Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LUCAS
He had a date. He was going on a date. He, Lucas, was going to be picked up and taken out in public and maybe even kissed at his doorstep. He’d probably also get railed later that night because he was most definitely going to invite Frankie in when they were done.
But this felt important.
It felt like a big step. And Frankie had all but said that he wanted this to be more than just two guys living near each other who had sex at night after all their responsibilities had been put to bed. Lucas couldn’t lie and say he didn’t want it, but he was still scared.
Change was hard, no matter how good it could be. And he knew that as much as Frankie went out of his way to understand what Lucas’s life was like—for real, not just stumbling around in the dark for a few minutes—he would never get the level of trust Lucas was forced to put in other people.
He would never understand the quiet fear he lived in, even with the people he did trust the most. Or how exhausting that all was.
He’d built himself a careful bubble of people he knew wouldn’t betray him, even if they thought it was for his own good.
Did he have the energy to expand that? He knew that Frankie’s brother had made gestures and faces, knowing Lucas couldn’t see it.
He was well versed in being able to tell when someone was mouthing something they didn’t want him to know.
Sighted people were often unaware of the little sounds they made because they faded into the background while they were watching things.
But Lucas heard them all.
He had no idea if Frankie had corrected his brother, or if he even understood how fucked that was.
And yet, every time he waffled toward the line of not wanting to be with Frankie, he felt a deep, dark, ugly pit in his stomach. It was the worst grief and loss, and it wasn’t even real. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to go forward, but he damn well knew he didn’t want to let go.
“Hello? Are you, like, deaf or something?”
“That’s a really shitty thing to say,” Lucas said, leaning on the counter next to his register. “What if I were deaf?”
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, five minutes.”
That was absolutely not possible. Lucas was in his head, but not for that long. “Okay?”
“I was waving right in your face.”
He burst into laughter. “If I was deaf, I would have seen that. But I’m not. I’m blind.”
“Oh my god. Like…for real?”
He flicked his prosthetics, and he heard her recoil and suck in a breath. “Gross.”
Something ugly twisted in his stomach. “Okay, well. If that’s all—”
“How do you even drive this thing?”
“I have a super-long cane,” he said. He was done with bullshit. He still had half an hour to go before he could close up, but he was ready now. “I stick it out the window. The cops go easy on me when I run people over because, you know, I’m disabled.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Of course I am,” he said flatly. “You know the ADA, right? The disabilities act prevents discrimination. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to drive. And frankly, if people don’t want to get hit by blind drivers, they shouldn’t be on the sidewalks.”
“That is so fucked-up!”
Lucas snorted. “What’s fucked-up is that you believe me.”
“I…what?”
“I don’t fucking drive. I can’t see. I have no eyes. And blind or not, I would be in jail if I did drive and I ran people over. I just stand here and cook food, okay? So do you want something, or—”
“How do you know when it’s done if you can’t see it?”
“I take a giant bite out of it, and if it tastes done, I serve it.”
She was quiet again. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Am I?”
The pause was longer this time. “Do you have anything that, like, you don’t have to cook? Like chips or something?”
He had a whole box of chips. “Nope. Have a nice day.”
“I see Doritos right there!”
“Where?”
“Right…oh. Um.”
He groped around, making a big show out of putting his hands on everything. He found the Doritos and sniffed the bag. “Smells like Doritos package.” He licked it. “Yeah. This is them. That’ll be two-fifty.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. Have a nice day.” He tossed them to the side and reached up for the rolling shade for the window when he heard someone laughing. His heart leapt into his throat as he froze and leaned out the window further. “An audience? Really?”
“That was quite the show.” The voice was a low rumble that he recognized, and he really, really wanted to punch the guy. He’d only heard him once, but his voice was seared into Lucas’s brain for good.
“What the literal, actual fuck are you doing here?”
“You recognize me? Are you really blind?”
Lucas had been asked that four times today, and he’d reached his limit. Digging his thumbnails right under his lower eyelid, he popped his eyes out and slammed them on the counter. “Do you want to see inside the sockets, or—”
“No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Lucas felt a bitter laugh creep up into his chest. “You don’t want to offend me, but you have no problem being an abusive piece of shit who—”
“Whoa. Listen, you have the wrong idea about me, okay? Fallon is a liar.”
