Chapter 4 ~ #2
"Oh, Luc." I open my arms and he curls into me. His shoulders shake as he silently sobs. Ignoring my protesting ribs and the agony that hits me, I lift my arm to stroke his hair.
They're heartwretching, painful to listen to, sobs that have me breaking. I hold him tightly, letting him get out all his pain. His hands grip my shirt and I feel them shake against my back.
I run my fingers through his hair and he buries his face into my shirt, silently crying.
I rub a gentle hand up and down his back. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold him as tight as he's holding me.
You just met him, a logical part of my brain says. My heart tells it to shut up.
My nails accidentally scratch the back of his neck where I'd been running my fingers through his hair and he shudders in my arms. Oops.
Luc takes a deep breath and exhales.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice deep and slightly muffled. “I don’t—fuck, I don’t normally break down like this.” He seems truly shocked and…a little bit afraid.
"It’s okay," I whisper. He takes a few more steady breaths before he pulls back. I drop my hands to my lap. He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed. Luc opens his mouth to say something then hesitates. Something guarded comes over his face and I feel him pull away without having moved.
"It's okay," I tell him. "You don't have to tell me."
He nods slightly. I put my hand on his knee and his hand grips mine.
"I guess my grandmother got her wish." He gives me a lopsided smile. "I did meet her Butterfly."
. . .
Luc helps me into the kitchen. I sit down on one of the wooden stools at the island counter.
"Can I get you anything?" He asks, his back to me.
"Got any drugs?" I joke but Luc's head whips around, horrified. His chest heaves as he sucks in a breath. "I'm kidding!" I rush out. His relief is evident as he sighs heavily. What happened for him to think I was being serious?
He mutters something to himself and shakes his head as he searches the cupboard for something.
He pulls out a box of ibuprofen and pops two from the packet. Luc hands them to me and fills up a glass of water. He slides the box into his pocket.
I've never been good at swallowing tablets but eventually, I get them down.
Luc gets a carton of eggs out of the fridge and turns on the stove.
"You hungry?" He smiles, waiting for the pan to heat up.
I hesitate but he gives me a reassuring look and I nod. He seems almost proud.
Luc goes to crack an egg before setting it down on the bench. He rummages around the fridge and gets a packet of bacon.
We chat while he cooks breakfast and I wash the blood from my hand in the sink, cringing. I must look like a mess.
"Where are your friends?" I ask, sitting back at the counter.
"School but one of them won't be back till tomorrow. He went home to get some of our stuff." I nod. Luc smiles, reassuringly. "Don't worry about them, Butterfly. They'll love you, I know they will." He flicks the kettle on. "Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?"
"Tea, please."
Luc busies himself making our drinks. "It might take them a bit to get used to having a girl in the house. They can be a bit…much."
Something tells me I already have some idea.
He hands me a cup and I murmur my thanks, fiddling with the tea bag string.
He leans his forearms on the bench, his cup in his hands. "I want you to feel at home here, Butterfly. You can tell me if you need anything," he says softly.
"Thank you, Luc. For everything," I tell him. He puts a hand on my arm for a brief moment before he gets back to cooking.
Something dawns on me. "Shit. I'm supposed to be at school." I look at the clock on the wall and realise it's almost lunchtime. Well damn.
Luc chuckles as he slides our bacon and eggs on two plates. He sits mine down in front of me.
"I think it's okay to miss one day," he tells me, humour in his dry tone.
I slap his shoulder playfully and immediately regret it when it pulls on my ribs. I groan and rest my hand where it's sore.
Luc steps towards me, concerned but doesn’t make a move to touch me. "Do you mind if my friend has a look later? He's got EMT training. He's super smart."
"Yeah," I nod, slowly, "that's fine. I think only one's broken, the rest are just bruised."
Luc nods, a dangerous, protective look in his eyes. Oddly, it doesn’t make me nervous or scared. Honestly, that look reminds me of Drake.
Regardless, I ignore it and start eating. It doesn't take long until it's gone. I haven't had a home-cooked meal in a long time, at least one I haven’t cooked.
"Can I get you anything else?" Luc asks, taking my plate before I can object. I walk around to where he's standing.
"You can let me help you clean up. I'm perfectly capable of putting my plate in the dishwasher." I roll my eyes.
"My grandmother would skin me alive if I let her Butterfly clean up," he reasons.
"Your grandmother is a strong, independent woman who doesn’t let anyone do anything for her,” I shoot back.
I tug the plates from his hand and put them in the dishwasher. I have to hold back a groan when I’m reminded of my ribs.
He gives me a knowing look when I slowly straighten and I stick my tongue out at him.
"Be careful, Butterfly," he murmurs, heat in his gaze. "I can think of a couple of uses for that."
By the time I've controlled myself, he's turned away, humming as he goes.
"You're dangerous," I tell him.
Luc grins. "It would be rather odd if I wasn't." His smile widens at my confused look.
"My name's Luc Beckham," he tells me. I give him the 'duh I know that' look. "As in Lucifer."
My mouth drops open. "Oh. Ohhhh." That…makes sense. Who names their kid Lucifer?
I put the carton of eggs back in the fridge while he wipes down the benches. He smiles to himself as he does.
"You're not one of those people who like cleaning, are you?" People who enjoy cleaning make me concerned that they’re cultivating their skills for one day cleaning up more nefarious things than food on benches.
Luc looks over at me like I've grown a second head. "What?"
"You're smiling. While you clean," I inform him.
He chuckles. "Nah. Just thinking about what the guy's reaction to you will be. It'll be hilarious."
I hesitate before asking, "Will they be okay that I'm here?"
