Chapter 27

"We need to do your hair now. You can go to the shower for that. It'll be easier to clean and can be done more thoroughly. Can you do that on your own or do you want me to help you?"

I nodded, still very dazed. "I think I can do it."

He had the Jacuzzi drained before I knew it and he was standing. He looked down at where I was still sitting. Dripping wet as well, he bent down and wrapped an arm around my back softly. "Are you okay to move?"

I nodded again and when he stood back up, I forced my feet to work with him. It was really hard to do since my legs hurt worse than I thought. I groaned and bit my lip. He left my side when we stood and stepped out of the Jacuzzi, leaving me standing there on shaky legs. I got a chance to really look at him. His plain shirt was soaked and so was his pair of old looking shorts. They were more than wet though. As he stood there, the water that ran down his arms and legs were tinted slightly red; I knew I looked much worse. He stood there, not a glance offered to the dripping mess he was making, and he outstretched his hand towards me to help me out.

"Can you step out and walk?"

I nodded again but was really unsure, still unable to say much of anything after those words. I was able to stand but could feel my legs growing weak. When I tried stepping out, my legs shook violently and I nearly fell back into the huge tub. He was ready though and cautious; Luke was quick to lean forward and wrap his strong arm around me and hold me up, forcing my chest to his. His arm around my back, I felt his other go to my thighs. He helped drag me out of the Jacuzzi, all the while I was fully pressed against him. He was quick to move the few feet to the regular tub in this fancy bathroom. I felt bad he was doing so much for me over getting beaten, just to clean me up. But there was just so much blood.

He helped me sit down in the tub. "Your legs are too sore and still in shock from what happened. I'll do it. Just relax."

He started the warm water from where he was kneeling outside the tub. He pulled me up more until I was siting cross legged again, this time my back to the side that wasn't covered by the glass door. He started the shower and grabbed the shower head. It was long enough for when where I was, thankfully. Luke knelt behind me, outside of the tub on the tile. My back to him in the tub, this would be done much easier.

Before he did anything, he rested the spraying head - that's what she said - against the side to free his hands. Something touched my hair and I realized he was taking the band out. He let my hair fall from my bun a moment later. I tried reaching behind me to help but it resulted in a sharp pain running up my neck.

"Let me take care of it," he said. And he did. He washed my hair from where he knelt behind me. From the angle in which he was washing my hair, from outside of the tub, the water was getting all over the bathroom. But soon, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling; seeing as he didn't care, I didn't either.

My head was hit hard today and I was sore. But his fingers that were working in my hair felt so amazing and relaxing. He massaged my head and ran his hands through my long hair. Though my eyes were shut, I knew the water was now running red. It took awhile just rinsing my hair of it.

We were silent as he did this. I figured he was just rinsing my long hair out but I didn't object when he continued after. I felt the water stop and knew he set the hanging shower head aside for a moment. The next thing I heard was a small snap of a bottle and then felt his hands back in my hair with a cool cream. He was shampooing my hair - and I was more than happy to sit patiently as he did that. It felt so good, shivers running up my skin even though the water was so hot and causing the mirrors to steam. After he rinsed my hair out, he then repeated that process but with conditioner this time.

After that was over and he rinsed my hair, he helped me stand up. Though it was hard to stand, I was able to manage. I knew I could stand for at least a couple minutes so I was able to rinse the rest of my body off by myself (unfortunately). He left for a minute to get me fresh clothes and when he was gone in that second, I stripped off my stained camisole and shorts, which took a little effort in removing. I continued to stand there after rinsing, under the raining water in just my bra and panties. It felt good to be fully rinsed of blood now. I slowly shut the water off when done.

Before I could grab the towel though, Luke came back and in sight. When his eyes fell on me, his cheeks heated and his eyes even lingered when he looked me over. But he quickly turned the other way just as I snatched the towel a little late. Looking to the floor, he said quickly before I could apologize, "Dry off then do you think you can handle getting dressed? Or will you need help?"

Oh shit. It was hard just standing at times. I wasn't sure. I honestly wouldn't mind him helping me with that but with how I was feeling after his words still rung strong... that wouldn't help in keeping my attraction to a minimum. "I should be able to handle it."

He offered me his hand and helped me out slowly this time. He left for a minute and I was glad I was able to accomplish that myself, drying off and changing. I didn't feel that much better seeing that I was still hurting and sore like a bitch. But it was a small relief that I was very thankful for. He even helped rinse my mouth out until the taste of blood was mostly gone.

"How are things going?" I heard a new voice, just as we were about to leave the bathroom. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I was holding Luke's arm for support and my fingers tightened without thinking. I glanced to Clare as she stood in the door, a sympathetic look aimed at me. "Are you feeling better, darling?"

