Chapter 17

LOUIS

The limp had largely disappeared. There was still a faint twinge in my knee if I bent too quickly or walked for too long, but it wasn't enough to draw notice. Not that I could even afford to draw attention to myself. At least not here and especially not in his presence.

Work had become weirdly rhythmic at Allure. Every morning, I traversed the revolving glass doors of the casino with practiced coolness, moving through crisply dressed floor managers and security guards with a confidence that made me really proud of myself.

I was changing out of my normal clothes when Abigail, in her wild fashion decided to come at that moment.

“Hey stranger,” her chirpy voice rung out from behind me. I turned to look at her.

“Good evening, Abigail,” I replied and continued what I was doing.

“You know,” she continued. “It’s very rude to leave people hanging especially when they’re just trying to be nice to you.”

I let out a heavy sigh.

“What do you really want, Abigail?” I had to know, because I can’t believe that she just wants to be my friend.

Everyone around me always had an ulterior motive.

“Woah, woah, woah,” she said, getting up and raising her two hands up—the universal sign of surrender. “Not everyone who comes around you wants something from you, Louis. Maybe I just want to be friends.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, right,” I muttered.

She looked at me for a long while after that and slowly put her hand down.

“When I tried approaching you,” she started. “Our co-workers were like ‘oh, don’t talk to him. He’s uptight’ But I said no, and came here anyway. Truly you are that and more of what they said.”

I let out a laugh. “I’m not trying to beat the allegations, Abigail.”

With a bitter smile and a nod, she walked out of the room, leaving me there with a few other co-workers who were changing.

I wasn’t even supposed to be here due to my new position, but alas, habits never changed, I guess.

I took a deep breath and wore my work outfit before heading out to the lion’s den.

The weirdest thing was that ever since I said yes to his job offer, I've not seen Elias Montgomery for the past three days.

And then I did.

He walked in like a storm rolled up in tight black, two of his men behind him. His auburn hair wore a fresh cut today and the few streaks of white I could see stirred things in me I didn’t want to acknowledge.

He headed toward me, interrupting the work I was currently carrying out. "You're limping less," he said.

I blinked. "Yeah. It's healing."

He regarded me with eyes that were too intense to be comfortable. The man was always watching. Always measuring. But there was something else there as well—something softer hiding in the depths of his eyes.

Or maybe I’d finally gone mad.

"You weren't at the front today," he said.

I cleared my throat, trying to dodge the question hiding behind the statement. "I was doing inventory checks downstairs."

There was a heavy, long silence that stretched between us, filled with unspoken words before he stepped closer and leaned in.

"You're doing great," he said quietly, his voice dipping lower. "They have taken a liking to you."

I had no clue who "they" were exactly, but I nodded anyway. My throat dry. My heart betrayed me with its recalcitrant, arrhythmic beats.

He was close now. Too close.

I caught the faintest whiff of cologne on his collar, something expensive yet subtle, like spiced smoke and winter air. My shoulder bumped against the wall. I hadn't even realized I was backing away until I had nowhere else to go.

Elias didn't touch me. He didn't have to. He stood so close I could practically feel his breath on my lips.

And mine? I could feel my breath coming out in short, shallow puffs. Everything around us melted into meaningless haze—the neon sheen of the casino floor, the low murmur of people, even time itself seemed to slow down at that very moment.

We didn't kiss.

But my God, I wished we did.

My eyes fluttered shut—only for a moment but that was when he suddenly stepped back. A wall slamming down where a connection had once hovered.

"This—" he said, voice colder now, as he gestured between us, "—should never repeat itself again."

I squeezed my eyes tighter in embarrassment and when I opened them, he’d already moved halfway down the hallway, his broad shoulders tense with restrained fury. Or something else. I couldn’t tell.

He didn't look back and neither did I.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, I returned home to quiet. The door groaned open with its familiar protest, the light above the hallway flashing once before dropping into darkness.

There were no shoes at the door. No full ashtray. No cursing echoing down the thin walls.

My father hadn't returned in days.

I should have been worried. But instead, I was… relieved. Grateful, even. And that made me feel guilty.

But a voice inside of me, one that I didn’t want to listen to, told me perhaps, perhaps he was not coming back. I did not want to hold onto that hope. Hope was dangerous, the start of disappointment, and I had tasted enough of that to know better.

I showered and ate some barely toasted bread after which I flopped on my bed, staring at the ceiling with the imprint of Elias's breath on my lips like a ghost that I could not shake.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I stop thinking about a man I should be afraid of?

And worse, why did part of me crave the intimacy again? It didn’t make sense. What I am is an abnormality, one he definitely would never tolerate.

But for some reason, he moved closer to you first.

True, but it had to be for a different reason. He can’t actually like… men. He can’t like me.

Stupid, weak Louis incapable of standing up to his father. Who would ever like a wimp like me?

I was just so pathetic.

But still, I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. About his presence. His eyes. His voice. The maelstrom of him.

I turned over, curling into the thin sheets. I closed my eyes, hoping for sleep.

But all I could hear were his last words to me: This should never repeat itself again.