Fractured

by Sydney Landon

  I can’t help but giggle as Debra tells me in detail about her encounter with the security guys in the lobby of the apartment. I’ve noticed the few times I’ve left the building since my attack that the security here is tighter than ever, but I have never been frisked, as Debra is describing. “I can’t believe they did that to you. I mean, I let them know you were coming. Maybe Lucian can speak with them about it.”

  “No! Don’t you dare say anything. I insisted they do it. I informed that cute boy with the tattoos that I was feeling a little dangerous today and needed to be fully checked for my own good. He didn’t want to, but I told him I wouldn’t go away until he did.”

  “Oh, my God.” I fall against the cushions laughing. Only Debra—or maybe Rose—would do something like that. Was that why all my friends were insisting on visiting more than usual? Just to be felt up?

  I hear the front door slam, and I can’t help the small jump of fear that goes through me. What I told Lucian was the truth; I am better, but I still look over my shoulder…a lot. I don’t know if that will ever go away. When you truly face how vulnerable you are every day, it does something to you. I thought I was stripped of my innocence long ago, but I don’t think that really happened until I was pulled into the storage room of a busy apartment building without anyone seeing it happen.

  I relax when Lucian walks into sight, thumbing through the mail he must have collected on the way up. He looks surprised to see Debra sitting next to me on the couch but not annoyed. Even though he’s such a private person, he never seems to mind having my few friends visit me here at his home…or ours, as he likes to point out. He walks directly to my side, dropping a kiss on my upturned mouth. “Hey, baby,” he says before turning to Debra. I’m further surprised and just a little charmed when he drops a brief kiss onto my friend’s cheek. “It’s good to see you again, Debra. Is Martin with you?” My tough friend looks like she’s on the verge of swooning at Lucian’s friendly gesture.

  “Oh…um…no, he couldn’t get away. The man works entirely too much, but that’s the way it goes when you own a retail business.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says sincerely. “Maybe you and Lia can work out a day and time for us to have dinner together. I know she misses you.” Well, now it’s official: both Debra and I are putty in his oh-so-thoughtful hands. It makes me realize how much I’ve come to take his kindness for granted. He has arranged so much of his life to conform to mine almost from the start. Swallowing back tears, I acknowledge how lucky I am to have him. He has secrets and a past, which has shattered, but not broken, him. I have had so few people in my life that I could trust and depend on, and two of them are with me now. I don’t know where I would be now without Debra, and I don’t know how I survived for so long without the man looking down at me now with a soft smile that still manages to be full of possessive hunger. I love him so much my heart hurts when he’s near. A part of me knows he feels the same way, but I wonder if he’ll ever be able to tell me.

  Cassie scared him. Now I know that they were going to have a baby until she terminated it. I had long suspected that the relationship between her and Lucian was a romantic one; his words have now confirmed it. What I don’t understand is all the secrecy which seems to shroud anything concerning her. Sam and Lucian’s aunt acts just as shuttered as he does when any mention of Cassie arises. I would think her dead if not for being told she doesn’t live here anymore. I’m beginning to grow impatient for the rest of her story. I’m certain now more than ever that the key to unlocking Lucian’s nightmares is to understand what happened with her. The fear that I’ve given my love to someone who can never fully accept or return it is beginning to consume me.

  When I feel an elbow in my side, followed by an amused chuckle, I jerk out of the trance I had apparently fallen in. “Girl, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” My face heats when I realize I’ve been staring at Lucian, even though I wasn’t really seeing him. He raises a brow in question, to which I give a weak smile of reassurance in answer. I’m sure what I was thinking must be written all over my face, so I’m more than happy for Debra, and hopefully Lucian, to assume I was just ogling him.

  “Mmm, yeah,” I say, playing along, “sorry about that.” Lucian doesn’t look like he’s buying it but lets it go without comment.

