Final Cost (The Winter Trilogy #3)

4. Lucien

4

Lucien

Early that afternoon, I convene in my study with my younger brother, Roman, and my new criminal defense attorney, Grayson Stanwyck, the son of Stanwyck & Son law firm. His father was a great friend of my father and handled most of my family’s legal affairs. Still does. Gray, here, is an old school friend of mine and Roman’s who went into the criminal side of his father’s firm. We see each other at the club or the gym. We play polo together. I never thought I’d need him to save me from jail.

Times change.

It’s already been a long day and the afternoon has barely begun. I don’t have much more juice available to defend myself to these two. Who knew Gray was such a pit bull on the job? I’d much prefer a genteel discussion with his old man to this ongoing interrogation and their disapproving faces.

“You shouldn’t have talked to the police is all I’m saying, Lucien,” Gray says for roughly the tenth time. “That’s basic. I don’t understand what you were thinking. That’s what you pay the firm for. To run this kind of interference for you. Now you’re tied to the version of events you gave them.”

I scowl. “I wanted to know what happened to Ravenna. They wanted to know my whereabouts. I told them the truth and we exchanged information. End of story.”

Gray barks out an incredulous laugh. “The truth ? You’ve locked yourself into a timeline. And we don’t even know what time Ravenna died. You’re tying my hands here. I haven’t even had a chance to get started.”

I slump back in my desk chair and swivel so I can keep an eye out the window and on the driveway. Where there is a great but depressing view of the burned-out guest cottage but currently no sign of Tamsyn’s arrival. Even though I’d vehemently hoped she’d be here by now.

I’m hit with the sudden urge to drive my fist through said glass. Luckily, the thought of wasting the rest of the day in the ER getting stitches forces me to get my shit together. But it doesn’t make me any less eager to see Tamsyn again.

Shrugging irritably, I yank my attention away from the scene outside and try to focus on Gray. Roman, who’s sitting at the far end of the sofa and looking at me as though I’ve started using crayons to sign all my important documents, I ignore. “What do you want me to say?”

“Start with saying you’ll never do it again,” Gray says.

With that, I hit the limit of my patience. “It’s over,” I snap. “I did it. I shouldn’t have. It won’t happen again. Let’s move on.”

Gray looks flinty and skeptical, but thankfully lets it drop. “Great. Appreciate it.”

“Shifting gears, I think we should expect the police to?—”

I cut him off because there’s only one thing I give a shit about at the moment. “My girlfriend Tamsyn will also need an attorney if the police want to talk to her, which I assume they will,” I say, voicing one of my biggest concerns. I do not want her badgered or harassed. I want her protected. “Is there someone else at the firm who can represent her if push comes to shove?”

Roman sits up straight and raises his hand before Gray can answer. His look of bright innocence doesn’t fool me for a second. “I thought she was your former girlfriend…?”

Now is not the time for this clown and his needling. He’s spent a healthy portion of the last several days telling me I made the worst mistake of my life by letting Tamsyn go. I don’t want to hear it again now. “Shut the fuck up or get the fuck out.”

Having proved his point, Roman represses a smirk with difficulty, lowers his hand and eases back against the cushions.

“I have another partner for Tamsyn, sure.” Gray says. Thoughtful pause. “Forgive me for asking, but are you sure you know her well enough to know that she didn’t —”

That’s more than enough to get me flared up again. I lean in and point my finger across the desk at his face. “Listen to me,” I say around gritted teeth. “She had nothing to do with Ravenna’s death. She is above suspicion, so let’s get that straight. I want to make sure that she stays out of trouble —”

The sudden sound of a car outside the window behind me snaps me out of what was shaping up to be quite a tirade. I quickly look around, knocking over my desk clock in the process, and see the SUV pull up.

Thank fuck. It’s her .

Doors open. Tamsyn gets out.

I freeze, my heart lurching into overdrive.

She’s wearing one of her little summer dresses, something blue that skims her shoulders and makes me remember our time together in Monte Carlo. She’s pulled her sandy curls back into a ponytail. Her face is downturned and resolute behind her sunglasses as she grabs her purse and waits for Hank to retrieve her luggage from the trunk. Then she glances up at the house and heads toward the front door with all the enthusiasm of a dolphin swimming with a pod of orcas.

Oh, and the little necklace I gave her with the car charm? It’s gone. I assume she ripped it off her neck, spat on it and flushed it down the toilet at the first opportunity so she’d have no physical remnants of me. My mood sours even further.

I stand and crane my neck to keep her in sight for as long as possible, beyond caring about the audience behind me or whether she sees me watching her. Beyond pride or embarrassment. That’s how glad I am that she’s here—I can’t breathe with it. Yet I also feel as though I can finally breathe now that I’ve laid eyes on her again. As though my lungs only inflate fully when she’s somewhere nearby, and she carries all the keys and secrets to my existence in her purse with her.

