by Maya Hughes
The knocks on my door were so much more ominous after Allan died. I had only been allowed back in a week ago. Finger print dust and other police remnants had been wiped away by the cleaning crew I had come in, but that hadn’t done much to make it feel like anything more than it was. A crime scene.
I looked through the peephole and relaxed a little. I opened the door and Frankie came barreling in. She pushed right past me and went straight to the fridge. I glanced around the apartment. Once the cleaning crew left I hadn’t really taken care of the place. Old take out containers and clothes were strewn everywhere.
She closed my fridge door.
“Your place is starting to look like the dorms back in high school,” she said, leaning against the fridge. “I warned you, Killian.” The disappointment in her eyes was only another dagger to my heart. “I warned you what would happen if you went down this path.”
“You didn’t have to agree. You could have told me no,” I said, walking over to the bar, glancing at the empty shelves. I’d destroyed it all.
“And what would have happened if I told you ‘no’?”
“I’d have found another way.”
“Exactly. I figured it was better for me to get the information than for you to go off threatening and manipulating who knows who to get what you wanted.” I winced at her accurate assessment of what I would have done.”
“Why are you even friends with me, Frankie?” I asked, shaking my head. I was a fucking mess.
“You were the only person in high school who didn’t want anything from me,” she said, standing in front of me, holding my gaze and not letting me look away. “You were the only person who didn’t give a crap where I came from and who my parents were. I was Frankie and that was it. I’d never met anyone like you. Your drive and determination isn’t something I’ve seen very often. But it’s a double-edged sword.”
“Sliced me right in half,” I said under my breath. She reached across the bar and put her hands on my balled-up fists.
“You’re not a bad person, Killian.” I scoffed. “You’re not. Don’t make me have someone tie you up in a dungeon until you agree. You’re not a bad person, but you’re pretty fucked up.” She squeezed my hands. “But who isn’t, right?”
“You’re not fucked up,” I said, putting one of my hands over hers.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she said, shrugging. “So how are you going to fix this?”
“I don’t even know where to start.” I ran my fingers through my hair.
“You probably start by taking a shower. You stink,” she said, fanning her hand in front of her nose.
“Thanks, Frankie.”
“You’re welcome, Kill. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Think of what you need to do to be the kind of guy she would want to come back to.”
I racked my brain to even think of where to start. To change everything about who I was and how I ran my business. How I lived my life, but for her I’d do it. I’d do whatever it took. Frankie slammed her hands down on the bar.
“My work here is done. I take it I can give up your room at the club? I’ve had some inquiries.”
I thought back to where it all started. The first time I put my hands on her. The first time I tasted her and felt her. A small part of me wanted to hold onto it for the memories, but I knew I didn’t want to walk back in there, green band or not. Not without her.
“Yeah, you can give my room to whoever’s on the list.”
She put her coat back on and opened the door. Grim stood there, hand up like he was about to knock.
“John,” she said, coolly.
“Francesca,” he said back, but with a lot less venom than she had. “A pleasure to see you.”
Frankie scrunched her eyebrows down as she stared at him. Probably trying to figure out if he was being sincere. The two of them needed to screw and get it over with already.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, gripping the strap on her bag even tighter. Move. Please,” she said, not waiting for his reply and brushing past him.
Grim moved out of the way and leaned out the doorway watching her leave. I ran my hands through my hair. The door slammed shut and Grim’s heavy footfalls landed as he got closer to me.
I need to make a change. I need to do things right.
“Hey, Grim, how do you feel about a new job?”
He quirked his eyebrow at me.
“I’m listening.”
32
RACHEL
“We have the flower arrangements ready. The caterers are here now. How many items did you want displayed on the stage at once, Ms. Halston?”
I stared off into space. So many details. I’d made fun of my mom so many times over the years about all the things she fretted over for these things.
“Ms. Halston.” I jumped. She meant me.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“How many items do you want on the stage during the auction?”
I glanced over at my mom. A frown marred her face and she unfolded her arms from across her chest.
“It’s your show, dear,” she said, standing and abandoning me. Thanks, Mom.
“One at a time will work,” I said, keeping my smile plastered on my face.
“Perfect,” the planner said, speaking into her lapel mic and making a note on her tablet.
The headline in the papers that morning made me want to crawl into a hole and die. Rhys Thayer steps down. World’s biggest philanthropist leaves it all behind.
Killian got to him. He did whatever he needed to do and dethroned Rhys like he’d planned. And I’d been an accessory to that. The guilt burned brighter than the anger.
It was over. There was nothing more I could do other than try to follow in my mom’s footsteps and do good the way she did. Maybe I should stick to what I know. Stick to the safety and familiarity of my old life. I’d been stupid to try to forget this place. Things were great. Just like old times. Just like before. Just like New York never happened.
