Conflicted

by Missy Johnson

  Conflicted

  By

  Ruby Black

  COPYRIGHT @ Ruby Black Books

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Printing: May 2016

  Connect with Ruby

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Ruby-Black-966302863381225/?fref=ts

  Website: https://rubyblackbooks.wordpress.com

  Join my mailing list to stay up to date on new releases and giveaways

  https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/r9w5e1

  Prologue

  Lucas

  “What the fuck do you want?” I mutter. My mouth falls into a scowl as he crouches down beside me. He reaches for the half-burned cigarette I’m rolling between my fingers and runs it along the concrete step beneath him.

  “That shit will kill you.”

  “As if you give a damn,” I scoff.

  His head snaps in my direction, but I don’t look at him because it hurts too much. I’ve coped without him for the last twelve years and I’ll do just fine without him in my life now.

  “Why are you even here? It’s not like you cared about either of us. You made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with me the last time we saw each other.”

  He sighs and reaches for the tie hanging around his neck. He yanks it roughly until it loosens. “Lucas—”

  “What?” I challenge. “What could you possibly have to say that I’d want to hear? That you’re sorry? That you feel bad for me? Or that you want to help me?” I get to my feet, my hands balled into fists beside me, and face him. “I don’t need your help, Dad.”

  I walk inside the church and don’t look back. Inside, I search the room for Lacey, sighing when I spot her at the front, beside the casket. I walk up, ignoring the pitying looks of people I don’t really know: my grandmother’s bridge partners, her tennis friends, our neighbours—people who wanted one last chance to say goodbye to Gran.

  “Hey,” Lace says when I reach her. She wraps her arms around me, her long dark hair cascading around her shoulders.

  I embrace her, resting my chin on the crest of her shoulder. She smells sweet, like fairy floss and lemonade, and in her arms is the only place I feel anything right now.

  She’s the only person I have left, and I’m terrified of losing her too.

  “Where did you go?” she asks, her voice soft. Her blue eyes look at me, but not with pity. She’s concerned about me and I love her for that.

  “Just needed some fresh air,” I mumble.

  “Is that why you smell like a cigarette factory?” she gently chastises me.

  I give her a look and she smiles.

  “I know. You get today off.” She hesitates, wetting her lips before meeting my gaze again. “I’m worried about you, Lucas.”

  “Don’t be,” I say, managing a smile. “I’m pretty resilient. It takes more than this to crush my spirit.”

  “I know how much she meant to you,” Lace says. She reaches up and touches my face. “I know this isn’t much, but at least she isn’t suffering anymore.”

  I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I know she’s right, but the selfish part of me would still have her here, in pain, beside me. She was more of a mother to me than my own mother. She practically raised me. I put on a brave face, but the truth is I don’t know how I’m going to manage without her.

  Everyone I love ends up leaving me. Everyone I let close to me suffers, and then pays the ultimate price. What’s the point of letting people in if it ends in suffering? It doesn’t make any sense. If there’s no reward, then why bother?

  I pull Lacey close and kiss her forehead. She is my whole world, and the one person I’d do anything to protect. Even if it means sacrificing my own happiness, I’ll keep her safe. If that means keeping her at a distance, then that’s how it has to be. I press my nose against her long dark hair and breathe. This is as close as I’ll ever let her get and it kills me.

  But, it’s a small price to pay to know that she’ll always be around.

  Chapter One

  Lacey

  “I’ve never met anyone who is so blind to their lack of ability to carry a tune.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I turn to Lucas and raise my middle finger, not missing a beat of the John Lennon song I’m singing. He chuckles and narrows his chocolate brown eyes in amusement as he reaches forward and switches the car radio off.

  “Hey,” I cry out, swatting his arm. I push my long dark hair back over my shoulder and glower at him. “I was listening to that.”

  “No,” he corrects, arching an eyebrow. He turns his attention back to driving. He rubs his jaw and lets out a husky chuckle. “You were ruining it. You can desecrate the memory of John Lennon in your own time, okay? Now, are you going to help me or not?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” I grumble, annoyed at his ability to kill my mood. “I don’t make it a habit to get up this early on a Sunday morning. Why are we doing this, anyway?”

  “I told you, the only way they’ll let me make up my grade is to do some stupid project with Sara Bonner.” He shrugs as if nearly failing engineering is no big deal, and pulls into the parking lot of the physics department.

  It’s ten o’clock on Sunday morning, and not surprisingly we are one of only a few cars in the entire lot of Sydney University, the campus where we are both students. I’m in my final year of a double degree in criminology and psychology, and Lucas is in his last year of an engineering degree. As much as I enjoy my classes, going out of my way to attend school on the weekend is not my idea of a good time, though some people—namely Lucas—would argue that.

