Lucian

by Dawn Doyle

“Go ahead.” I listened as much as I could when Paige started her story from the beginning.

  “Leon and I have been on and off, as you know, but whenever I call him, he doesn’t pick up. When he calls me, I answer. So, I texted him, telling him enough was enough and that I wasn’t going to be his booty call anymore.”

  “Good for you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Was that all I’d been to Lucian? It hadn’t seemed so, but he sure made it sound that way.

  She beamed. “I know. I think I’m really going to stick to my guns this time, Luca. I’m tired of being treated like I’m only good for when he’s got nothing better to do.”

  Her innocent words cut deep, and I sucked in without breathing, the skin on my neck contracting inward and choking me. I opened my mouth, and while using more control than ever, I said, “Actually, I think I’m going to walk home.”

  “You live five miles away!” she complained.

  My eyes fluttered while the bridge of my nose began to sting, and I turned away quickly so she wouldn’t see my face. “I know. I’ll text you when I get home.” I didn’t give her any time to question me any more. I rushed away from her, holding my phone to my ear, receiving a call I never had.

  I’d only gotten as far as the school gate before my quivering lips parted and my silent breaths shook as I released them. I reached inside my schoolbag for my sunglasses to hide the welling tears, but I wasn’t fast enough. They slid down my face, leaving hot tracks where they went, and dripped onto my jacket, leaving behind dark spots cascading down the front. I wanted to get home as fast as I could, but I needed the time to cry alone, to try to put myself together enough before my parents saw my broken shell.

  Hiding from them hadn’t been too difficult over the weekend. Murphy’s case had made it possible for my dad to be up to his neck in calls and false leads from people wanting to give their two cents. My mom, however, was another matter. I’d made the excuse of having horrendous amounts of homework, and studying for mid-terms that never existed to spend my time alone in my room. She’d pointed out my dark circles and I’d blamed them on worrying about my tests, when in truth, they were because I hadn’t slept more than six hours in three days.

  The sun’s scorching rays beat down on me, the heat penetrating my jacket and causing my skin to prickle with perspiration. My thin, baby-blue button down shielded me from the sun’s rays, but where the sleeves stopped just below my elbow, there was enough skin showing to catch the rare cool breeze that floated by.

  Cars flew past me, the different colors blurring though the liquid haze I was struggling to see through. When I heard an engine close to me, the driver slowing down, I turned my head to look at the silver car. My pulse raced as I slowly shifted my gaze.

  I took one glance at the driver, then turned away. “Nate.”

  “Hi, Luca,” he said, his voice soft as though speaking to a young child. “Need a ride?”

  I kept my eyes forward. “Keep moving.”

  “You’re a long way from home, and it’s ninety out here. Get in out of the heat.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, and spun to him. “Go. Away. I told Brady I didn’t want to see any of you again, and I fucking meant it. Stay the fuck out of my face, Nate.”

  “Come on, Luca,” he pleaded, his dark eyes wide and his brows furrowed upward. “Just get in the car.”

  It was tempting, oh fucking god it was. The AC alone was enough to have me skipping around and jumping in without a second thought, but not this time.

  As he continued to stare at me, I gritted my teeth hard, the squeak of enamel grinding together resonating in my head, and the still tender spot on my cheek pinching. “Goodbye, Nate.” I walked away from him, and turned into a one-way street, knowing he would be breaking the law if he followed. With the shit I knew about them running through my head, he wouldn’t dare risk that.

  I took one look back to see if he was there, and I caught the tail lights just as he circled, going back the way he came. And right then, I broke down, the raw wounds opening up as though I was being torn apart all over again.

  Chapter 14

  Lucian

  They were talking about her, I fucking knew it. Their voices were hushed and secretive as though I would snap at the mere mention of her name. Always talking about shit, but never to me, because I fucking would.

  I pummeled the damn bag, ignoring the pops and cracks of my joints, hitting harder and harder with each one, wanting to feel the pain shooting up my arms and into my shoulders until my head pounded so fucking hard I couldn’t see.

