Chapter 26
Silas
We almost had to draw straws to see who got to go with Lucy to meet up with the deranged psychopath who's been harassing my family. Mateo wanted to go, but all three of us vetoed him out, knowing he'd probably just get pissed off, start threatening right off the bat, and maybe make shit worse.
Then it was between me and Noah, but my guy's too sweet. I love him with every breath, but his kindness and tendency toward diplomacy is a little too much like Lucy, and we don't need two of them at this meeting letting the girl talk her way out of trouble.
So, Lucy and I, hand in hand, follow her friend Portia down the street to the bar Delaney agreed to meet us at. Tension waves off of Lucy as we walk, but as time has passed over the last few weeks, she's seemed more stable, calmer. I'm not saying sex is solving her problems, though I'd love to take credit for it. But she's changing, finding ways to let out some of that stress—some of it through sex, yes—but in other ways too. She's more open about the little things, and she doesn't feel the need to perform in front of us like she did with Matty all those months.
He feels like shit knowing more about what she was putting herself through. Not that she did all that for him, a lot of her obsession with perfection had to do with her videos and online persona, but he never got a chance to meet just Lucy, not influencer Lucy. I think she's finally coming around, realizing how high those walls were, when we first came into each other's lives.
Portia slows in front of a bar with no sign, but with large windows and a warm yellow glow emanating from within. I reach ahead of the women and hold open the door, following after Lucy, placing a hand on her lower back, to remind her I'm here, and I've got her, though we don't keep holding hands.
I recognize Delaney instantly. She's the same woman who stopped me outside Lucy's apartment all those weeks ago. She's talking into the camera, chatting away loudly, not giving a shit that there are other people around her trying to enjoy the low-key quiet atmosphere. It seems like a high-end bar, I'm surprised the bartenders aren't giving her shit for it.
Lucy catches my withering stare and smirks. "We had a deal with the owners, they'd hook us up with drinks and we tagged the bar in exchange. Delaney just…"
Lucy shrugs, but Portia pulls no punches. "But Delaney is a user and doesn't give a shit that she's disrupting an entire bar full of people." Then she huffs and strides forward. "Come on, let's get this shit show over with."
Lucy snorts but follows her friend. When Delaney sees us approaching, she smiles wide, saying goodbye to the camera, then turning to face us as we climb into the seats.
"Oh my god, I can't believe you guys came! Lucy-bear, I've missed you so much!"
Lucy gapes at Delaney. I shake my head, not sure what to make of her. Is she actually delusional? Or is she a manipulative asshole?
"Dude, you are a toxic piece of—"
Lucy slaps a hand over Portia's mouth. "What she means is, are you outta your dang mind?" Lucy's accent comes in hard, and I can't help but smile at my girl, loving when she gets fired up, making that southern twang come out just a little bit sharper.
"Okay, fine. I deserve that," Delaney rolls her eyes. Okay, manipulative asshole, then. Good to know. "Look, you wouldn't talk to me, and I figured, we weren't friends anymore anyway. It's not a big deal."
"Are you shitting me? You accused me of being emotionally abusive! You said I stole from you and that I was toxic and manipulative which, news flash, is exactly what you're doing!"
Before we roll too far off the tracks, since we're also supposed to be figuring out why she's sending creepy ass pictures of Matty, I try to interrupt the girls but they're building toward something big.
"Okay, well, fuck you. God! Everything's so easy for you. I shit talked you, and you still have over two million followers! You have the perfect life. I just needed a little help. I'm so sorry I used you to do it."
"You can't use sarcasm in an apology!"
"I wasn't really apologizing!"
"Yeah, obviously."
"Okay, look, I am sorry I used you to do it. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. But, as usual, you're un-fucking-scathed. You drop into a bucket of shit and come out smelling like roses. I don't get it."
Lucy rubs her temples, takes a deep inhale, but we're interrupted by the server. Delaney still has a drink, so Portia orders a martini. Lucy gets the same, and I ask for a beer.
When the server walks away, the table feels quiet. I hate that Lucy's bummed. But if I was worried about how well she'd handle shit a month ago, today, I'm so damn proud. She's not spiraling. She's not stressing. She's just sad her friend sucks. And that's totally reasonable.
"Delaney. My life isn't easy. It's never been easy. But I know yours isn't either. Everyone struggles in their own way. I don't get why you're punishing me for when things work out for me. But it doesn't mean—"
"Things don't just work out for you, Lucy. Do you not see how things just magically fall into place around you? I posted that video about you being a toxic prick, and your numbers didn't budge. I mean, did you lose a single advertiser? No. Because everyone came down on me after Portia, Cara and Mary-Anne spoke out against me. They were my friends too! And they chose your side!"
Aaand, we're back to delusional.
"Excuse me, Delaney, but if you think I want to stay friends with someone who treats other people—friend or not—the way you've treated Lucy, you're out of your damn mind."
Delaney waves her off. "Whatever. My point is. As usual, Lucy came up smelling roses. So. I'm sorry, or whatever. I'll lay off. But if you're not going to take me back as a friend, what are we even doing here?"
