The Sculptor's Seduction (The Gentlemen's Guild Book 2)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  “Hey there, what’s going on?” Terri asked softly against her head as her cries faded into hiccups from her inconsistent breaths.

  She pulled back, feeling guilty for dumping all of this on him after Tash. Cyn shook her head, wiping her eyes.

  “Sloane… he doesn’t want me.” The words felt like a heavy weight around her neck.

  “Well, I figured it had to do with him, but I can’t believe that.” He shook his head. “Sit, I’m making us some Irish coffees.”

  “It’s true, Terri. He doesn’t want me. Maybe he never did. I… I don’t know.”

  “Cyn, there is no way that man doesn’t want you. Have you seen the way that he looks at you?” His words echoed Pierce’s. Maybe she was blind because she didn’t see it, all she saw was him pulling further and further away from her since earlier this morning.

  “Then maybe it’s not enough. I don’t know what to tell you.” She took the spiked coffee from his hands, taking a sip and enjoying the sweet burn of the liquid down her throat.

  “Straight men are morons,” he scoffed. “And ninety-nine percent of everything that they do can be explained by that and this situation is no different.”

  “Terri.” She cut him off. “I told him I loved him and he said that he didn’t.”

  He waved a hand at her. “Of course he did. All men are afraid of love – of course he’s going to deny it first because he’s a moron.”

  “Terri, he told me he was going to pay me for our time together.” Now that, gave him pause.

  “That piece of shit.” Cyn was taken aback – she’d never heard his voice that deeply upset before. “I’m so sorry, hun.”

  She took another sip.

  “I don’t know what happened, Terri. This morning, everything was perfect, and then he saw Tash and… well, everything changed.” She wasn’t going to reveal the elevator incident; it had only exacerbated the emotions that had already been there.

  “Maybe seeing her reminded him of something in the past?”

  Possible. He hadn’t told her that his father had beaten his mom though…

  “Maybe…” she murmured. “Something hurt him. I guess I was just hoping that after everything, especially last night, he would have shared it with me instead of pushing me further away. I don’t know what to do… I feel lost.”

  Terri sighed deeply. “Cyn,” he began, heavily. “I’m not justifying what he said or did, first. All I’m going to say is that everyone responds to deep emotional hurt differently. We all recoil or push back or cope in a way that may seem to make sense at the time, but from an outside perspective doesn’t make any sense.”

  Cyn looked at him curiously as he continued his momentary wisdom.

  “For example, take your past. After what happened with Marcus, can you look back now and say that everything you did really makes sense? Was it really the best thing? He hurt you and you stopped dancing ballet. You let him take away something that was even more important to you than he was at that time. You were so angry at the situation he’d put you in and instead of punishing him by continuing to pursue and succeed in your dream, you punished yourself for his actions.”

  Oh my God. A tear slipped down her face. He was so right.

  “Oh, honey. I don’t say this to make you feel bad about your choices. You did what you felt you had to do. My only point is that sometimes we respond to pain in a way that accomplishes the exact opposite of what we really want. Do you really believe that you were at fault for what Marcus did? Do you really believe that you deserved the punishment that you imposed on yourself?”

  Cyn shook her head furiously. “No.”

  “At some point, whatever hurt Sloane, whatever happened today… He will realize that he is not at fault for whatever happened in his past and he will realize that punishing himself and you for that isn’t helping or protecting anyone.”

  She stared at her friend.

  Everything that he said was the truth.

  Everything he said was what Sloane had made her realize – that she deserved more credit, more respect, than she’d given herself. She was worth it. Marcus had been her first ‘real’ relationship, at least in her mind. And when it ended the way that it did, she blamed herself. Yes, she hated him, but she’d blamed her foolishness and her subsequent actions were punishment for that.

  “I danced ballet for Sloane,” she whispered. “I remember looking at his face when he asked me to do it and as much as the reminder of the past stung, all I could think was ‘of course, I can – this is what I was meant to do.’ Since that day, everything that I’ve been feeling about being stuck and working at the Paradise began to clarify. I think part of me has known for a long time that I should have been pursuing my dream, but that day… Sloane… allowed that part of me to break through. I think that day was when I realized that I could love him because he saw through my weakness and encouraged my strength.” The awe in her voice trailed off as the reality of this day set in. “And now, I’ve lost that.”

  “Maybe,” Terri replied, grabbing her hand. “But you haven’t lost your dream. Even though he gave it to you, he can’t take it back.”

  “I know.” This time, she wasn’t going to punish herself for Sloane’s choice. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “Thank you.” She smiled at her friend. “I never knew you could be so insightful.”

  A large smile took over his face. “I am a man of many talents.” He winked at her and they both chuckled, stopping abruptly as someone knocked on the door.

  What if it was Sloane?... What if it wasn’t Sloane?

  Fear curled inside of her as she met Terri’s equally unnerved gaze. There was no way Tash and Pierce were coming back. And no matter how her heart hoped, she knew it wasn’t Sloane.

  Terri walked over to the door cautiously, looking through the peephole. The tension quickly dissipated from his shoulders as he unlocked and opened the door.

