Lucian

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Lucian Page 27

by Bethany-Kris


  But not this time. He did what he wanted to, she realized.

  Fucked her like he didn’t love her, but it was impossible not to feel it, even so.

  As Jordyn shattered with another orgasm, Lucian didn’t bother to stop or slow down.

  She didn’t quite know it then, but he wouldn’t for hours. It was one of the only good things she could think of about him mixing pain pills with whiskey.

  • • •

  Jordyn woke to a quiet condo, but for the ring of her cell phone alarm clock. Morning light was only starting to filter in through the bedroom window. The soreness in her limbs and down between her thighs was a swift reminder of the night before.

  That didn’t much matter, though. She had to get up, say goodbye even if she didn’t want to, and go about her day like everything was fine and normal.

  Certainly not like her heart and soul was breaking.

  She didn’t want Lucian to see that anyway.

  Jordyn took her time getting out of bed, mindful of the tenderness spreading through her muscles. In the bathroom, she took inventory of her body and what he’d left. Teeth marks on her breast and shoulders that nearly broke the skin. Redness on her cheek and jaw from his stubble scratching to her skin. The kiss that sent her flying to the floor had swelled her lips and reddened them more than they usually were. Marks from his fingernails, imprints from his fingers, and discoloration from her clothes being pulled from her body. Her curls, usually messy and out of control, were a total lost cause.

  Those were only the things she could see.

  What she couldn’t visibly find, she could feel.

  Deep in her bones. A burn in her thighs. Weakness, fatigue, and melancholy.

  She didn’t want to say goodbye. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell Lucian that. It was safer for him to go. Even if it was only for a short time.

  Pulling on something to be decent enough for Lucian’s parents’ visit that morning, Jordyn followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen. The people who waited for her there were not who she expected so early.

  Antony cleared his throat as Jordyn walked into the space. She was well aware she looked thoroughly fucked and exhausted. She also didn’t care. Lucian should have warned her they were there and she would have been more presentable.

  “Good morning,” Antony said quietly.

  Jordyn glanced at a teary Cecelia sipping coffee at the table.

  “Where’s Lucian?” Jordyn asked.

  “We were hoping you could tell us that, Jordyn.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Antony sighed, leaning into the counter. “Security was advised to let us up this morning and not to bother calling through to the condo first.”

  Jordyn wasn’t understanding what he was saying. “So?”

  “So, I suspect Lucian didn’t want them to wake you up to give the okay because obviously he knew he wasn’t going to be here. I called down a little while ago, they said he left around six this morning.”

  Something awful stabbed into her heart.

  He wasn’t here.

  Lucian was already gone, and he hadn’t even woke her up to say goodbye.

  “I thought you were supposed to send him off somewhere,” Jordyn accused. “How are we going to know where he is or if he’s safe if we don’t know where he is?”

  Antony shrugged. “I have the distinct feeling Lucian did this on purpose. Gio said it himself last night. Whoever is behind the attacks could be a lot closer than we think. Even one of his family members knowing could be very dangerous. Lucian isn’t stupid. He has the ability to blend in well with normal people, he’s got more than enough cash to stay off anyone’s radar. Knowing my son, he’s close. And I’ll bet given his attachment, he won’t be too far from you, however I doubt he’ll show himself.”

  Jordyn bit the inside of her cheek until pain saturated her mouth to keep her from shouting her frustrations. “What now?”

  Finally, Cecelia spoke up. “My birthday is in two weeks. He won’t miss that. I know it without a doubt. He’s never missed my birthday.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. We’ve had Cecelia’s night out planned for a while, so Lucian is aware of the place and time. But until then, he’s as safe as he’s ever going to be, Jordyn,” Antony said. “I don’t like how he did it, but he did what I asked, nonetheless. That’s what’s important and more than I thought he would do, frankly.”

  Jordyn forced herself to be calm, and then decided it didn’t really matter. “I’m taking a fucking sick day.”

  Antony coughed away his surprise, muttering, “I think that’d be okay today.”

  Yeah, like he had a say.

  • • •

  “ID to confirm check-in, sir?”

  Lucian tossed the fake driver’s licence to the counter.

  “Okay, John Antony. I have that room ready,” the clerk said. “Do you need someone to take your bags up?”

  “No,” Lucian replied. “I think I can handle it.”

  “Two weeks, yes?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  The girl smiled a little too widely, but Lucian wasn’t paying her any mind. “Do you want to put a credit card on the account for—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I’ll pay in cash.”

  Surprise registered in the woman’s eyes. “But usually our guests who stay for an extended period prefer to pay one final bill at the end, not many smaller ones.”

  “I’m not a regular guest,” Lucian muttered. “Can I have my key card?”

  It took the woman a minute to fumble around with getting the information loaded on the card before she handed it over with another big smile. Lucian was far too exhausted and annoyed to bother with pleasantries.

  He hadn’t even showered before leaving the condo earlier. After taking a cab downtown, then switching to another to take him half way back the way he’d come, he paid the driver, got out, and walked into the morning crowd of people just beginning to flood the streets.

