The Man Who Has No Heart (Soulless 2)

“I never said they’re anything alike.”

“But you’re implying they are. You don’t want to be in a relationship because your ex-wife was a psycho bitch. Well, Cleo isn’t a psycho bitch. She’s someone who gets you. She’s patient with you—a lot more than anyone else I’ve ever seen. When I talk shit about you, she shuts me down. She always has your back, man.”

I looked away.

“I just want to clarify that for you, so you don’t make a mistake.”

“Make a mistake?”

“Yeah. Because Cleo isn’t going to wait around forever. She’s going to eventually give up hope and move on with her life.”

“You’re still making a huge assumption. I’m her boss. Maybe she does have feelings for me, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be with me. She’s really dedicated to her work, and I doubt she’d want to make that complicated.”

“Now you’re the one making assumptions…”

I glared at him.

“I just don’t want you to lose something really great because you’re scared—”

“I’m not scared. I wasted five years of my life with—”

“The wrong person. Cleo is not the wrong person.”

“And you assume she’s the right person?” I snapped.

“Absolutely. And you know it too, Deacon.”

I couldn’t take his gaze any longer, so I looked away.

He continued to stare.

I shook my head. “Look… I’m broken. I’m not capable of giving another person that level of intimacy, of commitment. I just started over. I need time.”

“Deacon, you don’t have to marry her. And you already do give her that level of intimacy and commitment. I’ve seen you two together—”

“It’s not the same.” I grew frustrated again, forced to think about things I never entertained. I liked the relationship Cleo and I had, where we were friends…close friends. I had someone good in my life, and I didn’t want to mess it up by making it more. The anger and bitterness from my marriage were still potent. I didn’t want anyone to expect anything of me, to be tied down to a woman. “You’ve said your piece. Now, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. And I don’t want to talk about it again.”

Tucker stared at me for a while, like he was disappointed.

I turned to the waitress and ordered another beer, trying to push away the thoughts.

But my brother continued to stare.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing…”

Six

Cleo

I knew something was wrong.

The second I stepped into his residence, I could feel the change in energy. It was subtle but unmistakable.

He sat at the dining table and stared at his laptop, not acknowledging me…like this was five months into the past. “Hey…”

He shut his laptop and didn’t look at me.

“Where’s your—”

“You must be Cleo.” His mother came into the room, dressed in a cream twinset, a diamond necklace, and tan slacks. Her short hair was curled, and she had an infectious joy to her personality. “I’m Margo.” She walked up to me, smiling, and shook my hand. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” I shook her hand. “Are you excited to see the place today?”

“Very much so.” She turned to Deacon and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He showed me pictures, and it looks lovely.”

He barely looked up at her.

“Just let me grab my purse.” She walked down the hallway to the guest room.

I turned back to Deacon.

He got to his feet, wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. He slid his phone into his pocket and acted like I didn’t exist.

What the fuck had happened?

I wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time.

Margo returned, and we headed downstairs and got into the private SUV. I sat in the third-row seating and watched the two of them interact.

“Wow, this is a nice neighborhood.” Margo talked to her son as if nothing was wrong, as if his behavior wasn’t peculiar to her.

When he’d first arrived in Manhattan, this was how his personality was, cold and silent. So, maybe she didn’t notice the difference. Maybe I was the only one who noticed because he was different with me than everyone else.

“When is Derek going to visit?” she asked.

“Soon.” He didn’t say much at all.

We pulled up to the building.

“Oh wow,” Margo said. “It’s so close to you. I already like it.”

We took the elevator to her floor and met with the real estate agent and the assistant I’d interviewed for several hours. She was the most qualified for the position, having multiple clients that I could verify.

“Margo, this is Lily,” I said as I introduced them. “Lily and I have become very well acquainted over our series of phone calls, and I think she’s going to be a great fit for you.”

“Like my own Cleo?” Margo asked.

“Yes,” I said, noticing Margo’s high energy was so different from Deacon’s.

“Let me show you around.” The real estate agent took Lily and Margo into the other rooms of the apartment.

Deacon immediately walked away, moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the dining room. It was a scaled-down version of his condo, the same level of luxury on a much smaller scale. He looked out the window with his hands in his pockets. He still stood strong and rigid, his broad shoulders powerful, but there were subtle differences to his appearance, stuff only I noticed.