  As Debra stands, saying something about needing to get going, Lucian walks to the coffee table in front of us and sits down. “Debra, do you have some extra time? I have some news for Lia that I would like you to hear, as well.” Debra relaxes back in her seat looking just as curious as I feel. When he leans forward to take one of my hands, I become nervous. What’s left in my life to upset me? It’s unlikely he’d want Debra for a witness just to break up with me.

  Suddenly, I grip his hand in fear as a thought occurs to me. “Oh, my God, has something happened to Rose?” He looks nonplussed for a moment before squeezing my hand in return.

  “No, baby. I’m sorry you thought that. Rose is fine and driving Max out of his mind probably as we speak.” The deep breath he takes doesn’t do anything to dispel my anxiety.

  I want to clap when Debra says, “Well, come on, son. Your girl’s about to have a heart attack if you haven’t noticed.”

  “All right, I didn’t mean to cause any panic. I just didn’t know how to begin, so here goes. Detective Michaels called Max this morning…”

  “They caught him,” I whisper hopefully. Please let him be behind bars now where he has always belonged.

  He hesitates and my spirits plummet thinking he’s still out there. Still waiting to catch me unaware again. “Lia, he’s dead.” I hear Debra hiss beside me, but I can’t seem to process his words. Who is he talking about? It can’t be my stepfather. I asked God to punish him for years, but it never happened, and I can’t comprehend that it would now.

  “No…not him…never him,” I say in a daze. I can’t get my hopes up, because I’ll never be free of him. Hasn’t he assured me of that repeatedly? Lucian comes closer until my legs are wedged between his. He takes my face between his big hands, forcing me to look at him. “He’s never letting me go,” I say to him as Debra chokes on what sounds like a sob beside us.

  “Baby, listen to me. Jim Dawson is dead. They found him earlier this morning in the French Broad River. He’s gone…for good.”

  I give Lucian a dejected look as I say, “He knows how to swim. He was on his high school swim team so he would never have drowned.” I know my words must sound crazy to him. Most people would assume that my refusal to accept that my stepfather is dead stems from not wanting to lose him. It’s not that at all…I just can’t let myself believe it because I’ll break completely apart when we find out he is alive, well, and coming after me. It’s been literally beat into me over and over all my life to never wish for anything. There may be a fine line between love and hate, but the line between dreams and nightmares is even thinner, almost transparent at times.

  When his lips suddenly lock on mine, all thoughts are driven from my head. The daze of a few moments ago is gone, and I feel nothing but him. His familiar smell and taste surround me as I lose myself to the stroke of his tongue. When he refuses to deepen the kiss, I raise my hands and dig them into his hair, trying to pull him closer. When Debra drawls, “Whew, have mercy,” it’s like a bucket of cold water over my head.

  I was seconds away from crawling into Lucian’s lap and wrapping myself around him. Just one touch from him and I’d completely forgotten her presence and…his words. “He’s really dead?” I gasp out, finally allowing it to penetrate the protective shell I had been in. The reason for Lucian’s sudden kiss is clear to me now. He was attempting to break down my walls and get me to really hear him.

  “He is,” Lucian agrees gently, rubbing my arms.

  “Do the police know what happened?” Debra asks as she begins to visibly relax.

  Once again, Lucian hesitates before saying, “It was a gunshot wound. He was probably dumped in the river after the fact.” My hands s
tart to shake as everything sinks in. “He’s gone, baby…he is really gone,” Lucian adds before pulling me into his arms.

  Lucian and I both startle as Debra jumps from the couch and starts throwing her arms in the air. “Hell, yes! Ding dong, the devil is dead!” Then she does something that looks suspiciously like an attempt at moonwalking mixed with some sort of break dancing. I know both of our mouths are hanging open as she continues to act as if she just won the lottery. “Hey, I’m happy as a pig in shit! If that makes me a bad person, then so fucking be it. My baby girl is finally free.”

  Unbelievably, as Debra celebrates, I cry…and I mean ugly cry. I know Lucian and Debra must think I’ve gone insane. How can I possibly be crying right now? The odd thing is that my tears have nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with a twisted kind of loss. Like someone suffering from a type of reverse Stockholm syndrome, I don’t know how to react now that the evil which has defined me for years is gone.

