Breaking Out (7 page)

That day at the alley was never mentioned again, but from then on, on those days he would sometimes disappear, she'd smirk and avoid his eyes upon his return, knowing exactly where he'd been and what he'd been doing.

Parker had definitely been her friend, the only one she ever had before Lucian.

Her present-day mind jumped to visions of her and Lucian. They could be quite animalistic, yet she loved being with him in that way. She preferred him intense and raw and holding nothing back. When he acted as such, she seemed to break out of her rigid skin and surrender, allowing him to guide her somewhere dark and freeing where only the two of them existed.

“What are you grinning about?”

At Lucian's question, Evelyn's mind snapped back to the present. Her lips trembled and fell into a more natural smile.

“I was just thinking about how much my life has changed.” There was no point in mentioning Parker. Lucian didn't care for him and never seemed to regret the day Parker insulted her, as it conveniently removed him from her life.

She hoped he was someplace warm. Maybe he was curled up by the library radiators at that very moment, reading some spectacular tale. She told herself that was likely where he was, needing the comfort of believing him safe.

“Jamie called. You didn't tell me you saw him yesterday. He wants us to join him downtown for dinner.”

Evelyn never minded spending time with Jamie. It was Slade, Lucian's other colleague, she hated. The feeling was mutual. Luckily, since she and Lucian settled into a more serious arrangement, Slade rarely came around. As a matter of fact, she couldn't recall the last time she'd seen him.

“Dinner with Jamie sounds great.”

***

By Thursday, Evelyn still couldn't shake her thoughts of Parker. The more she thought about him the more she worried something was wrong, as though an unknown force was putting him into her mind on purpose. Lucian had long ago forbidden her to visit the part of the city where the shelter was, because he considered it too dangerous. She'd tried to sneak back a few times, only to be followed. Each attempt ended in a fight she had no interest in repeating.

Lucian had a lot on his mind lately, probably some big business deal. She didn't want to cause a rift or bring him more stress by mentioning Parker or asking to visit St. Christopher's.

She knew the only way she could get to that part of Folsom was through sheer creativity and pretended innocence. The problem was, Lucian loathed any hint of dishonesty between them. She'd have to figure out a way to check on Parker while being honest and casually forgetting to divulge her true intensions. There was a run-down strip mall between St. Christopher's and the Folsom Library, and that was how her plan took shape.

“Do you think Dugan can take me to a craft store tomorrow?”

Lucian looked up from the checkered onyx, considering his next move. Chess was a way they often ended their evenings. She'd become quite good at the game. He lifted his knight and captured her bishop.

Bastard.

She scowled at the board. She didn't want to sacrifice her queen.

“What do you need there?” Lucian asked as she contemplated a very stupid move she would likely make in order to save the old girl.

“I was thinking about getting some wire and stuff. Maybe I can make something out of the sea glass I bought.”

“Like a sculpture.”

She smiled, knowing it took everything he had not to tease her. “No, not like a sculpture. Maybe a necklace or something.”

“I'm not sure if I know where a store with that sort of stuff is in the city.”

“There's one by the library.”

He eyed her curiously for a long moment, and she hoped he didn't see through her request. She took great interest in moving her rook to a square that made no sense.

He pursed his lips, eyeing her, as he captured the rook with a pawn. “Are you sure wire is all that you're looking for?”

She swallowed and forced herself not to give anything away. Looking down at the board she picked up a pawn without thinking and slid it forward. “Maybe some tools to work with too.”

When she returned her gaze to his face he was still watching her. Without breaking eye contact, he captured the pawn she just moved. “Think about your actions, Evelyn. Hasty moves will get you into trouble.”

He was referring to the game, but the knot in her stomach told her he might be commenting on more than that. He could read her like one of those books she longed to devour from start to finish. She looked down and frowned over her new predicament. “You've won.” She moved her bishop anyway, knowing it was only a matter of two or three moves before he had her in check without an escape.

He slid his bishop forward, knocking out her most powerful piece and doing exactly that. “I always get my queen. Check.”

***

Evelyn shifted nervously as they headed into the more unsavory parts of Folsom. Not being honest with Lucian didn't sit right with her, but she had become wholly convinced that something was wrong. She just needed to find Parker and see that everything was okay, and then everything could go back to normal.

They were heading to the craft store by the library, so she hadn't lied, per se. Still, guilt chafed her insides. Lucian was a stickler about honesty, stating it was a fundamental ingredient to trust. She agreed with him, which made her feel like complete crap. But in this situation, her confirmation that Parker was fine would ease her mind. She didn't see the need for drama and justifying her actions when all she was searching for was a little piece of mind, especially when Lucian was already stressing over issues outside of their relationship.

Lucian always sent Dugan with more than enough money for anything she needed, but he also left an obscene amount of cash in her top drawer for things around the hotel. She rarely touched that money. It wasn't hers and she didn't think she would ever see it any other way. However, today she secretly skimmed two hundred dollars off the top in case she did find Parker and he needed it. As soon as she found a new job she would replace the money she took if that were the case.

Her stomach twisted as old familiar places came into view. It was a distasteful form of nostalgia. This part of Folsom lacked the hustle and bustle flowing around Patras. No one walked around these parts unless it was all they ever knew or if they were hoping to score a hit. She glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Dugan scowling over the wheel.

“Thanks for driving me, Big D.”

He grunted. “Perhaps next time you need art supplies you could shop online or at the craft outlet by Mr. Patras's permanent residence.”

Yeah, that would probably make more sense.
“This one has the things I'm looking for. I should only be a few minutes.”

She was swallowing more than usual, and a touch of carsickness had her shutting her eyes. Being deceptive sucked.

