Never Let Me Go

by McAvoy, J. J. ;

  “No can do, sir, not under these conditions.” He got in anyway.

  Sometimes I wondered if he was this loyal because I paid him so well or if he actually cared. Either way, he deserved a raise.

  “I have a spare shirt you can change into, Mr. Washington,” Goldie added, scrolling through her phone.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “No problem,” she said to him before turning to me and handing me a copy of the statement she drew up. “We need our message to be clear and neither confirm nor deny anything.”

  “Why didn’t you simply release it?” I asked, taking the first actual piece of paper she gave me.

  “I wanted to double check it.”

  “If you aren’t confident in it, Goldie—”

  “It’s good. Just being meticulous.”

  We got out, and Rafael was already waiting. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Goddamnit. This was the last thing I fucking needed. “What could be worse than protestors throwing tomatoes at me and reporters asking if I’m a fucking pedophile?”

  “The police want to question you further,” he added, pointing to my office. “I have two detectives already waiting inside, and I have an intern with them.”

  Detectives? Really? I had to hand it to Sinclair—when he set the world on fire, he did it quickly and efficiently.

  I’m going to kill you, Sinclair.

  “Push back my meetings—”

  “They are canceled,” Rafael interrupted me to say. “They said they would get back to you after this ‘mishap’ has been taken care of.”

  I could read between the lines. My head was now under the guillotine and they weren’t coming to my defense. They still weren’t sure what this chaos meant so they wouldn't attack either. At least not publicly.

  “Fine,” I muttered, entering my office to find the detectives in my chairs. “Detectives, what can I help you with?”

  The first detective, who was young with buzz-cut blond hair, and the second, an older bald man with age spots, stood as I entered.

  The younger one spoke. “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, I’m Detective Kane and this is my partner, Detective James. I’m sure you are aware your name has been found on the client list—”

  “Yes, I’m aware. I’m also very busy, detectives, so once again, what can I help you with?” I leaned back into my chair.

  “Maybe you should call your lawyer?” Detective Kane replied a little smugly, like he was proud to know he had me in his crosshairs.

  “He’s very expensive. I only call him when I’m concerned.” I gestured to the chairs, inviting them to sit down again.

  “Okay then, we’ll get right to it,” Detective Kane said. “Have you ever paid for sex, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher?”

  “No.”

  They didn’t look convinced.

  “You said you were aware your name was on a list of clients belonging to the House of L, an escort service based here in New York City,” Detective Kane pressed. I realized the second detective wasn’t going to ask any questions. Instead, the old man watched me like a hawk.

  “I’ve already said I was aware my name was on the list, and I know what the House of L is.”

  “But you did not use their services?”

  “I did not.”

  “So why is your name on the list?”

  I shrugged. “I believe they call you detectives because it is your job to find out. Like I said, I’ve never paid for sex, so if there isn’t anything else, gentlemen, I would like to get back to work now.”

  “I’m finding this hard to believe, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher. Because, so far, all the names are checking out.”

  “Then my name will be checking out too, and you wouldn’t be in my office asking questions,” I reminded him.

  “We will be in touch, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher. I do hope we don’t have to tell you not to leave town,” the older detective said, rising.

  “I believe you told me anyway. But don’t worry. I’ll be here.” The moment they left, Goldie and Rafael came in. “Goldie, forget the statement.” Nothing I said would make this better, and I was not going to throw Luella’s name out for any reason.

  “Dorian—”

  “No. Why do I have to repeat things all of a sudden?” I snapped. She usually did everything without question.

  She crossed her arms, glaring at me. Rafael tried to take her arm, but she pulled away.

  “Goldie—”

  “The reason you have to repeat things is because I can’t understand you. You aren’t thinking clearly. Is she really so worth it? You always tell the truth, always, even when people don’t want to hear it, and you expect the truth from us. Just because you like her doesn’t mean you get to do this.”

  “Yes, it does,” I cut her off, rising. “This is my company, and if I want to burn it to the ground, I can, and I will. Whether my choices are smart or not, they are mine to make. I have been clear from the beginning. You are my assistant, not my wife or girlfriend. Whatever emotional meltdown you are having, either spit it out or get out of my face. I do not have any more room on my plate.”

  Her hand clenched. “Why her? I’ve been standing here for nine years. Why her?”

  “Because you’ve always liked me just the way I am, and I don’t,” I replied.

  She stared at me for a moment, tears in her eyes, but she held it in. “I’ll get back to work, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher.” She managed to walk out with her head held high. That was Goldie.

  “Don’t start with me, Rafael.” I crossed to the window to look down at the reporters and protestors still chanting. I had to give it to them, they sure knew how to capitalize on a bad situation.

  “I think it’s about time something was said. But I didn’t know you realized she had feelings for you.”

  “I’m not an idiot.” Well, most of the time.

  He joined me at the window. “Why did you let her continue working for you if you knew?”

  “She’s smart, and I needed her help taking over. Besides, she’s not in love with me, she doesn’t know me like she thinks she does. She's a good person, and I like her as a friend, like you.”

