Breaking Out

by Lydia Michaels

  In an exasperated tone, he said, “The last thing I want you to do is leave. Now, please, go back to bed. I’m tired and I can’t do this right now.”

  This? As in her? “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He started cleaning up the papers around his desk and tossing the shattered pieces of the lamp into the canister on the floor. She was clearly dismissed.

  Evelyn returned to bed and waited. Her ears clung to every sound, trying to imagine where he was and exactly what he was doing out there. The condo grew quiet for several minutes and she assumed he was finished cleaning up the mess. Then she heard the guest room door click shut and something inside of her broke. Turning her face into the pillow, she wailed silently. Her fists balled in the covers. She couldn’t take any more.

  ***

  Evelyn awoke in a daze. Her throat was sore and her lips were dry. As memories of the previous day came crashing back, a heavy ache settled over her chest. Moving quickly, she climbed out of bed and used the bathroom. She was still in her clothes from the night before.

  Uncaring of her appearance, she went to find Lucian. As she left the bedroom she heard his voice speaking quietly.

  “No, not an efficiency. I want a fully furnished studio or condo. There has to be a doorman. I want her to feel safe there . . .”

  Evelyn’s heart plummeted to her feet. Was he kicking her out?

  “I also want to make sure there is an account set up in her name for emergencies and any incidentals. I won’t be able to keep in contact with her and I need to know I haven’t forgotten anything.”

  She was going to be sick. Unable to listen to anymore, she turned back to the bedroom and quietly shut the door. Heading straight to the shower, she turned on all four showerheads. She didn’t want him to hear her crying. This was her fault and she always knew what they had couldn’t last forever. He had been quite specific when they first agreed to their arrangement. No lying. No going back to that section of the city.

  After a long shower, her nose was clear, but her head seemed stuffed with cotton. She took her time brushing out her hair. Unsure of what the day would bring, she dressed in sneakers, jeans, a light shirt, and her warmest sweater. The sweater was a heavy black cable-knit Lucian had given her last Christmas when they went to a tree farm. That would keep her warm if she ended up back on the streets.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went to face the music.

  Lucian was off the phone and reading over papers at his desk. He was fully dressed in a suit and his hair was dry. He must have woken up very early.

  “There’s breakfast for you there.”

  Silently, Evelyn turned and saw a covered dish awaiting her at the small bistro table. She had never been so frightened to speak. Terrified if she uttered one word her world would come tumbling down. Sitting at the table, she poured a cup of coffee from the insulated carafe and lifted the pewter cover from the dish, a box of cereal, a sliced grapefruit, and a muffin, all things that could have been ordered hours ago.

  She picked at the muffin, not really having much of an appetite. Her back was stiff and she stared out the window as if she found the tops of buildings fascinating. Giving up on her breakfast, she sipped from her coffee cup.

  “Did you have any plans today?”

  She started and splashed hot coffee over her fingers. Hissing from the burn, she quickly put down her mug and grabbed the linen napkin.

  Lucian was there in an instant. “Jesus, Evelyn, did you burn yourself?”

  She was shaking terribly and couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s fine,” she said, brushing away his touch.

  “Here, let me.” He pushed her hands away and examined the red mark on the soft part of her hand between her index finger and thumb. He brought her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss there. Her eyes immediately welled up with tears.

  “There, all better.”

  His stare drilled into her. She shut her eyes, afraid to meet his penetrating gaze.

  “Evelyn, look at me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Please.”

  Her lashes fluttered open and she slowly lifted her face.

  “Aw, baby, don’t cry.”

  She couldn’t help it. A tear slid past her lashes and down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” he whispered, wiping away the tracks.

  “Are you throwing me out?”

  “What?” His voice was a rasp, his surprise at her question apparent. “God, love, no, I’m not throwing you out. Why would you even think that?”

  She didn’t have the courage to tell him what she overheard when he was on the phone that morning. Shaking her head she said, “Because I wasn’t honest with you and I went back to Lower Folsom.”

  “But now everything’s out in the open, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s put it behind us. Our time’s too precious to waste arguing. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”

  “I promise.”

  He tipped her chin up and gently kissed her lips. More tears fell as she pressed her lips to his, needing him desperately in that moment. His arms wound around her and she was lifted out of the chair. Lucian dropped to his knees, taking them both to the floor.

  “Why do you have so many clothes on?” he asked as he stripped the bulky sweater off of her. “Were you expecting a blizzard?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect,” she admitted as he got her down to her jeans and bra.

  He stilled. “Evelyn,” he said slowly. “You know I would never just throw you out. Tell me you know that.”

  She didn’t know that, but she nodded anyway. When the actual end of their relationship came there was no telling how it would go.

  He reached for her face and ran his fingers over the arch of her cheekbone. “I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did yesterday. It’s just . . . I lost someone before. The thought of losing you, of anything happening to you, I . . . I can’t bear it.”

