Chapter 24 - Lucy
LUCY
My face itched as tears continued to leak from my eyes. It felt like I’d been crying since last night, but I still had more tears each time I felt the telltale signs of a trembling lip and my throat trying to close.
I was surrounded by splinters. Dad had destroyed every paintbrush, every canvas, every crate and paint palette I owned. My easel was torn apart at every joint, and the boxes of paints were shattered, having been thrown against the furniture, which also bore the damage of my father’s anger.
He hadn’t hurt me—he would never—but with every tube of paint that had been squeezed dry, every paintbrush with bristles torn out of the end, my favorite paint cup shattered against the lamp whose glass now littered the floor around me and pierced my thighs where I sat, it was like my soul had been torn from my body.
Losing Knox last night had been hard enough. In dramatic artist fashion, it felt like I’d torn my heart from my own chest and squeezed it until it stopped beating. I’d sent him away, hurt his feelings, hit him with words I knew would drive him away.
I couldn’t regret it, because he was better off without my mess. He would find a job that he loved, find someone who could support his dreams and give him a family he doesn’t hate, and he would forget about me.
He would find happiness and success, and where would I be?
I would be right here, in the midst of the shards of what was left of me, and I would just continue to mechanically do what my family expected of me.
I would learn Dad’s trade, no matter how much I hated it, and maybe someday he would look at me with pride.
Like I was a good son. Like he didn’t regret having me in the first place.
I released another sob, and felt more tears overflow over my cheeks.
“I can’t.”
My voice was broken and almost unrecognizable, even for me.
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the good son. I couldn’t stay away from paint forever, from even a pencil to sketch the shapes that I saw in my mind’s eye. I could never match what Cordelia was to Dad.
So why bother?
I didn’t know if I could survive outside of our family, away from the money that had always flowed, no matter what, but I couldn’t stay here either.
I had money in my savings from working here and there throughout the years, even getting paid for some of my old art, so I had something to work with if I had to start on my own.
But it wasn’t enough for even six months of paying rent, food, and any other bills my dad cut me off from when I came up missing.
He’d be so angry with me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw my own disownment in the newspaper.
I didn’t have the money to replace my art supplies, either. I’d have to find a job somewhere to get by longer.
It would be turning my entire life upside down.
But, as I realized my tears had stopped flowing and my stomach had eased up just a bit on the tightness and nausea that had been building all morning, I wondered if it would be worth it anyway. Is this what I wanted?
Keys jingled in the lock, and I tensed right back up, feeling like a statue as I froze.
Jackson’s little face peeked out from behind the kitchen island, where I knew his food bowl was tucked into the little cat corner by the pantry—Knox had hated it because he hit Jackson’s tower every time he opened the last pantry door to get to my flour and baking ingredients that I’d used twice last year.
The door swung open, and I waited for my Dad’s booming voice. I twisted my hands in my lap, even as I tried to pretend not to exist.
“Lucy?”
I spun around, too shocked to care that I looked like a mess, sat on the floor amidst a pile of paint and splinters, with tear tracks down my face and my hair askew.
Knox was in my apartment.
He was hovering, tucking his keys into his pocket—he must have kept the spare—and tilting his head.
His eyes darted over my face, concern evident and downright confusing to me after last night. Why would he be worried about me? Why was he here?
His gaze moved over my head to the mess. Then his expression hardened, his eyes blazing with anger.
“What the hell happened?”
He moved with purposeful strides until he was right in front of me.
He took my hands, and I scrambled to my feet in front of him, too awed to speak coherently.
“Lucy, you have to talk to me.” Knox’s voice was like a warm hug, but I could still hear his worry. “I’m so sorry about last night. I needed to see you. Are you–what happened?”
He squeezed my hands, and the tears came back with vigor. “You’re here.”
It was barely more than a whisper, but it seemed to devastate Knox. His expression crumpled, and he tugged me against his chest, strong arms wrapping me in a tight embrace.
“I know. I am so sorry, Lucy.”
I was shaking, I knew, but I melted into his embrace anyway. I tucked my face into his chest and took his shirt between my fingers in a firm grasp.
