LUCIEN: A Standalone Romance

by Glenna Sinclair

  His support had remained unwavering even in my darkest moments. It had seen me through to the light on the other side.

  After Carl had fallen, the gun hot and heavy in my hand, and both police and security personnel swarmed the place from the outside to the inside, I’d thought that all would be lost. I was moved to recall the time when authorities had surrounded me in my mother’s room, me sobbing over her body and trying to convince them that the man who’d killed her was still out there. They hadn’t believed me then, thinking I was simply in shock, grieving over the inevitable death of my sick mother.

  What reason would they have to believe me now?

  Even as someone pried the gun from my fingers, I insisted over and over again that the man who’d fallen, the man whose blood marred the rug on the bedroom floor was Carl Prentice. I was so frightened no one would believe me, especially since he looked nothing like the description I’d given to the police sketcher. I was afraid that Carl would continue to ruin my life after he was dead and gone, sending me to jail for killing him.

  There were a tense couple of days of waiting for the investigation to find something, expedited, of course, through Levi’s influence, but fingerprints were the only thing Carl couldn’t disguise.

  Across the nation, police records and warrants lit up like the Fourth of July. Carl was a wanted man in more states than I’d ever been to, masterfully changing his appearance in each place to suit whatever situation he’d found to exploit for the time being. There were charges of rape, fraud, assault, and many more I couldn’t wrap my mind around. Somehow, seeing it all there, displayed on multiple computer screens at the police station, validated everything I’d been through.

  The things I hadn’t been able to tell my mother — and hadn’t had a chance to tell my brother — were supported by the other horrors Carl had committed, as documented by those screens.

  I didn’t need Levi to believe me, to believe what I’d been through. He’d supported me from the very beginning, even when he hadn’t fully understood what had happened. But as he studied those records alongside me, his hand squeezing mine, his mouth set in a tight line, I was validated all the same.

  “They should make a medal to give to you, Ms. Green,” a detective murmured at my shoulder, making me turn around.

  “A medal? Why?” I’d killed somebody. I still fully expected to be led to the cells past the door on the far side of the room in handcuffs.

  “Because you stood up to him,” the detective said. “Now, he can’t hurt anyone else.”

  It was a huge moment for me to realize that — “transformative,” my doctor called it. I’d been able to stand up to Carl — or whatever his real name was — and not only free myself from him, but protect anyone else he might’ve preyed upon in the future.

  To call it empowering would be almost selling it short. I was newly self-confident, shrugging myself out of the chains that had surrounded me, the weight of my past slowly lessening.

  During one of our sessions, my doctor had warned me against expecting some miraculous, immediate “cure” for what ailed me. However, realizing that I’d protected people who might’ve experience what I went through was an immediate balm on much of my soul. There were still open wounds, sure, but they would fade, given time.

  And given love.

  I’d been so frightened when Levi hadn't so much as flinched at the gunfire after I pulled the trigger, or at least cracked an eye open at the thud when Carl collapsed to the floor. But he’d started stirring when his security team hefted him up, carrying him downstairs as the EMTs tried to bustle upstairs to help him.

  “I’m fine,” he’d said crossly as one of them tried to secure a cuff around his upper arm to take his blood pressure. “Where’s Meagan?”

  “Here,” I said weakly. I was still hearing the shots in my mind, over and over again, still seeing Carl drop to the floor, still so frightened at the fact that Levi hadn’t moved when it all happened that it was difficult to believe that he was sitting up, being angry at people fussing over him.

  He couldn’t have known what happened, but he held his arms out to me all the same, willing to comfort me even if he didn't understand what had almost happened to him, what had almost happened to me.

  “It’s over,” I said, trying to convince myself of the fact more than anything else. “It’s finally over.”

  Levi was horrified when he finally learned what had happened, angry with himself and everyone around us, threatening to jettison the entire security team because of Carl’s ability to ooze in and fool people, but I was able to convince him to relax. To let it go. To accept that it had happened and accept that it was over.

  Somehow, through the horror, we came out on the other side relatively unscathed and stronger than ever.

  I watched him now, bustling around the kitchen, yet another facet of himself revealed to me, and I delighted in the knowledge that we would continue learning more and more about each other the longer we stayed together.

  I started attending a vocational college of my own volition, eager to seek out my path, to find out what life had in store for me after I’d had to defer my future for such a long time, in the grasp of Carl and his immediate aftermath.

  “You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” Levi had told me when I expressed interest in going back to school.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I have more than enough money to support you doing whatever you want to do,” he said. “Lounging around the house. Shopping. I don’t know.”

  “You make me sound like I’m a lazy, useless, oaf,” I cried, laughing at the same time. “No, that’s it. I’m going to this school, and that’s the end of it. I don’t want to lounge or shop all the time. Just some of the time. I want to be useful.”

  And as I went to school, got involved on campus, and met more people, my path became clearer and clearer. I wanted to be an advocate for people who couldn’t speak up for themselves, for people stuck in harmful relationships, for people who told their stories and still weren’t believed by the ones who said they’d help them.

  “Is this really what you want to do?” Levi asked me when I outlined my plan for the nonprofit I had in mind after several months of planning in the business class I was taking.

  “Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” he clarified. “It’s enormously selfless. You’re not going to become rich off of it …”

  “That’s what I have you for,” I teased.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m here for — your own, personal moneybags.” Levi sighed, suddenly sad. “It’s just … don’t you think running this kind of operation will remind you too much of your stepfather? Of what happened to you? Don’t you think it’ll make you upset all the time.”

