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“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Someone in the house calls his name, but he doesn’t make a move to go to them.
“I should have killed you when I met you. It would be easier than this,” he states. The way his eyes lock onto mine makes me feel like he wants to say more.
“Easier than what?” I ask as my brows pull together.
His words make no damn sense.
“It’s time for you to go, Chanel.” He nods to where my brother and Merci are waiting for me with a driver. “Your brother has also been fired, but another job is waiting for him,” he says as I step out the door.
“Why?” I ask.
Lucas doesn’t have to do this. If anything, he shouldn’t be doing this.
“I assumed this would make you happy.” He licks his bottom lip, and despite everything, I wonder what it tastes like.
“That wasn’t the question I asked. I asked why?”
He does that—deflects.
“He’s no longer needed.”
“Is it because your father is dead?” He flinches at my words but doesn’t answer. “I would do it again. I want you to know that, Lucas. I do not for one-second regret killing that vile man.”
“And what of me? If he is vile, what of me?” He steps closer, his eyes looking directly into mine. “I am his son. I was raised by him. Everything I learned was because of him.” He says the words to me not in anger, but more like he wants to justify them to me.
But I can’t accept that.
I won’t.
What he did was deceitful.
Atrocious.
Appalling.
He manipulated me.
He used me.
And just when I thought I might be seeing a new side of Lucas, one I quite enjoyed, it was torn from me and handed on a nice silver platter to his father.
“If you want to be like him, you will be, Lucas. No one can change that. It’s not unlike me… if I wanted to be like my parents—addicted to any and every substance—I would be. But I chose not to because I know what that stuff does to a person, so I know to stay away from what could be addictive. Yes, I may drink, but I have learned my limits. So, Lucas. What are yours?”
I don’t wait for him to answer as I’m not sure I care about what he has to say anymore. So I turn and walk down the front porch stairs and step into the waiting car. When I look back, he’s standing there, hands in his pockets, watching me leave.
And something about this feels so very final.
Chapter Nine
Lucas
“She’s gone?” Keir asks, coming up beside me at the front door. Her car left a while ago, yet here I stand, not having moved from this spot.
“Yes.”
“It’s time, then.”