  For as long as I can remember, my life has been about survival. First with my mother, then with the monster she brought into our lives, and finally trying to make it on my own. Who am I now that I’m no longer that girl? Can I even adjust to being a person with the normal hopes and fears of a woman my age? With him gone, I comprehend that I’ve been his puppet on a string even when I thought I had won my freedom the day I left home. I was only ever as free as he allowed me to be. His very existence still controlled every aspect of my world.

  The realization snaps something inside me. I wrench myself from Lucian’s arms and completely lose it. My anger bubbles like molten lava flowing through my veins as I begin throwing everything in my path. I’m like a whirlwind of destruction as I smash a glass vase against the wall. The lack of clutter in Lucian’s apartment means there isn’t much readily available on tabletops, so I move on to the bar area and start grabbing the crystal glasses and decanters there. I see Debra, out of the corner of my eye, starting to approach me before Lucian pulls her back. “She needs this; just let her go.”

  You’re fucking right I need it, I think to myself as I continue to destroy the bar area. I’m vaguely aware of Debra leaving before I lose all meaning of time and place. My throat begins to throb and I wonder idly why when I realize I’m screaming and my voice has gone unusually husky. Have I been doing that this entire time? My movements slow almost as if having to think about something so mundane has brought me back to the present. I look down in surprise at the bottle of whiskey I’m holding. As I move to sit it on the bar behind me, something crunches beneath my feet. I glance down in disbelief to see broken glass everywhere. The room looks like it has been ransacked. A wave of relief washes over me when I notice Lucian standing off to the side, almost as if waiting for my next move. “Luc?” I ask uncertainly. “I…oh, my God, I did this!” The words tumble from my lips as I stare at him in horror.

  He reaches me just as I would have fallen to my knees in the jagged glass graveyard below my feet. He doesn’t say anything as he effortlessly swings me into his arms and leaves the carnage behind. He carries me straight to the bathroom before setting me on my feet. His eyes move over my face as if searching for something as he strips my clothing from my body. I stand, waiting obediently as he makes quick work of his own before dropping his hands to my hips. He leads me into the steaming shower and under the hot spray of water.

  He washes me thoroughly and then himself. When I turn to step out, he pulls me back, enfolding me in his arms. He joins our lips in a kiss that is devoid of anything other than comfort. He is connecting with me in the fastest way he knows. This kiss is all about helping me find my center, grounding me with him in the moment, and I need it. I put my arms tightly around his neck, and he hoists me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He rocks from side to side, comforting me like a child. “Are you okay?” he asks against my lips as he rains soft kisses across my exposed skin.

  “I’m sorry about what I did,” I say, ashamed to have lost control and wrecked his beautiful apartment. “I’ll clean it all up right now.” I begin unwrapping my legs from around him, but he stops my downward descent by refusing to release my ass. He carries me from the shower before putting me back on my feet.

  “The cleaning service is on their way over now, so please stay away from all of the glass in the living room. They’ll have it taken care of in no time.” He continues to ignore my objections while we dry ourselves off. I am walking toward the closet to dress when he captures my hand before dropping to the bed and pulling me into his lap. He is wearing a pair of form-fitting, black boxer briefs and I’m in a light blue bra and panty set. “I need to tell you something else, but first I need to know that you’re okay. I’d pour you a drink first, but we seem to be fresh out of glasses.”

  Maybe we both have a sick sense of humor, but the laugh that his joke brings forth from both of us is a much-needed tension-breaker. “I don’t know what happened to me. First, I couldn’t accept that he was actually dead after tormenting me all of these years, then I got so angry at myself and at him when I realized that I’ve still continued to let him run my life. Almost every decision I’ve made since that monster came into my life has been influenced by him.” I find myself choking up again, as I admit, “I never got away. Don’t you see? I was living on borrowed time and deep down I knew it. I just didn’t want to accept it. He was always going to come for me, just as he said.”

