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Very painful to me.
It wasn’t the kind of love I had wanted.
He acted like an honorary uncle, and for a young woman who had a schoolgirl crush on a much older and powerful man, the demeaning pats on the head, or the way he always acted as if I were a child—even now—crushed the dream of there ever being more.
Locke was one of those rare men who knew exactly what he was about at all times. He exuded confidence and intelligence. Born of meager beginnings, he’d run with a line of formidable men, but he had built a name to be feared and respected on his own. When he met my father, who was involved in the Godwin family business dealings, he was already running his own empire, and growing it even bigger.
Locke wasn’t flashy or boorish, but classy and steady. And he made class and steadfastness incredibly sexy.
The air around him crackled, while he sat back and watched what happened.
But since my father’s death, he’d been away more and more, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. He’d lost a close friend when my father was murdered. The moment that bullet had ended it all, Locke had lost someone who was practically family, and seeing me only reminded him of that.
I wasn’t the responsibility of Locke Hartwell even though he had sworn to my father that he would forever protect and look after me.
Slipping into our usual booth opposite him, I looked up quickly to find Locke staring intently at me. My heart stopped. It was disconcerting for anyone to pay that much attention to my every move—I did my best to blend into the woodwork. There must be something wrong.
“What? Do I have toilet paper on my shoe or something on my face?”
He almost smiled. His smiles were always rare events—he wasn’t the joke a minute type. “No, I just forget sometimes how much you act like your father.”
“I do not,” I defended staunchly. “We aren’t a thing alike.”
“You’re just as stubborn as he is. Last night proves my point.”
The waitress appeared, and I ordered my boring usual—fish and chips. It was also one of the cheapest, but most filling, things on the menu. I could see Locke grimacing over a menu that hadn’t changed since Kennedy was in office. He finally settled on his own usual—fish and chips.
Taking a sip of my tepid tap water, I corrected, “I may be stubborn. But I’m not like him. My dad was—well, you know how my dad was.”
Everyone had loved my father—on a personal level. I also knew he’d been feared on the streets as being a killer and had a reputation of being beyond ruthless, but at home and around friends, he had been charming and could light up the room with his boisterous energy. He’d had one major flaw, however.
He made poor choices.
He was a dreamer with lofty goals. He was thirsty for power, and wasn’t afraid to make enemies if it were to end in a payday. And in the end, that had cost him his life.
Locke didn’t say a word, just raised his eyebrow as he seemed to be studying me even more.
I sighed and laced my fingers on the tabletop.
His eyes narrowed on me enough to make me fidget with my napkin.
“Anyway, how have things been going with you?” I asked, deliberately attempting to change the odd energy I was feeling. “How’s The Vault?”
Locke held my eyes for just a millisecond longer, letting me know that he knew exactly what I was doing. “All right. Busy.”
“Hiring?” I asked with a smile.
I was teasing him. As much as I would have died for a waitress job at his sex club due to the amount I could make in tips alone, Locke had already made it quite clear that I would never be working there as long as he was alive. He had said time and time again that The Vault was no place for a girl like me.
“Funny,” he mumbled. But he continued to stare at me as if taking in every dark secret I possessed.
Guilt flooded me. It was as if he knew the conversation I’d had with Fiora last night. He was connected enough to have ears everywhere… but could he?
No… he’d be livid if he knew. I’d be a dead woman walking.
I shifted in my seat. He had a habit of doing that—of paying closer attention to me than I was used to anyone doing. Commenting on something I’d said that no one else had heard, making me feel special, as if I mattered much more than I knew I did. He did it in a very father figure fashion, as casual as a man like him could be.
And every time he did it, every time those all too knowing eyes settled on me, my core clenched.
