The Man Who Has No Heart (Soulless Book 2) Read online

  The Man Who Has No Heart

  Soulless #2

  Victoria Quinn

  Hartwick Publishing

  The Man Who Has No Heart

  Copyright © 2020 by Victoria Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  One

  Deacon

  On Monday morning, the driver picked us up and returned us to the city.

  The magical weekend was over.

  It fucking hurt.

  Derek looked out the window during the drive, mesmerized by the large pine trees, the boulders, the mountainsides. Once we were in the city, he didn’t seem as interested in his surroundings, so he pulled out one of his books.

  He and I were the same.

  We arrived at the building, and Matt grabbed our bags and carried them to the condo.

  I didn’t have much time with Derek because Cleo would take him away any minute.

  When we got to my condo, I made him a big meal, grilled chicken with asparagus and Brussels sprouts.

  He ate without complaint, but he preferred the pizza we’d had all weekend.

  I sat across from him at the dining table, my heart sliding further into my stomach as the clock ticked away. I barely had a few days with him, and it just wasn’t enough. I wanted him every day, wanted to take him to the cabin every weekend.

  He finished his food then sat there. “When do I have to go?”

  “Soon.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Now.”

  Derek looked just as sad as I did.

  I moved to the front door. “Come in, Cleo.”

  She stepped inside, wearing her pencil skirt and blouse, back to her professionalism. She looked at me like nothing was different, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. “I wish I were here for a better reason…”

  I turned back to Derek. “Come on.”

  He left the dining table and grabbed his suitcase, wheeling it with him. “Hey, Cleo.”

  She smiled. “Hey, Derek.” She pulled back the sleeve of her blouse and checked the time. “Well, I’ll give you a few minutes…” She turned away.

  I kneeled in front of him, unsure what to say. The last time I’d said goodbye to him, I cried in the back seat of the car on the way to the airport, so distraught I didn’t care about the driver’s opinion. Now I had to do it again.

  Derek stared at me, his brown eyes possessing that same intense gaze. “When can I come back?”

  “I’ll talk to your mother about it.” I assumed Valerie was on speaking terms with me again, so maybe we could work out some kind of arrangement. But I hated having my son go back and forth on a plane all the time. It was a long flight, too long for a weekend getaway.

  “Could I come live with you?”

  He was a smart kid, but he wouldn’t be able to understand a marital spat. “Probably not, Derek. But we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  “Okay.” He dropped his gaze.

  I sighed before I hugged him, held him in my arms one last time. My arms squeezed him tight and never wanted to let go. The love in my heart grew when we were together, but it seemed to grow even more when we were apart. “I love you more than anything in this world, Derek.”

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  When I let him go, it hurt. My eyes grew wet because it was so hard to say goodbye, to let my best friend walk away, to lose the one person who was just like me. I’d give up everything I owned to have him here with me, to have the luxury of seeing him every day.

  Derek’s look mirrored mine, his eyes wet like he was about to cry. “I don’t want to go…”

  Fuck, this was going to kill me. “I promise it won’t be so long next time.” I grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them. “Alright?”

  He nodded.

  I wiped his tears away with the pads of my thumbs. “Cleo is going to take good care of you.”

  He nodded again.

  I pressed my lips to his forehead and kissed him. “Alright, little man.” I rose to my feet and turned to Cleo.

  She had his luggage in her grasp, and she looked just as emotionally affected by the exchange. She extended her hand to him.

  Derek took it.

  She gave me one final look, as if she wished she could comfort me instead of taking away my pride and joy. “I’ll keep you posted, Deacon.”

  I stood with my hands on my hips and watched them walk out of my condo.

  When Cleo closed the door behind her, I let the breath out of my lungs, let the two tears streak down my cheeks to my lips.

  Cleo texted me. I just dropped off Derek with Valerie. Headed to the airport.

  I was at the office, throwing myself back into work because I needed to focus on something to numb the pain. I knew I shouldn’t be sad that it was over, but glad that it happened. Thank you. Have a safe flight.

  She sent me a thumbs-up.

  I’d read the book Cleo had given me months ago, the chapter about dealing with difficult people. It was hard to interpret because I took everything literally, but it did seem like a good time to reach out to Valerie, to try to begin a new relationship, maybe as friends as well as cooperative parents.

  But I still dreaded talking to her.

  Why did she get Derek full time just because she was the mother? Why couldn’t I have him? It wasn’t fair.

  I told my assistant not to bother me before I picked up the phone and called her.

  It rang a few times before she answered. “Hey, Deacon.” Her tone wasn’t hostile, but it was guarded, like she had no idea where this phone call might lead.

  I forced myself to be polite, calm, and friendly. “Hey, Valerie. How are you?”

  “Derek just got home, so I’m very happy. He told me he had a good time.”

