She carefully typed in 1-9-0-0, Patras’s address.
“Would you like any cash back today?”
“Um, could I have three hundred dollars, please?”
“Sure. We normally have to wait for a check to clear, but since Mr. Patras is one of our trustees and offered to come down here himself in order to clear the funds, I don’t see a problem.”
Her teeth ground together. Was he here? Casually looking around, she caught Dugan’s gaze. He nodded once, letting her know that, yes, Lucian was somewhere nearby. Wonderful.
“How would you like that?”
Her gaze jerked back to the banker and she forced her expression to soften. “Excuse me?”
“Would hundreds be okay, or did you want smaller bills?”
“Could you give me some smaller bills too? I’d prefer to not have anything larger than a fifty.”
Mr. McGregor nodded. “Let me go put this through and I’ll be right back with your money.”
When he left she shot Dugan a cold look that was more intended for Lucian, but he wasn’t making his presence known at the moment. Dugan simply arched a bushy brow. The rest of his granite expression remained unmoved.
Mr. McGregor returned. Some paperwork spewed from the printer and again he asked her to sign after going over some policies with her.
“These are your temporary checks. Will ten be enough? You should receive your personal checks in seven to ten business days.”
Scout nodded. She needed to get a place and get her address changed quickly, before the checks went in the mail. Otherwise she’d have no choice but to see Lucian again sooner than she wanted to.
When they finished, she tucked her bank card and checks and the rest of the paperwork safely into her bag and shook Mr. McGregor’s proffered hand.
“The remainder of your funds should be available in two business days, Ms. Keats. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
When she reached the door, Dugan was already holding it for her. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Keats.”
“Bite me,” she grumbled as she exited the bank and came face-to-face with Lucian’s sleek black limo. Her shoulders drooped. “Is this really necessary?”
Dugan again arched a brow, but said nothing.
“Is he in there?” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Huffing, she pivoted without a word, marching away from the limo with no idea where she was heading. As horns began to honk, she turned and found the limousine crawling at a snail’s pace beside her, holding up a good deal of city traffic.
“Get in the car, Evelyn,” Lucian’s voice calmly called from the shadows of the back window.
“Go away, Lucian.” Her legs trudged on. When she spotted a one-way street they wouldn’t be able to enter, she picked up her pace. The limo continued beside her as she steadily speed walked in that direction.
Voices of aggravated drivers shouted at the limo from the line of traffic. Finally reaching her planned detour, she turned and the limo shot off in the distance. Her walk transitioned into a jog. She needed to get out of there.
Just as she reached the intersection of the next block, the limo slid in front of her, blocking all traffic and causing a driver across the way to slam on his brakes. Horns blared and Lucian’s window rolled down.
“Evelyn, you’re causing a scene. Get in.”
“You are causing a scene. Go away.” She pivoted, walking east when the sound of a car door opening had her doubling her pace and risking a glance over her shoulder.
Sure enough, Lucian was out and coming after her. Should she run? Surely he wouldn’t force her into the car.
“Where’s your jacket? It’s still chilly out.”
She glanced to her left. Lucian strode beside her with an air of casualness she didn’t understand. His hands were wedged in his pockets and his expression light. Dugan putted along beside them, continuing to block traffic.
“It’s May.”
“Still, the low is fifty-eight. You should have a jacket.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t own a jacket.” This was ridiculous. “Are you just going to have Dugan follow me? He’s causing a traffic jam.”
He shrugged. “I offered you a ride. If you’d let us drive you where you’re going he’d be able to obey the speed limit.”
Silently she counted to ten before facing him. He stopped. “Lucian, I know what you’re doing.”
“I wasn’t trying to be secretive.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“What do you suggest I do then?”
“Leave. Me. Alone.”
He smiled sadly, eyes downcast in an expression that was downright inappropriate for a man of his stature. Guilt rode her hard, but pride got her second thoughts under control. He deserved this.
His voice rasped in a hoarse confession. “You see, I can’t do that Evelyn. I love you, and without you I’m miserable. Even standing in your shadow is better than not knowing where you are.”
Her fingers rubbed her forehead. “Damn it, Lucian . . .”
“Come home with me, baby. Let me feed you and let’s talk.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why? You know I’ll eventually wear you down.”
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you that I don’t want to be worn down? I just want to live my life without being harassed or stalked.”
His eyes grew sadder. “But I can’t sleep without you in my bed. I can’t think, not knowing where you are each day, worrying where you’re spending your nights, if you’re warm enough or if you’ve had dinner.”
“Those aren’t your worries anymore.”
“They’ll always be my worries, Evelyn. Please, let me at least give you a ride where you need to go.”
Her shoulders sagged. She’d worked eight hours that day and didn’t have the energy to play hide and seek in a city the size of Folsom. She needed to get away from him, but clearly that wasn’t happening tonight.
