12. Luc
12
LUC
DOING WHAT IS RIGHT… EVEN IF IT’S WRONG
K ari: Why haven’t I seen you since Thursday, Luca?
Kari: It’s been days! And it’s not like we haven’t been in the same space.
Kari: I saw you walk out the back door when I arrived at the Turners’ yesterday, Luc! You got on your bike and left because I arrived.
Kari: Luca fucking Lenaghan! You’re a coward.
“You keep staring at your phone like that,” Mitch mumbles, kneeling in the back of our ambulance and counting supplies while we have a quiet moment on shift, “and the glass might shatter.”
“Leave me alone.” I sit on the bucket seat bolted into the back, my knees higher than my hips and my elbows perched on top. “I’m approaching a mid-life crisis, Rosa. I need a minute to deal with it in silence.”
“You’re hardly mid-life.” He shoves fresh gauze into the tub secured to the side of the bus and makes a note in his book. “And you’re normally a pretty fuckin’ chill dude. Annoyingly so,” he grumbles. Because he, too, has a baby sister and childhood trauma. It’s like I attract the same kind of friends. “So whatever this is, it’s kinda big, huh? It’s got you twisted up.”
“It’s kinda private.” I nibble on my bottom lip and groan when another text pops through.
Kari: I know you’re reading these messages, jackass. You have read receipts on.
Then another: You’re avoiding me, and that’s not cool. You’re hurting my feelings, and you promised you wouldn’t be that guy. I’m leaving tomorrow, Luc! You know my plans, and you’re going out of your way to not be where I am. That makes you an asshole.
“I wanna ask if you have girl problems,” Mitch wonders. “But you’re Luc Lenaghan. The only girl problem you have is how many you want in your bed at one time.”
He speaks with humor. A lighthearted jab. But his words are a direct fucking shot to my stomach. Because he’s not entirely wrong. I have a certain reputation around town for being slightly… friendly with the female variety. They were my attempts to focus on something else. Anything else. They have always, and only, been a distraction from an addiction I wasn’t allowed to explore.
But now my Kari-flavored cocaine is knocking on my door. Blowing up my phone. She’s offering herself to me freely. And I’m terrified that if I try just once, if I claim her as my own, we won’t ever come back from that.
If I claim her, then she won’t get to see the world. She won’t get to explore kissing other men. She won’t get to experience sex except with me. And if that’s the case, then she won’t have lived a life where even for a minute, a single second, she didn’t belong to someone .
She was Marc’s, and then she would be mine. And it’s taking all of my fucking willpower to let her go.
Once we’ve crossed the line and I’ve had all of her, there’s no changing my mind.
So yeah, I’m ignoring you, Kari! I’m avoiding you! I’m tearing my fucking soul out every time we’re near and I force myself to walk away.
“I can’t talk about my girl problems unless they remain completely private.” I lower my phone, lock the screen, and glance up, meeting Mitch’s light eyes. “Like, take it to the grave kind of private. There’s no room for fucking around on this one, Mitch. It’s a big fuckin’ deal.”
“Okay, well…” Frowning, he remains crouched, but lowers his pen and gives me all of his attention. “I can keep a secret.”
“Even if it flies in the face of what you consider right?”
A single, questioning brow shoots high on his forehead. “Did you kill someone? Hurt someone? Fuck someone without their permission?”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Rob a bank? Commit a crime?”
“No. Jesus. Fuck someone without their permission ? Who the hell do you think you’re working with?”
“Just checking.” He casts a fast glance out the back of the open ambulance to ensure we’re alone, then he drops to his ass and takes a break from work. “When you say I consider it right or wrong, and you’re not talking about the law… what do you mean?”
“I mean… you’re an overprotective older brother of someone you think needs your constant and unwavering attention and protection.”
Abigail Rosa. The town’s sweetest, smallest, loveliest cancer survivor ever.
Of course, bringing her up tweaks Mitch’s temper. “What about her?”
“Not about her.” I drop my face into my hands. “But you’re the type to take the side of the protective brother.”
“And you’re having girl problems with… someone’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“Not my sister?”
“No! Fuck.” I release a pent-up breath of frustration. “This has nothing to do with Abby. But yes, I’m having a moral dilemma surrounding someone’s sister. She’s…” I consider for a beat. Wrack my brain for the appropriate description without giving myself away. This town is small, and sisters aren’t in massive supply. “She’s protected. By someone I’m very close with.”