  “How is she?” Sebastian’s smooth voice asked, not sparing a moment to greet his friends. He looked between them and then glanced at the bedroom door. “Where is she?”

  “She’s ok,” Terri replied, moving as Sebastian walked into the room.

  He took a look at Cyn’s tear-streaked face and turned angrily to the other man. “What happened? Where is she?”

  “Nothing! Nothing happened, Sebastian.” She quickly reassured him. “I’m just emotional about everything. Tash is fine; she’s safe.” The relief that washed through him was clear even though he still looked a mess. Terri said that Tash had finally slept last night but it didn’t look like Sebastian had gotten a wink.

  “So then, where is she?” His voice was calmer but still laced with a deadly level of protectiveness.

  “Somewhere safe. Why don’t you sit? I’ll explain…” She patted the couch. It was hard to believe everything that had been decided on and done this morning, but she would do her best to relay the information.

  She knew it was hard not to care about what happened to Tash – how could you not, knowing what she’d experienced? Even Pierce seemed to go over and above his normal self to make her feel better. But this, how Seb was acting, was even beyond that. Maybe it was because he’d been the one to stay with her, the one to calm her last night, but even that didn’t seem to justify the intensity with which he’d returned.

  “Sloane and I got here this morning and we realized that she’s not safe here –in the city. She doesn’t have family or anyone to stay with elsewhere and neither do we. So, Sloane came up with a suggestion that would get her far away from here until we can get Julian Sanchez behind bars.”

  His eyes narrowed on her as he nodded for her to continue. The way he was looking at her made Cyn feel like she was being interrogated. The Sebastian that she’d witnessed over the past twelve hours was nothing like the one that she thought she knew and yet, she still felt him to be the same person; it was unnerving.

  “A few of Sloane’s close friends are overseas on business for a little while. He offered to have them
take Tash along. That way, she’ll be out of the country and with people that Sanchez won’t be able to connect her to…”

  She paused, waiting for him to respond but he said nothing.

  “Where are they taking her?” He finally asked.

  “I… I don’t know if I should say. Of course, I trust you, but I think that for right now, the fewer people who know, the better.” Sebastian looked like he wanted to push her, but quickly thought the better of it. His eyes narrowing as though he were thinking through a million things all at once.

  Nodding, he stood abruptly, saying, “I see. I have to go.” He turned to leave before adding, “If you talk to her before she leaves, tell her I’m sorry and that I meant it.”

  And then he walked out of the door, leaving Terri and herself frozen with equally stupefied expressions on both of their faces.

  “What the heck just happened?” Terri finally turned to her. “Who was that person? That was not Sebastian.”

  “I… I have no idea. I’ve never seen him like that before,” she whispered. “And I’m not sure we’re going to find out, either.”

  Chapter 25

  It had been two weeks.

  Two torturous, terrifying weeks.

  And he was still a mess.

  He hadn’t really left the studio during those weeks – he couldn’t. She was everywhere. He wouldn’t go back to his apartment; after the last time he’d met Pierce there, he knew the space was tainted with her memory. Even here, he hadn’t slept in the bed in the other room. No – not after everything that they had shared in that bed; not after everything that he thought he’d overcome. Instead he used the couch in his studio for those few hours every couple of nights when he could manage to fall asleep.

  Sleep was dangerous though. So exhausted, he would fall quickly into a deep sleep where even darker dreams remained. Nightmares of his mom, her pain, and the fire. Then his mind started imposing Cyn’s face on her body instead. That was when he’d given up on really sleeping, tired of waking up in a cold sweat from trying to save Cyn… from seeing her pained expression from that morning on the lifeless body as it was consumed by flames.

  He’d done the bare minimum work for RSP over those weeks, instead leveraging his CEO status to disconnect himself from the world. He hadn’t gone to see Pierce or Morgan or Tash when they’d left for the U.K. He didn’t think Cyn would be there, but he wasn’t going to take the chance – or put himself in the position to be scolded by Pierce.

  Every place that felt like his space – his apartment, the studio, the small bedroom – now also felt like hers. But, at least in the studio, she was still here – even if it was in sculpted form.

  That was why he didn’t leave. Instead focusing every ounce of energy on finishing her – as though it would heal the damage that he’d done. Every day he vacillated between apologizing to her, telling her that he didn’t mean a word that he said and that he loved her beyond reason… to then reinforcing the belief that everything he’d done was right because if he loved her that much, he wouldn’t put her in the position where he could hurt her.

  A small nagging voice inside of his head replied that it was too late; she was already at that place and he had already hurt her.

  Love for her, anger at himself, and remorse for what he’d done all mingled together and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever find a way out of their woods.

  So, he sculpted and sanded and polished. He worshipped her memory the only way that he could – through his art. This was how he had coped as a child with what was happening between his parents – through art class. And that was why he’d been the one to suggest that all of the Guild’s proceeds be donated to schools to support or create art programs.

  The difference was that this time, he wasn’t doing it to forget what was going on around him, he sculpted to bring himself closer to her, knowing that he’d driven her so far away.

