Chapter Eight
Lia
My last class finishes earlier than normal, and I am stopping by the apartment to change clothes before going back to Lucian’s to finish up for the day. To my surprise, his cabinets have been well-stocked as if he actually has meals at his apartment instead of eating out every evening. My plan is to fix a simple dinner of shrimp pasta. Pasta in all forms is something I am well-acquainted with; it is easy, quick, and cheap.
I drop my book bag and walk to my bedroom when a knock sounds at the door. More than likely, it’s someone looking for Marissa next door. I have my suspicions as to why she is so popular, but who am I to judge? Several times a week, we have mostly men knocking at our door, looking for her apartment. At first, I wouldn’t answer the door when I didn’t recognize the person through the peep-hole. After a while, though, it just seemed easier to point them in the right direction to prevent it happening each time they visited. For safety, we always keep the chain firmly in place and speak through the small opening.
Another stranger looks back at me through the small glass, and I shake my head as I crack the door open. “Marissa is next door in 5B.”
Before I can shut the door, I hear the person ask, “Miss Adams?” Wow, I so wasn’t expecting that; it’s a rare day I have visitors.
Uneasy, I reply, “Can I help you with something?”
“Are you Lia Adams?” Well, crap, I don’t know whether to answer or not. Curiosity finally gets the better of me.
“Yes, who are you?” I instinctively take the envelope he thrusts through the opening.
“You’ve been served.” I stare after his retreating back, wondering what’s going on. The white envelope weighs heavily in my hand as I pull it slowly through the doorway. The university has never hand-delivered mail before. If they suddenly feel the need, then it can’t be good news. The only writing on the front is my name in printed form.
I shut the door behind me and carry the envelope like a bomb to our small kitchen table. I drop it in front of me, staring for a moment. Shit, this is so silly. Just open the damn thing and get it over with. What could it possibly be? Maybe I have some seriously-overdue book from the library or something. Impatiently, I rip open the flap and unfold the single enclosed paper. As I skim the official-looking document, I feel my heart stop for one brief moment. No, surely I have read it wrong. Taking my time, I read back through the jumble of words once again before dropping weakly into the nearby chair.
PLANTIFF: MARIA ADAMS DAWSON VS DEFENDANT: JIM NELSON DAWSON. YOU ARE HEREBY SUMMONED to appear. The words on the paper leap out at me as my head swims. I haven’t seen or spoken to my mother or stepfather since leaving home four years ago. Dear God, what is going on with them? Why is my mother going to court against her husband, and why am I being dragged into it?
There is only one person who might possibly be able to find out. Debra, my friend and previous boss, has a connection through her boyfriend. Martin’s brother Eli works with Jim at a tire factory, or he had the last time I heard. Almost in a panic, I punch in Debra’s number and pray she will answer.
“Lia? Where the hell have you been, honey?” This is Debra’s usual greeting, and I smile despite my apprehension. I love this woman like the mother I never had, and I know she loves me, as well. Her only complaint is I don’t see her as often as either of us would like.
“Hey, Deb. It’s so good to hear your voice, you have no idea.” She knows me well and immediately picks up on the strain in my voice.
“What’s wrong, honey? Do you need me? I can be there in just a few minutes.” Closing my eyes, I feel a tear slip out. She gives me everything and never asks for anything in return. I don’t see or talk to her as often as I used to, but I know that with one phone call, she would drop what she is doing and come to me.
“Have you heard anything from Martin about my mother?” I can tell by her silence that she is shocked by my question.
“No, he hasn’t mentioned anything. Why?”
“Something is going on with her and Jim. I was served papers today requiring I show up in court at the end of the month.” Picking the paper up, I read her the rest of the summons. The whole thing still feels unreal to me. The one time I hear from them, and it’s something like this.
