The Duke of New York_A Contemporary Bad Boy Royal Romance

by Lisa Lace

  She knows what Connor has done. “Thank you.”

  We go to the room, which is guarded by two police officers, who look up when I arrive. Sitting on a seat in the hall is a man in a worn-out suit and a stained tie. He stands up when he sees me. “Miss Thorne?”

  “Yes?”

  He holds out his hand. “Lance Collins. “You’re only allowed to see Connor for a few minutes. They’ll be taking him into holding in the morning.”

  “Then what will happen?”

  “It will go to trial.”

  “Will he have to stay in jail until then?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  My knees grow weak. Henry holds onto me. “Can we go inside?”

  “You have five minutes.”

  We enter the private room. The walls are painted a horrible mint green, and the floors are off-white linoleum. It’s incredibly silent, although the smell of bleach makes my stomach turn.

  Connor is sitting up in the hospital bed. His face is bloodied and bruised, his knuckles grazed. There is a wild panic in his eyes like nothing I’ve ever seen before. When he sees me, he bursts into tears.

  When I see the cuff at his wrist, connected to the bar of the hospital bed, my eyes fill with tears, and I cry. I go to him and immediately wrap my arms around him. It’s instinctive. I will always love my brother, and the urge to protect him—even from the consequences of his own mistakes—is overwhelming.

  He holds onto me and cries like a baby. The big, strong, tough-as-nails exterior has crumbled, and underneath is a scared little child realizing how badly he’s messed up.

  “Oh, Connor,” I say. “What have you done?”

  “It was just a fight,” Connor tells me, gasping for breath between sobs. “We’d been out drinking. There was a fight over some girl. He said something I didn’t like, so I threw a punch. He threw one back. The bar kicked us out, and next thing, we’re fighting on the street. We were both fighting, Lissy! It was a bar brawl, that’s all. A normal fight, like I’ve been in a hundred times before.”

  “Did you have a weapon?” I ask. “A knife? A bottle?”

  He shakes his head fervently. “It was a fist-fight. After he socked me in the jaw, I swung a punch at his head, and he went down like that. He never got back up.” Connor begins to shake with the effort of his sobs. He’s trembling with fear, his face starkly pale against the rusty color of the dried blood on his lips. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  I sit on the mattress beside him and cradle his head against my chest. My heart is breaking. This isn’t what I wanted for my brother.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” I tell him. “I’m going to do everything I can.”

  Connor wraps his arms around my neck and clings to me like a child. “I’m sorry, Lissy, for everything.”

  “I know.”

  I squeeze him tightly. It’s been so long since Connor has held onto me like this, and I’m filled with compassion. No matter what the rest of the world might see in him, I’ve only ever seen a scared little boy.

  There’s a knock at the door, and an officer steps in. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re going to have to ask you to step outside now.”

  “Just one more minute?” I beg.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I turn back to Connor and give him one last hug, then take him by the shoulders and catch his eyes. “I’m going to be fighting for you.”

  I’m clinging onto him so tightly that Henry has to come and gently peel me away. I lean against him as we leave the room, or else I’d collapse under the weight of my own emotions.

  Once we’re outside the room, I bawl in Henry’s arms.

  “How can this be happening?” I cry. “It was an accident. Anyone can see he didn’t mean to kill him. What am I going to do?”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “This would never have happened if Mom was still around. I’ve failed him. I kicked him out. I—I—”

  Henry gently pushes my head down to rest against his chest as my guilt begins to escalate. He kisses my forehead and sways with me gently. “You didn’t take him to that bar. You didn’t start that fight. This is not your fault.”

  “I can’t let him go to jail.”

  “It’s out of our hands.”

  “He’s only got a public defender. I can’t afford a private attorney.” The reality of how helpless I am makes me feel weak. “They’re going to throw him under the bus to set an example. They won’t even consider what he’s been through.”

  “You don’t know that. You need to trust the lawyers to do their jobs.”

  “I don’t trust them. They’re going to throw him to the wolves.”

  “We’ll find a way to help him somehow.”

  I look up at Henry devotedly. I’m filled with endless gratitude that he’s here. Even though I know Henry doesn’t think a lot of Connor, and even though I know Henry would rather Connor wasn’t around, for my sake, he’s still there to support me—and Connor—when everything is falling apart.

  Another long battle lies ahead for my brother and me—but at least this time, I’m not alone.

  Henry

  After hours of pacing my room, I finally sink down onto the edge of my bed and put my head in my hands.

  What a stupid, reckless, drunk idiot. He deserves everything that’s coming to him. He killed a man.

  I take a deep breath to calm down. I’m furious at Connor for everything he’s done. I’m disgusted he’s so needlessly taken a life and enraged he’s put Melissa in a position where she has to clean up his messes again. I want to tell her to let Connor face the consequences of his actions on his own, but I know Melissa would never do that. Her soul is too kind.

  And that’s why I love her.

  I want to help, but I don’t know how. My bank balance is at the lowest it’s ever been, what with having to cover my own expenses on the allowance my father has given me. I have no money to cover the fees of a private attorney, which, at this point, is Connor’s only hope.

