Chapter 22 Elowyn
ELOWYN
Arap on the door tears me from my daydreaming.
“Miss Montgomery?” Mary calls from the hall. She doesn’t enter without asking anymore, at Duncan’s new request. I suspect she’s more relieved by that than I am. “I have your lunch. May I come in?”
As well as we’ve been getting along lately, I don’t want Mary or anyone else in our bedroom.
I want Duncan, and he won’t be home for hours. He’s delivering the last project he worked on in person.
I know he had to go, but still. This place, my life, and even my loose jeans and T-shirt—none of it feels right without him.
It’s only been a little over a week since I moved into his room, and I’m already spoiled.
It’s all his fault. This man hasn’t just given me his heart.
He’s given me everything. Breakfast in bed, shared showers, sex everywhere in the house with the cameras off, and Mary and Herbert dismissed for the day.
Long walks along the Hudson River, we’ve had that and so much more than I could’ve ever expected.
During the few hours Duncan’s had to work, he’s asked me to sit beside him. I haven’t hesitated once before saying yes. He always smiles wide at my response.
He smiles even wider when I show up there empty-handed, no book or distraction in sight.
Why would I need any? The hottest man alive happens to be my soulmate. I’ll never miss out on a chance to watch his skilled fingers flex around a paintbrush. Or the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he concentrates on applying a varnish just right.
His intensity bleeds into everything he does. It’s intoxicating.
Other than our happy moments, sharing our painful past has been a big part of our lives. When I ask him to tell me about the years we spent apart, my soul splits down the middle. His loneliness, his struggles, his heartache, I absorb it all, hurting alongside him.
And Duncan, he’s my rock, there to catch me when I fall. When I break down and apologize over and over for disappointing him, he just strokes my hair, pulls me close, and won’t let me say another I’m sorry, reminding me none of it was ever my fault.
“You’re here now, little moon. That’s all that matters. All I’ve ever wanted.”
He’s all I’ve ever wanted too.
I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. My parents always put the family as a whole first. Barclay, aside from the one time he saved me, mostly cared about himself. I had friends, but our relationships barely skimmed the surface.
Now, the man I chose chooses me just as fiercely.
So no, I can’t be blamed for staring out the window, waiting, hoping he’ll magically come home early.
While Mary’s out there, waiting for you?
“Oh my God,” I whisper to myself, turning to the door. “Yes, come in.”
She does, her eyes lighting up the moment they land on me.
“What?” I ask as a smile tugs at my lips.
“You know, I was going to ask if you were okay.” Mary sets down the tray on the end table between the two armchairs. “After being cooped up here for two hours and all.”
The water glass goes over a coaster. Silverware is set next to the plate, which is filled with filet and steamed vegetables.
She straightens once she’s arranged everything in its place.
“Thank you.” Though I’m not hungry, I sit on the chair Duncan bent me over this morning. Unfortunately, it doesn’t smell of sex anymore. “But?”
“But you look well,” she says like a proud parent would. “Really well, Miss Montgomery. Both of you do.”
I’m about to thank her again when Herbert knocks on the open door, a phone in his hand.
“Miss Montgomery.” He presses his hand to the receiver. “A phone call. For you.”
This isn’t Duncan. Herbert wouldn’t have said a phone call if that were the case. He’d have announced it was Mr. Rourke.
Dread lines the pit of my stomach. “W-Who is it?”
“Your brother,” Herbert says quietly, away from the phone.
My face goes numb. My tongue grows heavy.
He’s found me. Somehow, Barclay’s done it.
How?
Duncan assured me he couldn’t. That Duncan’s cell and landline numbers aren’t listed anywhere. The number on the invitation was a burner that I shredded and deleted.
This address, the fact that Duncan lives here, that’s another secret.
Except…nothing is truly a secret when you have friends in high places.
How many of those Barclay still has, I couldn’t say. He doesn’t talk about them.
Yes, when I run errands in town, people look straight through me like I don’t exist. That doesn’t mean they’ve cut ties with Barclay. Just that they won’t be seen with either of us.
Finding out The Restorer’s identity is just the beginning.
Hurt or not, my brother will retaliate.
Oh no. No.
“Miss Montgomery.” Herbert’s expression twists from formal into one of remorse. It’s as if he’s mad at himself for coming up here in the first place, now that he realizes his mistake. “I’ll tell him you’re unavailable. That Mr. Rourke will return his call later.”
“It’s a good idea.” Mary edges closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. Concern rolls off her in waves. “We should wait for him to come home.”
Duncan would be able to take care of this for me easily. He’s powerful enough, enraged enough, to handle our problem.
In fact, I’m sure I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Wouldn’t have to be subjected to any more abuse from Barclay ever again.
