Breaking Out (The Surrender Trilogy 2)

“I know and I’m sorry. I had a lot on my mind, but I decided last night I needed to get over myself.”

“What does that mean, get over yourself?”

“It means I was being an ass and I’m over it. We have this whole week here and I want to leave everything else behind and make the best of it.”

“You say that like things were terrible before. If you’re not happy—”

“No, Evelyn. I’m happy. I love you and as long as you know that, even when I act like a jerk, we can get through anything.”

“It just seems like something’s changed. I . . . I heard you on the phone the other day, talking to someone.”

He frowned. “And?”

“I . . .” She wasn’t a weakling. She had never been the type to beat around the bush, but the pain of actually imagining he was seeing someone else cut deep. “I . . . I just want you to be honest with me.”

He waited for her to go on.

Looking away she bolstered her courage and the words rushed out. “Are you seeing someone else, Lucian?”

“What? Why would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been so distant lately. I don’t know what to make of all these mood swings you’ve been having. I just want things to be the way they usually are. If you want to see other people—”

“Evelyn, I do not want to see other people. God, how could you even think that?”

She looked at him. He appeared genuinely shocked she could assume such a thing. In a small voice she said, “What if I’m not enough?”

“What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “Before . . . you and Slade and Monique.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That was nothing compared to what we have. It was totally different.”

“I know. My point is, maybe that’s the problem. You never talk about her. You’ve pretty much shunned Slade since we’ve been together.”

“Slade is a regrettable part of my life on more levels than I can explain.”

“He was your friend.”

“Was.”

She swallowed. “What about Monique?”

“What about her?”

They never talked about her. “Did you love her?”

Lucian leaned back in his chair, but looked away. “In a way. She was with me for so long she became a part of my life, but it isn’t the same as what I feel for you. It never would’ve been, either. With Monique it was . . . different.”

“Because of Slade?”

“Because of a lot of things. Monique was work. She was materialistic and loved me for my name. Sometimes I think if I had been just an average Joe she would have left me and run off into the sunset with my partner.”

“I don’t understand how a relationship can work between three people.”

“It doesn’t. If Monique were still alive I don’t think we would have been together at this point. I’m too possessive to share. I think I could only share her because I knew deep down she didn’t love me and I didn’t love her. I cared about her, but that was it.”

“Do you have any pictures of her?” She needed to see what this woman looked like.

“Of course I do, but Evelyn, why do you care?”

“She was a part of your life for several years. I feel like I’m not entitled to ask about those years because they belonged to another woman.”

“I never belonged to her.”

Silence settled around them. She didn’t think the topic of Monique would be one to come up again anytime soon, so she asked, “How did she die?”

No matter how much he claimed not to love Monique, he clearly felt responsible for her. His expression melted into etched lines of regret.

“She loved fast cars. Slade spoiled her. One day he brought home a beautiful Harley Davidson. None of us had ever ridden before, but Monique was impatient. I hated that bike the minute it was delivered. It was too big for her. I told her she was not to ride it and she threw a fit. I think Slade enjoyed that she often went to him for sympathy when I was too firm. Luckily, he also told her she needed to learn how to ride before she went off on her own. We arranged for a professional to come to the house and teach her the basics. He was supposed to come back the following day to give her a lesson.

“Monique didn’t wait for him to return. I had a meeting and Slade was in the shower. He didn’t hear her pull away. Dugan was driving me back from the city when we hit some traffic on a road that was never busy. I think I knew the moment I saw the flares lined up along the shoulder and the strobe of red lights flickering against the windshield.

“She died on impact. Slade bought the bike, but I think he blames me for not having the foresight that she would ride no matter what. What was I supposed to do, take the keys? I forbade her to ride that damn thing, but she didn’t listen. Monique liked to play the submissive, but she had more control issues than any woman should. I’m still mad at her for being so damn stupid.”