CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
I've seen dead bodies at funerals. I've seen dead bodies on television. Nothing could have prepared me for this though.
The sound of the bullet leaving the chamber rings throughout the store. And then there's an eerie silence. One second, Lucian is sitting on top of the robber. His eyes are cold, his expression blank. The next second, his perfect face is dotted with blood. The robber is unmoving beneath him, a pool of blood forming around his head.
I feel like my heart has stopped beating. It's at the back of my throat staring out of my gaping mouth.
I just watched a murder.
I just watched Lucian kill a man.
Everything inside of me is vibrating, assimilating that new information. The man who pulled the trigger, I don't know who he is. He's a stranger. Someone without emotions or compassion.
Lucian wipes the blood from his face with his shirt. Then he turns to me and stands. He approaches me with the gun still in his grasp and extends his hand to me. Gingerly, I take it, getting up before shying away from the dead body on the floor.
Lucian wraps his arms around me. “You're safe now. He can't hurt you,” he whispers into my ear before pulling back from me slightly to look around the store. “Everyone can get up. It's safe now.”
Slowly, people rise from the aisles like gophers from holes. The look of relief on their faces is apparent.
Within a matter of minutes, there's a crowd of people around us appreciatively patting Lucian on the back for doing a good job. While I'm not the only one still mortified, it blows my mind that people are congratulating him for killing another human being. Yes, we were all in danger, but he didn't need to kill the guy. He had the advantage. He could have just stayed on top of the robber until the police showed up.
The mother ushers her child outside, and I feel like following, but I know I shouldn't leave Lucian. Still, I can't force myself to stay near the body. Instead, I make my way to the back of the store, staring at my reflection in the drink cooler.
My hair is a mess. My eyes are bloodshot. I can see the legs of the dead robber behind me, and it makes me want to vomit.
“Are you alright?” I hear Lucian's voice ask.
“I almost died, and you just killed a man. Of course, I'm not alright.” I hug myself, feeling like I need protection from everything around me, including him.
He reaches out to touch me but then doesn't, perhaps aware that I'm afraid of him. I'm so confused about what I should be thinking and feeling. Everyone else seems fine with the fact that he just shot a man. Well, as fine as scared people can be. Is my reaction strange?
It's not much longer before the police arrive. Most of the people in the store stick around to give their statements. They paint Lucian as a hero, and I feel obligated to go along with it. Not that I'd rat out my boyfriend for killing a man when he could have just as easily waited for the police to arrive. He potentially saved my life. Potentially saved all of our lives. But things could have gone so wrong. One slip up, and what he did could have cost us everything.
Despite everyone praising Lucian for taking down the criminal, he still ends up handcuffed in the back of a cop car, and I'm forced to follow him to the station. I have a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel the whole drive there, my brain going over everything that had happened—the multiple scenarios of how things could have turned out. I keep returning to the thought that no one had to die. But I also have to remember that the gun was loaded. That meant there was a very real possibility that the robber would have shot someone had Lucian not stepped in. There was also the possibility that the misfired rounds could have hit someone as well though. So many possibilities.
By the time Lucian gets processed at the police station, I feel more numb than anything else. I sit in the waiting room, texting everyone about what just happened. Derrick is of the opinion that it's a good thing that Lucian shot the robber. But he wasn't there. He didn't see it play out. He doesn't really know what happened—what could have happened.
Few things are more depressing than sitting in a cold waiting room waiting for your boyfriend to get out of jail, especially when you're not sure if it's going to happen or not. No one at the police station is very helpful. I'm told that it may take a while, but I still stick around for two hours before finally deciding to go home. Lucian will understand. More than likely, he'll call Gerald, his limo driver, to come pick him up.
In the few weeks that I've lived with Lucian, it's been rare that I've walked into his house when he wasn't there. It feels bigger somehow, lonelier, like it's swallowing me whole. My eyes dart to the clean walls and new furniture. This is what we've built together. The interior of the house is miles away from how it used to look. Where there was once clutter is now open space. I loved it when we first redecorated, but tonight it feels less homey. Cold, like Lucian's eyes when he shot the robber.
I drearily find my way to the sofa in the living room and sit down, leaning back and just existing for a while. The gunshot is still ringing in my ears, even though it happened hours ago. All I can think about is the blood, the man's soul leaving his body. What if he had a family?