My relief is so overpowering that I almost slip up and say what I’m thinking aloud:

Thank God she’s back. Thank God she came back.

I’m also glad she made things easy on me and came back voluntarily. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise—that Seal Team Six threat wasn’t as much of an exaggeration as it should have been—but I would have done it. Trust me when I say that.

Someone loudly clears their throat behind me. I turn away from the window, cheeks burning. “We need to wrap up this meeting. Are we done here?”

“We’re done,” Gray says, watching me with open speculation as he also stands and reaches across the desk to shake my hand. “We’ll stay in touch. And I’ll call Detective Smith to let her know I’m on the case and she shouldn’t have any more impromptu discussions with you without me.”

“And the lawyer for Tamsyn,” I remind him.

“Relax,” he says, shooting a startled sidelong glance at Roman. Neither of them seems to be a big fan of my vehemence where Tamsyn’s concerned, but I don’t give a fuck. “I told you. It’s under control. Relax .”

“Good man,” I say, nodding.

He leaves. I’m on the verge of following him and trying to intercept Tamsyn before she goes upstairs and retreats into her bedroom when Roman stands and comes over to stare me down with the kind of unblinking no nonsense look that Dad used to shoot us when we got into shenanigans. Like the time he caught the two of us and our partner in crime, Daniel, arriving back home after taking his Ferrari for an unauthorized spin.

I stiffen and wait.

“Do us all a favor, Lucien,” Roman says. “Get her back. You’re a mess without her.”

Heat rushes up my neck and over my cheeks until it burns the tips of my ears. I may be a mess without her, but it’s rude of him to notice and unforgiveable for him to mention it. I open my mouth to issue some sort of denial, but he cuts me off my clapping his hands to either side of my face. Hard.

“Spare me the denials,” he says with a flinty smile. “Neither one of us believe them.”

He walks off. I’ve never been so happy to see the back of anyone in my life. I have a couple seconds alone to get my thought together before Hank comes in trailed by Ted Winwood, another member of my security team, and Daniel Evans, my estate manager, lifelong friend and Ferrari-stealing accomplice. He grew up here at Ackerley and took over his father’s duties when he died.

I focus on Hank first. “Thanks for grabbing Tamsyn for me,” I say. “How is she?”

“You heard her on the phone,” he says with a rueful laugh. “She’s pissed. God help you.”

“Indeed.” I turn to Winwood because I want to get right to the point. “I want to know how Ravenna got onto the property the other night when she set the fire. What have you found out?”

“We’ve been over this, sir,” Winwood says. “As I told you —”

“Drop the sir bullshit and tell me again,” I say. “You didn’t see any sign of Ravenna when you swept the grounds that night?”

“No,” Winwood says, calm and unblinking. He’s his usual sincere and professional ex-military self, but what else would he say if he wants to keep his job with me but knows he dropped the ball and let Ravenna back onto my property after I’d banned her and he was in charge that night? “I checked the grounds personally. You saw me. We checked the video feeds in the office. Someone had eyes on the cameras at all times. There was no sign of her.”

“So how the fuck did she get back on the grounds?” I say. “Teleportation? Parachute drop? She got here somehow. Check the feeds again. The police are going to want to see them. They’re probably getting a warrant for them as we speak. I want to know what they show before we hand them over.”

Got it,” Winwood says with a crisp nod.

“Get to it,” I say, jerking my head toward the study door.

“Sir,” he says, military bearing in full effect as he pivots and walks off.

I turn to Hank and Daniel, both of whom have been here longer than Winwood. “I’m not sure I trust him,” I say, lowering my voice and staring after the departing Winwood. “I want you to oversee the review of the video feeds, Hank. Keep an eye on him.”

Hank looks startled. “I’ll do what I can, but he’s the technical guy.”

“Just do it,” I tell him.

“You got it,” he says, also walking off.

Daniel opens his mouth but hesitates.

“What?” I say.

He shakes his head, frowning. “I’ve been kicking myself for not mentioning this sooner. I’m not trying to get anyone fired. I want you to know that.”

“But…?”

“But why was I the one who found Ravenna the night she came back? If Winwood and his team are so well trained and highly qualified, why did they miss all signs of her? I only stumbled on her because I was checking on the boats in the storm.”

I nod. He’s not telling me anything I haven’t thought of myself. It’s another reason I want Hank to keep an eye on Winwood. “Got it. Thanks.” I start to walk off, but the look on Daniel’s face stops me. He looks like he’s struggling with something major. Something he doesn’t want to tell me. “What else?”

He blows out a breath. “I saw Winwood talking to Ravenna the other day before you kicked her out. They seemed a little, ah, friendly.”

