Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2) Page 35

  “Bishop! Are you marrying him?”

  “What is he thinking?” she kept saying over and over again. He’d caught her off guard. Never, in all her life, would she have seen this one coming.

  Lucian had just pulled a full three-sixty, and had come all the way out of his shell.

  Introvert had become extrovert.

  Holy shit!

  The reporters asked more questions.

  He picked the ones he wanted to answer, but first, he did something unexpected.

  “I love you, Bishop!” he yelled, facing the house. “I don’t deserve you as a wife, but I swear I’ll make you happy every single day. I can’t ever remember loving anyone like I love you!”

  Her hand covered her mouth.

  Roxy stared at her. “He’s insane. He’s finally flipped his wig. He needs a psych evaluation!”

  She couldn’t believe it.

  It was hard not to be touched by his gesture.

  They asked him about his first fiancée, Wendy.

  His reply?

  “Wendy who?”

  Tears filled Bishop’s eyes. He was sacrificing himself, knowing the woman would tear him apart. Lucian wasn’t hiding. He was wearing the bull’s-eye and standing in front of her.

  Jesus!

  How could she hate him now?

  “Furthermore,” he said, continuing to address them, “I’ll be reopening the case where I was nearly killed. That’s going to be my focus. I’m going to find the person who did this to me, and then I’m going to marry the woman I love. We’re going to have lots of kids. My Bishop wants to fill Graymoor and live happily ever after, and she’s getting that. Beauty has tamed her beast.”

  Bishop gasped again.

  OH.

  My.

  God.

  Roxy hit the mute button. “Jesus, he’s insane. We have to get you out of here. I’ll take a vacation, and we’ll go somewhere warm where we can drink, screw strangers like bunnies, and forget about him.”

  She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

  Lucian Monroe was certifiably insane.

  As her phone rang, she picked it up.

  It was the mayor.

  “What the hell is going on?” Silas bellowed into the phone. “I told him to go away. This isn’t going away. You can’t possibly be marrying him. That damn man is doing the exact opposite of what I told him to do!”

  Her heart skipped.

  Lucian hadn’t lied.

  She put it on speaker. “Silas, you told him to go away? Why would you do that to me?” she asked.

  Roxy shook her head. She wasn’t shocked. Her grandfather was a nosy man who thought he knew best.

  This had sealed Lucian’s fate, and she knew it. Now Bishop would take him back.

  Damn!

  Roxy didn’t want her friend to be hurt by that man any more than she already had been damaged.

  “Someone had to protect you. He’s not good for you, Bish. I was trying to keep you safe. Wendy is gunning for you, and it’s all because of him.”

  Yeah, and the people she loved weren’t in her corner.

  “You had no right, Silas. I love him. You caused a horrible mess by interfering. You almost made me hate him.”

  “He’s a mess, sweetheart. You need someone more stable. He’s on the news telling everyone you’re getting married. Are you?”

  She didn’t have an answer.

  “I have to go.”

  She hung up.

  “Jesus H. Christ, you just hung up on Hurricane Silas. He’s going to flip his shit all over you. In fact, he’s on his way here right now. I can hear him cursing from his home.”

  She didn’t care.

  Lucian hadn’t lied.

  Someone else had planted the seeds of fear. He didn’t push her away on his own. He was trying to protect her.

  “Is Lucian still out there?” she asked.

  Roxy looked out the window.

  He was gone, most of the media was gone, and so was that infuriating Marine who manhandled her.

  “No.”

  She tore open the letter on her bed.

  “He wrote me this before he told me to leave.”

  Roxy looked skeptical. “How do you know he didn’t just do that after the fact? He could be covering his tracks.”

  She held it up in the light, looking for the proof. The lips didn’t lie.

  Those were her lip gloss marks, and the envelope wasn’t open.

  He’d not doctored it.

  She could tell.

  Besides, he hadn’t lied about Silas. He’d been telling the truth. Why would he start now?

  She tore into it and began reading.

  ‘My dearest Bishop,

  I hope when you read this, you’ve stopped hating me. I know that I can’t say the same for me. I loathe the man I’ve become on so many levels that it haunts every second of my day. I had so many hopes and dreams at the beginning, and I let them go to hide from everything that terrified me. I quit on me, and that was my first biggest mistake.

  This isn’t who I am.

  I’m not proud of my choices.

  It gets worse, Bishop.

  My second biggest mistake was letting you think I never saw you. Ten years ago, I did see you in that courthouse more times than you’ll ever even know. Each one is a memory I cherish and hold dear to my heart. The first time I ever saw you, you were leaning against a wall, a cup of coffee in your hand, and you were playing with the end of your ponytail. I watched you twirl it, wondering what it would feel like with your fingers touching me. I wanted to walk over to you, but I didn’t think it would be welcomed. I heard you that same day, when you told that other deputy that you thought I was full of myself, arrogant, cocky, and would have one hell of an ego. You were right. I was. But even so, I was afraid even then to approach you. I should have. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I made a different choice. Not a single second happens, when I don’t wonder what my life would be like had I been brave. We’ve lost ten years because of my insecurities and ego, and for that, I’m sorry. I always wonder about what would have been.

