Chapter 16
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From the tower, to the castle.
Clara
Mom called me last night, while I was drawing on Lukas and didn’t have my phone.
The physical revolt and dread that shredded through me when I saw the missed call this morning made me wish I were back in his arms, as reluctant to leave as he was to let go. Now the dull sensation of sickness swirling in my stomach mingles with the guilt that I am intentionally ignoring her call…but I can’t bring myself to remedy that.
I love my mother.
I love my family.
But…when Lukas said his family wasourslast night?
Something inside me swelled and mended.Yes, the broken child within me cried,this is a family. This is what it means to have a family. Your familyismine, and it isright.
A real, true home is somewhere safe, full of people you can count on.
No matter what.
In the front seat of Lukas’s car as we head toward the studio in a city beyond Sunset, I stare at my wrist. He freshened my brand last night, but this time he wroteLukas’s, and for some reason, that means more than when he signedKingwith the trained fluidity that implied he’d done it a million times before, for a million other people.
I keep tracing the letters and repeating the promise in my mind.
I am his. I belong. I amloved.
“What if I get this tattooed?” I murmur.
He glances toward me. “Zakery could do it. He did mine. He’s got a whole kit. He normally keeps his own tattoos covered beneath that jacket of his, but he’s just completely inked, top to bottom, all work he’s done himself.” Lukas slams on the brakes at a stoplight and looks at me. “Wait. You’re thinking about getting my name…tattooed…on you?”
I wince. “Sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?”
His head shakes. “No.” He clears his throat. “That’s… That wouldn’t makeyouuncomfortable? Tattoos are pretty permanent.”
I meet his eyes. “For someone constantly warning me about how egotistical, commanding, and controlling he is, you’re pretty bad at being egotistical, commanding, and controlling.”
“Sorry. You’re right.” He takes a deep breath and focuses out the windshield. “Get my name burned into your skin, E-clair-a, and let me kiss it while you tell me how much you’re mine, while youbegme to own you.”
Better late than never, I suppose.
A fragile smile lifts my lips as I lean across the console, against his shoulder, and try to breathe through the anxiety. It’s fine. I’m his. He wants me. He wants to own me. And not in the way that my parents always seemed to want to commandeer my every move, controlling my every thought and action, making me doubt any piece of independence I could obtain. Here, with Lukas, I feel more secure than I ever have. More sure of myself. More capable. I stayed with him last night, because I wanted to, because I trusted him. And, right now, beneath his shirt, he is covered in glittery marks ofme. Glittery claims that he begged me for. Because our relationship is a two-way street.
He is just as desperate for me to tell him he belongs as I am to belong.
Everything is fine. I’m doing well. I can tell Mom that I’ve been with Lukas this entire time, so I couldn’t return her call. I’ll tell her I’m working on the autograph situation, trying to get her more than one without making it too obvious. That way, maybe she won’t think I’ve failed to get her any after nearly an entire month? That way, she won’t think I’m a failure of a daughter…even though—no matter what I do—she always has.
My stomach sinks, and I lose my smile.
“What’s wrong, cupcake?” Lukas soothes.
“I wish the people we loved loved us back in the ways we need them to. I feel like Rapunzel fromTangled. I’m just waiting on the moment when everything falls apart, and I have to run back home, but there’ll be no suns in my paintings to let me know I’m a long-lost princess. I’ll have just been stupid, deluded into thinkingbetterexists when it doesn’t.”
Lukas’s mouth opens, then closes. He takes a breath, letting it out slowly, before saying, “Are we…talking about the movie with the villain figure directly designed as an example of an abusive parental relationship?”
“I… Yes?”
