Song recommendations for this chapter is in the above IG post (@natalieinacorner)! 

~Please remember to vote~ 

Chapter 94: A burden

My phone was ringing in my lap.

I wiped the tears from under my eyes and removed my jacket, placing it in the passenger seat of my car.

I picked up, "Hi mom."

"TELL ME WHY THERE IS A PADLOCK ON OUR FRONT DOOR?!"

I forgot about that.

"Because someone broke into our house and we have no lock on our-"

"WHERE'S THE KEY?!"

I extended my arm so my phone was at a further distance to my ear, "I have it-"

"SO HOW ARE WE GOING TO ENTER OUR OWN HOME?! DOZ AND I ARE STANDING OUT HERE LIKE IDI*TS!"

"I'm coming back now. I'll be there in twenty min-"

"TWENTY MINUTES?! WE'RE NOT GOING TO WAIT FOR YOU! YOU BETTER BE HOME BY THE TIME WE COME BACK FROM DINNER!" she yelled, until her voice changed tone and I guessed she was talking to Doz, "She said she'll be here in twenty minutes."

The line went dead. I sat in the silence of my car, feeling an emptiness after all that shouting. I picked myself up and rested my hands on the steering wheel.

I looked out at Cearra's house and thought of the supportive family inside. One day, I hoped to have something similar to that.

I began driving home, wondering what kind of music would get me out of this funk. I pressed shuffle.

**

I parked in the driveway of my home and pressed my face into my hands. I focused on my breathing, trying to still the panic inside of me. I was feeling this more and more lately – a sense of fear behind everything.

I pushed open the car door, reaching out for my jacket in the passenger seat before sliding out. The keys to the padlock were in one of my jacket pockets and I fumbled for them as I walked to the front door.

My scruffy shoes stopped. And my jacket fell on the concrete beside me.

He was sitting on my front doorstep.

His elbows pressed against his knees as he looked down at the ground. The wind ruffled through his dark hair, but he didn't move. I wondered how long he had been sitting there, waiting for me.

I kept my eyes on him, watching him as if we were back at summer camp and I had no idea what to expect next. I'd do anything to see into his thoughts sometimes.

"Hi," I said awkwardly, reaching down to pick up my jacket.

I watched his shoulder muscles roll back as he looked up, his piercing gaze hitting me deep inside. His shirt adjusted around his chest. It's criminal to look the way Luke does, to feel the way Luke makes me feel, because I become so weak to stand my ground against him.

Luke didn't stay anything, but he stood up to his full height and stepped back. I approached the front step, drawing close to him. I watched how his left sneaker was inches away from knocking gnomey over.

"It's cold to wait out here," I said, one eye protectively watching gnomey while I unlocked the padlock.

Luke didn't answer. He followed my gaze down to his left shoe and then to gnomey beside it. The gardon gnome stared at us with a goofy expression. Luke shook his head before he moved, walking inside.

I felt the pressure release when he wasn't so close to me.

I was relieved that my mother had decided to go to dinner. The last thing we needed was another interrupted moment. I don't know how much time Luke and I had before they returned.

Like he could read my thoughts, he said, "Your mom's back."

I nodded, following him into the living room, "I'm surprised she came back."

"I'm probably not welcome here from now on."

Our parents hadn't exactly created a warm atmosphere for us to be together. These were tensions that we could never have known about when we first met.

I couldn't hold his gaze. It was deep and honest, like he was ready to have that kind of conversation. I led the way, up the stairs and took him to my bedroom. If my mom returned, at least there would be another door between us and her.

My bedroom door creaked behind us and he closed it firmly, one palm on the white door. "You're not usually the quiet one."

"I don't know what to say, Luke," I answered, "We're suspended."

"I know," he replied. "I'm sorry you were dragged into it."

I wasn't upset about the punishment.

I stood by my desk, rocking my knee against the red chair. Papers were piled in a mess on the desk and there was a stale glass of soda there from my last study session.

"We can't go on like this," I finally said, still avoiding his gaze, "I know there's a blackmailer out there trying to ruin us, but we're the ones ruining our own lives now. They didn't get us almost expelled today. We did that."

"I didn't want you to be there," he answered, still standing by the door, "I did what I thought was right."

We're on two different sides of this. We've made our marks in the sand and now it was a question of if we could cross over into the other side. He's stubborn and so am I.

"We're trying to win a battle and lose ourselves in the process," I said, "This situation is destroying us, and, in that sense, the blackmailer will win more than they bargained for. They want to harm us, break us up. We're making that job a whole lot easier."

At this point, the blackmailer can sit back and relax. Luke is on his merry way to getting us expelled and himself locked up. Maybe that's where he can meet the blackmailer... in jail.

Luke approached me, "I'm going to find him."

Or her. Or them.

