Chapter 11
Austin
Luca’s still asleep beside me. It’s a miracle I slept at all.
I’ve seen Luca in many stages of his life.
I’ve seen him smiling and laughing. I’ve seen him hiding behind his hands while watching a scary movie.
Crying because he got hurt. Sobbing at his parents’ funeral.
Singing loudly in the car. Free and alive, running through the fields.
I’ve never, not one time in our entire lives, seen him that afraid.
He was doing so well too. His bruises had almost healed, and he was moving with less pain. I could see it improving every single day that passed. He was getting better.
I was a bit surprised that he got out of the house and went to the diner, but I could tell it was good for him. I heard the spark on the phone. The old him coming to the surface. The parts of him that Damien couldn’t touch.
Damien ruins everything. And it doesn’t even have to be him. Just the memory of him. The thought of him. It makes me fucking sick.
Luca shifts in his sleep, rolling away from me and facing the wall. His asking to sleep in here was another surprise to me. He’d been so adamant that he didn’t want to take my room that it surprised me.
It wasn’t a hard choice to stay with him when he asked. It’s not like we haven’t done this before a hundred times over the years. And sure, we’re older now, but it’s really not any different.
And the truth is, I didn’t want to leave him alone either. First off, it scares the shit out of me that he was gone—outside in the damn woods, apparently—and I didn’t even know. Anything could have happened to him. Hell, something did happen to him.
And second off, he hasn’t asked anything of me since he got here.
He’s worked very hard to be independent and not lean on me.
Other than when he called me to come get him, he’s been trying very hard to prove that he can do things on his own.
And of course he can. But it makes me happy to know that if he does need something, he’ll ask for it instead of suffering in silence.
I think we need a day to relax, though. Without having to worry about getting out of the house. Or hell, even getting out of bed.
Luca always seems to think he has to perform.
I understand why. The reasoning makes sense, and I can’t fault him for it, but I think part of his healing will be realizing that he doesn’t have to always be on.
Doesn’t always have to be anticipating the needs of those around him, and especially not my needs.
If this man tries to bend over backward to make me dinner one more time, I might lose my mind.
I ease the blankets off myself and carefully climb out of bed. It’s chilly this morning, especially outside the blankets—almost the time of year to start using the heat. If I can get away with it for just a little longer, I will, though.
I pull the bedroom door shut quietly so I can hopefully get breakfast made without waking Luca.
He needs the sleep. It would be impossible to miss the way he tosses and turns on the couch each night.
I don’t know if my exhaustion from work had me sleeping so heavily I missed it, but he seems to have slept relatively well last night.
I want him to keep that up and sleep in. Hell, after last night, he deserves it.
I make quick work of getting breakfast together.
Scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. But not just any toast. Toast with maple syrup.
Pancakes? French toast? Waffles? Not for Luca.
The only two acceptable things to eat with syrup are plain, unbuttered toast, and chili.
Why chili? No idea. It grosses me out, but he loves it, and who am I to judge?
After I’m done cooking, I plate everything up and head back into the bedroom. I’m a little surprised to find Luca awake and sitting up. Mostly because he really hasn’t been much for just sitting around. “Good morning,” I say softly, careful not to startle him.
Luca and I used to be loud. So loud that it drove our parents insane, but now?
Now even the smallest noises startle him.
He gets restless when I sigh or when I set my boots down too hard.
He’s constantly side-eyeing me, checking my hands, and scanning my face.
It’s almost like he’s waiting for me to become Damien.
Like he’s waiting for me to… hurt him. It’d be a cold day in hell before I ever put hands on him.
But I understand it’s not my fault or, hell, even about me at all, so I smile and soften my voice and work hard to keep my hands where he can see them.
He inhales a deep breath, his eyes flashing. “Good morning.” His voice is croaky this morning, no doubt from the screaming last night. “Whatcha got there?”
I glance down at the plates, stepping fully into the room. “Breakfast. We’re not leaving the bed today. We’re gonna eat, watch trash TV, talk about nothing, and do the same.”
Luca stares at me for a second, then he smiles. “Okay. That’s fine, I guess.”
After handing him his plate, I sit down on the bed and get comfortable. Luca gasps, and I turn to him quickly. “Holy shit. Toast and syrup. You remembered?”
I blink at him in confusion. “What do you mean I remembered? You’ve been eating it that way since you were five years old.”
Luca looks from his plate to me. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… never mind. Thank you.”
He holds his fork up to me, so I clink mine off his, and we both dig in. “Trash TV, huh?” Luca asks, cutting a piece off his toast and shoving it into his mouth. His eyes close, and he smiles.
“Sure,” I say, studying him. “Why are you acting like it’s been years since you’ve eaten toast and syrup?”
Luca swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because it has been years since I’ve eaten it.” He sighs. “Damien made me feel bad about it.”
“What? How? What the fuck does he care how you eat your toast?”
“You know? I don’t know.” Luca shrugs, taking another bite. “The more important question,” he mumbles around his mouthful of food, “is why I let him bully me out of eating what I enjoyed.”
