63. Truth and Nothing But the Truth
Truth and Nothing But the Truth
“What?” The blood drained away from her cheeks, off-balance, she reached for him, but he held her up, as easy as he always had. He’s letting me go?
He didn’t give her time to think, guiding her hand to settle over his heart.
The rapid beat thrummed underneath her fingers.
“This is what I feel for you. I can’t explain it.
We both know I didn’t mean for it to happen.
But it did. And hell,” he sighed, the hesitation evident in his voice.
“If you don’t feel the same, I won’t blame you.
But you needed to know. If only to tell you I would do everything for you.
To keep you safe. It’s all I’ve been doing. ”
“Then w-why lie?” She couldn’t keep the hurt from seeping into her tone.
“I didn’t want you to feel like… prey.”
Prey. In the woods that night, she had mentioned feeling like prey. And he had remembered. Of course he had.
“And the things I did to keep you safe. They will haunt me for as long as I live.” He tipped his head up, intent on picking up her expression. “But I know my reasons for it. And I won’t regret it because it had to happen.”
Haunt him. What had he done to keep her safe?
“What…” She cleared her throat. “What did you do?”
“The truth isn’t pretty, Kate. Are you sure you even want to know? Because there is no going back after it. And I would… prefer it if you didn’t know.” The plea was practically written on his face. Please, don’t ask. Not again.
But she didn’t, couldn’t live that way.
Her shoulders straightened in sync with her chin. “The truth, Lucien. Nothing but the truth. Ever.”
He nodded. “I was afraid you might say that.”
Lucien stepped back, leaving her personal space to go and drop down on the bench that sat in front of the piano. His fingers skimmed over the instrument, soft notes coming to life beneath them. Ghost brushed past her, soft fur tickling her palm before he joined the lonely man at the piano.
Funny, in all other arguments the wolf-dog had leaned against her, now he was pressed tightly against Lucien’s legs.
Offering his support. Her eyes narrowed at the creature in front of her.
She had thought it was treats keeping the dog in check at first, but she’d come to learn it was a companionship unlike any other she’d seen before.
Do I need to… trust his judgment? Maybe she had all this time.
“You should go and sit. Please.” He gestured towards the couch. A glint of unease spread in his green depths.
“Okay.” Kate forced her quacking legs into motion, shuffling over the concrete before plopping down on the couch. Bracing her elbows over her knees, she waited to hear what he was so hesitant to share.
His lips opened, and it spilled over. “Isabel. She died.”
It took a second to hit her.
“Well, technically she was in a coma.” Now Lucien had started, he kept going. An endless stream of hurt. “I was there, asked the doctors if there was a chance for her survival.”
Died. Isabel died.
“They told me there wasn’t. I was the one responsible for the decision. And I signed the form. I was there, Kate. She was so pale. I kept waiting for a sign of life. A squeeze in my fingers, a flutter of her eyebrows. But she was gone.”
A form… a form for what?
“So I let her go. I know you, you value freedom over everything else. The opportunity to go where you please, to never be held back again. I get it. It’s why I signed, to give Isabel the same. When it happened, I stayed with her so she wasn’t alone.”
The girl with the sparkling blue eyes, her mirror image. The one she hadn’t managed to save. Gone.
She couldn’t say anything. Frozen in place. She wanted to cover her ears, shut him out. But her limbs wouldn’t listen.
“Don’t… make me say the rest.” He shook his head. Pleading. “It’s enough, sweetheart. Knowing won’t make anything better.”
“No. Say it.” Her voice was cold. But if she didn’t push now, wouldn’t face it head on, she’d curse herself for whatever time she had left.
“Fuck.” His hand clenched around Ghost’s fur. “Just know. If I could have done it any other way. I would have.”
Kate had this sinking feeling of balancing on a knife’s edge. What could he have done that made him squirm? The man who had thrown threats her way like it had been a game. And he had done it to save her life?
A scarlet pool on the concrete, flowing out of Isabel’s wound. Like a dam that couldn’t be stopped.
Lucien cleaning off the blood on her hands, telling her it wasn’t her fault.
Letting her fall asleep on him, his heartbeat calming her, teasing her to sleep in his arms. The final image silenced the raging in her head.
And she knew, whatever he would say. She would live with it, whatever he had done… she could take it.
“She died. And I-I buried her.”
The words hit like a grenade.
I can take it, I can take it. By God, how am I going to take this?
“Isabel and you, looking so alike. The perfect cover-up. So when I was called to the meeting, I told them the same. To get them off your back. Kate.” He leaned forward to catch her eyes. “You are free.”
Free at the expense of another.
“But at what cost?” Her eyes were glued to the concrete. Isabel, truly gone. “Why couldn’t you tell me?”
Free. The meaning of it didn’t fully register yet. What did freedom even mean? Right now it tasted like dust on her tongue, filling her mouth with the dryness of it. She forced back the instinct to puke.
“Because,” his voice was hesitant. “You would be disgusted of me, of what I’ve done.”
She stilled, the insecurity in his tone making her look up, forcing her to blurt out, “It’s all on me. If I had saved her, she wouldn’t have been thrown into a grave beside a ditc—”
“No.” He appeared in front of her, sliding down on his haunches.
“Nothing you could have done would have made a difference. You fought so hard, Kate. Don’t allow this to weigh down on you too.
” He raised his hand to her face, waiting for her to back away.
When she stayed, he cupped her cheek. “It’s mine to carry. ”
But despite it, self-loathing coursed through her veins. Imagining all the things she could have done differently leading up to the fight and in the middle of it. Like she so often had during the nights her mind wouldn’t quiet down.
