LUCIEN: A Standalone Romance

by Glenna Sinclair

  “You can put me down.”

  He set me down, his hand still on the small of my back. “You were crying.”

  I gritted my teeth. That was the last thing I wanted to think about right now. “Sorry.”

  “I guess that was the response I expected from you,” Levi said. “Not the…other one.”

  “The one where I wanted you to fuck me.”

  Even here, as the man in front of me shuddered, I felt the stirring. I wanted him again, wanted him to push me over the edge and into that darkness again. I didn’t care that I was back in this house. I wanted him again.

  I turned in his grasp and nearly succeeded in kissing him before he stepped away.

  “As…nice…as that was, having sex with you,” he said, holding his hands up, that same defensive posture as earlier, “I think that we really need to talk.”

  I sagged in disappointment. “I thought you promised my brother you’d help me.”

  “I did. And I will.”

  “Then what if fucking me was the only way to help me?” I tilted my chin up at him, defiant, hiding my own anxiety in the same motion. It frightened me to think about it. What if it really was the only way to help me? Everything I did was motivated by ways to get sex. And as soon as I did it with someone, my mind was already looking ahead, trying to figure out where my next lay would come from. It was the only reason I worked at that damn bar. Part of it was to earn money, sure, but the other, larger impetus was easy access to men who would do whatever I asked of them, surprised but delighted by my insatiable lust.

  What if that was the only thing I could do for myself—find someone to have sex with me? What if that was the only thing that would ever distract me from myself?

  “I can appreciate a healthy sexual appetite,” Levi was saying, “but I know that you need things beyond a good orgasm.”

  Right now, a good orgasm was the only thing on my mind—in spite of this house. My stomach was sick with the feeling of being pulled in two different directions. I was ready to take him, right here and now, and yet I wanted nothing more than to flee from this place.

  “Meagan, talk to me. I want to help you. I’m going to help you. I just need to know what you need.”

  I exhaled for so long that my head swam. “I need to gather up a few things. And then I need to get out of here. How did you know where to find this house, anyway?”

  “I’m a modern man. I can Google things.” A half smile graced Levi’s face, and I recognized that he was parroting me from earlier, at the bar, when I still didn’t know that he was here for some reason other than me throwing myself at him for some momentary relief.

  “This house isn’t under my name,” I said, raising my eyebrows at him.

  “So maybe I did something a little more hardcore than Google,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal that he’d magically come up with my current residence without having the means to do so. “I have some tricks up my sleeve.”

  “You’re a magician who somehow knows where I live?” I eyed him, uncertain. Was it safe for him to be here with me? I’d already given my body to him, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to get on his jet with him and go to New York unless I got some answers.

  “This is why I think it’d be a good idea if we stopped, sat down a moment, and talked this out,” Levi said.

  “If you think you’re going to talk me out of leaving this place…”

  “If you want to leave town, you can,” he said. “That’s not the kind of talking I want you to do. If you want to go to New York City, I’ll have you there by tonight.”

  There was something inside of me that was placated, but the rest of me remained on edge. It was this house—being here in this house with someone. That and knowing my brother wasn’t going to be coming back for me.

  “Okay, talk to me about why my brother died for you,” I said, trying to resist the urge to begin pacing and failing. I led the both of us into the living room, beside my pallet of pillows. It was the only room in the house I could stand to be in.

  “Are you sure it’s okay to talk about?” Levi watched me stalk around the pillows, kicking at them. “Don’t you want to sit down or something?”

  “Just say whatever you need to say.” I didn’t stop my circuit of the room.

  “I don’t know what I expected when I found out Matt had a sister,” Levi said, halfway to himself. “He’d never mentioned you until…then. Until he got shot. But you’re nothing close to what I expected.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “He got shot?” That headline from the newspaper I’d glanced over—the shooting in New York City. I’d wondered why the tiny local paper had picked that up, and now I knew. It was because our town’s own Matt Green had been the one who died. I should’ve read the article. At least then I would’ve been prepared for Levi upending my existence.

  “Your brother was my bodyguard,” Levi explained. “I was attending a meeting with the heads of other companies my company is working with on a project, and there was a man with a gun outside the building. Matt pushed me out of the way. He saved my life.”

  I shook my head. It was hard to think of my brother being dead. Even if I hadn’t spoken with him in a year, I always had it in my mind that he was out there, working toward a time when we could be together again. Now that I knew he wasn’t, it was difficult to fathom.

  “Where is his body?” I asked. I knew that probably sounded weird, but I’d done this before. There was a body, and there were people who took care of bodies, and there were still more people who took care of all the other details.

  “It’s in the city,” Levi confirmed. “I also wanted to consult with you on the funeral arrangements.”

  “No need for a funeral,” I said. “I’m the only one left. There’s no one else.”

  Levi opened his mouth as if he were about to argue with me, and closed it again. “I can contact the facility where he’s at to have them cremate his body, if you want.”

  I didn’t know what I wanted. Matt wasn’t supposed to die. He was always supposed to be there to catch me, to take me away from all of this. To save me.

