The Man Who Has No Heart (Soulless Book 2)

by Victoria Quinn

  “That could be hundreds of feet deep…”

  “Yeah.”

  When the sun started to hide behind the trees, we headed back to the house, showered, and then had dinner. We sat on the back patio with the fire burning, and Derek put a few marshmallows on his sticks so he could roast them over the fire.

  “You want one, Dad?” Derek asked, sitting in the chair with his stick held in his hands.

  Marshmallows weren’t food. They were a bunch of chemicals squished together. But the memories with my son were more important than my religious feelings about processed foods. “Sure.” I put one on my stick and stuck it over the fire.

  Derek’s kept catching on fire, so he blew it out and took a bite. “Yuck.”

  “Let them brown. Not burn.” I grabbed his stick and replaced the marshmallow. “Like this.” I put mine back into the fire and slowly turned it, letting the white surface gradually turn brown. “It makes the outside a little crunchy, the inside gooey. But don’t keep it in too long. It’ll melt off the stick.”

  He copied me and got it right away. Then he made himself a s’more, using two pieces of chocolate instead of just one. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

  “You want to go on a hike?”

  “Yeah.” He bit into his s’more, getting chocolate and marshmallow everywhere. “I want to show Cleo that anthill I found last time.”

  She didn’t have kids of her own, so I was surprised she was so good with Derek. She was a natural. It would be nice to have her up here, for the three of us to relax without the outside world pressing in.

  When Derek was finished, he wiped his mouth then relaxed into the chair, staring at the fire. Then his eyes grew heavier, closing altogether before he jerked slightly, doing his best to stay awake because he didn’t want to sleep.

  I watched him, a smile on my face.

  He eventually lost the battle and fell asleep in the chair.

  I stared at my son, his face slightly turned toward me. With dark hair just like mine, the same eyes, same everything, he was another version of me…a better one. Tucker and I spent a lot of time together growing up, but I never considered us to be friends. Derek was the only friend I really had…until Cleo came along.

  Derek and I were at the dining table having breakfast when we heard the car pull up to the front of the house.

  “Is Cleo here?” He turned in his chair then landed on his feet.

  “We’ll see.” I left my coffee mug behind, and together, we headed out the front door.

  The driver opened the back and grabbed her bag.

  Cleo stood there in jeans and a shirt, a similar outfit to the one she wore last time she was here. And just like last time, those tight jeans made her ass look like a peach. She took the bag from the driver. “Thanks for the lift.”

  I walked up to the driver and gave him a tip for his trouble. “Thanks, man.”

  He smiled at my gratitude before he got into the car and drove off.

  “Cleo!” Derek ran to her, his head hitting her stomach when he crashed into her.

  She stumbled back slightly, but when she laughed, her smile was wide and her eyes were bright, like she didn’t mind the stampede at all. “Hey, Derek.” She kneeled just the way I did, wrapping her arms around him for a closer hug, her chin moving to his shoulder. After a squeeze, she released him. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “Me too. We’re going on a hike after breakfast. There’s this anthill I want to show you.”

  “Wow, sounds interesting.” She rose to her feet and picked up her bag again.

  “I got it.” I took the bag from her and hooked the strap over my shoulder. I had been about to say something when I got to her, but now the words left me. Her blue eyes were even brighter up close, the joy burning in her gaze like two blue suns. I wasn’t quiet because I was rigid or uncomfortable. It was for another reason entirely.

  “Thanks.” She smiled at me, used to my silent stares.

  I finally got my act together. “Thanks for coming up.”

  “My pleasure. Spending the weekend at a lake house cabin sounds like a vacation.”

  I moved into her and wrapped my arm around her waist, giving her a one-armed hug, pulling her into me with my palm flat against her back.

  She hugged me back, her arms hooking around my waist for a quick squeeze.

  I cleared my throat and turned to the front door, knowing that Derek was right there. “You want breakfast?”

  “I ate on the drive.”

  I took her into the house then carried her bag up the stairs. There was a guest room with a queen-sized bed and its own bathroom, so I set her bag on the bed. “Is this alright?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s beautiful.” She stepped inside and looked at the pictures on the walls, the log-hewn furniture, the deep green rug with ducks on it. “I could stay forever.”

  “I could too.” If I could, I’d ditch the smog of the city and settle into the wilderness. Sometimes I reconsidered the commute, but that idea was always quickly trashed. “I’ll let you get dressed.” I turned to the door.

  “Deacon?”

  I stopped at the entryway and turned back to her.

  “How long of a hike are we talking?”

  “Maybe ten miles.”

  Both of her eyes widened.

  “You can do it,” I said with a smile. “You do that every day in five-inch heels.”

  I wore running shorts and a black t-shirt, the heavy backpack hanging over my shoulders, filled with a first aid kit, food, and water. Even if we didn’t go too far, I feared Derek might get hurt, and I didn’t want to be stuck in the wilderness without the essentials to care for him. “Don’t go too far, Derek.”