  “Where is the cranky, sharp-tongued, evil-eyed, demon butcher Mr. Rhys-Gallagher?”

  “And just like that, I regret calling you a friend,” I muttered, lifting the papers off my desk.

  “This will be over soon.”

  “Yes, the moment I figure out how to get rid of Sinclair.” I paused as he walked back out front. When he left, I leaned back, resting back into my seat. I just needed one damn second to think, only to be interrupted by his voice again as he buzzed in over the phone.

  “Dorian, there is someone on the line by the name of Eva Sotiropoulos who says she knows you and Luella.”

  Exactly what I needed this morning, the devil’s spawn. “Patch her through.”

  Dear God, I hope Lulu is having a much better day than I am.

  GOLDIE

  Breathe. Just breathe. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already know. Get it together, Goldie. Ugh, what the hell is wrong with me?

  “Ms. Tate?”

  “Just a second.” I lifted my glasses and wiped my eyes. Finnick’s suit jacket was gone, and his shirt was covered in rotten tomatoes. “Right, the shirt.”

  “Are you all right, Ms. Tate?”

  “Who, me?” I laughed awkwardly, opening the bottom drawer of my office desk. “I was just officially dumped by a guy I wasn’t even dating, so no, nothing is wrong. Here.” I handed him a clean shirt. “It should fit. I accidentally got the wrong size for Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, but it should be good for you.”

  “Thank you.” He took it from me and then looked me in the eye. “Any man who dumps you is insane. Thanks again for the shirt.”

  He left, and Rafael came into my office.

  “I have to go, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. From the looks of your makeup, I would say ‘no.’” He grimaced.

  I dug into my bag, pulling out a mirror. Of course, I had racc
oon eyes. My mascara and eyeliner had smeared everywhere.

  “Damn it. Can today get any worse?”

  Fuck you, Monday. Fuck you.

  LUELLA

  It was the grand opening of Hibiscus, the restaurant where I worked, and the place was packed by noon. Our boss apparently hadn’t expected this response, so not only were we understaffed, we were also missing the head chef, who had gotten the flu. It was great for me because it was my moment to shine. I felt sort of like a superhero.

  My boss, Jerry, hurried into the kitchen as I sprinkled onion powder on one dish. “God, I could kiss you right now, Lulu.”

  “This is insane,” I said and turned to the line chef. “Guys, I need ginger.”

  “Ginger,” said Kevin, who assisted and handed me a knob.

  I couldn’t help but smile. I was a damn chef. Well, at least an interim second chef.

  “Just keep the plates coming, it’s going to be a busy day,” Jerry said, fixing his jacket as he walked back out to the guests.

  “Lulu.” One of the dishwashers approached, shirtsleeves rolled up, holding up my cell phone. I didn’t even realize my phone wasn’t in my pocket. “They’ve called twice. Caller ID says it’s your son’s school.”

  Turning down the heat and wiping my hand, I took the phone as it rang again.

  “Hello, this is Luella Thorne.”

  “Ms. Thorne, this is Ms. Hudson, Alaric’s kindergarten teacher at Ford Academy.”

  “Yes, I know. Is everything all right?”

  “Sadly no, Alaric got into a fight and is currently in the principal’s office, but I think it would be better for him if you take him home.”

  “My Alaric? He doesn’t fight—”

  “Well, he did, he punched another student in the face, and because of that, he has been suspended for two days.”

  “What happened?”

  “Apparently Alaric believes that Dorian Rhys-Gallagher, of Rhys-Gallagher National, is his father—”

  “Alaric believes that because Dorian Rhys-Gallagher is his father,” I snapped, not liking how she said that.

  She paused for a moment. “Well, a student said something about Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, and that is why Alaric punched him, he says. Alaric won’t say he’s sorry, and he won’t calm down. Ms. Thorne, at Ford Academy we have a strict non-violence policy. If you could pick him up—”

  “I’m currently at work, can’t he just—”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Thorne, that is not possible, he is very upset and is causing a scene.” The longer she spoke, the more frustrated I felt, especially knowing full well Alaric was getting bullied.

  “I’ll find someone to pick him—”

  “Ms. Thorne, you know our policy, only those on the confirmed list can be allowed to take children home.”

  “For the love of God, fuc—” I took a deep breath. “Ms. Hudson, I understand many of your students come from rather wealthy families, and they don’t have to worry about their jobs, but I can’t—” I stopped talking. The only other person on Alaric’s confirmed list was Eva.

  “I’ll be right there, Ms. Hudson.”

  “I will—”

  I cut her off by hanging up.

  “I have two orders of French onion soup and a, uh, tartiflette. Did I say that right?” The waitress came in, placing the orders up for the other cooks to get.

  Shit, man!

  “I’m so sorry guys, something came up with my son,” I said, taking off my apron. “Tell Jerry I’m so sorry.”

  I had a feeling my remorse wasn’t going to be enough for him.

  DORIAN

  Finnick opened the back door of the car, and Eva stepped inside, one heel at a time. Her brown hair was pulled back, her small purse in hand, and large glasses covered her eyes. “You called, I came, now give me a reason not to hurt you.”

