Chapter 25
Iwas filled with worry as I followed Lucas into the station, Paul just now pulling into the parking lot beside us. I owed Monica big time. She claimed I didn’t, but she had my daughter at her house more than I did these days. She said she understood and knew I would do the same if the roles were reversed, which I would, but I was starting to feel like a horrible friend and mother. I wasn’t used to relying on anyone else or asking for help and it was starting to weigh heavily on me.
I watched Lucas’ back as he crossed to another police officer, realizing it was Nick, and communicated with him. I felt like I was floating. I knew this was some sort of extreme panic attack. I didn’t feel like I was in control of my entire body, almost like it was an out of body experience.
“What the hell do you mean, Nick?” I jerked, hearing Lucas’ voice rising in anger.
“Man, you know I can’t let you handle this,” Nick replied, raising his hands placatingly, “You’re too close to everything. There’s no fault in that. You have to let someone else handle this. I’m not doing this to be difficult, and you’d do the same if it were any of us.”
Lucas suddenly lunged, pushing Nick up against the wall. He was seething. I stepped forward quickly and grabbed his arm.
“HEY! Back off, Marshall,” yelled Paul coming up to his other side and yanking him back. “You damn well know this is protocol. Cool it,” he barked.
I’d never seen this side of the usual jovial character, who was Lucas’ best friend. He meant business and his eyes bore into Lucas’ until the latter shook his head and glanced back at Nick.
“I’m sorry, I just…”
Nick interrupted, “It's fine. I get it. I’d be the same way.”
I watched as he took the envelope from Lucas and disappeared through another door.
“Where’s he going? I can’t see what’s on it?” I asked, moving as if to follow him.
“Becks,” Lucas said, moving an arm in front of me to halt my movement, “They gotta check it out first. There’s steps to follow in case it has to be admitted as evidence.”
I looked up at him, and over at Paul.
Paul nodded, obviously solidifying what Lucas was saying.
“What do we do?” I asked.
Paul spoke up, gently, “Right now? You all let Nat stay at our house, hang out with the girls. She needs as much normalcy as possible, and she isn’t a bother, and you don’t owe us shit, Rebecca,” he added, obviously seeing the beginnings of an argument in my eyes.
“I’d suggest you stay somewhere else tonight,” he added, glancing at Lucas. “Probably Marshall’s house, until we get things secure back at your apartment and figure things out, yeah?”
I glanced at Lucas, unsure of where to go from here.
Lucas shook his head again, “Don’t look at me like you have to ask if that’s okay, Rebecca,” he pleaded softly.
I sighed, pushing my hair out of my eyes, “Fine,” I conceded.
I was fighting inner battles. My normal response to this would be to get Natasha, pack, and leave. It wasn’t to rely on anyone else. Sitting around waiting for someone else to take care of things, and handle them, was so far outside of my comfort zone. I could feel the walls that Lucas had been breaking down, rising again. I felt like the other shoe had finally fallen. I felt like I had become too reliant.
Lucas guided me out, opening the door to his truck again. I could feel him staring at me, but I stayed quiet, looking out the window as he started driving.
“I know this is presumptuous, but I checked some of your clothing sizes when I stayed over one night,” he spoke softly, hesitantly. “I’ve got some stuff at my house already, in case anything ever happened or you stayed over,” he trailed off, sounding unsure at my continued silence.
I kept looking out the window, and nodded to signal that I’d at least heard him. This was just what I meant. He was taking care of me. I was getting soft and hadn’t even packed what I considered go bags, in this city. I always had stuff packed and ready to go if we needed to leave suddenly. I always had the important stuff ready to grab as we went out the door. I hadn’t done that. Here I was. Relying.
“That’s fine,” I said, keeping it short. He drove for a while before turning into a quaint two story house. It wasn’t huge, and wasn’t modern. It was obviously well taken care of, and more than I thought a single man like him would have. I glanced over with my eyebrow raised.
He turned the truck off, staring at the house, not at me. “This was the house I grew up in,” he explained, “My nana and I lived here. She raised me.”
I nodded. He’d explained his mom had run off, and his dad was in the military, leaving him with his grandma until they’d gotten notice he was killed in action.
“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, “It reminds me of my grandma’s place,” I added.
He looked over and smiled, “Shall we?”
I sighed, nodding, knowing that once we got inside I needed to have a conversation with him. I needed to start pushing, and backing away. Clark had always gotten away with things before and I didn’t have reason to think this would be any different. They couldn’t even find him. I needed to back away. I needed to pack and run. Natasha would be mad and hurt that we were leaving again for a while, but she’d have to understand. It was better now before things got further involved with everyone we’d met in this town. Lucas unlocked the front door and held it open as I walked by him. I heard it click as he shut and locked it.
I looked around where Lucas had grown up and had to smile slightly, imagining him as a little boy running around. I saw pictures scattered around of him and an older woman and man who had to be his grandparents. You could feel the love in this house.
I stopped where I stood in the living room, my back to a hallway that stretched out behind me, and faced him.
He looked at me and leaned back against the sofa, his hands resting behind him on top of it.
“Why don’t you go ahead and say whatever is on your mind, Rebecca?” he asked softly. He hadn’t turned any lights on. Just the light from the moon and street lights outside shone behind him, casting him in a shadow.
I crossed my arms around myself, feeling like I was going to shatter apart.
