Chapter 9
“L et it go.”
Let it go? He didn’t even understand what he was asking.
I didn’t even completely understand what I was feeling.
I was suddenly just so tired of holding everything in and being strong. I felt like I was on the precipice of something and about to topple over into an abyss with no end in sight.
I immediately felt absolutely furious about everything that had happened to me.
Seeing everything good in my life, and watching Nat thrive infuriated me. We’d had that stolen from us for so long.
Seeing how everything should’ve been was breaking me.
Being scared of everyone leaving me was breaking me.
I was breaking myself.
I was projecting everything out onto everyone through cleaning and everything was manifesting through panic attacks and more cleaning.
I was infuriated that I’d been so stupid and needy that I’d been drawn to someone like Clark.
I was instantly furious that I’d been stupid enough to get in the car with Larry.
Me being stupid enough to get in that car was what led Paul away from his family, forever.
I saw my hand strike out and hit Lucas in the chest again.
He was braced this time and didn’t even falter half a step. I wasn’t strong enough to hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him. He was just there. Always pushing me to be better, and do better. I was mad at him for being so fucking perfect that I had to be scared every day that he’d disappear.
“That's all you got?” his voice grumbled down at me.
Suddenly my vision was clouded with moisture that wasn’t because I was scared or anxious. They were furious tears that were coming from years of injustice and I kept slapping his chest with both hands, crying, and ranting about it all. Everything that I’d held in for over a decade was pouring out of my mouth.
My insecurities and fears rushed out from between my lips.
“Everyone thinks it's so easy,” I gasped, not even recognizing my own voice through the angry sobs, “being so lonely without my parents and grandparents that I was stupid enough to fall for a monster like Clark. Ignoring all the signs and letting him brainwash me to believe I really couldn’t do better. Letting him hit me and going back a second and third time. It took taking a fucking pregnancy test to wake me up, because I didn’t value myself enough.”
Lucas still just stood there. Silent and accepting of my palms slapping against his chest. Hearing the words I had never spoken aloud to anyone else. No matter how self-deprecating they were.
“Never letting anyone in. Never having friends. Having to fucking train my daughter to be secretive just to keep her safe. I ran and he still destroyed her childhood. I still feel like a failure of a mother because she just now gets to see what it should’ve been like. I hate myself every day I look into the mirror. I hate that I let it happen. I hate that she had to grow up that way. I hate that I ran and ran. I hate that he followed me. I hate that the first friend I’ve ever had lost her husband because of me. I hate that he felt like he needed to save me so he came in without waiting for help. I hate that I feel like I’m not good enough to deserve all of everyone’s love and acceptance and understanding. I hate that I know deep down I do deserve it all and that none of it is my fault and the real problem is I just don’t know how to fucking fix it!” I screamed the last part, shoving him and falling to my knees, even as he braced his arms around me and followed me down so I didn’t hurt myself.
I covered my face as everything poured out of me, at long last. Having told someone my darkest thoughts and fears. Never having even voiced them to my therapist.
Lucas saw it all in the cozy kitchen of the house he grew up in.
He saw it all.
He’d let me use him as a punching bag and sounding board.
He’d dealt with me hanging on to the edge of a cliff for months.
He stayed.
He wrapped my daughter and I in so much love and understanding. I had been fighting this for months even though I knew I could talk to him. I knew he wouldn’t go anywhere. No matter what I admitted or what I said, he would never leave me. Leave us.
I felt him sit on the floor beside me, leaned back against the bar. I felt his hand come around my arm and pull me gently until I was sitting across his lap. He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me, and holding me tight.
Lucas didn’t share any words of wisdom.
He didn’t start trying to pick up my shattered pieces laying open and bare.
Instead Lucas acted like the harbor in the midst of my storm, murmuring nonsense to me just so I’d know he was there when it was over.
My body relaxed against his bit by bit. My right ear was pressed against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Removing my glasses, I wiped my tears away on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, still sniffling. I was positive I looked disgusting. I could feel my ponytail hanging loose, pieces of hair stuck to my face with my tears. The front of my sweatshirt was soaked through from how hard I’d been sobbing.
“That was a long time coming,” his voice rattled through his chest and I sniffed again even as I let out a pathetic laugh.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Never apologize,” he answered, running a large hand down my back. “You’ve been holding a lot of that in, for a lot longer than I even thought,” he murmured, “But I do want to reply to a few things before we move on.”
I sat still, snuggled against him, feeling like I’d been through a natural disaster. The adrenaline was leaving my system, leaving me weak and trembling.
“You, Rebecca Wareman, are anything but stupid.” He spoke softly, but firmly. “You were a young woman who had found herself alone in the world at too young of an age. Clark was a predator that was just waiting for that kind of person to cross his path.”
I shivered and he tightened his arms around me.
“Clark got to you when you were lost in your grief. You were alone, scared, and hadn’t ever gotten close to anyone. He was the first who’d shown you any affection or love in forever and he used it to his advantage. I hate that you didn’t have someone who was enough of a friend to speak up and help. I hate that you were already such a closed off individual, because I think that made it even easier for him” he continued, “Whether you did or didn’t leave? Whether you went back or not? Doesn’t make you stupid. It was all you knew. It was all you’d had. He was the only constant in your life. No one is stupid for being scared that whatever is outside their nightmare may actually be worse. That positive pregnancy test? It woke you up. You were already a mother before you took it. You got over your fear of being alone and ran because you knew you needed to save your baby. That's the kind of badass woman you are.”