Which is why the old me would’ve agreed in a heartbeat. She’d tremble at the thought of hearing the disappointment in her brother’s voice. Would hand over her agency, hide behind other people.
Thing is, that version of me is dying, slowly but surely.
Duncan’s love slays my monsters one hug, kiss, and affirmation at a time. More importantly, he’s taught me that no one gets to dim my light.
No one. Including myself.
“It’s okay.” I pat Mary’s hand and stand up. Herbert frowns. “I’ll take the call.”
“Miss Montgomery,” Mary urges, her tone alarmed. “You’re pale. Hang up, Herbert. He’ll wait.”
“Yes, I—”
Rolling my shoulders back, I tell both of them, “I’m fine.”
Herbert gives me a meaningful stare as I walk toward him.
Mary’s right behind me until she takes her place next to Herbert, her forehead creased. “We could stay here. If you need us.”
“I appreciate it.” I outstretch my hand. Mary’s face falls before I get to say, “But no.”
“Okay, then.” Herbert gives me a firm nod before handing over the phone. “We’ll be right outside. Anything at all…”
Since his hand is no longer on the receiver, and Barclay’s able to hear us, I return Herbert’s nod.
They drift to the hall, the door clicking shut behind them.
Deep breath.
“Barclay?”
“Sis,” he hisses, poison drenching his voice. “I knew it. You goddamn fucking whore. I warned you—no, ordered you—not to take that so-called job.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” I snap instead of coiling, my blood heating. “You have no right.”
“And you have no right to sell your body. You’re a disgrace to this family.”
“Disgrace to what?” I can’t believe I’m fighting back.
I’ve been apologizing for my mere existence for years.
I guess deep down, I’ve always known being a doormat was wrong.
“There’s nothing left of our family name.
Even if there were, I’m not doing anything wrong.
This is where I belong. I love it here. Besides, I’m helping you, aren’t I?
Why can’t you be happy for me? Why can’t you be grateful for once? ”
“Grateful? What for?” His derisive laugh is terrifying. I won’t flinch, even if he can’t see me. “My sister turning into my former best friend’s whore? No, Elly, I won’t be grateful. Not when you sold your body to a lowlife who happened to stumble on some money. He’s not one of us.”
The last of my dread transforms into fiery hate. I don’t care how Barclay knows The Restorer is Duncan. I don’t care about any-fucking-thing other than defending my love.
Duncan doesn’t need me to do that. He wouldn’t want me talking to my brother at all.
Tough luck.
I’m doing it anyway.
“Shut up, Barclay,” I whisper, stalking to the other side of the room. “He’s not a lowlife. And I already told you, there’s no us.”
I’m not done, though. Barclay is going to get an earful from me, but Herbert and Mary shouldn’t hear any of it. This is between him and me.
“Once a lowlife,” Barclay has the audacity to hum. “Always a lowlife.”
One to talk, Barclay. Bedridden and miserable because you could never, ever, get your shit together.
I could say that to him. Accuse him of dragging both of us into this mess. Something only a lowlife would do.
But then the conversation would revolve around my brother.
Absolutely not.
This is about me forcing him to back off. To stop saying these demeaning things about Duncan.
“This man you’re talking about.” My fingers curl on the windowsill, knuckles turning white. “He’s footing the bill for your nurses, your pain meds, your goddamn healthcare—”
“Language, Sis,” he cuts me off, tone condescending. “And give me a break. We were fine before you whored yourself out. We would’ve been better still if you’d married any of the men I tried to set you up with. Decent men. Old money, like us.”
“There’s no us.” I’m burning up. Lungs, throat, my skin. “I’m my own person. I don’t even care about money. New, old, it means nothing to me. And you… I don’t answer to you anymore. Don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth when you were the one who tore Duncan and me apart.”
“I was taking care of you. Protecting you from getting attached to the wrong kind of person. As I said, he’s a lowlife.”
“As I said, shut up. He wasn’t a lowlife when we were in high school, and he isn’t one now.” Good thing I didn’t have lunch. I would’ve thrown up, I’m so angry. “He wasn’t your bodyguard or the scholarship kid either. He was Duncan. He was perfect. And…”
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
“And…?”
Mocking me doesn’t hurt anymore. I just need this conversation to end.
“I love him.”
My eyes slam shut at the intensity of the moment. At saying those words that have been etched into my soul for over a decade. I feel this emotion, love, everywhere.
“I love him,” I repeat, my conviction stronger this time. Fiercer. “So take the money and stay away from us. Just leave us alone.”
I hover my finger over the end button when I hear him. “This isn’t over, Sis.”
“Yes, it is,” I growl and hang up.