  “Use me to get back at my father,” she replied coldly.

  “What kind of game are you playing now? Get back at him? Part of me is sure it was you who leaked the list to him.”

  “That’s not true.” She took off her glasses. There was a purple bruise around her right eye. “He stole the list after seducing my mother. You doing anything will get in my way. I’ll take care of my family, and you worry about taking care of yours.”

  “I don’t trust you—”

  “I know you don’t. You have no reason to, but trust me anyway. I don’t want to complicate your lives any further. Your story, Luella’s and Alaric’s—I want it to be simple, light and happy. She deserves that. Luella and Alaric are the closest thing I’ve ever had to family.”

  “Is it the Sinclair family motto to hurt one’s family? Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  She gritted her teeth. “You don’t need to. But it’s the truth. In the beginning, I used her like everyone else, but over time, I came to care about them”

  “I feel no compassion for you, Ms. Sotiropoulos. You lied to her for years. Save your sob story for someone else.”

  “If I wanted your compassion, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, I would start off by explaining my life, but we’re not going down that road. I’ll be the villain in this story.” She put her glasses back on. “I’m sorry you’re being dragged through the mud, I can’t fix or undo all the damage I’ve done but at least let me help you.”

  “Have a good day Ms. Sotiropoulos,” I replied, nodding for her to step out.

  “If you change your mind.” She handed me her card before she stepped out gracefully. She seemed so much colder than before. Almost like she’d died and someone else was walking around impersonating her.

  “Should I go after her?” Finnick asked, stepping back into the car. I stared at the card in my hand.

  “Keep an eye on her but from a distance.” I didn’t trust her, but I did believe she had a bone to pick with her father. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with her yet.

  “Yes, sir,” he said. The drive back toward the office felt longer than normal, and in all honesty, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to go back to the Hamptons. Go back to right before all hell had broken loose. But at the same time, I knew that Sinclair wasn’t going to just let me do what I wished. He was the type of man that wanted everything and everyone under his belt. He was obsessed with the power it gave him.

  Even if we told the world the truth, it wouldn’t stop him nor would it end the rumors. Truth wasn’t always applauded and the only people who’d bare any shame would be Luella and Alaric.

  Ringgg.

  Taking out my phone, I smiled, the only time I felt like I could. “Tell me you are having a better day than I am.”

  “I saw the news. Are you okay?” she asked softly.

  “I’m fine. A little annoyed with everyone, but fine. Guess who wanted to see me today?”

  “Who?”

  “Eva.”

  She exhaled angrily and didn’t say anything.

  “Lulu?”

  “What did she do now? What is her problem? Why the hell won’t she leave us alone? I don’t understand it.”

  “I don’t think it’s just about you,” I said, stepping out of the car when Finnick pulled to a stop at the private doors inside the garage. “She might actually hold a grudge against her father.”

  “Or she could be a lying two-faced bitch.”

  I snickered. “Yeah, that’s a possibility too.”

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher!”

  I turned at the voice shouting my name only to see a wave of white powder, right before it hit my face.

  “STOP!” Finnick grabbed the guy and threw him onto the hood of the car, pinning him down before calling someone on his phone.

  “DORIAN?”

  I stood there frozen, completely covered in only God knew what the fuck, trying to stay calm. Trying being the key word in that sentence.

  “Dorian?”

  “I’ll call you back, Lulu.” I hung up quickly as I wiped my face.

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher!” Finnick called out to me as other s
ecurity came down stairs. “Take him! TAKE HIM! Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, we need to go to the hospital, get in!”

  “I’m fine!”

  “We don’t know what this is, I’m sorry, sir, but get in!” he hollered, already holding the car door open for me.

  Inside, I threw my phone and punished the fucking seat. “Godfuckingdamnit! Fucking piece of shit!”

  What the fuck was today? Why did it feel like Hell was open?

  Fuck!

  19

  What a Fate?

  DORIAN

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, I’m Dr. Delanoy. We ran some tests and luckily the white substance was Sodium Lauryl Sulfoacetate, like bath salts, and is not harmful—”

  “Thank you for your time, Doctor,” I said, buttoning up the new shirt Finnick had gotten for me to change into. I was more than ready to leave. The very last place I wanted to be was in a hospital. “As you can imagine, I’ll be needing your discretion.”

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, wait!”

  I paused, looking at the older man behind me. “For what?”

  “Have you had any feeling of heaviness in your scrotum? A dull ache in the abdomen or your groin?

  “No, I have not,” I answered, facing him completely. “And why would you be asking me that?”

  “Please sit down, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher. Is there any history of cancer in your family?”

  “No, there is not. And I’d rather stand,” I said, not sure what the hell was happening. No, I did, I could tell from the blank, yet calm expression he had on his face. However, I refused to believe what he was trying to say to me. “Are you trying to tell me I have cancer? Me? Dr. Delanoy, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I run and exercise four times a week, I eat so healthily it’s actually sad. There is no way in hell I have cancer.”