Chapter 98

"Vincent." He called out as he stepped out from where he had hidden in wait.

The proprietor stopped. He turned slowly, and the moment his eyes settled upon Simon, his lips thinned in displeasure.

He did not look startled so much as resigned, as though he had known this moment would eventually come and had merely hoped to postpone it.

Simon tried to ignore the reaction.

"It has been some time," he said, approaching him. "I had begun to think you were avoiding me."

Caldwell regarded him steadily. "You would not be mistaken."

The bluntness caught Simon off guard.

Still, he swallowed his embarrassment and pushed on.

"I need you."

There it was. The reason he had spent hours waiting.

The reason he had skulked to the rear entrance and stood in the cold rather than accepting defeat.

Caldwell’s gaze remained upon him, and Simon saw no sympathy in it.

"I suspected as much."

Simon took another step toward him. "I know I have not been much of a friend to you these past few years."

"No," Vincent agreed. "You have not."

"I know how I have behaved. My conduct was deplorable. I should be bound and whipped. But I would not have come here if I were not desperate." Simon had to force the next words from himself. "I am in serious trouble."

He explained as much as his pride allowed. There was a man pursuing him for money, a man who had become increasingly relentless and increasingly frightening.

The debt had grown beyond Simon’s control, and the man made it clear that he had no intention of giving Simon time merely because Simon asked for it.

Every attempt to evade him had only made matters worse.

Simon needed money and he needed someone who could help him obtain it before the situation became impossible to escape. More importantly, he needed protection.

His creditor might as well have been Satan himself, and the man would not rest until he had dragged Simon down into hell alongside him.

When the option to work off his debt was offered to him, Simon jumped at the opportunity, believing it to be his only way out of the pit he dug for himself. But the things that man was asking of him now... that was something he simply could not do.

His soul might already be beyond redemption, but somewhere beneath all the ruin, he still had a conscience, twisted and badly warped though it was.

He came to Caldwell because he had exhausted every other option and the man before him was his last hope.

When he finished, Caldwell remained silent for several moments.

Simon searched his face for some indication that he might relent. There was nothing.

At last, Caldwell gave a quiet, humorless laugh.

"So this is what has finally brought you to my door." The cold indifference of the man’s response was almost worse than if he had responded with anger.

Simon felt his stomach tighten. But Caldwell wasn’t done.

"There was a time, Simon, when you could have counted upon my help without having to beg for it. I trusted you. I welcomed you into my home and considered you a friend. But you disappointed me at every turn. You shattered my trust and with it, whatever hope I had of preserving this friendship."

"I know I have treated you badly," Simon said. "But this is not some frivolous matter. I truly need your help."

Caldwell studied him for a long moment, sensing that there was more that the man still wasn’t saying. It just reaffirmed the fact that Simon could not be trusted.

"What kind of trouble have you managed to get yourself into this time?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Simon hesitated.

He had no desire to speak the whole truth, but there was little point in pretending that his circumstances were less serious than they were.

"I am involved with a terrible person. A horrible man and I’m desperate. He... he can destroy me."

Caldwell’s lips quirked up in bitter amusement.

"That describes half the men who sit at my tables."

"This man is different." Simon lowered his voice. "He is deranged. His behavior has become increasingly deplorable, and he will not leave me alone. He has made it clear that he would sooner see me buried than allow me another moment’s peace."

He hated how pitiful he sounded.

"I need enough money to settle him," Simon continued. "Just enough to get him away from me. I would not ask if I had another option."

Caldwell’s gaze remained fixed upon him.

"And what exactly did you expect me to do about it?" He asked and his tone was derisive.

"Help me." Even as the words left his lips, he knew he had already lost his friend.

"You only come to me whenever you want something. It’s the way you have always been and I see that hasn’t changed," he said. "I gave you more than I should have because I considered you a friend. But the same can’t be said about you. You are not a good person, you ruin everything you touch."

"Anything." Simon croaked. "Please, I will do anything for you to forgive me."

He might as well be speaking to the wall. Vincent’s eyes were twin fathomless pools of hatred.

"There is a woman in my life," Vincent began. "The two of us had an arrangement of sorts. It lasted for quite some time, and somewhere along the way, I began to develop feelings for her."

Simon said nothing. He had not even known Vincent was interested in anyone, much less that there was a woman who had managed to become important to him.

"She got with child. None of it was planned," Vincent continued. "And instead of my usual aversion, I was ecstatic. I looked forward to being a father. But when the time came for her to give birth, she nearly died. After all that, my child did not survive. My child was gone before she could even take her first breath."

Simon lowered his gaze, awash with shame and guilt. A stabbing pain began at his sternum and quickly spread through the rest of his body. He could scarcely bring himself to look at Vincent now.

"Where were you when it happened?" Vincent asked quietly and it was a pointed strike. "Where were you when I was enduring the worst time of my life? Where were you when I needed my friend?" He paused, allowing each question to settle heavily between them. "But now that you have a problem of your own, you come running to me. You expect me to be your savior, your ticket to freedom. You expect me to open my arms and welcome you back as though you haven’t spent years destroying every bit of love I had for you."

Vincent shook his head slowly, nose scrunching in disgust. "You have said your piece, and I have made up my mind. I will not help you. After everything you have done, I hope you get exactly what you deserve."