Lucas

“So where are we?” I ask Ben, who takes the seat across from me in Embree’s office.

It’s been a little over a week since we turned over the information Agent Halder gave us to OPR. Since then, he and Nic have been in negotiations with them, attempting to untangle Embree from the mess Creed is involved in.

“Nic was able to work out an agreement. Thanks to what was on that thumb drive, they agreed the surveillance on Emilia was planted illegally. They have no evidence tying her to their investigation, so Nic made it clear it needs to be made right. She also filled them in on the dissolution of the marriage and subsequent termination of his parental rights. It’s enough to affirm Emilia wants nothing to do with Creed, and that she’ll be the first to turn him in should he make contact. In short, they won’t be bothering her anymore.”

“We got that in writing?”

“Damn straight. You know my sister. She’s a goddamned pit bull when it comes to protecting the people she loves.”

“What do we know about the asshole agent who threatened her?” Agent Robert Kessler. The second man on my growing kill list.

“Nothing yet. From what I understand, they’re still investigating. Hunt did say he’s on some kind of administrative leave and was warned not to contact her.”

“We need to figure out who’s behind this. Whoever orchestrated the investigation against Creed and ordered the surveillance on Emilia is more powerful than Kessler. They’re the real threat and as long as they’re out there, there’s no guarantee she’s safe.”

“We’re on it. Mason’s on Creed duty and Owen is working closely with Agents Hunt and Halder. The minute we get an inkling of who it might be, you’ll be the first to know.” His assurance does nothing to ease my concern. Especially as with each passing day, Emilia and the girls grow increasingly tired of being locked away in the house.

“Embree’s had enough,” I confess, as my shoulders slump in defeat. I promised her this would be over soon, but it sounds like it’s going to be a while before her life can return to normal.

“What do you mean?”

“School year ends in three days, and she was hoping everything would be settled by then. Given what’s happened, she’s looking forward to spending time with the girls, possibly taking them on a trip to get them out of Ruby Creek for a week or two. Just the three of them.”

“Look, I get this is hard, but part of your job is managing her expectations. Only time will tell if the threat is truly behind us. You need to help her understand that and make it clear that it’s something we’ll need to re-assess weekly. If having the girls’ home full time gets to be too much, we can look into setting up occasional day trips to places where we can mitigate the risk and ensure their safety.”

He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. Properly chastised, I only nod. For the foreseeable future, this is how it needs to be.

“So, how’s everything else? She had enough of you yet?” Under the desk, he kicks at my feet playfully. It’s his way of trying to lighten my solemn mood.

“All good. And no, I don’t think so. Though I can tell having us around has been a difficult adjustment for her.”

“Sounds about right. It’s to be expected given the circumstances. What about you? How are you adjusting?” Though he gives off an air of nonchalance, his eyes are locked in on me like he’s dying to see if I’ll tell him the truth.

It awakens a prickle of apprehension, especially when I think back to what happened Friday night. When I opened the door, still pissed after our argument, nothing could have prepared me for the way her eyes sparkled with desire. It damn near brought me to my knees, and it took everything I had to stand there waiting for the inevitable moment that look would turn to pity.

It happens every time. The scars that mark me will forever taint the way others see me. I saw it in the faces of the nurses, the doctors, the physical therapists, basically anyone who’s looked upon the evidence of my torture. And it’s especially worse when it’s someone who knows what each of those marks cost me. Where they came from and what I endured in the aftermath cements that pity to the point it’s all they feel when they look at me.

To my horror, it’s exactly what happened when she finally saw what my torturers had done to me. The look of lust fell away, replaced instead by unfathomable sadness and pain.

With adrenaline pumping through my blood, I watched helplessly as she scanned over each mark. Her face twisting in agony like she was experiencing each skin-splitting strike of their whips. The breathtaking force of their fists. The burning and stinging of the heavy chains that cut into my wrists and ankles. Each slice of the knife as they carved me up with glee on their faces. The fire that scorched my skin, burning and eating away at the tender flesh like it was an inanimate object and not me.

