The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 50

FIFTY

Lissie

Three weeks later…

“ I t was the reason.”

“I know,” I tell my sister. “And what was worse was that you never asked me if it was what I wanted. If you disappearing to the other side of the world was what I needed.”

I swallow, looking out into the darkened garden.

“Why didn’t you stop me? You acted like it was a good idea to leave.”

I think about it and how I truly felt at the time. “I thought it was. I didn’t know you felt how you did back then. Not in the way I realised when Willow was born. I guess I knew you had Joe and his family in Australia. They wanted to be there for Willow, and you said you wanted to go.” I twist my head to look at her. “There’s not a lot I wouldn’t have done to make you happy, Jove.” I smile sadly at her. “Still isn’t.”

“I should have told you about Mum and Dad.”

“You did,” I correct her. “Eventually. It’s not like I ever made it easy to speak about them.”

“I avoided telling you. I was scared you’d be mad at me and then got defensive when you did.” She drops her head to my arm, hugging it to her. “I am sorry, Lis. I would never intentionally hurt you like that.”

I close my eyes at my name, the way only the two most important people in my life shorten it.

“It’s okay. I appreciate you apologising.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Can I ask you something? Something that might upset you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

She hesitates, and it makes my stomach twist. “The reason you can’t have children. It was the fall that damaged your womb, wasn’t it?”

I close my eyes, rolling my lips before letting out a deep exhale. “Why would you ask that?”

“Mum said something to me. She asked me how much you’d told me about it. But she knows that I knew about the operations.”

With my baby sister’s head on my shoulder, I consider how she would feel if she ever found out the whole truth. If she knew all they’ve really done to me.

I sometimes forget how young Jovie was when everything happened. How young she still is now at nineteen.

And isn’t her own trauma enough? Enough to live through and carry and overcome. If she can take what happened to her and find a way to forgive them for that, isn’t that all that matters? Her happiness.

“You know everything, Jove,” I reassure her. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s silly,” she counters. “You know I will always worry. Maybe not as much as you do but?—”

I chuckle at the same time my phone chimes.

My heart twinges.

“Like clockwork,” Jovie muses, picking up the half-empty wine bottle between us and taking a swig. “I need a handbook on how to find a man who will send me calendar memos to let me know when he gets home.”

“That’s a good idea. And how to get other women pregnant and then leave you when you get upset about it?”

She tuts. “I thought you said you weren’t angry.”

“I’m not,” I tell her, staring at my socks. “I’m just sad.”

“You already know what I think of the man.”

I do. Regardless of the situation we’re in, and the fact he vandalised our parents’ home, my sister is rooting for Charlie.

I’m not sure even Nina is putting in quite the shift that Jovie is.

“I don’t think he’ll cave, you know. Not after what you said about the letter.”

I wiggle my toes. “I know he won’t.”

Because he thinks he’s right and that I need this.

And I’m too stubborn to tell him that I don’t.

“You should go and see him. Make the first move.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I will cry.” I sigh. “Just one of many reasons it’s a terrible idea. Crying doesn’t get you?—”

“Anywhere in life,” she finishes for me. “Yeah, and our dad’s a dick.”

I purse my lips.

“You can’t hide your emotions, Lis. Charlie isn’t our parents.”

“He left, Jove. Not the other way around. Why would I go chasing after him?”

“Because he’s rotting in a world of guilt. A text,” she pleads. “Why not try a text message.”

I shake my head. “No.”

I can’t.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to leaning on my shoulder. “You can take the girl out of the traumatic childhood, but you can’t take the traumatic childhood?—”

With a light chuckle, I push her away. “What is wrong with you?”

She stands, taking the wine bottle with her. “Wrong? I’m just quick witted and gorgeous.”

I smile, watching as she takes another sip.

“Text him.”

Standing, I take the wine from her and walk into the kitchen. “What would I say, Jove?” I ask, humouring her.

“Ooo…” She follows, shutting the back door behind the dogs. “You have the most beautiful blue eyes.”

I laugh.

“Come home, Cop boy .”

“That’s actually gross now.”

“You brought that one to the table all by yourself and with confidence.” She points at me. “Don’t act like I’m the weird one. With your weird little Charlie boy fetish.”

“Go to bed.”

“Text him.”

“Good night, Jovie.”

She laughs and heads for the stairs. “I love you, Lis.”