Finally, I allow myself to cry. Wrecking sobs jostle me until I fall over and feel helpless against the torrent of emotions spewing out of me. I'm scared and sorrowful and happy all at the same time. Most of all, I'm alive. I'm alive. Lucian is alive. We're okay. Shouldn't that be all that matters in the end? I think it should be, but I'm not sure.
After crying the poison out of my system, I go to the bedroom to undress. Oddly, I feel like a ghost drifting through the empty house. This is weird and I don't like it. Nothing I've ever experienced before can compare. Perhaps this is just how someone feels when they watch someone die in a horrific manner.
Once I'm undressed, I crawl into bed and hug my pillow, curling up into a little ball. Hopefully, sleep will wash away a lot of the horrible emotions swirling inside of me. This night needs to end.
***
It takes another hour for me to go to sleep. My mind is woefully busy, obsessing over the events of the night. That's to be expected though, I suppose.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I feel Lucian slip into bed beside me. I might have slept through it had he not put his arm around me. Waking up makes me cranky, especially since I'm so exhausted.
For a few brief moments, I forget about what happened. About the robber and the gunshot and the blood. But then consciousness claims me, and it all comes back, carrying many of the same nasty feelings I was experiencing earlier.
“Did I wake you?” Lucian whispers, though it's quite obvious that he had every intention of waking me.
“What time is it?” I roll around to face him, drawing my hand up to my temple and trying to hide the scowl on my face.
“It's almost six.” He takes my hand and pulls it to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss.
I glance over to see him propped up on one elbow. He's naked and looking down at me sleepily.
“What happened?” I nuzzle my head against the pillow, trying to get comfortable. It feels like I could pass back out at any second.
“Not much. They just held me for a while. I spoke to my lawyer. It seems there's going to be a trial, but he's not too worried about anything. It was self-defense. I potentially saved all of those people. Everything should turn out alright.” He lowers himself down onto the bed, keeping eye level with me.
“Did Gerald pick you up?” I stare at him in the darkness.
“Yeah. I tried to call you, but you must have been asleep.” He sounds a bit disappointed.
“Oh shit.” I roll over to grab my phone off of the bedside table. It's not there, which means I must have left it in my purse in the living room. That certainly doesn't earn me any good girlfriend points.
“Don't worry about it.” Lucian shakes his head. “I'm just glad to be home. I'm so fucking tired, and I have a surgery tomorrow. I'm going to be chugging 5 Hour Energy like it is nobody's business.”
“You're not going to call in?” I furrow my brow at him.
“I'm a surgeon, Amy. We don't call in,” he lets out a short laugh.
“Well, yeah, I know,” I hesitate. “But what happened tonight was traumatic. And you've spent pretty much all night in jail.”
“It doesn't matter. I have a job to do.” He yawns, turning onto his stomach, which usually means he's ready to sleep.
For some reason, the fact that he wants to work tomorrow has me wide awake. It bothers me that he seems so nonchalant about everything. Did he forget that he took a man's life?
I know he needs his sleep, but thinking about what happened and his reaction to it all gnaws at me until I can't keep my mouth shut any longer. “What happened tonight doesn't bother you at all?”
He glances at me. “Of course it does.”
“Then why don't you seem fazed by it? You killed someone.”
“You think that's the first life I've taken?” The look he's giving me sends a chill straight to my core, like what happened was just an everyday occurrence to him. Perhaps realizing that his words have upset me, he pushes himself back up into his pre-ready to sleep stance. “Amy, I see blood and guts and gore on a daily basis. And while I've never intentionally killed someone up until last night, I have had a handful of patients die on me. Being a surgeon, I'm conditioned to handle things like this.”
“Oh, that's bullshit.” I frown. “You make it sound like shooting a guy in the back of the head was as easy for you as taking a crap in the morning.”
He gazes down at me. “You know what, it was easy for me. And do you want to know why? Because he had a gun to your head, Amy. You seem to be forgetting that part. He could have killed you, and I wasn't just going to lie there and watch it.”
“You don't know that he was going to pull the trigger.”
He averts his eyes, feeling the heat from the conversation. “You're mad at me for shooting him.”
“No one had to die tonight, Lucian.” I sit up, realizing that sleep isn't going to happen. “You could have just held him down until the police got there.”
