by R. J. Scott
“Tell me it was just the drugs, that someone recognized Lennox and saw him go in our house and killed him there, that it was nothing to do with me.”
“I doubt it was anything to do with you. The guy is a dealer—”
Lucien’s small noise of distress stopped Max in his tracks. “I didn’t know. Not really, I mean, I knew Jamie took prescription drugs, but I didn’t think about how he had a dealer, didn’t know it was that bad. I’m so fucking stupid.”
Max’s phone vibrated with a text from Ross and an address appeared. He entered the information into the map application and noted the place, St. Mellon’s Hotel, was little more than ten or so miles from where they were.
Lucien sighed noisily. “What will happen to Jamie?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s a user who needs help, but he was with friends and has an alibi. Depends if he did any dealing for money.”
“I know you called me naïve, but I won’t let him get lost in the system,” Lucien promised.
Guilt flooded Max. Yes he’d called Lucien naïve, but he hadn’t meant it to sound so definite. The innocence that Lucien had about him was exactly what Max was growing to love about him. “We’ll find out more in the morning.”
The drive to the hotel was yet another quiet period. Max was as lost in his own thoughts as Lucien. His first thoughts when he saw Lennox was that the man was dead. He’d dispassionately assessed and felt nothing to see him lying there. He would probably have felt something if Jamie had been lying there instead since Jamie meant something to Lucien. Curse his protective gene, but he didn’t want Lucien to have bad things in his life. Ever.
They parked at the hotel and carried their own bags to reception. Lucien hung a little farther back and Max did all the talking. The foyer of the hotel was small but resplendent with marble and polished wood. A quiet air of respectability and hushed voices had Max feeling like a fish out of water, but he’d do anything to keep Lucien safe.
Ross had booked two adjoining rooms, and when they went into the first room Max saw the connecting door between the two.
“BI may as well cancel the second one,” Lucien said. He slumped onto the bed and rested his elbows on his legs, his hands loose between his knees. Max recognized the same blank-eyed shock that Lucien had shown when they’d found Kev face-down in the pool.
“I’ll get on that,” Max said. He was reassuring Lucien that he could handle the small details in the vain hope that it helped.
Lucien’s voice was small in the high-ceilinged room. “Was it me?”
Max stilled in his examination of the window. They were on the second floor but close to the fire escape. The window faced the large landscaped gardens, and they were pretty much on top of the portico that sheltered the front entrance. Not perfect, but as good as it could be.
“What do you mean?”
“Lennox. Did someone kill him because he was connected to me?”
“You had no connection to Lennox.”
“I did to Jamie.”
“But it isn’t Jamie who is dead. Jamie is fine.” Max moved to crouch in front of Lucien. Fear shadowed the prince’s dark eyes, and then Max spotted what was in his hand. An envelope. Fuck.
“My bedroom,” Lucien whispered. “It was on my bed.”
Max held out a hand. He didn’t want to say that Lucien should have given it to him at the house so he could have considered passing to the police. There might be a connection, but possibly whoever was doing this to Lucien just took advantage of a broken front door. Coincidence maybe, but anything was possible.
Lucien handed it over to Max, who carefully opened it. As usual, it wasn’t sealed, the typing on the front looked the same, the weight of the paper was thin, the same as the others. When Max read the words, his blood froze.
I won’t have it. He put you in danger. He won’t go near you again.
The words were damning, and Lucien’s moan of despair was loud in the quiet room. This was the confession of a murderer.
“This is a break in his pattern,” Max said. He pushed the paper back into the envelope and stood. He’d need to get this to the police, and BI would have to liaise with who he really was and why he was here and lay the whole thing with the law. He’d been hoping to avoid that one and somehow not have Lucien appear at the station tomorrow. He hadn’t figured out how, but he’d been hoping Ross would come up with a way around it all.
Instead he was left with shit he wasn’t sure how to get away from.
“What pattern?” Lucien asked. “If it’s the same person who killed Oscar Sheiver back home, then isn’t this the same thing, he thought I was being threatened and he decided to remove the problem?”
“I didn’t mean that, I meant the notes themselves. The other two were posted or left outside the house; this is far more personal. Whoever this was went into the house, took every kind of risk placing this on your bed. Did they do that before they killed Lennox? Did whoever your stalker is actually kill Lennox? Or did the stalker just take advantage of the door already being broken?”
“What?” Lucien said. He looked stunned. “What two?” His tone was firmer, more pointed.
Max was confused for a moment. “Two?”
“You said the other two were pushed through the door. Letters to the house? New ones you knew about but decided not to tell me?”
Max straightened his back. “You didn’t need to know.”
“Did they threaten Kev? Or Jamie?”
“No.”
“What did they say?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Max attempted to cut this off at the root, but even as he knew he said it, he was more than aware that Lucien wasn’t going to leave this. Added to which, he could hear his voice becoming more clipped and tight with anger.
“Tell. Me.”
“The first just said welcome home, the second wished you luck at the swim meet.”
“That’s all?”
“There was something else.”
Lucien stood and balled his hands into fists at his sides. “And?”