  We were already off to a better start. “Yeah…we had a blast.”

  “Your assistant seems like she really wants to make you happy.”

  I was quiet for a while, processing every moment I’d had with Cleo, the way she was there for me in a way no one else had ever been—not even my own wife. “Yes…she works really hard.”

  Valerie was quiet.

  I cleared my throat. “The reason why I’m calling is…to say thank you.” I shouldn’t have to thank her for letting me see my son. It was ludicrous. But according to the book, it was better to defuse tensions rather than escalate them, even if the other person was wrong. “Thank you for working with Cleo to make that happen. I was really happy to spend the weekend with our son. He’s…the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  She was quiet for a while, as if she didn’t expect me to say that. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me too.”

  I wanted to ask when I could see him again, but I knew I shouldn’t rush it. Just end the conversation on good terms.

  “So, you guys went fishing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Derek won’t stop talking about it,” she said with a laugh. “Said he can’t wait to do it again.”

  I wanted to do it every day. “Well, I’ll let you go. Just wanted to say thanks…”

  “Alright, Deacon. Goodnight.” She didn’t hang up.

  I listened to the silence, hoping to hear Derek in the background, but it was quiet. So, I ended the call.

  Two

  Cleo

  That weekend had been exhausting.

  Flying back and forth to California had been no picnic—even in first cla
ss.

  I left the office early on Tuesday because I needed a break. I went home to a filthy apartment and crashed on the couch, watching TV while waiting for my pizza to be delivered. I didn’t even change into my sweatpants. I just took off my skirt and lay on the couch in my panties.

  I didn’t give a damn.

  My phone was on silent because I wanted to take some time off from the chaos of my job, even if it was only for a few hours. While I loved my job, got so much satisfaction out of making people happy, I wished I had more time for myself. I wished there were another me running around just to take care of me.

  A knock sounded.

  “Yes!” I got off the couch and pulled on the sweatpants sitting on the floor. I opened my wallet and fished out some cash before I opened the door to the delivery man.

  But it was no delivery man.

  It was Deacon.

  Oh. My. God.

  I was expecting the pizza guy, so I had baggy sweatpants on the bottom, a wrinkled blouse on the top, and my hair was a mess because I plopped down on the couch and didn’t move.

  I wasn’t sexy like him, walking around the house in just sweatpants without a shirt, hot even when his hair was messy.

  When I lay around the house, I looked like shit.

  I stared at him, not knowing what to say, humiliated he was seeing me at my worst.

  And to top it off…he had flowers.

  He stood in jeans and a shirt, his muscled arms stretching the fabric of his sleeves, the cords under his skin. His hair was styled as if he took a shower and got ready before coming by to see me. He stared at me with that intense gaze, focused on my expression without blinking.

  I was so distraught, I didn’t know what to say, how to be confident when I didn’t feel it.

  When the silence stretched long enough, he spoke. “I went by your office, but you weren’t there. Matt told me you went home early.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, discreetly trying to fix it even though I didn’t have a mirror.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  If he asked a question like that, I knew I must be behaving strangely. “No…I just wasn’t expecting company. Sorry.”

  He looked at me like he didn’t notice anything was wrong, like he didn’t care about the sweatpants sagging around my hips, the fact that my blouse was wrinkled, or that my hair was all over the place. “I know this is nothing compared to what you’ve done for me, but…” He looked down at the flowers, an arrangement which had been made by a professional florist, filled with pink roses, thick stems of eucalyptus, white lilies, and other subtle splashes of color.

  I took the vase from his hands and brought the flowers close to my nose, smelling the scent that was present in every residence I stepped into. It was fresh, floral, bringing beauty into a place where the sun didn’t shine. For a second, I forgot about how terrible I looked and just appreciated the gesture. “That was very thoughtful, Deacon. Thank you.” I placed them on the table beside the door so I wouldn’t have to walk away.

  He continued to stand there.

  “I’d invite you inside, but my place is…a bit messy right now.”

  Instead of saying goodbye and leaving, he lingered. “I don’t care what your place looks like.”

  I didn’t want to be rude to him when he’d come all the way over here to bring me flowers, so I stepped back and let him enter my apartment. “Alright.”

  He stepped inside, took a look around, but didn’t say anything.

  “I’m just so busy, I don’t have a lot of time to clean…”

  He faced me, his hands in his pockets. “I came here to see you. Your apartment doesn’t matter to me.”

  I smiled slightly and shut the door. “Well, you didn’t have to come all the way over here…but thank you.” I grabbed the vase of flowers and put it on my coffee table, quickly gathering all the paper plates with old burrito wrappers and shoving them into the garbage can. I came back to him, my arms crossed over my chest.

  “I also wanted to know if I could take you to a nice dinner, even though that still doesn’t come close to what you did for me.”

  “Deacon, you don’t owe me anything. I was happy to do it.”