I hated that not only could she see what happened, but that she experienced it so completely, it was as though it happened to her. I couldn’t take it, so I ran to the bed, intending to cover up, but the feel of her hands as they stopped mine instantly quieted the need. With each passing second that she took me in, that her hands explored, soothed, and caressed, the pain of my past faded away. The phantom stinging and burning, was replaced by desire until all I could feel was the magnetic attraction that’s as unavoidable as breathing. For the first time since it happened, the scars no longer mattered.

“In some ways, it’s been easier than I thought. In others, I’m still adjusting.” It’s a truth he’ll buy and one I’m comfortable sharing.

“What about her? How’s she doing since that day at the cabin?”

It’s the question of the hour and the reason I’m being so careful. In the three nights since she saw my scars, she’s slept in my bed. Both of us fully clothed, as I’ve fought with all my might to keep us on safer ground. On more than one occasion, we’ve made out like teenagers. Touching and exploring until my control starts to slip, and I immediately pump the brakes. Each time I do, the look of disappointment on her face chisels away a bit more of my restraint, but still, I hold. After everything, I’m more sure than ever that I can’t allow things between us to progress too quickly.

“Hard to say.” I shrug my shoulders before closing the file Ben brought for our discussion. Handing it back to him I add, “She’s been through a lot. I suspect she’s still processing.”

“The Luc I knew would’ve marched right up to her and demanded she spill her feelings. What’s with all the tip-toeing?”

Good question. Not one for subtleties, I like to nip confusion in the bud. My mind demands complete clarity, but with her, there’s just too much at stake. Too much I want, far too many things we both could lose. It’s got me stuck. Afraid to push in case her feelings for me are enough to propel us over the line. And that’s the part that terrifies me the most. What if we indulge in what we feel, only for her to wake up one morning regretting us? I’ve survived a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but that. I don’t know how I’d survive that.

“It’s complicated. Things between us ended on a shitty note and now that I’m back…” I let the thought hang, unsure of where to even begin.

“Well? Now that you’re back, what? Spit it out, man. I got shit to do and now I can’t leave until I sort out whatever mess is in your head.”

“There’s nothing to sort,” I tell him, annoyed. The last thing I need is him poking around, stirring up more of my shit.

“The fuck there isn’t. What is it, Luc? What’s got you so twisted up you can’t talk to her?”

Needing to move, I stand and walk to the window overlooking the front yard. The beautiful landscape, with summer flowers in full bloom, is in stark contrast to the sadness hidden behind these walls. Or maybe it’s not the house. Maybe it’s me.

“Well?”

Moving past the flower beds, my gaze lands on the metallic gray BMW i8 parked next to Embree’s CRV. It’s such a pretentious car for a supposed family man. After seeing the size of the girl’s booster seats, there’s no way in hell he bought that car with those two little girls in mind.

It pisses me off.

He’s been gone for years and yet, he’s everywhere you look. Especially in the family photos she’s got hung on every surface of this damn house. Each time I walk by, I find myself examining their faces.

Hers.

His.

Looking for… who knows what.

Just something to tell me how much love and devotion they have for one another. It’s like I’m hoping those pictures will reveal how much of that love is still alive and existing in her heart.

“I slept with her.” I blurt, shaking my head in anger at myself. At Creed. At the universe for being so incredibly cruel.

“What?” Though my back is turned to him, there is no misinterpreting the growl in his voice.

“It was before. The night I left. The same night we buried my parents. I was heartbroken and drowning in grief when she found me sitting alone in the dark. She offered me comfort. An escape. And I was so desperate for relief from the weight of my guilt that I didn’t say no. I was so in love with her. You would think knowing I was leaving, I’d have the decency to protect her, but I didn’t.”

Pissed off, I turn to face him, willing to accept whatever punishment he deems fit. “I took her virginity that night, then walked away without so much as a thank you, never mind a goodbye.”

With mouth agape, he stares at me. His brow grows more furrowed with each passing second, but when he finally speaks, I’m shocked by what I hear.

“She loved you just as deeply as you loved her. If she offered you comfort. Love. In whatever form it came, it meant just as much to her that you accepted it. Of that I’m sure. I’ve known that girl almost as long as you have and whatever she offered you that night was less important to her than you allowing her to take care of you.”

That makes it so much worse. Dropping back into my seat, I slump forward. Rubbing my hands over my eyes, I struggle to keep my emotions in check.