“I buried her in a forest up North. Beside a stream that will burst to life when the warmth finally hits, flowers will flourish beside her. Yellow, pink, lavender… her favorite colors, she told me.” A sad smile graced his features. “The view there is… unlike any other.”
“It’s not right, Lucien. None of it is.” Her voice broke, and so did she.
For the first time in years, she burst out crying.
Her shoulders shook with the violence of it.
She buried her face in her hands, sobbing like a child.
But he didn’t move away, even when she shoved her palm against his chest in warning.
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He pulled her in against his chest and she dropped down to the floor beside him, holding onto him for dear life.
Lucien’s warmth engulfed her entirely, the light sandalwood smell drifting into her nose.
But the tears just kept coming, pouring out like it would never stop.
All he said was, “I know,” over and over. He didn’t shed a tear, but through the sound of her heartache, she could hear his own.
Hours, it felt like hours had passed by in this state of despair.
Their legs tangled together and her arms clutched around his chest. Finally Kate stilled, still caught in his embrace.
The thumping of his heartbeat had quieted down together with hers, pulling them back to the life waiting around them.
She pushed up, every limb protesting the movement. Lucien pulled away slightly, allowing space to filter in between them. Immediately, she missed the warmth of his presence.
What is wrong with me? He just admitted to burying a girl.
And he did it for you. To save your life. It was like having a devil and an angel perched on her shoulders, squabbling over what was right. Only nothing was right in this whole situation.
But by the wavering confidence in his stare, the way he stayed by her side. Kate knew it did haunt him. That stoic persona he liked to shroud himself in wobbled, out of balance by what he had done to keep her safe.
Maybe it was because of the loneliness pressing down on her at the thought of pulling away, or because of her own fucked-up childhood, or simply insanity. But she leaned in to him, watching the shock spark to life when she laid her hand against his cheek and pressed her lips against his.
Lucien froze, and she thought he might pull away again. Instead, he kissed her back. Must have noticed the clumsiness in her attempt, for he took over, warm lips brushing up against hers tentatively but without hesitation.
She let him guide the pace, following his lead before bumping her nose against his.
A soft chuckle ensued before his hand came up to cup her chin, angling her slightly to the right with a whispered, “You sure know how to keep surprising me, sweetheart.” before his lips met hers once more, expertly weaving his way into her racing heart.
There was no more nose bumping as she found their rhythm. Lucien’s hand slipped beneath her sweater, finding the small of her back, he tugged her flush against him.
Kate pulled back the tiniest bit, enough to declare in a gasping whisper.
“I’m not looking away from you.” But he drew her right back in, brushing over her temple with a feather light kiss.
Letting his appreciation show not in words but in touches.
He tilted her neck back gently and to the side, exposing her collarbone.
Her entire being shook as he leaned in to nuzzle her neck, goosebumps forming as he bared her skin, pulling back her sweater to trail over her with more kisses.
Muscles drawn taut, he withdrew to lean his forehead against hers for a second time. Asking breathlessly, “Is this okay?”
She nodded, intoxicated. Okay, didn’t even cover half of what she was feeling. Joy, relief, and pain so heavy she thought her heart might burst into a thousand pieces.
She crushed her mouth against his once more, lips moving faster and faster. She clutched at his t-shirt, desperately bringing him even closer. “I want to be with you.” Shut it all out was what she neglected to say.
“I know.” He backed away, halting her efforts. “But it won’t stop the pain.”
She stilled. Everything, he read everything that she felt. As clearly as though she’d spelled it out at a goddamn spelling competition.
“Besides.” He went on, pulling her back from the edge of a canyon. “I’m a gentleman, remember? I’ll have to court you first.”
Before she could come up with a reply, a faint buzzing noise echoed out through the room. She leaned back to glance at him, but he was already digging for the phone in his pocket, with a frown, he flipped it out.
His eyes sped over the text before he turned the phone to show her. She read it aloud. “Time to visit a grave, brother. Bring your best clothes.” A nervous twitch ticked in the corner of her eye. “Max?”
“Jup.” He offered her his hand, pulling her up to her feet. “Sooner than I had expected but that just means this will all be over after tonight.”
Only it wouldn’t. The aftermath of this would leave both of them reeling.
And the nightmares, they would only plague her more knowing that Isabel hadn’t gotten to live the life she deserved.
But maybe, when the nightmares visited, she could rely on Lucien.
And when his actions threatened him, haunted him.
She could find a way to silence the voices. If only for a little while.
She stepped back, crossing her arms over each other. “Will you be safe?” Even asking the question had a lump sitting squarely in her throat. Not now, she couldn’t lose him.
Funny, she’d always thought there would be some kind of embarrassment after having kissed a man, that her cheeks would be tinged red. But she didn’t have the bandwidth for it anymore. Didn’t have the chance to smile and giggle like a shy girl with her first kiss. Life was hard, people died.
Maybe it was time to enjoy what her heart craved, before it would be torn away again.
The man her heart sped up for winked at her.
A tiny sparkle of that cocky confidence bursting to life.
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. This… is the last part of the theater.
” With that he turned to take his jacket off the wall, bending down to string the laces of his boots together.
Kate watched as dried mud fell to the ground in clumps.
Most likely the same he had been wearing when—
“Why, though?” His eyes roamed over her face, searching for a trace of doubt. Why forgive me for what I’ve done?
His hand was resting on the handle of the door, keys ready in the other when she blurted out her truth.
“Maybe because none of us are innocent.”