KILLIAN
A line of town cars and limos lined the street up to the museum where the gala was being held. Most were heading in the opposite direction. My flight had been delayed, which meant even more time on the plane. I had to take a shower in the airport lounge because I’d sweat through my clothes. I thought back to the last time I was on a plane. Rachel had done a great job of keeping me occupied. The hour and a half flight seemed to pass in the blink of an eye when I was touching her and tasting her.
When the invitation arrived in the mail, I didn’t know what to think about it. The business card flew out and slid out onto the floor. I picked it up. It was for a tattoo shop. Dahlia’s shop. My heart raced as I turned the card over. It had three words hastily scrawled on it. Be there, Asshole.
Waiting for the day was torture and now I was late. My invitation tucked into my suit pocket, I got out of the car and walked up the wide stone steps to the museum entrance.
There were squadrons of party people there, earpieces in and chattering to one another. I entered the museum, and pop-orchestra music filled the room, along with hundreds of well-dressed people. The woman at the entryway checked my invitation and I was ushered in. I always felt so out of place at these things. While my suits were custom made, they never seemed to fit properly and I felt like a bull in a china shop, trying not to bowl anyone over. There was a receiving line, which was odd. But I didn’t know how they typically did things in Chicago.
There weren’t that many people in front of me, so I stood tapping the invitation against my palm. My eyes peeled for her. That had to be why Dahlia sent me to this place. A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and I picked up one of the flutes and downed half the glass, trying to quell my nerves. The bubbles stung my nose. I hung back, waiting for my turn. There was no one else behind me.
The line of people in front of me parted and the champagne glass dropped out of my hand onto the coral carpet runner they’d brought into the event. It was her.
Rachel stood in f
ront of me, finishing off her conversation with the people who’d been in line ahead of me.
There was another woman beside her, an older woman, but my attention was completely focused on Rachel. She was gorgeous. My heart thundered and I was a little lightheaded. Just as beautiful as I remembered, even more. I’d looked for her for so long and here she was in the flesh. Right in front of me. My chest tightened and it was hard to breathe.
Her hair was up on top of her head in an intricate set of braids and twists with a few wisps trailing down, framing her face. The body she’d always hidden under her work clothes was on full display. Her dress hugged all her curves, curves I’d memorized. She was mouthwatering. Someone rushed over to clean up the mess of my glass and it caught her attention.
She turned her head in my direction and her face paled. I don’t know what reaction I expected, but it wasn’t the look of abject terror. I took a step forward and she took a step back, bumping into the woman beside her.
“Rachel, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The woman held her hand up to Rachel’s forehead. “Are you coming down with something?” Rachel shook her head. The other woman noticed me standing there and extended her hand.
“Hello, welcome. I’m Michelle Darren-Halston, so lovely of you to join us, Mr…” I shook her hand, unable to form words. Rachel Darren was Rachel Halston. I’d seen her name on the invitation. How stupid was I not to put that together?
“Killian Thorne,” Rachel said, without taking her eyes from mine. The woman, I can only assume was her mother, whipped back and forth between us, probably trying to figure out what was happening. I was too.
“Mr. Thorne,” her mother said, taking my hand in hers. “Welcome and we’re so happy you could be here to join us. We have the silent auction going on and then the live auction a little later. At the table downstairs, you’ll be able to get your paddle with your number on it for bidding.”
“Rachel, would you like to show him? I’ll pick up any stragglers.”
Rachel’s head whipped around and she shook it vigorously.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got it.” Her mother pushed her toward me. Rachel stumbled and I caught her in my arms. Her big brown eyes looked up at me. No glasses now and it seemed she was still as unsteady on her feet in these heels as she had been before. She righted herself quickly and smoothed down the front of her dress. The navy dress shimmered under the light of the museum.
“It’s been a long time, Rachel,” I said into her ear. She shivered and a small smile spread on my lips. It was good to see that I hadn’t lost my touch. She’d run from me before, but I wasn’t going to let her get away this time. I was so close and I couldn’t wait to be with her again. I wasn’t the man she remembered and I was more than willing to prove that to her.
33
RACHEL
I didn’t know it was possible to drown standing in a room full of air. That was what I felt like the minute I turned around and Killian was there. In all his suit-stretching glory, Killian Thorne, stood in front of me like I’d willed him into existence. I couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t anything I could do, except stand and stare.
When my mother shunted me off with him, I wanted nothing more than to hike up the skirt of my dress and make a break for it. Racing and running out of the gala to get as far away from him as I could. But I knew I’d probably break both my ankles.
I stumbled and he caught me and it was all I could do not to bolt because the minute he laid his hands on me, it was like I was engulfed in flames. My skin tingled and buzzed where his hands were on me. It was just like old times, except it was nothing like old times. Everything was completely different now.
I righted myself and smoothed out my dress. Trying to pretend that I wasn’t affected by his presence, although it was like I was learning to walk again as I walked down the stairs to the main floor. His hand slid around my elbow to steady me.