“You’re messing around with your friend’s sister.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Makes you an asshole.”
“Makes this conversation over.” I push up to stand but remain hunched under the low roof. “Forget it. I’ll go somewhere else and?—”
“Wait.” He grabs the pocket on the side of my pants before I can pass, yanking me to a hard stop so I almost overbalance and pitch straight onto the concrete bay outside the double doors. I grab the walls of the bus before I fall and glance down with a snarl when he chuckles. “That was my bad. Automatic reaction.” He releases me, but he looks up, burning me with a stare that has me pausing. “Sit down. Talk it out.”
“You’re not an unbiased audience.”
“I’m shedding a lifetime of hard training here, Lenaghan. It’s like discussing racism or genocide, and you’re Hitler. You’re asking me to set my own emotions aside for a second to remain unbiased. And, by the way, you’re still an asshole.”
“This is gonna be a fuckin’ disaster.” I bring a hand up and scrub it over my face. A long, pained grunt rolls along my throat and out to echo within our limited space. But I back up, tugging my pants from his grasp and sitting so the seat bolted to the wall groans. “I’m gonna regret this.”
“Perhaps.” He sits back, lazy as a lizard in the sun, and grins. “So you’re scamming on someone’s sister?”
“That’s such a lovely, impartial question to ask. ”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “You have wonderful, beautiful, completely honorable thoughts and feelings about a woman. And this woman just so happens to have a brother. This brother is someone you’re fond of.”
“Yes.”
“Dick,” he sniggers. “So what’s your problem? She doesn’t want you back?”
“She does. She’s quite eager, actually, for the idea of something happening between us.”
“And the friend?”
“Has no clue. If he did, I’d expect to have my face rearranged, and my brains smeared on the wall.”
“Sounds like the kind of guy I could be friends with,” he teases. “You’re sneaking around with her behind his back?”
“Sorta.” I shrug. “Not completely. We’ve made out a couple times, and it seems she wants more. But my friend matters to me. And her age and life experience matters.”
“She’s young?” His brow slowly comes up. I’m not sure he even realizes. “Too young?”
“She’s a legal adult. But yes, she’s young. And similarly to Abby, she’s spent a lifetime inside a bubble her brother guards. She has no clue what dating other people would be like. She hasn’t kissed anyone else. She hasn’t had sex with me or anyone else. She doesn’t know the things the world is offering, but she thinks being with me is what she wants.”
“And you don’t feel the same?”
“Of course I do! She’s my end game. But not yet. Not now when she doesn’t know what the other options are. If a starving man walks into the room and there’s a can of beans on the table, he’s gonna eat the beans and be thankful for them. But if he walks into a room filled to the brim with a selection of steak, dessert, pasta, and pizza. All the good things. Then he gets to pick and choose. Maybe there are beans at the buffet too. But who the fuck wants beans where there’s a steak sitting right there?”
“So… you’re the beans?”
“No! I’m the steak, I hope. But she can’t know what I am if she’s not out experiencing the rest.”
He draws a long, noisy breath until his lungs fill and his chest expands, then releases it again with a quick nod. “Alright. So… we’re working with food analogies. You have this woman who you consider end game, which implies this shit is serious. Perhaps, even love.”
He peers across and waits for my nod of acknowledgement .
“And in honor of this love, you want her to… sample other plates? Are you fucking crazy?”
“I want her to know there are other plates out there. I want the other plates to tempt her. I want her to know these other plates want her, too. And then when she’s seen it all and she knows her options, then I want her to choose me.”
“An ego boost?” he challenges. “You want to know you’re the best?”
“No.” I drop my head and jam my thumbs against my eyelids. “I just don’t want to be the beans she’s forced to appreciate. She’s worth so much more, Mitch.” I peel my thumbs away and wait for the stars to clear from my vision. “She’s everyone’s end game. And I want her to be confident knowing that. I want her to know I want her, too. She’s not my beans. She’s my steak. But if she doesn’t leave this town and experience men outside of me, how can she know what she is?”
“You’re twisting yourself up over this.” He tosses his notebook and scratches his stubbled chin. “Believe it or not, but I’m following you. You love her, you want her. But she’s quality, grass fed steak, and you want her confidence to be built up before you claim her for yourself.”
“Yes. Mostly.” I shake my head. “Sure. Whatever.”
