Quinn drives us home while Vitali brings the other car. I’m glad it’s Quinn and not my brother. Sometimes, it’s so fucking hard to be around Vitali. When I knocked on the cell door and Vitali opened it, I froze. And Vitali, who never, ever drops his eyes, did. He backed off, backed away, pretty much vanished.
But I know he’s behind us in the Jeep. I know he saw … too much.
So did Quinn, but it’s different. Quinn didn’t know me before. And there are no questions in his eyes. I almost feel like he knows something that I don’t, like all of this makes a whole lot of sense to him, way more than it does to me.
Lucas stays curled up against me the whole way back. I just hold onto him and try to think. But my head feels heavy. My whole body does. I feel like it should be night instead of afternoon.
When we reach the house, Quinn stops at the front to let me and Lucas out. As we walk up the steps, both cars travel around to the back. As they pull out of sight and I stop feeling so aware of them, I have a sudden, sharp realization that both of them, and Sasha too, would take care of Lucas. If I weren’t around.
Lucas and I go inside. The house is quiet, with Sasha keeping out of sight. We go up to our room.
Lucas uses the bathroom then turns on the shower. I know he might want to be left alone, but I need to see him. Before I can open the door, however, he does. He takes my hand and leads me to the shower.
It’s a luxury, showering with Lucas like this, and I feel intensely aware of the nice bathroom and the privacy. I didn’t like seeing Lucas in that bare, dirty cell. I didn’t like having him lying on that filthy mattress. He didn’t belong in that space. He belongs here.
He notices the force of my attention before I do. I’m washing the shampoo from his hair, running my hands over his head again and again like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to do it, when he curls his hands over my wrists.
His eyes are calm and patient. He’s so beautiful and gentle and kind.
He deserves better.
When I drop my hands to his shoulders, he offers me a small smile.
It makes me sad.
We finish showering and dry off. We put on clean sweats and t-shirts. Lucas helps me put a fresh bandage on my forearm, then we go out into the bedroom. There’s a tray of food waiting inside the door.
Lucas goes to retrieve it. He bypasses the couch and sets the tray on the floor. Quinn’s hand is evident in the steak sandwiches, just as it was in the bagels. I’m struck, though, by the difference in the setting. God, I hated seeing Lucas in that cell.
I sit on the floor with him. He starts munching on the pickles and potato chips. I’m not hungry, but I enjoy watching him. He tries to hand me some chips, but I shake my head. His hand drops and he puts the chips back in the bowl. His face changes. His eyes change.
“You scared me,” he says quietly.
I close my eyes, thinking about how I tackled him out of the bed. For the first time since last night, something wakes up in the deadness of me. I feel like I need to hit something. A wall. Myself.
“I know,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t know where you were going. I was so scared you were going to wreck that car.”
For a second, I’m confused. I don’t know what he’s talking about. Then I remember fleeing the house.
“Oh,” I say.
Now he looks confused. But he figures it out quickly. “You thought I meant I was scared when you …” He trails off. He doesn’t want to say it. That I attacked him.
Suddenly, I can’t remain sitting. I get up and walk to the sliding glass door.
Lucas says, “You were having a nightmare. I woke you up. You didn’t know where you were.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I’ve been trying so hard to keep things shut inside myself, especially around Lucas, but it just keeps fucking coming out.
“Roman—”
“I could hurt you, Lucas.”
“You’ve never hurt me. Even in the beginning. The guards told me you would kill me, but you didn’t—youneverhurt me, not once.”
