His Absolute Betrayal - Elise's Love Story: The Billionaire's Continuum (#2) (A Contemporary Romance Novel) (12 page)

"Not with you," Elle said.  "It never was with you."

What was he supposed to say to that?  Apologize for being perfect?  Except, no, he knew he wasn't.  Far from it, actually.  If he was perfect, he never would have ended up here.  If he was perfect, he wouldn't have thought to come here, either.  He might have still thought it, but then he would have realized what a terrible idea it was.

If he was perfect, he never would have dragged Elise into this mess in the first place.  If he was perfect, he never would have resorted to the sorts of activities that ended in these types of situations, either.  There would be no hidden passageways at the Landseer estate, no hidden hard drive in a secure data storage room with information about his various indiscretions.  If he was perfect...

He never could have attained half of what he needed.  Perhaps it was wrong of him to think this, but perfect people didn't exist.  Perfect people gave everything of themselves in order to provide for others.  He wasn't perfect, not even remotely close.  He was the opposite.

Abby was perfect to him.  And look what happened to her?  He'd practically forced her out into the snow that day because of his childish desire for junk food of little nutritional value, and she died because of it.  She gave all of herself for him, literally, and she paid the price for it, too.  His memories and his dreams would haunt him forever.  Elise said he shouldn't, she said it wasn't his fault, but he didn't know if he could ever truly believe her.

Yesterday afternoon, Elise said she was going to write a story about their time spent trapped in the library this past winter.  Would she write that part?  About his nightmarish dreams and torturous guilt?  How would she write it?  Was he a monster in her eyes, or a tortured soul who needed love and guidance?  The fact that she slapped him and stomped away told him almost everything he needed to know.

He couldn't blame her, either.  He thought she might be correct.

*Written by Elise Tanner, with permission from Lucent Storme*

He was ten and staying in a log cabin on top of a mountain with the daughter of one of his mother's closest friends.  She was eighteen and his first real crush.  He didn't exactly understand these things, but with a rage of hormones surging through his young body, he found her attractive.

"Abby," he said to her in some bratty, ten year old voice, "I want french fries."

"Luci," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.  "We don't have any.  How about chicken tenders?"

"Mom and Dad would let me have french fries," he said, petulant. 

Abby stuck her tongue out at him again and rushed over to tickle his sides.  He laughed and laughed and laughed.  She tickled him into submission, then sat atop him, straddling his midsection and pinning him to the ground.  As a ten year old, this was the farthest he'd ever gotten with a girl.  It bothered him now to think of it like this, but he remembered being fascinated by it then.

Abby was fun.  Her full name was Abigail, but she disliked that.  She was probably his best friend, too.  Yes, she was eight years older than him, but none of that mattered.  His parents had let her take him to the cabin a few days earlier than their intended arrival and it was fun.

That was what it was supposed to be.  A fun trip.  To ski or sled or make angels in the snow.  Abby was an angel, he thought.  From his memories of her, from then, even now, she really was one.

"I saw a pizza place down the road when we drove here," he said.  He wished he'd never said this.  "I bet they have french fries."

"I bet they have pizza," Abby said, holding her hands up, ready to tickle him once more.

He squirmed beneath her, trying to get away, laughing, excited.  Abby was so pretty.

"It's not too far!" he shrieked, his voice cracking.  She was about to tickle him again and it made him anxious.

"We don't have a car here," she reminded him.  "It's snowing now, too.  I don't have enough money for french fries, a pizza, and a taxicab ride."

"I just want french fries," he said.

"Yeah, well, if I'm going to get french fries, I want pizza."  She lifted her nose at him, acting haughty.

"So you're going to go?" he asked.

"I guess..."  She glanced out the window and he followed her gaze.  Snow fell in thick, fluffy white flakes.

"It probably won't take too long to walk there, but you wait here, alright?" she said.  "It'll be faster that way.  Just don't tell your mom or dad.  I don't want to get in trouble."

He nodded fast, faster.  Of course he wouldn't tell them!  That's what he thought then.  Abby was going to get him french fries and that was great.

