CHAPTER NINETEEN #3
Mimi seems to be choosing her battles. ‘I have a radio then? Please? Me and Mari need to know you’re safe.’
Lachlan gives her a single handset locked into one frequency.
Blaire will make sure she’s not using it constantly.
‘All right, honey. Daddy’s gotta go now, OK? Love you.’
‘Love you, Daddy.’
Blaire emerges from the en-suite as dressed down as Lachlan ever sees her in a big, oversized tee and shorts with knee high socks. Her jet-black waves are longer now, falling just past her shoulders. Her grassy green eyes catch the light. She’s so beautiful.
Lachlan doesn’t know what’s wrong with him for not wanting her that way, but he’s not going to dwell on it. Tonight is the party and tomorrow is Jules’ actual birthday.
‘OK, goodnight, girls,’ he says, scanning the room before leaving it, hears Blaire asking Mimi what book she wants to read and Mimi is making Blaire guess. Lachlan knows it’ll be Beauty and the Beast.
It’s one of her absolute favourites right now.
He leaves them securely in the Cove and then performs a full check of the East Wing before he’s satisfied. ‘Control, this is Kestrel,’ he says, touching his earpiece lightly. ‘Status check?’
‘Eight bells, Kestrel.’
‘I’m en route to Whiskey Reach. Do you have eyes on Cascade?’
‘Confirmed eyes on, Kestrel. He’s dancing with Dreadnought.’
‘Heard.’
The ballroom is much easier to navigate with seventy-six people in attendance versus three hundred, but even so, Lachlan won’t let himself get comfortable for a second.
He finds Jules and sets in to shadow him, blending with the crowd.
Savannah is dancing with Alistair. Roman is dancing with Ariadne.
Vasily is watching from the side, pretending not to stare at Lachlan.
Jules dances with Mikhail Sorrenko. The boy is a talented dancer, Lachlan saw it in the club, sees it now. He’s fluid, moves with the rhythm well.
He’s nineteen tomorrow.
Jules is technically already an adult but here it means nothing because his trust won’t be unlocked until he’s twenty-one, by which time Alistair will have some new prison to lock him up in, marriage most likely.
Lachlan’s going to stop it.
Get these kids free.
But for now, it’s far off and he has time to plan.
His current focus is keeping Jules safe.
Mimi checks in after twenty minutes, uses her own little codename which is adorable. ‘Myna to Kestrel, Myna to Kestrel,’ she calls, very professional, she mimics him so well. ‘Come in, Kestrel. Are you safe?’
Lachlan allows himself a small smile as he answers. ‘Kestrel to Myna, I’m safe, eight kisses. How’s Bee?’
‘Bee’s letting me watch a very old movie called the Boo Bird.’
‘Do you mean Blue Bird?’
‘Yes, that was a test. Good job, Kestrel.’
‘Thanks, Myna. Enjoy your movie.’
‘Be very safe, Kestrel.’
Lachlan refocuses on Jules.
Six dances later, Jules circulates with Alistair, meeting and greeting, accepting congratulatory kisses and touches for his birthday. Lachlan wonders what kind of party Jules would like, given the choice.
Nothing like this, that’s for sure.
Mimi radios twice more and then Blaire confirms she fell asleep halfway through the movie and says goodnight to him. Lachlan says it back, tells her to sleep well.
Then he looks up and Jules is gone.
‘Control, where is Cascade?’
‘Kestrel, be advised Cascade is in the main restroom.’
Respectfully, Lachlan waits outside until Jules emerges, face slightly damp. Lachlan’s gaze drops to his wrist, sees a faint red mark there, knows he’s been pressing.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ He sounds so tired already.
Lachlan looks behind him, but no one else emerges and Sorrenko is still on the dancefloor with Alistair and their inner circle. ‘Are you sure?’
Jules rolls his eyes. ‘I’m fine, Bodyguard. Let’s go.’
That’s the thing with Jules, it’s not really a lie to say he’s fine because even when severely struggling, he is still fine. He’s flawlessly functional, operates well no matter what’s happening beneath the surface.
It’s just that Lachlan wants more for him than fine.
Another two hours crawl by before Jules, for reasons Lachlan can only guess at, decides to get truly drunk.
Not that anyone stops him. Champagne flows endlessly beneath the ballroom dome, glasses constantly pressed into his hands by guests eager for his attention, and Alistair certainly doesn’t discourage it.
If anything, he seems to prefer Jules a little softened at the edges, all glittering smiles and lowered inhibitions beneath the lights.
Lachlan can’t intervene, but he wishes he could.
Roman comes over and Lachlan greets him warmly, shakes his hand.
‘Good to see you, Ro.’
‘You know,’ the boy says, cocking his head happily, ‘you are the only one who calls me that.’
