Chapter 2
2
T he same tumultuous body of water that stole the man I love now mocks my pathetic existence beyond the windows. I’m hollowed out as I stare at the sea. Minutes bleed together, forcing me through the hours like a forgotten ghost haunting the penthouse floor. Maybe I am an apparition. Spirits don’t eat or sleep, and I haven’t done much of either since I found out Sebastian’s plane went down somewhere over the ocean.
Ghosts don’t breathe, either, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder if this pain will vanish if I just…stop breathing.
The morbid notion makes me gasp, and I inhale two quick breaths before letting them out in a slow exhale.
There’s a Sebastian-sized hole in my chest, yet my stupid heart keeps beating for him. My mutinous brain won’t let go either, replaying our last phone call, tethering me to the phantom echo of his voice.
“Remember when you told me you’d never break, not for me or anyone?”
“I remember.”
“Promise you’ll stay strong, no matter what.”
“I’ll be strong when you get home.”
“Novalee,” he warns. “Promise me.”
“I’ll stay strong…as long as you promise to come back to me.”
“I promise, princess. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
I guess we both lied.
Because he’s not here.
And I’m not strong.
The door creaks open, shattering my destructive musings, and Selma steps inside with a tray.
“Good afternoon, my queen.” Liam’s housekeeper sets my lunch on the table in front of me, her smile exuding warmth. “I hope you have an appetite. The chancellor won’t be happy that you didn’t eat breakfast.”
“Where is he today?” I ask, increasingly aware of his dwindling patience for my despondency. Each time he brings me food or tries to coax me into some semblance of myself, the worry etched on his face chips away at my defenses. He hasn’t breached my walls yet, but knowing him, it’s only a matter of time before he busts through.
“The legacy members arrived this morning.” Selma lifts the lid off a silver platter of gourmet lunch offerings. “Chancellor Castle is in a meeting with them now.”
My back stiffens. “A meeting about what?”
A furrow tugs at her brows. “That’s a question for the chancellor when he returns.” She exits the room before I can press her further.
I glance at the artisan sandwich and salad I have no intention of eating. A hunger pang tears through my gut, but the idea of putting food into my mouth, let alone swallowing it, makes me nauseous.
Letting out a sigh, I pick up my fork, knowing Liam will be upset if I don’t at least make an effort. I take a nibble, my gaze drifting to the sea, soothed by the faint sound of waves breaking against the rocky cliffs.
At some point, he returns, and I realize the sky has deepened to a dull gray. Fresh snowfall blots out the late afternoon sun, casting my quarters in shadow. Disoriented and confused, I glance around the room, once again wondering how time passed by without me.
Liam settles into the chair on the other side of the table, where my lunch sits untouched between us. Wait… barely touched, since one corner of the sandwich has a bite missing. I don’t remember eating it, so it’s probably safe to assume I sampled the salad, too.
“You’re still not eating.” He crosses his muscular arms, a preamble to the battle he’s about to wage.
“I tried.” With a gesture at the evidence of the bite I’d taken, I add, “No one else has been here to touch it.”
At least…I don’t think anyone has. Did I nod off in my seat? It would be a miracle if I had, since every time I close my eyes, I see Sebastian the way I left him in Los Angeles over a week ago.
Two weeks ago?
However many the days, he was alive , and he was mine .
With a sigh, Liam runs a hand over the unkempt scruff shadowing his jaw. “You can’t go on like this.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I fiddle with the useless fork on my plate. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to try .”
When I fail to respond, an uncomfortable stillness fills the air.
“The legacy members are here,” he says.
“Selma told me.” I give him a pointed look. “Though she wouldn’t tell me why.”
His fingers tap an irritating dance across the table. “You know why.”
Stubbornly, I shake my head. The why is unbearable.
“The auction must go on,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes fall shut. “And with Tatum and Sebastian gone?—”
“Stop.”
Please, I can’t do this.
His hooded gaze promises harsh truths, making me squirm in my seat.
“What will it take to get through to you? Because I’m at a loss.” Agitated, he runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the deep copper strands. “I’ve tried giving you space to grieve, stood as your rock when you needed it, but you’ve been impossible to reach. Everyone’s worried sick.”
“Who?” I ask, absently stabbing a piece of wilted lettuce with my fork.
“Landon and Elise, Vance, Ford, Faye…”
“She called?”
He raises a brow. “She spoke to you over the phone. Do you not remember?”
I shrug again, lacking the energy needed to explain how I sort of do, but I can’t recall a single detail of the conversation—just like I can’t remember what Landon and Elise said when they came to check on me.
“Novalee…” He trails off, releasing a heavy breath. “This isn’t healthy. I know you’re overwhelmed with grief, and rightfully so, but refusing to accept what happened will only make it harder for you to heal.” He pauses, his words hanging in the air between us. “He’s gone.”
“If he’s gone,” I spit out, emphasizing each word, “then so am I.”
His complexion drains of color. “What are you trying to say?”
“I-I don’t know,” I stammer, my words tinged with a blend of anger and sorrow. “I just…I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“But you are here, and pretending otherwise won’t change what’s coming, because we still have an auction to face.” Liam leans in, forehead creased as our eyes lock. “Everything has changed. I’m brainstorming another plan with Landon, but I need you to try. Your transition into the House of Capricorn is tomorrow .”