I stiffen even though this information does not surprise me in the slightest. I should have known. Daniel has had my back my whole life, Like the time he gave he the heads-up that one of our teammates on our middle school soccer team—this was back before Roman and I went to boarding school and Daniel went to the local high school—tried to make moves on my little girlfriend. I put the kibosh on that and Daniel earned my heartfelt gratitude. As for Ravenna? Let’s just say it never took her very long to zero in on a handsome man in the group. She was as predictable as death and taxes. “Where was this?”

“I saw them pass each other in the driveway,” Daniel says, frowning at the memory. “She was on her way to the guest cottage, I think.”

“What were they talking about?”

“I was too far away to hear. I hate to be the bearer of this kind of news.”

“Don’t worry about it. I appreciate your loyalty,” I say, clapping him on the back and quickly walking out. I can’t shove this Ravenna bullshit out of my mind fast enough. I’m dying to see Tamsyn.

I head for the staircase. She’s probably up in her yellow bedroom, barricading the door against me so she doesn’t have to deal with me. Which is exactly what I deserve after the way I treated her. But a few steps up, I hear the mellow sound of her voice and a tinkle of laughter.

Dining room. Lunch buffet.

I recalibrate and pivot, going back down and straight across the foyer to the dining room.

That’s when my nerves stall out. I pause on the threshold, staying out of her line of sight and giving myself a beat or two to soak her in and think of something to say as she smiles after the departing chef and helps herself to a plate.

Everything inside me aches with longing at the sight of her.

Her spine is straight, her shoulders squared and her head held high. I have no idea how this twenty-two-year-old is so strong and self-possessed, but she is. She doesn’t look heartbroken or even mildly upset about our breakup. She looks fine. She also smells fantastic, with a liberal spritzing of the lily of the valley perfume I bought her back in Monte Carlo. The scent torments me. I want to bury my face in her neck and get drunk off it. Maybe she wore it as a nice fuck you to me. I’ll give her the win on that one if she did. It’s damn effective.

I miss you, Tamsyn. I want you. I need you.

It’s all right there. Trapped behind the wall I built between us.

I clear my throat, startling her. “Ms. Scott.”

She pauses in her careful selection of chicken breasts for her salad to spare me a quick sidelong glance that barely touches my face. “Lucien.”

“You came.”

She shrugs, moving along the sideboard to the salad dressings and picking one to drizzle. “Like you said, I can’t impose on Mrs. Hooper. She’s trying to sell her brownstone and doesn’t need the commotion—oh, look, chocolate chip cookies today. Perfect .”

I hesitate, frowning. I didn’t expect her to greet me with open arms, of course, but I also didn’t expect this… this… cool indifference. Where is her hurt? Her anger? Was I that effective at killing her feelings for me?

“So…” I choose my words carefully, determined not to rock any boats. She came back. She isn’t trying to beat me about the head and neck with a fireplace poker and calling me a heartless monster. That’s winning in my book. “This is okay?”

“It’s fine.” She helps herself to silverware and a linen napkin, looking politely puzzled by the question as she heads for the staircase. “Ackerley is a big estate. Plenty of room for me to stay out of your hair.”

“What happened to your necklace?” The ridiculousness of the question isn’t lost on me as I bark the words out, but I don’t let that stop me. In a world that’s caving in around me, the missing trinket I gave Tamsyn isn’t exactly the biggest issue. But the naked notch between her collarbones where the little car charm used to rest is as jarring as the Louvre with a faded patch on the wall where the Mona Lisa once hung.

The question seems to startle her. “I’m not wearing it.”

“I know. That’s why I asked.”

I don’t mean for my words to sound so harsh. Nor do I mean to act like an asshole. What can I say? Some things just come naturally to me at the worst possible times.

“I’m happy to give it back,” she says. “I should have given it to you when I gave back your mother’s diamond studs.”

“I don’t want it back.”

A shrug of absolute indifference. A dagger straight through my heart. “Suit yourself,” she says, and she’s off. Leaving me staring after her with a gaping wound in my chest and a growing knot in my gut.

Don’t let her go says that persistent voice in my head. The one that only speaks when I’m in danger of fucking things up with her. “Tamsyn…”

She hesitates, presenting me with her pretty profile over the sweet curve of her shoulder, not looking at me and not bothering to hide her rising impatience. She’s more interested in eating her lunch than she is in occupying the same room with me. I am reaping what I have sown. And I’m choking on it. So there I am. With my dick in my hand and no idea what to say to her, or even where to begin.

“Maybe we should talk,” I finally say.

Her brows go up. “Talk?”

“Yes, talk .”

“About what, pray tell?”

The question of the day. I wouldn’t know where to start. With me thanking her for coming? Begging her for forgiveness? Assuring her that I had nothing to do with Ravenna’s death? My shot clock is winding down to double zero and all I’ve got is an empty head with no strategy and a crater inside me where her love used to fill me up. “How are you?”

A flicker of scorn crosses her expression. “Never better. And there’s nothing to talk about. You’ve already said it all.”

And there goes my buzzer. She turns and walks off without another word.