‘You called me Lock.’
‘It felt right.’
‘So does Ro.’
Roman nods at the dancefloor. ‘Do you give him a nickname?’
‘Jules.’
‘It’s not much of a nickname.’
‘It’s what he chose.’
‘And Jessamine is Mimi. This must mean I’ve been adopted into your little family, huh?’ the older boy teases, drinks champagne. ‘Lock it is, then.’
Lachlan changes the subject. ‘How’s things?’
‘Things,’ the oldest Sorrenko boy muses, his joy ebbing, ‘are as they should be. Father has me working hard to take over when my time is right. Much publicity, all building towards twenty-one,’ he says, accented as always, but his tone has dulled.
‘I suppose he has to give blood tomorrow,’ he says, gesturing towards Jules.
Lachlan frowns. ‘Give blood?’
‘He’s nineteen now. Or maybe old man Alistair takes it before, I don’t know. My father started when I was nineteen.’ Roman looks at him, blinks. ‘Oh, you didn’t know.’ He claps Lachlan’s shoulder. ‘Well. You will find out tomorrow.’
He walks away and Lachlan’s mind goes into overdrive.
Give blood.
Give blood for what? To whom?
At around three AM, Jules has hit the point of no return, so Lachlan guides him into the Staff Only restroom he had re-opened for Jules, helps him onto his knees and rubs his back when he violently throws up in the toilet.
Lachlan has no qualms with stuff like this, once had to crawl through vomit and not make a sound, so he’s fairly immune.
‘Get it all up, there we go,’ he says, taking the opportunity to check in. ‘Control, this is Kestrel. Give me Echo Bay checks with eyes on Shimmer.’ He mentally counts the beats in between his command and the answer. Usually it gets to around five seconds before an answer is given.
‘Eight bells, Kestrel. Eyes on confirmed.’
Jules spits the last of it and then heaves a huge, mournful sigh.
‘Sorry,’ he croaks, which is not like him at all.
‘You’re fine.’
‘S’gross.’
‘Nah, you’re all good.’
‘No.’ Jules is shaky and disoriented. ‘I’m not. I’m bad. So bad.’
Lachlan allows himself a tiny eyeroll the kid won’t see. ‘Nope, you’re good as gold and absolutely fine. Why don’t you sit on the—?’
‘I want you to do it,’ he whispers, pivoting slightly to get Lachlan in his sights. Lachlan’s customary refusal is poised to fall off his tongue when Jules adds, ‘I’m scared of needles, but not knives. You do it for me?’
‘What?’
‘Tomorrow. The blood. You could do it for me, right? I don’t mind if it’s you but not a needle please,’ Jules whines, eyes screwed up tight. ‘I hate them.’
‘Are you giving blood tomorrow?’ Lachlan asks, holding his shoulder to balance him when Jules starts to slide left. ‘Jules, answer me. Are you—?’
‘Why’d you call me that?’
‘Call you what?’
‘Sweetheart.’ He opens his eyes. ‘You called me sweetheart the night of the attack. Remember?’
Lachlan doesn’t. He’s confident he hasn’t ever called Jules that, not least because Jules would likely slap him for doing so. ‘I don’t think I said that.’
Jules darkens all over.
‘You said, point and shoot these fuckers in the head. You said, you can do this, sweetheart, for Mimi. And then you said, please.’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘Well I do, and I can’t stop thinking about it.’
Lachlan sighs. ‘Jules, come on.’
‘Come on what?’ He’s belligerent when drunk in a weirdly soft way, like an angry tide.
‘You call Mimi every beautiful name under the sun, you call Roman Ro, and Blaire is Bee. I see how you look at them, Bodyguard. You light up when they come near you and me? You just get this look on your face like… oh God, here he comes. I know you hate me, I know that, but then why did you call me sweetheart?’
It’s a mistake to correct the kid in any way, despite Jules pushing for it.
Lachlan knows he has to walk this line very carefully.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You thought we were gonna die and you decided to be nice just once?’
‘That’s not fair and I didn’t think we were—’
‘I shot them for you! I could care less if I died, don’t you get that?
I did it for you! To keep you alive, and you called me sweetheart.
I’ve been trying so hard, Bodyguard. Do you have any idea how difficult it is seeing you every minute of the day?
You never leave, you live with me and I…
’ He sobs weakly, tears rolling down his face.
‘I’m trying to get over it, but you make it so hard. ’
‘Get over what?’
Jules looks up at him.
No one else has ever looked at Lachlan this way, not once in his whole life. It’s the inexorable nature of gravity and the dark earth in which secret things are buried. He’s fire and water, always at war with himself, this boy.
Lachlan feels caught in a way he’s not sure he could ever get free of.
The kid says, ‘You,’ and nothing more.