His friend Jasper has been driving him to work, so I have Austin’s truck if I want to leave. Jasper’s older than us—in his mid-thirties with prematurely graying hair. He’s nice, at least from what I’ve seen. For some reason, I was expecting him to be younger than he is.
I glance at the keys hanging on the hook by the front door. I really wanted to be free of bruises before I saw Austin’s parents, but I’m starving and, as I previously mentioned, bored out of my fucking mind. I think I’d rather count the cracks in the sidewalk leading to the gazebo outside than watch another episode ofMasterChef. Even the food doesn’t look appealing anymore, despite how hungry I am, but I know what will.
I’m sure Austin has something I can use to cover my throat, so Itake it upon myself to raid his closet. This isn’t something I could have imagined myself doing when I first got here, but this isAustin. Every day that I spend here makes me feel more and more secure in the knowledge that he won’t hurt me. I can move and breathe freely here.
It’s not hard to find something to wear, and when I have a black scarf and one of Austin’s oversized hoodies, I grab the keys off the wall and step out into the crisp air before I can talk myself out of it.
I’ll pop into the diner, grab one of Deb’s grilled cheese sandwiches, let them know I’m home, and then come back here.
I blow out a deep breath, my hand lingering on the door handle of the truck. I can do this.
I open the door and climb in. I’m not sure why I’m building this up so much. It’s not like I’m incapable of making a quick run into town. This was my home foryears.I know this town and these people like the back of my hand.
I have to adjust the seat just to reach the pedals, and it almost makes me laugh. I can’t believe there used to be a time when I was taller than Austin. Sure, it was a short-lived time, but it still lives fondly in my memories. Tall asshole.
I check my phone before backing out. There are no messages, not that I was expecting anything different, since Austin and Jasper are the only two people who have this number.
The drive into town is familiar and quiet, and when I pull into the parking lot of Daisy’s—Austin’s parents’ diner—I smile to myself. It looks the same as it always has, and I love that some things never change. Austin and I basically grew up in here, spending time together, enjoying Deb’s cooking, and causing mayhem. One time, after we acted like fools and knocked over a whole bowl of flour, Art, Austin’s dad, kicked us out. We took off running down theroad together, laughing and covered in white.
After steeling myself, I open the door of the truck and jump out before I can talk myself out of turning around and going back home.
The door dings as I step inside, and I glance up. Deb is standing with her back to the dining room. “Hey, Austin. I didn’t think you’d be off—” Her voice dies as she turns around, her eyes landing on me. “Luca?” she whispers in shock, then she comes around the counter and wraps me in her arms.
Tears spring to my eyes and spill over before I have even a single hope of stopping them. I hug her back. This is the first good old-fashioned mom-hug I’ve had since my own’s funeral. “How long have you been in town?” she asks, pulling back and raising her eyebrows in concern when she notices I’m crying.
“Uh.” I wipe at my face with the sleeves of Austin’s hoodie, trying to get my wayward emotions under control. “About two weeks now.”
“Two weeks?” Confusion mars her face, and she reaches up to brush my hair back. The motherly touch makes my heart ache, but I also have to fight incredibly hard not to flinch as she touches me. “Why haven’t you come sooner? Does Austin know?”
I nod. “Austin knows. He, um… he came and got me. Don’t be mad at him. I asked him not to tell anyone.”
Her eyebrows pull together. “I don’t understand. Did we upset you? Is that why you didn’t want us to know?”
I shake my head slowly. God, is that really what she thinks? I guess it wouldn’t be a stretch for that to be the case. I haven’t exactly been an open book the last few years. Especially not with her. Austin is the only person I’ve kept in contact with, and even that wasn’t as much as I should have.
I can’t let her think it’s her fault, though. I just can’t. With a deep breath, I clear my throat and reach up to pull the edge of Austin’s scarf down. My throat convulses as I swallow, and when I’ve exposed the faded bruising to Deb, she lets out a choked noise.
“Oh, Luca.” The quiet concern in her voice has my heart tightening in pain. She reaches up, her fingers hovering over my throat. “Damien?”
I nod, swallowing hard again.
She doesn’t touch me, and for that I’m thankful. “I didn’t know, baby. I’m sorry,” she whispers, shaking her head.
I almost laugh at that. “I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s not your fault.”
Her eyes—brown and warm, just like Austin’s—meet mine. “And you’re safe now?”
A tentative smile forms on my lips. “I’m staying with Austin, so I’m sure I am. This is the first time I’ve left the house since I got here. I figured between Austin’s house and Momma Deb’s diner, there wasn’t a safer place I could be.”
She laughs. “You got that right. Are you hungry?”
I adjust the scarf, moving it back into position to hide the bruising again. “I’m starving. Austin made me grilled cheese the other night, but it wasn’t as good as yours.” I give her my best smile. The smile I’d used as a kid to get what I wanted, to talk her into a sleepover, or to convince her that even though Austin was grounded, it wasn’t fair to punish me too.
She shakes her head. “You can find a seat, and I’ll get you one whipped up. Our soup special today is tomato. Do you want a bowl of that too?”
“Yes, please.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m shoveling bites of tomato soup intomy mouth like it’s my last meal. I think I had gone so long without Deb’s cooking that Austin’s grilled cheese really did just seem amazing. And it was, but I was right; he’s got nothing on this.