Because he controlled every aspect of your life. Because he fucking hit you if you didn’t listen to him. Because he made you feel small so you wouldn’t realize how much better you are than him and leave his sorry ass. “Well, I’ll make you toast and syrup every morning from now on.”
He inhales a sharp breath, and tears fill his eyes. My stomach drops. “Whoa. Hey, what’s wrong?”
Luca waves his hand dismissively. “I’m fine.” Doesn’t seem very fine. “You’re just being really nice to me.”
I’m not really sure what to say to that. I’m not doing anything differently from what I’ve done our entire lives. I nod slowly. “I’m being normal to you, Luc. If someone making you toast with syrup is them being nice, the bar is too low, and you need to raise it.”
The tears disappear with his loud laugh. “I think the bar is actually gonna be too high now. I’m never fucking dating again.”
“You’re a little young to give up forever,” I tease. “Wait until you’re at least as old as Burt before you decide to make that call.”
Luca rolls his eyes as he goes back to eating. “You may be right. But ugh. The idea of starting over and trusting someone again? Pass. Besides, this town sucks for dating. Why do you think I had to give up my virginity to you?”
I can’t help but laugh. “They have apps now, you know. Plus, hey, we’re not teenagers anymore. I hear they even have bars and clubs you can drive to.”
“Double pass,” Luca says, leaning against the headboard and resting his mostly empty plate on his thigh. “So, what did you want to watch?”
Conversation closed, I suppose. It makes sense that dating wouldn’t be anywhere near the top of his priority list, but hopefully, he won’t always feel that way.
Eventually, I hope he’ll heal enough to want that for himself.
But hell, maybe not, and that’s valid too. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.”
I hand him the remote, and he turns on MasterChef. I’m not sure if I’d call this trash TV, but hey, it works.
We settle in to watch an episode, finishing our food in relative silence. We’re halfway through an episode when he starts getting fidgety, shifting back and forth, tapping his fingers on his thighs, and moving his toes under the blankets.
I pause the show and catch his attention. “What’s up, Luc?”
He nibbles on his bottom lip before sighing. “I want to go back outside. To the woods. I think I need to… Fuck. I just—I don’t know. I need to see it during the day, I think. Convince myself it’s just trees and dirt. Not Damien.”
I think that makes sense. “Want some company?”
Luca snaps his attention to me. “Really?”
“Why not?” I shrug. Plus, I really don’t want a repeat of last night. “I could use some fresh air.”
He gives me a single resolute nod, then tosses the blankets off himself. He still doesn’t have a jacket yet, and dammit, I need to get on that, but for now, he can use mine. I grab a hoodie off the floor and pull it over my head, then go get my jacket and hold it out to him.
“I don’t want to take your jacket,” he says, shaking his head.
I lift his arm and drape the jacket over it. “You need it. I’m fine. But we do need to go get you one soon.”
“Fine.” He sighs but puts the jacket on without further protest, then we step out the front door together. “I really need a job. I can’t have you buying stuff for me forever.”
I hum. “Remember that summer you convinced Ma it wasn’t fair to ground me since it was basically grounding you, so she took my allowance for the whole summer instead?”
“Yeah?” Luca says, voice lilting in confusion.
“You paid for my ice cream and all my candy that entire summer. I think I owe you one. Get a job because you’re ready and you want one. Not because you think it’s some burden for me to buy you a jacket. I really don’t mind.”
He grumbles under his breath, then follows me out the front door. It’s unseasonably cold for this time of year, but it’s pretty—the sun shining and the birds singing.
We walk across the yard in silence. Luca’s steps become more hesitant as we approach the tree line, but he takes a deep breath and keeps pushing. This’ll be good for him, I think. Being able to confront his fears safely. Being able to prove to himself that Damien won’t be able to find him here.
Slipping into the trees, we continue walking side by side. It’s quiet today. Just birds and the crunch of our feet over the leaves. Peaceful. I haven’t done as much exploring here as I probably should, but then again, I’ve had no reason to.
“He’s not here,” Luca says, stopping and looking around.
“No,” I agree. “He’s not here.”
He kicks at the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “I don’t know why I thought he was.”
I bump his shoulder with mine. “It’s probably normal. Your mind playing tricks on you.”
“Yeah.” Luca sighs. “Well, it’s cold, so we can go back.”
I nod, gesturing for him to lead the way. When we step into the clearing, Luca turns his head, his gaze falling on the gazebo. “When we first got here, I thought that might be a cool place to write.”
I smile at that. I love the idea of him writing again. “That would be nice.”
He snorts a humorless laugh. “I’m pretty sure Damien killed all the creativity in me.”
“You’ll get it back, Luca,” I whisper.
It’s only been a couple of weeks. I think he needs to get out of the house more.
Explore the town. Reacquaint himself with his roots.
I don’t think Damien stole his creativity from him.
I don’t think that fucker has enough power to do that.
“You should come with me to dinner at my parents’ on Sunday. I know they’d love it.”
Luca hesitates for a second but finally nods. “Yeah, that would be nice.”