“Son of a bitch,” she spits out the curse, her voice vibrating with anger. “I don’t know what those two fuckups are involved in now, but I’m going to find out. Just sit tight, honey, and try not to worry about it. I’ll call Martin and see if he can get some answers. You know I will be with you every step of the way. Those monsters can’t hurt you, Lia; I would never let that happen again.” She gives me more words of comfort laced with insults for my mother and stepfather before ending the call. I’m sure the line was barely free before she was calling Martin. If anyone can find out what is going on, it’s Debra.
I would love nothing better than to crawl in my bed and have the nervous breakdown I feel beating at my door, but I don’t want to slack on my first day of work. Lucian would understand if I said I wasn’t feeling well, but getting out of here right now can only help the panic I’ve been feeling since receiving the damned summons. Quickly, I gather my things and run to my Honda as if afraid more bad news will befall me. Luckily, that’s not the case, and I navigate through the heavy afternoon traffic to arrive back at Lucian’s around three. The same vehicles are parked in the garage with no sign of Sam and the Mercedes.
The last load of laundry has been put away, and I’m arranging ingredients for dinner when my phone rings. I see Debra’s name on the caller ID and answer quickly. I barely get out a greeting before she starts talking. “Lia, you aren’t going to believe this. Are you sitting down, honey?” She sounds worried, which in turn freaks me out; Debra is normally unflappable, so it must be bad.
“Go ahead, Deb.” I slip onto a barstool at the counter and brace myself.
“That asshole beat the hell out of your mother, and she has either wised up or is just trying to stick it to him. She filed charges against him for abuse, and I think they are summoning you as a witness for her. She must have told them you had seen him beat her. She probably also told them he had done the same to you.”
“Oh, my God!” Not only am I going to have to face him in the courtroom, but now everyone would know what he had done to me; everyone would see the scar, the damage. I feel sick to my stomach. Bile rises in my throat, and I literally gag on it. I hear Debra yelling my name in the background as the phone clatters to the floor. My hands cover my face as my body trembles in fear. I am so caught up in my terror I never hear the door open or the footsteps until someone touches my shoulders, causing a scream to escape from my throat.
“Lia, baby, what’s wrong?” I struggle against the hold until I recognize Lucian’s face, full of concern, looking at me. Without thinking, I launch myself from the chair and into his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls me against him, murmuring, “Shhh…baby.” Still holding me, he reaches down to pick up my phone lying near his feet. I pay little attention as he speaks briefly to Debra. I know she must be shocked to hear a man on my phone, and I absently vow to call her back later to explain.
Lucian pulls back a little to look me over, probably searching for signs of injury. Seeming satisfied that there is no blood, he gives me another moment before asking, “What’s happened to get you so upset?” Mutely, I reach for the summons and hand it to him. He skims it before looking at me in question.
“Its…it’s from my mother and stepfather. He…hurt her, and she is pressing charges.” Choking on a sob, I add, “They are going to make me testify against him, about what he did to her and me.” Lucian bites off a curse before pulling me back into his arms. After seeing my scar that morning, there is no way he can miss the fear I feel.
“I’ll give this to my lawyer tomorrow and find out what in the hell is going on, okay? I won’t let that bastard hurt you. Please believe that.” Sinking further into his strong arms, I let his words wash over me. I relax for the first time since reading the summons, feeling some of my fear lessen. This beautiful man is offering me protection; when has that ever happened to me before? Even my own mother doesn’t give a damn whether I live or die. I have no idea how she even knew my address to have me served. “Now,” he says against the crown of my head, “I’m starving; how about we go out for dinner?” I think about the clothes I’m wearing and fight the urge to ask him if there is a Burger King nearby.
His arms drop as I step back. Putting on a smile that is still forced, I say, “I was planning to fix dinner to impress my new boss. I already have everything laid out if you’ll give me half an hour.” He looks over the items I have on the counter before opening a wood panel that conceals a large wine cooler. He studies several different bottles before selecting one.