  We climb out of the car and begin the short trek across the grounds to the main entrance of the university. At least helping Lucas has gotten me out of seeing my family. Today is my parents’ anniversary, and to celebrate they’ve gone all out in planning a huge party. When I told them I couldn’t make it they were more concerned with how that was going to look to their friends, rather than the fact that they haven’t seen me in two months. That pretty much sums up my relationship with them. For as long as I can remember, they’ve only cared about what everyone else thinks. There was a time when that really upset me, but moving away from home for university was a pivotal moment in helping me accept that my parents are never going to change.

  Four years ago, the thought of leaving my friends and family to travel halfway across the country to go to college terrified me. As much as we have our differences, my parents are the only family I have. I guess that’s why I spent so long trying to please them. Only nothing is ever good enough for one of the country’s most prolific criminal attorneys, or his wife, so why keep trying?

  Nowadays, I focus on myself, my grades, and the people who actually care about me. Everything else takes a back seat.

  “I don’t get why your marks are so bad,” I say, not letting it drop. “If you spent a quarter of the time focused on passing class that you did chasing skirts, you’d be fine.”

  “Chasing skirts?” He chortles. “How old are you, sixty?” The laughter in his eyes contradicts his annoyed tone. “I’ve coped fine without a mother for the last ten years, Lacey. I don’t need one now. Why do you care so much, anyway? I’m not an idiot. I’ll get the grade I need to pass.”

  “Because you’re capable of doin
g so much more than just the minimum,” I respond. It’s a conversation we have regularly, and each time I get more and more frustrated. “And stop playing the dead mother card.”

  “It’s a card now?” he chuckles, his mouth lifting into a crooked grin. “I don’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed that it no longer works on you.”

  “Because I know you too well, idiot. You only ever talk about it when you want something, and that makes it a card,” I retort.

  As much as I love Lucas, sometimes he annoys the hell out of me. He laughs everything off as a joke when I know it’s just to cover how he’s really feeling. Nobody goes through what he has without some serious emotional damage occurring. I’m the closest person to him and sometimes I still feel so far away from seeing who he really is.

  I groan and shade the sunlight from my eyes. I reach into my handbag and pull out a hair tie, wrapping it around my hair. “I should still be asleep. I don’t even know how you roped me into this. I’m such a good friend.”

  He lets out a howl as he reaches over and shoves me playfully. “Have you forgotten how many times I’ve rescued your sorry arse from the dates from hell that Ariel has tried to set you up on?”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  I begrudgingly admit he might be onto something. Our friend and my roommate, Ariel, means well, but the girl is obsessed with finding me a man. The problem is, I have little interest in being in a relationship. Not that she’ll ever accept that. It’s impossible for her to understand that maybe I don’t want a guy. She can’t understand why someone could possibly want to spend all their time studying. A pass is good enough for her, so what’s the point in putting in more effort than the minimum? Thankfully, her views on friendships are just the opposite. I’ve never known anyone more loyal and supportive of their friends—with the exception of Lucas. I know he’d do anything for me.

  “Where is she today, anyway?” I ask. “How come you didn’t rope her into this?”

  “Some family thing, I don’t know,” he shrugs, distracted with his phone. He shoves it in his pocket and yanks at my arm, dragging me in the direction of the physics department.

  We walk through the deserted halls towards the business classrooms. Sara waits outside the door, her pretty face forming a pout when she sees me. I narrow my eyes because I know exactly how this is going to go down. I’m positive she only offered to help Lucas out in order to be alone with him.

  “I didn’t realise you were bringing a friend,” she says as she approaches us. She says ‘friend’ like I’m a wart that needs to be burnt off. I smother a laugh as Lucas nudges me.

  “I didn’t think it would be a problem. Lace aced this class last semester. I figured we could use the help,” he says, raking his dark hair away from his eyes.

  “Since when is physics part of your degree?” she says, her tone snide. “Or did you do it for fun?”

  “I did it because I needed a math elective,” I retort, mimicking her tone.

  “Well, the professor made it clear that we are to do this by ourselves.” She addresses me, giving me a cold stare, her painted lips pursed. “So, you have to go. And last time I checked, I’m top of this class. I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m here helping you as a favour.”

  “Does the prof really need to know?” asks Lucas, his lips forming the same crooked grin I’ve seen work on many girls. “Because I don’t see her around here.”

  “Listen, I’ll get the extra credit I’m after whether you pass or not. If she stays, I go.” Her perfectly manicured hand rests on her hip as she waits for him to respond. He sighs and looks at me apologetically.

  I don’t even know what to say, so all I do is shake my head. Is she for real? Because I’m struggling to believe anyone could be that big of a cow. But I shrug, because I don’t have the energy or inclination to waste my time by engaging her. I give Lucas a pointed look and wait for him to say something in my defence.

  “Here,” he says. He throws me his keys. Catching them, I laugh. I can’t drive manual and he damn well knows that.

  “Well, I guess I’m spending the next two hours filling in time, huh?” I say, narrowing my eyes. I’m beyond pissed, but I should’ve expected this from him. As wonderful as he can be, he can also be the world’s biggest cock.

