Hayley returned her smile, sticking a hand out to hold the elevator. “I’m Hayley. I live on the top floor.”
The woman’s eyes rounded with surprise. “You must live next tothe owner, then. Wow. To my knowledge the top-floor units have never been rented out before. It’s rumored the owner values his privacy very much.”
Hayley was equally shocked. She’d never seen her neighbors, but then she kept such odd hours she wouldn’t have had the opportunity. But the owner lived in the complex? That she hadn’t known.
“Well, I was told a top-floor unit was undergoing renovation,” Hayley explained. “When I first came in to inquire as to vacancies, only a basement unit was available. The manager called me shortly after and said the owner had just called to let him know that the top-floor unit was finished and to rent it out.” She shrugged. “I guess I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
The woman’s expression was skeptical, but she didn’t argue the point.
“Do you know which unit he lives in?” Hayley mused. “I live on the end and I’ve never seen anyone else on the top floor, but I’m not often at home.”
“I believe he takes the middle unit, but I’m not certain. Like I said, the owner is very private. I don’t recall actually ever seeing him.” She frowned. “For that matter, I don’t think anyone in the building has ever laid eyes on him.”
Pondering that oddity, Hayley gave the woman a friendly wave and then pressed the number of her floor as the doors slid closed. She frowned as the elevator quickly soared to the top floor and she stepped off, eyeing the door to the middle unit, even pausing outside it, straining to hear if any sound came from within. But there was only silence. No sound of a television or movement. With a shake of her head she continued on to her apartment only wanting a nap and to snuggle into the luxurious bed that she’d barely spent any time in since she’d moved here.
Guilt nagged at her, though, twenty minutes later when fresh from a shower she’d curled up beneath the covers. She tossed and turned,mentally cursing the fact that she couldn’t simply relax and sleep. Usually if she had difficulty resting, she’d simply play a few selections on her violin to settle her, and then she found she could sleep much better. But the violin wasn’t what occupied her thoughts. Thoughts of her neighbor, the owner who’d been so kind to her, were what kept her from rest.
She owed him a great deal of gratitude. Had he gotten the brownies she’d baked for him? When she’d made them for the manager and he’d nervously informed her that it was the owner who deserved her thanks, she hadn’t had time to compose a more heartfelt thank-you. Perhaps she could make him something else and this time write a more personalized note to him. She could even bring it over and knock on his door; after all, it was better to thank him personally.
Patricia’s warning came to mind. The owner valued his privacy and none of the tenants had even seen him before? That seemed highly unlikely. But then Patricia had also seemed shocked that he had agreed to rent the top-floor apartments that flanked his. With the low amount he was charging for rent, maybe he needed the additional income.
Now that the idea had taken root, she knew it would be impossible to sleep. With a disgruntled sigh she scrambled out of bed, casting one last longing glance at the comfortable mattress. So much for a nice relaxing afternoon.
She took inventory of the groceries she’d stocked, mentally going over her repertoire of recipes and comparing them to the supplies she had on hand. The last thing she wanted was to make a trip to the market a few blocks away. It would take too much time.
Her eyes lighted on a can of condensed milk and a bag of toffee bits, remembering she’d bought the stuff to make her caramel pie on a whim. There was only one graham cracker pie crust and only enough whipped cream to make one pie, so she couldn’t afford to screw it up.
It would take a few hours for the condensed milk to boil and become the thick caramel filling she used in the pie, so she started that first,filling a large pot with water and setting it to a low boil. After placing the can in the water, she pulled the rest of the ingredients from her small pantry and the fridge and laid out the cream cheese, heavy whipping cream, vanilla, pie crust and toffee bits on the counter. Realizing there was little she could do until the caramel was done and had cooled enough not to melt the chocolate-covered toffee bits, she decided to use the time to practice her violin. Perhaps instead of practicing late this night, she’d get in her practice now, finish the pie and take it to her neighbor, and then she’d have a simple dinner and go to bed early. The idea of an actual whole night’s sleep was extremely enticing.
After putting the whipping cream back in the fridge, she left the cream cheese out to soften to room temperature, and then she went to open the window closest to the chair she sat in to play. She pulled the violin from the case and lovingly ran her fingers over the worn and faded wood, tears suddenly burning like acid in her eyes.
“Oh, Daddy, I miss you so much,” she choked out.
For a moment she simply hugged the aged violin to her chest and bowed her head, allowing herself, for the first time in a very long time, to weep for her loss.
