Just a Little Honesty

by Tracie Puckett

  “Tell who?”

  “Say we get married,” he said, and he gave me a look that promised he understood it was a hypothetical statement. “Say we get married, have children, and build our lives together. What do we tell our kids about their grandparents? What do we say when they ask about Grandma and Grandpa Little?”

  “I guess, when they’re old enough, I’ll tell them the truth,” I said. “I’ll tell them that a horrible man robbed them of their lives. And I won’t sugarcoat it; they’ll deserve to know the truth.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding. But then he looked at me and tears filled his eyes. “Now, what do you tell them when they ask about their Grandpa Milton?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you marry me,” Derek said, squeezing my hands. “And you finally get that happily ever after that you’re chasing… then how do you explain it to our children? How do you explain that it was Grandpa Milton—that horrible man, your words, not mine—who killed Grandma and Grandpa Little?”

  “Derek,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not fair. You can’t—

  “I’m just trying to be realistic.” He wiped a single tear away from his eye and watched me as we turned another corner. “You could be happy with me, Julie. I could give you so much, but not everything. You’d grow to resent me, and I could never live with that.”

  “But Derek—”

  “You don’t want that life for your kids. I don’t want that life for mine. And I don’t think I’m telling you anything you haven’t already considered on your own. You’ve known for a long time. And if we were anybody else, any two people from any other families, this story would’ve ended with our happily ever after. I would’ve rocked your world, Julie. But the story can’t end that way. I’m a Milton, and you’re a Little.”

  I hated that it had come to this. Derek had resorted to the same labels the rest of my friends and family had. Our last names didn’t define us, but as far as Derek was concerned… they did.

  “And Luke….” Just hearing Derek’s tone told me one thing: he hated what he was about to say. “Luke’s a real piece of work, Julie. I don’t know that I’ll ever understand. But he’s the one.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “No, I do,” he said, taking my hand again. “I want to be the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only good friend is an honest one. Luke loves you, and you’re kidding yourself if you think you’ll ever find someone who’ll give you more than he’s willing to give.” He half-laughed, and then his gentle hand tensed in mind. “I hate giving you permission to stomp on my heart, but if you walk away from Luke…Julie, you’ll miss out on the greatest love of your life. Stop wasting his time. Stop wasting yours. And for the love of God, please stop wasting mine. Just go… go get what you want.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tuesday, April 09 | 6:00 p.m.

  Luke, Matt, Kara, and I watched as Derek walked away from the cabin and disappeared into the woods with his luggage in hand. Luke spent hours trying to reason with him; honestly, he did more than that. He begged that Derek stay and wait it out with the rest of us. As much as they had their differences, Luke hated watching Derek leave. He knew, as we all did, that he couldn’t protect someone who didn’t want to be protected.

  “When are you ever going to tell us what was said out there in those woods?” Kara asked, but I kept looking on.

  I kept praying that Derek would turn around and come back, but the longer I waited, the more I realized that that just wasn’t going to happen.

  Not long after he’d told me to go after what I wanted, Derek decided it would be best to head back home to Oakland. He didn’t want me thinking that he’d left for good; he swore he’d never abandon me again. But he felt like it’d be better to get some distance while I sorted my feelings for Luke. And while I understood, I hated watching him go.

  “I don’t wanna talk about it,” I said, and I started to turn for the door.

  But Matt took my wrist and pulled me back, giving me a gentle hug. He didn’t have to say a word, but I knew what his gesture meant.

  Before all of this had started—long before Conan Milton had ever escaped from prison—Matt and I had had a pretty nasty argument. He’d sworn off my friendship, claiming that Luke was in the right, and I was in the wrong. And though a month had passed since I’d blown up at him, he and I hadn’t patched things up. I went about my life, and he went about his. It wasn’t until the prison break that we both took a step back and let things fall into perspective. And I guess his hug was just his silent attempt at trying to put the past behind us, and I was really okay with that.

  The next few hours passed slowly, and had it not been for Kara’s constant neck massages and words of encouragement, I might’ve died.

  I’d already made up my mind a long time ago. I’d already set my sights on a future with Luke; I’d known for forever that Derek would never be anything more… but hearing him give up, watching him walk away… it still broke my heart in ways I couldn’t understand. I think—more than anything else—I truly feared losing his friendship. I didn’t want Luke to come between us again.

  Matt must’ve sensed it, or maybe Kara nudged him in that direction, but he’d soon caught on to the fact that what I really needed was some time alone with Luke. Though I’d had plenty of time with him prior to their arrival, I hadn’t taken the opportunity to talk about all the things that needed to be said.

  When Matt told Luke that he was going to take Kara into town for a private dinner, Luke didn’t argue; he didn’t seem all too pleased that two of his biggest responsibilities were walking out the door unattended, but he seemed to be more focused on the fact that his biggest responsibility needed a little extra attention.

  When the two love birds were gone and out of sight, Luke plopped down on the couch next to me and nudged my shoulder with his.

