Never Let Me Go
Page 11
“I prefer you talking to me about it than just walking away. I can handle it.”
“Will you accompany me to Mr. Sinclair’s dinner this evening?”
“Of course. Oh, but what about Alaric?”
“Goldie will be here by then. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on him.”
“Are you sure? That isn’t part of her job description.” The last thing I wanted to do was pour salt in her wounds.
“She’ll be fine, don’t worry.” His hands lingered on my face before he moved to Alaric.
He jumped on the bed right next to him, they didn’t need to talk in order to enjoy each other’s company.
DORIAN
It was so odd being back in the family study again. I ran my hand on the edge of the table, remembering how she gripped onto it, and glanced up at the bookshelf…
“Are you sure you don’t need to bring the proposal?”
“Huh?” Goldie stood on the other side of the desk. She’d arrived to make sure we had everything. “Right, the proposal. It’s perfect. I know it by heart. But I have a feeling Mr. Sinclair isn’t going to care to hear it. Tonight, he will be throwing jabs.”
“Then make him care. Explain to him Sinclair Group came from Rhys-Gallagher National, and it only makes sense to return to the fold.” She sounded more frustrated than I did.
I snickered. “I’ll do my best.”
“Your bowtie is crooked,” she said, and immediately straightened it.
Luella stood in the doorway, wearing a long off-the-shoulder red dress that hugged every inch of her. I swallowed, staring at her smooth warm skin.
Jesus, she’s beautiful.
“Are you guys finished?” She pointed, and it was only then did I realize how close Goldie and I were.
“She was helping with my tie,” I said, nervously pulling on it.
Luella spoke up. “Thank you, Goldie, and thank you for watching Alaric. He’s asleep, but should he need anything, please let me know.”
“Of course. You two have a good evening.”
“I will call if anything happens.” I took Luella’s hand, shivering at the touch.
“I’m going to peek in on Alaric before we go,” I said. I’d always hated how my father never said goodbye when I was young. I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake.
GOLDIE
You want to be Dorothy and not the Wicked Witch of the East.
“Goldie?”
“Yes!” I did my best to be cheerful.
Luella’s expression said she could see right through me.
“I know you have feelings for him.” She spoke so directly, I was stunned for a second.
“What? No. No! Please don’t misunderstand the tie thing,” I tried to explain.
“All I want for Dorian is to be happy. He deserves that,” she told me as if I didn’t already know that.
“Nothing is going on between us. It just looked bad when you came in.” I didn’t want to smile, but I could feel the corners of my mouth turn up. “Here to give me the whole ‘don’t touch my man’ speech?”
“It’s not like that,” she replied. “I just… If you’re important to him, I don’t want you to feel like we have to be enemies or something.”
“You do have feelings for him, right?”
“It’s complicated.” The fact that she couldn’t even answer clearly gutted me. She didn’t know. Meanwhile, here I was. “People’s feelings aren’t very simple. We’re focusing simply on trying for Alaric right now. I wouldn’t normally say anything, but you’re watching him tonight, and I want to make sure you’re all right with that.”
“Of course. I’m not one of those insane women who get all jealous. I’m fine. It’s just a crush.”
“Good, because if anything happened to my son, I wouldn’t hesitate to show you or anyone else the definition of an insane woman.” She smiled, yet I got the vibe she didn’t mean that in a funny or joking manner.
“I swear he’ll be fine. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you two meet?” How could I have not noticed her all of these years? She was stunning and elegant. What family was she from? Thorne? I didn’t know any Thornes.
She looked around the room. “We met here.”
How complicated could things between them be if she had such a dazed look on her face just looking around a den? What was between them? Why did I care so much? Why did it bother me so much to know she wasn’t some stuck up bitch? She actually seemed nice, and I couldn’t be bitchy to someone like that.
Before I could ask anything else, Dorian was back. “I think he fooled you, he’s still awake, but I’m sure he will be out soon.”