  “You’ve done enough for one day,” Brady said, edging cautiously toward me.

  “Another hour,” I spat, keeping my focus on the center of the bag, and slamming my knee into the side over and over until the friction scuffed a fine layer of skin away.

  “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he argued.

  I dropped my pulsating hands and rounded on my brother. “Fuck off and leave me to train in peace!” I yelled into his face, spittle flying from my mouth, thick with dehydration.

  “It’s been a month, Lucian. You have to calm the fuck down or your gonna make yourself sick.”

  I ran my sand paper tongue around my desert mouth and grabbed my water bottle. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the remaining fragments of glass in the smashed mirror. I was a fucking sight. I hadn’t shaved in weeks, the stubble growing to an untidy length, sticking out in all directions and wild as I’d left it. I looked older than my years, which was made worse by the puffy red rims to my eyes and the black circles underneath. I looked like an addict fresh from a relapse.

  “I feel fucking great,” I replied, staring at the hollows in my face. “Never better, bro.” I slapped his shoulder and forced a smile, my eyes refusing to co-operate.

  Brady shook his head and sat on the bench, staring up at me. “You did what you had to do.”

  My smile slipped and I ground my jaw so hard I saw stars. “Shut up.”

  “You did what was best for her.”

  I threw the bottle, sloshing water across the walls and the floor. “I said shut the fuck up, Brady!” I roared. I bounded toward my brother, looking for something to hit, something I could use to take the agony away if only for a fucking second. I halted, whipping around and broke into a tirade of attacks no regular Joe could stand up to. I aimed to kill and the bag was my victim. I struck over and over, hammering my fist into the side, then the front, following with my elbows and knees until I heard a loud rip and the snapping of metal.

  The bag hung at an angle, sand spilling out into a pile underneath, and one of the three chains broken and dangling from the ceiling.

  I breathed hard in quick succession, my blood firing through my veins and my nerves on full alert. I took in the room, the place I’d spent most of my time during the last month, and scanned over the holes. I’d turned the whole fucking place into Swiss cheese, driving my unwrapped fists through the walls, the mirror… Now only the metal bench survived.

  “What the fuck?” Charlie said, running into the gym with Nate close behind. “Loosh, come on, man.”

  “If you don’t stop, you’ll run yourself down,” Nate said. “You’ve already had another fight, you gotta rest up for a while.”

  “Tell me again,” I said, turning my back on them. I didn’t want their pity; I’d brought all of this shit on myself. “Tell me how she looked.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up any more than you’re already doing,” Brady pleaded.

  “Nate, tell me.” He’d seen her a few weeks ago, and I’d overheard him telling Blaine and Charlie. “Just fucking tell me.”

  Nate sighed and the creak of the bench told me he’d sat. “She was alone and walking home from school. She was curled forward, holding onto the straps of her schoolbag. Her face…”

  I took a couple of breaths, waiting for him to continue. “Her face,” I urged him.

  “Fuck, Loosh.”

  “Her face!” I knew she’d taken a fall and had
hurt herself. Brady had told me, but Nate hadn’t mentioned it. I only hoped it wasn’t serious and had healed quickly.

  “She’d been crying and was trying not to while I talked to her,” he rushed out. “Her skin was red and blotchy, like it wasn’t just for the first time that day.”

  “Carry on.”

  “I can’t tell you any more than I’ve been telling you for weeks, Lucian. She looked a fucking mess, okay? Why the fuck do you keep torturing yourself?”

  Because I tortured her.

  I pressed my lips together, but they still shook. My chin wobbled even though every muscle in my jaw was tensed up to fuck. My wrists pumped because I’d held my fists tight for too long. “All of you, just go.”

  The door closed and I dropped to my knees in the piling sand, screwing my eyes shut. I rolled myself forward and pressed my palms to the floor. I wanted to hurt, I wanted to feel every pain imaginable. Knowing what Luca looked like after I’d used all of her concerns for my safety, twisting them to hurt her way more than I needed to, wasn’t enough. I needed to be reminded of what I’d done, to never be able to get her face out of my head when I’d fucking treated her like garbage.

