Shit. Isaac took a deep breath, wishing—wishing for so many things. But most of all, wishing he could speak the way this man did. With confidence, with eloquence, with surety. Every word precise and powerful. Because there was nothing Isaac could say to make Keynes seem even close to wrong.
“I need to speak to her," he finally, foolishly said. “I made a mistake. And I want to tell her that.”
“I see. Well, Montgomery, here’s the thing: you say my sister is a grown woman. You’re correct. She is intelligent and capable and accomplished, and I am proud of her. But she is also in love with you. Lizzie would happily lay down and die for the people she loves. And the thing is—I see no evidence that you are worth her devotion. None whatsoever. So this is how it will happen: you will put the phone down. I will delete this call. I will block your number from her phone—not that you’ll ever contact her again. Because if you do, Montgomery, you will find yourself in difficulties of the kind you have never even imagined. There’s more than one underworld in London, you see. And mine is much better funded than yours. Do we have an understanding?”
Isaac stared at nothing, his mind churning. Keynes waited silently for an answer—no, for submission.
He could keep fucking waiting. Isaac ended the call.
He stood for a moment, imagining the look that might be on Keynes’s face right now. Thinking about the fact that the other man probably thought he’d won. That Isaac was intimidated by his threats, so familiar and yet so strange. That Isaac was giving up.
And perhaps Keynes’s speech might have worked. Perhaps Isaac might have agreed, might have left Lizzie alone, might have accepted that the differences between them, and all that had happened, meant they could never work.
But in the face of the other man's anger, Isaac realised something.
He admired it. He admired Keynes. And more than that, he admired Lizzie for protecting her brother just as fiercely.
When he was a teenager, Isaac had broken the law. He'd done it again and again, with no remorse, because he'd had to. He saw his mother fading faster than a woman her age should, watched her work three jobs to put food on the table, and he'd just fucking had to.
Sometimes, the wrong choice was the only choice that made sense.
"Isaac, I’m falling in love you."
He'd rejected the love of a woman who'd do anything for those she cared about. He'd told her she wasn't good enough, for fuck's sake.
Some people—people who'd never sinned a day in their lives—might have the right to be so high and fucking mighty.
He didn't have that right, and he didn't want it. Because he was just like her. And she was just like him.
Isaac turned, marching back towards the hotel.
Let Keynes block his number. Didn’t matter. Isaac made another call as he walked, and Jane picked up after the first ring.
“What’s up?” She barked.
“Need information.”
“And you called me? Darling. I’m flattered.”
Isaac jogged up the steps to the hotel’s entrance, grim determination on his face. "I know you know everything.”
“Just what a lady loves to hear. What do you need?”
“Lizzie and her brother. Keynes. They’re in London.” He took a deep breath. "Find out where.”
Twenty-Five
“Were you on the phone?” Lizzie asked, emerging from her bedroom. “I thought I heard you talking.”
Olu sat with the paper propped over his knee, his arms spread wide as he read the broadsheet. Why he still read paper news, she had no idea. “Just Theo checking in,” he murmured absently.
“Oh, wonderful! Will they be here soon?”
A knock sounded at the door. For a second, Olu became unnaturally still, every muscle in his body freezing. But then, like a computer getting over a glitch, he swung smoothly back into motion, folding the paper with sharp flicks of his wrist. “They’re here now,” he said.
Lizzie frowned slightly. Perhaps she was imagining it, but her brother seemed slightly… on edge.
But her confusion was pushed aside almost immediately, replaced by anticipation. The others were here. The plan was in motion. And of course Olu was on edge; he must be so nervous. But it was her job to support him now. They were in this together.
He strode into the hall to answer the door and Lizzie followed, her socked feet practically bouncing with every step. She was wearing her pyjamas despite the fact that it was only mid-afternoon, and she hadn’t re-done her hair since yesterday. For some reason, she simply hadn’t had the energy to make herself presentable since… Well. Since everything. She felt safer now that she and Olu were together, but that didn’t help with her other problem. The problem she’d rather die than articulate.