She put on her jacket and gloves and opened the door to leave.  A gust of wind blew through the cabin, sending a spray of snowflakes dashing inside.  She closed the door quick and stared at the knob as if she wanted to reconsider leaving.

He scurried to her side and wrapped his arms around her.  "I love you, Abby.  Thanks so much."

She smiled and kissed the top of his head.  "I love you, too, Luci."

She left.  That was the last time he ever saw her.

Laura brought him a cup of tea while he stood in the foyer, refusing to fully enter her apartment.  Lucent stared at the wall, so uncertain and unsure.  How did he end up like this?  He wondered about it, worried about it.  Was there an exact moment in time when his life took this turn?  What if he knew it, could change it, forever and always, and then become something else?  Something better?

That was what he always wanted in a way.  To become more, better, a person perfected.  He couldn't be that, though.  He couldn't be perfect, and that sudden realization brought a rush of tumultuous emotions to the fore of his mind.  He took the cup of tea from Laura and sipped at it, lost in thought and a fog of steam from the cup in his hands.  Warm porcelain tingled and burned his fingers.

It hurt.  He deserved it.

"Lucent," Laura said, standing at his side.  Close, friendly, but not like she'd been before.

He didn't want to talk to her.  He said nothing.

"You said you stopped doing this," she said.  "You told me in your emails.  You said you were happy."

"I was," he said.

"What happened?" she asked.  "You seemed fine before.  Who is that woman you brought?"

He'd forgotten.  He didn't even think that was possible.  How had he completely forgotten about Elise, even for only a second?  Probably, he thought, because forgetting about her was easier for the both of them.  He didn't belong with her.  He didn't want to hurt her anymore, but in the span of a few days he'd done so much to contradict that.

"I love her," he said.  He meant to say "loved," because maybe he should give up on love, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.  She should love someone else other than him, but he didn't think he could love anyone but her.

"I don't know how," Laura said.  "She's not good for you.  How can you let her slap you like that?  I thought maybe she was just your friend.  I thought maybe you were mentoring her?"  She said her last sentence with the vaguest hint of a question, as if she hoped it was true; as if she hoped Lucent would agree that they were just friends, that he was just mentoring her, that it was just that simple and easy without any complications.

Lucent shrugged and shook his head, refusing to commit one way or the other.  He didn't know what to say to ensure everything would be fine in the future.  He doubted anything he could say would guarantee that, either.

"Come sit in the kitchen," Laura said.  "It's warmer in there.  I'll make you something to eat."

He followed her, more out of a desperate need to lose himself in nothingness than an actual desire to eat.  He'd just eaten.  With Elise.  He remembered her sitting next to him, remembered exactly what she looked like at the time, remembered when she'd taken his fork from him and decided to feed him herself.  He liked it.  It was different.  He always fed her, and she said she enjoyed it, but their roles were never reversed.  He didn't know why.  He'd never thought to reverse them.  It honestly had never occurred to him.

He walked through the halls and went to the kitchen.  He knew where it was; he'd been here before.  Sitting at the small kitchen table, he held his tea in his hands and sipped at it while Laura went about making a meal.  He didn't know what she was going to make.  He didn't want to know, either.  It didn't matter.

He took a few more sips of tea.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her staring at him oddly.

He needed to take his mind off of this situation.  Also, for whatever reason, he was growing increasingly tired.  Stress, perhaps.  He slept well enough last night, and he always slept well in Elise's presence, but there was a lot going on right now.  More than he'd ever prepared for, more than he thought anyone could prepare for.

"I need to use your phone," he said, forcing himself into alertness.  "Privately."

Laura smiled and nodded.  "Sure.  Hold on.  Do you remember where the master bedroom is?"

He nodded.  Unfortunately, yes, he remembered.  "Are you sleeping in there now, or do you still stay in that small room near—"

Near her playroom.  He'd filled the playroom with an assortment of BDSM tools to suit his and her pleasure.  When he came to see her so long ago, they used to sleep in the bed there.  When he wasn't here, she slept in one of the cramped rooms directly connected to it.  It was more of a hallway than a room, but she'd said she liked it because she wanted to be close to the deviant playroom even when he wasn't there.  She also said she never went in there, except to make sure everything was clean and ready for his use.