  She knew very little about Monique, his ex. All she knew was that he shared her with Slade the scumbag, and now she was dead. He never talked about her. She didn’t know if he loved her. She didn’t know how often he dreamed of her or thought of her. She didn’t even know what the woman looked like or how she died. She only knew that for some reason Lucian felt responsible.

  He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry. Let’s forget about yesterday.”

  They hugged for several long moments. His mouth slowly pressed kisses into her shoulder, her neck and down the center of her chest. Lifting her slightly, he undid the back clasp of her bra and slid the straps down her arms. He kissed over the swells of her breasts, down the valley in between. Undoing her pants and pressing them low on her thighs, he kissed over the sharp curve of her hips and to the top of her sex, but never once touched her nipples or her clit.

  Evelyn arched toward his mouth, begging him for more with her body. “Lucian, please. I need you.”

  “Shh.” He bit at her side, a soft reprimand for trying to take control. Finally, his tongue slowly licked over her needy sex. She moaned, her back bowing off the carpet. He slid his arm under her thighs, banding them together, pressing them to his chest as he licked again. Slow, long strokes of his tongue teased the sensitive bud.

  Her fingers sifted through his soft hair, holding him to her and he bit her thigh. She squeaked.

  “Hands above your head.” She groaned, but did as he asked.

  The gentle torture continued and her skin glistened with sweat. The feel of her coarse jeans being yanked from her legs was like coming up for air after diving to the bottom of a swimming pool.

  His mouth traveled slowly over her hip as he cradled her close. “Come to the bedroom,” he whispered.

  She was putty in his hands. He scooped her up and carried her back
to their bed. She nestled into his shoulder as he carried her, needing the reassurance that they were okay.

  Taking his time, he covered her. His lips feasted on every sensual point of her body, licked at every sensitive curve.

  She arched into him, wanting him inside of her, but Lucian remained in steady control as he slowly awakened every part of her soul. His warm breath heated the sensitive curve of her neck as he kissed her and fit himself between her legs.

  She wrapped her limbs around him, holding tight as he gradually filled her. “Lucian,” she breathed, her lips pressing into his strong chest.

  He held her to him. “I love you so much, Evelyn. I can’t imagine being without you.”

  They made love, taking their time and savoring every gentle thrust and quiver. The steady build of desire finally broke and washed away all her remaining tension.

  Wave after wave of intense pleasure assaulted her, blacking out all rational thought, taking her body to a place her mind couldn’t intrude. Time ceased to exist. All that mattered was Lucian. When he came, he did so on her torso, heat coating her rosy breasts, marking her with his scent. Her name fell from his lips and echoed off the walls. She never heard anything so beautiful in her life.

  She loved him. God, she loved him. She hoped he truly meant what he said, because if he ever wanted her to leave she didn’t think her mind, or her soul, would survive. Her body would never be the same after belonging so completely to Lucian Patras. Unfortunately, neither would her heart.

  Chapter 10

  Reservations

  By Thursday, Lucian still had not left the condo for more than an hour on his own. Evelyn was beginning to get offended. Every time he did run out, housekeeping conveniently came by. She was being babysat like a child.

  She hadn’t heard any more talk about an apartment, but that was probably because she’d barely been able to use the bathroom alone all week. Tuesday night she lay awake beside him, a sickening thought playing in her head.

  He’s renting an apartment for another woman.

  He wanted it furnished. He wouldn’t be able to be in contact with this female for certain amounts of time. Once the thought entered her mind, she tried to discredit it, but the seed had been planted. Was he having an affair?

  She was too afraid to ask, afraid he might confirm her suspicions, or worse, lie to her. The only thing that distracted her from the suspicious hurt knifing through her gut was her instinctual need to survive. It became imperative that she find a new job. She needed to be able to support herself, and she was not going back to St. Christopher’s if she could avoid it.

  She started playing around with her new craft materials. She wasn’t sure what she was aiming to make. She didn’t use her favorite piece. Rather she played with the others, in case she messed something up somehow.

  This was the only distraction from her fears that Lucian was somehow keeping something horrible from her. Using the wire, she formed loops and wound the metal around the sea glass in different, intricate designs. She used various widths of wire and tightly wrapped a thicker strand with thinner wire in order to reinforce it. Before she knew it, she had a bracelet.

  She clamped the ends with clasps and soldered the details into place where she could without detracting from the artsy appearance. When she showed Lucian what she’d created, he turned her wrist this way and that and seemed quite impressed. So she made another one and another and eventually tried making a pendant and a ring.

  Lucian put a call into his jeweler and had an interesting bar delivered that helped with sizing and allowed her to form the band in a perfect circle. After she made about eight pieces, each one unique, she decided to make something with her favorite piece of sea glass.

  Lucian sat, working at his desk as she sorted through her jar of sea glass. She couldn’t find her favorite, so she carefully poured the pieces out on a black velvet cloth. It wasn’t there.

  Stupidly, the missing piece breached some protective wall she’d been hiding behind. Symbolic of every anxiety she had of losing the grip on everything she loved, she completely overreacted to the missing piece of sea glass. Her search became frantic.