  I take his face in my hands, looking into the eyes of the man who has put his own pain on the back burner to help me deal with mine. “Loving you is the first real thing I’ve done just for me. Everything else has just been out of necessity. You are a dream I never dared to dream because my mother, then my stepfather, took that ability from me. That was another reason why I was so angry. He took everything from me, and I didn’t even understand that until today.”

  Lucian wipes the tears, which are once again falling from my face with his thumbs, before kissing first my mouth, then my nose and finally my forehead. “No matter what he took, he never broke you. You are the wonderfully talented, intelligent, driven, and loving woman you are despite him, not because of him. I’m in no way worthy of you, but I lay my heart at your feet because you own me, baby.” My heart skips a beat at his words. He is saying he loves me. Maybe not in the standard way, but there is no mistaking his meaning. If my life thus far was what I had to endure to find this man, then I would go through Hell again and again just to end up where I am now…in his arms.

  “I love you, too,” I say softly, wanting him to know I recognize and return the feelings he is trying to express. We kiss again, both getting lost in the moment before he pulls back with a frown.

  “I almost forgot what I needed to talk to you about…That seems to happen a lot when we’re together.” He looks nervous, which in turn makes me anxious. “The police want to question both you and me this evening about your stepfather’s death.”

  I jump to my feet and immediately begin pacing. Can he not just be gone? “What? Why? I don’t want to relive what happened to me with them again!”

  He comes to his feet, taking my shoulders between his hands. “Honey, it’s not that. It’s just that you’re the only remaining family, other than your mother, and I’m your boyfriend. According to Max, it’s just a formality and the police need to go through the motions for their paperwork. You don’t have to worry; I won’t let them upset you.”

  What is wrong with me today? I seem to be going off the deep- end over everything. It is a lot to take in, though, and I had mistakenly assumed that his death meant everything to do with him was over. Apparently, not quite yet. I need to get a grip and calm down. If Lucian isn’t worried, and he doesn’t appear to be, then it’s fine. After it’s all over tonight, I can regroup and truly move forward for the first time in my life. “Oh, my God,” I gasp, “poor Debra! I need to call her. She is probably completely beside herself over my earlier freak-out.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Lucian agrees wryly. “I think she was in shock wh
en she left here. I guess she’s never seen you on a rampage before?”

  My face flushes as I quickly walk toward the closet and pull on jeans and a sweater. Lucian is dressing when I step into the living area to find my phone. My jaw drops in shock as I take in the sight before me. Dear Lord, he wasn’t kidding when he said we were out of glasses. I can hardly believe that I’ve completely wrecked the bar. He comes up behind me, plucking me effortlessly off my feet. “What’re you doing?” I ask in surprise as he carries me through the wrecked room and into the kitchen before setting me on the countertop.

  He tweaks one of my toes and shakes his head. “You don’t have any shoes on, Lia.”

  “Oh, yeah, I didn’t think about that,” I admit as I look at my bare feet. “So, when is Detective Michaels going to be here?” I try to act as if I’m not nervous, but I know he sees it.

  “I’m going to go grab a pair of your shoes for you and then I’m calling Max to see if we can meet them somewhere else.” Before I can ask why, thinking I’d much rather do this at home, he adds, “I doubt the living room will be cleaned before the police arrive, and right now it looks and smells like a scene from a bar brawl. They’d probably lock my ass up because there is no way they would believe you did all of that.”

  I look at him in amazement, unable to believe he’s actually laughing at his assessment of the wreck in the other room. I am completely appalled to have done something like that to his home. He should be kicking me out, not shaking in laughter. Despite myself, I am unable to stop the grin from fully forming on my mouth. “It’s not funny,” I attempt to scold both him and myself. “It’s going to cost a lot of money to clean and replace everything I’ve broken.” He just continues to laugh until I add, “I mean it; I’m paying you back. I’m all healed except for my wrist and fingers, so I can start cleaning again.” His laugh morphs into a scowl before I can complete my sentence.