He'd liked that at the time.  He hated it now.  Had she still done that, still slept near there, waiting for him these last three years?  He hoped not.

"I've been sleeping in the master bedroom," she said, quiet and reluctant.  "I wish I hadn't.  Maybe that's why—"

"No," he said.  "It's not.  Everything between us is over, Laura.  You need to understand that."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and laughed.  "Oh, you.  Here.  Have some more tea."  She poured him another cup, replacing his empty one.  "My phone is in the master bedroom on the side table.  The password to unlock it is five-two-six-six.  I'll just finish up here.  Take your time."

He nodded and left her there, taking his tea with him.

Laura's bedroom was nothing like he remembered.  Granted, he'd never spent much time in this particular room, so it was easy for it to have changed on him.  He thought there was more to it than that, too.  It looked nice and comfortable, almost entirely regular compared to the rest of her house.  She had a weird knack for design, though he doubted most would appreciate her decorative
modus operandi
.

From what he remembered, she preferred to have contrasting emotions present in her apartment.  The foyer was neutral, while the kitchen was warm and comforting.  One of the hallways was dark and isolated, almost trapped and fearful.

And so on, the various shades of her thoughts on submission.  It interested him in a passing sort of way.  Her entire apartment offered curious insight into her thoughts, but in a baser, primal portrayal.  Simply emotions, and nothing more.

Though if not for emotions, what were we as people?  That was almost the entirety of our essence, he supposed.  We might maintain memories of the past that we liked or disliked, but each of them held a certain sense of appeal because of the remembered emotions they brought us.

He briefly wondered if he could be rid of it all.  And, if he could, would he want to?  No memories, no emotions, just existence, forever more.  Living his life and being guided by necessity and purpose, as logic dictated.

No, he probably wouldn't enjoy that.  Except would he really not enjoy it, or were his emotions suggesting he wouldn't, because with emotions it sounded unhappy and distressing?  If he didn't have emotions, he wouldn't be unhappy or distressed about anything.  A difficult conundrum.

Also, adequate procrastination.  Lucent despised prolonging the inevitable.  Except he was doing exactly that.  He should be going to talk with Elise instead of sitting in a bedroom, alone, with a cup of tea and a cell phone, planning to call Mr. Landseer.

He didn't know why he didn't go to Elise, except that it seemed like he didn't have any right to.  What should he say to her?  Apologize?

Apologies were an inherent request for forgiveness.  Forgiveness meant that he wanted her to accept his wrongdoing and, regardless, to stay with him.  If she stayed with him, he couldn't guarantee her anything, though.  His apology, for all intents and purposes, was completely useless.  If he apologized, they were still stuck in this situation.  If he didn't apologize, if she left, she might be able to figure a way out of it.  She could go to the police and tell them everything she knew.  She could hand them the hard drive.  She'd be free then, wouldn't she?

And what about him?  Lucent wouldn't have anything, but perhaps he deserved as much.

If that happened, he needed to figure a way to cut ties in a clean manner, though.  Which, he thought, involved contacting Asher Landseer.

He wanted to call him, but he could barely keep his eyes open for some reason.  He didn't know why he was so tired.  It made no sense.

Instead of calling, he decided on text messaging him.  He picked up Laura's cell phone and sent off a text.

"Mr. Landseer.  Everything is fine.  The situation becomes more troublesome with each passing hour, but things are looking up.  -L"

That should work.  Laura went by Elle, too, because that was the name he gave her a long time ago.  The reasoning for it made him laugh in disgust.  He was possibly a very sick individual.

The phone buzzed with Asher's response.

"L?  With E?  Are you sure everything's fine?  There's been a few happy revelations here.  By happy, I mean not happy at all."

Lucent sighed, struggling to keep his eyes open.  "Sorry to hear that.  Care to elaborate?"

Asher responded with, "There are rumors that Lucent Storme bugged all of the computers at Landseer Tower and has been recording information through the laptop webcams and microphones.  This isn't public knowledge yet, but it's bound to be leaked any day now.  I heard a little
office romance
audio clip between two people that sounded remarkably like Elise and Lucent.  They were talking about her being punished for being in his office without permission."