Page 37 of Thirteen Years
I looked up at him, and over at Paul.
Paul nodded, obviously solidifying what Lucas was saying.
“What do we do?” I asked.
Paul spoke up, gently, “Right now? You all let Nat stay at our house, hang out with the girls. She needs as much normalcy as possible, and she isn’t a bother, and you don’t owe us shit, Rebecca,” he added, obviously seeing the beginnings of an argument in my eyes.
“I’d suggest you stay somewhere else tonight,” he added, glancing at Lucas. “Probably Marshall’s house, until we get things secure back at your apartment and figure things out, yeah?”
I glanced at Lucas, unsure of where to go from here.
Lucas shook his head again, “Don’t look at me like you have to ask if that’s okay, Rebecca,” he pleaded softly.
I sighed, pushing my hair out of my eyes, “Fine,” I conceded.
I was fighting inner battles. My normal response to this would be to get Natasha, pack, and leave. It wasn’t to rely on anyone else. Sitting around waiting for someone else to take care of things, and handle them, was so far outside of my comfort zone. I could feel the walls that Lucas had been breaking down, rising again. I felt like the other shoe had finally fallen. I felt like I had become too reliant.
Lucas guided me out, opening the door to his truck again. I could feel him staring at me, but I stayed quiet, looking out the window as he started driving.
“I know this is presumptuous, but I checked some of your clothing sizes when I stayed over one night,” he spoke softly, hesitantly. “I’ve got some stuff at my house already, in case anything ever happened or you stayed over,” he trailed off, sounding unsure at my continued silence.
I kept looking out the window, and nodded to signal that I’d at least heard him. This was just what I meant. He was taking care of me. I was getting soft and hadn’t even packed what I considered go bags, in this city. I always had stuff packed and ready to go if we needed to leave suddenly. I always had the important stuff ready to grab as we went out the door. I hadn’t done that. Here I was. Relying.
“That’s fine,” I said, keeping it short. He drove for a while before turning into a quaint two story house. It wasn’t huge, and wasn’t modern. It was obviously well taken care of, and more than I thought a single man like him would have. I glanced over with my eyebrow raised.
He turned the truck off, staring at the house, not at me. “This was the house I grew up in,” he explained, “My nana and I lived here. She raised me.”
I nodded. He’d explained his mom had run off, and his dad was in the military, leaving him with his grandma until they’d gotten notice he was killed in action.
“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, “It reminds me of my grandma’s place,” I added.
He looked over and smiled, “Shall we?”
I sighed, nodding, knowing that once we got inside I needed to have a conversation with him. I needed to start pushing, and backing away. Clark had always gotten away with things before and I didn’t have reason to think this would be any different. They couldn’t even find him. I needed to back away. I needed to pack and run. Natasha would be mad and hurt that we were leaving again for a while, but she’d have to understand. It was better now before things got further involved with everyone we’d met in this town. Lucas unlocked the front door and held it open as I walked by him. I heard it click as he shut and locked it.
I looked around where Lucas had grown up and had to smile slightly, imagining him as a little boy running around. I saw pictures scattered around of him and an older woman and man who had to be his grandparents. You could feel the love in this house.
I stopped where I stood in the living room, my back to a hallway that stretched out behind me, and faced him.
He looked at me and leaned back against the sofa, his hands resting behind him on top of it.
“Why don’t you go ahead and say whatever is on your mind, Rebecca?” he asked softly. He hadn’t turned any lights on. Just the light from the moon and street lights outside shone behind him, casting him in a shadow.
I crossed my arms around myself, feeling like I was going to shatter apart.
“This is just too much,” I blurted out.
“How do you mean?”
“It’s too much!” I repeated louder this time, snapping at him in my anxiety addled state. I could feel myself getting ready to lose it, “I feel like a burden. I thought we had finally outran Clark. I thought I’d finally found somewhere to settle. That’s the only reason we attempted to set down roots here,” I continued.
“That’s the only reason I allowed Nat to get attached to people and start extracurricular activities this time. It’s the only reason I started a friendship with Monica,” I added, “and let whatever this is continue.” I muttered under my breath.
“Whatever this is?” he asked softly.
I couldn’t shut it off. Now that the proverbial gates had been opened I was blurting out everything on my mind, every insecurity, every anxious-ridden thought that may or may not make sense to anyone but me. If this didn’t shove him right out the door, nothing would. No one wanted to deal with a woman like me.
Clark had been right.
