Carly Phillips - Cross My Heart

“What’s going on?” he asked Hunter, needing answers.

Hunter drew a long breath before speaking. “Dumont’s planning to have Lilly declared legally dead and claim her trust fund as his own.”

Ty didn’t wait for the words to penetrate before reacting, slamming his fist onto the top of the bar. “Son of a bitch.”

All the old anger and resentment that Ty had spent years nurturing, then burying, welled up inside him once more. Dumont may have brought Lilly into Ty’s life but he’d also been the reason Ty had lost her for good. He’d never forgive the man for that or for the abuse he’d heaped onto Lilly in the years before they’d met.

As the reality of Hunter’s news set in, the past returned, surrounding Ty as if were happening today. The blood pounded in his head, his feelings raw. First Hunter had come into Ty’s home, somehow breaching the walls he’d erected since his father had walked out. Then Lilly had arrived and it was as if the small hole he’d made for Hunter had weakened his barriers and they’d come tumbling down. He’d paid for that over many long lonely years but he couldn’t regret meeting or caring about Lilly.

For a short time he’d learned to open his heart. Ty had gone from a loner to a guy surrounded by his best friend and his best girl-at least that’s how he’d thought of her at the time, although they’d never had the chance to really act on the feelings simmering below the surface. Maybe they’d been smart enough, even at their young age, to put the friendship first. Maybe time just hadn’t been on their side. Ty would never know. Because too soon a letter came, indicating her abusive uncle’s intent to have her returned to his custody, and the three friends had put their plan into motion.

“Hard to believe, Dumont has the balls after all these years, huh?” Hunter asked.

Ty glanced heavenward. “I wish we’d looked ahead and seen this one coming.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “This from the man who insisted we never speak of the night again?”

“Shut up,” Ty muttered, hating when his own words came back to haunt him.

But his friend had a point. Like a fool, Ty had thought if he never spoke about Lilly again, he’d be able to get her out of his system. Believed he’d be able to forget her.

Cross my heart. Her softly spoken words returned to him now. The last time he’d seen her, she’d promised she’d never forget him. As hard as he tried, he hadn’t been able to block her out of his memory, either. No matter how painful he found it to think of what might have been, he’d thought of Lilly often. He still did.

From the minute he’d watched her plop his baseball cap on her head and walk off, Ty had wanted nothing more than to go with her. For days he’d struggled with the idea of taking off after her. But he’d stayed home because his mother needed him. Ty knew Flo couldn’t handle her son running off so soon after Lilly had disappeared and she deserved better than two heartbreaks so close together. Three if he counted Hunter being taken away from them as well. But Ty had missed Lilly every damn day since.

Years later, he’d given in to temptation. Ty had made some cop contacts in New York and with their help, he’d done some surface digging for Lacey Kinkaid, the name they’d chosen. From there, it had been surprisingly simple to discover that she was alive and well.

Ty hadn’t taken it any further. He hadn’t contacted her. She’d obviously moved forward with her life and he couldn’t see disturbing those ghosts. Ty himself had insisted on a clean break. And though he’d made that initial choice, she’d followed his instructions. She hadn’t contacted him, not after she’d turned twenty-one and had nothing to fear from her uncle. And not years later when she was an independent woman capable of making her own decisions.

On the nights when he second-guessed his decision, he told himself that his feelings for her had been nothing more than infatuation or puppy love, as the parents of the runaway teens that he tracked now often labeled their children’s hormonal emotions. He’d done some pretty fine convincing, too. She couldn’t be as pretty as he remembered. Her skin couldn’t be as soft. Her scent wouldn’t still wind its way into his heart. All those things must have been an illusion built on the things Lilly represented. The wealthy heiress whose guardian had turned her out of her home, denied her her fortune, and left her fragile and in need of someone strong to take care of her.

Ty had willingly stepped in and filled the role, but deep down, he knew that Lilly was tougher than he gave her credit for and didn’t need him as much as he’d wanted to be needed. She’d run away to the city and thrived there, proving she wasn’t the fragile princess he’d put up on a pedestal. And thank God she wasn’t, or else she wouldn’t have survived, while he’d been living pretty well off of money his mother never should have taken.

“I knew this wasn’t going to be easy on any of us,” Hunter said. “But you’re looking green. Are you okay?”

Ty cleared his throat. “I’m fine. How’d you find out about Dumont?” Ty asked.

“Indirectly through Molly Gifford.”

“The chick you knew in law school?”

Hunter nodded. “I ran into her at the courthouse today.”

“Has she agreed to date you yet?” Ty laughed, certain his friend had at least given it another try.

“No, but I’m making progress. Unfortunately the timing of her turnaround sucks. Her mother’s going to marry Dumont, which leaves her as my only link to information on the man.” He shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable in the role he’d have to take on.

“No shit? Molly’s mother is going to marry the bastard?”

Hunter’s reply was to finish his drink in one gulp.

“Then you are going to have to turn up the charm.”

“And she’s going to see right through me,” Hunter said and winked. But despite his cocky grin, he was obviously not pleased at the connection.

Ty poured his friend another shot. “But you’ll do it to help Lilly?”

Hunter inclined his head. “Do I have a choice? We’re tied together, the three of us. I helped her then and I’ll help her now.”

Because he cared about Lilly, too. In all the years of their friendship, they’d never spoken about Hunter’s unrequited feelings or the competition between the men that never had time to develop. Another reason Lilly’s return would be uncomfortable for all involved.

