Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter
Thirty-Five
It was comforting for Lucas to be around the
animals, and it felt good to use his muscles, pushing harder than
he usually would in order to wear himself out. It was easier to
focus on the ache of sore muscles instead of letting his mind play
over the chaos of the night before.
The fight, the kiss, the police station…it
had all been too much. The fight at least had been justified.
Necessary. Perfect, a tiny voice in Lucas’s brain insisted,
but he quashed that idea. He couldn’t be like that anymore. He’d
learned his lesson the hard way. The way that made someone else pay
for Lucas’s mistakes. He couldn’t fight again, no matter how
exhilarating it had been. But this one time, with the
justifications he’d had…damn, he had no regrets about the
fight.
The kiss had been a mistake, of course. Lucas
hadn’t just stepped over a line, he’d jumped over the damn thing
and sprinted as far away from it as possible. And he knew there’d
be consequences. There was no way Father Mark was going to be
coming out for his casual visits anymore, not if he was afraid he
was going to get jumped at any moment. Still, the kiss itself had
been… Lucas frowned. The kiss had been like the fight, he supposed.
It felt great at the time, but his actions had consequences and he
couldn’t escape them. He was surprised to realize how much he would
miss spending time with Father Mark. One more thing he’d messed up,
even if the father had been his typically understanding self about
it afterward. Being understanding was a lot different than being
stupid, and the priest would have to be stupid to trust Lucas again
after that mess-up.
And then the police station. Paperwork,
threats, and a court date three weeks down the road to let some
judge decide if Lucas’s parole violations were enough to send him
back to jail. He pulled two hay bales off the stack, balancing one
on each shoulder and almost relishing the way their sharp stalks
scratched against his neck and cheeks. Better to be distracted by
that discomfort than to think about being back in prison, losing
all the small gains he’d made in his outside life.
But it had all been worth it, he decided as
he staggered under the weight of the bales and headed toward the
trap door that would drop the hay down to the concrete floor of the
barn. There was no way he could have let Father Mark get hurt and
he’d kept that from happening the best way he knew how. The kiss…he
ran his tongue over his lips and almost groaned, thinking about the
long line of Mark’s body pinned beneath his own…even the kiss was
hard to regret. The priest would have stopped coming out for visits
at some point anyhow, so at least this way Lucas had one beautiful
memory to store away.
He dropped the bales through the trap door
and flipped it shut, then headed for the steep staircase that would
take him down to the animals. He swung the door open and jumped
backward in surprise when he saw the man who’d been about to open
the door from the other side. “Father Mark!”
“Lucas, hey.” The priest’s smile was almost
shy. “I hope you don’t mind me coming out to see you. I wanted to
check in, and Daniel Cohen wouldn’t tell me anything. He said it
would violate lawyer-client privilege.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Lucas said, confused. “I
told him I didn’t need him.” More like “couldn’t afford him,” but
there was no need to drag Father Mark into any of that.
“So who’s representing you?”
“Public defender, I guess. I didn’t see
anyone last night. Well, that Cohen guy talked to the cops for me,
since he was there anyway. He said he’d do it pro bono…I guess that
means he’d do it that one time?”
“‘Pro bono’ means he’ll do it for free. And
from the way he was talking this morning, it sounded like he’d be
doing the whole case for free. It sounded like he thinks you’re his
client.”
“For free?” That made no kind of sense.
“You should call him and figure it out. You
need representation, Lucas.”
Lucas didn’t want to think about any of that.
“Okay,” he said noncommittally. “Hey, did you have any trouble this
morning? Any more problems at the apartment?”
Father Mark shook his head. “No. No sign of
anyone.”
“Okay, good.” Lucas had the beginnings of a
plan for how to make sure things stayed that way, but he didn’t
think he was quite ready to share it yet. Which left them with a
bit of a gap in the conversation. Surely the priest had covered
what he’d come out for, so why was he still standing in the
doorway? And why was he wearing his work clothes and carrying his
leather gloves?
“You’re throwing down hay?”
Lucas wasn’t sure where this was going. “Just
finished.”
“Do you want me to help you stack it
downstairs? Or should I start feeding?”
“You’re staying?” Lucas felt like an idiot as
soon as he said the words. Maybe he was supposed to be pretending
nothing had changed, acting as if he didn’t know how Mark’s lips
felt against his own. “I mean…” He trailed off. What the hell was
he doing?
“I said I’d help with that fencing today,”
Mark prompted gently.
“Yeah, but…” Damn it, Lucas wasn’t good at
unspoken messages. He wasn’t much good at the spoken ones either,
but at least there was a chance of clarity that way. “I fucked up.
Yesterday night.” He stared at Mark, waiting for a response, then
awkwardly said, “In your apartment. By the door…you know. That
was…I was way out of line. Sorry.”
“You were worked up,” the priest said as if
he’d been thinking about this. “From the fight. Adrenaline.”
“Yeah,” Lucas agreed quickly. Was it possible
that his behavior was going to be excused? “But that doesn’t make
it okay. I can’t go around molesting people just because I was in a
fight. That doesn’t make sense. And I can’t…not you. I mean…”
Mark was watching him closely. “I don’t think
‘molesting’ is the word I’d use. And are you saying it was a
mistake because you weren’t allowed to do it, or because you didn’t
want to do it?”