“This is just too much,” I blurted out.
“How do you mean?”
“It’s too much!” I repeated louder this time, snapping at him in my anxiety addled state. I could feel myself getting ready to lose it, “I feel like a burden. I thought we had finally outran Clark. I thought I’d finally found somewhere to settle. That’s the only reason we attempted to set down roots here,” I continued.
“That’s the only reason I allowed Nat to get attached to people and start extracurricular activities this time. It’s the only reason I started a friendship with Monica,” I added, “and let whatever this is continue.” I muttered under my breath.
“Whatever this is?” he asked softly.
I couldn’t shut it off. Now that the proverbial gates had been opened I was blurting out everything on my mind, every insecurity, every anxious-ridden thought that may or may not make sense to anyone but me. If this didn’t shove him right out the door, nothing would. No one wanted to deal with a woman like me.
Clark had been right.
“Listen,” I said, scrubbing my trembling hands over my face, “I’m too much. I know how to take care of myself, and my daughter,” I continued, “I’ve gotten too soft here. This isn’t how I need to be. Nat and I need to leave. Clark always got away with shit where we lived, before I got away from him. If he finds out Natasha is actually his…”
“Rebecca” interrupted Lucas. “This isn’t some small ass hick town in the middle of nowhere. There’s no “good-ole-boys'' system. We’ve got enough with your statements and now, evidence that we can build a case against him, and that scumbag Larry. He’s not going to get away with shit. They’re going to pay this time.``
I was shaking my head, already past the point of wanting to hear reason. My panic was escalating and I started to pace a short, jerky route back and forth.
“That may be the case, but still. No one needs to deal with this baggage,” I said. “I am used to being alone, doing things on my own. I don’t get emotional and I don’t let anything in, for these exact reasons.”
He stood up a little straighter, I still couldn’t make out the look on his face, the light from outside shining from behind him. I was so distraught I couldn’t pick up on the tension radiating off of him.
“What exactly are you saying, Rebecca?” he asked.
“I don’t think we should continue this,” I blurted out, even as it shattered my heart in my chest. “I shouldn’t have sucked more people into my chaos. Natasha even knows now and I have to worry about how it’s going to affect her in the long run,” I added, shaking my head at myself. “I have a daughter to worry about. I have responsibilities that come before my own feelings and wants.”
“What about what I want?” his voice was low.
“Lucas,” I said exasperated. “You don’t want this!” I practically yelled, gesturing with my hands to the space between us.
“Really?” He was practically whispering at this point and maybe that should’ve alerted something within me to stop while I was ahead. I was too used to a man striking out loudly, and with violence, his quiet anger and frustration weren’t registering to me in my own fight or flight mode.
“I have so much baggage and trauma I don’t even know how to be normal!” I ranted, continuing, “I hadn’t even ever been on a real date before you. I don’t even know if I am doing this right!” I was definitely yelling now, completely irrational at this point. “Who’s to say we’re even compatible?”
“Compatible?” He asked, completely caught off guard.
“Yes. Compatible. You haven’t even taken things further than messing around,” I continued, trying to grasp at something that proved he didn’t really want me.
“I wonder sometimes if you really want this, or me? If you’re even really attracted to me? I mean. I’m a bigger woman. Clark said I was absolutely shitty in bed. He blamed everything on me. You’re far more experienced and you haven’t even attempted to move past anything we’ve done.”
“Clark,” I heard him mutter.
“I mean…what if you took me to bed and it just fell apart after that?” I asked, “I can’t hinge a maybe-relationship on the off chance you may like a mediocre lay,” I added putting my hands on my forehead now.
“Medicore lay?” he asked. “Is that really what you think?”
He stood up, towering over me, and I finally clued in to some sort of anger radiating just below the surface of his skin. He was barely containing himself. I stepped back and he stepped forward towards me.
“You listen to me, Rebecca Wareman,” he growled, my back met the wall behind me, breath caught in my throat, “Clark doesn’t exist here,” he emphasized, stepping into my space, hands on either side of my head against the wall.
“What he is, or did, may have a pivotal part in how you feel or think about yourself, but not how I see or feel about you.”
His hand found my throat, low on my neck, like it always did. Not squeezing or cutting air off, just centering me in a way I’d come to crave.
“Lucas…” I whispered.
“I think you’ve said enough, Becks,” he said, “it's my turn.”
My eyes widened.
“You think I’m not continuing things because I don’t want you? I’m not attracted to you? Bullshit. I’ve been hard since the day you backed your ass into me in that fucking school office,” He ground out, “I wanted to bend you over, in front of everyone, and stake my claim on you.”
My breath caught in my throat. This man meant business, and I’d poked some sort of nerve that had him on the edge of losing control.
“You think I don’t want you?” He asked again, almost disbelieving. “You are not running or going anywhere, Rebecca,” he affirmed.
“You’re not allowed to make executive decisions by yourself about our relationship,” he continued.
I couldn’t even be mad at the authority in his voice, it was grounding me. His voice was flooring me in its conviction.
“You’re mine,” he said, his hand tightening slightly on my neck, “and I’m going to spend tonight ensuring that every time you move tomorrow, every time you walk or go to sit down, you feel where I’ve been inside you. I'm going to make sure you remember just how much I want you.”
His mouth crashed down on mine.