“I don’t know.” She shredded the tissue in her hand. “We both want such different things. He belongs in Stump River and I can’t go back.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lulu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You know, I remember my mother crying like this whenever one of her boyfriends would leave. I used to think she was being melodramatic or weak. Now I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.”
Roxi bit her lip and then made an admission. “I’ve never really loved anyone.”
“No?” Lulu looked at her, her damp lashes dark and spikey against her pale face. “Then why did I have to suffer through all that moping around after you broke up with someone?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I never really loved any of them. I mean I’ve liked guys, but I knew inside if I never saw them again, it was okay. Now food, that’s a totally different story. I love food!” She tried to inject some humour into the conversation.
Lulu gave a weak smile. “I’ve thought I was in love before and felt sad when the relationship ended, but I never let myself cry. I told myself I was strong and I wasn’t going to be like my mother and fall apart over a man. I guess I’m not so strong after all.”
“I don’t think it’s a question of strength. Opening yourself up to someone takes guts because you know there’s a chance you can get hurt. From the looks of you, it must be painful.”
“It is.” She looked down at the tissue she’d been shredding again. “Sometimes I wonder why she kept trying, knowing the odds of getting hurt again.”
“I suppose she must have really believed her true love was out there somewhere.”
“Yeah.” Lulu tipped her head back and looked upward. “You were a lot braver than I ever knew, Mom. You were always willing to share your heart and you never gave up looking.”
“Did she ever find her true love?”
“No.” Lulu shook her head. “She got sick one year and never recovered.”
“That’s sad.”
“Yep.”
They sat in silence for a while until Roxi’s stomach growled. It sounded exceptionally loud in the quiet room and both of them started to giggle.
“You didn’t have enough breakfast?”
“No.” Roxi made an exaggerated pouty face, pleased to see Lulu smile and wanting to keep her happy. “Todd—he’s this guy I met last night—didn’t have hardly anything in his kitchen. That’s how I know he won’t be a keeper. If a man is right for me, his fridge will be well stocked and so will his pants.”
Lulu laughed and then her stomach growled and they both dissolved into hysterics. When they finally sobered, Lulu got up and headed towards the kitchen.
“I’ll make us something to eat.”
“I can do it. You look like a disaster. Go take a shower and by the time you’re done I’ll have some pancakes whipped up for us.”
Lou let the hot water pound on her, hoping to wash away the evidence of her crying jag. She felt empty inside, exhausted, her muscles limp. Crying was supposed to be healing but right now she wasn’t so sure.
Turning off the water, she stepped out of the tub and began to dry off. The room was steamy and she wiped at the mirror, then peered closely trying to see her reflection. Her face was still blotchy, her scar seemed more noticeable and her eyes puffy. She looked awful. Did cucumber slices really work on puffy eyes?
She leaned back and put on her old glasses; at least they hid some of the puffiness even if they did leave the world blurry. Getting replacement lenses was a must, she couldn’t go around squinting at everything.
A wave of regret passed over her as she recalled Armand saying he’d help her pick out new frames. He really had hated the old ones. And he’d been right. She’d purposely picked the ugliest pair she could find wanting to be the antithesis of the person she’d been before the accident.
Was that why she didn’t want to go back to Stump River? Was it getting her degree that kept her here or was she afraid she’d become ‘good old Lucy’ again if she returned to the town? She wasn’t sure. However, she would pick nicer frames this time, maybe even look into getting contacts. Armand had said he’d always loved her eyes.
That thought threatened to bring on a new wave of sadness, so she quickly finished getting dressed and wandered out to the kitchen where the smell of pancakes and fresh coffee was emanating. She found a mug, filled it with the hot morning brew and took a sip.
“This is pretty good. How come you’ve never made me coffee before?”
“Don’t get used to it,” Roxi warned as she stacked pancakes on a plate. “This is an exclusive post-breakup meal.”
“Hey, I’ve made you a lot of post-breakup breakfasts.”
“You mean you’re already planning your next failed…” Roxi’s voice trailed off. “Sorry. That was meant to be funny.”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s okay. And don’t worry, I’m not going to do this again.”
“You’re signing off on men?”
“Maybe.” She stared down into her cup of coffee, the dark brown liquid reminding her of the colour of Armand’s eyes. “I can’t picture myself with anyone else.”
“What about Armand? Is he going to grow old pining away for you?”
The thought of him with another woman made her stomach roil but she tried to put on a brave face. “I told him he should try to find someone.”
“That was disgustingly noble of you.”
“Disgustingly noble?”
“Yep. When I break up with a guy, even if I didn’t love him, I hope his dick withers.”
She choked on her coffee.
Roxi helpfully thumped her on the back before setting two plates of pancakes on the table.
“Dig in.” Roxi shoved a large bite in her mouth and then talked between chewing. “You know, the best thing to do is to get right back on that horse and go out with someone else.”
“Isn’t that what I always tell you?”
“So, listen to your own advice.” She waved her fork about. “What about that Neil guy?”