  Would we be married?

  Would we have children?

  Would I not be this monster, deformed by my own choices in life?

  I was wrong more than I was right.

  I see that now.

  I also saw you that one day when you were at the courthouse visiting Silas. You were wearing a dress. It was the color of the sky, and it made your hair so very red. You had these soft curls that beckoned to be touched.

  God!

  I wanted to touch you so badly, that my hands actually hurt. You walked past my office, and I followed you like some love struck puppy, dying just to see a glimpse of you. What I didn’t know then was I was in love. I needed those moments to get through the long days of pain.

  You were my escape.

  You were my solace.

  I watched as you grabbed a soda from the vending machine, kicking it in the right spot. I wanted to laugh, to hug you, to tell you to be mine, but you weren’t within my reach. I know now that even then, I was too broken to try.

  I wasted another chance, and that’s on me too.

  I obsessed about you, thinking about the woman with the red hair.

  That day affected me on such a level, that I’m still reeling from it. I even remember that it was cherry soda. I can still see how you drank it right there. The whole time, I watched in awe at how beautiful you looked, wondering if your lips would taste as sweet. I fell in love in that minute, but I wasn’t able to be who I am today. I was on a path to destruction, and even then, I couldn’t do that to you.

  In my own way, I was protecting you.

  You won’t see it that way, but it’s true. I swear it’s the truth. I feared what I was becoming, the woman I’d tied myself to, and the way it was sucking my soul from me. I would have given it all up had you smiled at me. I would have crawled then, and I’d still crawl now.

  The day I nearly
died, I wasn’t in a rush to get to a meeting. You were at the courthouse the previous day, and while we were on break, I heard you tell one of the deputies that you were taking the next day off. You were going to catch a movie alone.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  I wanted to be with you, sharing popcorn, your warmth, and what you offered me from afar. Certainly, it would be even more amazing at your side.

  So, I hatched this master plan to find you. I wasn’t rushing off to talk to the media. I was rushing off to run into you. I’d finally gotten the nerve up to make a move. I wanted to do it away from the place we worked, in case you laughed at me. Even then, I was too worried about my ego. I’d realized that Wendy never had my heart. She was nothing compared to the gorgeous redhead who stole a soda and my heart in one shot.

  I raced out, past everyone, and to my new life. It was finally within my reach.

  Well, that changed. I was thinking about you as I hit that button, Bishop. I was picturing us on a date, you holding my hand, and that blue dress that had become my obsession.

  Then I nearly died.

  See, Wendy and I were done. What you also didn’t know was that I’d asked her to marry me to move up the ladder, and it was never out of love. I was taking a play out of my own father’s book—like he’d done with Starla. Wendy didn’t have my heart. She was a way to achieve what everyone expected of me.

  Success.

  I’ve never loved a woman before, but the day I saw you, I felt something. It began growing in me, battling back the cold. Bishop, she had nothing on you. She was part of the reason I was losing my soul. I knew I had to stop it. I was going to track you down. I was ready. When I didn’t ask you about her for those two day, it was because I woke up to you. I couldn’t believe you were holding my hand. I pushed you away then because I was scared about what I looked like. You didn’t deserve a monster. Reality set in. I couldn’t bear your pity. You didn’t upset me. I upset me. What could I give you now? I had nothing of value left. I was hideous, damaged, and a beast. What made me think I deserved someone like you?

  I lied and said you hurt me. It wasn’t true. I hurt me. That day, I damaged us both.

  Before, I had prestige, my career.

  After, I was nothing.

  God, Bishop! You deserve the sun, moon, and stars. Then I couldn’t give them to you. Then I wanted to make you proud, and that man was stripped away.

  I’m not proud of what I did.

  I’m the world’s biggest asshole. What kind of man hurts a woman the way I’ve hurt you? I know I don’t deserve to be near you. You were right, Bishop, but it was in the reverse. It was I who didn’t deserve you.

  You deserve more than I can ever even hope to give you. I know I’ll never live up to what should be yours in life. You’re loyal, kind, and the most beautiful human being inside and out.

  I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m tired of being that man, and I really hope that when you read this one day, if you even bother, you’ll forgive me. I promised myself that I’d tell you, even if it humiliated me, broke me, or made me nothing to you. You deserved to know.

  A part of me also prays that you won’t give up on me. One of us has to be the strong one, and we both know who that is.

  It’s always been you, Bish.

  It’s always been you.

  I’ll wait for you forever. It’s the least I can do to prove that you’re the only woman I ever wanted. Here’s my vow. I’ll die alone. I’ll never touch another woman after you. In my heart, you were always meant to be mine. So, I’ll pretend you are until God, or the devil, has mercy on my soul.

  I love you.

  Lucian.’

  When she finished, she was crying. She’d remembered those days. She’d remembered every single one of those moments. He did see her.

  Even when she thought he was out of her reach, out of her league, he wasn’t.

  “You’re not buying that, are you?” Roxy asked. “You can’t possibly trust a single thing that comes out of his mouth.”

  She looked up. “Yes, I am, and I do trust him.”