“Rachel Halston, huh?” Killian asked and I cringed.
“Yes.”
“No wonder I couldn’t find you.” His thumb traced along the crease in my arm.
“Couldn’t find me?” His eyes were wide and he looked at me like I had two heads.
“When you ran out on me. When you left the city without so much as a goodbye four months ago.”
“I did say goodbye, Killian. I said goodbye that night in your apartment. I thought it was pretty clear that it was the end.”
“You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he said, his grip tightening on my elbow.
“Rachel, it’s such a wonderful evening,” “We’re having so much fun,” “Beautiful décor.” The comments were volleyed at me as I weaved my way through the crowd, Killian right there beside me.
“I thought we said everything we needed to say that night. I didn’t think there was anything else.”
“There’s always more when it comes to us,” he said, walking me to a quiet alcove away from the crowd.
“Killian, you destroyed my life. You decimated everything I’d built in the city. What was I supposed to do? Sit at home and wait for you to decide you weren’t going to be a horrible asshole anymore and come and get me? And then what? I didn’t have a job. There was no one who’d hire me in the city.” The old anger I thought I’d put behind me welled up. In the flesh, Killian was just as infuriating as he was before.
“From all this, it doesn’t look like you even needed a job. What were you doing in New York in the first place? Playing peasant?”
“I was working. Trying to build a life for myself. A real life.”
“Built on lies?”
“You’re one to talk, Killian. I worked hard to make something of myself and you managed to rip it all away from me.” My voice carried and a few people turned their heads. I wouldn’t let him destroy what I’d built for myself here. I grabbed his elbow and pulled him down an empty hallway.
“I never meant for things to end up the way they did, Rachel.” He actually looked remorseful. But so much of what I wanted to say to him before was right there in the front of my mind.
“You were so hell-bent on destroying Rhys, that you didn’t even think of the other people it would hurt. And you got your way. He’s out, right?”
“I had nothing to do with him leaving. I stopped myself.” I scoffed. “No, listen. After you left, I found out that he hadn’t lived much of a charmed life either. And my obsession,” he said, glancing up at me almost sheepishly. “Obsession put Esme at risk as well as being built on lies and half truths.” Esme? My eyes got wide and my throat went dry, my muscles tensing. I’d put Esme at risk by not stopping him
“She’s fine. They are both fine.” I eyed him warily, but some of the fire of my anger ebbed away as he glanced up at me. The old Killian looked like he’d been replaced by someone else. Could this Killian be trusted?
“I came to your apartment every day for at least a month.”
“Why? What did you think was going to happen?”
“I thought maybe I could ask for your forgiveness. Maybe we could start over.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Killian, it’s that no one ever gets to start over. You might think you have. You might think you’re well on your way to being a different person, but your past always has a way of catching up with you.”
“Rachel, there you are.” Saved by my mother. She breezed down the hall, her gown flowing behind her. “We’re about to start the auction. Mr. Thorne, you should be sure to pick up your paddle before it begins,” my mom said, most unhelpfully over my shoulder. I glanced at Killian before he disappeared down the dark hallway. I didn’t know what to do about him.
KILLIAN
She was up on stage beside her mother. The auctioneer went through a list of every item up for bid and none of them interested me, except one.
“For two private tours of the new Grecian collection with Ms. Rachel Halston, we will start the bidding at $1,000. This is an exclusive collection that will only be in
the city for one week and it will be mobbed. A chance to view it in private is certainly a once in a lifetime experience and Ms. Halston will be able to give you the history of each piece,” he said, like he actually had to sell an evening with Rachel to anyone.
The paddles lifted from every corner of the room as men vied for an evening with Rachel. They didn’t know it yet, but they’d all already lost.
The paddles lifted as the bids increased. My blood boiled as I thought of someone else winning an evening of her time. She shouldn’t even be up there, like she was on the auction block. I lifted my paddle. My bid was ten times the next highest bid. The entire audience gasped and people clapped. The auctioneer called out for more bids, but no one else raised their paddles. She glared at me from the stage.
“Thank you so much for that generous bid, Mr…”
“Thorne,” I said, as I weaved my way through the tables in front of the stage.
“Mr. Thorne. Thank you so much for that generous bid. A round of applause for him.” The audience let out a deafening round of applause. “When would you like to take your first tour, Mr. Thorne?”
“Right now,” I said, my eyes locked onto Rachel’s. Her skin looked flushed and her hands were fisted at her sides. She was pissed and she was gloriously beautiful when she was angry. I stepped up onto the stage and put my hand on the small of her back. She plastered a smile on her face and hustled off the side of the stage, before whipping around to confront me once we were out of the eye line of everyone at the gala.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She pointed her finger at me. Her breathing was heavy and her cheeks even pinker than before. It wasn’t blush this time.
“We weren’t finished with our conversation,” I said, stalking closer.