“I love you, too.” I stare at the countertop, remembering. “More,” I add, whispering the words.

I sigh, listening to her disappear into the spare room, the floorboards creaking above my head.

Other than the odd text message, I barely spoke to my sister for two months. And for a time, I felt sick to my stomach over it, knowing it would take a while to mend our relationship.

Turns out it didn’t take more than ten minutes. Not really. We might have needed to have the conversation we had tonight, but the minute Jovie put her arms around me when she showed up in the living room, I knew we’d be all right.

I knew that she was my sister, and that was all that mattered.

I stare down at my phone on the kitchen counter, wondering if sending Charlie a message could be a good idea like Jovie suggested.

For the past three weeks, I’ve had his friends message and show up at my door constantly, checking in, bringing me meals.

He cares, I know he does, but I think I’m just afraid of what I’ll feel if he doesn’t respond.

I pick up my phone, my heart in my throat as I swipe across the screen.

Home

1 Hyde Park Gardens

He’s not missed one night, letting me know where he is and that he’s home so that I won’t worry.

I miss you, Charles. Very much.

I stare at my phone after I quickly hit send, my eyes going wide.

Reading it back, my insides heat, the message delivering. I drop the phone to the counter. “Oh, god, why have I sent that?”

I pace the kitchen, my stomach in knots.

I could have said anything.

My phone chimes, and I rush to pick it up.

Jovie

Text him

I quickly swipe out of my messages and turn everything off downstairs, making my way up to bed with the dogs following.

I lie staring at my bedside table for over three hours with not one single notification appearing on my phone.

Charlie

I swipe a hand over my face as I stare at Lissie’s message from last night.

This message has been deleted

I heard my phone go off when I got out of the shower, but with the way Mason and Elliot have been constantly checking up on me, I didn’t check my messages.

Not even first thing this morning did I think to look.

I’m a fucking idiot.

I want to text her and apologise, but it’s gone ten a.m., and she’ll be at work already. I’m not even certain what to say. That I was ignoring my phone for the night?

No excuse is good enough, and she wouldn’t believe it anyway.

I wouldn’t believe it.

I need to see her.

She deserves more than a text message.

I’m just not sure that’s the right thing to do. Not after seeing the pain she was in before I left.

I grab my keys from the sideboard in Mason’s entryway and walk into the waiting lift, dropping my head back as it takes me to the parking garage.

I’ve never felt more conflicted.

Knowing all I need is her when the last thing she needs is me.

I sigh and walk from the lift.

When I pull up to the traffic lights at the end of my street, I know driving straight on will take me to headquarters where I’ll sit staring at files for the rest of my morning, my thoughts lost to her. I look to the right of me…or I can cut across everyone and make the right turn, and I’ll head towards Thameside Prison.

It’s been nearly two months since I stopped visiting Lance.

There’ve been moments when I’ve thought about him, moments I’ve been angry at myself for letting him down, but then I remember that he’d see me sat there for hours at a time, refusing my visits.

I miss the quiet understanding we shared as friends. The way he knew he could come to me with anything, and I knew I could do the same.

I think sitting in the waiting room, him with the knowledge that I was there and me with the time and quiet to think, was our way of continuing what we were as friends.

My head has never been more fucked.

At the first flash of amber, and I indicate, checking my mirrors before I swing my car across the waiting traffic.

I step through the prison entrance with my head down, my eyes tired, and my heart weighted in my chest.

I feel stupid for showing up here when I know Lance won’t see me, and I’m thankful that Jenny isn’t on the front desk when I look up, a member of security sitting in her place.

“Charles Aldridge for Lance Sullivan,” I tell the man, looking around the waiting room.

“Lance Sullivan?” the guard asks, frowning. “I have your name down already. About forty minutes ago. Just a minute, sorry.”

He pushes back from the desk, taking the piece of paper with him.

Jenny appears a moment later. “Charles, hello.” She flicks her eyes behind me, her face reddening. “Seems to be a mistake on the check-in this morning.” She frowns as if whatever she’s looking for in the waiting room isn’t where she left it.

I nod.

“I’ve not seen your face around here in a while, are you?—”

Her eyes flash, tracking motion as they flick over my shoulder.

I follow her line of sight, the world jarring when I spot Lissie stepping out of the bathroom.

“Lissie?” I turn fully, frowning.