  He ignored what I said. “Have you eaten?”

  “Oh, you want to go right now?”

  “If you’re hungry.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  His eyes moved to the entryway. “Are you expecting company?”

  “Yes.” I grabbed my wallet, opened the door, and paid the pizza guy for the cardboard box. “Thanks. Keep the change.” To make my humiliation worse, Deacon had now seen me order a whole pizza just for myself. “I already ordered dinner.” I set it on the table.

  He stared at me, the sexiest man to ever be in my apartment. With jeans low on his hips and his shirt tight on his chest and arms, he was strong and slender, his jawline tight and chiseled. His dark hair matched his shirt, which brought out the color of his eyes.

  Since we weren’t in our usual element, I didn’t know how to behave around him. I didn’t know how to read him. I was just so uncomfortable with the way he caught me off guard. I wished he’d texted me first, given me a five-minute head start.

  He didn’t leave. He continued to stare at me.

  “Take a seat. I just need a minute to change.” I headed to my bedroom.

  “You don’t need to change for me.” He lowered himself to the sofa, his back perfectly straight.

  I wasn’t going to sit beside him looking like a troll. “It’ll just be a minute. Help yourself to the pizza if you want some.” I made it to my bedroom and quickly changed, pulling on a purple dress with a jean jacket. When I got to the mirror in my bathroom, I almost screamed in horror.

  I looked like hell.

  My makeup was smeared, my hair was frizzy, and I had a smear of chocolate in the corner of my mouth from when I’d stopped at the bakery on the way home.

  Shoot me.

  I quickly fixed myself up, brushed my hair until it was smooth, redid my makeup entirely, and finally erased the shitshow that was on my face before. After a quick spray of perfume and another application of deodorant, I went back into the living room.

  He was exactly where I left him, sitting straight and unsupported, his knees apart with his hands resting on his lap. He wasn’t on his phone.

  I moved to the couch beside him, crossing my legs and keeping space between us. The pizza was forgotten because I was embarrassed enough already. “The flowers look great there.”

  He stared at them for a while before he shifted his gaze to me.

  I stared back, unsure why he lingered. He’d showed his gratitude so well. He didn’t need to waste any more time in this filthy apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t ask for a tour because I would have denied him. If he saw the pile of old dishes in the sink, he’d probably be disgusted. I mean, I was disgusted by my own apartment. I just had no time to clean it.

  He continued to stare.

  I stared back.

  “Can you not talk?”

  My eyebrow immediately rose at the rude thing he’d just said.

  “I want to say something…”

  My fire died away when I understood.

  “Everybody wants something from me.” He continued to stare at me as if he hadn’t noticed the way I grew offended at the first thing he’d said. “Valerie wanted my money. The world wants my mind. Derek wants a father to take care of him. Never in my life have I had someone who does so much for me…who has my best interests at heart. My parents raised me and they were good to me, but it’s not the same.”

  I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if he was finished.

  He looked at the flowers for a second before he turned back to me. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t know how else to show it. Because my words, flowers, and dinner don’t truly reflect my gratitude.”

  My insides melted like butter, and my heart grew wings. “Sometimes gratit
ude isn’t conveyed with words or gifts. Sometimes it’s conveyed with emotions. And you’ve shown me how much my gesture has meant to you.” I rested my hands on my knee, looking at the clean shave on his face, the little bones in his jaw visible when there was no hair covering them.

  “How did you get Valerie to agree?”

  I shrugged. “I told her she should be grateful that her ex-husband wants a relationship with her son at all. Most men don’t care that much. And if she wants you guys to be on good terms someday, the best way to do that is by giving you what you want.”

  He shook his head. “I still can’t believe you did it.”

  “I know how to handle difficult people.”

  He sighed deeply. “Yeah…like me.”

  I crinkled my eyes. “No, Deacon. You aren’t difficult.”

  He looked at the flowers again. “I called her yesterday.”

  I hoped this story had a happy ending.

  “I thanked her for letting me have Derek for the weekend.”

  I nodded. “That was a good move.”

  “I read that book you gave me…”

  I smiled. “I’m glad it was helpful.”

  He rubbed his large hands together slightly.

  “Did you ask if you could see him again?”

  He shook his head. “I thought it was best to leave it alone.”

  “Yeah…”

  He stared down at his hands. “But saying goodbye was so hard. It’s like having your heart exist outside your body…and he takes it with him.”

  My eyes softened.

  “I don’t want it to be this way. I don’t want to have him for a little bit…and then give him back.”

  “I know…”

  “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be a father who’s not there. I can’t be that kind of father…”

  “Maybe we can convince her to move here.”

  He lifted his gaze and looked at me.

  “It’ll take some time, but we might be able to pull it off.”

  “I’d ordinarily say no, but I don’t underestimate you anymore.”