LUCY

 

I’d just hung up when my phone rang again. It was Mr. King.

Oh thank God!

“What do you plan on doing, Miss Lucy? Are you going to bail him out, if he can even get out?”

My stomach twisted into a large knot. They had to let him free. Killian could not stay in jail. He didn’t deserve to be there. This wasn’t his fault. It was mine.

“I’ll post his bail.”

Mr. King let out a clipped sigh. “I don’t want you to. He deserves to stay locked up.”

“Sir, you’re wrong. Killian doesn’t deserve this. It wasn’t his fault—”

“¡Basta! Don’t you start making excuses for him! My grandson has been in trouble too many times already. I warned him what would happen if he crossed the line and he did it anyways! Killian doesn’t respect my wishes and he’s gone too far! You should’ve never had to be involved like this. For that alone he will answer to me.”

This was going from bad to worse.

“Mr. King, the other man…”

What was I going to say? Attacked first. A lie. My memories were shot, but I wasn’t 100% sure how Killian got a hold of him. I was too busy beating the shit out of him. Still, Carter did get off a push, and I fell back, but Killian didn’t have to jump in over that.

Right?

But I got involved, fighting because I didn’t know what else to do with my rage, and now…now everything was ruined. I ruined it like I always did.

Clearing my throat, I said the bit of truth I could. “The other man provoked Killian—”

Mr. King grunted. “And my grandson was innocently minding his own business? It would be a first. I’m sure he did provoke the situation.”

“He didn’t. Honest.”

“Then how did Killian end up getting arrested, hmm?”

“Because…because he was only fighting because…” My throat closed up. I was afraid to tell Mr. King how I lost all control and attacked Carter. What would Mr. King think of me?

“I know very well what my grandson was trying to do. He thought to impress you and ended up in jail for it.”

This was it. The punishment I deserved was coming and I had to brace myself. No changing the channel this time. Full on blast.

“I’m sorry, Mr. King.”

“Don’t apologize! You are not in the wrong here.” He let out an aggravated breath. “I should’ve warned you more during our interview.”

“You warned me, sir. I don’t regret taking the job. At least, tonight doesn’t change anything. It was nice until…well, what I’m trying to say is that Killian only got into that fight because I…I mean…”

Stuck my nose where it didn’t belong. Let my hurt and fury over this Gisella cloud my mind. Picked an easy target in Carter when I really wanted to lay into Killian.

I babbled when I didn’t tell the truth or when I didn’t want to tell the truth. It was a poor tell and one that would’ve eventually gotten me killed if I hadn’t changed paths.

“He did it for me, Mr. King. He was trying to keep me safe.”

Killian’s grandfather didn’t say anything. The seconds marched by, matching my heartbeat.

“You wouldn’t be in that situation if it wasn’t for him.”

“Forgive me, Mr. King, but that’s not true. You weren’t there. You can’t know Killian’s intention. I saw him and I know he didn’t want this to happen. He wasn’t looking for trouble. It just…it just happened.”

Mr. King didn’t probe further as I’d hoped. “You’re still planning on bailing him out?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have that kind of money, Miss Lucy?”

I didn’t. I needed every dollar I’d saved.

“Hopefully, it’ll be enough.”

“¡Dios mio! I can’t win. You are going to do two things for me. One, a driver will pick you up and bring you to my home. Two, keep your money.”

Hope lit up like a firefly. Fleeting, sporadic, but there.

“Does this mean you’re going to bail Killian out?”

“For the last time. He should thank you.”

Relief poured right over me. Pressure eased just enough for me to crack a wobbly smile. “He will.”

“Don’t count on it. Now tell me where you are.”

I gave Mr. King my location, grateful a driver was immediately dispatched. I didn’t know where Jorge was, but I assumed he was at the precinct. Once we got off the phone, I walked over to the row of shops and leaned my back against a brick wall. People streamed by, but no one looked over.

Good.

I needed to be ignored.

My shoulders ached. So did my wrists and elbows. Funny how I felt the pain too every time I hurt someone with my fists. Probably worse. Studying my hands, I saw I’d broken three nails. One all the way into the nail bed. The blood was already dry.

Adrenaline had long left my body, leaving me in an aftermath filled with regret and something worse—the desire to do it again.

No, that can’t be right.

First making sure no one could take advantage of my come down, I sifted through my feelings. I definitely didn’t want to go back to that time where I was more animal than human.

Fighting just to fight. Enjoying the pain, mine or theirs, and just wanting to forget everything beneath a wash of blood. Victory in defeating anyone who came at me, victory in surviving anyone who beat me to my knees—it was all that was left to me once my mother entered the ground.

My great-aunts threw me out not too long afterwards. Perhaps it wasn’t what I deserved, but I definitely courted it.

They saw this in me. The desire to unleash my pain on everyone and everything around me.

Tonight was no different. It was like the old and new me melded, becoming more dangerous than before. Before I just wanted to hurt because I hurt. Tonight I wanted to hurt to punish.

What’s Killian going to think of me now?

Cigarette smoke teased my nostrils along with the smell of alcohol. A laughing foursome passed by me, oblivious to the dried blood on my hands. I looked normal enough, harmless even.

But Killian saw someone different. He’d never be able to un-see it.

Un-see me.