  Wearing a leather jacket, dark wash denim, and a ball cap, he looked like any other New Yorker on their way to wherever, constantly in a rush to get nowhere. Briefly, he’d stopped at a café to eat something worthy of being called breakfast, but even feeding himself felt robotic. Just another motion he had to go through.

  Without Jordyn, he was feeling particularly unsettled.

  Lucian didn’t like being so far from her. He also couldn’t bear to wake her up and see how sad and pained she would be when he said goodbye. Hopefully she wasn’t too angry with him over that. If she was, he’d spend however long it took to make it up to her.

  After settling into his suite, Lucian unpacked the one bag he brought along. It was only enough clothes to do him a few days, nothing over the top. The hotel offered laundry service and he would definitely be using that. Other than the clothes, he hadn’t brought along much else. Twenty-thousand in cash from his safe. His gun, of course, with a fully loaded clip and a backup, just in case. A book from his library, though he doubted his mind would calm enough to read it.

  There was no phone other than the one in his room which he wouldn’t use. No tablet to check his emails and such. Nothing to keep up with his businesses, though he’d taken care of that earlier by leaving messages for the managers of his places that would be curious about his sudden vacation.

  Vacation. That was a damned joke.

  Lucian didn’t know how to relax when he wasn’t working, or next to Jordyn.

  Strange how that worked.

  Lucian put the shower to use, cleaning off the smell of sex and sweat still lingering from the night before. While he cleaned the stitches around his bullet graze, he kept his mind on Jordyn and how absolutely amazing she looked underneath him to stray away from thinking much about the pain radiating through his arm.

  The first day after anything was always the worst.

  Paulie had given him a round of antibiotics to take for a couple of weeks, so Lucian popped the pills back before deci
ding he couldn’t stay still much longer.

  A half hour, two cabs, and short walk later, Lucian found himself staring at a payphone.

  Jesus, it’d been years since he used one of these.

  Sighing, he inserted a quarter and dialed a familiar number. It’d bypass his father’s secretaries and the usual nonsense and take him straight to who he needed to speak with.

  Antony picked up on the fourth ring. “Antony Marcello speaking.”

  “Papà,” Lucian said quietly. “I’m good. Settled. Safe.”

  A breath of relief whooshed into the phone. “Thank you, son. Your mother isn’t happy. Find her something especially nice for her birthday to make up for it. I’ll have a room booked under the usual name and something appropriate for you to wear at the hotel across from the Opera Theater. Be on time, please.”

  “Already done. They’ll be in her kitchen when she wakes up on her birthday.”

  “Goodbye, Lucian.”

  “Later, Dad.”

  Lucian hung up the phone just long enough to insert another quarter and dial the number to burner cell phone he’d picked up for Jordyn a couple of weeks earlier. He had a feeling she wouldn’t be up to going to work today, so he didn’t bother to call the phone Antony provided her for work. She picked up the call faster than Antony had his.

  “Hello?”

  “Jordyn … hey. I miss you already, beautiful girl.”

  Silence answered Lucian back.

  “I can’t talk for long, but I wanted to call and apologize for not waking you up this morning.”

  Jordyn whined a soft noise. “Lucian?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. This will be the only time I call, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Let Cecelia take you out to pick something beautiful for her birthday. If you need anything, you know the numbers to get inside my safe. Everything is in there.”

  “Not you,” Jordyn said, laughing lightly.

  “It won’t be long. Nothing big. I love you, huh?”

  “Love you, too.”

  For the first time that morning, Lucian smiled. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Soon,” he echoed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jordyn tried not to trip over the floor length evening gown that was a couple of inches too long without her heels to answer the knock on the bedroom door. Over the last two weeks, she stayed mostly at the condo because she felt closer to Lucian, but on one or two occasions, she found herself at the Marcello home, staying in his bedroom there.

  For Cecelia’s birthday, she had stayed at the Marcello home the night before, and the entire day of the celebration. Apparently getting ready for this opera event was a big thing. Jordyn didn’t quite believe Cecelia on that front until the woman was knocking on the door at ridiculous early morning hours because they needed to start getting ready.

  Over twelve hours before the show.

  Jordyn mistakenly assumed managing her curls into something decent and putting on a bit of makeup was enough for the event.

  It wasn’t. Oh, no.

  Cecelia, as lovely as she was most days, could be a downright tyrant when it came to prepping for a party. It wasn’t just a simple trip to the hairdresser, the entire fucking spa might as well have come to them. According to her, the party before the opera was probably more important than seeing the show itself. Jordyn wasn’t entirely sure why, but a few names had been dropped, the Marcellos included. Everyone who was anyone in New York politics, socialites, and old money was supposed to be there.

  It was disconcerting.

  Lucian offhandedly mentioned once or twice that his family didn’t shy away from public attention. Charities, political runs, and business included. It was just as important to the legal side of the Marcello Empire as it was to the illegal side of it.

  Tonight, Jordyn was officially being introduced into that world … at the side of a Marcello son.

  She knew it was important. Not just for her or Lucian, but for his family as a whole.

  Jordyn wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Being significant just for the sake of being significant had never been a goal of hers. In fact, she’d spent most of her life trying to stay under the goddamned radar.