“I should have known.” She joined him.
He changed when he was with her. When I touched him, he stiffened and forced himself to tolerate me, but he eagerly sought out her hand, like it made him feel better.
This sucks.
“Bye.” I waved as they walked outside to the waiting car.
He helped her in, his hand courteously on her waist, and I couldn’t watch anymore. I closed the door and leaned against it.
“Hi.” Alaric sat on the stairs, wearing Thor pajamas, staring at me with big blue eyes.
“Hi, shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Not sleepy, can I have ice cream?”
“What would your mom say?”
He pouted. “I don’t know. Can we keep it a secret? I will share.”
I laughed. “Okay.”
“Yes.” He fist-pumped in the air.
“Can I ask you a question about your mom?”
“Yep.” He followed me into the kitchen.
“Where does she work?”
“She cooks. Mommy’s food is super yummy. Even the vegetables.”
“Really, and what about your family? Do you know any of them?” I reached into the freezer, getting the ice cream.
He paused, thinking. “There is me, Mommy, Daddy, and Aunty Eva.”
“Eva what?”
“I can’t say her last name, it’s hard.” He picked up the spoon and happily ate ice cream. I leaned against the counter, watching him.
Was I really so desperate I had to go through their son?
Yes.
I’d loved Dorian since he first held the door for me in Economics. He wasn’t like other guys. He was kind and respectful, but he still had an edge. He was like this never-ending mystery. A mystery that was now being solved by someone else. It hurt. I felt bad, but a part of me hoped, prayed, they wouldn’t work out, that something would rip them apart.
“Wow, you bent it,” he signed, looking at the spoon in my hand.
“Oops.” Pulling out my phone, I texted Rafael. Talk me off the ledge. I’m bending spoons now.
LUELLA
When we arrived at the Sinclair Mansion, I knew I was cursed. I wasn’t sure until this very moment, but I knew without a doubt that I was never meant to be happy.
“Mr. Sinclair,” Dorian said, greeting the man.
Roman Sinclair was nothing like the old man I’d pictured. He stood proudly, with brown hair peppered with silver, freckles on his nose, and hazel eyes. He had to be in his early sixties. He wore a dark suit and red ascot. He was a few inches shorter than me, yet that didn’t seem to bother him at all. A slender woman with short red hair and white pearls around her neck stood beside him, elegant and proud.
He ignored Dorian and took my hand, kissing it. “Who, my dear, are you?”
“Mr. Sinclair, meet Luella Thorne, my date for the evening.”
Mr. Sinclair paid him no attention. “How do you know this stuffy bastard? I thought he was one of the boy lovers.”
Now I was annoyed. Pulling away, I smiled. “I’m the mother of this stuffy bastard’s son, and I’m quite pleased I didn’t bring him tonight.”
His eyebrows rose, and he finally looked at Dorian, who stood there emotionlessly, as if he was more than done with this night already.
“You have a son?”
“
His name is Alaric, he’s five.”
“Why don’t we all sit down,” the woman beside him said.
We followed them into the red carpeted dining hall, with the massive rock waterfall as a backdrop next to our table. Dorian pulled out my chair, which was across Hugh.
“Ms. Thorne, I would like you to meet my wife, Laura, my future son-in-law, Hugh Edmund, and my daughter, Portia.” Mr. Sinclair pointed to his wife, then Hugh, and then a beautiful redhead who sat beside him, with dark brown eyes that matched her mother’s.
“Nice to meet you all.” It wasn’t.
“Likewise.” He probably meant it.
I didn’t know him as Hugh Edmund. I knew him as Zeus, a former and rather oppressive client. Hugh glanced at me once or twice from across the table, and the evilest smile crossed his lips. He kicked my foot under the table. I looked away, staring at my knife.
He looked at Dorian, shaking his head like he was fighting from laughing. Every time I looked away, he would kick me until I met his eyes. I wanted to tell Dorian, but he was speaking to Mr. Sinclair.
