Page 46 of Wretched Soul
There’s my confirmation on Luke’s identity, and now I feel like a shit for hating on a dead guy.
“It sounds so simple when you say it quick, doesn’t it?” Lily continues. “Luke’s dead. He just went out one night and never came back. And yes, before you say it – again – he would have come back home without a scratch if his thoughtless, good-for-nothing sister had been looking out for him. I know it’s my fault, and not just that he died, but that you and Dad are in so much pain.”
Lily’s voice hitches, and I swallow back the lump in my throat.
“I don’t know how to make it right, Mom. Except to keep away. I know you must hate me for ignoring your calls, but you hate me anyway, so…”
I can almost see Lily shrug her shoulders.
“I’m sorry for being a coward, but I can live without knowing exactly how much you loathe me,” she says, but her voice falters. “I don’t know what else to say. Do you want to hear about my job? Are you interested? Well, it’s shit. The guy I trained up, and briefly allowed into my bed, has blamed all his fuck-ups on me because I dared to dump him. And not only has Connor stolen all my best clients, but the boss thinks the sun shines out of his ass.”
“That I can fix,” I promise Lily.
“And in other news, I’m seeing someone,” she continues. “Well, it’s more a matter of he sees me. It’s a game we like to play. He appears from nowhere, gives me the most explosive orgasms of my life, then disappears into the shadows. His name? Do you know, I haven’t got a clue.”
I swipe a finger on my laptop’s touchpad and hover over the disconnect button. I have a feeling this is a conversation I don’t want to hear. I should be grateful her mom isn’t on the other end of the line because I’d be getting destroyed by now.
“Yes, I know those are some pretty serious red flags. Did I mention he sometimes carries a gun? And he broke into my apartment.” Lily gasps as another thought strikes her. “Worst of all, he stole my chocolate.”
“Hey, I left three bars in your fridge!” I say in my defense.
“But he does look after me,” Lily adds. I swear I can hear her smiling. “I get lectures about my safety, and I had a security company contact me yesterday to arrange to have new locks installed on my front door. I like him, Mom. Even if I can’t see us having a future together.”
There’s a soft thud as she drops down onto what I guess must be her couch.
“We can’t play games forever, and I know he’s going to get bored,” she says. “Accountants aren’t exactly known for their exciting personalities. Maybe that’s why he won’t stay over. He doesn’t really want to get to know me. It’s an illusion neither of us want to break.”
My hand goes to my phone. I could message her again, but what would I say? It’s not you, it’s me? “You have no idea how much I want to spend every night with you, Lily,” I say out loud. “I love watching you, obsessing over you, worshiping you. I just don’t want you to see me.”
There’s a heavy silence that stretches all the way from Chicago to New York. And then Lily’s intercom buzzes. Lily has adelivery, and I can almost forget the fears she’s just voiced when I hear her accept a large package. She drags it into the living room.
“What the hell?” Lily asks.
Who needs a camera when she can give me a running commentary. I picture her face scrunched in puzzlement as she rips the box open. There’s rustling as the inner packaging is removed, and then Lily laughs.
“You have to be kidding me, Shade!”
Lily rifles through the hamper I’ve sent for her girls’ night in with Kaitlyn. It contains two fluffy robes, face masks, wine, and the popcorn I promised. I like that she immediately knew the gift was from me.
Her laugh tells me she’s found the note I sent. “Stay in. I’m watching you,” she reads. “Well, if you are spying on me, Shade, watch this.”
I can’t quite decide what hand gesture she’s just made, but just as I start to feel smug, a sob tears from Lily’s throat and my blood runs cold.
“Don’t start being nice to me,” she cries. “I don’t deserve nice.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever been in Alice’s New York apartment, and it’s as cold and impersonal as I imagined, although I suspect the room her housekeeper directed us to is rarely used. There are no personal touches, no family photos, no private items or files on the bookshelves. The Emersons are well aware of my reputation, and even in this time of supposed reconciliation, Alice isn’t affording me the opportunity to spy.
“I should plant a bug in here just to give them something to find when they do a sweep of the room later,” I tell Ash. I don’t keep my voice low. If Alice is listening in as part of a counter move, let her hear.
Ash rests his back against the leather armchair and crosses his legs. “Think before you speak today, Mace,” Ash says. “This meeting could benefit all parties.”
I put my feet up on the low coffee table and stretch my arms across the back of the couch. “Except the Russians.”
Before Ash can respond, there’s a click of a door opening behind me. I don’t turn around, or take my feet off the table as the shuffle of steps grows nearer.
Alice comes into view, impeccably dressed in a Chanel two-piece. Her deep brown hair is perfectly styled with no sign of grey to betray her age, but her heavy makeup can’t disguise how far her body has been ravaged by cancer. Time has caught up to the woman I thought was made of stone to match her heart. The façade of immortal power crumbles in front of my eyes as Alice takes measured steps while a nurse supports her arm. She’s human after all.
As she’s helped into an armchair, I glance at Ash. If he’s as shocked as I am, he won’t let it show either.