“You’re here,” I repeated. “You came back.”
“Of course I did. I was such an idiot to just leave you here.” Knox pressed a kiss to my temple, uncaring of the mess I was.
But eventually, he pulled away. He held me at arm’s length and looked me over with a stern expression that inspired none of the fear I’d felt just hours ago when my dad’s eyes had sparked.
“Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
“I hate that word.” Knox’s jaw clenched. “Are you hurt, yes or no?”
“Not really.”
Knox groaned. “Lucy, I swear to god.”
I grasped his hands when his grip loosened, a desperation filling me at the thought of him leaving again. “Sorry!” I took a breath. “I, uh, there might be some glass in my leg. The lamp broke, and I didn’t clean it up before I sat down.”
Fell down was more accurate, but he didn’t need to know that.
Knox frowned and glanced down at my legs.
“Okay. Let’s get you changed while you tell me about what in the hell happened here.”
I winced, but I couldn’t deny him. Not after he came back, despite everything I’d said. “I’m sorry about last night. I was–”
“Stop. We both said things we didn’t mean.”
He tugged me down the hallway into my room.
It was oddly neat in here, after the disaster of the living room and my studio corner. My bed was only barely ruffled, after I’d mechanically fixed the covers this morning.
Knox wrapped my arms around his neck and helped me out of my pants before he sat me back on the bed.
“Start talking,” he told me sternly. “I’m going to get your first aid kit from your bathroom.”
He didn’t move until I nodded, and he slipped into my bathroom, rifling around in my drawers.
“I don’t hear you explaining.”
I pouted. “It was nothing. Really.”
Why was I lying? Only ten minutes ago, I’d decided to run away like some teenager, escaping my family’s expectations and accepting the first minimum wage job that would hire me.
But, where that would have been embarrassing for me, it felt humiliating to be seen like that by Knox. To stand here and have nothing to offer him.
“Nothing? Really?”
Knox reappeared, his expression flat and disbelieving.
I shrank in on myself.
“Lucy, I want to help.” He kneeled in front of me and gently swiped a cloth over the tiny knicks in my skin. “But I need to know what happened. Who destroyed your living room? Your art supplies? Who did that?”
I bit my lip. “My dad.”
Knox’s gaze burned. “That fucking asshole!”
His grip tightened on my thighs, and I jumped.
He immediately loosened his hold and turned his touch to a light massage instead. “I’m sorry. Just, what the fuck did he do that for?”
I bit my lip. “Have you seen the news?”
He met my gaze, his frown soft and concerned. “No, but I heard about it. Maisie called me. She said your family were asshats.”
I winced. “They were…harsh, maybe. They came over this morning, after all the stories came out, and he was angry.”
Knox rubbed ointment into my skin before pulling a new pair of sweatpants up my legs. He eased me onto my feet to secure them around my waist, then he squeezed my thighs, urging me to jump.
I did, and I wound my legs around his waist.
He sat down on my bed, somehow apparently just wanting me closer to him instead of anything more. His hands were still braced on my thighs, but it was a comforting touch as he pressed a soothing kiss to the side of my neck.
“And he broke your things?”
I nodded. “He yelled at me, said I was ruining our family’s reputation. I blacklisted all of us now, and he’s not happy about it. I’m supposed to learn his business under him now, but…” I bit my lip, not wanting to admit my thoughts from earlier. The doubt was creeping back in.
“But?” Knox prompted anyway.
I hugged his neck, shamefully hiding from the intensity of his gaze.
“Lucy, tell me,” Knox smoothed his hand over my back, “please.”
“What if,” I started, my voice trailing off with my nerves. “Do you think I could survive on my own? Would anyone hire me? I don’t have any work experience.”
Knox froze. “Wait, what?”
I flinched, pulling back. “Forget it. It’s not important–”
“Like hell.” Knox pulled my chin so I was looking at him, shame and all. “You want to move out?”
I nodded, closing my eyes tightly.
I felt his mouth against my cheek then. Soft kisses from one to the other. “Please move out, Lucy. They’re horrible to you.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Open your eyes.”