  I missed her. I never thought it would hurt so bad, but being without her was like inhaling glass, cutting through my lungs with every breath. Every day that passed by, knowing I’d let her go and how, was like a weight on my chest that only got heavier.

  I reached into the pocket of my filthy and sweat-drenched black shorts, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Sitting back on my heels, I carefully opened it out, delicately pulling the edges away so the well worn creases wouldn’t rip.

  Luca.

  Her beautiful face and smiling lips, her ocean-colored eyes lighting up as she laughed at something Paige had said. I ran my dusty and chapped fingertips over the photograph that had been taken the morning of the day I’d had to destroy her, running them over her blonde waves, her face, and down her body. But, instead of feeling her curves that I’d committed to memory—every last fucking part—it was flat, cold, and something I couldn’t touch ever again.

  I dry heaved, nothing left inside of me to bring up except for the sip of water my parched mouth had already absorbed. My eyes were raw, the stinging sensations building up as I thought about every word I’d said to her.

  “Come on, bro, you gotta get up,” Brady said his voice soft as though speaking to an injured animal.

  God, how that was fucking accurate. I wasn’t just injured—I was beaten, torn apart, and left to rot from the inside out.

  I folded the copy I’d been given and shoved it in my pocket. “Just back off, Brady, I’ve got training to do.” My voice broke, and I swallowed, holding my tongue until the huge boulder in my throat subsided long enough for me to speak again. “I’m falling behind.” I stood and saw my brother looking at the bag.

  “Yeah, I think you’re done,” he said, gesturing to the mini beach spreading out on the floor. He placed his hand on my bare shoulder and squeezed before draping it across me. “The guys are in the basement, so let’s get you cleaned up.”

  I got out of the shower, dried, and pulled on my navy sweats before slipping the photograph in my clean pocket. As I tied the string I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t give a shit about shaving, the grisly look could stay for all I cared, and so could the messy hair. I slipped on my plain black T-shirt, and went back into my room.

  Brady was sitting on my chair, and seeing him there twisted my stomach, my muscles contracting so damn hard I winced.

  “You need to sit the fuck down and rest,” he said, glaring at me. “The others can’t hear you now, so either you get in your bed and I’ll leave you alone so you can sleep, or you let it out. Pick one, Lucian, because seeing you like this is fucking killing me.”

  “How do you think I feel?” I snapped. “You didn’t see the way she looked at me, the way every fucking word I said was like I’d slapped her with them.”

  “I don’t know what you said, because you haven’t told me a goddamn word about it!” he yelled. Since you got back from that fight, and said what Larry—”

  “Don’t.” I screwed my eyes shut.

  “I have to. He’s an evil bastard, Lucian, and there was always the risk of them finding out. You’re their best fighter, for God’s sake. You know they’ve had you watched since Murphy died, just waiting for you to fuck up!”

  I didn’t at the time, not until Larry showed me the picture. I thought we’d been careful, making sure I took a car from Blaine, or had Luca come to me. The look on Larry’s face was pure joy when he watched for my reaction.

  That fight, the ex-con, it had been tough, and I wasn’t lying when I’d said I’d smashed his jaw in two. He was good, but he was all fists and takedowns with barely any control over his legs. I’d gone to collect, eager to get out of that shit hole so I could see the girl—the woman—who I’d wanted to be with more than I wanted my next breath.

  I’d caught the envelope, ready to walk away when Larry stopped me.

  “Hang on, kid. I’ve got something I wanna talk to you about.”

  I slowly turned, wondering what the hell he was up to. Larry wasn’t known for small talk, preferring to pay and get you the fuck out of his makeshift office. But, there he was, trying to engage in conversation. What the fuck did he have to talk to me about?

  “One of my good friends is becoming quite the photographer, and I’d love for your input. Maybe give him some pointers on how to improve his zoom?”

  My face scrunched up in confusion, the dried blood cracking in the wounds with a fresh flow replacing it. “What?”