Lucas didn’t understand the question. It felt
like a trick, but the priest didn’t usually seem devious that way.
Still, it was better safe than sorry. “I don’t want to do things
I’m not allowed to do.” That was the best answer for a man on
parole to give.
But Mark snorted in disbelief. “Really? I
want to do all kinds of things I’m not allowed to do.” He grinned
mischievously. “Usually I don’t do them. But wanting? Yeah. I
want to do them.”
Lucas swallowed hard. Apparently this
conversation was going to be more honest that he’d hoped. “Okay,”
he said carefully. “I guess…I guess I wanted to. But that doesn’t
mean I had the right to. I’m sorry.”
Mark nodded slowly, then said, “You didn’t
have the right. But don’t be sorry.”
Lucas didn’t think he was ready for any more
confusion, so he didn’t pursue whatever the priest was trying to
get at with that. “I won’t do it again. I mean, I know that doesn’t
make it okay that I did it once. But it kind of caught me by
surprise that time. Now that I know it’s…you know…something that I
might want to do…I’ll be more careful.”
The priest was still watching Lucas closely,
and now he narrowed his eyes even further. “Is there a pretty long
list? Of behaviors you have to be on guard against. Instincts you
have to consciously repress.” His lips twitched a little before he
added, “Things you want to do that you shouldn’t do.”
Lucas knew he must look stupid, staring at
the priest blankly as his mind whirled through all the rules he’d
had to make for himself. No drinking, no fighting. No physical
contact that might lead to fighting, no physical contact that might
lead to inappropriate desires. No hurting people. No letting
himself get drawn into things that might hurt people. And no
forgetting what he’d done. Not ever. Those were the ones he had
words for, the ones he’d made up for himself. There were the
others, of course—the ones Dr. Clark had helped him become aware of
in the prison therapy sessions. Don’t trust people, don’t let
anyone see your weakness, don’t show any emotion other than
anger. And the rules from even earlier, the ones burned into
his childish mind and reinforced with fear and pain. Don’t be so
lazy, don’t be a pain in the ass, don’t be such a fucking loser,
don’t cry, don’t tell.
But Lucas had paused too long and somehow the
priest had come a step closer and was peering at Lucas with
concern. “Did I hit a nerve? I’m sorry.”
Lucas stepped backward and ran into the
solidity of a stack of hay bales. “Sorry, no, I’m fine. I can add
another rule to the list. It’s not full yet.” He tried for a smile.
“It’s all under control.”
Father Mark nodded slowly. “That’s important,
isn’t it? Control. You need to be under control.”
Lucas didn’t want to say it, but he needed to
end this conversation. “Of all people, you and your family should
know that bad things happen when I lose control.”
It shut the priest up, at least, and Lucas
was able to edge sideways and circle around to the door. “I’ll do
the feeding later. If you want to help with the fence, we can do
that now.”
Father Mark didn’t follow right away but
Lucas didn’t look back. He normally turned around and went down the
steep stairs like a ladder but this time he went frontward. When he
stepped on some loose hay halfway down he lost his balance and let
himself fall, turning the motion into a jump and stumbling only a
little when he jarred onto the concrete. He was halfway to the barn
door when he finally glanced over his shoulder and saw Father
Mark’s legs climbing carefully down the stairs. Apparently the
priest wasn’t going to be easily discouraged.
Lucas wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Well, he knew exactly how he felt. He was relieved. He’d done
something really stupid, something that could have cost him one of
the only friends he had, but it seemed like he was going to get
away with it. But the relief only went so deep before it ran into a
whole new worry. Lucas was getting too attached to this man, and
that was dangerous. Considering who they both were, their brutal
connection in the past, there was no way they could stay friends
forever. And by the time Lucas made his next stupid move, did
whatever it was that would finally drive Father Mark away, Lucas
might have grown even more attached.
For his own sanity, he needed to keep his
distance. But he was too weak to do what he knew he had to, and
when Father Mark eased in beside him and stood, waiting, Lucas
welcomed the company. “Alex says fencing sucks,” Lucas said
conversationally.
“He says that about every job out here,
doesn’t he?”
“He likes doing the feeding. If it was up to
him, we’d have a bunch of really fat animals eating out of dirty
feeders, standing around knee-deep in shit, or wandering off
through the broken fences.”
“Good thing you’re here, then,” Father Mark
said quietly.
Lucas supposed it was. He’d found a way to be
useful. He looked over at the man walking next to him as they
headed for the equipment shed. He was helpful on the farm, and he’d
helped Father Mark the night before. And he had one more way to be
helpful, he was pretty sure. A way to make sure that even after the
priest had moved on and gone back to his usual life, he’d still be
safe. It was going to mean one more violation of the rules of his
parole, one more chance of being ripped out of this little life he
was trying to make for himself. He glanced over at the priest
again, and this time Mark caught his look and raised a quizzical
eyebrow.
“Grab those wire cutters,” Lucas said, and
Mark turned his attention to the tool, giving Lucas a little more
time to watch his earnest, kind face. It was all he needed. Taking
a chance to help Mark be safe? It was absolutely something Lucas
wanted to do, no matter what the consequences were for himself.