I fully expect him to go relax in the living room, so I’m pleasantly surprised when he says instead, “I’m going to go change clothes, I’ll be back to help in just a moment.” I shake myself from my staring-at-Lucian daze and pull a skillet and sauce pan out of the cabinet for the shrimp, pasta, and cream sauce. Thankfully, Rose has shown me how to make homemade Alfredo since there are no jarred sauces in Lucian’s cabinets. I have just pulled a red and green bell pepper from the refrigerator when he returns in jeans and a worn-looking Bon Jovi shirt. My mouth waters, and my body hums; Rose is right, he is a walking wet dream, and I am like an animal in heat around him. As he turns to get wine glasses, I ogle his taut ass, my hands tingling with the urge to cup his cheeks. His dark hair curls against his neckline, and I remember how it feels to have my fingers buried in its silky softness. When he is facing forward again, my eyes drop to the outline of his big cock nestled against one leg. Oh, sweet mother, my panties are wet and getting wetter. When his fingers snap in front of my eyes, I lift my eyes from his crotch. His sexy grin assures me he knows exactly what was on my mind. What is happening to me? I have never been a cock-gawker. The man has been home less than an hour, and I am staring at his package; somehow, I don’t think that is part of my job description.
He chuckles behind me as I spin around, trying to hide my embarrassment and get a grip on my libido. He puts a wine glass down next to my hand, and I mutter a sheepish, “Thanks,” before turning back to the stove.
“What can I do to help? Do these peppers need chopping?” Now, that I wasn’t expecting: Lucian offering to help with dinner. Personally, I am all for throwing the whole meal in the trash and begging him to fuck me against the stainless steel appliances, but nowhere in the word ‘housekeeper’ does it spell slut, so I keep those thoughts to myself.
“Er…yes, that would be great. I’m making shrimp pasta, so I’m going to sauté those in olive oil before mixing them with the shrimp.” I continue explaining the entire meal to him before I realize I am rambling. He listens to me attentively, although I’m sure he couldn’t give a crap as to how long shrimp cook before they are ready.
We have just settled at the bar on our stools, and I’m taking my first bite when he asks as casually as you would mention the weather, “Do you have a vibrator?” My fork clatters back into my plate as I look at him in disbelief. He takes a moment to chew and swallow before looking at me. “What? It’s a simple question.” I have no idea how the man can continue calmly eating while asking me such a personal question. My first inclination is to tell him to shove it… unless he is open to equal sharing.
“If I answer your question, will you answer one for me?”
With no hesitation, he says, “Within reason, yes.” I have no idea if my question is considered reasonable, but if he doesn’t answer it, I won’t answer any other questions he might have.
Picking up my fork, I spear a piece of penne pasta before answering. “Yes, I do.” He shows no surprise at my answer, and I quickly ask my own. “Have you slept with Monique?”
“Yes,” he answers as he pops a shrimp in his mouth. I’m not sure what surprises me more, that he has slept with Cruella or that he admitted it. Really, I already knew the answer before I asked; Monique is too possessive of him without there being more involvement, even though he seems to feel nothing for her in return. “How long were you with the guy you slept with?”
Ugh, why did I agree to this little question-and-answer session, and why does he care about my sexual history? It’s obviously nowhere near as busy as his. I debate shutting it down, but dammit, I want to know more about him, and I have a feeling this is the easiest way to go about it. He already knows I don’t have much experience, so it’s not like I am revealing shocking facts. Somehow, it is still embarrassing to admit. “It just happened one time.” It appears I now have his undivided attention. You would think I have just admitted to having two vaginas. Clearing my throat, I add, “It’s my turn again. How many times have you slept with Monique?” Shit, why do I keep harping on that? Wasn’t knowing he slept with her enough? Do I need details? Yes, it appears I do.