“I don’t care about tomorrow,” I say through gritted teeth.
Liam drags a hand down his face. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, there’s something else we need to address.”
“Something else?” I scoff, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Is the collapse of my world only a minor inconvenience to be dealt with later?”
He blinks, taken aback by my snark. “Of course not.”
“Then what could be more important?”
“The Brotherhood is hosting a special dinner in honor of the legacy members tonight.”
“So?”
“Your presence is required.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Too bad.” He stands to his full height, arms crossed, his posture immovable. “Dinner’s in an hour. You need to shower and dress properly.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“You don’t have a choice.” With one swift motion, he pulls me from the chair and hauls me over his shoulder, drawing a startled squeal.
“Put me down!” I shout, thrashing against his solid grip.
Ignoring my protests, he strides into my private bathroom, turns on the shower head, and sets me on my feet.
“Can you stop fighting me for once?” Frustration cuts through the question, but then his voice softens. “Let me take care of you.”
We stand close, chests brushing against each other as the air thickens, and in a dizzying moment, I surrender.
“Okay.”
“Good girl.” He lifts the hem of my silk nightgown, and the last of my resistance melts away. I’m held captive as he slips it from my body, discarding it on the floor.
With a silent apology in his gaze, Liam sinks to his knees and hooks his fingers into my panties. His touch is gentle, warm knuckles gliding down my thighs as he strips me bare.
Something dormant and undeniably wrong stirs.
My breath catches.
His does, too.
“Novalee…” he whispers, his irises the color of burnished wood.
It’s still there, that pull between us, battling the stormy waters of devastation, grasping for a lifeline as he regards me with love, support, and compassion.
God help me, but his desire sparks the smallest of flames in the most hidden part of myself.
Since Los Angeles, he’s been by my side, worrying over the meals I refuse to eat, swallowing his disappointment at the untouched sketchbook he left on my nightstand, and sleeping in my bed to keep the nightmares at bay.
And yet, this growing closeness feels like a betrayal.
A sickening one.
The tension snaps when Liam rises to his feet, and I track the deliberate slide of his fingers as he unbuttons his shirt. Fabric falls to the floor, followed by his pants. I can’t help but gawk at his sculpted arms, the sharp definition of his abs. Every detail is carved with raw, masculine beauty.
“Get in the shower,” he says, his tone thick with an emotion I can’t quite place.
As I step under the warm spray, I sense him reaching for my plumeria-infused soap. With patience, he washes me, his hands tracing over curves and dipping into valleys, pausing at the back of each knee. The brush of his touch exudes tender intimacy, transporting me back to another time, another shower, another man.
The pain returns full force, spreading through my chest until I can’t breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to stifle a whimper, but it escapes.
“You’re safe with me, my sweet girl.” The warmth of his voice almost fractures my protective barrier. Tears burn, threatening to drag me from my mental fortress.
“Don’t make me cry.”
“I’m not trying to.” He frames my damp cheeks, his features weighed down by fear. “But you’re slipping further away, and I’m scared of losing you.”
Water cascades over us, droplets pouring down my face, some of them salty on my trembling lips.
“I can’t,” I say, barely audible above the sound of the shower. “If I start crying again, I won’t stop. I don’t want Vance to drug me.”
Liam takes me into his arms, and though he doesn’t say anything in response, his silence speaks volumes. He needs me to hold it together.
But I don’t know if I can.
“I miss him so much.”
“I know.” He grips the back of my head, pulling me closer. “He loved you.” A thick gulp travels down his throat. “Sebastian wouldn’t want you to suffer like this.”
Flinching at the mention of his name, I drown in waves of memories, from the fiery arguments to the passionate moments that now make my chest tighten. His voice drifts through my head with a vividness I hope never abandons me.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
I’d responded without hesitation that day in the elevator, after Landon and Elise’s wedding, with my knees against the gritty floor. I can almost feel Sebastian behind me, holding me by the neck as he drove himself into my ass. The memory should launch me into a black hole of shame, but I’d never experienced such raw passion and desperation until then.
I’m terrified I won’t ever feel that way again.
He’s gone.
I shake my head, casting out the rebellious thought, but a sob bursts free anyway. Liam’s arms tighten around me, giving me the sanctuary I need right now, but as I lean into him, my heart breaks under the burden of betrayal. Another sob escapes, and I will the dam not to bust open.
“This is killing me,” he chokes out. “You don’t have to suffer alone. I’m here. You’ll always have my heart and soul.”
“I know.” I hold on to him with all that’s left of me.
I’m not sure how long we stand under the spray, but at some point, the water begins to cool, the hot stream giving way to icy drops that feel like pins and needles on my skin. Liam releases me, and then I’m standing outside the shower, tucked inside a soft towel as my feet sink into a plush bathmat.
He tugs on his slacks before grabbing the rest of his clothing. “Can I count on you to get ready for dinner?”
All I can do is nod, my throat too constricted.
“Good girl,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’ll wait for you in the sitting room.”