“I’m in love with her.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I thought we’d already worked through this that morning I kicked your ass.”

I chuckle at that. “I must have landed a good one if that’s how you remember it.”

“What I remember was asking what your plans were. Does this mean you’ve decided? Is your plan to get the girl?”

Suddenly exhausted, I slump back against my seat. I’m so fucking tired of feeling like this. Confused, sad, angry. Afraid. Nothing I’ve done so far has offered any kind of relief, so maybe spilling my guts to him is the answer.

“She asked me to kiss her. It was the night that asshole took advantage of her and God, did I want to. Knowing what she’d just been through, I couldn’t do it. Not then. But then a few nights ago, we had another moment. We’d had a misunderstanding, and she came in and saw…”

FUCK! Every time I think about it is like a knife through the gut.

I’m starting to think it’s not just because of what she saw, but because those scars represent the painful proof that I survived while I let the others die. Those marks are evidence of my biggest failure and to have them seen by the eyes of my greatest regret was, and still is, excruciating.

But then when she thanked me for keeping my promise to survive so I could return home to her and our family... For the first time, those scars meant something more. The reverence in her voice flooded my system with something akin to gratitude, which is so outside the scope of what I’ve felt all these months, that I’m still struggling to process it.

“Because I’m in love with her those moments between us are getting harder to ignore.”

“So, it’s not one-sided, I take it. She feels it too?”

“Yes.” I nod, staring off at yet another picture of her and the girls. “She says she feels the same, but how could she know? Look at what he did to her. What if she’s just lost, not realizing I’m not the answer?”

“Have you asked her?” I look at him, confounded. “Come on Lucas! Have you asked her what she wants?”

“Of course I have! And I’ve heard her answer. But I can’t forget the look on her face when she told me what happened between them in that cabin. She wanted to feel loved and wanted by him. What if in his absence she’s settling for me? I can’t be the fill-in, Ben. I fucking love her, but I can’t go into this wondering if while she’s with me, she’s wishing I were him.”

“Dude, you need to talk to her. Get all that out in the open. She’s still that same girl. She’ll hear you out and do her best to protect your heart until she’s sure. It’s who she is.”

“I have. But even as I hear her words, as she looks me in the eye with so much certainty, I can’t help but wonder if her answers are a symptom of the betrayal she feels. It may feel real to her, until she processes everything, and then realizes it isn’t.”

“Look, I won’t sugarcoat it. The situation is fucked, and you’re right, I’d be cautious, too. But at some point, you have to trust her. It’s the only chance the two of you have to make it work.”

“I don’t know. I feel like any way this goes, it’ll be me on the losing end. It took me years to feel okay. It’s only been what, 5-weeks? And I’m back to feeling like that same love-sick kid. The only difference is it’s not distance keeping me from her. It’s fear.”

“Sounds to me like the very same thing. I mean, you didn’t come back Luc. One can only assume it is fear that kept you away all these years.”

He’s not wrong. When I don’t respond, he stands.

“Take my advice. Stop with the excuses. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, life happens on its own time. You have an opportunity here. One that may never come around again.”

I watch as he walks away, only turning to face me when he gets to the door of the office.

“And for the record, I don’t think there was much left of their marriage. Of the three years before he left, he was gone more than he was around. He missed Mallory’s birth by almost a week. Only made it to one of Alyssa’s three birthday parties. He wasn’t around long enough to be missed.”

“Tell that to all the pictures she has hanging around this place.”

He shakes his head and smiles.

“Maybe it’s time you looked closer, my friend. Those pictures confirm exactly what I just told you.”

Want to read ahead? The next 2 Chapters are available FREE if you FOLLOW ME on REAM!!! (https://reamstories.com/arianaclarkauthor)

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Author’s Note: 

I'm truly amazed by how far Lucas has come. The way he opens up to Ben in this scene shows how much trust he has in his friend. Aside from the conversation he had with Emilia when he returned to town, this is the first time he openly shares what happened on the night he left. It shows growth. A willingness to connect that didn't exist when he first returned to Ruby Creek. 

What do you think of Ben's reaction when Lucas told him he slept with Embree on the night of his parent's funeral? Are you surprised?  Also, did you notice the slight shift in Lucas' perception of his scars? 

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