CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
‘I expected better of you. His management does not only extend to his safety as you are well aware. My son has ridden roughshod over you,’ he tells Lachlan, moving closer, ‘and you have obliged him.’
Lachlan doesn’t react. Says nothing.
Alistair returns to his desk.
‘I will decide appropriate punishments later. For now, get out of my sight.’
?
The whole way back to the East Wing, Jules throws nervous looks at Lachlan. When they’re finally alone in his bedroom, he wheels around so fast Lachlan almost stumbles backwards.
‘You have to make him change his mind.’
Lachlan gives him a very flat look. ‘No one on earth makes your father change his mind, Jules.’
‘You can. He likes you. Go back, please. Show him you can punish me, hit me, hurt me, I don’t care. Just—’
‘Why did you do it?’ Lachlan asks, shaking his head.
Jules’ cheeks fill with red. ‘I didn’t know he’d do that!’
‘Why risk it at all? For fuck’s sake, I know you’re unhappy and I know you hate me, but things were better, weren’t they?’
‘I just…’ Jules’ composure buckles. His honey-coloured eyes fill with tears.
‘I wanted… oh God, I didn’t mean for him to take up residence here!
It’s bad enough when he stays for a few days!
He’ll host parties and I’ll have to go to every single one!
Mimi will have to go. Please.’ He grabs Lachlan’s arm. ‘Please, do something.’
Lachlan’s never seen him so scared.
‘If I could, then I would, but I can’t. He’s furious with me. I’ll be lucky not to end up in cinders with my predecessors,’ he mutters darkly, trying to think but there’s nothing he can do, nothing to be done.
‘What does that mean?’
Lachlan ignores him, a new dread filling every formerly sunny crevice. Mimi will hate it. Two months at least.
Two full months.
He’s so angry with Jules, he could smack him, but he won’t.
‘This is gonna be hell.’
‘I never thought he’d do that! He hates being here.’ Jules sounds so young. ‘I’ll do anything you say. Please, Lachlan.’
‘Oh, I’m “Lachlan” now, am I?’
‘You’re the only one he likes.’
‘He had me whipped raw. He doesn’t like me and even if he did, I’m staff. Just tell me why you did it.’
‘I can’t survive two months, I can’t.’
‘Why did you do it?’
The boy blurts out, ‘I thought he’d make you hit me!’
‘What is wrong with you that you wanted that?’
‘Because you’d feel guilty! You…’ Jules’ breath snags hard, catches on something sharp, and he stumbles slightly, balance lost. ‘You’d be… I… I just.’
‘Press your wrist.’
‘No, no, oh God… I… what have I done?’
‘Jules, press your wrist.’
Lachlan moves him to his bed, sits him there and crouches in front of him. He guides Jules’ fingers to the inside of his wrist but doesn’t apply the pressure. ‘You can make it stop, come on.’
‘He’s gonna host parties here all s-summer.’
‘Press for me.’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can, it’s easy.’
‘No. I can’t.’ He looks at Lachlan, eyes wet.
Lachlan’s never seen such horror in a person outside of torture.
‘I can’t do this. Mimi… oh my God.’ His voice cracks.
‘No, no, no, we can fix it. Please. Take me back, show him you have me under control. Do whatever you need to, whatever you want, I’ll cry if you—’
Lachlan presses the point, massages it.
Jules’ voice crackles apart beneath the immediate sway of relief.
‘It’s all gonna be OK,’ Lachlan tells him. ‘Just breathe. Nice and slow.’
‘I’d rather die than have him here,’ the kid sobs.
‘I want you to count the rings in a cut-down tree.’
Jules looks up. ‘What?’
‘It’s a trick I do sometimes. You start outside and count in. Count the rings in a cut-down tree. One. Two. Three. But not out loud. Can you try it for me?’
Jules says nothing.
Lachlan keeps massaging the pressure point.
Eventually, Jules exhales shakily. ‘What are we gonna do?’
‘We’ll get through it.’
‘How?’
‘If you behave, maybe he’ll—’ Lachlan cuts himself off, knows the old man won’t change his mind. He was angry, which means he already set things in motion. ‘We just have to learn from it, OK?’
‘Learn what?’
‘That your father is always here even when he’s not. And whatever you were trying to get me to do, it wasn’t worth this.’
Jules stares at him. ‘I just wanted you to be nice to me.’
‘I am nice.’
‘Not like how you were after you hit me.’
Lachlan shakes his head, speaks low. ‘That’s fucked up, Jules.’
‘I’m fucked up.’
‘You’ll outgrow it.’ Lachlan takes his pulse. ‘Doing better.’
‘Promise me you’ll protect her.’
‘I always do.’
‘The parties… it means people will stay here for weeks.’
‘I know what it means and I know what my job is. Maybe before you decide to brat out again, you could spare a second to think about your little sister.’
It’s grossly unfair and a weight no child should have to carry, but here in this place, the rules are what Alistair Penhalyx decides.
Bodies never leave.
The law does not set foot here.
There are no police. No saviours.
Only one bodyguard.
And the children he’s sworn to protect.
Jules says nothing else and Lachlan gets up to leave.
At the door he says, ‘It’s gonna be OK.’
It marks one of the few times he lies to Jules.