I couldn't help my words. "I am now. I understand why the Jacuzzi was such a necessity for sex now. Nice way to make up for a shitty day if you ask me," I said, happy when I saw Clare's expression change, reveal the real thing. Hate and disgust rolled over her as she looked to me.

"Don't you ever say anything like that again!" she yelled at me, scowl on her face. "You're not funny, you're not all of a sudden a cool little badass kid. Grow up and respect me and Luke!"

My eyes widened. This was the first time she snapped like that, with that amount of disgust behind those words - and with him around. That was pretty bad to say to me in front of Luke. Especially when she is expected to understand that I have somewhat of a right to say that. And especially after what I went through today. But more importantly, it was a bad thing to say especially when Luke was the one to clean me up and not her.

"Clare..." Luke said in disgust. Looking up at him, his eyes said enough. He's been lost since the day I came home. And now, as my time here grows, so does the likelihood of a divorce. Luke wasn't happy anymore. He shouldn't have to try to be happy. If he had to try, what does that alone say?

She forced the facade back into place. But it was too late. "Luke, I was just--"

Luke guided me with slow steps out of the bathroom. "Not now, Clare," he growled. You could tell he wanted to really yell at her but he didn't. Leaving her standing there, he seemed to rush me a little until we were in my room. He shut the door behind him and helped me onto my bed. Climbing under my covers, I moved my pillow behind me and sat up against the headboard, looking to him. He stood there with gentle eyes on me.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a dinosaur sat on me and broke all my bones. Then took a shit on me."

His lips tilted up slightly and he chuckled under his breath. He had quickly changed when I was getting dressed and now, he was wearing one of his muscle shirts and khaki shorts. It was still daylight but I could tell neither of us wanted to leave my room, maybe him most of all. He didn't want to face her. It seemed as if he was pissed off at her even before what she said a few minutes ago.

He dug something out of his pocket and came to stand at the side of my bed so he could hand it to me. It was a little pill. "This might help with the bone breaking part."

"Hmm, deja-vu," I said, taking it.

He smiled and sighed. "Yeah. But this time, you're not handcuffed to your bed."

"Well, results are the same. I can't move." I took the pill in the next minute. Looking back up to him, I saw his eyes were sad again. "Is there anything else you need?" he asked.

I thought for a minute. "Besides the obvious that you have come to expect when asking that question, no I think I'm good," I joked.

He nodded but continued standing there. It was apparent he really didn't want to leave. He glanced back to the door, biting his lip. Sighing, he looked back to me. "Uh... are you sure?"

I chuckled. "You can stay in here."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

I became aware of my wet hair dampening my shirt from where it rested against my back. It was a wet mess and I hadn't brushed it yet. Looking around my room, I saw the comb on my dresser. "Can you hand me my comb?"

"I'll do it," he said. "You felt pain when you reached behind your head as I was about to begin washing your hair. I don't want you feeling hurt any more."

Five minutes later, I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed with Luke behind me, slowly combing out my hair. It was a strange day between the two of us. It was a little awkward too at how close we seemed to be. Naturally, before he started brushing my hair, I was about to make a few jokes that would go against the idea. But his words from a while ago came back to me. The ones still ringing within me and I wasn't sure what to make of them and why they triggered this feeling. He said that it was okay to be sad and that I should let him be. He also told me several days ago that he could see through my mask and me trying to show my tough side. There was no point in trying to hide and no reason. And I guess I was starting to listen, which is crazy because I don't usually listen well.

My eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling it brought as he combed my hair. Isn't it strange how when you comb your own hair, you don't really feel much? But if someone else combs your hair, it feels awesome. Sparks flew up from my roots and through my head, even down my back. I felt my lips tip up slightly at feeling his fingers collect all my hair together before running the comb through. The only sound that existed was our breath and the birds. A soft breeze ran over us from my opened window. It was getting dark. I always loved this time of day for some reason.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked quietly as he continued.

I sighed. I really didn't want to think about it let alone talk about it. I was able to shove it out of my mind this whole time so far. But I knew as a cop he wanted answers. "I was beat up."

He sighed, his fingers brushing over my ears. "But why?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"I stole from them before I left town a year ago. They found out I was home, they wanted to show me how much they missed me."

"How much did you take from them? And did you know them or was it just random?"

"I stole from several of my old friends. I would assume that I stole a couple thousand from them all together. So I kind of deserved what I got."

He was silent for a few minutes. He has been combing for a while now and worked out all the snarls and knots since my hair was bound to have them with how thick and wavy it was. But even after my hair was okay, he kept combing it in that pattern.