  “Yeah, it’s really something. Some good angles. You can’t see exactly what’s going on, but I think that’s the whole point of art—you decipher what’s happening in the parts you can’t see. I put it in your envelope. I was going to wait and let you see it later, but what can I say? I love watching people opening gifts.”

  He stared at me while I tore at the envelope and pulled out a thick, folded piece of paper, his insidious grin stretching wider and wider.

  I looked down and the second my eyes laid on the image, the room began to spin. My heart beat faster than ever, ice-cold shivers coursing their way through my veins and bringing every last ounce of heat I held inside me down to the ground. “What the fuck is this?” I snarled.

  “I believe that’s one of his favorite works,” he replied, staring at me, his eyes full of evil humor.

  The image quivered in my unsteady grasp. The picture was Luca, coming out of school and smiling at Paige. The time stamp in the corner meant it had been taken hours before.

  “She’s hot, I’ll give you that,” he said, glancing to the picture. “Nice smile on her. It’d be a shame if that were to get rearranged.”

  He didn’t move when I surged forward, slamming my hands on the desk with a bang. “You wouldn’t fucking dare,” I growled.

  “You work for me. If I say you don’t get to fuck, then you don’t get to fuck,” he yelled. “If I need you here in a day’s notice, I expect you turn up with your shit together and your fists ready. Distractions are not part of the deal, Lucian, and when those distractions fuck about with my profits, then it becomes a huge fucking problem. And the way I see it, that piece of ass is one hell of a distraction.” He laughed again. “I wanted you to have that as a tiny reminder of Luca’s face while she still looks cute,” he said, jabbing his finger toward the image. “Do you see what I’m saying?”

  My nostrils flared painfully, my facial muscles tugging at every cut and bruise on my face. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”

  “I don’t particularly like getting in the business of hurting women, Lucian,” he said pursing his lips, then his expression dropped. “Oh, wait”—he clicked his fingers while grinning—“I do. I’m all about equality. Drop her, or I will, and it won’t be pretty.”

  I glared at him, keeping my damn mouth shut before I gave him any more fuel to use against us. My hands shook an
d my arms convulsed, desperate to reach over the table and squeeze the life out of his stringy neck. I could do easily, he must have weighed one-forty soaking wet. I spread my fingers wide on the table, forcing myself to stay put. I knew he had a piece in his drawer, and the second I made a move to put his brains through the back of his head, I’d have a bullet in mine, not to mention Titan’s scary as shit presence looming outside.

  “Murphy pulled his leech, now you’re gonna do the same to yours, because if I have to get my hands dirty to keep you focused on your job, kid, no amount of scrubbing will get these nails clean.” He held them out for effect. “Now, get the fuck out of my office, and empty your baggage for your next fight.”

  “I played with her emotions to hurt her as much as I could,” I whispered, sinking down onto my bed. “I dug that blade in so deep and I didn’t stop until I’d made her think that she meant nothing to me.”

  “It worked.”

  “Too fucking well!” I roared. I reached to my nightstand and picked up the necklace I’d bought as her late birthday present.

  “Lucian, you didn’t have a choice.”

  “But I did. I had the choice of leaving her the fuck alone, but I didn’t,” I hissed. “I should’ve let her go on believing I’d been a huge prick to her at the beginning, but I couldn’t.” I ground the heels of my hands in to my red-hot eyes. “And you know the worst part of it? The thing I was most afraid of, I tried so fucking hard to make happen, and I did it.”

  “Lucian—”

  “I wanna be alone, Brady,” I cut in, grabbing the covers and pulling them over my body like a cocoon. “I’m tired.”

  I heard the click of the catch, and Brady’s footsteps growing faint as he walked away. I held on, keeping everything contained for as long as I could, but my body was wracked with tremors, my chest heaved, and my stomach tensed under the growing pressure as I refused to release the volcano building inside of me. My heart ached and I clutched at it while tucking my legs up until I was curled in a ball. I yanked the cover over my head as I broke, the howls of pain ripping from my roughened throat muffled against the pillow.