"I don't know how beating up Kaden solves for that," I said, stepping back because the connection between us was too strong, "It's wrong to hurt someone period and it's wrong even from a self-preservation standpoint. You almost threw away your future."

"Kaden's involved, Millie," Luke said, making me think that he didn't really care about his future right now, "Kaden or his girlfriend knew something. Their story about that stupid party didn't add up. I asked nicely and I asked not so nicely."

"You punched him in the stomach the first time!" I argued.

What is Luke's definition of nice?

"And I spoke to him nicely the second time," Luke defended himself, "Chad tried bribing them and the boys stood on rotation outside every class they had to get an answer."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this?" I asked, "You brought the whole basketball team into this and you couldn't tell me? This is my problem-"

"But it's my fault," he answered, reaching out to touch me, "Millie, you wouldn't be in this situation without me. You're in pain. I can see you're barely sleeping, and I wanted to solve this for you."

I looked down at his hand on my arm, feeling the soft heat of his skin tingling mine. I had to fight my instinct to step into his arms. It's hard to stay mad at someone who's doing something wrong for the right reasons.

"I appreciate the help, but I don't want a hero," I said, "I want a partner."

"That's fair," he lowered his hand, and I watched his gaze lower, "Why do you look more upset now?"

"You keep calling me Millie."

His expression softened and I felt the tears well up in my eyes again. I hate how easily I cry these days. He tilted his head, and I knew the argument in us was fading fast. I reached out to hug him, throwing my arm up and accidentally knocking the glass of soda. It sprayed onto Luke's pants and the glass rolled off the desk.

He stepped back, glancing down at the fizzy stain on his pants, and just as he was asked for tissues, I pointed at my bedside table.

"I'm sorry!" I apologized.

He walked over to it while I knelt to pick the glass up. I suddenly remembered what else I put in that drawer and gasped.

"Stop!" I exclaimed, twisting round in his direction, "I'll get it!"

I jumped up, glass in hand, and rushed towards him. But it was too late. He'd opened the drawer and saw what was inside.

I stopped in my tracks, worried, and waited for his reaction:

"What in the f*ck?"

I couldn't see the table because his broad back blocked my view. Luke stood there, staring down at the open drawer of my bedside table. He pulled out what was in the drawer.

He lifted a butcher knife.

"Millie," he said...

And he honestly didn't need to say anymore, because the fact that I owed him an explanation was more than obvious.

"It's in case the blackmailer returns," I blurted, speaking my thoughts as quickly as they came to mind, "I freak out every time I hear the wind outside or a branch break at night. I know the blackmailer's going to go come back through a window or the front door and I'm terrified thinking about it. I don't want to be weak next time."

I raised my hand over my mouth, wondering if anything I was saying was making sense. I'm crazy for sleeping with a knife in my bedside table. But at the same time, I don't feel safe in my own home anymore. My dreams are nightmares because every time I sleep, I know I'm vulnerable.

Luke was still holding the butcher knife.

"This is exactly what I was talking about," he twisted the blade as he looked down at it, "I'm trying to protect you from this. I don't want a psycho to be keeping you up at night or making you feel unsafe."

"I know..." I said, feeling exposed.

He looked up and called me out, "You're ready to become a full-blown murderer. Where's the consistency?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're telling me that I can't rough Kaden up, but you're out here ready to murder in your sleep."

"Self-defence, Luke!"

"Yeah, well it's the same thing," he replied, getting angry now too, "Kaden started it. The jersey he bought ended up in your room with blood on it and he doesn't have a good enough explanation. I don't want to wait for you to defend yourself. I want to defend you without it being too late."

"Please Luke, you have to understand. I've been the Kaden before. I've been bullied and now I'm watching you inflict the same pain I used to receive."

"Kaden's inflicting the f*cking pain, Millie!"

"There's no proof!"

"What more proof do you need? The jersey he bought had the cat's blood on it."

"Someone killed Winnifred, someone broke into this home and came for me," my voice cracked at the memories, "I want to find that sick person and hurt them as much as you do. But there's not enough proof it's Kaden! And we can't let our emotions overcome us!"

"He hurt you. He betrayed your trust before I ever came along. He's complicit in this jersey thing whether he wants to be or not-"

"But you are not the arbitrator of justice. Who are you to say when someone deserves to be beaten up?!"

"OK, can we stop exaggerating this?" he sighed, rolling his eyes, "I threw a basketball at the guy a couple times. I didn't beat him up."

"He was tied to a chair-"

Luke sighed, and admitted that part, "Well that was Chad's idea."

"Luke!"

"What, Millie?! We all handle this in different ways. You keep it locked inside of you and I watch the effect that takes on you. I let my anger out on someone who, in my opinion, deserved a whole lot more."

It took me a moment to react to that. I realized the repercussions of our behaviors piling on top of each other. Him watching me lose myself to the trauma of the last few months led him to act this way.

"You pay a lot of attention to the details I didn't think you noticed. Actually, details I didn't want you to notice," I said.

