Beautifully Forgotten (42 page)

“You’re right. I needed that,” she said breathlessly.

“You and me both.” He dropped her on the bed. “But I still need more.”

L
ucien stopped his car in front of the Pyramid club, but he was wound so tightly, even after exhausting himself with Darcy the night before, that he thought he might just take off. Last night, Nick had not been interested in talking until he and Trace had worked him over. He hadn’t given much up, but he did throw around a name meant to intimidate. But it had the exact opposite effect on Lucien.

Lucien knew who Nick worked for, but he still didn’t know why he had been interested in Darcy and him when they were younger. They were here to find out.

Lucien glanced at Trace, who was even more quiet than normal. He didn’t know if it was because of what had happened last night with Ember or if it was something more, so he asked, “Everything all right?”

There was definitely something going on with him, but he wasn’t one to share. So Lucien wasn’t surprised when Trace said, “I’m good,” and then changed the subject, gesturing to the building. “You think he’ll see you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucien knew he didn’t sound very confident, but then, a lot of time had passed since he’d last seen the man.

It was dark and loud inside the club as they made their way through the crowd toward the back, where Lucien knew there were not only offices, but where the man kept a small residence. Once they hit the checkpoint, some men approached, forcing them to come to a halt.

“Your business?” the largest of the group asked. Trace stood silently at Lucien’s side, but he felt the air rippling around him, like he was just looking for an excuse to come out swinging.

“I’m here to see your boss. Tell him Lucien Black’s here.”

Recognition flashed in the man’s eyes as he reached for his walkie-talkie.

“Lucien Black to see the boss.”

Seconds later the reply came. “Bring him back.”

The contrast between the front of the club and the back was like night and day. The walls were painted a muted gold and Lucien noticed that some of the furnishings were antiques. Vivaldi’s
The Four Seasons
, a personal favorite of the man they had come to see, pumped over the speakers. They were brought to a sitting room, where a man awaited them by a mantel that Lucien knew to be hand-carved, because it was Rafe who had done it.

At the sound of their approach, the man turned. Looks were definitely deceiving when it came to this slight, elderly man, someone who had run his family’s business for close to forty years. Despite his age, Lucien knew he had no intention of retiring any time soon. This was the man who had reached out to Lucien when he’d been a kid and offered him a job.

“Lucien Black, what a pleasant surprise.”

Lucien walked over to the other man, who pulled him in for a hug, kissing both his cheeks in greeting.

“Nice to see you again. Trace, I’d like to introduce you to Pasquale—”

“Grimaldi,” Trace finished and reached his hand out to the older man. “Nice to meet you.”

“Trace Montgomery. A pleasure.”

Pasquale gestured toward the small sitting area. “Please, let’s sit. That will be all, Frank.” After Lucien and Trace had taken a seat, Pasquale said, “So you are here to find out why I asked Nick to pay that visit to St. Agnes.” He paused for a moment before he continued, “It was at the request of a business associate.”

As much as Lucien liked the man across from him, he was contemplating grabbing him by the throat.

“Who?”

“I know him as Johnny, but you know him as the honorable Judge Jonathan Carmichael.”

It took Lucien a minute to let the name sink in, and when it did, rage practically lifted him from his chair.

“The judge asked you to send Nick to Darcy?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell for?”

“He wanted to hurt you. It wasn’t hard for Nick to say the words that your girl was already thinking. She was young, scared, and trying to do the right thing.”

“And if you agreed, what?”

Pasquale didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. It was very clear the judge threw cases to keep Pasquale in his pocket.

Lucien practically bellowed, “That smug son of a bitch always ranting about integrity—he’s a fucking dirty judge!” He looked back at Pasquale. “So all the shit Nick told Darcy about helping me if she stayed away was a lie.”

“It was supposed to be. She wouldn’t have stayed away if he hadn’t given her a good enough incentive, but I had an attack of conscience and sent Dominic to offer you a job. It probably wasn’t necessary since you already had a few people watching your back.”

“Sister Margaret.”

“Yes.”

“Why the hell would the judge care about me when I was younger? He didn’t know me from Adam.”

“From what I was able to gather, you were the product of a union that he did not approve of.”

Lucien felt numb as Pasquale’s words slowly penetrated. “Are you saying the judge knows who my parents are?”

The gangster looked almost solemn when he said, “I’m afraid so.”

Lucien had just gotten home when Trace called about some box of Sister Anne’s that Ember had brought home from St. Agnes for him.

A half hour later Lucien stood in Trace’s living room looking at the contents of the box. It wasn’t much, just some of Sister Anne’s clothes and keepsakes.

“It’s weird seeing her street clothes. I only ever remember her in her habit.” The habit was there too, of course, and seeing it was painful even after all the time that had passed. Under her clothes, Lucien found a small box, and inside was a gold locket, the type a lover would give. There weren’t any pictures inside it, just a folded up note with one word on it: “Forever.”

“Who do you think that’s from?” Trace asked.

