Chapter 3

Charli

"You know you can't leave him," Patrick said as he squeezed my knee. "I can tell you're upset. I don't know what he did, but you simply can't. It's not allowed."

I twisted the stem of the wine glass, the red liquid swirling within the globe. Thankfully, Cy wasn't home and it was just Patrick and I. "Thanks for letting me borrow your gym shorts and t-shirt."

He laughed. "Besides the fact that you kind of look like they're swallowing you whole, you look cute. I don't often get to see a beautiful woman wearing my clothes."

I looked up through my damp lashes as his words tugged my lips into a small smile. "Beautiful? Yeah, I feel gorgeous right now."

"Well, you've got the too-big clothes going for you, plus the red blotchy thing and puffy eyes. A little snot as you sniffle. Little cousin, you're dazzling."

I sighed. "Can I just stay here for a day or two and figure things out?"

"You know you can. I don't even need to ask Cy. You're always welcome, but what about your apartment?"

My shoulders moved up and down. "I told Chelsea she could stay there. She's flying from California at the end of this week. I hate to get all settled only to have her displace me. Besides, I feel like I'd be on display there."

"Display?"

"It's a security thing. I'm kind of over it."

Pat leaned back against the couch. "I had a good feeling seeing you with Lennox. Besides, you have that whole one-week history..." He fingered the rim of his wine glass, and I tried to ignore how it reminded me of my martini glass only hours before. "I'm sure you can work through this."

"He has my number."

"If these were normal circumstances, I'd tell you to forget all about him. I mean, who needs someone like Lennox Demetri? I can only imagine it'd be awful to have a boyfriend who redecorates a room for you, practically weeks after you move in. One who cares enough about your dreams to pay for your education and buy you whatever you want or need, one who gives you the ability to tell Uncle Alton and Aunt Adelaide to stick their conditions up their tight asses. And girl, his looks. Damn, nobody wants to put up with those sexy blue eyes. I mean the way they light up when you walk into a room and he looks at you like he'd eat you whole. I can see how that would get old fast." He took a drink of his wine. "Honestly, I'm not sure how you managed to stay for this long." He shrugged. "There's always good ole Bryce."

I sat forward, put my wine glass on the coffee table, and after placing my elbows on my knees, cradled my head. "I don't need Bryce. Why do I need a man?"

"If you don't know the answer to that question, my opinion of Lennox Demetri has just plummeted. I mean, I'm sure you have a vibrator."

I sighed. The thought of the purple shaft tore at my heart. I looked up. "Pat, I should get some sleep. I have class early in the morning, and I'm sure you've got work."

Setting his wine glass next to mine, he reached for my hand and turned it over. With his other hand, he gently touched my wrist. Unknowingly, I gasped and sucked my upper lip between my teeth as his fingers caressed my tender skin.

Suddenly all playfulness was gone from his expression. "Did he hurt you?"

I pulled my hand free. "No."

"Alex, this is something totally different. I mean, the agreement has one out, and if your wrist is bruised." He stood. "If that bastard—”

"Stop, Pat. Nox didn't hurt me."

"You what..." he asked incredulously, “…ran into a wall? Maybe you tripped?"

"No. None of those things. You're wrong."

He shook his head. "When you first got here, I thought you were mad. You weren't mad. You were scared. You're scared of him, aren't you?"

Am I?

"No," I said sitting taller. "I'm not. He didn't hurt me, not physically. It's about trust." I stood, picked up my wine glass, took a long sip, and paced to the windows. With my back toward him, I asked, "How much does Cy know about you?"

I almost heard him shrug. "He knows me better than anyone."

I turned. "Does he know what the girls said about you at academy?"

"That I'm great in bed?" he asked with a smirk.

"That you used them. All you wanted to do was get in their pants and move on."

"It doesn't take your friend Chelsea with a psychology degree to figure out that I was in denial."

"That's what I mean. Does Cy know about you?"

"We've talked. He's older. It was tough for him to come out too." Patrick shrugged. "He doesn't talk about it much, but he was married, to a woman," he added.

"Did they have children?"

"No. It didn't last very long. You don't know what it's like...”

My chest grew tight, listening to him discuss his own struggles both as a teenager and a young adult. We were pretty close in our young teens, yet I didn't know. It was but another shadow that lurked the hallways of Montague Manor, dancing in the darkness around the Fitzgeralds. Despite Patrick's insecurities, he always appeared the opposite: cocky and self-assured.

