Chapter 150: One Call

Andrew had already called a lawyer.

Technically, that should’ve been the most important call he’d made.

Unfortunately, his lawyer proved considerably less useful once presented with several recordings of his client doing exactly what his client had insisted he hadn’t done.

Andrew needed someone else.

Someone with money.

Connections.

Someone who could make one phone call and turn an impossible situation into something considerably less impossible.

Andrew could think of only one person.

The problem was getting Dominic Sebastian to stay on the line long enough to hear him.

Dominic was asleep when his phone rang.

Or trying to sleep, anyway.

There was apparently a considerable difference between sleeping because you were tired and sleeping. After all, your body had recently been opened up so someone could remove one of your kidneys.

He’d discovered several such differences over the past few days.

Like how coughing was suddenly an activity requiring preparation.

Laughing wasn’t much better.

Getting out of bed had become a carefully negotiated agreement between Dominic, gravity, and several abdominal muscles that had apparently decided they hated him.

His phone rang again.

Dominic opened his eyes.

He stared at the ceiling for several seconds before reaching toward the bedside table.

The number wasn’t familiar.

He almost ignored it.

Almost.

"Hello?"

There was a brief silence.

Then a voice he hadn’t wanted to hear again said quickly, "Dominic, don’t hang up. I’m in jail."

Dominic’s thumb stopped over the screen.

Of all the things Andrew could’ve said to keep him from disconnecting immediately, that admittedly wasn’t on the list.

"What?"

"I’m in jail."

Dominic slowly pushed himself a little higher against the pillows and immediately regretted it when his abdomen protested.

He stopped moving.

"How are you calling me?"

"They let me make a call."

"Then call your lawyer."

"I already did."

"Good."

Dominic moved the phone away from his ear.

"Wait!"

He stopped.

"Dominic, please."

That word probably would’ve meant more once.

Now it mostly made Dominic tired.

"You’re not supposed to contact me."

"I know."

"I have a restraining order against you."

"I know, but I didn’t have anyone else to call."

Dominic closed his eyes.

That wasn’t his problem.

For once, he was perfectly comfortable allowing something involving Andrew Callahan to remain someone else’s problem.

"What happened?"

"I’ve been arrested."

"I gathered that."

"They’re saying I broke into a building."

Dominic frowned.

"And?"

"And there was a fire."

His eyes opened.

Something about the way Andrew said it immediately made Dominic suspicious.

Not I didn’t do it.

Not, they’re accusing me of starting a fire.

Just that there had been one.

"Whose building?"

Another silence.

Dominic’s grip tightened around the phone.

"Andrew."

"It was Vance’s workshop."

Whatever lingering fog Dominic had been experiencing disappeared.

"Alexander?"

"It wasn’t supposed to be like this."

Dominic stared straight ahead.

Some sentences could make everything before them considerably worse.

That was one of them.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"You just told me you’re in jail because someone broke into Alexander’s workshop and there was a fire."

"They’re blaming me."

"Did you do it?"

"They have recordings."

Dominic went very still.

Andrew apparently realized his mistake.

"I mean, they’re claiming they have recordings."

"Andrew."

"They didn’t have cameras before!"

Silence.

This time, it was absolute.

Dominic couldn’t even decide which part of that statement was the most damning.

"Before?"

Andrew said nothing.

Dominic rubbed his forehead.

He was suddenly exhausted again, and this time it had very little to do with surgery.

"What do you want from me?"

"I need help."

"No."

"Dominic, please. They won’t let me out. My lawyer keeps talking about evidence and hearings and charges. You know people. Your family knows people. You can get me out of here."

"No."

"I don’t have anyone else!"

"You have a lawyer."

"I need someone who can actually help me!"

Dominic looked toward the window.

For years, Andrew had occupied a part of his life that Dominic had defended even when defending it cost him nearly everything else.

His position.

His reputation.

His relationship with his family.

Alexander.

And even after all of that, Andrew had attacked him in an art gallery badly enough that Dominic had finally obtained a restraining order.

Yet somehow, sitting in jail after apparently breaking into Alexander’s business, Andrew still believed Dominic should come running.

"Why Alexander?"

"What?"

"Why did you go after his workshop?"

Andrew’s voice hardened slightly. "You really want to defend him after everything?"

Dominic almost laughed.

Unfortunately, laughing still hurt, so Andrew was spared that particular response.

"This has nothing to do with defending Alexander. I’m asking why you broke into his property."

"I told you, they’re accusing me."

"You also told me the cameras weren’t there before."

Andrew went quiet again.

Dominic had his answer.

"Did you know I was in the hospital?"

"What?"

"I had surgery."

Another pause.

"I heard something about that."

Of course he had.

"And you still called me."

"I didn’t know who else to call!"

There it was again.

Not Are you all right?

Not even What surgery?

Just Andrew’s problem.

Dominic found that strangely helpful.

Maybe there had been a time when hearing Andrew beg would’ve made him feel responsible. Maybe once, he would’ve started thinking about lawyers, favors, money, or whatever else he could throw at the problem.

That version of Dominic had already paid enough.

"You need to listen to your lawyer."

"Dominic."

"And don’t contact me again."

"Wait. Please. I’ll do anything. I swear. Just help me get out of here."

"No."

"After everything we’ve been through?"

Dominic looked down at the blanket covering him.

That argument might’ve worked once too.

Not anymore.

"Exactly," he said quietly. "After everything we’ve been through."

Andrew went silent.

Dominic didn’t feel triumphant.

He didn’t feel particularly vindicated either.

Mostly, he felt tired.

But relief lived somewhere underneath it.

The kind that came when something that had taken far too long to end finally stayed ended.

"Goodbye, Andrew."

"Dominic, wait!"

Dominic disconnected.

Then he blocked the number.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the phone.

Alexander’s workshop had been attacked.

That part bothered him.

Enough that Dominic briefly considered calling Alexander before remembering there was absolutely no reason Alexander needed a phone call from his ex-fiancé while dealing with the aftermath of an attack carried out by his ex-fiancé’s former lover.

No.

Dominic had caused enough complications in that man’s life.

If Alexander needed anything from him, he knew how to reach him.

Dominic placed the phone back on the bedside table and carefully lowered himself against the pillows.

His abdomen still hurt.

He was still missing a kidney.

And somewhere across the city, Andrew Callahan was sitting in jail after apparently discovering that security cameras could be installed between visits.

Dominic closed his eyes.

Good riddance was probably unkind.

He thought it anyway.