  Even as I thought that, I knew it wasn’t true. He hadn’t known what was going on while he was in the city. He hadn’t known what happened to me, or what I’d become.

  He’d died and left me alone, and yet I found myself no more alone now than before.

  “Whatever,” I said, feeling tired. I could’ve curled up on those pillows and fell fast asleep, but I’d be afraid that Levi would be gone when I awoke, a fever dream of salvation that would never come to pass.

  If Matt had died, he’d sent Levi in his place to save me, to finish what my brother had started.

  “I’m going to say something, and you’re going to be offended, and I don’t want you to be.”

  I cocked my head. “Say what you want to say. We’re supposed to be talking.”

  “You don’t seem very upset about your brother.”

  I shrugged. “It’s been more than a year since I’ve spoken with him. I got used to him not being around.”

  “But you were close before?”

  “We were siblings,” I said, shrugging. “He was older. He left home first. We had different experiences growing up, but he knew I wanted to leave here, and he was going to help me.”

  It suddenly dawned on me why Levi was asking what he was asking.

  “You want to know why he made you promise to help me,” I said.

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” I insisted, “and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Even as I said that, a little voice inside of me screamed in despair. I wanted so many things from this man that he probably didn’t want to do. I increased the speed of my pacing if only to make myself think of something else, like dodging the pillows I was kicking all over the floor.

  “Meagan, the last thing I want to do is shock you, but your brother died in my arms.” I slowed, then stopped again. “The last thing he said on
this earth was that he wanted me to find you and help you. I don’t know how many last words you’ve ever heard, but there’s a gravitas there that you can’t just decide to ignore.”

  “How important are you?” I demanded.

  “Excuse me?”

  “How important do you have to be to have people dying in your arms, whispering their last words to you?”

  “I’m the CEO of a renowned architectural firm,” Levi said.

  “I didn’t know that was a job that incited violence.”

  “It’s not. I have a lot of money, but there’s not a good reason I could think of for why someone would want me dead.”

  “How much is a lot of money?”

  “I’ve been in Forbes.”

  I wasn’t sure what the requirements for that achievement entailed, but it seemed to come with bullets.

  “Do you think it was just a random act of violence, then?” I asked. “Did you catch a glimpse of the shooter?”

  “I don’t know,” Levi admitted, casting his gaze downward, looking chagrined. “I might’ve seen him from behind. At least, I think it was a him. I don’t know. I told the police this. I just saw someone hurrying away. Could’ve been anyone rushing to get out of the cold. Your brother saw him coming, though. Shoved me out of the way. Saved my life.”

  It just didn’t seem real that Matt had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time—or that he’d sacrificed himself to make sure that Levi wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. It seemed so…meaningless.

  “So, whoever it is, he’s still out there,” I said. I searched my heart for righteous anger, for the desire for justice, but I didn’t think my heart was capable of feeling anything anymore. I’d taught it how to curl up and die out of pure necessity, so it was wrong of me to try and prompt it to function. All I felt there was a sort of dull throb—not its usual state of being, but not altogether unpleasant. It was as if the grief I should’ve been feeling was muted by nearly soundproof walls. Someone was crying in there, but I wasn’t sure who, or why.

  “The police are good at what they do,” Levi said. “I know really excellent investigators, and I have connections that go beyond the police force. What I’m telling you is that we’re going to find the shooter. It’s just a matter of when and where.”

  “You’re not scared?” I’d spent so much time being scared that I just assumed it was a default emotion for other people under duress.

  “Not scared,” he said, shaking his head. “Angry. Matt didn’t deserve to die. I wish…I wish he hadn’t pushed me out of the way. If I could go back, I’d push him out of the way, instead. I’d take the bullet that was fired at me.”

  “Why did you hire a bodyguard in the first place if you didn’t want to be protected?” I reasoned. “You care about your life.”

  “Not enough for me to want anyone else to die for me.” Levi heaved a sigh. “I’d do anything to give your brother back to you. I really would, Meagan. Please tell me you believe me.”

  It was then that I realized that Levi was suffering from an acute and very recent case of survivor’s guilt, and that made us more alike than he could know. I wished I could let him know that it wasn’t going to become any easier, no matter what anyone told him, but I didn’t want to make him despair.

  “I believe you,” I said. “Maybe we’ve done enough talking for now.”

  “You’re ready to go to the jet?” he asked, surprised. “Are you sure you don’t want to know anything else?”

  “I’m satisfied—knowledge-wise, anyway,” I said. “I could be more satisfied….” I took a step toward him, and another step, until our torsos were pressed together, angling my chin up to look him in the eye, dare him to do something that would further satisfy me.

  “You don’t have to feel obliged to…um…make me come,” he said. “Earlier, I understand that it was just a response to trauma. It was just shock, you wanting me to…have sex with you. You’re not obligated. I was glad to have helped you during your time of need, to give you some comfort.”

  I laughed in his face. “You really think I was in shock?”

  “Were you not?”

  “I saw something I wanted and I went for it,” I said. “You’re the one who keeps trying to find meaning that isn’t there.”

  “You mean you just wanted to have sex?”