  She struggled to get out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “You’ve got a concussion and look like shit.”

  There was only one place she could go.

  Home.

  To her fiancé.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Saturday Morning

  Life was hell without her.

  He saw that now.

  When he’d gotten back to Graymoor, he wanted to burn it to the ground. The place seemed cold, empty, and the prison he believed it to be. He started drinking hard. He’d began numbing his pain, and for good reason.

  There was no way he could stay there.

  Yet, he couldn’t go.

  He had to hope she’d forgive him one day, and he’d promised to fight for her. So…he wouldn’t run—even if the loneliness swallowed him whole.

  He was going to keep his word to the woman he loved.

  In the darkness of the room, he sat in a wingback chair, whiskey in one hand, the anger festering in his gut.

  He’d made horrible choices and hurting Bishop had been the worst.

  He wanted to weep.

  He wanted to rage.

  He wanted to die.

  A part of him already had. He could tell the media they were getting married all he wanted, but it wouldn’t make it true. It wouldn’t save his heart.

  Or hers.

  Shit!

  He’d screwed this up. This was why beasts should be kept away from anyone but themselves. Innocent people got hurt when they went off the rails.

  His head ached from the visions, but he’d fought them off. They were trying to pull him under, but he battled against them, drinking his way through half of the bottle of whisky.

  He focused on Bishop.

  The entire time he kept drinking, knowing Avalon had been right.

  Booze wasn’t good for anyone with a gift. It numbed him. He couldn’t feel anything but his hate. His visions got weak, they faded, and he had silence.

  A part of him wondered how long suicide by bottle would take, and if Bishop would come to his funeral.

  It would be small.

  In fact, it would be non-existent.

  He was alone.

  God.

  He was going to die alone.

  Here was his fate. Lucian Monroe was going to die a lonely, broken man.

  The entire way there, Roxy tried to talk her out of it. Only Bishop wouldn’t hear it. She had managed to sneak out the back of her brownstone, down the alley, and to wait for Roxy to pick her up. The media was still camped outside her house, and they didn’t expect a single thing.

  She didn’t want him to know she was coming. Bishop wanted to catch him off guard, like he’d done. It would make him be honest. He wouldn’t have time to think.

  “You should think this through. He’s only a man. They aren’t worth it.”

  Bishop knew why Roxy used men like tissues, blowing them and moving on. Bishop hated that the woman didn’t get it. She loathed that Roxy was missing out on so much. Yes, love hurt, but it was one hell of a ride.

  She saw that now.

  “They aren’t all bad, Roxy. He’s a good man.”

  She laughed. “Bish, I love you. You’re like a sister, but he has you so tied up.”

  “I see it the other way. I have him tied up.”

  Roxy shook her head. “You’re nuts.”

  “What are you doing with the Marine?” she asked. “You’ve been screwing with him, haven’t you?”

  “It’s just sex.”

  Yeah, it was never just sex. She’d learned that. Lucian had learned that too. It was easy to have a one-night stand, but with each time, something was forged. Those bonds were created.

  One day, Roxy would see that.

  “Is it?”

  She shrugged.

  “You like him.”

  Roxy glanced over. “Bullshit. He’s an asshole. H
e tossed me over his shoulder and forced me against my will.”

  “He didn’t rape you, Roxy. He was trying to help Lucian reach me. If anything, that proves he’d help a friend out. He’s a good person.”

  “It’s the same thing in my world. Once they boss you around, they think they can do whatever. I grew up under that oppression. I won’t spend my life with it. I choose the man. I choose the outcome, and I choose to walk away.”

  Bishop knew Roxy’s father had abused her for a very long time. The wounds were deep. It was why she hated the world.

  It was why she hated men.

  “I think he likes you. When he’s watching you…”

  “Stop. This isn’t a fairytale. You may think it is, but it’s not. You can’t fall for their shit. They hurt you, they leave, or they break you into bits beneath their fists. It’s the truth, and we both know it.”

  She heard the tears and fear.

  “It’s okay. Don’t get upset. I’m sorry.”

  Roxy wiped at her eyes. “I hope you get your happily ever after, Bish. I really do. That’s just not out there for me. We can’t all be the princess in the ivory tower. No one will save me.”

  She was right. Sometimes, you had to do the saving—like now with Lucian.

  She held her hand. “I love you, Roxy. I love you to the moon and back, and I’m sorry.”

  Yeah, so was she.

  “We’re here,” she said, pulling up to the gate.

  Bishop gave her the code. “Drop me off. I’ll see you at the morgue.”

  “You’re not working.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  Roxy pointed at her. “I’ll call Silas.”

  “And I’ll tell him off for making a mess. I promise that if I can’t do it, I won’t. Maybe I’ll hang at my office and let the Feds do the heavy lifting.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  She stopped the car. “If you need me, Bish, you call. I’ll always come running.”

  She knew Roxy would.

  “Same here, chickadee. I got your back, bitch.”

  She hugged her. “I love you, Bish. Good luck.”

  She watched her friend get out and cross the parking area. Roxy really hoped she knew what the hell she was doing.