"Lu?"

"Yeah..."

"Why won't you look at me?" I asked, eyeing him pointedly for a beat as we hit a stop sign.

Lucas shifts uncomfortably under my gaze and breathes out a shaky exhale.

"I'm just cold."

I furrowed my brow and huffed with some frustration. Who does Lucas think he's fooling? I know more about Lucas's sexual interests I suspect at this point than him personally, that much is true, but I wasn't born yesterday. Maybe it's because I'm a cop, maybe it's because I'm used to picking up on shit that just doesn't look right, but my gut tells me something is very wrong with my passenger right now, and that he's hiding it from me for a reason.

"Take your hood off, Lucas." I said firmly, before downing the last of my coffee.

He doesn't move, and says nothing, but I can hear him sniffle on and off, and before long he uses his forearm to wipe what I'm assuming are tears from his face.

"Lucas..."

"Please just drop it about the hood, okay?" He pleads, finally turning his face to look at me. I eyed him for a split second, trying to gauge his response, and it was then I decided that whatever was going on with Lu needed my full attention, so, I pulled off onto the shoulder of the road in silence, and put the car in park.

"W-what are you doing?" He stutters, sinking down into the passenger seat completely. "We're gonna be late!"

"We were already going to be late, Lu." I sighed, making a point of angling my body towards him. "Now please take your hood off and stop hiding from me."

He waivers there, chest rising and falling heavily as he processes my request, and all I can see of his profile is some of his nose, mouth, and some mussy dark waves sticking out from underneath his hoodie.

"Lu..."

He curses under his breath and pulls his hood off abruptly, but not before shooting me a reluctant, yet dirty glare. "Happy?" He snaps, wiping what I can now see are a pair of very pink, swollen eyes with his sleeve. It was then I noticed the developing bruise on his left cheek.

"You're going to tell me how that happened, Lucas." I ordered calmly, reaching over to examine his face. He said nothing as I angled his face towards me, averting his eyes from mine as I looked over him.

"I fell." He mutters under his breath, sniffling on and off as I run my fingertips over the bruise. It looks like someone smacked him... hard. Probably a man.

"So you fell this morning and slammed your hand in the car door?" I questioned dryly.
"Yep..." he sniffles, reaching up to brush my hand away.

His fingertips are cold, and his hand is shaking as it settles on mine, but he doesn't pull my hand away. I exhaled heavily, trying to figure out what to say.

"Lucas..." I said, gently taking his left hand into my own. He grips my hand back, eyes watering in the heavy silence that follows between us. "... let me see your other hand."

"Mm-mm." He protests, shaking his head, stray tears running from his eyes.

"I'm going to take a look at it, okay?" I said, because I was done asking. Lu pulled his right arm away at first, but I held his other hand tight, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just a look, okay?"

He sniffles and after a strained moment relents, soft sobs leaving him as I reached over to pull his sweatshirt sleeve back. A wince leaves him as I get the fabric over his wrist, and I caught my breath, mouth forming a tight line at the damage.

His hand is a fucking mess. Black and blue bruises covering the entirety, his wrist so swollen it blends into the rest of his hand, and even his nail beds are bruised. It looks like somebody beat the shit out of it with something blunt, and heavy. He can't do anything with this hand, let alone drive safely, shift, or write. Kid can't even grip a cup. Something has to be broken, and he's gonna need a cast at the very least.

"I just forgot to wrap it, that's all..." he mumbled, wiping more tears away. I ran my eyes over him and sighed.

"Lu... it needs more than an Ace bandage, and you know it. You expect me to believe that VW Golf of yours did this?" I knew well that it was the cruel work of another human being, not that of an inanimate object. Lu nods, wiping his eyes quietly, the ugly truth now hanging openly in the air between us, despite what he's withholding. I know abuse, I know it all too well. I lived it growing up, I see it all the time in my work, and I have heard pretty much every bullshit excuse in the books used to explain away a victim's injuries.

The part that tears me up most is knowing that unless Lucas fesses up, I can't help him, at least not in the way he needs most.

"Look Lucas, I know we're strangers...but, please let me help you." I started slowly, trying to figure out what to do with his poor hand without spooking him. "This, this needs medical attention."

He sniffles and looks away, all the while still gripping my hand with his good one in silence. "I can't go to a doctor, Jae..."

I felt anger, I felt true anger. Lucas reminded me of a sweet cinnamon roll last night—a cinnamon roll with a naughty little side, but a sweet cinnamon roll at its core, nonetheless.

It had quickly become impossible for me to not feel protective of Lucas, how could I not?

Maybe we were strangers, maybe we had some kinky phone sex last night, and maybe that's all we'll ever share at this point, but I know I can't leave Lucas like this... it would go against everything in my nature.

"I can't drop this, Lucas... I just can't." I said with a sigh, searching his greyish blue eyes for understanding.

He swallowed hard and bit his lip, responding softly. "...I know. That's what I was afraid of."