Lucas almost choked on his own tongue. “Really?”
“Yes. And the truth is, I know.”
Lucas had started to reach for the rolling shade again, and he froze. “Know what?”
“About you two.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Oh? What do you think you know?”
He heard footsteps approaching. Charlie—if he was remembering right—was approaching in the way people did when they were trying to sneak up on him. But it was yet another case of people who had no idea of the small sounds they made.
He turned his head just slightly to the right as Charlie came to a stop. He was maybe two or three feet away. But Lucas could be wrong about that distance.
“I think that I know he’s been cheating on me with you. I’ve seen you go over to his brother’s place a bunch of times when he’s there.”
“Stalking is so not cute. You know that, right?” Lucas said.
Charlie sighed. “He won’t talk to me. I wanted to let him know that I forgive him. That all he has to do is say sorry, and we can go back to the way things were.”
“That is maybe the saddest thing I have heard all week. And people have said some horrible shit to me today,” Lucas sighed. “I think I—”
The rest of his words were cut off when a hand curled into his front. He wasn’t expecting it and was entirely thrown off. And then there was pain. Two blows to the face, right below his left eye socket, before he managed to shove Charlie off him.
He was shaking so hard he could barely get his hands to work, but he managed to reach up and pull the metal shade down just as something—probably Charlie’s fist—hit the side of the truck. He scrambled backward, then dove for the door and managed to flick the lock before falling onto his ass.
Charlie continued to scream and hit the truck as Lucas tried to calm down and remember where his phone was. His head was a mess, and if Charlie managed to get in, Lucas knew he wasn’t going to be able to properly defend himself.
He could fight. His dad had made sure of that. But this guy sounded unhinged.
The sounds died down after a beat, and Lucas crawled onto his hands and knees, his fingers searching the little cubby under the counter until he found his phone. He was still shaking when he pulled up the screen and hesitated before telling it to call his dad.
“Hey, bud. I’m just getting ready to walk into a patient office, but—”
“Open this fucking door! I’m going to fucking kill you, you little bitch! You think you and your friend can steal my partner and fucking embarrass me like that?”
“Lucas,” Bronx said, his voice dark. “Where are you?”
“Um. I’m, umm…” Fuck, he couldn’t remember. The truck was shaking again. He could hear a voice nearby, like someone talking on the phone. It wasn’t Charlie. He took a deep, calming breath. “I’m over by the Children’s Museum.”
“I’m walking there now.” He didn’t sound like he was walking. He sounded like he was sprinting.
That’s right. His dad’s vet office was right around the corner. He wanted to cry. “Should I call the cops?” Charlie’s voice was gone now, and the truck was silent. Then Lucas could hear distantly that someone was giving a description of him. “Though I think someone already did.”
“Are you hurt?” Bronx sounded out of breath now.
“I got punched. Um.” Lucas felt his throat go tight. “I think he got me twice, but I shoved him off and locked the truck up.”
“Good. That was good. I see you. There’s a woman a few feet away from the truck, and yeah, I think she’s talking to 9-1-1.”
“Do you see anyone else?”
“Just her, kiddo. I’m a few feet away. Open the door, okay?”
Lucas dropped his phone without hanging up and made his way to the back door. He counted to six, then flipped the lock and pulled the door open. His dad was on him in seconds, backing him up and cupping his face, tilting his head from side to side.
“He got you good.”
Lucas nodded, then burst into tears as the pain and fear and anxiety and panic hit him all at once. Bronx’s arms were around him in an instant, and it was in that quiet comfort that only a parent could give, Lucas managed to breathe easy.
Bronx insisted he go get a scan to make sure nothing was broken. The cops took a report, but they were vaguely condescending, considering that Lucas couldn’t give a visual description.
“I recognized his voice,” he told them. “He’s my neighbor’s brother’s ex-boyfriend. My friend and I caught him abusing his ex in the hallway in my apartment building.”
“Is your friend blind too?” the cop asked.
He could feel his dad’s tension, but Lucas squeezed his hand as he shook his head. “No. And he’s the fire chief’s son, so you cannot get nasty with me like I can’t somehow identify the guy who has now attacked two people.”
The cop shut up after that. He took Lucas’s information, and then Lucas gave him Frankie’s number because if anyone could get them to Charlie, it was him.