I settled back onto the sofa.

When he was done, he asked, "Did you never suspect?"

I nodded. "I did. I remember hating the things other girls said about you. With our age difference, I usually heard secondhand rumors, but it never seemed like the Patrick Richardson they described was my Pat."

He smiled a weary smile. "I always loved you."

"Past tense?"

"No. I mean when it was just the two of us, I didn't feel the need to overcompensate. We existed in our own world whether at Montague Manor or at my house." He shrugged. "It wasn't as if our parents gave a rat's ass what we did, as long as we didn't interrupt whatever they were doing." A smile grew on his face, causing his cheeks to rise. "The only one who knew what we were up to was Jane."

The mention of her name loosened the boa constrictor I'd had wrapped around my chest and I grinned.

"The best part of my childhood," I said with a sigh. "She's still at the manor."

"Really? I would've thought after you moved away..."

"I get the feeling she takes care of Momma."

"That's good. Aunt Adelaide needs someone in her corner." His gaze narrowed. "Speaking of running into walls, I remember more than once when she'd been pretty clumsy." He nodded his head toward my wrists. "I don't want the same for you."

Indignation rose. "Neither do I. Don't worry about that. Nox would never—”

"I don't know him that well," he interrupted. "But I do know Spence. I never understood why you dated him for so long."

Maybe it was the wine or my crying, but I didn't understand the connection. "What do you mean? We were young."

"But you've never really liked him."

My shoulders sank. "I did...like him...as a friend. When we were young, other than you, he was the only one I ever saw, the only person close to my age. I was surrounded by stuffy adults. Jane was my nanny and playmate, but it wasn't the same as being around kids. Since Momma and Suzanna were so close, Bryce was there a lot."

He nodded. "I remember being thrilled when we'd go to your place and he wasn't there. I think I even asked my mom once if he lived there."

"See? He was my best friend."

"Until he was your boyfriend."

The thought churned the wine in my stomach. Bryce was my best friend. Isn't that what a lover should be? Nox and I had never been friends. Maybe that was why I was able to walk away today, or was it yesterday? I picked up my phone lying upon the table. I swiped the screen to the clock—after midnight—and the icon that displayed missed calls.

I sucked in my breath. I'd had the ringer off. I'd told Nox the ball was in his court, and then I wasn't there when he lobbed it back.

I hit the small icon. Two missed calls—Deloris and Bryce.

The boa squeezed tighter. Nox hadn't tried to call.

A tear escaped my eye as I brushed it away.

I would call Deloris tomorrow...and Bryce?

What should I say? Hey, Bryce, I got your letter and it worked. I left Lennox. According to you, I'm safe. However, that's only true if death by broken heart wasn't possible.

I looked up to Patrick's expectant expression. "Tell me he called. He did, didn't he?"

My head moved from side to side. "Not him, his..." What was Deloris? "...assistant called."

"Oh, yes. A woman—she said her name was Witt—called while you were changing clothes. I'm so sorry I forgot."

"She called you?"

"Yes, she wanted to be sure you were here."

I sighed and leaned back. "It's suffocating, the driver-slash-bodyguard constant surveillance. I hate it."

Ignoring my pleas to retire, Patrick poured more wine into our glasses. "I'd guess it has to do with his wife."

"What?"

"What?" His eyes opened wide as he shifted on the couch. It was like Christmas-time secrets all over again. "You mean you're assigned to someone like Lennox Demetri and you didn't G****e that shit?"

"I...we...we promised we'd learn about each other from each other."

"And so he told you about the hit?"

The hit?

My heartbeat quickened, the rapid rhythm chasing away the constricting snake. "No...I mean...we haven't discussed."

"Oh, there are fascinating theories. See the thing is, no one knows for sure. It was all very hush-hush."

"I'm not sure..."

His countenance fell. "Okay, I won't say any more, but if Mr. Sexy is overly worried about your safety, from what I gathered, he has reason."

"I don't know."

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "I can't believe you've been with him for all this time and you don't know."

"Pat, you're killing me. I want to know. I do. But it's this thing we have. I mean, I wouldn't want him Googling me."

"Little cousin, you're boring."