“Neil?” There was no spark when she thought about him. In fact, she seriously doubted she’d ever feel a spark again. “No.”
“Well, keep him in mind. You never know.” She frowned, a forkful of pancakes partway to her mouth. “Hey, shouldn’t you have gone to work today?”
“Work? Oh crap!” She raced for the phone and punched in the number. It rang numerous times but no one answered. “They must be really short-handed.”
“Or closed. Think about it. You’re not there. Kathy’s not there. And Jeff probably didn’t go back. Who would have even been there to open the place?”
She hadn’t considered that. “Gin probably called poor old Mr. Henderson and he’d have to try to get a hold of Dylan, and by the time Dylan got there the breakfast rush would be done. What a mess!”
“Mr. Henderson is really old, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “He’s been talking about retiring, selling the business. This could be enough to push him into it.” The impact such a change might have on her life had her worrying her lip.
“Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now. Finish this amazing meal I made you and then either go down to the diner or call one of the other staff and get the scoop.”
“Right.” She sat down, her stomach uneasy. If the diner was sold, there was no guarantee she’d keep her job. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to afford the apartment or the tuition for her college courses. Things were tight as they were, and while she might qualify for an educational grant, would that be enough?
Maybe we should have taken Armand up on his offer.
No, she had her pride. There was a time when she was younger that she might have expected a man to take care of her but not anymore. She’d find a way to raise the money, no matter what. And maybe she wouldn’t lose her job, there was no point in assuming the worst, right? She’d head to the diner after breakfast and find out what was happening, the
n go to the optician. With that plan in mind, she finished her meal and prepared to set out.
“Roxi, where did you put my purse?” She looked around the apartment, peering under her bed, in the closet, beside the sofa.
“Your purse? It’s… Oh...” Roxi’s voice trailed off as she stood at the sink doing the dishes. “You asked me to keep an eye on it, didn’t you?”
“You forgot it?” She sighed. Ryne wouldn’t believe she needed yet another replacement ID.
“Well, with all the excitement, it slipped my mind.” Roxi grabbed a towel and dried her hands. “I’ll get right on the phone and call Pietro’s. I’m sure someone handed it in to the wait staff.”
“Or walked off with it.”
It turned out luck was on her side for once and her purse was waiting for her so she swung by to get it. Her phone, ID and cash were all as she’d left them, and she thanked the staff profusely. Upon checking her phone, she found a message saying the diner was closed for the next week while renovations were being done and everyone was on a paid vacation until further notice.
Paid vacation? That was an unexpected surprise. There’d been no rumours about repairs, not that they weren’t needed. Mr. Henderson had been letting things slide. She glanced down at her wrists; they still bore the marks of her attempts to free herself with the rough edge of the metal shelving. Maybe there was something to be said for things not being perfect.
With her purse tucked close to her side, she headed to the store where she’d purchased her glasses. There was a discount section and they promised same day service. Hopefully, in a few hours, she’d be able to see clearly again.
She took her time choosing the frames, imagining how Armand would react to each. She even went so far as to snap pictures of herself wearing a few of the contenders, thinking she’d send the images to him. His number wasn’t on her phone but she still had it memorized from when she lived in Stump River. Funny how some things stuck in your memory.
In the end, she didn’t forward the images, instead choosing a frame she felt suited her. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she decided Armand had been right; she’d spent her life hiding; first behind too much makeup and then going to the other extreme of downplaying her appearance. Neither had made her truly happy. Maybe it was time to just be herself and not worry what others thought. What she looked like had no impact on her abilities.
It crossed her mind that Armand would be pleased and she thought to call him but once again, she resisted the urge. It was better to make a clean break.
The rest of the day passed slowly. She headed home with her new glasses, only to poke about the apartment, unable to settle. Going to the centre to volunteer would have given her something to do yet she called in and cancelled, not wanting to face questions about Armand.
After straightening the items on her dresser and making the bed—an unduly slow task as her hands had lingered over the sheets Armand had slept on—she sat down at the computer thinking she’d check the news and see if there was any mention of last night’s events. Instead, she found herself on the airport’s website, trying to decide what flight Armand would be on, and what gate he’d be leaving from. It made no sense to torture herself that way, but she couldn’t help it.
Roxi peered over her shoulder. “Staring at the airport’s flight schedule won’t change anything.”
“I know. His flight leaves in ten minutes.” She swallowed, the lump in her throat feeling larger by the minute.
“Are you thinking you made the wrong decision?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. At the time it seemed right. The facts haven’t changed.” She forced herself to turn off the screen and stand up.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Thanks, but no.” She noticed Roxi was dressed up. “You’re going out with that guy from last night?”
“Yeah. I’m giving him another chance despite the fact he needs to buy groceries.”
She laughed. “Have fun.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to hang around?” Roxi hesitated in the doorway, concern marring her usually perky expression.
“No.” She forced herself to smile. “Go enjoy yourself. I can get through this on my own.”
Roxi gave her a doubtful look but finally agreed and left.