“So we’re in agreement?” Ty asked. “Dumont has no right to the money.” Ty bent his head from side to side, trying to work the stiff muscles in his neck but the tension remained. His life was about to change drastically.

“We’re in agreement. But you were right. We should have thought about the future,” Hunter said. “About her trust fund and what would happen years down the road. But we didn’t. And now Lilly is going to have to deal with that part of her life.”

Affecting all their lives in the process, Ty thought.

“Lilly needs to be told.” Hunter spoke with quiet certainty.

“Lacey. She’s Lacey now,” Ty said, already forcing himself to begin the mental shift necessary to meet with the woman Lilly had become.

“Lacey needs to be told that Dumont plans to have her declared legally dead and live large on her parents’ money.”

Ty’s head began to pound. Hunter’s words reminded Ty that his mother had done exactly that.

Hunter eyed Ty warily. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Ty shrugged. “Maybe not but it’s true. We thought Lacey was just another foster kid, but she wasn’t. My mother took money from Dumont to take Lilly in. Unofficially, off the books, off the record. He paid her to take his niece until he felt she’d learned her lesson and would come home easier to control.”

“Your mother didn’t know Dumont’s reasons at the time. She thought she was helping out a man who didn’t know how to handle his out-of-control niece and she was getting money to give you a better life in the process. He offered her an opportunity and she took it.”

Ty nodded. He still dealt with what his mother had done. Still lived with a measure of guilt over the lifestyle they’d had, using money that had rightfully belonged to Lilly.

“You paid your dues, not that you owed any. Dropping out of college was self-punishment if you ask me. Who did you benefit?” Hunter asked.

“My own pride. I could look myself in the mirror each morning.” It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation but it was the first time Ty had explained because he sensed Hunter already understood.

Hunter nodded. “Fate’s providing the chance for you to give Lilly back what she lost. Go find her and tell her to come back and claim her fortune.”

Ty ran his hand through his too-long hair. He needed a cut, he thought, wishing he could focus on something so trivial.

“She has a lot of bad memories here.” Ty took his friend’s advice, pouring himself a stiff drink of his own. He gulped a sip of fiery liquid and savored the burn on the way down.

“She’s an adult. There’s nothing here that can hurt her anymore except old ghosts,” Hunter said.

“Something we all need to deal with.” Ty swirled the liquid in his glass.

“Think she’ll be easy to find?”

“You know me when I’m determined.” Ty forced a cocky grin and raised his glass.

The kicker was that he’d had no trouble at all locating her that first time. Lilly had been living as Lacey Kinkaid, but she used her real social security number and she legally filed taxes. If her uncle had tried to search again years later, after Lilly had become a successful businesswoman, he might have found her after all. He’d just had no reason not to believe she’d perished in the deep, dark waters that fateful night. Thank goodness for Lacey their plan had been a success.

Although Ty had found an address for her five years ago, who knew how many times she’d moved since then. Still, he wasn’t too worried. He had his connections and his ways.

Hunter lifted his glass in return. “Good luck.”

“Something tells me I’ll need it,” Ty said, tipping his glass to meet Hunter’s.

The clinking noise that usually signaled a celebration sounded like a warning instead.

Lacey Kinkaid glanced at her newest employee, a young Spanish girl who spoke broken English and had no experience at doing odd jobs around New York City or anywhere else for that matter. But she needed the job badly and Lacey knew exactly what the desperation she saw in Serena’s eyes felt like, prompting Lacey to hire her anyway. When she’d first met Serena, Lacey had also let the young girl sleep on her sofa, just as Marina, the woman who’d helped Lacey out way back when, had done.

She shook her head, pushing the past away as she always did when memories threatened to surface. The present was all that mattered and in the present, her job defined her. When Lacey wasn’t doing some of the different jobs her clients required, she was smoothing over crises between employees and clients of her small company, aptly titled Odd Jobs.

“What exactly is the problem?” Lacey asked Amanda Goodwin, a client who used Lacey’s services weekly and had been a valuable source of referrals.

“She,” Amanda said, pointing her manicured fingernails toward Serena, “doesn’t understand English. Her cleaning skills are wonderful, but her English isn’t. I needed to explain something so I spoke to her in Spanish. She burst into tears and called you.”

Lacey nodded. Serena tended to cry easily, which could cause problems on the job. “What exactly did you say to her? In Spanish, if you don’t mind.” Lacey kept a comforting hand on Serena’s shoulder as she spoke.

Lacey had become close to fluent in Spanish during her early days in New York City. She’d discovered her high school Spanish had come in handy and allowed her to pick up the language easily, which helped, since she’d needed a job and the only person who’d hired her was a woman named Marina who ran a cleaning service comprised mostly of immigrant girls. What she didn’t know, Marina taught her, tutoring Lacey at night so she could not only speak Spanish, but she could get her GED high school diploma.

After arriving in New York, Lilly had taken the name of Lacey Kinkaid and used it religiously out of fear of being found out by her uncle. Later, when she’d become an adult and wanted to form a business, she knew she needed to do things legally. Although she went by the name of Lacey Kinkaid, her legal documents still read Lilly Dumont. Few people questioned, less cared, and at this point, her uncle wouldn’t think to look for her.

She glanced at her client, silently asking her to explain what was wrong.

“I wanted to tell her not to feed the dog.” The other woman pointed to the Pomeranian, a dust-mop of a dog lying at her owner’s feet. “So I said, por favor no comas al perro.” Amanda folded her arms across her chest, obviously pleased with her ability to communicate with the hired help.