“I’ve no idea.” But it was definitely something Lucien planned on asking around about. He wanted to thank Ember, though, for bringing this to him. “Is Ember around?”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Everything okay with you two?”

“Things between us are great, but the pregnancy is another story. C’mon, I’ll get us some beers.” Lucien followed Trace to the kitchen and gladly accepted a cold one.

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted the kid?”

“I do, but I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.”

“I imagine most first-time parents go through that.”

Trace rubbed a hand over his head and took a drink from his beer before setting it on the counter next to him. “Maybe, but hers is a higher risk pregnancy.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry, man, but they deliver babies every minute of every day. And Ember’s tough; I mean, she reeled
you
in.”

The look Trace gave him was comical—both smug and disgusted with the idea of being reeled in, even though it was true and they both knew it.

Lucien took a pull from his own beer and heard the words coming out of his mouth before he realized he intended to say them. “I screwed up with Darcy. I almost lost her again.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“When I heard about the baby, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that she had given him up. I don’t even know why, because I know Darcy would never do that. It was like I wanted to push her away.”

“You probably did.”

Lucien looked over at his friend, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, but for me, I didn’t want to want Ember. I never needed anyone in my life, and I’m not talking about Chelsea because that’s different. And then along comes Ember and it was like I was hit over the fucking head and suddenly I did need someone. I needed her. I pushed her away every chance I got and yet she held on because she knew what I was refusing to see.”

“What?”

“She needed me as much as I needed her.”

“Such words of wisdom, I hardly recognize you,” said Lucien jokingly.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll punch you cross-eyed.”

“And he’s back.”

“What are you going to do about the judge?”

Lucien couldn’t help his fury at the idea that the one person he truly hated was the one person who knew the secret of his birth parents.

“I don’t know. I want to nail him to the wall for meddling in my life and fucking it up so royally, but at the same time I want to know who my parents are. I’m not even sure why, since I made peace with the circumstances of my birth a long time ago. But he knows. How can I not ask?”

Trace nodded his head in agreement before he asked, “What do you think it was that Heidi had on them? It had to be something pretty significant, because the judge is not a pussy.”

“Maybe it wasn’t just the judge she was blackmailing. Maybe she was extorting all of them. I think I may need to pay a visit to the DA. He should at least know that his father is a dirty son of a bitch.”

“Dane thinks she was blackmailing his dad,” Ember said from the doorway.

Trace turned to her and when he spoke, his voice was deceptively soft. “Dane?”

“Yeah, he contacted me to give me a heads-up on Heidi and her activities with his family.”

“You’ve seen Dane?”

“Yes, but he was a perfect gentleman.”

“Do you not remember the last time you saw him?” Trace demanded.

Ember reached for his hand and stepped into him. “I do, but he’s different now. He’s clean and remorseful. He reached out to me to help. He’s terrified of you, so he’ll keep his hands to himself.”

“I don’t like it,” Trace growled.

“Okay, well if I see him again, I’ll be sure to bring you.”

“Fucking straight.”

“You have such a way with words.”

Lucien looked down at the floor so Trace wouldn’t see his smile, but it was funny watching his friend so easily outmaneuvered. Yep, Ember was tougher than she looked.

She turned her focus to Lucien. “Whose locket is that?”

“I’m guessing Sister Anne’s.”

“I found love letters in the attic of St. Agnes. I wonder if they’re hers too?”

Lucien wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that Sister Anne may have had a man in her life. Thankfully Ember took his mind off it when she said, “What I’m not getting is the connection between Heidi blackmailing the Carmichaels and your son.”

Lucien responded, “Let’s see what else Dane knows about Heidi’s blackmailing.”

Dane brought Lena because he hoped that maybe she could run interference if things got dicey with Ember and her husband. He needed to rethink sobriety; it really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“Here they come,” Lena said, which made Dane turn in the direction of the three walking toward them. Great, the gangster, Lucien, was with them, and just looking at Trace made his face hurt. Man, he wanted a drink. They settled at the table.

“Hi, Dane. Hi, Lena,” said Ember.

“Hi, you guys want drinks?” Lena asked.

“No, thanks,” Ember said, but Trace and Lucien remained silent.

Dane shifted in his seat before he found his voice and asked, “What is it you need?”

“Have you figured out what Heidi was holding over your family?”

Again he shifted in his chair—talk about a fucking can of worms. But if he had any hope of walking away from all of this, he had to tell them everything he knew.

“My dad has a taste for younger women. I think he slept with the wrong younger woman and Heidi was using that on him. My grandfather is so psychotic when it comes to image that it’s possible Heidi threatened to reveal what she knew about my dad to him as well, hoping to get double money for the same juicy tidbit.” Dane leaned back in his chair, growing a bit more comfortable with the idea of selling all three of them down the river. “You know they ride my ass about my behavior, but they’re no fucking different. Seriously, I should just change my name to Spano and pretend they’re not even my family.”