I did, curiosity outweighing my nerves, if only slightly.
He was smiling at me, something soft and…proud?
“You should absolutely move out, and I know you can make it without their help.” Knox kissed me once, twice—quick kisses that startled me and relaxed me at the same time. “We can figure this out.”
I frowned. “I wasn’t talking about—I don’t need you to take care of me next. Your nana’s house is yours, and I don’t want–”
“My nana’s house is gone.”
My eyes widened. “What? Why? When? What happened to it?”
Knox sighed. “I blew my interview today. Walked out right in the middle of it. And tomorrow is my deadline. I lost it, Lucy.”
“You walked out? Knox, why?”
Knox rolled his eyes and squeezed my hips. “Because I needed to be here. I needed to see your face and apologize for what a dick I was last night. You deserve better than that.”
My stomach twisted. “I ruined your chances to get the job?”
“No!” Knox insisted. “It was my choice, not yours. And I probably wouldn’t have gotten it anyway. I’ve applied and interviewed at dozens of places by now, and this one wouldn't have done anything differently, I’m sure.”
“What place?”
Knox frowned. “Valero Pub & Grill. It’s new, just down the street. A brother and sister own it. Why–”
“I know them.”
I’d known Felix and Isabel since we were kids. Until we turned thirteen, we spent almost every day together. Their dad pulled them away then, I think, because of some business deal gone flat. Dad had been holding a grudge ever since, but I’d stayed in contact with the twins.
They’s honestly been two people who I always considered family.
Their parents, too. Until our parents stopped talking to each other, I spent probably a hundred nights at their house having dinner with their whole family.
I remembered their mama’s cooking and how they dreamed of opening a restaurant together.
Last I heard, Isabel and Felix were in the process of hiring and training their kitchen staff before their grand opening.
Knox’s jaw dropped. “You what?”
“I know them.” I nodded. “We were friends growing up. Our dads had some fight when we were going into high school, so that we couldn’t go to the same one, but once we got cell phones, we found each other again.
I text them all the time. Isabel and I just got lunch together last week, when you were at the interview for the cheesesteak house. ”
“You know Isabel.”
Knox sounded numb, like he couldn’t quite believe what I was saying, but he trusted my words anyway. It sent a flutter of butterflies in my stomach that he trusted me even a little.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Do you want me to text her? She left me a voicemail this morning after everything. I still need to call her back and tell her I’m okay, or she’ll come over here and break down my door.
We have a twenty-four-hour policy with things like this.
I was, uh, maybe procrastinating a bit, because I knew she’d be mad at my dad. ”
Knox rubbed his temples and closed his eyes tightly. “I don’t understand. And I don’t need any handouts, okay?”
I shook my head and caressed his face, tilting his strong jaw up so he would meet my eyes again.
There was vulnerability there, something I knew Knox hated to show people. He didn’t open up much, which is why it felt so good to be invited to meet his friends and go camping at his nana’s house. Those were ways of him letting me in, even though I didn’t deserve it.
“I would never,” I promised. “You’re strong enough to do all of this on your own, but please? I don’t want you to do it alone. I want to help.”
His uncertainty was still there.
“I promise I won’t call in any favors,” I tried. “I will just assure her that I’m alive, and that it was you worrying for me that you left the interview. They could just bring you back in to finish it. That’s all.”
I saw when his resolve crumbled. “You won’t ask for any special treatment?”
I shook my head. “I swear.”
He sighed and stood up, carefully depositing me back on the bed. “Okay. Then yes. Call her, tell her you’re alive, and I will make us some dinner.”
I grinned. “Grilled cheese?”
Knox snorted and crowded close, kissing me slow and deep. I swear, he knew that it melted all the bones in my body every time.
“Call her.” He handed me my phone and waited until I nodded before he strode from the room.
I watched him go as I hit Isabel’s speed dial.
“You’d better have a good reason for falling off the grid today, Lucian Sterling.”
I winced. Not the full name. “I was having a breakdown?”
“No shit, Sherlock. Do I need to come over? Because I will, even if Felix is whining about some gold-star interviewee who bailed.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that…”