I snorted softly.
“Don’t do that. Don’t sell yourself short. It took balls to run from that apartment that night. To pack a small bag and disappear. To face him in court and lie to save both your lives. That was badass. You are badass. That means you’re also not stupid for getting in that car with Larry that day. You were saving your daughter’s life all over again. You also didn’t make Paul’s decision for him. He chose to do what he did. He signed up for this life. He knew I’d have done the same if it had been Monica in that house. You’re doing him a helluva disservice by not living your life to the fullest and counting his friends and family short. We don’t have anything to forgive you for. You’re not the monster that took him away from us. You didn’t bring them here. That was their choice. Do I hate that you were alone and running so long? Yes. But I can’t say that I’m not grateful for it because, baby. I think it was bringing you right to me.”
I was crying again, listening to him, different tears. Healing tears.
“From the moment you backed up into me in that school office, and I felt you? When I looked over at Monica and saw the way she was smiling at you and looked at me? I knew that was it. You were mine. It was done and there wouldn’t be any more looking for me. You’re not stupid, Rebecca Wareman. You are brave and strong and amazing. I would go through hell for you. I’ll be your punching bag and sounding board no matter how many times you need me to be. This relationship isn’t always going to be pretty, but it's ours and I’m never letting go. I love you.”
I sniffled again, “I love you too.” I looked up at him and he grinned down at me.
“Do you at least feel better?” he asked softly, running his thumb over my cheek gently, cupping it and searching my eyes with his gray ones.
I nodded, leaning up and kissing the tip of his nose, like we often did to each other.
He kissed the tip of my nose in return and picked up my glasses from my lap, setting them up on the kitchen bar from the floor where we sat.
Glancing around the kitchen with slightly blurry eyes I groaned at the wrapping paper, tape and scissors that had sprawled across the floor. At least the presents had stayed on top.
He chuckled, squeezing me tight again.
“You’re quite the firecracker when you get worked up,” he said, jokingly.
“Shut up.” I grumbled, half-heartedly, still feeling worn out from my emotional release.
“You do know how much I love and adore you right?” he asked.
Looking up at him, I nodded again.
“How much I need you day in and day out? There’s only you, Becks. From now until forever. There’s only you,” he said, cupping the side of my face again, his eyes boring into mine with intensity.
“I know,” I whispered, “There’s only you for me too.”
His lips met mine, gently pressing, and I sighed into him, wrapping my arms around his neck to draw him closer against me. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, running his tongue across the seam of my lips so I parted them for him. His tongue delved inside my mouth, coaxing mine to dance with his as the feelings within the room shifted. Moving his right hand down my back he guided me down to the floor, following until he was braced over me, never breaking our contact.
I didn’t care that the wood was hard under my back when Lucas’ heat was pressing into me from above. I felt like I needed this closeness with him after the explosion and apparently he did too. His hands ran down my sides gently, up under my sweatshirt, until he covered my breasts, squeezing gently.
“Is this okay?” he whispered, lips moving against mine. Always checking in with me. Always making sure everything was alright.
“More than,” I whispered back as he massaged my breasts through the lace of my bra before he took my mouth in another heated, searing kiss. His rough fingertips found my hardened nipples through the lace, flicking softly as my back arched and I moaned softly into his mouth. His thumb and pointer finger on each hand pinched my nipples gently, twisting them.
I felt my core pulse with need as wetness pooled between my thighs and I whispered his name, breathlessly.
“You’re always so ready for me,” he murmured against my neck, licking and sucking at it. “So responsive. How wet are you already?” he questioned, biting my skin softly.
His mouth was going to actually set me on fire one day. I was instantly desperate for him. I needed him inside me, just so I could feel him and know he was there and mine forever.
“Lucas, I need you.” I whispered, threading my fingers through his hair and tugging until his gray eyes met my brown ones. His eyes darkened at whatever he saw there.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve always got you.” he said. Lucas rose to his knees over me, gently pulling me up to remove my sweatshirt and bra. His large hand pressed into my chest so I laid back down on the floor.
I shivered at the cold, my nipples tightening further. He leaned over me, covering one of them with his mouth and laving at the bud with his tongue, sucking.
I cried out into the empty kitchen, arching against his mouth as he switched to the other side, treating it to the same attention.
“Lucas,” my hips were moving restlessly under him, desperate for his touch.
“Shhhh,” he hushed me softly. He was running his hands down and sliding my leggings and panties off, tossing them over his shoulder. He looked like a dark god in the light of the kitchen as he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt off. My body heated further as my eyes took him in. Every inch from his neck down was covered in ink and I licked my lips. My dark god.
He unbuckled his belt slowly, drawing out the tension, unbuttoning then unzipping his jeans.
“Lucas, please,” I begged. I didn’t care thatI was pleading. He was torturing me.
Placing his left hand beside my head, he leaned over me, taking my mouth in another heated kiss. His right hand moved down my chest between my breasts and over my stomach. When his fingers touched the apex of my thighs I parted for him automatically, desperate for his touch.
His fingertips slid over the slick collection of my arousal between my legs, moving over my lower lips as he groaned.