  The facts are: Connor threw the first punch, Connor threw the last punch, and this is not Connor’s first violent offense. Whether or not he went out intending to take a life that night, he’s had enough close brushes with the law to know better. In the eyes of any rational judge, Connor’s a man on a road to self-destruction, who’s not afraid to take down others with him. Plus, the fact he was high—It doesn’t look good for Connor.

  There’s only one thing I can do. I pick up my phone and call my father.

  When he answers, I can hear the disapproval in his voice before I’ve even said anything. “Henry. It’s unlike you to call me. What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “I’m not in trouble.”

  “Money, then. I’m not giving you anything. You have enough for the year, and if you’ve blown through it all, you’ll have to find your own way of paying the rest of your term’s expenses. It’s about time you learned a little about personal responsibility.”

  I take a deep breath and look down at my lap. “You’re right. I’m calling to ask for a loan. But it’s not for me.”

  “What then?”

  “You just need to trust me.”

  “Ha!” My father’s scornful laugh echoes down the line. “I’ve lived through the aftermath of enough of your pranks to know that I can’t trust you, Henry. What have you done this time? Burned down a classroom? Crashed a friend’s car? Vandalized a building? I’m sorry, but I’m not throwing money away so you can save face. If you’ve caused a problem, it’s your job to face the consequences.”

  “I said, it’s not for me.”

  “What, then? Is it that little girlfriend of yours?”

  I don’t answer. My silence is all my father needs to hear. He scoffs. “Of course, it is. I told you all she was after was money, didn’t I? This is why you only ought to date within your own circles. If you don’t, you end up attracting women who are only looking for a free ride. You’ll learn that the hard way in the end.”
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br />   My blood boils at the way he talks about Melissa, but I keep my cool because I need his help. “She hasn’t asked for anything.”

  “You want to impress her with some fancy gesture, is that it? Take her skiing? Buy her jewelry? You’re only playing her game.”

  “Will you stop?” I snap impatiently. “I’m not asking for money to get myself out of trouble, to waste on something stupid, or to spoil a woman.”

  “How much are you after?”

  I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks redden even as I say the figure. “A hundred thousand pounds.”

  There’s a pause on the end of the line. Then my father bursts into loud, contemptuous laughter. “Even for you, Henry, that’s a stupid amount to ask for. Why on earth do you think I’d give you that sort of money with no explanation?”

  “You’d do it if it were for Alexander.”

  “Yes, and Alexander would use it to make a wise investment, then pay it back within a couple of months. You would take it, waste it, and I’d never see a penny of it again.”

  “I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t really need it.”

  “I’m not giving you a single penny unless you tell me what it’s for.”

  I let out a slow breath. I know telling my father the truth won’t help me, but it’s the only option left. “Melissa’s brother has been charged with a crime, and she can’t afford a private attorney.”

  The silence at the end of the line this time is longer and more intense. When my father speaks at last, his voice trembles with rage, and is low and dangerous. “I warned you that girl was no good, but you wouldn’t listen. You only wanted to stroke your ego by rescuing a damsel in distress, enjoying the novelty of being swooned over for your accent and father’s fortune. Now you’re naïve enough to fall for her scam?”

  “It’s not a scam. I’ve seen her brother in the hospital. I’ve seen the police. Met the lawyer.”

  “You think that makes it better?” My father’s voice raises a pitch in anger. “You want me to give you my money so you can bail out her degenerate brother? What has he been charged with? Dealing drugs? Burglary?”

  I don’t reply. The word manslaughter is too violent. It conjures up imagery of a vicious, dangerous person. Which Connor is, or was. Finally, I manage, “I just want to help Melissa. She means a lot to me.”

  “I don’t care, Henry. I don’t care if she’s the love of your life, mother to your children, or top of the class at Harvard. She’s from a dysfunctional, criminal family, and she’s using you to claw her way into the next social tier.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “I’ve known enough like her. A woman with any kind of morals about her wouldn’t dream of bringing you into something like this. Now you want to throw money at her? Those kinds of sums? You’re an idiot, Henry. Sometimes the things you say and do make me thoroughly ashamed to be your father. I cannot believe you would be so ignorant. Learn to think with your head, boy, instead of other parts.”

  I’m so angry my blood feels like it’s sparking inside my veins, little bursts of hot electricity. The veins in my jaw and temple throb. Pressure builds behind my eyes. “For once in my life, I’m putting someone else before myself. I thought this was the kind of man you wanted me to be.”

  “Then you’re more of a fool than I thought you were. If you want my approval, Henry, drop that girl and drop her fast. She’s a scheming gold-digger, and you’re playing right into her hands. Don’t let your head get turned by a pretty American with a sob story. In fact, if you want me to continue to support you, you’ll end things tonight. The last thing this family needs is another scandal.”

  “Why do you care so much what people think? All my life, that’s all that’s mattered to you.”

  “You wouldn’t understand, Henry. You’re reckless and selfish. What’s important means nothing to you. You’d rather cause a scandal for two minutes of attention than work hard to earn a reputation. You tell me which one really counts.”

