He’s hauled to his feet, and he levels his gaze with Lily. Tears glisten along the rims of her hazel eyes. God, it pains him he may never see her face again. “I’m sorry,” he says, for abandoning her when she needed him. For not being the brother she deserves. Then he looks at Shiloh,his expression ravaged. “I’m sorry.” For breaking his promise. For not being able to protect her.
“He’s good,” she cries to the police. “He’s a good man. He didn’t do anything wrong. I’m fine, see?” She pounds her chest. “I wanted to stay with him. I don’t want to go home. Don’t take him.” She looks from Olivia to Lily then to Sophie, but it seems no one is listening to her. “Don’t let them take him away. He’s a good man. He’s good. He’s good.” She sobs, and Lucas’s heart cracks wide open for her. He never thought himself capable, he never imagined himself worthy of someone coming to his defense so passionately. But in the worst moment of his life, as a father would a daughter, he couldn’t love someone more.
“I’m sorry,” he tells her one last time. Then the officers take him away.
37
48 hours later
Lucas is escorted down a wide, sterile hallway, handcuffed and dressed in a drab cement-hued jumpsuit. He was told someone was here to see him. His attorney, Lee Bailey, just left, and he fears Lily’s the one waiting for him. Jail is the last place he wants to have his first conversation with her. He doesn’t even want to see her until he clears his name, assuming that’s a possibility.
Frankly, he’s surprised he’s allowed visitors. He hasn’t been arraigned yet.
Officer Toth opens a door to a windowless room and moves aside for Lucas to enter. Seated across the table facing him is Olivia. He doesn’t realize how tense he was until he sees her and his shoulders relax.
“Ten minutes,” Toth says, and points at a camera in the corner. “We can see you. Don’t try anything futile.” He leaves the room. The metal door bangs behind him, echoing in the small room.
“What are you doing here?” he asks his sister.
“Are you cuffed?” she asks, appalled.
He lifts his hands. “Flight risk.”
“Are you serious?” She sneers.
He settles in the seat across from her, dropping his hands onto the table. The cuffs clatter on the metal surface. “Good to see you, prince-sis,” he says at an attempt for levity. Though nothing about his situationis funny. The charges against him aren’t for murder, but they are serious and carry a hefty sentence.
She scowls at him. “Cut the crap. I really hate you right now.” Her bottom lip quivers, and she looks away. She inhales a shaky breath, and he wants to reach across the table for her hand, but he doesn’t dare touch her. She’s angry with him and has every right to be. When she turns back, she says, “What were you thinking, running off with that girl?”
Anger bunches the muscles in his arms. “I wasn’t running off with her,” he says, coming to Shiloh’s and his defense. “She got into some trouble, and I was helping her. I was going to bring her home.”
“Then why the hell were you at the Grove?”
He wants to tell her he was there to apologize to Lily, but that’s a bigger conversation for another day, and with his other sister. The corner of his mouth lifts. “Would you believe Shiloh’s a big fan? She asked me to take her.”
“Well, it was irresponsible on your part, especially with your warrant. Speaking of which, why are you still here? I thought you posted bail.”
He sighs. “For the traffic violations. Arraignment’s day after tomorrow for the other stuff.”
Olivia shakes her head. “You caused quite the scene,” she says, bitter.
He looks at his cuffed wrists. His palms shake. “I know. I’m sorry.” There’s so much he regrets.
“It made the news. You were onEntertainment TonightandTMZ. We all were.”
He sags in the chair, his hands dropping into his lap, defeated. What a mess he made. “Shit, Liv. Tell Lily I’m sorry.”
“Tell her yourself.”
His pulse rate spikes. “Do not let her come here. I don’t want her to see me like this.”
“Why? Because it’s so much worse than getting taken down by four cops in front of a thousand people?”
He clenches his jaw.
Olivia covers her face and swears into her hands. “Sorry. I didn’t come here to argue,” she says, dragging her hands through her hair. She holds her waves from her face.
“Why are you here?”