She looked at the clock. It was almost seven.
Wandering to the window, she stared up at the sky.
Thirty seconds.
Thirty seconds and Armand would be gone.
It was for the best. Their lives were going in different directions.
Fifteen seconds now.
Was the flight still on time? She didn’t dare look.
Ten, nine, eight… Tears blurred her eyes and she rested her head against the window frame.
Three, two, one… The numbers on the clock rolled over to seven. The zeros were like the hole in her heart.
Her breath made a moist area on the window pane and she drew a little heart in it, then watched as it quickly faded in the heat of the summer. Just like her time with Armand. Gone too fast.
She shifted her gaze to the sky where a contrail was appearing. Was it from his flight? There was no way of knowing but the pain in her chest had her believing it was. She pressed her hand to the window, wishing she could reach out and touch him one more time.
They wanted different things out of life, she reminded herself. Holding on to faint hope wasn’t fair to either of them.
The trail in the sky was disappearing almost as fast as it formed. Buffeted by the wind, the bits of white were scattered across the sea of blue until they dissipated into nothingness, only their memory remaining.
Maybe it was a sign. Relationships and contrails, neither were meant to last.
Her fingers curled into her palm and her arm dropped to her side. It was time to go.
“Good-bye, Armand,” she whispered into the sky. “I’ll always love you.”
Armand sat in his seat, staring at his phone. He’d delayed getting on the flight until the last possible minute, hoping Lucy would appear at the airport or that she’d call saying she’d changed her mind. But she hadn’t called, and he didn’t try to contact her either.
If he tried hard enough, he could probably convince her to come with him but in the end, she’d resent him. It had to be what she wanted. He thought of his own life, how he’d drifted from place to place trying different jobs, searching for where he belonged. Lucy deserved that same opportunity, even if it felt like he was losing part of himself. His happiness couldn’t come at the expense of hers. It had to be what they both wanted. A shifter and a human both needed to be committed to the relationship if it was to work. The burden of the secret couldn’t be assumed lightly.
“Sir, your phone?” The flight attendant came by and gave a meaningful glance at the device in his hand.
“It’s in airplane mode.”
She smiled and moved on.
He sighed and put the phone away. It made no sense to stare at a blank screen waiting for a message that would never come. Leaning his head against the window, he stared down at the city that was rapidly disappearing from sight.
“Au revoir, Lucy. Be happy.”
Chapter 23
“This is a bogus thumb drive as well?” Fielding looked at the item in his hand and then tossed it onto his desk along side the other one that lay there.
“Yep. Those are the ones Agent Tinley handed in. He said Soldoti, one of our undercover operatives, gave them to him. One supposedly had the real codes and the other was fake.” Brad Owens shook his head. “When I checked, they were both dummies.”
“So what does that mean? A real set of codes could still be out there? Or there never was a set of real codes on the second thumb drive?” Fielding tapped his desk impatiently. “Or that bear, Armand St. John, did a sleight of hand and kept them?”
“I’ve been led to believe he was reliable.”
“That’s what I was told, too.” He considered the situation, t
hen looked up and pinned Owens with a hard stare. “This hacker you work with, how trustworthy is he?”
“Daniel? Very. I’ve used him numerous times to test systems.”
Fielding made a mental note to run his own background check on the hacker. And the bear too, for that matter. It was getting to the point that no one was above scrutiny. “Any idea where the leak originated? Was it someone hacking into the system?”
“None of my alarms have been triggered.”
“Which means an internal leak. One of our own is selling us out.” He shook his head at the thought that those charged with keeping Lycan society functioning and safe would purposely undermine all they’d worked for.
“It looks that way. They likely gathered the codes over a period of several weeks so there was no mass download of data to raise suspicions.”
“Regardless, we’re replacing every single code, PIN and key in Lycan Link right down to the closet for the toilet paper.”
“My team is on it,” Brad assured him. “I have them working overtime.”
“You damned well better have them working around the bloody clock! I want daily updates so I know what areas remain vulnerable!” He stood up and glared down at the man.
There was a creaking sound as Owens shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Fielding held back a smile. He liked to keep people on their toes.
“Yes, sir. Was there anything else, sir?”
“No. You’re dismissed.”
He remained standing until Owens left then sat down and scanned the report that was on his desk. Jeffrey Tinley had been thoroughly duped. The half-coyote had been recruited to work undercover but his training had been rushed and it showed. Of course, the one who had duped him was the best.
There was no Soldoti on Lycan Link’s database. The name Dante however raised all sorts of alarms.
Dante Esparza, Dante Salvatore… Whatever he chose to call himself, he was still on their wanted list, or at least he was until the higher ups decided to turn a blind eye and hire the bastard for black ops.
Leaning back in his chair, he steepled his fingers and considered the situation. It didn’t sit well with him having the lines between friend and enemy blurred like that. What was Dante up to? How had he discovered the codes were out there and why did he want them? And had he been successful and kept them for himself or had the bear duped him?
Veil of Lies Page 25