I held something precious in the palm of my hand. Now it lies shattered on the ground, and I’m the one who threw it.
It was embarrassing, this feeling of utter hopelessness in the face of what should be happy moments. And it was even more embarrassing when Olu opened the front door to reveal a group of familiar and unfamiliar faces, all grinning.
She was not dressed for visitors, Lizzie realised at once. Not at all.
But no-one seemed to notice that as they streamed into the hall, sharing greetings and hugs.
Theo led the way, pulling Keynes into a huge bearhug. “It’s been a bloody century!” He cried.
Yen followed, and her familiar smile soothed some of the discomfort in Lizzie’s chest. It was only Yen, only Theo. They didn’t care about all that. The Chamberlain household had been like an alien planet to Lizzie and Olu during childhood. The Chamberlains didn’t have a dress code. They didn’t insult each other's appearance. They ate breakfast in their slippers, for goodness’ sake!
“Lizzie,” Yen gushed. “How nice to see you!” And she sounded like she meant it. Her smile warm, she drew Lizzie in for a hug.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
And tears filled Lizzie’s eyes as she realised that she’d missed Yen too.
“I brought cake,” the younger woman added, pulling back. “And you must meet Jennifer! And Aria!”
“Oh,” Lizzie nodded, blinking rapidly. Because the tears in her eyes could not spill over, especially not while she was introduced to Theo’s future wife.
The men appeared to have finished their hug, which had gone on for rather a long time, involved gentle swearing, and turned slightly violent towards the end. They were now clapping each other jovially on the back as they faced the rest of the group.
“Keynes, Lizzie,” Theo said. “This is Jenny. My fiancé.” He stepped forward to grasp the hand of one of the women who stood awkwardly by the door, a polite smile on her face. She was strikingly beautiful, with dark skin and elegantly arranged hair that Lizzie quite envied. Her dress and coat were subdued in style, but the way they fit her generous frame caught the eye.
“Jennifer,” she corrected, giving Theo a long-suffering look. And as she turned her head slightly, the light flashed off of the scars on the right side of her face; a scattering of teardrops that almost looked like decoration. But then she gave a little wave, and Lizzie’s curiosity was immediately set aside by the sight of her ring. It was bloody enormous.
“And this is Aria,” Theo said, putting an arm around the woman on his other side.
Aria… Ah. The maid of honour.
Her appearance matched her handwriting: bold, intense, and apparently unbothered. She was tall and statuesque, taking up a hell of a lot of space with both her body and the sheer force of her personality, which practically vibrated around her. Her long, dark hair emphasised her high cheekbones and kohl-lined eyes. A plethora of silver piercings stood out brightly against her brown skin, hoops sparkling in her nose and eyebrow. And as she unbuttoned her long coat in the heat of the hallway, Lizzie saw a maze of jet-black tattoos snaking their way across the other woman’s shoulders. She was… an unusual character.
Then she grinned and said, “You got my note,
yeah?” And for absolutely no reason at all, Lizzie liked her at once.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I did.”
“Nice one.” The woman turned to Keynes. “And did you get my texts? Cuz you’ve been airing me.”
“Calm yourself, woman. I called you down here, didn’t I?” Lizzie blinked at the easy familiarity in her brother’s tone. He and Aria were friends?
Then Olu stepped forward and pulled both Aria and Jennifer into a warm hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you two in person,” he said. “Come in.”
They all made their way into the living room, everyone chattering about the journey, the traffic in London, the weather. Lizzie floated in the midst of it all, vaguely disorientated. So many voices, so much happiness. The flat was warmer than ever with the combined energy of all this bloody good cheer.
And she stood apart from it all. Watching through glass, trapped by something the others couldn’t even see. Sorry I'm so quiet; I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I might never be happy again.