"I want you to stop posting terrible things about me. I won't even get into how the only reason people are going against you right now is because you're bringing it all on yourself by acting this way. Just… leave me alone."
I'm pretty good at reading people. I've no idea if this bitch is gonna lay off. But for a moment—and it's brief, blink and you'd miss it—remorse clouds her expression. Remorse and maybe sadness. But it's gone just as fast.
She crosses her arms and in her husky voice, says, "Fine."
The server drops the drinks off then, and Portia and I waste no time glugging down big ass sips. Shit is tense.
I give Lucy a minute, but my girl steps up before I do, so I stay quiet, putting my hand on her thigh in silent support. "Okay, well, what about the pictures? Are you going to stop with those?"
"What pictures?"
"The ones of Mateo," Lucy grits.
"Oh. Well, those are online now, not much we can do about those. But you can't see his dick in them, and I already publicly admitted we didn't have an affair." Delaney's attention flits in and out as she waves at people across the bar, sipping her drink, acting none of this is that big a deal. It's so fucked up, this world she lives in, this sheath she's built around herself, like she's got a free pass to fuck around all she wants, who cares who gets hurt in the process.
I'm here to support Lucy, but also, fuck this bitch. Matty's twisted up over those pictures. "She's talking about the pictures you took and doctored with AI, the ones with his face and some fuck boi porn star's body."
Delaney narrows her eyes and shrugs. "Don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit. We've had three pictures delivered to the apartment of Mateo Torres being sexually exploited. He may not be thinking of that shit as assault, but it is, and I'm not gonna fucking put up with it."
Finally, Dleaney sits up straight. "Wait, what? I didn't do that! What the hell are you talking about?"
"You didn't send sexually explicit pictures of him?"
She bites her lip. "Okay, well, just the once. But his lawyer already showed up at my apartment and told me he'd sue me for every penny I had if I didn't take down the originals of me and him, and apologize." Then her eyes water and she turns to Lucy. "Lucy-Bear, I swear, those were the only pictures I took! And I apologized immediately. But you know how the internet works, there's no way I can take those pictures back. Besides, I'm not even the one who first shared them! So he can't sue me for shit."
Then she crosses her arms petulantly and leans back, daring us to push her. We do.
"So there just happen to be two of you out there, tormenting me and my family?"
"Yes!"
Lucy throws her hands up in the air, exasperated. Delaney continues, "Look, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry I was a dick about the online shit, but I don't know anything about any pictures. I swear. Maybe it was the same person who sent me the ones they made of me and Mateo, OMGspeaktome was her handle. Remember? I told you about her."
"And OMGspeaktome isn't you?"
"No! Look, I may be a dick—" Portia snorts into her glass at Delaney's declaration, but she just growls at her ex-friends and continues, "but, I'm not an idiot. Mateo's like, a millionaire, I'm not about to fuck around with getting sued by him. He's hot but he's not like, that hot, you know?"
Lucy's back to rubbing her temples. We really haven't got anywhere. Maybe Mateo should have come, afterall.
Delaney picks up her drink and downs the remaining contents, then comes to a stand. She wobbles a little and I wonder how long she's been here drinking before we showed up. "I'll stop making live videos about you. But I'll keep it up if he even thinks about suing me. I didn't make any more pictures."
She leaves in a whirlwind of patchouli and vodka. Portia and Lucy talk through the aftermath for a few minutes before she says she's got a date, leaving me and Lucy alone at the table.
"Want another?"
She shakes her head, so I throw some cash on the table and we walk out. We make it three blocks, not realizing we're walking in the opposite direction from our apartment. I nudge her shoulder.
"Hey, you need to get back for anything?"
She shakes her head, "No, why?"
"Come on, I want to take you somewhere." Holding her hand, we walk down the sidewalk in comfortable silence. Lucy drops cash and loose change in a guy's guitar case as he serenades the busy street. I buy a hot dog from a street vendor. At first I was just going to eat it with a little ketchup and mustard, but Lucy's giving me that look where she's biting her tongue, to suggest we get something healthy like grilled chicken or turkey, so just to fuck with her, I add chili and cheese and onions. She's miming gagging as I wolf the whole thing down, leaving her laughing in a fit of tears.
"Oh my god, I'm never kissing that mouth," she teases.
"Oh, Lucy, baby, you are gonna fucking get it now," I growl, wrapping my hand around the back of her head, kissing her hard.
She shrieks and laughs, but kisses me back, making a point to wipe her tongue after I release her.
We wander toward the waterfront, where a small outdoor amusement park sits permanently at the edge of downtown, separating the waterfront district where Atrium is, to the midtown area, close to Sunrise Park, where Lucy likes to run. I buy her a cherry slushy and get tickets for the teacup ride.
If I were Noah, I'd do something slower and sweet and romantic, like the ferris wheel. Maybe he and I will come down here some night soon, before they close up for the winter.
But I'm not Noah. I'm not slow or sweet. I am romantic though, and when I finally convince Lucy to climb into the giant teacup, I get her to sit between my legs so she can clutch her drink, and I grip the metal bar and when the ride starts, I swing us around like a maniac.