  “I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

  I roll my eyes as he disappears into the classroom, and I wonder what I’m going to do while I wait. Sighing, I turn on my heel and stalk out of the building. Outside, I glance up at the grey sky and wonder how long it will be until the rain starts falling. Like always, the weather has been unpredictable, so it’s my own fault for trusting the clear blue sky this morning and opting for a flimsy cotton tee shirt and a pair of shorts.

  I head in the direction of the library, praying that it’s open. I push on the door, sighing with relief when it spills open. I count two other students as I make my way over to one of the small leather couches that line the far wall, overlooking the courtyard. Sitting down, I pull out my Kindle and begin to lose myself in a book.

  Yawning, I glance at my watch and see that I’ve been sitting here for nearly three hours. How much longer can they take? If I’d known it was going to be this long I would’ve caught the bus home. I rest my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes. I’m too tired to keep reading and too lazy to do anything else. I wish I could blame my tiredness on a big night the previous night, but I don’t think finishing an assignment for my Institutional Psychology class counts.

  If Ariel was here she’d remind me that this is why I’m alone: I spend too much time focusing on my schoolwork and not enough time having fun. Come to think of it, Lucas would say the same thing. Those two don’t agree on much, but my lack of a love life is one of the things they do.

  “Lacey, I was just talking about you.”

  My eyes fly open. I look up and see my Legal Studies teacher, Professor Jameson. Professor Jameson is by far one of my favourite teachers. She makes a relatively boring subject interesting. I eye her jeans and sweatshirt, which are a much more casual getup than I’m used to seeing her in. She smiles widely.

  “Not my usual attire, I know,” she laughs. She lowers her voice to a whisper and adds, “I’m not really here. My laptop packed it in, so I just stopped in for my work one on the way to my son’s soccer match. And it’s a good thing I did. I just finished a very interesting phone call. About you.”

  “Really?” I say, my cheeks heating. I don’t know what else to say. I’m curious as to who she would be talking about me with, especially on a weekend, but too embarrassed to actually ask. I'm in the top five percent of my course, but it still makes me nervous that I’ve done something wrong. God, it’s crazy how much damage my childhood has done to me. “Should I be worried?” I add, only half joking.

  “Not at all. I was going to come and find you tomorrow, but I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you. You've heard of Wilmot and Associates—or more specifically, Aaron Wilmot?”

  “Sure,” I reply with a little too much enthusiasm. Who hasn’t heard of him? Aaron Wilmot is a shark in his profession. He's one of the top barristers in the country and he’s represented some of the country's most prolific criminals. He always wins and he's been known to tear his opponents and their witnesses to shreds. He’s been up against my father more than once, and though he would never admit it, my father detests him. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I idolise the guy so much.

  “Well, his firm contacted us and a few of the other top universities in the country,” Professor Jameson explains. “You know they offer yearly internships for law students? Well, this year he's offering a similar opportunity for a student majoring in forensic psychology.”

  “That's great,” I say, still not sure what that has to do with me. Is she suggesting I apply?

  “He'd like to interview the top five students in the course,” she continues, smiling. “And you are one of them.”

  “Wow, that's amazing,”
I say. I can’t help it, I’m buzzing. Just being offered an opportunity to meet Aaron is incredible. I feel giddy just thinking about it. Actually working with him for three months, I don’t even want to think about. If my father found out I was even considering applying…I shudder. I don’t even want to think about that, either. “Do you know how many students in total are being asked to apply?” I add, not wanting to get my hopes up.

  “Five students from each of the top ten universities in the country.”

  My heart sinks a little. I have a one in fifty chance. Not the best odds, even with my exceptional marks. I’m already consoling myself on not being chosen.

  “He did seem particularly interested in you, though, Lacey,” she adds, her eyes twinkling. “And I shouldn't be telling you this, but I may have indicated if I had to choose one student for him to interview, it would have to be you.”

  I blush, embarrassed by her praise. She’s always telling me how far she thinks I will go, and I usually brush her comments off, but for once her words are actually sinking in. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I do have a chance.

  “Thanks, Professor Jameson. That means a lot.” In the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder if my father has anything to do with Aaron’s interest in me. That would be one sure way to rattle the opponent…

  “I'll email you through the information now.” Professor Jameson’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Fill out the form and send it back to me as soon as you can. There are a few questions you need to answer. Take your time, but get it done soon, okay?”

  “I will,” I promise her, already itching to get home and start.

  I watch her leave, my mind a jumble of thoughts. I stand up, needing fresh air to process all of this. Aaron Wilmot. Holy shit. If anything was ever out of my reach, it would have to be this. I laugh. Just ten seconds ago I was letting myself believe I had a chance at this, and now I’m back to being negative. I hate being the girl who lacks confidence in herself and who questions everything, but what can I say? I’m a product of my upbringing.