He raises his glass, taking a drink of the wine before answering. “Just the once and before you ask, it was one time too many. Monique is very…aggressive, which is fine in bed, but I quickly grew tired of her palming my cock every time our paths cross. I started to get the feeling she’d bite the fucking thing off if necessary to get what she wanted.” He surprises me by trailing a finger over my lips. “Please feel free to palm, lick, or suck me anytime you want, anywhere you want, sweet Lia.” I don’t need a lot of sexual experience to suspect I could come right where I sit, with no clitoral stimulation. Sexy, casual Lucian is deadly, and I want to puddle at his feet in a needy heap. “I believe it’s my turn now,” he says as he removes his hand to continue eating. “Why was it just the once? You’re a beautiful, sexy, responsive woman. Did he not take care of you?”
Closing my eyes briefly, I wonder why I’ve let this continue. This is going to be a humiliating admission. “I…it was my first time, so it was uncomfortable and over pretty quickly. He thought something was wrong with me…when he saw my back.” It was Lucian’s turn to drop his fork. He appears angry as he stares at me.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Did that bastard say something to you?”
Tracing my fingers over the granite of the countertop, I say, “He acted like I was some kind of freak. He…left and then told his friends I had something. Jake, my roommate’s boyfriend, was so angry; he knew what had happened to me from Rose.” Lucian’s chair scrapes back, and he is at my side. I continue to look down, mortified that someone as perfect as Lucian would know of my shame.
“Lia, look at me.” Reluctantly, I obey, seeing the fire simmering in his eyes. “You don’t have anything to feel bad about. Everyone has scars; some are visible and some aren’t. This punk didn’t deserve to be your first. He had no interest in pleasing and putting you first. Don’t waste a fucking thought on him; he isn’t worth it.” I can’t stop myself from climbing into his big arms. He is warm, strong, and smells panty-meltingly divine. I want to take my tongue and lick every inch of his body. Before I can put that plan into action, he pulls back, looking down at me.
“Hey, don’t you owe me another question?” I tease. He nods in agreement, and the scar on his neckline catches my attention. I run my finger across it, feeling his body stiffen. “How did this happen? Were you in an accident?” He freezes before pulling abruptly away.
“I have some work to do tonight. I’m going out of town tomorrow for a few days. You have your key, so you can come and go as your schedule allows. There shouldn’t be much to do here while I’m away, so don’t worry if you have schoolwork to do. He points at the dishes, adding, “I’ll clean this up later. Let me walk you down to your car.” He hasn’t looked at me through his entire speech, and I am reeling. I don’t think it was a coincidence that he is all but throwing me out the door after I questioned him about the mark on his neck.
“I can clean the kitchen before I leave. It won’t take long,” I offer.
“Just leave it,” he snaps before taking a deep breath. “Can you just do as I ask?”
“Okay,” I answer, walking out of the kitchen to find my handbag still sitting in the foyer. He follows quietly, opening the door for me. The ride in the elevator to the parking garage is silent, and I fidget with the strap of my bag. If not for my job with him, I fear I would never see him again; of course, there is no guarantee I will. As I unlock my car door, I mumble, “I’ll see you when you get home.” I cringe knowing it came out more like a question than a statement. He leans over and kisses my forehead, and I fight the urge to cry; he is putting distance between us. Even a quick peck on the lips would have been preferable to the platonic kiss he has given me.
“Be careful,” he says as I shut my door. I give him a half-hearted wave and back out of the space. When I pull onto the road, he is still standing where I left him, looking down toward the ground with his hands in his pockets. He looks like a little boy at that moment, and I wonder what has happened in his past to make him shut down so quickly. With so many issues of my own, I find it hard to believe that I have developed some sort of dysfunctional relationship with a man who is also chasing demons. Damn, couldn’t I have found a Jake? Someone who treats me well, doesn’t have baggage, and does all the normal, uncomplicated boyfriend things? There is one thing I know for sure: if I do hear from Lucian again and continue down this unknown road, things will never be normal because we are both fucked-up. Even knowing that, I will be waiting, praying I hear from him again.
Rose texts me just as I’m parking my car near our apartment; she is around the corner at Starbucks and wants me to meet her there. My fingers have already tapped out an excuse when I think better of it. Tonight, I need a friend, and I think it’s time to tell her what’s been going on with Lucian. She has more experience with men than I do, and I could use the advice. I let her know I’m on my way and in moments, I enter the campus Starbucks and see her waving from the back. “I know it’s doing nothing but putting extra fat on our asses, but we are having a frappe tonight instead of the usual low-calorie shit.”
