Chapter 31 Scarlett
scarlett
I’m still shaken from watching Lucas fall to the floor.
Seeing the strongest man I know drop to his knees like his body finally gave up its fight.
I didn’t think anything could hurt more than the sight of him lying boneless on the ground, on the verge of giving up himself.
It was the very same look I saw on his face when we found him standing at the bottom of the bridge.
The reminder of what could have happened that day sits like a rock in my throat.
I just moved on to the closet when a wooden box catches my eye. It’s buried under a bunch of folded shirts, shirts that are one hundred percent men's shirts. The top looks like it’s been branded, their last name burned into the light wood.
My finger flicks the lock open, and what’s sitting on top has my vision tunneling. “L-Lucas.” My voice shakes as I call out for him.
He’s by my side in a second, dropping to the floor beside me. “What? What is it?” His voice is frantic, laced with panic as he takes the box from me.
I can’t speak, I just stare at the letter sitting on top.
He studies the paper on top, the paper I know he has no idea the significance of.
But I do. That stamp sits on every memo that gets sent out at Arias Corp.
My stomach turns so violently that I’m jumping off the floor and running to the bathroom, barely leaning over the toilet before I’m heaving. The sound is raw and humiliating.
His hand runs the length of my shoulder blades in slow, steady strokes until I can breathe again. He doesn’t say anything as he hands me a washcloth after I slump against the wall opposite him.
“Lettie,” he says softly, “what’s going on?”
My eyes flutter closed. The question is gentle, but there’s unimaginable weight behind it.
When I open my eyes, he’s picked up the letter, staring at it like it personally offended him.
His brows pinch together, lips slightly parted as he drags his tongue over his bottom lip.
I move before I can think, trying to snatch the letter from him. “Can we read this later?”
He shakes his head, slow and deliberate. “What are you hiding?” His tone holds no accusation.
He peels my fingers off the edge of the paper one by one. The sound of it unfolding is deafening. I can’t breathe. I can’t watch him break again, so I turn away. Walking back to the closet and pulling shirts out of the drawer to make sure there isn’t anything else hiding beneath them.
Then I hear it. His quick inhale.
“He threatened my mom into silence,” he mutters a curse. “My whole life, I thought she hated me. But she was protecting me from… your father.”
His words hit harder than any slap could.
Every muscle in my body tenses until my shoulders are pulled up to my ears.
I knew it wasn't going to be good, but I never imagined that. I want to reach for him, wrap him up in my arms, and beg him to forgive me for something I couldn’t have controlled.
But I freeze, afraid of the look on his face, the disgust, the betrayal.
His arms slide around me so suddenly I don’t even have time to react. He pulls me in, holding me tight to his chest, his breath ragged against my hair. “Lettie, this isn’t on you. You know that, right?”
I nod, choking back sobs.
“Do you think I hate you?”
Another nod, because honestly, how else could this end? How could he look at me and love me when my own blood took any type of parental love from him?
“I can hear you beating yourself up from here.” He tips my chin until I’m forced to meet his eyes. “I could never hate you.”
I shake my head in disbelief, “How can you not, Lucas?”
He sighs, thumb brushing a tear off my cheek. “Because I’ve spent half my life being angry. At her. At dad for leaving us. At myself, and it doesn’t bring either of them back. It doesn’t change anything.” His head hangs heavy in front of him, tears hitting the wood floor with a muted thump.
“You didn’t do this, Lettie.” He says quietly, “We weren’t even alive when this started.”
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
The silence feels like the beginning of a revival of some sort.
The grief has burned out, and in its place is an all-consuming desire for answers.
When he speaks, what's left of my heart cracks down the middle. “You are my future, Lettie. You always have been. This doesn’t change that.”
“I can’t be the reason you get hurt. I can’t be the reason anyone here gets hurt,” I whisper.
“Nuhuh.” A feminine voice cuts through the room. Abby and Hannah step into the closet, with the rest of the guys just outside the door. “Trust tree, Scarlett,” Abby says.
“You’re one of us now. And we don’t fight our battles alone,” Hannah says as she bends down next to me.
Her hand lands on my shoulder, “These guys have been there for us more times than I can count. You let us know what you need, and we’ll make sure it happens. But you don’t get to go at this alone.”
“Especially with that martyr mindset,” Reed says. Every bit of his captain's authority bleeding through. “We’re more than a team, Scarlett. We’re family, this group here would ride into any battle for each other, no matter what the odds.”
I’m overwhelmed with emotion. All my life, I believed I had to perform to earn this kind of love and acceptance, proving myself worthy by handling things on my own. Yet here they are willing to run into fire, so I don’t have to do it myself.
“I don’t know what I…” My eyes meet Lucas’s. “What we need. But someone sent documents to the house that would ruin everything my father had built. I just don’t know what to do with them.”
Abby’s eyes twinkle, a villainous smile taking over her face. “I happen to have a brother who could do a lot of damage very quietly, while two of my other brothers could make a heck of an ordeal out of it.”
I feel my own smile grow, “Pick your position, sister.” Hannah says with a cackle.
“I want him to hurt the way he’s hurt others,” I say as my resolve hardens. “Tell them to do their worst.”
Abby’s fingers steeple in front of her, each finger tip rippling one by one as they kiss the tips of the fingers on her other hand. “Excellent,” she says in her best Mr. Burns voice.
“You guys don’t hate me?”
Wilson steps through the door, squatting in front of me.
“My mom was far from a good parent.” His gentle eyes calm the gnawing fear of rejection sitting at the base of my throat.
“She was abusive, manipulative, and until she finally got thrown in jail, she stole from every one of my friends' parents.”
His eyes drop to the floor. “When I got placed in foster care, I got shuffled around a bit, but eventually got placed with this guy and his parents.” Wilson hooks his finger over his shoulder at Andrews, who steps up behind him.
“He’s been my brother my entire life, as far as I’m concerned. My mom had gotten out, briefly, but in that time, she managed to almost drain the Andrews’ bank account. I was ten, I had no idea how any of that banking stuff worked.”
Lucas pulls me back into his chest, “They could have blamed me, hated me. I deserved it, even if I didn’t know any better. It was still my mother who put them in a position to fight the way they did.”
His voice takes on a sad note, “When I got adopted, I thought they gave me away. But they didn’t, they just wanted what was best for me. And now, my parents are the coolest people I know.”
“Seconded,” Andrews says.
“Third.” Sammy chimes in.
“Agreed.” Reed finishes.
Wilson shakes his head with a soft laugh, “I know love because of the Andrews family. They have never once held the actions of my mother against me. And we won’t hold your father's actions against you. That’s not what family does.”
I sit up, throwing my arms around his neck. He’s still for a second before his arms wrap around my shoulders. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.” He says as he claps me on the shoulder, “Now, let’s do some damage.”
Sammy claps loudly, “Hell yeah! Team bonding.” He says before he runs out of the room.
How I got lucky enough to call these guys my friends, I will never know. But I’ll never take it for granted.