Devoured Book 2 - Page 59

“No kidding,” I whisper.

Once again, the black car is parked at the top of my driveway for a few minutes tonight, but this time I don’t freak out as I sit on the front porch with my legs stretched out on the swing.

My phone buzzes from where I left it on the outdoor table, and when I peer over at the screen, I see that it’s Lucas.

This is the first time that he’s called me since visiting me in the hospital on Sat.u.r.day. I grab the phone, weighing it in my palm like I’m considering my options before I suck it up and hit the Accept b.u.t.ton. I hear his sigh of relief as I place the receiver to my ear.

“I’m sorry, Red,” he whispers. “I should’ve warned you about David.”

I wrap my arm around myself, shaking my head. “No, it’s comforting that you—”

When I don’t continue, he takes a breath. “That I’m not there myself, waiting around to kill the next person who tries to touch you?”

I groan. “No, Lucas—”

“What? Don’t admit that that’s what I wanted to do to that motherf.u.c.ker who hurt you? That this time, it wouldn’t have been an accident?”

“Where are you?” Fear slices through my heart thinking of whom he could be saying all of this in front of. “You shouldn’t talk like that?”

“I’m on the bus. Alone,” he growls. “On my way to Nashville.”

He was coming here. Lucas was coming back here. Then I close my eyes—of course he’s coming here. He’s got a show to play twenty-four hours from now. “Where’s Sinjin?”

“With Zoe. He’s meeting us there.”

“Ah,” I whisper.

“I’ve been doing the shows we didn’t have to cancel but all I can think about is you. The way you taste and smell. The way you laugh. I don’t care if I do sound like a pu**y for admitting this, but I’m f**ked up without you, and I don’t know if anything can fix it this time.”

“I just needed time to catch my breath.” I tighten my grip around my still-sore body, and the memory of being punched in the stomach comes back to me full force. “I should have told you about Sam’s threats earlier.”

He makes a harsh noise. “What the f**k would I have done? Told you that I would handle it by talking to that crazy b.i.t.c.h? I dragged you, blindfolded, into the most f**ked up situation possible.”

“I followed you.” I stand up and begin to pace the length of the porch, biting on the tip of my thumb as I walk. “I followed you because I love you, and I still love you. Now I just know a little more than I did when I walked in.”

Much, much more.

A long, drawn out noise comes from the back of his throat. “And where does that leave us?”

I hesitate. Where does that leave us? “I don’t know, but I think we have to figure that out.”

“I need to see you.” He swallows hard and then I hear him inhale and exhale. “We’ll be pulling through in about five hours.” Then he gives me the venue, which I immediately know of. When he’s through, he asks me in a low voice, “Tell me you’ll be there, Sienna. Just . . . I need you.”

“Always.”

Sunlight is peeking across the sky when I pull my car into the venue’s parking lot at 6AM. Just as Lucas said, the buses have recently pulled in, and the early morning bustle is already happening. I take the keys out of my old Mercury sedan, shove them into my pocket and walk over to the bus we shared.

One of the drivers is still inside, filling out a log, and when he opens the door for me, he gives me a sympathetic smile. “Welcome back.”

I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’m not continuing on the tour, so I give him a grateful nod. “Is Lucas back there?”

“Probably sleeping but that doesn’t matter if you’re here.”

Letting the driver’s words roll through my mind, I walk down the aisle and past Sinjin’s empty section until I reach the back compartment. I find Lucas face down on the full size bed that we shared, his long legs poking off the edge, and his fingers clenched into the sheets on the side of the bed I slept in. I sit down next to him.

“Lucas,” I whisper. He doesn’t budge, so I touch his back, running my fingers over the array of tattoos covering his skin. More than six months ago, I had decided that the stopwatch and queen of hearts tattoo was my favorite, but now I can’t look at it without my stomach pitching.

It stands for Sam, for her disgusting hold over him, and I hate that he’s had to go through her s.h.i.t alone for so many years.

“Lucas,” I say again, shaking his shoulder. He rolls his head to the side, opening his hazel eyes to stare up at me. I slide off the bed and stand over him.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

I wring my hands together, rubbing each finger vigorously. “You must not know me very well.”

He presses his palms to his eyes and lets out a giant breath. “Come here, Red.”

I’m hesitant at first, but then he holds my waist on both sides and urges me to him. I climb on the bed, one knee at a time, sliding my body against his as I rest the side of my face on the pillow beside of him. He glides his knuckles across the bruise on my jaw that I’ve hidden with makeup. “I’m so f**king sorry, Si.”

“I know you are.”

“No matter what happens to me, I’m going to make sure that n.o.body ever touches you again,” he promises, his eyes hard.

I move my head from side to side. “You make it seem like she’s tried to turn you in.” When he doesn’t say anything, I sit up abruptly and glare down at him. “Lucas? Is she?”