Luc stops what he's doing and walks over. He puts his hands on my shoulders and I tilt my head up to look at him.
"Rory, I asked you to stay here. My grandmother's asked you to stay here.
You've chosen to stay here." I open my mouth to interrupt but he gives me a look that has me swallowing my words.
"The guys will be fine. Some of them may take a bit to warm up to you because of a few things that have happened lately but they will never make you feel uncomfortable or like you don't belong.
" Luc squeezes my shoulders gently and I slowly nod.
"Okay, Luci."
"Wait. What?" Luc raises one eyebrow.
"You just told me your name was Lucifer. What do you expect me to do?" I grin as he groans.
"But that's a girl's name!" He whines, pouting.
Fuuuck, that pout does wicked things to me. I attempt to shake it off.
"Now it's your nickname," I tell him.
He sighs dramatically and leans down to reach my shoulder. "You're going to be the death of me, Butterfly. I already know it." He growls playfully, sending heat through me and I shiver.
"Okay, Luci," I tease. When he doesn't move, I tap his shoulder.
"You're not falling asleep, are you? I won't grab you if you fall."
He jerks up and blinks several times. "No," he yawns, "I'm awake."
"Riiight," I draw out. "I'm fine if you want to have a nap or something," I assure him.
Luc sighs like sleeping is a chore. "Yeah. Why don't you try to have a sleep yourself?"
I nod. If that will help him see I'm okay, then I can do that.
"Do you mind if I have a shower first?" I ask hesitantly. "I passed out without washing the blood out of my hair last night."
Luc gets a dark look on his face before he clears his throat and it dissolves. "Yeah, of course. I'll get you a towel." As we're passing my room, I grab some clothes from my bag. Luc frowns. "Is that all you have?"
I shrug. "There's a few things in my car but a lot of my stuff's at the house."
Luc looks saddened by this. "I'll have one of the guys pick some stuff up for you." He looks at the sizes on the shirt and jeans I'm holding.
I go to refuse. "Luc–"
"Rory, it's fine," he tells me seriously.
"I have money," I insist, feeling uncomfortable on the topic.
"Keep it," he says shortly. I let it go. I know a losing battle when I see one.
Luc shows me the bathroom and where the towels are below the sink.
"We don't have any, uh, girl stuff," Luc says awkwardly. "Just let me know if you need anything and we can go let it later or I'll send one of the guys."
His cheeks are red thinking about what 'girl stuff' might entail.
"Thanks, Luci." I chuckle, patting his chest.
He gives me a genuine smile before walking out and closing the door to the bathroom behind him.
I unwrap the bandages around my ribs. After staring longingly at the huge bathtub in the corner with a promise to myself to use it before I leave, I undress and step into the shower.
After a moment's thought, I pull my knife from the lining of my jeans and rest it where I have easy access.
The water warms quickly and I spend longer than I'd like to say just standing under the showerhead.
Eventually, I have to wash the blood from my head, the water on the floor of the shower runs pink from it. I wince a couple of times, scrubbing my skull for a few minutes before the water no longer turns pink.
I look around and find some body wash. That's for guys, I think.
I don't mind though, it's soap.
I wash the important bits, along with my hair, very painfully and stand there for a bit longer before getting out.
I’m wrapping a soft fluffy towel around me when there is a knock at the door.
Luc clears his throat. "Uhhh, I've got some more bandages for you. Just, um, come to my room when you're dressed and I'll wrap your ribs for you."
I bite my lip to keep from laughing at how awkward he sounds. "Thanks, Luci," I say softly and I hear him walk away.
I get dressed and groan at my jeans. Why do I only have jeans?! I walk past a few closed doors before I find Luc’s room closer to the front of the house.
Apparently, Luc thinks the same as I do about my denim situation because it's his first comment when I walk in the door to his bedroom.
“You can’t sleep in that,” he frowns, looking up from the first aid box on his bed.
“I have shorts in the car but they’re denim too,” I say aimlessly, looking around.
His room is pretty empty of personal stuff but there's a few half full boxes at the door. It mainly looks like textbooks and clothes haphazardly thrown into boxes.
He throws me a pair of sweatpants and I hold them up.
"Thanks, Luc, but these are huge." He looks over and chuckles like that hadn't occurred to him.
"Hang on a sec." He disappears for a second and returns with a slightly smaller pair.
"Thank you," I tell him. He waves it off and grabs a bandage from the overflowing box of first aid stuff.
I lift my shirt up and Luc stares at my black and purple bruising for a moment before he snaps out of it.
He wraps the bandage around my middle a lot tighter than I did this morning. It causes me to wince.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs as he uses a clasp to hold the bandage in place.
I take a deep breath. "It's okay." I breathe through the initial pain. When he's finished, I drop my shirt and it falls over the bandages. "Thank you," I murmur. I wish I could say tears don’t prick my eyes, threatening to spill for the second time today.
He pulls me in for a brief hug. "Try to sleep. Okay? It'll help with your head."
I nod and place a hand on his forearm. "You too. You look exhausted," I note the bags under his eyes and the redness around them. Shit, was that rude?
"Yeah, Butterfly." Luc smiles softly, seeming unoffended and I return it before walking back to my room.
I close the door and turn the fan on. I change into the sweatpants Luc gave me and pull the drawstring as tight as it goes before rolling them a few times. Either I’m small or all his friends are a lot bigger than me. Probably both.
I shut the blinds and lay in my new bed, pulling up the sheet and doona. Closing my eyes, I revel in the warmth and comfort of my cocoon.
Thank you, Luci, is the last thing I think before I drift off.