“How many other auctions did he attend?” Sterling asked.
“Right,” Patrick concurred. “It’s hard to imagine his first was over ten years later.”
“I didn’t think of that,” I said. “I remember…” I let out a long sigh. “…it was so long ago.”
“What?” Reid asked. “If you don’t mind sharing.”
My lips pursed in contemplation. “It’s not that. I just sometimes wonder what are real memories and what are ones I conjured in my mind.”
“What do you think you remember?” Patrick asked.
“That I thought it was weird to be on display in front of nearly thirty men with servers entering and exiting the room. There was a woman, like a housekeeper, who delivered me to the library. I was blindfolded and practically nude then. It was unreal and unnerving, and yet to everyone around me, it seemed like a normal evening’s festivities.”
Though his eyes darkened, Sterling nodded. “I would assume you weren’t the first or the last.”
“So who thinks that evening was Elliott’s first time in attendance?” Patrick asked.
“You said earlier that his connection was Wendell Hillman,” Mason said. “I think his mourning time is over. We need someone on the inside of the prison to pay him a visit and provide us with information.”
“Ten dollars says the senior Hillman was also present,” Sterling said.
My circulation slowed, pooling to my feet. “Marion confirmed that Antonio had been. You’re saying maybe his father too?”
The men shrugged.
“Nothing like a father-son outing to an auction of a naked, pregnant woman to ensure bonding.” My sarcasm was evident.
“I wouldn’t have put it past my father.”
Pulling my hand away from Patrick’s, I ran my palms over the coarse material of my blue jeans, bringing warmth to my suddenly cooled skin.
“Hillman is gone,” Patrick reassured.
“And so is our father,” Sterling added.
Inhaling, I nodded.
Reid stood. “Now that I know I missed something that significant about Elliott, I need to search more thoroughly. I’ll be downstairs.”
Everyone else nodded.
“The tournament starts Thursday night,” Mason said. He looked at Patrick. “She would be a good distraction. I doubt Elliott expects her to show.”
Look at me.
Without turning to Patrick, I announced, “I’ll do it.”
“Madeline—”
“Let me make my own decision for once in my life,” I said, interrupting Patrick. “I have all of you. Do I need to be afraid that Marion or Andros will try to kidnap me?” It was an odd question, but these were odd circumstances.
“No, you’ll be safe. We’ll ensure that,” Sterling said.
“And Ruby?” I asked.
“She isn’t leaving here,” Patrick said.
“She will be safe,” Sterling reassured.
“Then it’s set. I can’t let the four of you and your men fight my battles without something from me.”
I turned, seeing the small lines of worry around Patrick’s eyes. Reaching out, I laid my hand on his arm. “I love that you want to protect me. I do. But I let Andros and men like Marion dictate my life for too long. It’s time I stand up for myself.” I looked at Sterling, Mason, and back to Patrick and forced a smile. “It’s reassuring to have people believe in me, people who genuinely want to help instead of control me. Thank you.”
Mason’s green stare went to Patrick across the table. “I think this will work.” When Patrick didn’t answer, Mason turned to me. “I’ll confirm your attendance.”
“Thank you, and just so you know, I’ll win.”
“Do your best,” Patrick said with a sigh. “This is about distraction. Winning isn’t paramount.”
“No. First, winning will keep me in the tournament until the final day. Second, I will win and when I do, I plan to shove the winnings in Marion’s face. A million-dollar buy-in will have a jackpot over ten million. I’m refunding his purchase. And then I will finally own myself.”
Patrick’s lips curled. “You don’t need to give him the money for that. He’s never getting near you. Mrs. Kelly, you are mine and mine alone. Our transaction wasn’t based on money. I love you.”
My cheeks warmed as his words flowed effortlessly even in front of his friends.
“You’re right, Patrick. I love you too, and that means more than money. Yet for me, I want to forfeit Marion’s transaction with Andros.”
He sighed. “Then it’s settled.”
Madeline
The poker tournament was now a day away, and while it was set that we’d be leaving for New Orleans on Thursday morning before the first round scheduled for Thursday night, Patrick’s recent invitation had my current attention. It was probably a good decision on his part that he didn’t give me more advance notice. Had he, I’d no doubt have overthought what I would say or do.
With Garrett as our driver, multiple Sparrow men about, and my hand in Patrick’s, the two of us approached a long-term care facility in Downers Grove, west of the city of Chicago. I inhaled the fresh air as we stepped away from the car. Despite the time of year—late January—sunshine streamed down, providing an unusually warm day. Snowmelt and dripping icicles left the sidewalk wet, dampening the leather of my boots as we walked closer.
We were a handsome couple: Patrick in his suit, Italian loafers, and wool topcoat. Beneath my coat, I wore black slacks and a silk blouse. My hair was pulled back and styled in a low twist. Upon my ears were earrings that appeared in our bedroom during my fog. With my husband beside me, there was nothing I lacked.
“May I help you?” the woman at the front desk asked after we entered.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kelly,” Patrick said. “We’re here to see Wilma Adkins. I called a few days ago.”
A few days ago?
I turned to Patrick, yet the woman was speaking.
“Yes, Mr. Kelly,” she said with a smile. “I’m Becky. I’m the one you spoke with. Unfortunately, Ms. Adkins wasn’t up for visitors until today.” She smiled. “Today she is a bit more lucid.” Becky’s gaze met mine. “Your husband told me that you two were old acquaintances. That’s why her medical team agreed to your visit. Sometimes people from the past can trigger memories.”
“Thank you,” I said as my hand trembled in Patrick’s grasp.
“Let me show you to her room.”
Taking off my wool coat, I folded it over my arm as Patrick and I followed Becky.
The scent of disinfecting cleansers filled my senses as well as the offending odors the cleaners were hoping to disguise. My boots tapped along the tile floor. The hallways were clean, and the flooring gleamed with coats of wax. On the walls were pictures of flowers and wildlife. With the passing of each door, I peered inside, seeing some rooms with male patients and others with females. It appeared all the rooms were private. Most of the patients were either sitting near the window in a chair or lying upon their bed. Orderlies and aides hurried about.