"Is there a reason you won't tell me their names?"

"Yeah." I paused, pursing my lips in thought. Should I tell him about what happened? Did it matter? It was in the past.

The soft breeze that swept through my room comforted me and I was able to go on, knowing I was safe. "Once a few years ago, one of my friends broke into my old boss' house. He was a very nice man. He didn't care about my reputation and liked me for how well I was in keeping his little store clean and helping him. He was nearing his 80s and I even offered to take care of him every now and then but he refused and said he was fine. He was just so nice. He was really my only friend that I trusted and liked for a little while. One day, this guy I hung around with robbed him and assaulted him. Just because they remembered me talking about him. He lived but barely. Anyway, I was so fucking pissed off, I went to the cops and told them who my friend was that did this. They arrested him but my other friends... they didn't like that I called the cops on him, not one bit. We were all friends I guess you could say so to them, it looked as if I betrayed all of them. They beat me up really bad; much worse than today. I know some even wanted to kill me but someone was smart enough to decide for the rest against it." I took a deep breath and realized his hand slowed to a stop when combing. "After that, they forgave me after a really long time. Nothing a beating can't solve I guess. But if I were to tell the cops again, and on more than one person... I don't want to think about what will happen to me."

"I won't let them touch you," he said. I looked behind me at his outraged expression. "That's.... How can you deal with that so calmly?" he asked, seeing my rather neutral expression.

I chuckled softly. "That's everyday life to me. But anyway, it's okay. They beat me and now it's over. I want to let it rest. Like you said, there's enough drama to deal with."

He sighed and went back to combing my hair in soothing strokes. "Is there anything else that happened or that they said?"

I wasn't going to tell him about the threat and how I needed to pay them back. For some reason, I wasn't too worried. Sure, they might beat me again but I have a memory and it is one that says they aren't going to do shit. They were all talk, a lot of the time in the past anyway. Plus, another beating would be worth them not getting what they want.

"No, I'm sure," I lied.

"Okay," he said. He stopped combing my hair, finally done. Yet, a moment later, his fingers slowly grazed my hair, as if hesitant to do so. Running the inside of his hand down my long strands, he paused before doing that again. Soon, he was playing with my hair and it felt ten times better than him combing it. "You keep saying friends. Like you were close with them before. Were you?"

"No not really. But they were the only people that didn't tease me or beat me up. Sure, they thought it was true that I was nuts. But they liked me for intimidation and because I'm a little aggressive. They weren't friends in how most people have friends. I just call them friends because what else should I call them?"

"Hm. I see," he whispered. "Did you have anybody you were close to? Anyone you could talk to?"

I thought about it, even though I knew I didn't need to. This was something I spent hours thinking about.  Hours analyzing my past and trying to find something or someone I was close to. I wasn't ready to talk about Emily but at the same time, did she really count? She was so much younger and I loved her. But we never really got the chance to be close.

"No. I had nobody."

There was a silence for a moment. He played with the ends of my long hair and I knew it was mostly dry. "Do you have anybody now?" he asked quietly.

"What?" I asked, not understanding.

"Am I your friend?" he asked... straight out.  It was quite shocking to hear. A very direct question most would be too embarrassed or shy to ask. But he wanted to know and probably wanted to see how I would respond.

Slowly, I looked behind me to him. His eyes rested on mine and they were blank for the most part. Just... a wondering and waiting look, as if it was such a common question. I bit my lip to hold back my smile. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious to see if I excelled beyond your expectations. Also, I want to say, 'I told you so' since you were always so reluctant to get close to me." He smiled warmly at me.

"Hm...." I said, tapping my chin in very deep thought. "I don't know. Are you willing to brave a long journey downstairs into the kitchen for me if I'm starving?"

"So if I get you food, you will say it?"

"I asked if you would be willing to.  Even with Clare as a possible obstacle?"

He smiled, his lips parting and showing my his beautiful straight teeth. He thought it over. "I guess I would be willing...."

"Would you let me have your cop car for a day? This is for the sake of our friendship."

"Ah, there. You admit it," he said, pointing an accusing finger at me. "You said friendship."

I shook my head in defense until I realized that wasn't the best idea with my neck. "No, I didn't admit it," I said, shifting my body to the side more to look at him easier. "I said friendship but that could mean a great one or a nonexistent one."

He shook his head, smiling. "I'm your friend. You like me and enjoy me around. So say it," he pushed, smiling brightly.

"I don't think I want to..." I said, turning all the way around so I was now sitting and facing him straight. I noticed his eyes moved over me, as if slightly mesmerized, which was strange.... Almost like he noticed something different about me. His eyes held mine the next second. "What do you think makes you such a good friend to me - despite the benefits with you helping me? And the sex," I said, joking.