“Do I look like a fucking mind reader to you?” He points to himself. “It could have been another hour until the police arrived. What if he would have gotten away from me somehow? The guy was tweaked out and pretty strong for a skinny guy. If he had gotten loose from me, he probably would have killed all of us. I made the call that I thought was right.”
“You had the gun, Lucian. If he had gotten loose, you could have shot him then. He was subdued beneath you. Helpless.”
Lucian lets out an exasperated sigh before grabbing his pillow. “I'll go sleep on the sofa.”
“No.” I clutch at his arm before he has a chance to stand up.
Suddenly, I feel guilty. We both had a tough night. I shouldn't be busting his balls over doing what he thought was right.
“I don't understand what you want from me.” He throws his pillow back in place and lays down with his back to me. It hurts more than I thought it would. We definitely shouldn't be arguing right now, not after everything that happened.
“I just...” I reach out to touch him, my fingertips gently sliding up his arm to his shoulder before recoiling. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying. I've just never seen anything like that before. It traumatized me.”
He rolls over abruptly, and I cower away, fearing his anger. “Well, you know what would have traumatized me? Seeing you dead. I would kill him a thousand times over again to ensure that didn't happen.” His voice is full of passion, his eyes blazing even in the darkness.
A small smile curves my lips, and I caress his face. “I know. I'm sorry. Really, I am.”
“Don't be sorry. Be grateful.” He jerks his face away from me, causing my heart to throb with pain.
“Lucian, I'm sorry. I can't say it enough.” I avert my eyes, wishing I'd never brought it up in the first place. “I just can't help but think, what if he had a family.”
“I don't know if he had a family.” Lucian shrugs. “But do you know who I do know had a family? The people in front of you in line. That mother and child. If I hadn't done something and he would have shot them, it would have been like watching what happened to me all over again. And knowing I could have done something about it, I never would have been able to live with myself.”
So he did think of them. He did think about his family at that moment. Now it makes a lot more sense. In some way, shooting that robber was probably revenge for him.
“One missed opportunity can change a person's life forever, Amy,” Lucian continues.
“And what if he would have shot you? How do you think that would have made me feel?” Tears come to my eyes unbidden. We definitely should have waited to have this conversation. It's too much for me right now.
“Then maybe you would have ended up just as damaged as me. I don't know.” He inhales deeply, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling.
“I'm just glad we're both alright.” I scoot closer to him, cuddling his side.
“Me too.” He kisses me on top of the head. “Things like this make me think about life a lot.”
“Yeah.” I rub my cheek against his chest.
I could be dead right now. We both could be dead. There's so much in life that I've wanted to see and do. The thought that all of that could have been ripped away from me is surreal.
Lucian's fingers press beneath my chin, tilting my face up. His gaze has softened, the anger dissipated. I pucker up receptively, welcoming his kiss, thankful that we're able to share these precious minutes together. Thankful that neither one of us had to come home to the reality that we'd never feel each other's touch again.
His hand cups my cheek, and the kiss becomes more urgent. I match him, tears streaming down my face. It annoys me that I can't seem to stop crying, but I know that I need to surrender to the fact that it might be like this for a while. It will take some time for my mind and body to process everything. Days probably.
I allow Lucian to slip from beneath me, his mouth never leaving mine as he leans me back on the bed. His hand moves from my face down to my right breast. His fingers knead into the flesh there, and I close my eyes and moan softly, intoxicated by his touch. His lips place a tender kiss over my heart before moving down my body.
“I thought you were tired,” I muse as my fingers thread into his hair while he circles his lips around my nipple, his tongue lazily dancing over the small bud and making it perk.
“I suddenly feel less tired,” he mumbles against my skin.
His cock thickens against my thigh, and I can't help but smirk at how quickly he becomes aroused. I lick my lips, enjoying the sensation of his mouth lavishing affection upon my chest. His fingers press between my folds, beckoning for me to spread my legs. I part my thighs ever so slightly for him, allowing him better access. He dips a finger into me, and my central pleasure system turns on, heating up for things to come.
“You're not going to sleep tonight,” I note. If we're going to have sex, then there's no point. He'll just have to get up in an hour anyway.
“Just don't tell my patient that.” He kisses a path to my other breast, giving it equal attention while he pushes his finger in and out of me slowly.
“Your secret is safe with me.” I drop my head to the side, caught somewhere between pleasure and sleep. If I didn't need his touch so badly right now, I'd probably be pushing him off of me.