  “Is that so hard to understand?” I cocked my head at him, goading him to contradict me. “A person wants what she wants.”

  Levi kept his face carefully blank. “And what does a person want right now?”

  “A going away party.” I kissed him, and he didn’t resist. I hadn’t wanted him to resist, but it surprised me all the same—Levi with all these hang-ups and sensibilities and meanings he thought he understood. Levi, whom I barely knew, pulling my pants apart for the second time that day. I couldn’t think of a single man I’d been with more than once. Each one was a means to an end, the quickest way I could come up with to get to the nothingness I craved—the momentary completion.

  “A bed,” Levi said hoarsely, pressing his arousal against me, showing me just how interested he was in a repeat performance.

  “Here is fine.” I fell backward onto the cushions splayed over the floor, kicking my pants off, relieved beyond words that I was going to get this—easy as pie—from someone I knew was capable of getting me off. A part of me I hadn’t accessed in a while actually felt good that I was going to be able to make Levi feel good. I felt almost magnanimous. He’d taken care of me earlier. I was about to make sure he was going to feel just as good as I was.

  Levi felt good inside of me. The way he buried himself in my body felt amazing, compelled me to feel the kind of happiness I usually only found in orgasm. Each stroke he made strummed something inside of me. The way he held my head, still mindful of how I’d bumped it against the door earlier, made something inside of me feel so good that it almost hurt.

  We moved together, breathed together, and there wasn’t desperation, guilt, or obsession. It didn’t matter that we were there on the floor of the house that I hated, pushing and pulling against each other, our movements softened by the pillows beneath it. Each thrust was something of beauty and pleasure. When we finally reached that peak and tumbled down, almost in tandem, there wasn’t darkness but light. It was something that was beyond my grasp of understanding.

  I’d craved that darkness, that nothing. It’s why I had initiated sex with him in the first place—because I knew he could take me there. I wasn’t prepared for this—this light. I didn't have a clue how or why it happened, but I wanted it again. It left me lighter, banished my pervasive self-loathing.

  It confused me, but lying there, my arm around a man who was just full of surprises, I was willing to see it through to the end.

  We took turns in the shower, got dressed leisurely, all in a comfortable silence that I was strangely at peace with. Normally, after climaxing, my brain played host to a tumult of anger and grief. I felt almost normal, almost at peace.

  “I know that you want to go to New York City,” Levi said, buttoning his shirt as I pulled my hair back, “but I understand that you might have a lot of loose ends to tie up around here. You’ll have to make arrangements for the house, I imagine, and give notice at the bar.”

  I smiled at him and bent down to retrieve the only thing I actually needed.

  “I’m ready when you are,” I said, shoving a shoebox into a plastic shopping bag.

  He blinked at me. “How can you be ready? You haven’t even packed.”

  “I’ve packed everything I intend on taking with me.”

  “You have a purse, the clothes you’re wearing, and a shoebox in a bag,” he said, incredulous. “Out of the contents of this entire house, that’s all you’re taking?”

  “It’s all I need.”

  Levi laughed. “Look, I promise the jet isn’t going anywhere. We’re not in any hurry here. This is a decently big house. Don’t you want to at least pack a suitcase?”

&nbs
p; I barely suppressed a shudder. All of my suitcases were upstairs, in the closet of my bedroom, and I simply didn’t go upstairs anymore.

  “I don’t need a suitcase,” I said. “If I need something, I’ll buy it once I get to New York City.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Levi said. “Now, we’re not leaving here until you’re properly packed. You’re used to living here. Things are different in the city—more expensive. You don’t want to rebuild your wardrobe from scratch. You’ll need more clothes. Your jacket is pitiful. It won’t keep you warm.”

  I sighed and opened the shoebox, tilting it so he could see inside. It was full of paper money, tips and paydays I’d squirreled away for an entire year, buying nothing except the bare essentials to keep me alive. I hadn’t counted it lately, but I knew there was a lot there. Enough to start fresh in the city.

  “You’re packing a bag,” Levi announced. Apparently the billionaire was unimpressed by the savings account. He walked briskly away, and I stared after him dumbly, not comprehending just what he was doing until I heard the creak of the staircase and gagged.

  “Don’t!” I tried to shout, but it came out in a weak rasp. The shoebox fell from my limp grasp and bills scattered across the floor. I forced my legs into action and dashed after him, pulling him backward from the stairs, making him struggle to keep his feet.

  “What the hell are you trying to do?” Levi demanded, whirling around to face me. “Trying to kill me, too?”

  “Stay off the stairs,” I hissed, surprising him with my vehemence.

  “Meagan, I’m just trying to make sure you’re prepared to leave all of this behind,” he said slowly. “You have to have things you care about beyond the money in your shoebox.”

  “Stay the fuck off the stairs.” I yanked at him again so that he was standing back on the first floor, with me.

  His mouth tried to form words, and he looked at me, then past me at the living room, understanding finally dawning on him.

  “You’ve been living just in the living room,” he said. “Not even sleeping on a bed.”

  “Your pity is the opposite of helping,” I snarled at him, relieved to have access to my rage. Rage was much more preferable than horror.