AllFreeNovel
Share Us
LUCAS
She won’t look at me.
I could probably set myself on fire, and she wouldn’t look at me.
I’d do it, too, if it meant making up for last night. That’s the part of life I hate the most. Having to face myself in the morning.
It was much easier back when I could drink it all away. I woke up feeling like the world’s biggest piece of shit after using a woman for my pleasure. I’d pick up a bottle and blot out the memory until enough time passed that I couldn’t remember what happened anymore.
That was then. Now I’m older, supposedly wiser. It doesn’t stop me from making the same shit choices.
“Celia give you that?” I mutter, gesturing toward the leather tote and the folded garments inside. She’s laid it on the bed and is now adding her own clothes to the stash. A short nod is the only response I get. Heat spreads in my chest and warms my face. Goddammit, can’t she tell I’m trying?
Of course she can’t. That would mean looking inside my head and seeing how much I wish things hadn’t gone the way they did last night. If I could only make her understand. I don’t have the words to do it. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing, apologizing and making amends.
Lauren would skin me alive if she knew I’d sunk so low again. I’m supposed to be better than this by now.
“I’m ready.” Delilah zips the bag and lifts it from the bed before I can close a hand around the straps.
“Let me,” I offer.
She shakes her head, then walks from the room. Message received. She knows how to put a man in his place, this one. Either that or I know I deserve it, which only makes things worse. There was a time I wouldn’t have thought twice about my actions from the night before. I wish I could go back to that time, so brushing her off and dismissing her anger would be easy.
“You have everything?” Celia asks Delilah before looking up at me as I descend the stairs. She’s obviously tense, rubbing her hands against her thighs. She’s dreading this for Delilah.
“I do. Thank you so much for everything.” She turns to Nic, who’s standing by the door. He might as well shove her through it, he’s so obviously ready to see us gone. “Thank you for finding me and for letting me stay here. I know it makes things uncomfortable for you.”
“Don’t worry yourself. That wasn’t your fault.” There’s a great deal of meaning between the lines, and he damn well knows it. She might not hear his true meaning, but I do. It was my fault. I let her get away, to begin with, even if it was my daughter who freed her.
We still need to have a talk about that when I return. I make a mental note of it as I say my goodbyes. Celia gives me a quick hug before shooting me a plea with her eyes. I’m not sure who she’s more concerned with, Delilah or me, and I don’t know how to respond. I settle for an awkward pat on the shoulder before turning to my brother, who merely stands with one hand on the doorknob and the other in his pocket. Another message received.
“Let’s go.”
Delilah follows me from the house and out to the waiting car. Rather than leave her bag in the trunk, she chooses to hold it in her lap, both arms wrapped around it. A shield? Or a subconscious need to protect what little is hers? Probably both.
The silence between us is heavy. I stare out the window, knowing I ought to be thinking about Corium, and everything I’m sure has piled up on my desk since leaving. My thoughts shouldn’t be trained on the girl sitting beside me. And I thought I’d be able to get her out of my life. I should’ve known better.
She’s not going to be the one to break the silence. Nor should she be. What do I say? That I’m sorry I scared the hell out of her? Should I tell her if she thinks this is bad, she should have known me years ago? I doubt that will do much good, even if it’s the truth.
But I have to say something. My conscience—what there is of it—won’t let me get away with leaving this unsettled between us. I have to put it away before we part ways once we reach the school. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. It’s the only way to get through this.
It isn’t until we’re on the plane that I clear my throat, sliding a glance her way. She goes rigid in anticipation of what’s to come. “I, uh…”
Before I can finish stammering, she says, “Don’t bother.”
“You don’t know what I was about to say.”
“It was going to be some clumsy excuse for the way you treated me.” To my surprise, she looks straight at me, her expression one of bland acceptance. “Well? Am I wrong?”
I can’t even correct her on the clumsy aspect because it would certainly have been pitiful. “You deserve to know why.”
“Like I said, don’t bother. I don’t need to know why. It doesn’t change anything. People always have their reasons for what they do, right?” She turns away again, looking down at her hands where they sit in her lap. “I know I’m nothing. I can accept that.”
“Who said you’re nothing?”
“You mean besides everybody my entire life? Some things don’t need to be said, anyway. Actions speak louder than words—isn’t that how the old saying goes?”
Fuck me. She knows how to make a man feel roughly two inches tall.