Lucy's free and loose with her laughter, it echoes out into the night air. The ride ends too soon, and on shaky legs, we climb off, but not before I swat her ass because it looks so good in those jeans.
I don't give a shit if Lucy wears baggy workout shorts or leggings and a sweatshirt every single day, like she did those first few weeks when I met her. But I learned how far she'd fallen from her persona, and it reconciled my confusion when I noticed how different she looked in person from her videos.
I'm grateful to her friend Portia, because whatever she said to her to get her to do her hair or whatever to make it look nice, it made a difference, and Lucy started putting in effort again, which made her feel more confident. Another step forward, change that made her more stable. She could let her roots grow out, shave her head, get a million extensions. I don't care. I love her however she looks, but seeing her relaxed, stable and happy means the fucking world.
But I really love her in these jeans.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pull her close while we walk, making our way back out of the mini amusement park. "I love you, Lucy. I think I've been falling since we met." I say it casually, but her steps falter before she keeps walking, leaning closer against my chest.
"I love you too, Silas." Then she stops in front of me, making me look down into her bright blue eyes. Her brows are straight with almost no arch and downturn slightly, making her always look just a tiny bit sad. Even when she's jubilant and vibrant, chatting into the camera, it gives her so much depth.
"I feel like you woke me up, Silas. All three of you. You know how much I love Mateo, but being with Noah, being with you… you've filled this emptiness inside me. I feel you, in here," she taps her hand against her heart, "everyday. You're a part of me now. I don't ever want to let you go."
"You don't have to," I whisper against her temple, before pulling back. She's fucking stunning. So beautiful. "I want to paint you."
She grins, biting her lip. "I'd be honored. Your portrait work is… like, incomprehensibly good."
We keep walking and I laugh, "Wait, was that a backhanded compliment?"
She trips over her steps, coughing. "No! Oh my goodness, it sounded like one, didn't it? Dang, no, I didn't mean it like that. I just mean, you're like, inhuman. You see something for two seconds then you can just sketch it from memory, and it's like a photograph. It's beyond impressive."
"Well, in that case, thank you. Compliment accepted."
Lucy shakes her head, laughing. "All three of you are impressive. I'm kinda surprised Delaney's zeroed in on Mateo with those pictures, considering she's got shots of all your faces."
My feet stop abruptly. "Wait, what do you mean?"
She turns to face me. "The… you know… pictures? Of you? And Noah?" Her eyes widen, while mine narrow. Fidgeting in place, she looks appropriately uncomfortable. "Hah. Okay, so this is bad. I thought I told you. Shit, why did I forget? You know what! This is totally your fault, y'all are the ones who pulled out that spreader bar and emptied my brain. So, when you think about it…" She shrugs, blushing bright red, chewing on her lip, but won't meet my eyes. "It's really more your fault I forgot."
"Lulu… what pictures."
She huffs, then pulls out her phone and hands it over. I scroll through several candids of me, Noah and Mateo, all alone or together, many of us holding hands with or hugging Lucy. When I scroll to the top, I recognize one of the pictures. Further up, I see the ones that started all this, the ones with Mateo and Delaney.
"That lying bitch."
"What?" She asks, looking over my shoulder at the pictures she's already seen.
"This one," I point to the shot of me in front of the apartment. I've got my skateboard with me, and I'm looking back at the camera with a furrowed brow. "Delaney definitely took this. Remember when I told you I'd seen her in front of your place? I thought she was taking my picture. This is that picture. She took this."
"What a lying bitch!"
I chuckle, closing the phone, handing it over. "Don't delete those. Matty hasn't got any creepy naked pictures of himself since that last one and Delaney sounded pretty freaked out about getting sued in there. Hopefully that's enough to scare her into leaving you—us—alone."
We keep walking toward the apartment, and I tease Lucy for getting come-drunk and forgetting to tell us something pretty monumental—that we're potentially all being stalked, not just Matty. But watching her blush in embarrassment is payment enough.
When we get home, Matty's still at the office so we cuddle up on the couch with Noah between us. We call Matty on speaker and tell him about the meeting and the pictures. Matty was, as predicted, pissed Lucy didn't tell us about them, but she believes her reason for forgetting was valid, and Noah and I back her up.
It's all very adorable and Leave It To Beaver. We're just a wholesome group of four lovers who like to tease and kiss and cuddle.
Noah falls asleep on my shoulder, with Lucy's head in his lap, late into the night since we stayed up watching a movie, all hoping to catch Matty before going to bed. Noah smells like clean laundry and something masculine, an undercurrent of his woodsy body wash blending with whatever is uniquely him.
I arrange him so his head falls down into my lap, and I scratch my fingertips into his scalp while he falls deeper into sleep. My Lucy and Noah, cuddled together in my arms. My heart pinches, it almost hurts with how much I love them.
I wake to Matty picking Lucy up off the couch. He's kind enough to wake me, too, gently tapping my shoulder. I'd carry Noah, but the fucker's too heavy. Instead, I kiss him, and even in his half-dreaming state, he smiles against my lips and kisses me back, then follows me to bed.