“The second note, whoever wrote it said they’d be thinking about you.”
“I thought you worked for me,” he said. Ice dripped from every word. He was angry and he had pulled that mask of civility tight down over it. He had every right to be angry, but Max was not backing down now.
Max winced. “I do—”
“Then clearly you need to reassess your priorities.”
Max pressed a hand to Lucien’s chest. “It’s my job to protect you.”
Lucien pushed his hand away and picked up his bag. “In future I will be apprised of all things pertaining to this case.”
Max stepped back and away. Gone was the lover, in his place was someone who was in shock and who thought he’d really been fucked over.
“I’ll be next door.” Lucien opened the connecting door and made to close it behind himself, but Max beat him to it.
“Don’t lock this door,” Max warned.
Lucien stared at him, his expression furious. “Step back, Max.”
If anything, that made Max more intent. “I didn’t need to fuck your life by telling you about the letters. If you want to act like a child, then you get your own room but you keep the main entrance door locked and you don’t lock this door.”
Lucien closed his eyes briefly, then taking Max off guard, he shoved hard and slammed the door in Max’s face.
For a moment Max tensed to react, but when he didn’t hear a key being turned in the lock, he had to trust that Lucien was listening to what he’d said even in the depths of temper.
I have to keep Lucien safe.
Rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension that resided there, he crossed to his phone. The police needed the letter, BI needed to liaise.
He had a job to do.
Chapter 13
Max watched Lucien at the Police Station reception. They’d done their witness statements and were told they were free to go. Not back to the
house, that was still off limits, but they always had the hotel. Reading week meant Lucien had a few days off and they could always make use of the rooms back at BI. Lucien had been very quiet at breakfast, but they had at least talked a little bit. If anything, Lucien was lost in his own world, but he didn’t still seem angry or pissed about the letters. He said something in the car about them talking later and Max had to settle for that.
Lucien made animated shapes with his hands as he talked to the sergeant who in turn watched him with a bemused expression on his face. Finally the sergeant looked to give in or give up, Max wasn’t sure from this distance. But when Jamie appeared from a side room looking pale and shaky, Max sat upright. What the fuck? Why hadn’t they dumped his ass in a hospital or something?
“He’s coming with us,” Lucien announced. His expression was fixed, there was no room for maneuvering in those eyes. Lucien had decided what was happening next and that apparently included Jamie.
“Lucien—”
“We need to get him somewhere where he can get well. I’ve taken full responsibility.”
“Luke, you can just leave me here,” Jamie said. Max agreed with the statement, but he and Jamie were apparently up against a brick wall of stubbornness.
“I’m not fucking arguing,” Lucien snapped. The curse word coming from Lucien underscored exactly how he was feeling: pissed, firm, and way out of his comfort zone.
Max made a decision. “We’ll all go to BI.”
“I need to find—”
“BI will know somewhere.”
Jamie looked uncertainly from Max to Lucien. “Who’s BI?”
Max sighed. “We’ll explain in the car.”
The clarification went fairly well, and Jamie was quiet for the longest time. Then when he’d processed, he was like a dog with a bone.
“Luke, you’re really a prince? Like, a real-life prince?” he said. Max glanced in the mirror and saw Jamie’s expression, a little shocked, a whole lot curious.
“Yes, but, not… Look… it doesn’t change anything,” Lucien said.
“And your real name is Lucien, not Luke.”
“My brother used to call me Luke.”
Max drove steadily towards BI, and Lucien and Jamie talked for a while until Jamie went quiet. Max watched the young man carefully and wondered when he’d last had any kind of meds.
“Four hours,” Jamie answered the unspoken question. Then he held up a box and waved it. “Empty, see?”
Max didn’t want to have to think about how long it took for the drugs to leave his system and he hoped to hell they reached BI and could get Jamie some kind of place to get help soon.
When they drove up the wide gravel driveway to the manor, it was Jamie who sat bolt upright in the back with a look of astonishment on his face. Lucien had already been here and Max was immune to the beauty of the old pile, but to a newbie it probably looked very impressive.
“What is this place?”
“The owner is a guy called Kyle,” Lucien explained. “He inherited the place and set up Bodyguards Inc.”
“It’s like freaking Downton Abbey,” Jamie said.
Max didn’t point out it was nothing like that; instead he parked in the visitor parking and turned off the engine. Lucien was out first, Jamie close behind, and Max was left to lock the car and wonder what the hell he’d gotten into.
Lucien is a client. A client. I need to remember that.
In the past day they’d argued and it was uncomfortable, and Max had no idea how to get back to that place where he’d felt he was falling in love. Who am I kidding? I fucked up.
He followed the other two into the offices and caught the tail end of a conversation between Lucien and Ross.
“We have several facilities in our records that have good reputations. Do you want me to make some calls?”
Jamie sat at the long conference table in the main office looking overwhelmed.
“He’s like a different person,” Jamie said. Max realized Jamie was talking to him.
“Sorry?”
“He’s taking charge and not letting me think. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always been so quiet.”
Max took the seat next to Jamie. “He’s exactly what you need.”