I was in hell, and I couldn’t even scream.
11
Gods, Monsters and Men
LUELLA
There was a bruise on my leg, I was sure of it. I'd backed my chair up, hoping to stay out of Hugh’s reach, and he’d glared at me so angrily, I felt scared.
“I heard you’ve taken over Edmund Enterprises and broken it into a thousand little pieces,” Mr. Sinclair said, swirling the wine in his glass before breathing it in.
“I believe ‘thousand’ is a bit of a stretch,” Dorian answered, cutting into his steak.
“How the hell am I supposed to trust you with the Sinclair Group if all you care about is butchering companies and selling them to the highest bidder?”
“I butcher what can’t be saved. If Mr. Edmund had done right by his company, I never would’ve had to step in.”
“Keep talking, Gallagher. When I hit you back, you aren’t going to see it coming. You break my business, and I’m going to break everything around you.” Even though Hugh didn’t look at me, I felt as though the comment was meant for me.
“And here I thought this was business, not personal.”
Hugh snickered. “If you really think that, you’re a bigger bastard than I thought. You stole my family’s legacy. But don’t worry, keep kissing my father-in-law’s ass.”
“Ladies, I’m sorry for the show of testosterone.” Mr. Sinclair sat up, his eyes shifting to us around the table.
“I actually quite enjoy it. It’s like a battle of gladiators.” Portia clapped, then placed a hand on her husband’s shoulders.
“Gladiators? Try Greek Gods. And Zeus always rules.” Hugh kissed her hand.
“What do you think, Luella?” Mr. Sinclair asked.
I stuffed a piece of lobster in my mouth to keep from speaking, but he waited for an answer. “I’m not sure about gladiators or Greek Gods. Companies are real things, with hard-working people. That’s more than enough reason to be passionate. It shouldn’t be about legacy or power or money. It should be about the people, the ones who can’t afford hundred-dollar lobsters because, in the end, without them there is no company.”
When I finished, they were all looking, with the exception of Hugh, who glared.
“That’s so sweet,” Portia laughed.
“I quite like it actually. Honey, you should speak to reporters like that,” Mrs. Sinclair added.
I shrugged. “Don’t mind me. I can say that, but I have no idea how to run a company.”
“Are you all right?” Dorian leaned in, his hand on the back of my chair. He had no idea how not all right I was right now.
“I’m fine. Excuse me, where is the restroom?” I grabbed my purse and stood, and Dorian stood as well, helping me get around my chair.
“Down the hall to the right.” Mrs. Sinclair pointed.
“Thank you.” I walked as fast as I could in that direction. When I opened the door, it was to a coat closet. I turned around to find Hugh right there.
“She always gets those doors confused, blame the pills.”
“Hugh…”
He placed his hand inside my dress and pushed me up against the fur coat, his other hand trying grab at my chest. “You know my name, you dirty little slut… It’s Zeus.”
I bit his hand.
“You little cunt.” He slapped me across the face. My lip cut against my teeth, and the blood pooled in my mouth.
He grabbed onto the side of my head, clenching a fist full of my hair.
“Do you want me to teach you another lesson? How much is Dorian paying for you? Is the kid real? Wait, don’t tell me he knocked up a whore years ago.”
“Let go of me, or I will scream.”
“Scream, and I will let them all know how you used to ride my cock like a champion. I won’t just stop there either. I will ruin Dorian Rhys-Gallagher, let the whole world know he pays for his women. I’m already screwed, but he’s going to be disgraced, like the rest of his fucking family. So scream, sweetheart. Scream like I’m inside you.” He grabbed my breast and gnawed on my shoulder.
Scrabbling inside my purse, I was finally able to pull out my revolver. “Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me.”
He backed away. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Want to try me?” I asked, aiming at his face. “If you’re dead, you can’t speak. I’ll tell them you assaulted me, which you did.”