  “Forget it,” I say. “I don’t know why I bothered to call. I should have known all I’d get is a lecture.”

  “Good. I don’t want to hear any more about it. Don’t you give a single penny to that girl. You break up with her, you hear me? She’s leading you toward trouble.”

  Melissa

  The apartment feels empty without Connor in it. Since he’s been gone, I’ve had peace, but also a kind of emptiness. There’s no smoke or clutter, no noise or drugs, but there’s also the feeling of being alone for the first time since I was twenty-one; nobody to look after, nobody to watch out for.

  If I had been watching out for him, he wouldn’t be in prison now.

  I close my eyes and push the thought away. Even if Connor had been living with me, he could have gone out and been in a fight any time he’d gone to a bar. This didn’t happen because I made him leave.

  For hours, I’ve been sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and a cold cup of coffee in my hands, staring blankly ahead and thinking about how deeply Connor has gotten himself into trouble this time, questioning how I’m ever going to help him. When there’s a knock at my door, I jump.

  I stand and go to the door. On the other side is Henry. I force a smile. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I came by to see how you were doing.”

  I shrug. “As well as can be expected, I guess.” I lead him over to the coffee table and pick up a bunch of papers I’ve printed from online. “I’ve been doing some research. The court service center will help me fill out all the forms, and the Harvard Legal Aid Bureau can help, too. There’s this telephone hotline for referrals. I called them this morning and didn’t really get any leads, but I’m going to keep trying. You know, if I get someone different on the phone, they might know more. I’ve been getting some information together about psychologists, too. I want to get Connor assessed—the trauma of losing Mom and being raised by me has to be considered, right? It’s got to be a mitigating factor.”

  I hold up all the papers helplessly. They’re a jumbled, confused mess, but I’ve found it hard to follow a single train of thought. I’ve thrown my net wide, searching for anything at all that might help Connor’s case.

  “If I can’t get Connor a decent attorney, the least I can do is as much research on my own as possible to help prepare a case. After all, I know my brother better than anyone. I know what makes him tick. I know why he gets into trouble. I know, deep down, he’s a good person.”

  Henry steps in and sits down beside me on the sofa. “I have something that might help even more.” He hands me a brown envelope.

  I open it, then drop it like hot coals when I realize it’s stuffed with money.

  “There’s twenty thousand in bills, and a check for the rest.”

  “The rest?”

  “A hundred and fifty thousand dollars, all told.”

  I look down at the envelope in complete disbelief. I’ve never seen so much money in my life. Then, I glance back up at Henry. “Where did you get all this?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “Why did you bring all this money here?”

  He presses the envelope into my hands. “It’s for Connor’s defense.”

  “I can’t accept this, Henry.”

  “I want you to. Jesus, Melissa, you deserve to be happy. If doing right by Connor makes you happy, then I’ll do everything I can to help.”

  “Did you get this from your father?” I guess. “I can’t take it. He already hates me. I don’t want him to know about all this.”

  “It’s not my father’s money.”

  “Then how?”

  He reaches out and folds my hands over the envelope. “I said not to worry about it. It’s all legal, and it’s all mine—to do with as I want. I want you to have it, for Connor.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you hated Connor.”

  “But I love you.” His voice is firm and sincere. His eyes catch mine, and he doesn�
��t break his gaze. “This case will consume you, and I don’t want to see any more of you buried under the weight of all Connor’s mistakes. Please, take it.”

  I stare at the money, and I’m torn. I don’t feel like there’s any way I can accept this kind of money from Henry, but, at the same time, the thought of Connor rotting away in jail breaks my heart.

  I know he committed a crime. I know someone died because of his actions. But any drunk could have made the same mistake. Anyone who’s ever had a few too many and thrown a punch could have accidentally taken a life.

  I know he didn’t mean it. I know he’s scared. I know he’s sorry.

  Henry sees my hesitation and lays a hand on my knee. “In the time I’ve known you, I’ve seen you give everything to Connor. In fact, you’d do anything for anyone. You’ve fought for him day and night for years. You’ve given and given and given, even when you had nothing more to give. And you’ve never had a thing in return.

  “It’s your turn to be helped, Lissy. You don’t need to feel guilty, ashamed, or indebted. It’s the world paying you back for all the good you’ve done in it.”

  “It’s not the world giving me anything,” I say softly, looking up at him. “It’s you. And you don’t owe me anything. I can’t take this money.”

  “Please. I want you to have it.”

  “It’s too much.”

  “I have everything I need. I wouldn’t give it to you if it wasn’t money I could spare. You’re not taking the clothes from my back, Lissy. I can afford to give this to you. Please, take it. It would mean a lot to me if you’d accept it.”

  “I can’t let you pay for Connor’s defense. It has nothing to do with you. It’s not your fault, it’s not your problem. Henry, it’s not your fight.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he replies. “I love you. You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you? Anything.”

  “But—”

  He silences me with a loving kiss. “No ‘buts.’ Take it.”

  I look down at the envelope in my hands. I can feel the weight of the money on my lap. Inside is enough money to let me keep my promise to always look out for Connor.