“Fine.” His face lit with a smile. “You can drop me off at the Slumberland Motel.”
Happiness morphed to disapproval. “The fucking Slumberland, Evelyn? I don’t think so.”
She huffed in exasperation. “Then good-bye.” Pivoting on her heel, she walked away from him at a quick clip. Her steps faltered as he jerked her to a stop.
“I own the nicest fucking hotel in the city. Stay there. This is ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous! When will you get it? I don’t want anything to do with you!”
His lips thinned. “Nothing except my money.”
“Fuck you, Lucian. I’ll use that money as equity and get a lesser loan from the bank. I’m not stupid. With that as collateral I’ll get approved for at least half, and then I’ll gladly write you a check and give it all back if it comes with your manipulation or judgment. You know I’m not like that.”
“Don’t do that. I want you to have the money.”
“Then don’t make me feel like a user for taking it! It’s a loan, not a fucking handout.”
A frustrated groan rumbled from his chest as his hands fisted his hair. “Tell me what I can do? I just want a chance to make this right.”
“There is no this! There is no us. We are over. The sooner you come to terms with that the better.”
“Goddamn it, Evelyn, how can you say that?”
She glared up at him and in a voice far too calm to reflect all the turmoil raging inside of her, she said, “You gave me to him, Lucian. You gave me away to another man. I trusted you and I trusted him and you both betrayed me. I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“I explained. There was no choice. In time—”
“No! There’s no amount of time that will take back what you’ve done. You’ll always be the first man who touched me, the first man who l
oved me, and the first man to royally fuck me over, and I’ll never forget that. You can’t negotiate your way back into my heart. I won’t let you. If you think I’m bluffing, try me. All of my life I’ve had one cardinal rule: the only person I can trust is myself. I’m the only person I can count on to truly look out for me without ulterior motives. That’s what I’m doing now, looking out. I don’t need your hotel. I don’t need your damn limo to give me a ride. And I don’t need you.”
He stared at her, a blank expression on his face for a long moment. Finally, he whispered, “But I need you.”
Weary, she shut her eyes and shook her head. “You don’t need me, Lucian. You’re gorgeous, wealthy, and, for the most part, a sweet man. Find someone else to give your heart to. I don’t want it.”
“Is that what you really want?” he rasped.
No. God, no. The thought of him loving another woman was agonizing. “That’s what I need. That’s what’s for the best.”
“And what will you do, Evelyn? Will you find someone else?”
“My mind is so far away from that right now, Lucian, I can’t give you an answer.”
He visibly swallowed. “Will you be okay? Will you promise to come to me if there’s anything you need?”
His words showed he was relenting. That was what she needed, but the pain in her chest was back. “Yes.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know that means nothing to you right now, but it’s the truth.”
She looked away. He didn’t deserve any sign of forgiveness from her. She lacked even the ability to acknowledge his apology at that moment. Everything was still too fresh, too raw. It had only been a few days since she found out about his betrayal—his and Parker’s, the man she loved and the man she thought was her best friend.
She was tired, needed a shower and wanted to sleep in a bed with blankets. “Will you drive me to the motel?”
He hesitated, but nodded. They walked back to the limo in silence. Scout slid onto the cool leather seat and stared out the window. Lucian climbed in beside her and shut the door.
“Take us to the Slumberland Motel, Dugan,” he said, and the limo eased into traffic.
They arrived at the motel ten minutes later, neither of them speaking a word along the way. Dugan parked but didn’t get out. Scout sighed. Would they leave or continue this ridiculous trailing?
Her hand reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”
She was yanked back to the center of the bench seat, and Lucian’s mouth was suddenly on her. A squeak slipped past her throat as he kissed her hard, his fingers digging into her shoulders. It took everything she had not to melt into him.
He betrayed you!
Her palms shoved at his chest and he drew back. His breath was labored. “This is not the end of us, Evelyn. I don’t care what you say. I’m not done with you and you’re not done with me.”
Scrambling off the seat and out of the limo, Scout slammed the door behind her. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Lucian didn’t roll down the window or try to come after her. Her shaken expression reflected in the tinted glass, and she felt his eyes on her, staring through the barrier.
Turning, she headed toward the window with a blinking light. By the time she opened the motel’s office door, the limo glided away. She was shocked to actually see it go and keep going until it disappeared.
Wavering emotions had her hand settling over her empty belly. Disbelief that he’d actually gone was quickly followed by sharp devastation. Lucian never walked away from something he wanted. But what if he no longer truly wanted her? Careful what you wish for.
Perhaps this was all part of his next calculated move. Or perhaps this was truly the end of them. Asking for space didn’t make it any less painful to bear. She hated him, but missed him all the same. Love didn’t surrender to hate, it merely tolerated it like a sister emotion.