He sucks my nipple a bit too hard, causing me to wince. The tiny bite of pain does well to wake me up a bit. I watch him move. His eyes are closed, and he looks absolutely dreamy kissing and pleasuring me. It still amazes me at times that I managed to land such a sexy man.
He pulls his finger out of me and presses it to my lips. I wrinkle my nose but open my mouth, sucking my juices from his skin. I feel far too lazy to play this game, but I go along with it anyway, working his finger in my mouth as if it was his cock. He stares at me with a lusty expression, probing my mouth for a few seconds before pulling his finger out and crawling between my legs.
I scoot toward the middle of the bed to give him more room. The moment that I'm settled, he parts my thighs and grabs his dick to line it up for entry. I hold my breath as his glans finds my pussy, then gasp as he forces his way inside. The initial intrusion is always the best, the way that he fills me. I'll probably never fully adjust to his girth. He's big, and I like it.
“Mmm,” I moan, curling my hands around his shoulders.
He kisses my neck, moving slowly, his dick rhythmically thrusting into me. It's one of those love making nights, the kind where he's gentle. I'm glad for it, way too exhausted to handle the rough and tumble that comes when he's feeling especially randy. I like that part of him too though. The part that takes me into his dungeon and shows me new pleasures that I never imagined before, then brings me back into the bedroom and fucks me so hard that I can barely walk the next day. Our sex life is the perfect balance of kinky and loving.
My breathing picks up as I feel the slow build of an orgasm. He angles his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against my clit on occasion, though he's sparing with it, timing everything perfectly so that we come as close together as possible. He's gotten incredibly good at reading my body, and he knows how to control my orgasms. It's kind of frustrating at times, especially when he's in a teasing mood.
That won't happen tonight though. It rarely happens on love making nights. Nights like this are all about us finding that special place together. No seduction, just immersion.
I hold onto him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my mouth opening in an O as he amps up the intensity.
“Don't stop,” I whisper, even though I know he wouldn't stop anyway. I can hear his heavy breathing, that he's almost at his peak.
We ride the wave of sexual bliss together, our bodies crumbling against each other. I buck my hips up to feel his body crushing my clit into submission, and he swells as he spurts into me. It's intoxicating when we climax together—feels like everything that brought us to this point was so totally worth it.
“That was good.” I stroke the nape of his neck as he rests on top of me.
“Just good?” he breathes into my ear though I can tell he's not really offended.
“It's always amazing, love.” I kiss his temple.
“I always want it to be amazing. And I always want it to be with you.”
“I would certainly hope so.” I smile at him as he raises his body.
His eyes are still hooded, though more with affection than lust. “I don't want to think of another second of my life without you.”
My heart floods with warmth from his words. He said once before that he wasn't good at romance, but he's such a liar. Ever since I moved in with him, he's been doing so much to prove otherwise. Buying me flowers. Taking me out on sweet dates. Making me special dinners. I've even come home to a nice hot bath drawn for me.
I caress his cheek, trying to return his appreciative gaze. “I don't want to think of another second of my life without you either.”
“Then marry me.”
My mouth falls agape, and it feels like my heart has burned a hole through my back and the bed and dropped to the floor. Did I just hear him right? Did he really just propose in the afterglow of an orgasm?
“What?” I choke on the word.
“Marry me,” he repeats, then looks away a bit embarrassed. “I know this probably isn't how you pictured getting proposed to, but I don't want to wait. When I was lying there on the floor in the gas station, I thought so many things...especially about my regrets if things came to the worst. One of them was that I never asked you to marry me. So I'm not going to wait. I'm not going to wait another month, another day, another second. Marry me.”
Crap. I had just stopped crying, and now my face faucets have turned back on again. I'm so excited and overwhelmed that I'm shaking.
No, this isn't how I pictured being proposed to, but I can't imagine someone ever saying something more romantic to me. While I was standing in that robber's arms fearing for my life, he was thinking about how he wanted to marry me?
“Yes,” I half sob, half respond, nodding fervently.
“Yes?” he parrots back as if he didn't hear me.
“Yes,” I repeat, throwing my arms around him and practically strangling him against me in a too-tight embrace.
He laughs, and as soon as I loosen my grip on him, he kisses me all over my face. It's the happiest moment of my entire life, and one that I honestly never thought I'd actually get to experience with him.