Regret. Concern. Fear. Anger.Denial.
Lucian had left the panties for him on purpose—he couldn’t have overlooked them when they’d been left so close to his other clothes. The more Marcus thought it through, the worse he felt. He couldn’t get over the feeling that they were a farewell gift—a token to remember him by. Marcus expected that kind of behavior from other subs—those who chased nights of passion and didn’t care where it came from—but that wasn’t Lucian. Marcus knew him well enough to safelysaythat.
Something had to have happened. Something had to have broken insideofhim.
The Dom who’d poisoned Lucian’s mind had left him cracked, and Marcus couldn’t blame Lucian for shattering. It didn’t mean the end—farfromit.
Marcus wouldfixhim.
He didn’t discard his possessions soeasily.
22
Lucian
Nothing was as lonelyas a phone that didn’t ring. Lucian lay in bed and watched it, expecting the screen to light up with a call oratext.
Itneverdid.
Saturday morning bled into an uneasy evening at work. On Monday, the start of Lucian’s weekend, he stayed in. His attempts to distract himself with television left him feeling worse than he’d felt while fleeing from Marcus’condo.
He regretted whathe’ddone.
Marcus deserved better. Lucian had been a coward. All Marcus had wanted to do was talk, and he’d run out on him without giving him a chance. Lucian knew that he was damaged, and that no matter how strong he felt he would always have triggers, but in that moment, he hated himself for hisweakness.
If Marcus never spoke to him again, Lucian wouldn’tblamehim.
On Tuesday, drained and lonely, Lucian picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. There weren’t many. With only so many lifelines to choose from, Lucian called the one person he knew heshouldn’t.
He calledClarissa.
The phone rang. Lucian closed his eyes and sprawled across his couch, hoping she’d answer. Once upon a time, she’d offered to lend her ear if there was something bothering him. Now that there was something sticking beneath his skin, Lucian intended to take her up on heroffer.
“Lucian?” Clarissa asked when she answered his call. “What’s up? Areyouokay?”
“I’m okay.” It was only a partial lie, but Lucian set it straight. “Well, not one hundred percent okay. I, um, I was wondering if you had some timetotalk.”
Clarissa couldn’t know about who he was seeing, but if he was vague about the situation, Lucian thought she could help. It didn’t matter if she had advice for him or not—speaking his mind and putting actual words behind his thoughts would help him get a hold on thesituation.
“Yeah. I’m running laundry, but I’m not doing anything more exciting than that. Hit me. What’s gotyoudown?”
Lucian drew in a breath. “I’ve been seeingsomeone.”
“Iknewit.” Clarissa laughed. “Well, I’m glad you came to me about it. You’ve been so down at work lately that it’s been tearing me up inside. You had this look in your eyes all weekend like someone ran over your puppy. So, what happened? What can I do to help youthroughit?”
“I think I just need to talk, if that’s okay.” Lucian tented his knees and dug his toes into the gap between the cushions of his couch. “It’s been eating at me, and I don’t really have any friends outside of work to talkto,so…”
“Lucian.” Clarissa spoke plainly. “I’m your boss, but I like to think that I’m also your friend. We’re a family at The Shepherd,right?”
“Right.” Lucian pushed his toes deeper. “But I still feel kind of bad cutting into your time off to vent about myproblems.”
“You don’t need to. My life is boring.” Clarissa laughed dryly. “I’d rather hear about you than swap outlaundry.”
“As long as you’re sure.” Lucian shook the last of his fear free. If he didn’t do something, he’d always feel miserable. “I, um, I think I made a mistake this weekend, and I don’t know if I canfixit.”
“Whathappened?”
He considered how to best broach the subject. Clarissa couldn’t know about Marcus, and he couldn’t give her so much as an inkling that something was going on between them. Some of the topics he wanted to talk about were off thetable.
