Page 40 of Lucas

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t talk to him right now. I power off my cell without answering and finally allow the tears to fall.

Chapter 20

Lucas texts me seven times within one hour. By the eighth, I’m ready to throw my phone across the room. I shut it off instead, and take out the batteries so I’m not tempted to answer or respond. I don’t trust myself not to say or do something I might regret.

I curl up on the couch and tuck my feet up under my butt. They’re fucking popsicles, numb and cold like the rest of me. I wrap myself in a blanket and flick on the TV. I consider stealing Marnie’s coping mechanism by watching Gilmore Girls re-runs, but I can’t stomach a show about girl power, not when I’ve been fired from the company I started with two of my best girlfriends. How’s that for irony?

Exhausted and emotionally drained, I close my eyes. I’m just nodding off when a loud knock startles me awake. I stay very still, willing the person to go away. No luck. The knock comes again, this time with more urgency.

I tip toe to the door and peer out the peephole. The Handyman still hasn’t bothered with the light, but this time I recognize the silhouette on the other side of the door immediately, and my stomach clenches with unease. Lucas looks up, and even though I know it’s impossible, I swear it’s as if he sees me.

“Delivery,” he calls out, voice muffled.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“Weird,” he says. “The name looks right.”

I’m not in the mood for joking around this time, so I cut straight to the chase. “I’m taking your advice,” I call out. “You warned me not to open the door to strangers…” The words are meant to sting him, but they hurt to say aloud even more. I know Lucas almost better than I know myself, and I refuse to give him the opportunity to take advantage of my vulnerability. I’m done being his puppet. Time to cut those strings loose “Go away, Lucas.”

He reaches up and taps on the peephole, covering it with his thumb. “I know you can see me, Eden, so read my lips.” He takes his hand away and stands close so I can see his mouth. My traitorous body starts heading down the wrong path. I blink away the dirty thoughts and listen. “I have something to tell you,” he says, loud enough for me to hear.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” I yell.

I turn to walk away, but his voice cuts through the air with enough force to give me pause. “I talked to my partners like you asked and they’ve pulled their support for Newcastle’s case.” I inch closer and press my ear up to the door. “He can’t afford to pursue it without us, so he’s going to settle. That’s good news, right, darlin’?”

My mouth goes dry. “Perfect,” I say, a little unsure which kind of perfect I mean this time. Maybe a little of both.

“You can tell your partners that it’s going to be okay.”

My heart squeezes. “It’s too late for that.” I swallow hard, gathering my voice. “They fired me.”

“What? They can’t do that. You’re part owner.” Lucas bangs on the door. “Open up, Eden. Let me help you. I’ll go see them and explain that it’s a mistake to let you go. They’ll see.”

My eyes brim with fresh tears. He’s so damn oblivious it hurts. I can’t open the door because there’s a chance I might fall into his arms and let him make me believe that we can go back to the way things were. But he can’t save me this time. It’s not my dignity or my job that needs rescuing, it’s my heart. And that’s the one thing Lucas can’t save, because it’s his fault it’s in danger. My chest tightens.

But I can’t trust a man who has the kind of rage and darkness inside of him that Lucas has. He nearly got me killed, then thrown in jail.

And on top of that, I’ve lost my best friends and my company thanks to him. Lucas is bad news and I need to keep away from him, no matter what. That much I know.

“Darlin’, please, you know how I hate to beg.” His voice strains with desperation, and it’s almost enough to make me cave. “Let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Lucas. It’s over.”

His voice softens. “You don’t mean that. You’re just upset.”

Fresh anger thrums through me. “You’re damn right I’m upset Lucas.” Now that I’ve let it loose, my temper ratchets up full throttle. I’m so mad I could spit. “And it’s all your fault. You’ve fucked up my life enough. Go. I don’t care if ever see you again.” I start unlatching the deadbolts, still screaming. “Do you hear me, Lucas?” I swing open the door. “I never want to—”

The rest of my sentence is pointless—because Lucas is already gone.

Chapter 21

My professional name is mud.

I’ve submitted my resume to three reputable papers in New York City, and all have turned me down—not even bothering to grant me an interview. When I pressed one of my old classmates for a better explanation than “we’re not hiring now”, he reluctantly admitted that I’m just not hirable.

“You don’t have any experience with real Journalism,” he’d said.

He didn’t say it aloud, but I know what he means. Even with the lawsuit dropped, the reputation of Rubberneckers is compromised. It doesn’t matter that we turned a college blog into a thriving magazine with little more than the change in our penny jars, the stories we ran fell just shy of the kind of content you’d see in The National Enquirer, and that’s a bloody embarrassment. I literally have nothing else to put on my resume.