  His greatest fear was that she’d try to renege on the lease and not use the space, but the only thing he made sure his assistant, Amie, kept him informed of was if Cyn had been seen going to her studio. And she had – many times with Ellie. Another comfort to him that she had someone with her, to help her, now that Tash was gone.

  That was the one thing – the one gamble that he’d taken; whether she would give up on her dream again just because she’d lost him.

  The fact that she hadn’t was his only comfort in this purgatory.

  He tapped the chisel against his knee, staring up at the part of the sculpture that was still eluding him – the part of Cyn that was still eluding him: her face.

  It had been days now that he couldn’t continue. He saw her face in his dreams, but every time he tried to focus on it – the ethereal love that she showed when dancing – the Cyn in his mind pulled away from him just like she’d done when he told her that he didn’t love her.

  There were several times where he thought that he should just stop – move the statue over to the other side of the room and move on. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to sever the only thing he had left of her; the only thing of her that he could safely keep knowing he wouldn’t be able to hurt it.

  His stomach growled.

  When was the last time he’d eaten something? Lunch yesterday? Maybe?

  He stood up from the chair and looked around for his phone, spotting it on the couch. Just as he picked it up he heard a small knock on his door.

  He prayed it wasn’t her. He was in no condition to see Cyn like this. Hell, there was a significantly good chance that if he saw her again, he’d fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness.

  Walking over to the door, he pulled it open, stunned to see Ellie’s vibrant face on the other side.

  “Hey, Sloane,” she smiled up at him; her eyes softened in sadness taking in his disheveled appearance. “Mind if I come in? I brought some lunch.” She held up a bag from his favorite sub shop and his stomach grumbled again at the sight.

  “Ok,” he mumbled. But only for the food.

  “Oh, wow.” She gasped, pushing the bag at him and walking around him to stand and stare at the sculpture. “She is beautiful, Sloane.”

  He watched as Ellie gingerly touched the sculpture’s collarbone. She looked over her shoulder. “You’ve done an incredible job with this. And it looks like you are almost done.”

  He just laughed.

  “What?”

  “Almost is a relative word. I can’t get her face…” He trailed off, ripping into the sandwich; the first bite making him realize just how much his stomach was hurting.

  “Mmm.” He heard her murmur.

  He walked over to the couch and took a seat, setting the bag with the other hoagie in it next to him.

  “Did Tris send you here to check up on me?” he finally asked, knowing where this conversation was heading.

  “No.” She smiled. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I mean, I’ll tell him later, but no, he didn’t send me.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I wanted to check up on you.” His gaze narrowed on her. Ellie sighed. “I’m sure you know that I’ve spent a fair amount of time with Cyn over the past two weeks and seeing what she is going through made me concerned about you, especially when you didn’t come to see Morgan and Pierce before they left. Plus, Tristan said he hadn’t heard from you since you called and told him what happened with Natasha.”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled, finishing the last of the sandwich. “Don’t you want to eat?” He motioned towards the bag of food.

  Ellie shook her head. “They are both for you.”

  Of course, they are.

  “Well, I’m fine, so you can stop worrying.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Sloane, you’re not fine. You look like a homeless person who just ate a sandwich in a way that makes me think you can’t even remember when you last stopped suffering to eat.”

  This was not what he wanted to deal with.

  “What’s going o
n, Sloane? I refuse to leave until you tell me what happened with Cyn.” And with that, she plopped down on the stool in front of the sculpture and stared him down.

  “I don’t know what happened with her,” he bit out. “Everything happened with her; that’s the problem.”

  “She’s told me a little of what transpired between you, but she loves you, Sloane. Why would you want to push her away when it’s clear that you love her, too?”

  The pained tone of her voice killed him because with each day that had passed, he struggled to remember exactly what the answer to that question was.

  “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Sloane, but I think it’s a little too late for that. Why would you think that loving her is hurting her?”

  “Because I can’t control myself!” He yelled, his hand spearing through his hair as he saw Ellie visibly pull back at his outburst. “I’m sorry. I just can’t control myself around her and that’s exactly how my father was; he couldn’t control himself from sleeping with every woman he found and parading them right in front of my mom. I’d rather she hurt now and be able to move on, than get herself into a serious relationship with me where, if I hurt her at that point… I don’t even know what would happen.” He buried his face in his hands.

  He heard her stand and walk towards him, moving the bag to take a seat next to him on the couch.

  “Sloane, look at me.” He raised his tortured gaze to meet her emerald stare. “I’m not here to tell you what to do or yell at you for what you’ve done. I also don’t know everything about your past. However, over the past few months, I’ve come to know you and I know that you are not the same person around Cyn. For the first time since I met you, and more significantly, for the first time since Tristan has met you, we’ve seen you actually care about someone aside from us. I’ve seen the way you look at her and I know the look because I get it from Tristan every single day.” She sighed, propping her chin on her hand. “Like I said, I’ve come to know you and even though I don’t know your father, I can’t imagine you treating Cyn the way that he treated your mom. Think about how you’ve helped her grow from her past, did your dad do that for your mom? Think about how long you tried not to sleep with her.”