She snaps her head up at the sound of my voice and the sight of her…of her cream pantsuit, long dark hair, down and curled, her makeup lighter than she’d normally wear to work.

She looks good.

She looks beautiful.

Completely breathtaking, actually, and I lift my hand to my chest, rubbing it.

Silence ensues, her eyes flicking around my face, maybe studying me as thoroughly as I her.

It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen her, and yet it feels like a lifetime.

And if ever I needed confirmation that this woman is it for me, which I don’t, let the ache, the beat, the sound of my heart in this moment be the proof.

Her eyes glaze, and I frown, watching as she turns to pack up her things.

I stand transfixed, my head and heart in two different time zones.

Because why is she here?

I turn to look at Jenny.

“Mr Aldridge,” she says, looking between Lissie and me. “I can explain the mix-up. I’m sorry for my unprofessionalism. I know you’re extremely influential in the?—”

I hold my hand up, my frown only hardening.

My mind drifts back to what the guard had said. How my name was already logged forty minutes ago.

I look from Jenny to Lissie.

She came here under my name?

With her things bundled in her bag, she makes her way to the doors, ready to leave.

My feet set in motion after her.

“Lissie, wait,” I say, walking up the steps and into the car park.

She doesn’t stop.

“Lissie.”

She turns, barely looking at me, focusing on anything but. “What?”

I lock my jaw and come to a stop a few feet away. “ What ?” I question. “Lis,” I plead.

She allows her eyes to meet mine, and they instantly fill with tears.

Angry tears.

“I can’t stand to see you cry,” I tell her, stepping forward.

“I’m not crying,” she defends, staring through me.

I nod, keeping my hands at my sides so that I don’t reach out and touch her like I so desperately want to. “What are you doing here, Lissie?” I ask, although I think I already know.

She looks away, swiping at the tear that leaks free.

I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone as stubborn as her.

“Have you been here before?” I try.

She eventually glances up at me. “I didn’t realise you’d be here. I wouldn’t have…”

I stare through her in a bid to stop the burn. “Is this the first time?”

She clenches her jaw, looking away again. “You said you couldn’t stand the idea of Lance not having someone show up for him.” She closes her eyes, her knees bobbing. “That you didn’t want him to think you gave up on him.”

My eyes drift closed, my heart growing too big in my chest, too fast. “How long have you been coming?”

I feel her stare on me and pin her with my own, needing to see her.

Her beautiful brown eyes swim with tears, and my gut coils. “Since you stopped.”

I step back, the guilt I’ve lived in and carried with me since stopping these visits, and she’s been showing up for me the whole time?

“You came here for me?”

She shrugs. “In the moment, it seemed like the smallest of things I could do to make your life a little less heavy.”

I love her so fucking much.

“But that was a different time. I had no right coming here without asking you first.”

She turns to walk away, but I reach out to stop her.

“Lissie.”

She shrugs me off. “Don’t.”

I search her eyes, needing her to stay. “Lis…please don’t walk away right now.”

Her face screws up as she backs away almost apologetically. “If I had it in me to have this conversation, I still wouldn’t have it. Maybe in three weeks, you’ll find it within yourself, and we can sit down and…and pretend none of this ever happened? I’m guessing that’s how you thought this would go?”

My heart sails down the middle of my chest.

Her text.

The one she deleted.

“I didn’t see your message until this morning. I wasn’t?—”

“You left me, Charlie.”

“Because my staying was hurting you. I only wanted to put a stop to that. I couldn’t sit back and watch you get more and more?—”

“I would have watched you!” she interrupts. “Stop telling me you did this for me. That you don’t want to see me hurting when you know full well that I’m hurting more than I ever was when you were beside me.” Rage flares in her eyes. “You pleaded with me to show my emotions, and the second I did, the second I broke, you left.”

“No.” I shake my head, frowning. “That’s not how?—”

“You wrote it in a letter!” she snaps, voice breaking. “And tell me again that you did this for my own good, Charles, and I will walk away and never look back.”

Panic ravishes me.

“I promised to walk, and you swore you’d run, but damn you for being the honest man that you are. You didn’t just catch me up, you ran a million miles right by me.”

I watch as she climbs into the Jag, her frustration and anger clear as she fights to put the car into reverse.

When she eventually finds it, she doesn’t even glance towards me before she turns the car around and drives out of the carpark, the wheels skidding over the gravel.

I stand for a solid ten seconds before I climb into my car and follow her.