She’d bathe and rest here for a while, and then she’d move on. Tomorrow she had off, and she’d use the day to find a more permanent place to stay. Somewhere Lucian wouldn’t be able to find her, because as much as she insisted this was how she wanted things, her heart was of a whole different opinion.
She didn’t trust herself not to go running to him the first time life got complicated. If he knew where she was and knew how to find her, it would only take a matter of visits for her to give in. She was too vulnerable, and hiding herself away was a safeguard she needed until she could trust herself to be strong.
She needed to maintain distance or he would eventually wear her down. That was something she couldn’t allow. She needed to be done with him for her own good.
Chapter 3
The Key to Happiness . . .
“Scout? Come on, child. It’s getting dark.”
Scout turned as her mother came out of the house without windows. Boards with swirled graffiti filled each socket, eyes to a home without a soul. Dropping the piece of onion grass she’d been nibbling on, Scout stood, her gaze drawn back to the children across the way.
“Momma, what’s that place there?”
Her mother righted her clothing and stashed a bag of her medicine in her pocket. “That ain’t nothing you gots to be worrying about.”
Scout regarded the children running over the blacktop, their laughter floating on the breeze and teasing her in ways she didn’t understand. “But why’s all them kids there?”
Her mother huffed. “That’s a school, baby. Thems is there to learn.”
“Learn what?”
“Nothin’ you need to know. We different. Now come on.”
Her small fingers were swallowed in her mother’s bony hand as she was pulled down the sidewalk back toward the tracks. Each time she glanced back at the school, her mother tugged her along.
***
Scout frowned as she carefully drew the letter E. She’d been practicing her penmanship for over an hour, simply writing and rewriting EVELYN KEATS on the tiny notepad she found in the drawer of her motel. A callous formed above her knuckle, and she admired it like the badge of honor it was.
It was three in the morning and she couldn’t sleep. She’d rested for a few hours, but awoke restless and hungry. Nothing would be open until the sun rose, and her mind was running wild with things to do. She desperately wanted to write them down in a prioritized list, but the task was more frustrating than productive. She glanced at her shabbily jotted notes.
FINED HOME
FOOD
COTE
CHANJ ADRES
TUTHE BRUSH
SHAMPU
SOAP
Her bones were weak from thinking so hard. Anger rose, and each time she thought to blame someone else for her problems, she reminded herself her predicament was no one’s fault but her own.
Not knowing what the day would bring, around five she showered again, using tissue to carefully wrap the remainder of soap, stuffing it into her bag. Her clothes were wrinkled and damp from washing them in the small sink. She didn’t want them to get musty, but as the sky pinkened with the first sight of dawn, she grew eager to leave and folded them into her bag anyway.
Her stomach cramped with hunger. She’d taken to stealing dented cans of fruit from the back room of Clemons. It wasn’t technically stealing, being that the damaged cans were on their way to the dumpster. Her belly was revolting, and she was growing weaker with each passing hour. Her stomach needed a real meal, and she finally had the money to purchase one.
At seven, she laced up her sneakers and glanced around the room one last time, making sure she hadn’t left anything behind. She returned her key to the front desk and headed west, where a small diner was open.
Sidewalks were empty at this hour, aside from a distant silhouette moving along. The bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside. Shiny red stools were lined up along a counter, and there was a pie safe slowly sp
inning at the end. The snapping scent of bacon brought her hunger pains to the forefront of her mind. Her tired legs climbed onto the stool in the corner, far away from the truckers finding their morning meals. Older couples filled the booths lining the windows.
A waitress with bottled black hair and red lips pressed a napkin in front of her and slid over a grease-stained menu. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
A saucer and a mug appeared as the waitress filled it with steaming dark sustenance. The man to her left dropped some money on the counter and left. Scout eyed the paper he’d abandoned.
“You need a minute to decide, hon?”
Her gaze returned to the waitress. “Can I have French toast, please, and a side of bacon?”
“Sure thing.” The waitress jotted down the order and, before pinning it to the clips lining the cook window, began clearing the place to her left.
When her hand touched the newspaper Scout asked, “Do you mind if I take that?”
The waitress passed it to her and bustled off with an armful of dirty dishes. Scout self-consciously stared at the inky words scrambled over the pages. The door chimed repeatedly as patrons arrived, and soft chatter filled the small eatery, as did the scent of sizzling meats.
A heavy white plate slid in front of her. The French toast wasn’t as thick as the kind they served at Patras, and there were no strawberries, but the dish still earned a jolt of excitement from her empty belly. Sliding the paper aside, she picked up her fork and knife, noting the tiny scratches in the imitation silver, and dug in.
It was irritating not being able to clean her plate, but her stomach was overly sensitive from lack of food. She drank another cup of coffee and asked the waitress to wrap up the rest.
After using the bathroom, she returned to her stool to attempt the paper once more. The morning crowd shifted, newcomers ate, paid and left, and Scout found she was blinking back tears.
Coming Home Page 3