He chuckled lightly. "Well, for starters, I am one hell of a cook. Which goes hand in hand with your favorite hobby of eating, right?"

"I guess. What else you got?"

"You and I really understand each other. You know how I think and I know how you think. We have a lot in common."

"That doesn't have to mean anything," I replied, smiling and pushing him to go on.

"Well, I know that for whatever reason, you are happy around me. You have life swelling within you every time you lay your eyes on me. You enjoy spending time with me and being with me."

Though we were just fooling around now, he was on target with all these but especially that last one. I was happy with him. I was smiling right now with him; that's simple proof. I didn't want him to see how this was affecting me and how deep that went.  Deep; I know corny right? So I laughed and tried playing over it. "I think you are over thinking how great you are."

He smiled but looked at me with admiration. "You laugh and smile, you tell me the truth and know you can tell me your problems. Say it... Say, 'Luke, you are my best friend and I like hanging out with you. Because you are just so damn cool.'"

I cracked up, laughing at that one. "If you want me to tell you the truth, you need to do the same about something else," I proposed.

He nodded. "Okay, deal. So, Albany, am I your friend?"

Yes, it was slightly embarrassing or uncomfortable to say this but it was the truth. "Yes, you are my friend."

He smiled, victorious. "That's all I wanted to hear. And... I told you so."

I rolled my eyes. "But now you need to tell me something."

His eyebrows dipped and he sat up more.  Just as his pretty and green eyes rested on mine.  "Well then ask."

I said the first thing that snapped into my head. "Tell me your most embarrassing moment. Something that you would hate me knowing."

His smile dimmed and eyes dipped; he was playing as if he was overwhelmed with that one. "Well damn, that's not fair."

"You made a deal," I reminded him.

He sighed. "Fine." He thought it over for a moment and when I saw the blush, I knew we had a winner. "My mother use to think I was gay."

I burst out laughing and forced myself to keep it to a minimum. If I laughed hard enough, it hurt my lungs. God, I hope I feel better tomorrow. Hell, I was already feeling better now with what he said. "Oh my god," I said over my laughter. "That's awesome. Why would she think that?"

He blushed and I saw his lips shyly tilt up. "It's my dad's fault really. He said that if I had the biggest penis out of every other boy in school, that I would one day get super powers. So I wanted to know if I had the biggest dick out of everybody in school. Shall I say more?"

I laughed. "Wait, wait, wait!" I smiled. "So you went up to little boys and asked how big their penis was?"

"No," he sighed.  "I would pull their pants down to see or hang out in the bathroom like a creep. At that time, I was desperate for super powers. I had to impress the girls."

Holy shit, that's awesome. I couldn't help laughing hard at that and as I did, I saw he knew it was funny too. "So your mom assumed from that?"

He sighed. "Yep. Made second grade complete shit for me."

I smirked. "So what were the results?"

He looked confused for a small second on what I meant before he realized my words. Smirking himself, he said, "What do you think the results were? Don't you know that I have the power to smash buildings to pieces and turn invisible?"

It took a while for my laugh to die down after that. But when it did, he asked me a question. "Now you need to tell me this: why do you always wear your hair up in a bun?"

It was an unexpected question because it was quite random.  Was it really that important? Whatever, he wanted to know I guess. His eyes were completely serious over it too it seemed. "Uh well, I always would wear it up because Clare liked to pull my hair a lot and she sometimes cut my hair off.  So I felt safer with it in a bun.  I wore my hair up even more after I left home - and for a couple reasons. One being that I didn't have access to showers often so I wanted to keep it as clean as I could. Being in a bun and under a hood, that helped with me not looking as homeless. Plus, when sleeping at night, it gets really dirty, especially when I was on dirt or in filthy allies. Being gone a year also let it grow really long so it always did good put up. And when I got back, I guess I kept it up because I was use to it being up."

Luke nodded, understanding yet with his eyebrows dipped and framing his green eyes staring at me, he appeared as if he didn't really like that. Confused myself, I asked him, "Why did you want to know that?"

He hesitated in answering. He pursed his lips and leaned forward, raising his fingers and brushing a lock of my hair, the strands moving through his fingers. I realized now that this was the first time he was seeing me with my hair down like this. I knew I looked quite different but he seemed to think something else as well.

"You're hair..." he started slowly.

"What?"