“How do you assault a prostitute? I’m sorry, I have to pay before I touch, right? Meet me at the Rosewood Hotel, room 301, at midnight, or I will talk.”
I pulled back the hammer. “Five, four, three….”
After he left, I collapsed on the floor, gasping for air and wiping his saliva from my neck.
Breathe.
Breathe, Luella.
Goddamnit, don’t cry.
Stop shaking.
When the door opened again, I raised the gun and pointed, hands shaking, thinking he’d returned, but it was Dorian.
“Luella?” He squatted in front of me, his hands covering mine. “Let go.”
I shook my head. “He’s still out there.”
“Who?”
I wanted to say, but I couldn’t.
“Luella, who?”
“H-Hugh. He was a client. I-I only had him once, s-seven months ago…it was seven months ago… Some guys like it r-rough, but he broke t-three of my r-ribs and m-my arm. H-he wanted to hurt me. I’ve never been so s-scared in my life. That’s why I tried t-to walk away.”
“Let go of the gun.”
Again, I shook my head.
“He wanted me to come to him again. I can’t! But he threatened y-you so I-I have to.”
His hands left mine, and he caressed my cheeks. “You are never ever going to be anywhere near him again. I don’t care what he said to you. It was bullshit, and I will do everything I can to protect you and Alaric. Believe in me more than you are afraid of him, okay?”
I nodded, the gun falling from my hands.
He retrieved it, put the safety on, and dropped it in a pocket. “Go to the bathroom, I’ll stand outside while you clean up. Then we’re going home.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
“I’m sorry I messed up your night,” I said.
He held on to me tightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were in pain.”
DORIAN
It was her.
She was the only thing holding me back from killing him. I wanted to put a bullet in his chest, but right now I needed to get her home. When she came out of the bathroom, her makeup was fixed, and she smiled as brightly as if I hadn’t just seen her break down in the closet. This was why I couldn’t tell something was wrong.
Taking off my jacket, I placed it over her shoulders and took her hand. “Don’t let go.”
She squeezed. “I promise.”
I led her back to the dining room. Mr. Sinclair and Hugh were laughing at God fucking knew what, and it piss
ed me off to no end.
Do it for her.
“Mr. Sinclair, thank you for dinner, but we have to leave.”
“Really? You’ve given up kissing my ass already?”
A maid brought over a box of Cuban cigars.
“Our son isn’t feeling well, please excuse us. Mrs. Sinclair, thank you for inviting us into your lovely home.”
“Of course, dear. Please visit again.”
Not a chance in hell.
“I do hope we meet again very soon.” Hugh’s gaze drifted to Luella.
You fucking little prick.
We turned toward the door. “Thank you for coming,” the butler said.
I didn’t reply. My driver was already waiting, the door held open for us.
She was gripping my hand for dear life. It was only when the door closed that she took several deep breaths. I pulled her close, laying my cheek against her head. She was trembling.
“I have a fear of spiders,” I confessed.
“What?”
“I’m terrified of them. It’s horrible, and clowns—God, do I hate clowns. I went to the fair once with Russell and fell. There, in front of me, were these giant feet, and when I looked up, all I saw was a giant red mouth and scary eyes. I screamed my head off. I even had them banned from Rhys-Gallagher National after someone had a singing birthday card delivered.”
She laughed, and I felt relief. I wanted her to feel safe and comfortable again.
I hummed as we drove back, and she was so tired, she fell asleep even though the drive was short.
“Are we here?” she asked softly, not opening her eyes. I helped her out and carried her inside.
“Mr. Rhys-Gallagher.” Russell scowled at the expression on my face, but I shook my head, not wanting to speak of it.
“You’re back already.” Goldie paused, startled at seeing Luella in my arms.
“I’m not going after Sinclair Group,” I told her, moving toward the stairs.
“What?”
I took Luella to the one place I knew would make her feel better. Alaric’s room. When I put her on the bed, she opened her eyes, saw her son, and brushed his hair out of his eyes.