“Lucas?” I call out quietly.
He looks up, and the sight of him knocks the air out of me. He’s thinner than before, his cheekbones sharp, eyes bloodshot and sunken, jaw clenched like he’s holding himself together by force. He pushes off the wall and walks toward me, and the closer he gets, the more he looks like someone I don’t fully recognize.
“Kira,” he says, and his voice cracks in the middle, rough in a way that tells me he’s either been crying or yelling. He stops in front of me and stares for a long second before pulling me into a hard hug, his hands gripping the back of my coat like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I stand stiff for a moment, unsure whether to hug him back, then I slowly lift my arms and hold him, even though everything inside me feels too tense to soften.
“You look awful,” I whisper.
“So do you,” he mutters, but there’s no humor in it.
When he pulls away, he wipes his face with the back of his hand and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear something out of his mind. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kira. I know I messed everything up. I know I’ve—God, I’ve ruined your life and mine and I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”
My throat tightens. “Lucas?—”
“No, listen,” he cuts in quickly, voice sharp and desperate. “You shouldn’t be with him. You shouldn’t even be near a man like that. You don’t know what you’re doing. Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
I freeze. “Lucas, I’m not leaving with you.”
His jaw tenses. “He’s got you brainwashed or something. I mean, look at you. You’re defending him?Him? The man who is putting a gun to my head?”
I flinch.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I say quietly.
Lucas laughs, and it sounds bitter, broken. “Yeah. Yet.”
He steps closer, grabbing my arm with too much force, his fingers digging into my sleeve. “Kira, you have no idea who you're dealing with. He’s a monster. You think he loves you? You think he sees you as anything but something he owns? Look at you. Look at what you’ve become.”
“Stop,” I say, pulling my arm back, but he grips harder.
“You think you’re safe with him?” he spits out. “You think he won’t toss you aside when he gets bored? You think you matter to him? You’re just convenient, Kira. That’s all you’ve ever been to him.”
It hits a nerve so deep I feel it like a bruise forming from the inside.
“Lucas,” I say again, my voice unsteady, “let go of me.”
But he doesn’t. His eyes go wild for a moment, full of panic and frustration and something darker. “I need you,” he says, shaking his head hard. “I don’t have anyone else. We’re the only family we have left. You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I say, forcing the words out, even though part of me feels split open. “But I’m not going with you. I can help you, but I’m not running away with you.”
His grip tightens again, almost painful. “You already chose him,” he says, voice low and shaking. “I can see it all over your face. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
The breath catches in my throat because saying no feels like lying and saying yes feels impossible.
Lucas sees the hesitation and his expression twists. “Jesus Christ, Kira. Do you even hear yourself? After everything he’s done? After what you went through in the system? You’re just repeating the same pattern. You go from one kind of abuse to another, and you’re calling it love this time.”
My stomach drops.
“Don’t bring that into this,” I whisper.
“Oh, I will,” Lucas snaps. “Back when you were a child, didn’t have a choice. Now you do.”
“That’s not fair,” I say, my voice shaking now. “You don’t know anything about?—”
“I know enough,” he cuts me off, stepping in closer until his face is inches from mine. “I know you think he’s different. You think he’s going to save you or fix you or whatever bullshit you’ve convinced yourself of, but he’s the reason you almost died. Twice.”
“How do you?—”