  This would be nothing like that.

  Jordyn yanked open the bedroom door, coming face to face with a grinning Antony.

  “You look lovely,” he told her.

  Jordyn huffed, blowing a stray curl from her eyes. “Thank you, but your wife is still horrible.”

  “Sometimes,” Antony agreed. “She makes up for it, otherwise. I try to look at it from her perspective. You’re the first woman any of her sons have brought home for her to spoil and love. This is just her way of showing you how much she cares.”

  Right …

  “She’s ridiculously lucky it’s her birthday today. I do not like to be prodded, plucked at, and touched like cattle at a meat market. She can call that beauty treatments all she likes, it’s more like torture. No sane woman enjoys that nonsense.”

  “Cecelia is aware. Tomorrow, she’ll be back to her normal, wonderful self.”

  Jordyn snorted. Antony didn’t even bother to deny his wife’s craziness. “I’m almost finished dressing, if that’s what she sent you up here for.”

  “No. I came up here for something else. It doesn’t concern her, and she’s busy being spoiled by Dante and Gio while missing Lucian. So now is as good of a time as ever to do it.”

  Jordyn’s anxiety spiked. “Is it about Lucian?”

  Two weeks without Lucian were not easy to get through for Jordyn. The silence was deafening. The bed was cold. Work didn’t keep her nearly busy enough not to be constantly worried and thinking about him. She wasn’t sleeping well and her appetite was all but gone.

  The only thing that helped was each new morning meant she was one day closer to seeing Lucian again.

  Oddly, though, Jordyn had a sneaking suspicion Lucian was closer than anyone thought. Especially to her. More than once over the last two weeks, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Hell, it was New York. Who wasn’t watching? This didn’t feel anything like that and it didn’t make her feel unsettled, either. Instead, it was comforting. Hazel eyes, dark hair, a two finger wave and a cocky wink were quick to disappear into a crowd whenever she turned to look.

  Oh, yes. Lucian was watching.

  It was still hard.

  “As far as I know, he should be fine,” Antony finally replied, cocking a brow. “If he’s late tonight, however, I won’t be able to say the same when his mother gets a hold of him.”

  Jordyn’s hand fell to her chest to calm the racing organ beneath. “Are you trying to give me a freaking heart attack, Antony?”

  “I didn’t realize when we talk the first thing I need to say is that Lucian is okay. I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.” Jordyn’s patience was worn so thin, she simply stared at him and trusted her annoyance was clear. Apparently, it was. “Anyway …”

  “I need to finish getting ready,” Jordyn said, hoping he’d get the hint.

  “In a moment,” Antony replied, taking a step into the bedroom. The door was closed behind him, effectively closing out the rest of the house. “Something came for you yesterday, delivered to my consigliere.”

  Jordyn’s brow furrowed. “You mean Paulie?”

  “When I call him Paulie, he’s just my friend. When he’s my consigliere, he’s doing business for the family.”

  The family being the Cosa Nostra side of things. Jordyn understood what he meant quickly enough.

  “Oh. Why would someone give something to him for me?” she asked.

  “To make a point, I think,” Antony said, shrugging. “Besides, I believe this is something you’ll be happy to receive.”

  Antony opened his tuxedo jacket to pull out a small package from the inside pocket before handling it over to Jordyn.

  “I apologize for opening it, but it was designated f
or me first and I felt it was important to make sure it wasn’t anything threatening. I can go, if you’d like to see what’s inside alone. The significance is clear enough you shouldn’t need me to translate for you.”

  Jordyn thanked Antony, waiting until she was alone in the bedroom again before sitting to the edge of the bed. Opening the top of the package, Jordyn upended the contents to the silver bedspread.

  The three items that fell out were not what she expected.

  A check. Her final one, actually, from Legs and Leather. Oddly enough, it was handwritten, not the usual printed ones Ron used to have done up at the bank. The signature of a man’s name she didn’t recognize rested at the bottom.

  That slip of paper probably would have been enough for Jordyn to figure out what Antony meant by the significance … if the small wedding band she hadn’t seen in years wasn’t tapped to the side of the check, also.

  It was her mother’s wedding ring. Sandra hadn’t worn it on her finger, but instead, on the necklace Jordyn had gone back to retrieve along with her memory box. When she found her mother dead from the overdose, the necklace had been broken off, and the ring was missing.

  Jordyn once thought she overlooked it in their messy apartment when she searched for it. She’d also wondered for so long if her mother’s death wasn’t exactly as it seemed. The ring suddenly appearing again said a lot.

  Had Will stole it from her mother’s body and kept it all this time? Where did he keep it?

  Jordyn didn’t dwell on that thought for long. She simply plucked up the plain gold band and slipped it down her index finger for safekeeping.

  The final item cemented all of Jordyn’s tumultuously confused thoughts.

  It was a note, scrawled in the same handwriting as the check.

  Our apologies, it read.

  Freedom is never free.

  Jordyn didn’t quite realize how true that was until she stared at two words that meant nothing at all to her, and absolutely everything at the same time.

 

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