  “That’s the thing,” I said, taking his hand. “What happened to me … that’s a part of me, whether I want it to be or not. I could struggle against it, if I wanted to, try to forget it, but it happened all the same. It was awful, but it’s over. What I want to do now is to give back. To make it matter. There would be no worse thing in the world than for all of my suffering to be for nothing. I could do this good thing that would continue to do good things hopefully long after I’m gone.”

  Levi opened his mouth to say something and shut it again, instead enveloping me in a tight hug.

  “So, what?” I said, groaning as he squeezed me. “Is that a yes? Will you support my operation?”

  “Of course I’ll support your operation,” he said, releasing me and kissing me. “I’ll always support you, Meagan. In whatever you want to do. Because you’re amazing. You truly are. You’re an inspiration, and I know you’re going to inspire others to keep moving forward, to never give up.”

  Giving up just wasn’t an option anymore. There was too much I wanted, too much to do. Too many people to save, even, but I was going to try. For every person I did help, well, that just made my work worth it.
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br />   The center Levi had designed for me was set to open in the fall, and I was just as busy as Levi was for once, hiring staff, soliciting donations, telling my story again and again until it didn’t hurt as badly to do so anymore, hoping that my suffering could help end others’ sufferings, as well. There had already been several articles written about the venture — one in the New York Times.

  “You did this,” I said, accusatory, holding the offending page up to Levi’s nose.

  “I can’t control the papers, Meagan,” he said, holding his hands up defensively. “They write about whatever they want.”

  I was sure that was true, but that it also probably helped that one of the city’s illustrious and handsome billionaires was working on this project for the mysterious young woman he lived with and was often seen with, sharing romantic dinners.

  Except for this romantic dinner, which would be enjoyed away from prying eyes, in the comfort of our own home.

  “Everything is smelling so good,” I said, comfortable in my seat watching Levi toil over his various recipes and dishes.

  “You just wait,” he said, taking a moment to pour a bit more wine in my glass. “It’s going to taste even better.”

  Levi had asked me if I wanted to move, after what happened. He said he wouldn’t blame me if the townhouse felt threatening after Carl had been able to infiltrate it. But I didn’t. It already felt like home, and I knew Levi loved it. He’d designed all the interiors, after all, to suit his most beloved tastes. Living here was like knowing him even better, and it made me love him even more.

  I would want to live here for the rest of my life — or anywhere, really, as long as Levi was right there with me. Home was by his side.

  “Hot plate,” Levi warned, sliding a steaming platter across the countertop at me. Every inch of it was covered with food — the savory steak, roasted Brussels sprouts, a hunk of bread covered in rapidly melting butter, spicy baked apples bathed in their own juices. The man could cook. I’d give him that.

  “You know, I think I still have an opening in the cafeteria at the center,” I joked, chewing on a succulent bite of steak. “Know anyone I could ask? Someone looking to switch careers, maybe?”

  He pretended to think about it. “I’ll ask around.”

  Dinner was amazing, but dessert was perhaps even better, the both of us slowly undressing each other, teasing each other with the strawberries and cream that had actually been on the menu for after dinner, me licking cream from his fingers until Levi couldn’t stand it anymore and lifted me up on the counter, burying his face between my legs, declaring that I tasted even better than strawberries.

  What I’d told Levi about my past was true. It would always be there, sometimes looming behind me. I’d have good days and bad days. But the hole that Carl had created in me, the one that had yawned open so often, demanding some kind of distraction, compelling me to sleep with strangers just as a distraction from the torment I was feeling … that was slowly closing up, scarring over, returning to normal.

  Levi had a good part in that. He accepted me at face value, maws and all, and that helped me. The doctor also helped, as did the sweet closure I’d gotten after that final confrontation with Carl. Not everything was tied up neatly in a bow. I still had nightmares, strong aversions to video cameras, and there were some days when seeing something on television of the internet would remind me too much of what had happened, setting me back, making me creep upstairs to lie down in bed for a while with a good book to try to forget about it. But I also knew there were people who never got to confront their tormenters, who never got the same chance at closure as I did, and that was what my organization was going to be for — to help them cope with what had happened or was happening to them as effectively as possible.

  I wanted to give back, to help make it better for other people, because I knew just how lucky I was now. I hadn’t always been lucky. But with Levi by my side, I could take on anything. There wasn’t a grain of uncertainty in my mind about that.

  “I love you, do you know that?” I asked him, both of us naked, sated, still panting, collapsed in a heap on the kitchen floor. I hoped the maids had the sense to take the night off tonight, too, along with the chef. I didn’t think I had the energy to even cover myself up if someone were to walk in.

  “I know that,” he said, kissing the palm of my hand.

  “I love you because you make me strong,” I said, turning my head, looking into those blue eyes I’d grown to know so well.

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, you’re strong all by yourself. I’m not the reason.”

  “Then what good are you?” I joked, making him tickle me. Our laughter echoed through the townhouse.

  “I’m a hell of a cook, if I do say so myself,” he said, kissing me.

  “I can attest to that.”

  “And I know of certain places that cause you to make certain sounds …”

  “What are you talking about — oh!”

  He’d buried his finger inside of my still thrumming body, working it in and out, slowly, teasing out some sounds that I could admit were quite embarrassing.

  I loved to make love with this man. That was one thing that would never change, but something that had transformed since we first met. I’d had sex with him compulsively, to banish the bad feelings inside of me, to forget. Now, though, I opened myself to him because we both loved it, both loved to make each other feel good, both loved to celebrate our love together in perhaps the single most beautiful act people could perform for each other.

  Maybe my past should’ve made sex ugly for me, but sex with Levi would never be ugly.

  “I want you,” I told him.

  “I know,” he said, and our two bodies becoming one was the greatest affirmation of love that either of us would ever be able to make.

  ~ End ~

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