God, that was dramatic. At least, she hoped it was dramatic. But right now it felt like the truth.
“Hey,” Yen murmured, nudging her gently. “You okay?”
Lizzie looked up, startled. “Yeah. Just a bit overwhelmed, I suppose.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be like old times. When we were kids.” Yen tucked the dark waterfall of her hair behind one ear. It immediately slid forward again, and she rolled her eyes. The familiar tick made Lizzie relax, just a little bit. Dragged her out of regret and into the moment, if only for an instant.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I suppose it will.”
“You want cake? I brought lemon tart. Jenny loves it. I think Theo left it by the door—” She moved to fetch it, but Lizzie held up a staying hand.
“No cake for me.”
“What?! You love cake. Don’t tell me you’re on a diet.”
“Not exactly,” Lizzie hedged.
“What are you two muttering about over there?” Olu called. “Come and sit down. We’re holding a war council.”
“Oooh,” Aria grinned. “I like that. Please, tell us: who do we need to destroy?”
“You’re so bloodthirsty,” Jennifer muttered, rolling her eyes. Aria elbowed her in the ribs. But the women shared a gleam in their brown eyes as they bickered, one that spoke of years of teasing and laughter. It reminded Lizzie of the Spencer girls, bringing a sad smile to her face as she moved to sit beside Olu.
“Right,” he began, his voice firm. He sounded like their father when he spoke this way. Authority rang through his every word. “I called you all because I need… Well. Truthfully, I don’t need anything. But I want your support.”
The little gathering quieted immediately, solemnity falling on the group. Theo sprawled in the room’s only armchair as if he owned it, and his voice was a drawl when he asked, “But really, Keynes: who do we need to destroy?” His casual posturing did nothing to hide the concern in his dark eyes.
Olu shook his head. “Before we get into that, there’s something I want to share with you all.” His words were strong and sure, without a moment’s hesitation. “I’m gay.”
There was a moment of silence, as if the air itself was absorbing that information. And then the room erupted all at once.
It took a moment for Lizzie to realise that the eruption was one of happiness.
“Oh, Keynes!” Jennifer cried.
Yen grinned, clapping her hands like a schoolgirl.
Aria crossed the room to clap Olu firmly on the back. “I’m kind of flattered to be including in your grand coming out,” she winked.
Olu rolled his eyes. “Well, since you dragged yourself along…”
“You invited me, you cheeky fucker!” But she was laughing through her mock-outrage.
Then Theo stood too, and held out a hand. Lizzie watched in confusion as her brother rose, his face serious. The two men shook firmly, as if closing a business deal—but then Theo pulled Olu into a hug.
Lizzie shared a look with Yen, who appeared equally baffled. Maybe this was some kind of manly emotional ritual. Whatever it was, when the best friends separated they were both smiling widely.
“Thank you,” Theo said softly. “For telling us.”
Olu nodded, swallowing hard.
“We should talk later. Okay?”
“Alright.” The men shared a long look full of nuances Lizzie couldn’t begin to understood. But she knew that her brother looked truly happy, truly relaxed, for the first time in…
Well. A long time.
Maybe ever.
“Well, then,” Jennifer said, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “Should we get back to the death and destruction?”
“Oh, I’m bloodthirsty?” Aria scoffed.
“There will be no death,” Olu, said, drawing the attention back to him. “But things are about to change for me. For us.” He shot Lizzie a smile. “I am about to lose my inheritance. I’m aware that I’ve had the luxury of avoiding real life for some time. I won’t be able to do that for long. And I might need help while I figure out how to… Navigate normality.”
“You know we will always help you,” Yen said softly. “We’re family.”
Lizzie looked around the room and saw that sentiment echoed in every face, both the familiar and the new. And as her brother began to tell share the details of Mark’s plot with everyone, Lizzie realised that Yen was more right than she knew.
This. This was what family meant.