  He veered off the path, looking into the grass. “I know the anthill is around here somewhere…”

  Cleo was in little shorts and a tank top, showing more skin than she ever had before. She had nice legs, sculpted from her ankles to her thighs, and a few hours in the sun gave them a sexy glow. Her top was tight, hugging the deep curve of her lower back and showing off her perky tits as the swells peeked out from the top. Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, pulled through the back of her ball cap.

  She kept up with us as well as I expected her to.

  “It’s beautiful up here.” She matched my pace without having to increase her breathing.

  “It is.”

  “You’re going to have a lot of good years at this place.” Her arms swung by her sides as she moved, the tops of her shoulders glistening with a little sweat, but despite her exertion, she was as pretty as ever.

  “I think so too.”

  Derek continued to look for the anthill, his pace halted as he searched in the grass.

  “You’ll find another one, Derek,” I said, my eyes always on my son when we were deep in the forest.

  “But this one was huge.” He left the grass and returned to the path, taking the lead in his big floppy hat and long-sleeved shirt. He would run far up ahead so he would have time to examine the grass and dirt for signs of ants and spiders.

  “At least he’s not afraid of bugs,” Cleo said.

  “Whenever there’s a spider in the house, he insists on freeing it.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet,” she said.

  “Valerie hates it. But I told him spiders are the ones eating all the insects you don’t want in your house.”

  “True.”

  “But then he tried to save a yellow jacket one time…and that was a terrible experience.”

  She chuckled. “I can imagine.”

  “I got stung three times.”

  “Ouch. Did he live?”

  “Yep,” I said with a growl. “The motherfucker lived.”

  She burst into a loud laugh, appreciating my joke.

  She understood me—and I loved that about her.

  “He’s aware of other things besides himself, which I think is a good thing. He understands people’s feelings really well. He can observe other’s behavior
and correctly interpret it.”

  I’d noticed the same thing. “He didn’t get that from me.”

  She chuckled. “No, he didn’t. But it’s a good thing he has it. His social skills will be better.”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t want him to be a social outcast the way I was, living in solitude on a lake without a single person around. Going against the grain always made me different, always made it difficult to get things done. I’d been called an asshole many times because of it.

  “He’s basically the perfect human being.”

  I was actually glad I’d fucked Valerie and spent five years in misery—because it gave me him.

  “When we were in your office a few days ago, he told me you’re a lot happier now than you used to be with Valerie. How does a five-year-old notice that?”

  I shook my head. “No idea.”

  “I found it!” Derek moved off the path, indicating the tall pile of dirt.

  “Wow, it is big.” Cleo came to his side and squatted down.

  My eyes immediately went to the bottom of her ass that poked out from the hem of her shorts.

  “What kind of ants are these?” she asked.

  Derek continued to study them. “I don’t know, but they’re huge.”

  I pulled my gaze away from her sexy cheeks and pulled out my phone. “Let’s take a picture and figure it out later.” I grabbed a twig and set it next to an ant before I snapped the shot.

  “Why did you do that?” Derek asked, looking at the twig.

  “So, you have perspective.” I rose to my feet and put the phone back into my pocket.

  He grabbed the branch and started to poke it into the sand of the hill.

  “How would you feel if someone did that to your home?” I asked. “Shoved a metal pole through your bedroom window?”

  Derek put down the branch, looking guilty.

  Cleo glanced up at me, her eyes soft.

  Derek sat there, squatting on the ground, and just watched the ants.

  I stepped into the shade, and Cleo joined me. I pulled out some water for us to drink.

  She popped the cap and took a drink. “Now I know where he gets it from.”

  I finished my drink and stared at her.

  “Why he’s so thoughtful of other people…because you taught him to be.”

  When we returned to the house, we had lunch, showered, and then Derek took a nap. He had more energy than I did, but when there was too much excitement during the day, he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

  I grabbed two beers and walked onto the patio, seeing Cleo in one of the chairs, wearing jeans and a top. She didn’t notice me right away, taking in the sight of the quiet lake, the way the sun hit the surface of the water, her lips and eyes relaxed.

  I moved to the chair beside her and held up the bottle.

  She took it.

  “This is all I have. Is that okay?”

  “I like beer.” She took a drink and relaxed again, her hair down around her shoulders.

  I parted my knees and rested my arms on the sides of the chair, the beer dangling from my fingers. I watched the lake for a while, listened to the pure silence, watched the leaves move in the slight breeze. The world was so quiet, so slow. Manhattan was constantly raging with activity, people practically running down the sidewalk to get to their next appointment. But here…the only way to watch the time pass was by the movement of the sun as the world rotated.

  I turned to her. “How was your dinner last night?”

  “Fine.” She rested her head against the wooden back of the chair, her face turned toward me. “My client hosted a charity gala for the Red Cross, so I helped set everything up and made sure the night ran smoothly.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  She shrugged. “I was working.”

  Did she feel like she was working when she was with me? “Do you like your client?”

  “I like all my clients.”

  “Do you actually mean that, or are you supposed to say that?”

  She smiled at my blunt question. “Not all my clients are the same. Some are more difficult than others. And there are some I like more than others. But for the most part, yes, I do like them all…except one or two.”

