tenacity as you, Luche. I like Scout. You’re right, she’s a feisty thing, but she loves you. That fact is clear to anyone who sees you together. You’re tired. Get some rest. Once you have a clear head you’ll see things better. I don’t give a shit who this kid’s daddy was. He’s not you. Christos was always a little classier, with a little more stealth, and a little more honesty than Crispin Hughes. That sort of thing sticks with its lineage. Evelyn may be your match, but Hughes isn’t. She’s not the one you have to take out. He is. The thirty days will be over before you know it and you’ll have this fixed in no time.”
“God, I hope you’re right.”
“I am.”