***
Silas let himself into his apartment on silent feet and then turned and began the comforting, necessary ritual of locking and unlocking the many deadbolts that guarded the entrance to his apartment. Satisfied they were secure, he then set about ensuring that his space—and the complex—was secure from threat. It was a habit ingrained in him, as necessary as breathing.
As he sat in his chair where security monitors surrounded him, a distant echo caught his attention. He became still, senses alert as he strained to discern the source. Then the muffled strains of the same haunting melody she’d played for the first time several nights agobarely reached his ears, but he knew instantly that she was home and playing.
He uncharacteristically shoved away from the monitors, not having completed his sweep of the premises, something heneverdid, and hurried into his bedroom, to his window, pushing it open to allow the beautiful music inside.
Before Hayley moved in, opening a window in his apartment was something he would have never even contemplated. It was a security risk. Someone could access his private domain, and he held his privacy and his space sacred. No one dared encroach on it. There were a hundred other risks he took by opening his window and making himself vulnerable, but he was simply unable to resist the call of her violin.
With his windows closed, they were nearly impenetrable. All were top of the line, bulletproof and shatterproof. It would take a high-powered bomb to penetrate the glass and provide someone access to his apartment. And yet now, he found himself easing onto the edge of his bed, the soft breeze blowing inside, concentrating on each note, the raucous noise of the city falling away as he narrowed his concentration only on the heavenly sound seemingly carried on the wind by angels’ wings.
He shook his head, wondering if he was finally losing what was left of his mind. He wasn’t a poetic man at all, even if he did have a preference for fine music, food and wine. He had promised himself many years ago, when he’d given up all dreams of being a normal child and living a normal life, that he would leave dirt and poverty behind. Never again would he go days without eating only to then rummage through garbage bins, so hungry it mattered little what he stuffed in his mouth, and then be chased away like vermin by angry store owners who thought he was there to cause trouble.
His self-worth had been stripped away long before he even knew what self-worth was or what it meant. He’d never been given theopportunity to be a human being, instead regarded as little more than an animal since his unfortunate birth. Hell, even animals were treated more humanely than he had been.
But he’d made a solemn vow to never again be moneyless or powerless, and by God, he’d followed through on that vow. He had more money than he would ever spend in a lifetime, and yet he had no one to leave his vast wealth to. He’d set his course, choosing a solitary existence, only embracing the men he called brothers, men like him who’d seen the darker side of humanity, men who’d been shaped and scarred from the travesty of growing up in appalling conditions, never knowing what it was like to have someone love or care about them. Drake was the exception. He was a fortunate man to have found a woman—Evangeline—who accepted the darkness that lived inside him, in them all. It hadn’t been easy. Drake had very nearly destroyed—twice—the very woman who ended up saving him from the barren existence Silas and the rest of his brothers lived.
Such would never be for Silas. He carried too much darkness with him. Far more than Drake or any of his brothers. His demons were strong, alive and growing stronger all the time. His life was too dangerous to ever consider allowing anyone too close. They would only suffer because of him and the choices he’d made. He didn’t regret those choices or choosing a life that was solely devoted to the protection of Drake and the others. He’d given his allegiance and loyalty freely to Drake, knowing that Drake would never betray him. But that was all Silas had room for, and it occupied his entire life. Every minute of his days—and nights—was filled with one aim. He’d give his life for any of his brothers, and now Evangeline, or Angel as Drake had so appropriately deemed her.
It was likely that one day he would indeed die for one or more of those he’d sworn his loyalty to, but he embraced this duty as he did everything else in his life. With calm acceptance and no regret. Drake had much reason to live now. He had a wife he loved beyond measure, and a child whowould arrive in less than two months. For the first time, Drake’s life had purpose and meaning beyond their group of brethren and the business of amassing wealth and power. And Silas would absolutely sacrifice himself to ensure that Drake never lost what he’d claimed as his, because without Evangeline and their child, Drake would no longer have any reason to live and their empire would crumble to dust. Silas would never allow that to happen while he had breath in his body. Drake needed him. Their brothers needed him. Evangeline and her unborn child needed his protection. And Evangeline was one of very few people in this world to whom Silas readily gave his regard, affection and unwavering support. She was the only person who could make him truly smile, and before her, he could not remember when he’d smiled at anyone, even himself.
A sudden and unwanted thought intruded upon his introspection. Would Hayley manage to give him a reason to smile? Could he ever be in her presence andnotsmile? He shook off the ridiculous notion, pissed beyond measure that he was fuckingobsessedwith a woman he’d never even met and her nightly gift of music. He had to break her hold on him. Had to get away during the times she practiced, or he feared losing his focus at a moment when he could not afford to have his concentration anything but absolute.