  I bet Jake Patterson was one of those two. I saw him in the elevator one time, and he stared at me like we had a blood feud going on between us. But I wasn’t intimidated by a man who spoke to women that way. I didn’t like him. I disliked him so much that I would punch him in the face the second he gave me a reason to. “I’m not one of those two, right?”

  She smiled with her eyes. “We both know the answer to that.”

  I continued to grip my beer as I stared at her, the one person I could drop my guard with, sit still with. Most of my conversations were task-oriented, so we always had something to discuss. But there were times when I had absolutely nothing to say to Cleo—but I talked anyway.

  “I booked a flight for Monday morning.”

  I didn’t want to think about sending Derek home.

  She must have noticed the sadness in my eyes because she said, “I’ll figure it out with Valerie. I’ll get her to relocate here.”

  I would normally tell her it was impossible, that the woman was too stubborn and spiteful, but if anyone could do it, it was Cleo. “I hope so.” I took a drink of my beer. “No parent should have to go through this…to drop off his son and not see him for a month.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “When I dropped him off with Valerie last time, I felt terrible the entire journey back…like I’d left a piece of my heart behind.”

  That was the perfect description.

  “But every time I do it, I’ll leave another piece of my heart…and then another.”

  I nodded.

  “But we’ll figure it out, Deacon. I promise.”

  If this woman made a promise, she delivered. And I actually had faith it could happen. “Alright.”

  After we had dinner, we sat in front of the fire, our chairs huddled close together so we all had access to the flames. Cleo had a blanket over her body to stay warm, which she shared with Derek.

  Derek slid the marshmallow onto the stick and handed it to her. “Have you ever done this before?”

  “No,” she answered. “Why don’t you show me?”

  I smiled slightly, knowing she was lying.

  “Well, you don’t want to burn the marshmallow,” Derek instructed. “Doesn’t taste good. Trust me.”

  She chuckled. “Alright. Don’t let it burn. Got it.”

  He put the marshmallow on his stick and stuck it in the fire. “Don’t get too close, just close enough for it to turn brown on the outside. And turn it, like those hot dogs at the gas station.”

  I sighed in annoyance, wishing Valerie wouldn’t let him eat gas station garbage.

  Cleo did as he instructed, slowly turning it. “Pretty easy. Thanks, Derek.”

  “Dad taught me.” He kept spinning the stick. “But we have to be careful, because if it melts on the inside, it’ll slide off the stick. All our hard work will be for nothing.”

  “Oh no,” she said.

  They kept turning their sticks.

  I watched them together, a little tired from all the beer I’d had that afternoon. I usually restricted myself to one or two per day, but since I was so relaxed, I just kept drinking. Now my eyes were a little tired. My brain didn’t fire off with endless thoughts. I kind of just…existed. I smiled slightly as I watched them together.

  “Okay, pull it out.” Derek retracted the stick and grabbed two plates.

  Cleo removed her marshmallow from the flame.

  “So, you take two crackers…” He put them on the plate. “One piece of chocolate. Then you put the marshmallow on top…like this.” He smeared it onto the chocolate.

  “Wow, that looks good.”

  “Then you put another piece of chocolate on top…” He placed the bar on top of the hot marshmallow.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it just on
e piece of chocolate?”

  “Yeah, but that’s stupid.” He put the cracker on top. “And that’s it.”

  She chuckled and did the same—using two pieces of chocolate. She took a bite, the crunch audible. “Wow, that is good.”

  “It’s awesome.” Derek made a mess as he ate it, getting the ingredients all over his face.

  Cleo was a lot better at it, barely getting a smear of chocolate on the corner of her mouth.

  “And then we just keep doing it.” He grabbed his stick again.

  I wanted Derek to enjoy his youth, do everything fun while he still could, but I didn’t want him addicted to sugar. “One more, Derek.”

  Derek turned to Cleo and rolled his eyes as if I couldn’t see him.

  Cleo tried not to smile—but was unsuccessful.

  They were so cute together that I pretended not to notice.

  Derek fell asleep in his chair, the blanket up to his chin, while the shadows from the flames danced across his face. He always slept with his lips slightly parted, some of his small teeth visible.

  Cleo was comfortable in her chair, having the other half of the blanket, her eyes heavy and tired.

  I knew it was time to put Derek into bed and put out the fire, but I didn’t want to move. If we wouldn’t be eaten by mosquitoes, I probably would just stay out there. But if I returned Derek covered in red bites, Valerie might not let me have him again.

  I stayed put anyway, putting off movement as long as possible.

  I might be a little drunk.

  Cleo turned to me, her eyes heavy too, like she was exhausted from the long day or had too much to drink herself. With her blue eyes on my face, she stared at me, stared at me like my features were more hypnotizing than the flames that started to burn low.

  There was always a thought in my mind, a note I wanted to jot down, a comment I made to myself. But now my brain was quiet, simmering like hot coals. It was nice to absorb the calm night, to feel a level of peace I hadn’t felt in years. It’d been so long since I’d felt this way…felt happy.

  She continued to watch me, her eyes hardly blinking.

  I could stare at her forever.