“Amen,” I say as I grab the frappe and drink enough to cause a brain freeze. “Boy, I needed that,” I sigh gratefully.
“A drink and a smoke would probably be better, but you gotta work with what you have.” I study Rose, noting my normally-unflappable friend looks disheveled. She is even chewing her nails which is a no-no for someone who pays a small fortune for regular manicures. Have I been wrong about Jake being the perfect boyfriend?
“So…what’s got you committing death by frozen drink? Is everything okay with Jake?” When she actually blushes, I’m dying to know what has happened.
Even though it kills me, I give her a few minutes to fidget before she finally blurts out, “Jake wants to try anal sex!” Wow, I wasn’t expecting that at all. First, I’m rather surprised Rose is so appalled, since she seems pretty free where their sex life is concerned. Second, I never pictured Jake being that adventurous. It’s not really the conversation so much as the position of the players that throws me; I can totally picture Rose trying to pressure Jake into it.
“Hmmm, okay…and you aren’t into it?” She looks at me, surprised by my reaction. She seems to expect me to fall to the ground, shrieking in horror. While I’ve never had anal sex, nor have any desire to, it’s just a minor blip on my radar. When you were raised in a living hell, consenting sex between couples is minor and not a big deal. Jake, at least, cares for her enough to talk to her about it first instead of trying to force her; at least, I think so. “Did he try to make you do it or just let you know he was interested?”
I am relieved to hear her say, “Duh, Jake would never do something like that. He just…wants to give it a try. I guess some of those shithead jocks he hangs out with have all been bragging about how great it is. Now he seems to believe he is missing out on something.”
Taking her hand, I say honestly, “If you don’t want to try then just tell him. Jake cares about you and even though it might be something he wants, he will understand if you don’t.”
She gives me a curious look, asking, “Would you do it?” Before I can plead ignorance, she spells it out, “If a guy wanted to have anal sex with you, would you do it?”
I’m blushing; I can feel the heat rushing up my cheeks. “I…don’t know…maybe. It depends on the person and I guess whether I really trusted them.”
“You bitch!” I almost jump out of my chair. People near us stare as she yells, “You had sex again and didn’t tell me!”
Slinking lower in my seat, I hiss, “Why don’t you say it louder, I don’t think the people on the sidewalk heard you!”
“Fuck-sticks,” she says in a lower voice. “I knew something was going on with you. It’s the God, isn’t it? You’ve been all over the place since you went out with him.” In true Rose-style, she jumps quickly to the hard stuff. “How is he? Does he fuck as good as he looks? Does he have a big cock? Is he into kink? Oh, shit, did you do anal with him? Is that why you are on Jake’s side?”
Wishing the floor would swallow me up, seems to be getting me nowhere. I close my eyes, but when I open them again, she is still sitting there looking like a rabid dog. There is no way she is letting me off the hook until I answer her questions. So, I take them from the top, saying, “Good, yes, oh yes, maybe, and no.” It takes her a moment to match my answers with her questions, and I see the moment she does.
“Oh, yummy, he is hung. You lucky thing. Jake has a big one, too, but it’s not huge. So, like, do you two do normal-couple stuff or just have sex?”
“I’ve known the man less than two weeks, so there is no couple involved. We have gone out to dinner, if that counts.”
Her smile widens as she says, “So, let me get this straight: my mostly-virginal friend is having a fuckionship?”
“A what?” I sputter out.
“A fuckionship. You know, a relationship that is only about fucking. There ain’t no shame in it, babe; I’d roll over and spread my legs for a man like that, too, and I haven’t even seen him in person. Wait…is he one of those guys who is good from far, but far from good? Photographs like Chris Hemsworth, but looks like a troll in person?”