"It's just so beautiful. It's very unnatural to see a girl with pale brown eyes with such thick and deep black hair. The curls in it are unusual as well. Big swirls and hoops and curls. Elegant and not like most curly hair," he said and was very close to me now. "It brings out your eyes quite a bit. You're really...." he trailed off and looked away for a moment, looking as if he realized who I was and what he was saying. My stomach turned and I wanted him to go on. Nobody ever said anything like this to me before. I knew guys were attracted to me sexually but I was never complemented in that way. He was basically saying my hair was beautiful. But with his tone and the extra characteristics he brought up, it sounded as if he thought I was just beautiful in general. Yeah, embarrassing, but I liked the idea that he thought that of me - more than I wanted to admit too.

"What?" I pushed. "I'm really what?"

I wanted him to say it, tell me the truth because nobody ever did before. Looking at him now, I saw he didn't want to. He felt wrong for wanting to complement me any more. Why? Because it just didn't sound good on top of what I was considering a flirtatious conversation between us.

He shook his head. "You're just..." I didn't think he would say it. He did. "Beautiful. You are a beautiful person." He laughed, not liking where he dragged this conversation into the dark and serious. He laughed to try to steer away from that. "With beautiful hair. You'll make a man very happy one day," he added and I noted that it seemed as if he was bound to say that.

I felt my eyebrows dip lower as I gazed at him. He didn't say it because he was attracted to me or anything like that. He was just communicating with me what he observed. That I was beautiful. Hell, Jan was beautiful but that didn't mean I was attracted to her. Nope, he didn't say that because he thought I was attractive. I couldn't hope for that so I kept it out of my head. I knew he wasn't. Because if he was, he wouldn't be acting as natural as he was around me right now (even if he was a little embarrassed right now at thinking it gave me the wrong idea).

"You're beautiful too. Rather really pretty," I said with wide eyes and a voice that tried too hard to be purposefully serious. I was saving him from his embarrassment and causing our lips to tilt up. He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

We sat there on my bed for hours. Just talking and fooling around. I was hurting still, sore and I knew my eye was starting to swell. But just keeping busy with him was a good distraction. From the amount of time he stayed up here with me, it was clear how he really didn't want to face Clare.

I was laying down under my covers now, my head resting on the pillow as Luke's suggestion. He wanted me to rest but I couldn't for some reason. As I was laying on my back, he was sitting up next to me, his back pressed into the headboard. His legs were stretched out like mine were except I was fully laying down. Looking up at where he was looking down at me, I couldn't help but admire his green eyes, so caring on mine. They seemed to shine from the moonlight that beamed through my window since it was now night.

While discussing a very important issue - whether aliens existed or not - my needy stomach interrupted. He paused, smiling slightly. "I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you are hungry?"

"Dude, when am I not hungry?"

He scoffed but I could see he showed no excitement over what I was silently asking him. He sighed, smile and eyes falling. He didn't want to face her just to go downstairs and get me food. But he couldn't argue with my stomach. Plus, he wasn't going to let me suffer just over that. I felt my bed shift and since he was on the side of the table, he was quick to stand up and turned to face me.

"Alright. What do you want?" he sighed.

I thought it over. I knew it would be torture for him to cook something if Clare was going to be on him. He wanted to be in and out. "Just grab a shit ton of snacks to last us both a while."  He nodded.  And I added something that might make him more compelled to go downstairs. "Maybe she went to bed and you won't have to face her. She is a heavy sleeper if she is actually sleeping."

He snorted. "Yeah right." Under his breath as he turned and walked towards the door, I heard him say under his breath, "She's a damn stalker, always on me just to bitch about her issues, concerning herself."

As he left my room and closed my door, my eyes widened at hearing what he said and I smiled. Not at his discomfort; at that he might finally understand where I'm coming from with my hate for her. Yeah, obviously Luke loved her. A lot. He was still trying. But it was a slow failure that was continuing downhill. I didn't expect him to say what he did under his breath. So I knew that she must have really pissed him off. He was a problem solver, a calm and down to Earth guy. She must have really got to him over something.

He came back in the room a moment later and shut the door fast behind him, with a loud bang. Looking towards the door from where I was laying, I saw he had a couple bags of different chips as well as some sweets. He was even balancing a dish of popcorn between his filled hands too. That must have been a bitch; I guess he really thought popcorn was essential if he was willing to take the time to pop it when I knew Clare was on him about whatever it was the whole time.

He set the snacks down on my bedside table and flicked the lamp on. Moonlight was still casting on my floor from my open window, the lamp brought much more light so we could eat. I noticed a scowl on his face and his eyes were blazing. He got back on the bed next to me, propping himself up like before. Looking down at me, he reached over and grabbed everything. I opened a bag of chips and started slowly eating them as he ate the popcorn.

After I had enough in me to satisfy the growling beast, I turned more towards him to speak.