Luke is attentive; much more than I ever thought he could be. I thought I was hiding my tiredness, my pain, my fear, my hunger. But he'd noticed. Some of it, at least.

"What are you saying?" Luke asked, throwing the knife back into the drawer in frustration.

I hope that didn't leave a mark.

"Uh..." I tried to figure out what I was saying, "I didn't want to trouble you with my pain, but you noticed it anyway. And then you tried to fix it in your own way. I realize that a partnership only works if I share more with you. I'm scared to overburden you."

"It's OK," he calmed me down, drawing me into his protective arms in one natural move.

I pressed my head against his chest and pressed my hand lightly on the top of his unflexed bicep. His hand stroked my hair. I breathed in his scent, the same scent that was on all the hoodies I'd stolen from him. But the original version was so much better.

"You've only done what I've done to you," he said, "I didn't open up to you about my college situation, my family or my knee problems. You knew I was going through it, but you didn't push me to tell you. Or interfere like I have for you."

I mumbled, "I didn't want to burden you when you weren't burdening me either."

"It's not a burden."

His hands swept over my lower back and his fingers latched on the belt buckles of my jeans, pulling down as he relaxed his grip. His soft lips pressed lightly on the top of my hair, so light it was as if he didn't want me to feel it. But I felt it to my core.

"Then I have something else to confess," I said and after he murmured yes, I went on to say it, "I don't want to stand by and let you hurt others but at the same time, I f*cking love you and I can't say anything against you. I'm a hypocrite and I'm torn two ways about it."

He sighed, "I don't know a single person out there who is 100% consistent. I have a hell of a lot of imperfections for you to deal with, but everything I do doesn't need to reflect on you."

I don't know if I agreed with that. Luke still didn't regret what happened to Kaden – in Luke's opinion, the ends justify the means and the ends weren't that rough on Kaden anyway.

"I lash out at people and you've always called me out on that," he continued, "I don't know what being bullied feels like. I can try to understand, and I can listen to you, but let me also give you the confidence that you will never be bullied again."

My mind was still twirling with everything else he said.

I believed him. I hadn't expected us to speak like this. I'm not sure what I expected but it finally felt like we were speaking the same language.

"Do you know what the scariest twenty seconds of my life was?" he asked, tilting my chin upwards, "The time it took for me to run from my house to yours. I saw that freak climb out the window and I hate myself every day for not going after him."

I exhaled a large breath I didn't even know I was holding. "You shouldn't carry that burden. You are the reason I'm fine."

I know Luke is in pain too. He's dealing with the aftermath like I am, but he's going through it in a different way.

"I have never been more afraid in my life than I was for you that night," he said, and I saw a glaze of emotion in his eyes.

He was hurting.

"It's messed us up," I replied, sitting on the edge of my bed beside him.

I took his hand in mine and clasped it tightly.

He looked at me, his eyes a clear blue and a soft smile brushed his lips. "Don't you think we were a bit messed up to begin with?"

"Probably," I said, "But you opened my eyes to that. I didn't realize how little I trusted people and how much my insecurities were holding me back. I'm trying to work on that."

Before Luke came along, I didn't think I deserved to be loved. I didn't think it was possible. And I'm not even sure I realized that I thought that way until he pointed it out.

"This change you always go on about is painful," he said, shaking his head and pressing his hands back against my bed, "I'm happy I'm making you trust me. You should trust me."

I looked at him, feeling an urge to reach out and lie on top of him. He saw the way I was looking at him and sat back up. His free hand reached out to brush against my chin. His fingers locked around my stray hair and he curled it behind my ear, letting his fingers brush against the tip. I shivered.

He spoke quietly, as his eyes wondering down. His thumb gently traced down to my collarbone and along to my shoulder, where he felt my bra strap under the thin fabric of my shirt.

"Your bra is too small for you."

I inhaled, not trusting myself to speak. I watched as his hand lightly pulled my shirt over my shoulder, exposing my bare skin. He let his fingers trail over it, knowing the effect his touch had on me.

His fingers clasped against my bra strap and lifted it to reveal the red mark underneath. Then he leaned forward and kissed it, his lips softly touching the red on my skin.

"Pain is a sign that something's not right," he muttered.

That sentence had too many layers to it. I looked at him and saw his eyes still had hurt in them. There was disappointment in his voice.

"Maybe we need to ask ourselves when that pain is too much," he said, "If we can't change. If we don't want to change."

A/N: Is it really a cliffhanger if the next chapter is out in <48 hours? ;) We're doing 2 chapters this week and I'm excited. What did you think of their conversation - good? bad? disappointing? uplifting?

Gnomey made an appearance in this one. Anyone else on tiktok btw? I'm at  @natalieinacorner!

Please remember to vote and see ya Thursday! 

Natalie <3
TikTok: NatalieInACorner