“You want her to know this is a choice you both make, and not a ‘ well, that person will do ’ kind of thing. Have you considered the consequences that may come if she explores the world and finds steak somewhere else?”
“Yes.” My stomach rebels at the thought. My heart aches at the threat. “And if that was to happen, then I would need to find understanding. Whatever is best for her, is best for us.”
“Jesus.” He scoffs, the sound mocking me from the back of his throat. “Magnanimous of you, Lenaghan. So if she finds her steak elsewhere, you’re just gonna go to her wedding? Cool as a cucumber? You’re okay with that?”
“As long as she’s happy,” I bite out. “She has the right to choose, Mitch. And if I claim her as mine now, she’s too loyal to sneak off and look at the other plates in the meantime. This is a risk I have to take. For her own well-being.”
“Selfless of you,” he breathes, puffing his cheeks and widening his eyes. “As the brother of a protected woman, I suppose I can respect that.”
“Great.” I crush my eyes closed. “So that’s my dilemma. She’s heading out of town soon, and although she can come back regularly, she’ll technically have four years to… explore.”
“But she wants a commitment from you? ”
“Kinda.” I drop my hands and shrug. “She’s calling me a coward because I’m avoiding her as much as I can.”
“Out of loyalty to her future and to your friend?”
“Basically. If I see her before she goes, I’m gonna fuck everything up. Either I’ll chicken out on the sampler thing and demand she be mine. Short-term gain. Or I’ll hurt her feelings and screw everything up. Long-term loss.”
“And you think ignoring her is the best solution to this?”
“What the fuck other solution do you have?”
“Luca?” Marcus’ voice echoes throughout the garage we’re parked in. His boots thumping against the concrete floor. Color drains from my face— I feel it —and in response, Mitch’s brow shoots up in question.
He glances over his shoulder and grins when Marc stops outside the bus.
“Oh, hey Mitch.” Marc extends his hand and shakes when Mitch reciprocates. “How’s it going?”
“Aww, ya know. Drama, drama, drama.” He chuckles, pulling back and picking up his notebook. “You need an ambulance, or…?”
“No.” Marc’s eyes jump to mine. “We’re grabbing pizza at my place tonight. It’s Kari’s sendoff.”
“Yeah?” My throat aches as that single, painful word rolls along it. “That’s cool.”
“She’s invited all the family. But she mentioned getting RSVPs from everyone except you. She was gonna head down here on her way home, but I was already near, so I told her I’d drop in.”
“I probably can’t come,” I rasp. “Mitch and I are on shift. So?—”
“We’re off at six,” Mitch, oh-so-fucking helpfully, adds. Fuck him. Fuck his sister. I hope whoever she falls in love with fucks him up. “I’ll make sure we’re clear on the dot.”
“Dude—”
“Excellent.” Marc claps his knuckles on the shell of the rig and turns away. “I’ll see you there then. I’ve still got a few errands to run before everyone arrives.”
“You’re a dog.” I shove up from my seat and slam my palm to the side of Mitchell’s face as I pass. “I hope your sister falls in love with your worst enemy.”
“He’s your best friend, bro! Why wouldn’t you go to your best friend’s younger sister’s farewell dinner?” He turns at the back of the bus as I step to the concrete. “Make it make sense, Lenaghan!”
“I’m gonna drive our bus straight off Lookout Hill.” I spy Marc climbing into his truck on the street, then I look back at my partner and sneer. “You brought this on yourself.”
“This is karma,” he quips. “For scamming on your friend’s little sister.” He picks up his pen and chuckles, making notes in his book again. “Dick.”
K ane pulls up a chair to my dining room table, his chest bouncing with the knowledge of Mitchell’s sister’s current husband.
Not only did Abigail Rosa marry up.
But she married one of the baddest dudes around.
“Pretty sure that’s called karma,” he snickers. “He screwed you over. Now Spence?—”
“Screws her. Yep, I got it. Mitch learned his lesson and never works a shift now without complaining about it.”
His shoulders bounce, and under the dim lighting, his eyes shadow and almost look bruised and dangerous. But his lips curl into a smirk, playful and taunting. “So we know you and Kari end up together. We even know you screw, at least once. Considering the crotch trophy you’re currently snuggling. So you went to that farewell dinner and claimed her as yours?”
I scoff and look down at my crotch trophy . “I went to dinner. But I achieved nothing positive while there.”