Twenty-Six
It took almost three hours to drive from the Midlands to the capital. So of course, they stayed the night.
Despite the malice that had brought them all together, it was a happy evening. It would be the happiest in Lizzie’s memory, in fact. If it weren’t for the time she’d spent at Charmonix-Mailet.
It was strange, she thought, arming herself for battle the next morning. She hadn’t even spent a night with Isaac—had known him for mere weeks. And yet, the beautiful fragments of whatever they had been formed a moonlit mosaic in Lizzie’s mind. One that would stand out amongst the staid tapestry of her life forever.
But this wasn’t the time for such thoughts. This was the time for utter invulnerability.
Her parents demanded nothing less.
Lizzie noted down her breakfast, her dosage, her blood sugar for the morning, pausing to admire the growing uniformity of her numbers. Once the measurements had been so sporadic, and wildly unpredictable when she did record them. She’d resented her body, resented its reliance on anything other than her own force of will. But that was a foolish attitude. She could see that now, as clearly as she could see the positive changes her care was causing.
Yes, her illness was exhausting. Yes, she wished she could eat without thought, dance without pause, leave the house without checking and double-checking that she had her insulin.
But when she got things right, it was rewarding. So rewarding. And today, of all days, Lizzie needed all the positivity she could get.
“Ready, Liz?”
She looked up to find Olu at her door, leaning against the frame. He looked charming in his checked suit, an emerald pocket square matching his eyes. She was similarly overdressed in her pastel twin set. And this time, she’d remembered the pearls.
It wouldn’t help. They both knew that. Nothing would help.
But still she smiled and set her journal aside and said, “Ready.”
The rest of the house was quiet. Jen and Theo were in the spare room while Yen and Aria bedded down in the lounge like children at a sleepover. But the Olusegun-Keynes household rose bright and early, thank you very much. So Lizzie and Olu left the flat for the winter-bright, grey-tinged sunshine of a London morning, holding hands as they went. Like Hansel and Gretel.
Off into the woods…
The room was warm. Its walls were red as blood, shot through with gold, and the curtains upholstery matched. The effect was unsettling, to say the least, but that was what Mother had intended when
choosing the decor.
Despite the unmistakable fact that this visit was unwelcome—this was Mother’s least favourite parlour—tea was set out on the table before them. Or rather, between them. Lizzie and Olu sat on one side of the room. And opposite them sat the enemy.
Their parents.
It was barely 10 A.M., but Mother was dressed beautifully. Far better than Lizzie. The woman could barely hold herself back from saying so, Lizzie knew; her ice-blue eyes ran over Lizzie’s figure with thinly veiled disgust.
Father, for his part, seemed annoyed that they were in the same room at all.
“Lizzie,” Mother said, her voice sickeningly sweet. Which meant that an insult was coming. “What on earth is the matter, dear? You’re absolutely huge.”
“It’s true, Elizabeth,” Father said, crossing his legs. He looked at her seriously. “Are you in disgrace?”
Lizzie jolted. “I beg your pardon, Father?”
“Are you pregnant, child?”
“No!” She felt Olu’s warning hand come to rest on her shoulder. Careful. Control. Because their mother would take vicious advantage, should Lizzie come undone. “No,” she said again, disguising her outrage with a delicate laugh. “Certainly not. I have gained some weight—”
“At least three stone,” her mother sniffed.
“I don’t think it matters,” Olu cut in, his tone firm. “We’ve come to talk to you about something serious.”
“You know,” Mother murmured, “my friend showed me something the other day.” Her voice was soft. Her gaze was sharp. “A girl in the papers, cavorting with a criminal abroad. Quite scandalous. She said that the girl resembled you, Lizzie, but I told her that she was mistaken of course. Only now that I see how your figure has… Increased,” she said, lowering her voice on the final word as if it were a curse. “Well! I understand her confusion.”
Undone by the Ex-Con: A BWWM Romance (Just for Him Book 2) Page 21