"Hey!"

"I mean, sure, you're all heiress and shit, but come on...I grew up with you. That house of horrors was real, but you survived. Millions of people have had childhoods not even as bad as yours and not come out nearly as unscathed."

"Do I seem unscathed?"

"No," he replied, "you seem battered and a little bruised."

When his eyes went back to my wrists, I let out an exasperated sigh. "Not abuse, kink, and...well..." I felt the rush of crimson fill my cheeks. "...I like it. Now drop it."

"My! We need more wine."

"No. I need to go to bed."

"Since this heart-to-heart is about to end, let me tell you what I've observed."

My entire body relaxed as I emptied my glass and laid my head back on the top of the couch. "Fine. Hurry because I'm about to pass out."

"Whatever Lennox Demetri did to upset you." I heard his eyebrows wiggle. "And now that I know about some preferences, I'm less concerned and more intrigued. But I digress. Whatever he did to upset you hasn't altered your feelings for him. You've defended him at every turn. I mean, I have heart-stopping information that may or may not be accurate and you'd rather abide by a promise than hear me out.

"Going back to him isn't optional. He owns you for a year. The fact that he allowed you this temper tantrum shows me that he's an all-right guy. He could've refused to allow you to leave."

I opened my eyes and lifted my gaze. "And what, Pat, tie me to the bed?"

"Whoa," he lifted his hand. "I'm still coming to terms with my little cousin and kink. I don't want any more details."

"You know what I mean."

"Literally, no. Figuratively, yes."

Before I could speak, he went on.

"Here's one more observation. For some reason, Spence—Bryce holds a part of your heart. Maybe it's because for a rich, spoiled princess, your childhood was pretty sucky and you associate him with the better-than-awful parts."

I wanted to protest Patrick's description of me as well as a few other parts of his statement, but he lifted his hand again.

"My point is that I was only one year ahead of Spence at the academy. You may not know this, but I threatened his ass when you two started dating."

It was my turn for my eyes to open wide. "You did?"

"I did. He was jacking off his mouth about you, about things I wanted to believe weren't true."

My stomach turned. We never did anything. What the hell was he saying?

"I told him that you deserved respect and gave him a nice, long list of easy lays. I told him that if he ever hurt you, I'd hurt him."

My face scrunched in disbelief. "You told him to screw other girls but not to hurt me? That doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't now, but it did then. My mom told me about the charges pending in Evanston. I know Uncle Alton is throwing money at it left and right, but I wasn't the only one who had a reputation at the academy. From what I heard, Spence liked it rougher than kink. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised that he got carried away and beat the shit out of that girl."

There were too many parts to his statement to dissect each one. "He had a reputation? Before he dated me?"

"While. Little cousin, all those girls were my cover. You were his." He shook his head. "I'm not saying he's gay. I'm saying his preferences don't make for his Carmichael-Spencer reputation. If you ask me, from all you've said, that's what he wants back. The thing is, I never thought of you as a spoiled princess, maybe because I saw the inside of your castle. Now him..." Patrick shrugged. "...I never understood it. Spence walked around Montague like the royal son, when in reality, he was nothing more than a pauper."

"The Carmichaels—”

"Weren't the Montagues. Hell, they weren't even the Fitzgeralds."

I shook my head.

"For some reason, Spence had, correction, has, entitlement perfected. If you ask me, you or I should be the ones entitled. Instead, we're the ones signing our companionship away for a year at a time and he's back in Savannah crying in his milk, wanting more."

I stood and this time I took my wine glass to the kitchen and set it in the sink. When I returned to the living room, Pat was still sitting on the couch staring into space. I walked close and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you. Thank you for always being there for me. Not just now, but always."

He reached out and secured my hand. Turning it over he gently traced the faint bruise on my wrist. "You trust him."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway.

"I don't know what's going on in that pretty head of yours, but trust is something that should be difficult to earn and way too easy to lose. Once it's lost, regaining it is difficult. Spence may have earned it when he was three, but little cousin, if you knew all I do, you'd never put it in his grasp again."

"But with the rumors about Lennox's wife..." I almost stopped my question. "...you'd let him have it?"

Patrick shrugged. "It's not mine to give. But from the look of your wrist, you've given it. Do you really want to take it away?"

Do I?

The boa was back.

"Good night, Pat."