“Bastian, wait,” she said, pushing to her feet. Her legs felt wobbly beneath her and she braced a hand on the back of the chair. “I…I love you.”
He closed his eyes, swaying on his feet. “I love you, Kayla,” he said quietly. “And that’s why I have to go.” And then he was gone, leaving her alone to collapse back down in the chair, dissolving into sobs.
The next few hours were a blur for Sebastian as he called some of his old contacts, trying to get information on where Coldhurst might be, on if there were any other loan sharks looking for him. Trying to figure out his life, not because it was worth anything, but because he needed to keep Kayla safe. The thought of anyone coming after her again made him want to slam his fist through a wall.
God, Kayla. Fresh pain seared through him at the memory of watching her heart break, piece by piece. Dropping like shattered pottery at his feet. He hated that she was hurting, but he’d had no choice. She wasn’t safe if she was connected to him. He wasn’t the man she deserved. He’d tricked her into believing he could give her things he couldn’t. Fuck, he’d tricked himself too.
But this was who he was—a fucked up gambling addict who hurt everyone around him. And he didn’t know how to ever change it. He’d thought he’d found a way out, a way through, but he’d only been fooling himself. The past few months had been nothing more than a bandage on a wound that was still festering.
Once he’d done all of the digging he could, Lucian had texted him, asking him to come by Il Tavolo, another one of his restaurants, this one in Noho near Washington Square Park. The restaurant’s tables were mostly full, the lunch crowd keeping the place busy. The scents of garlic and tomato sauce hit him, making his stomach roil. He hadn’t eaten anything since the burger he’d grabbed with Chase on the way back from the competition. Before everything had gone to hell.
He wove his way between the tables, catching a few wary glances as he went, knowing he probably looked like hammered shit. Not that he cared. He didn’t care about anything except getting Coldhurst off his back so he could know Kayla was safe. He strode into a back hallway and down to an office at the end, where he found Lucian behind a desk.
“We have a meeting with Coldhurst today at one,” said Lucian casually, cleaning the gun on his desk. Sweat prickled along Sebastian’s hairline at the sight of the gun. It made him jumpy, even if it was in pieces right now.
“What?” asked Sebastian, frowning. “How? I spent all fucking morning on the phone trying to track him down.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a very well-connected man,” he said dryly. “He’s coming to the restaurant, probably with several of his men. We’re going to have the money ready and waiting for him, plus interest. Enough interest that it’s worth his while to leave you the fuck alone.”
“And then what?”
“And then we make sure all of your debts are clear so you can go on with your life.”
Sebastian nodded. “Thank you, Lucian. I’d probably be dead without you.”
“Probably?” he smirked, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “There’s no probably about it, brother.”
An intense wave of gratitude gripped him and he moved behind the desk, pulled Lucian up out of his chair and wrapped him in a bear hug. “We may have had shitty parents, but we’re all lucky to have you.”
Lucian was stiff in his arms and patted Sebastian’s shoulder before disentangling himself. “Yes, well. Someone had to take responsibility for all of you.” He sat back down, his gaze intent on Sebastian. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m a good guy, because I’m not. Don’t put me on a pedestal. I’m just an older brother looking out for his family. I’m not a hero. Pretty much the fucking opposite, actually.”
It was the closest Lucian had ever come to talking about the dark parts of his life. And not that Lucian owed him or anyone an explanation, but Sebastian wanted to know. Partly out of curiosity, and mostly because he wanted something to think about besides the look of utter devastation on Kayla’s bruised face earlier that morning.
“So what’s your deal, exactly?” he asked, sitting down in the empty chair facing the desk.
“My deal?” Lucian asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Yeah. Are you mobbed up, or what?”
Lucian’s movements stilled, and he set the gun down on the desk in front of him, then folded his hands in his lap. For a moment, he held Sebastian’s eyes, his lips pursed, and then he cocked his head. “That’s a complicated question. Yes and no.”
“Yes and no?”
He let out an impatient sigh. “I’m not in the mafia and I never have been. But I do work with them, sometimes very closely. They have power and money, and so do I. We exchange favors.”
“Favors? But how did…how does someone come to do favors for the mafia without actually being part of the family?”
Lucian smiled. “That’s a long story and not one I’m getting into right now.”
“Do you ever worry? About getting caught? Going to prison?”
Lucian feigned a shocked expression. “Prison? What on earth would I ever go to prison for?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
He resumed putting the gun back together. “Like I said, I’m a well-connected man.” Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder what price he’d paid for those connections. Connections he was grateful for, but still. Is this who Lucian would be if he hadn’t grown up with a father hating his guts? If he hadn’t felt he had to protect his siblings since no one else would? But he knew better than to ask those questions aloud, so he changed the subject.
“What if, even after we pay