  She’d never owned beautiful things until recently, and she found a peculiar attachment to this piece, now missing. Panicked, she climbed down from her chair and began searching the floor.

  “Evelyn, what are you doing?” Lucian asked, not taking his eyes from his paperwork.

  “I’m missing one.” She dragged her fingers over the carpet, clearly seeing it wasn’t there. Lifting back up to her worktable, she dumped canisters of typewriter keys, jars of silverware, and her pliers all onto the surface. “It’s not here!”

  He was suddenly behind her, his warm palms weighing on her shoulders, gentling her alarm. “Hey, what isn’t there?”

  “My favorite piece, the one I love.”

  He paused. Why did that word keep intruding in her neatly organized life? Lucian seemed to flinch every time it passed her lips, never in reference to her feelings for him.

  He cleared his throat. “The purple one?”

  “Yes!” It was irrational to care so much that a piece of glass was gone, but she did.

  “I’m sure it’ll turn up.” Rather than help her, he walked away. At the sideboard he poured himself a cup of coffee and watched her with a curious look on his face. It irritated her that she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help it. It also annoyed her that he didn’t seem to care.

  “I think you need to get out of the condo for a bit.”

  She scowled at him. “I don’t want to get out of the condo. I want to find my fucking piece.” Her crass words were overdone and frosted the air between them like shards of ice, cooling the otherwise pleasant morning.

  His mug clanked down with a snap, and he walked into the bedroom. She continued to sort through her belongings, slowly righting her canisters and restoring the items she had spilled.

  Lucian returned with a new tie dangling from his neck and a suit jacket on. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  “Where are you going?” There was accusation in her voice. Something coiled for a fight deep inside of her.

  “I need to take a ride downtown to meet with someone.”

  Someone.

  Her body stilled, and she had the sudden urge to throw herself at his feet and beg him not to go. He was going to go see her. The girl he was renting an apartment for. Anger was overthrown by dread. “Okay,” she said slowly, not sure why she wasn’t stopping him. Perhaps she needed to see if he would actually go, so blatantly, right before her eyes.

  As he adjusted his cufflinks, pain, jealousy, fear, and anger twisted inside of her until it took everything she possessed not to fall apart in hysterics.

  “I should be back shortly. Housekeeping—”

  “Lucian, do me a favor and give the babysitters the day off.”

  His lips thinned. Rather than argue, he turned and left. She was in a miserable mood. Maybe she did need to get out. But where could she go? Everything was messed up and she feared leaving, feared she might not be welcomed back.

  A glimpse of a faceless woman in their home rushed through her mind, and she nearly heaved. Her face pressed into her palms and she groaned. It couldn’t be someone else. There had to be a better explanation for why things felt so strained between her and Lucian. There just had to be.

  After about twenty minutes of wandering around the suite as though she were lost, she found herself staring at the messy papers strewn across Lucian’s desk. Illiteracy was something she hated. Although she was learning to read, the sight of so many written words, a language she was blind to, intimidated her and made her feel helpless.

  She needed to know why he was renting an apartment. If he was seeing someone else, she needed to know. She needed to be prepared for the worst.

  Flashbacks of the first day they met came hurtl
ing to the forefront of her mind, stilling her hand. Lucian’s desk was off limits, but they were not the same people they were then. He trusted her now, right? Then why did the thought of rummaging through his papers feel like such an untrustworthy crime?

  Her hand reached to a stack of notes he had scribbled. Cursive. She was lost. The sudden shrill bark of the desk phone in the quiet condo had her jumping back. With a shaky hand she reached for the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Relief flooded her. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know why I acted—”

  Lucian sighed. He sounded as though he was in his limo. “This has been a stressful week. Why don’t we get out of the city for a while?”

  “And go to your house?”

  “Yes. I want . . . I want to escape for a while. I want us to have time together without thinking about anything, but ourselves.”

  This was the cleansing they needed. He wanted to clean away the residue still tarnishing their trust. “Lucian, you know I won’t lie to you.” Please just be honest with me.

  “I know. I just . . . sometimes I worry about what comes next.”

  His cryptic words made her frown. “What do you mean?”

  “I have a gift for you, Evelyn, tonight, but . . . but you have to promise me—no matter what—you will go to the country with me immediately afterward.”

  Where else would she go? “I promise.”

  “Good. Pack a bag and get dressed for dinner. Nothing too sexy. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  She laughed. “Since when are you against sexy?”

  “Just . . . for tonight. Please.”

  Something was off in his voice. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he sounded scared, but that was impossible. Nothing frightened Lucian Patras. “Okay.”

  She packed a suitcase for the week and showered. She didn’t own a lot of clothing that wasn’t sexy and for that she blamed Lucian, so she hoped the outfit she chose was appropriate for wherever they were going.

  Black tailored pants hugged her hips and hung loose at the calf. She selected a dainty pair of sling-back heels that matched a black bangle bracelet. She wore a sheer white blouse with large black polka dots and a collar that tied in a big ruffled bow. She resembled one of those stewardesses who direct people on a plane.