"Alright, start talking," I spoke when all that the air held was the breeze and the sounds of us eating. "What did she do now? Did she bitch you out over something small, force you into sex, lie again, or show her diva side?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He leaned back and rested his head on the headboard as he took a deep breath. I waited and a moment later, he began to speak. "Well, first of all--"

"Ah, more than one. Should have known she was showing that much cruelty. She can only hold it in for so long."

Luke ignored that but seemed to look even more desperate and upset, as if really lost now. I was glad he wasn't hiding this from me anymore. Like with before, he constantly acted as if everything was fine, he was fine, his relationship was fine....  Now, he welcomed my input. I think it surprised him when he would tell me something revealing and negative about Clare and I wouldn't shove my insanity issue in his face. I was here to listen to his problems as he was for me. Yes, it was still strange because it was so new to me. I usually don't talk things out and even today was a large step.

Voice helpless, he went on. "She released a statement to the press."

My eyes widened. "What? And what did she say?" It was just today that it was on the news. She must have just done it just today as well.

He started to speak but stopped to think something over. He had trouble with this but finally said it. With how this was obviously affecting him, it made me pay attention more. I was already looking up at him from where I was laying on my side and eating.  I felt the need to sit up and look at him closely. But I was in too much pain still to really want to bother.

"Luke, come on. I don't think you understand the amount of shit I am always given. I bet I won't bat an eyelash."

"She said... she announced that you would be happy to hold interviews as soon as possible. She even scheduled one for tonight, saying that you were looking forward to it. As if you were the one to suggest it." He paused, pursing his lips. "When she got home, she found me with you in the bathroom and flipped out. Not because she objected to the way I was cleaning you or anything like you would expect. Nope." He clenched his teeth and looked away from me, staring at nothing in particular on my floor. He shook his head in sadness as he went on. "'Will she be able to hold an interview tonight?' 'She can handle it.' 'She doesn't look too bad. She's tough,' she had said to me. And I...." He shook his head again, running a hand through his hair and I could see that her lack of concern over me really got to him too. His heart seemed to break and was being displayed through his eyes. He's tried and tried, even put an effort into forgiving her over me and her past. Yet this was something that he wouldn't soon get over. He went on. "She didn't care about how you were. She did ask how you were after though and showed signs of sympathy. But for a mother... she should have been more concerned over your well-being and not a fucking interview."

I smirked and chuckled lightly. His eyes grew and he looked hard at me. "How is this funny?" He asked, voice hurt.

"You see all the signs," I said. "You could easily put them together. I'm not surprised that she would be eager for me to go on television and blame everything on her. It just gives her more power and more attention. Me saying she hurts me... all that would do is make people laugh at me and feel bad for Clare for having a crazy daughter to deal with. It makes her look better."

He was pissed and upset beyond belief. But he would not accept those words. They were too cruel for him to handle, especially since they involved his wife. He knew she wasn't perfect and could be a better mother even. Luke saw those problems in her. But, for him, it was going too far to say she would do such a thing for attention and to drag me down. I understood by now that it was natural for him and I didn't blame him on it.

He looked sick at hearing what I said. He parted his lips to say something but nothing came out. He was having a hard time with what I said so I spoke. "You don't need to take my side. I'm just telling you what the truth is and I'm not going to bother with that. Think what you want. But keep going. What else happened?"

That anger was back in his eyes. He sighed, cramming more chips in his mouth, buying himself more time to think. "After that, I told her that you most definitely were not giving interviews, and especially now. She accepted that. But then she threw in my face how that was her decision because you were her daughter and not my daughter," he sighed. "Then I yelled that she wasn't even a mother since I was the one cleaning you up. Because I knew you wouldn't have wanted her to. Though I didn't fully mean that, I don't take it back. If she wants to tell me what's right for you, she can. She is your mother. But she will not put words in your mouth and have you do interviews when you never agreed to do them." His hands drove back into the potato chip bag in anger and he tossed one back in his mouth. "Then she left for a while. I continued cleaning you up and a few minutes later, she came in apologizing, saying she didn't mean to make me mad and she wanted us to be closer." He sneered. "'Me' and 'us'. Not you. Anyway, I yelled at her to leave since I was busy with you and didn't have nor want time with her. Because of course, it's always about her!"

Whoa. I didn't expect him to tell me so much. But then again, he obviously needed to rant and get his anger out. Because there sure was a lot in him at this point. I felt like I needed to look him straight in the eye now so I slowly started to sit up. His arm grasped mine, seeing what I was doing, changing positions. He helped me move back until I was sitting up next to him. Looking at him, he stared ahead still and took deep breaths.