As they neared the library, Evelyn perked up. Dugan was watching her and she grew paranoid that he suspected her motive for coming to that section of the city, but she came all this way to find Parker, and even Dugan's surly glances wouldn't stop her from trying. It would be stupid to come here and be too chicken to actually look. Besides, she could be looking for anything.

Her eyes scoured the alleyways and sidewalks, greedily searching for any flash of life. March was cold and wet, so there wasn't much more than litter traveling by. A sense of regret filled her as the limo passed the library with no sign of Parker.

They pulled into the strip mall and Dugan parked. There weren't a lot of shoppers. He came to her door and escorted her to the craft shop. The chirp of the limo's alarm engaging echoed like a lost crow in a desolate field.

Dugan was like a shadow, bigger than her, always there, always silent. She distractedly filled her basket with materials she hadn't the slightest idea how to use. She'd made the trip. She might as well get what she told Lucian she needed. Dugan eyed the merchandise quietly.

She turned when he cleared his throat. He held a packaged tool in his hand that looked like a drill.

“It's a solder gun,” he explained. “If you're going to be making something with wire you probably want one to secure the ends.”

She smiled at him. Dugan didn't say much, but he also didn't miss much. It was lonely sometimes, what with how often Lucian was pulled away on business. She liked to think that Dugan liked her. Moments like this made her believe he did.

She held out her basket. “Thanks, Big D. Put her here.”

He dropped the gun in her basket. “You'll probably want gloves too. Wires have a way of beating up your fingers. Little girlie hands like yours . . .” his words faded off as his gaze darted back to the shelf. He cleared his throat.

Big softy.

They loaded her basket with so many things, Dugan eventually offered to carry it. She was distracted when they passed the poster section and she spotted black-and-white prints of the city. She flipped through the matted prints. It didn't take long to find what she was looking for.
Patras.
The hotel stood like a god among kings.

“Does Lucian have this photograph?” she asked Dugan.

“I don't usually take notice of what's on Mr. Patras's walls.”

“Well, I think he'd like it, don't you?”

“I think he would enjoy anything you chose for him, Ms. Keats.”

“Seriously, Dugan, call me Evelyn or Scout. No one even calls my mom Ms. Keats. It's weird, especially considering how much time we spend together.”

“Very well, Ms. Evelyn.”

Her lips pursed. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to express what she thought about his compromise, but she let it go. “I'm gonna get it for him.”

They visited the framing department, and Evelyn selected a cherry frame that reminded her of the wood of Lucian's desk in the condo. An employee placed the photograph within a sheet of dark red matting.

“Would you like to inscribe anything on the placard?” the clerk asked. “We have a machine that does it, so it only takes a few minutes.”

“Okay.” She hadn't thought about actually having the little bronze label engraved, but she liked the idea.

The clerk slid a scrap of paper over the counter. “Here, write what you want it to say there. Make sure you write it exactly as you want it to appear as far as capital letters and all.” He turned to ready the machine.

Evelyn swallowed and stared down at the blank scrap of paper. It was incredibly intimidating. Her hand slowly reached for the pencil, her fingers tightly wrapping around the six-sided piece of wood.

Fuck.

Breathing in, she pulled the paper close and poised the pencil at the edge. The tip snapped and she realized she was pressing too hard. “Um, can I have another pencil?”

“Sure.” The clerk slid another across the counter.

She knew she could ask Dugan to write something down for her, but she wanted it to be from her. She wanted to say something poetic and special, but she only knew how to spell small words.

Her fingers slid over the smooth wood of the pencil as her palms began to sweat. She wiped them on her jeans, cleared her throat, and leaned closer. Her mind played over the words she knew how to spell until she finally thought of the perfect word.

Carefully her fingers pressed down as the soft lead glided over the paper, one straight line, then another. She connected them.
H.
Next she formed a circle.
O.
Licking her lips, she turned the paper and began making the next set of strokes.
M.
Finally, she turned the paper again and made four neat lines.
E.
HOME.

She placed the pencil down with a shaking hand, and Dugan leaned over her shoulder, observing the word she chose. “What do you think?”

He smiled at her, a rare expression on his serious face. “I think it's perfect, Ms. Evelyn.”

She slid it to the clerk.

As they returned to the limo, that same sense of hopelessness filled her. As Dugan pulled away from the dilapidated strip mall, it transcended into a physical ache. She'd come all this way and discovered nothing. The discouraging ache bloomed into panic as they eased out of that part of the city.

“Dugan!”

The limo slowed immediately. She hadn't meant to shout. “Ms. Keats?”

“Can we stop at the library? I think I want to get some art books.”

His eyes narrowed, but the car turned, heading back in that direction. As he parked he didn't immediately get out like he usually did. “We will have to be heading back soon. Mr. Patras made reservations for the two of you.”

“I'll be quick.”

The moment they made it into the old library, her eyes combed the aisles. She deliberately headed toward the literature department, where Parker found most of the classics he enjoyed. Passing the children's section, she paused, letting her memories comfort her. Only then did she realize how much she truly missed her friend. She didn't expect the familiar smell of paper and books to hit her as hard as it did, bringing with it a sentimental twinge.

“I believe the art section is this way, Ms. Keats.”

Already he was back to the formal title. Reluctantly, looking one last time for her friend, she followed Dugan. She selected four books, one on jewelry making, one on wire sculpture, one on metal work, and one on architecture she thought Lucian would enjoy. She made sure to get books with lots of pictures.

She had never actually taken a book out of the library so she needed to give the woman at the counter her information in order to get a card. It was the first time she ever told someone her address and hadn't needed to lie.

Before they left she looked back at the quiet library one last time. Parker was nowhere to be found and this was likely the one place he would be. The shelter wasn't open until nightfall.

Sighing, she returned to the limo. The ride home was made in deep thought, one resounding hope playing through her head.
Please be okay.