Jamie steepled his hands and rested his chin on them. “And what you need too. He likes you a lot.”
Max huffed a laugh. “That’s blatantly not true at the moment.”
“So you pissed him off, I get that, and yes I am perceptive. I know there’s tension between the two of you. But, shit, you look good together. Look at him, he keeps checking where you are in the room.”
Max glanced over to where Lucien was talking to Ross, but Lucien very obviously had his back to both Max and Jamie.
“Yeah, right.”
Jamie continued. “And, let’s face it, he leans into you whenever he’s anxious or upset.”
“I’m his bodyguard, of course he does.”
“You are so blind. Whatever you two are, whatever you pretend to be for everyone else, remember I’ve seen you together. Seriously, he’s in love with you, and from the way you keep looking at him, I bet you feel the same way.”
“I think the drugs have rotted your mind.” Max considered he might have stepped over the mark with that, but all Jamie did was throw back his head and laugh.
“Talking of being his bodyguard, what are you? Twenty-three or something?” Jamie teased. “And you’re kind of on the short side.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” Max said with his usual long-suffering sigh.
Jamie peered at him. “I wish I had your bone structure,” he said.
Lucien arrived at the table and Max was happy for the interruption. He slid in to the chair opposite Jamie.
“You want to do this?” he asked Jamie. “Ross can get you in. It’s a good place, the one he’s shortlisted.”
“Of course I don’t want to do this,” Jamie answered immediately. “What addict actually wants to start the shakes and the sickness and all the other exciting things you get with withdrawal?”
“You’re here, I think you’re ready,” Max said.
“Max will take you,” Lucien said. “And I’ll go as well.”
Max looked up sharply. “After I’ve briefed Ross about what happened at the house.”
“Agreed.”
* * * * *
The debrief took all of half an hour, which Lucien spent watching Max, or rather watching his rear, the way his blond hair was ruthlessly short at the nape of his neck, the muscles in his back, and the way the jacket he wore stretched across his broad shoulders. Lucien saw the skin that he’d kissed, the texture of his hair, and he nearly doubled over with the pain of everything that was happening to him. He loved Max and he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to let the man go when this was all over.
“You have it so bad,” Jamie said. He looked tired and was probably due another dose of those meds that ruled his life.
“What?”
“Max, the bodyguard, your man there. You have it bad for him.”
Lucien sighed. Yes, he had it bad for Max, which is why it was so hard to keep that client/bodyguard relationship clear-cut. Finding out that Max had kept secrets screwed with Lucien’s head. His family had kept secrets from him, his parents’ advisors, friends, no one was honest with him. Max keeping the existence of letters from him was hard to swallow.
Of course the rational side of him knew damn well Max had his reasons. Keeping Lucien safe was a full-time job, and Max took it very seriously. But the lover side felt wrong somehow, like things weren’t fitting together properly.
“I like him a lot.”
“What’s not to like, he’s sexy, hot, blond, and those blue eyes are to die for. If only he had boobs and was called Maxine, I’d have my tongue hanging out.”
“Ready to go?” Max asked. He stalked out of the office, and Lucien and Jamie jumped up and followed.
The drive to the place where Jamie would be safe was qui
et. Jamie looked paler by the minute, and when Lucien glanced at him as they got out of the car, his hands were shaking.
“I can’t do this,” Jamie said.
They stood outside another imposing building, this one newer but softened with ivy and landscaped gardens. There was a wall, a gate, but there was nothing to indicate this was anything other than someone’s home.
“You can.” Lucien grasped Jamie’s shaking hand. “Come on. Let’s go see.”
Leaving Jamie was one of the hardest things Lucien had ever done. He’d gone quietly, ridiculously thankful that Lucien was covering the costs of the stay but equally furious that Lucien was leaving him.
“He’ll be okay, right?” Lucien asked.
Max glanced at him from the driver’s seat, then immediately looked back at the road. “He’ll be okay or he won’t,” he said. “Not everyone takes to rehab straight away, but Jamie’s a good kid. He got through his A Levels, got through two years of uni, he’s got enormous potential.”
“You see that too?”
Max worried his lip with his teeth and said nothing. Then he indicated and pulled over into a small layby sheltered with trees. He killed the engine and turned in his seat.
“I see him through your eyes,” he said. He was speaking softly, almost cautiously. “If you think he’s going to be okay, if you see something in him, then I see the same thing.”
Lucien digested the information. He searched for the anger he’d harbored for Max but came up empty. Somehow all the shit that they were going through meant nothing. “Why?”
Max shrugged. “I’m not sure I have it fully figured out. But I do know one thing. I love you.”
Lucien heard the words, but for a few seconds they didn’t sink in. Then abruptly his brain caught up with his heart and he opened his mouth to say something, only nothing came out.
Max smiled wryly. “Here’s where you say you don’t understand why I kept the letters from you but it’s okay because you still love me too.”
“You really love me?”
“I do.”
“Even after this is done?”
“Especially after this is done.”
They met in the middle, awkwardly stuck in seat belts yet kissing like there was nothing else. Max cradled Lucien’s face and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and Lucien just melted.