I broke the silence that was becoming more tense by the second. "And I'm sure there is more sin--"

"Oh you bet there is! Of course, besides the extremely mean thing she said to you while leaving the bathroom." His eyes glanced back and stayed on mine.  My breath caught and not just because he was so close. He and I craved control so I knew how he feels. Meaning, right now, he was openly accepting this time with me to not be in control. He had so much sadness and anger in him just from today. He was strong enough to be able to hold it in and handle it. But I knew he was feeling damn good just getting that shit out and talking it out. Yeah, I know. Talk, fluff, talk, soft, talk, fluff, fluff... I never was for talking much and still felt strange talking to him like this in general. I was more about getting problems solved with physical strength and witty comebacks. So you can see why I recognize this as a fluffy moment. Hell, this whole day seemed to be. But by now, I was fine with it. I strangely liked talking and he did too. .

"Just now, when I went downstairs, you can bet your ass that it wasn't three feet outside your bedroom door and she was on me. Like a fucking stalker! I didn't stop as I headed downstairs but she followed after me and was saying how she really was sorry and that she loved you and wanted to care for you. She went on about how she was being selfish and was sorry about what she said. When I didn't yell at her, I guess she somehow took that as an apology." He rolled his eyes at that and so did I.  I knew she was trying hard to not mess up and rather show Luke her love for me. But she could have been doing a better job. That was more so true with what he said next. "So, thinking I forgave her - and I don't know how because I didn't - she took that as her opportunity to say something that was at the top of her priorities list, next to the damn interviews. 'So sweetie, do you think you can clean up the bathroom. I want to take a bath and would rather do so without any blood that wasn't rinsed out.' Really?! She wants me to clean up the fucking bathroom right now? Because, Miss Queen Do Nothing shouldn't have to clean the fucking bathroom; she's just to good, especially after a long day of work behind a fucking desk!" he said nearly yelling.

I stared at him. He was breathing harder and he bit his lip closed, eyes closing too as he tried to calm down. He rested his head back against the headboard and I watched as his angry and pissed off expression slowly spread to one with so much sadness and doubt and just... hopelessness.

Luke sighed and his breath was shaky. It wasn't just Clare. It was everything. There was so much stress on him. Besides Clare, he was trying his best to dedicate most of his time with me. He was trying to get closer to me. But that meant guilt over not spending time with his wife. He was also trying to find me a job, trying to find a way to make it so my insanity won't affect me in getting a good life. That was on his shoulders, my future. Then he missed so much work, he is in need to make up all that time. And I knew they weren't happy with him. He took off many days but he also had them not charge me, which was a huge deal. Not to mention he just paid them off to keep me being home a secret. Yeah, his job wasn't too great. And with he needing to focus on his job, he also needed to make sure Clare and I stay apart. I could tell he was also being judged by his family. Maybe not by his mother so much but just from meeting her, it was obvious they were disappointed in him not divorcing her. He had to feel shame over that. And now, just today, he has to deal with the media and the news, interviews... Then I was beat up and that, according to before, had it's own damn category. That really put him on edge and I could tell he now felt obligated to protect me. He was so pissed off, from me getting beat up alone. On top of this, he probably isn't going into work tomorrow so it comes full circle now it seemed.

My heart twirled within me. He was so strong, so caring. He never put himself first, before anything or anybody it seemed. He was so beautiful. I wasn't just kidding before either. He was a beautiful person. Who would go through all this? And put in so much effort?

"I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered in a sad note. I felt my body on instinct shift more to face him more. His green eyes sparkled in mine and he searched my face. The brown little flecks in them seemed to light up as did the other tints.

I pursed my lips as a thought entered my mind. It wouldn't leave and even if I gave it more time, I knew it wouldn't. So I had to bring it up. "None of this would be happening if I didn't come home. This is my fault--"

His eyes widened and he turned in front of me, sitting and facing me. "No," he said, shaking his head firmly. His hands grasped the tops of my shoulders to drive his words home. "No, it's not."

"How? Your life is fucked up now."

"Yeah but your not to blame. At all." He shook his head. "Out of everything I'm dealing with right now, you are honestly the only relief in my day."

"You wouldn't need that in the first place though if I never came back. Those problems with Clare wouldn't exist and neither would all the affects of that."

"Do you think I am not thankful that you came back to town? If you didn't, I wouldn't have known the truth about Clare."

I hid my smirk. "Really? But she said that she was going to tell you sooner or later, right?"

He sighed and didn't answer at first. From that, I realized that he didn't believe that she would. He was losing faith in her. Slowly, very slowly, but he was. He ignored those words and went on. "It's good that I'm facing these problems. It's a test to see whether our marriage can survive. And I'm glad it's happening now than later on in my marriage."