She is so serious, it sends me off in a fit of giggles. “No…” I gasp out. “He is beautiful. His chest, sweet mother, I could lick it for hours. And Rose…he has a tattoo.”
Rose drops her head on the table dramatically. “Now you’re just being mean. Hey, do you think he would be interested in a threesome?”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “Really? You don’t want to do anal with your boyfriend, but you want to have a threesome with someone you’ve never met?”
“Don’t judge me, tramp…Wait, I know, it’s crooked isn’t it? There is no way he is gorgeous, hung and rich. Does it have a wart on it? Hairy?”
Rolling my eyes at her, I say, “Give it up. Other than a scar across his throat, the man is perfect. I have no idea what he sees in me. I’m probably his ‘good from far, but far from good.’”
“A scar? Maybe he cut himself shaving. Jake has come close to bleeding out a few times when he was too cheap to replace his razor.”
I ponder just letting it go, but I want to talk to her about how Lucian reacted when I asked him about the scar. “It’s not something he could have gotten from shaving. It goes almost from ear to ear. It doesn’t look recent, but it must have been a really bad cut. I…asked him about it earlier, and he just froze. It got really tense and then he ended the evening quickly. There is a story there, but I understand enough not to push it. He was really great about my back and about the court papers.”
Rose is in the middle of nodding when her eyes widen. “Whoa, what about court papers; what the hell are you talking about?” Had it really just been hours since I was served papers by my absent mother? I haven’t even had a chance to tell my best friend.
“When I came home to change clothes today, some guy knocked on the door and served me papers. I called Debra in a panic and found out my stepfather beat my mother up, and she is pressing charges against him this time. I would have been impressed with that if she wasn’t dragging me into it. I have to go to court to testify about what a monster he is. I’m not sure how that is possible without admitting she is, as well.”
Rose puts her hand over mine, gently stopping my fingers from digging into my palm. “Honey, I’m so sorry. That fucking blows. I can’t believe that bitch is doing this to you. Even a dog takes care of their puppies better than that wacko took care of you. I’m so going to go to court with you and kick her ass!” This is one of those moments when I realize how lucky I am to have Rose in my life. She is crude and irreverent, but she would defend and protect me until the end. After a lifetime of being loved by no one, it is still hard for me to accept that someone could care for me. I am so used to handling everything on my own.
“Luc said he would have his lawyer find out what was going on. He promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” I wait for Rose to jump on this statement, but she simply smiles.
“Well, Lucian…or Luc sounds okay in my book. When can I meet him?” She holds up her hand as if she is taking the witness stand and says, “I pledge to ogle him discreetly. He will never notice when I stare at his ass and his crotch. This will be a total covert mission. I’m just doing this for you.”
“Yeah, right,” I smirk. “He’s going out of town for a few days, so I’m not sure when he will be back. Besides, it’s not really normal between us. I don’t see him doing a double-date.”
“The man is only twenty-nine, Lia; it’s not like he is a senior citizen or something. He has to have fun sometime.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised that she knows his age, but I have to ask. “How do you know how old he is?”
She raises a brow as if to say ‘come on’. “I googled him, of course. The man is seriously loaded, and there are like a bazillion hits on him. He’s not much for the dog-and-pony show, though. I guess Asheville isn’t exactly the hub of socializing, but you would think there would be more pictures of him in a tux with some stick-figure woman on his arm. But there really aren’t. There is mostly stuff about his charities and what a walking brainiac he is. If he is a man-whore, he does it out of the spotlight.”
Thinking of Lucian with other women makes me want to throw something. Not a good sign when you’re just in a ‘fuckionship’, as Rose calls it. For all I know, he may have rushed me out the door tonight because he had other plans. I know next to nothing about him… well, other than the fact that he fucked Monique. Some part of me understands how she must feel seeing me with him. Wouldn’t I turn into a Class –A bitch if that happened to me? He treats her as if she means less than nothing to him. I have to accept the fact that I could be her in the possibly-near future.