Chapter 45
I almost feel peaceful inside. But I know it’s temporary. Lucas is quiet the rest of dinner. He eats with determination, but something has dragged him into a recess in his brain.
After he slides his credit card out of the leather bill holder and signs the receipt, he turns his gaze to mine.
I finally ask one of the questions that’s been riding me since I met Lucas. “Why are you so determined to help me?”
He taps a finger on the table for a few seconds. “It’s complicated.”
I should just accept that. Instead, I tell him what I think is the cause. “Something happened in your past that makes you feel responsible for other people.”
As Lucas toys with the handle of a spoon he didn’t use, he recedes further into the caverns of his mind.
The murmurs of a distant conversation drift to us. I wait, as the candle on our table flickers. The silence between us growing more and more unnerving.
He flips the spoon over a few times and looks uncomfortable when he speaks. “There’s something you should know.”
My mind circles back to what Truck asked me. He wanted to know if I’d talked to Lucas about his past.
Dread trickles down my spine like cold fingers. I brace, unsure of what’s coming.
Softly, I encourage him. “I told you about my baggage, it’s okay to tell me about yours.”
“I’ve had a fucked up past when it comes to women.”
This announcement sends a cold shiver through me. “As in?”
He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Maybe this is a conversation for our drive. Ready to go?”
When he stands up, he offers a hand.
I’ll admit, I’m nervous when I lay mine in his. Whatever he’s got to say must be deeply personal or very troubling. Or both.
My mind goes to the scars on his body. Are they related?
After we leave the restaurant, Lucas drives us away from the beach. The sky is inky. Inside the truck is a comfortable cocoon. I wish we could stay in it forever.
Lucas drives with one hand on the wheel, the other in his lap, as if nothing about the narrow, curvy road bothers him.
I envy that calm. It seems like I’m always drowning in chaos on the inside. Especially so right now.
This has to be about a woman in his past.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, I do. You need to know, and you need to decide if you can accept me after you hear about the things I have to say.”
But he falls silent again.
I want to scream at him for making me wait.
I’m biting my lip when he glances at me.
“It started with my father. He beat my mother. It wasn’t until I was fourteen that I was big enough to defend her. That’s when I realized I was crazy strong for my size. Thus, the name Beast, which I got in the Navy.”
I’m breathless, glued to my seat.
“Like I said, I could keep him off of her, but it wasn’t until I was seventeen that I could take her and my brother and leave.”
What a horrible childhood. His pain echoes through me. “Oh, Lucas…”
“Things didn’t get a lot better. It turns out my mom had been stepping out on him their entire marriage. I didn’t know. She didn’t tell me until we left. I never excused my father for being physically violent with my mother, but I didn’t know how to process this. It destroyed my sense of trust for the people that were supposed to be my role models.”
Oh god. I reach for his arm. “Lucas, I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head, his eyes full of bitter anger. “It is what it is. That’s why I won’t tolerate lying or deceit of any kind.”
I lean back in my seat. Gutted.
I did that to him.
I didn’t lie, but I wasn’t upfront with him. He’s had to make a great sacrifice to open up to me.
“I hope you know that I wouldn’t lie to you. I just couldn’t tell you…”
He looks over at me. “I hope so. I want to believe you’re who you really say you are.”
“I am.”
His jaw hardens, and I see the raw vulnerability in this big, strong man.
“Then, there’s my brother…” he grumbles. “Drew. He fell in love for all the wrong reasons. Shiny object syndrome. And now I’m dealing with the aftermath.”
Lucas reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone and passes it to me. “Open the photos.”
I tap the photo icon. There’s one image.
One.
Not a million photos of random things. No selfies with friends. Nothing fun or trivial.
This fact alone slices my heart. But what’s in the single photo guts me like I’ve been filleted with a dull knife. “Is this him?”
“Yep. That’s my baby brother.”
Baby? They look almost identical. Except for their ink. The other man’s got a sleeve of tattoos on the arm he’s got looped around Lucas’s shoulders. He’s wearing camouflage pants and it looks like they are on a military base. “Where is he now?”
“Serving drinks in a bar on a little island near Puerto Rico.”
“Was he a SEAL also?”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s out?”
“He was discharged for his mental health.” There’s deep emotion in Lucas’s remark. “He blew out of town. I’ve been trying to clean up the mess ever since.”
The pieces are falling into place. “He had a breakdown because of a woman?”
“He was already struggling with PTSD and she took him for everything. Got him five hundred grand in debt. Some of it to loan sharks. He lost his mind, went into psychosis. The Navy had no choice but to discharge him.”
The pain in Lucas’s eyes causes a place deep inside my chest to burn. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s so sad that he lost his career because of her cruel actions.” I’m so pissed on his brother’s behalf my hands tighten on the phone.
“I’m hoping to get him back to the States so I can keep an eye on him. I plan to buy some land. Build some cabins.”
“That sounds so nice.”
“I’ve got more ideas. But I’m just working it out in my head…” He almost seems embarrassed.
I reach across the console of the truck and rub my hand over his forearm. “We can talk about it another time.”
Lucas takes his phone back. “Enough about me.”
We’re back in Santa Rosa. He guides the truck into the compound where his team is staying, pulling to a stop next to their other truck.
His thumb works quickly over the keys on the phone, and soon, a call is connecting on the stereo system of the truck. As it rings, he glances over. “Sit tight. I’m going to make a call before it gets any later.”
Is he calling his brother?
“Beast!” a voice booms.
“Yo, man, you’re on speaker.”
There’s a raspiness to the man’s voice that almost seems familiar. “Long time no talk, fucker.”
Lucas grunts, “When I said you were on speaker it was because I wanted you to watch your dirty-ass mouth. I’ve got female company.”
There’s a dark chuckle. “Let me guess, that pretty Middle Eastern gal? I hope so, about fucking time you got your head out of your ass.”