I sighed myself. His hands resting on my shoulders burned and I loved the heat that seemed to pass through that contact. Luke's pursed lips and worried eyes were enough for me to know he didn't blame me. At all and I don't like how relieved that made me, as if that was a huge deal.

"What are you thinking?" I asked finally.

"That I really love my wife. That is why I'm holding on, that's why I'm trying hard to ignore everything else. I finally thought I found the woman I want to spend my life with and now that she's my wife, I don't want to give her up without trying my best."

"Don't you think it should be her trying and not you?"

"Well...." He paused, looking down at where both our crossed legs nearly touched, we were that close. It wasn't that uncomfortable but I was very aware of his breath on my face, the heat his body gave off, his hands on my shoulders with reassurance. "Yeah. I know. But I'm not going to be the one that leaves without a fight."

"Is it worth fighting for?" I asked quietly.

"Yes. It needs to be."

I sighed. "What I mean is do you want her, look at her the same as you did before? Will you ever be able to get over what happened?"

He shook his head slowly with thought. "I honestly don't know. But I do know that my life has changed so much within the past month and a half. So fast that if it claims all I have gained that fast, it couldn't have been that important."

I nodded, understanding. We sat in silence for a moment, our thoughts wondering about this hard topic. I really felt bad for him. I did. I use to hope that one day he would see the truth and get a divorce. And I still wanted that. But I hated with a passion how much pain that would put him in. He was hurting a lot as it is. I wanted him to be happy but I knew it's a good thing that he was a little broken. Because it meant a chance at him actually leaving her. And that meant a chance at a better life.

"Are you scared?"

His eyes found mine again. He nodded after hesitating for a moment. "Yeah, I am," he whispered in a daze. "I'm so... I can't describe to you how much today hurt me. But I need to be thankful. And I am. I am so thankful."

Thankful? For what?  He even just admitted to me his life was in the dumps. And today was what did him in. Why or how could he be thankful? And for what? If I were him, I would be marching into church and demanding to know from the priest why god hates me so much. I mean, he must dislike me and Luke both because there were just so many problems that it just wasn't realistic anymore....

I raised my eyebrows and scoffed. "Thankful? What the hell do you have to be thankful for today?"

He looked confused and when he said what he did, it came in a tone that said it was just so obvious. "That you are alright and you weren't more seriously hurt."

My stomach twisted and I felt myself glance away from his dazzling eyes. From earlier in the bathroom when he told me about how me being beaten affected him, to him saying I was a beautiful person; from his rant filled with emotion and trust in telling me and to now... with him saying that.  I knew that the guy I was falling for was just tempting me to show my appreciation. But more than that, I did what I did because my body acted on it's own.

I swiftly leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck in an uneven breath. I ignored the muscles in my back that were strained or the pain in my legs or stomach. In fact, it all seemed to just fade away when that overwhelming feeling came over me now. Kneeling forward now to where he sat, I wrapped my arms around his neck tighter and rested my head against his shoulder. I was breathing heavily and I was so unuse to this.... The only time I recall really hugging someone was a few weeks ago and that's when Luke kind of goaded me into it. It was strange being the one to actually do it. But, and yeah softly so, I was glad I did. He felt so warm. Like he did when holding me in the tub earlier. It was better now though. Especially when after a few seconds he reacted and wrapped his arms up and around my back, holding me as hard as he dared before I hurt. I didn't hurt or feel any pain. I just felt... well, that annoying feeling again. I didn't want it to be love but really, what else could it be when I felt so much over this dude?

Ha! Listen to me.... I sound like such a dramatic little bitch, don't I? Damn. I changed a lot since being home. Though I was somewhat ashamed, I liked it at the same time. Because it felt so good.

When his arms tightened slightly, I felt my sore knees give slightly and I was in his lap and more comfortable. He was so... nice. Just like I remembered. Though yeah, I was attracted to him and falling for him, there was more than that. Somewhat of a sense of home, safety and light and all that other soft shit. My cheek resting in the crook of his neck, as he hugged me back, I felt his head rest on top of mine. With one hand on my back, he rubbed it up and down, soothing me. With his other hand, he softly ran his fingers through my hair. I felt him sigh and relax more into my arms. It felt as if we both needed this.

"A hug from the tough Albany?" he asked with surprise and affection in my ear.

I smiled and bit my lip, my voice wavering with a slight chuckle. "Shut up," I said, closing my eyes and enjoying this with all I had. We held each other for a while longer. I think the strangest part about it was that after the first few seconds, there was no tension. There was no awkward silence of an uncomfortable air. It was just welcoming, loving, and relaxing. And I never wanted to let go.