  “I’m getting really good at saying this,” he said, trying not to smile. “But I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” I asked, dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling.

  “I thought asking him to come would help you,” he said. “I didn’t know—”

  “It’s okay,” I said, but I didn’t look at him. Luke took my hand in his, held it tight, and caressed my fingers. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of his skin heat against mine. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, but I didn’t give him time to answer. “Can we just… go home?”

  Luke’s finger stopped brushing mine. I felt him sit a little straighter, and he cleared his throat.

  “You want to go home?”

  “I don’t see how it’s doing us any good hiding out. I never imagined the search for Milton would take this long. There are hundreds of people stranded back home on lockdown. Because of me….”

  “Jules—”

  “I know,” I said, opening my eyes. I finally lifted my head to look at him, but I didn’t let his sad eyes sway me. “I’m safer here, yes. But this could go on for years, Luke. And I’m done running. I didn’t see it before, or at least I didn’t want to risk it… but Derek was right. The longer I run, the longer Milton runs. Why not go home and just end it while we can?”

  “You’d be putting your life in serious danger—”

  “My life’s already in serious danger,” I said, trying to reason with him. “All we’re doing is making it harder for him to find me, that’s all.”

  “That’s really what you want?” he asked, taking a deep breath. He wanted to fight me; I could see it burning deep in his eyes. He wanted to say a million manipulative things, but he fought every urge.

  “Yes. This ends tonight. No more running. No more.”

  “Well, then,” he said, glancing around the cabin. “I guess we should start cleaning up.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, and I rolled off the couch.

  Luke and I spent the next two hours packing our clothes—though he didn’t have half as much to clean up as I did—and giving the cabin a good tidying up. It was dreary, I�
�ll admit. A thunderstorm rolled through, shaking the cabin every few minutes with a loud bang. Strikes of lightning would light up the cabin in small intervals. The rain just fell… it poured so hard I worried that the roads might flood.

  But we kept cleaning.

  Luke spent most of his time in the kitchen throwing out anything that he didn’t feel could be left behind or salvageable after a long trip home. The cabin spruce-up didn’t last long, and we could’ve left hours before had Matt and Kara returned.

  “Hate to break it to you, Little,” Luke said as the clock struck 11 p.m. and a clap of thunder shook the cabin. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere tonight.” He peeked out the window before closing the curtain again.

  “Luke,” I said, ignoring the fact that he’d just told me that we were going to have to spend another night in the middle of nowhere. “You asked me a few questions the other night.”

  “Right.”

  “And now I’m curious… what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “What do you want from life? I mean, from the outside looking in, it looks like you’ve pretty much gotten everything a person could want. You have a great education, your dream job, a beautiful apartment. You’re doing really well for yourself.”

  “Yeah, from the outside looking in,” he said, repeating what I’d said.

  Luke and I sat quietly as the rain let up. After a few minutes, there was nothing left but the subtle pitter patter of small drops as the tail end of the storm moved out.

  “Well,” I said after Luke hadn’t answered my question. I looked up at the clock and then back to him. “I guess if we’re staying I should probably get a shower in. I don’t wanna fight Matt for hot water in the morning. I get enough of that crap at home.”

  Luke nodded but didn’t say anything.

  I tried to overcome my hesitancy as I stood up, retrieved my bag from the doorway, and rolled it into the bathroom behind me. I closed the door and put my suitcase aside. Propping my hands on the sink in front of me, I stared in the mirror and watched my reflection. It was the first time in a long time that I’d actually stopped to look at myself. My eyes had grown tired and heavy, but it wasn’t just from a few restless nights. It was the combination of sleepless months, weeks of anxiety, and day after day of facing the unknown.

  I dropped my head and closed my eyes, but no sooner than I took a breath, a loud crash filled the cabin outside the bathroom.

  Again, for only the second time in my life, I felt the overwhelming urge to solidify. My nerves stopped, my heart didn’t race. I managed—though I’ll never know how—to muster a few deep breaths, and I finally stood straighter.

  I reached for the door knob, and just as my hand grasped the brass, another loud crash filled the air. This time I didn’t hesitate, but swung the door open and stared immediately at the source of the clatter.

  “Luke,” I whispered, dropping my shoulders.

  I watched as he knelt on the floor in front of the cabinets, shuffling pots and pans, re-stacking, and reorganizing them.

  He looked up from the floor with two pots in hand, managed a faint smile, and shrugged. “Restless.”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying not to read too much into his compulsive behavior. “But you already cleaned the kitchen, remember?”

  “I know,” he said as if he didn’t need reminding. “I just want to make sure we leave everything how we found it, that’s all.” He nodded back at the bathroom. “Just take your shower, Julie. I’ve got this under control.”

  “Okay,” I said, but I didn’t turn back. I stood in the doorway and watched as Luke fumbled with a few pans, stacking them neatly by width and depth.

  A few minutes passed, and he didn’t seem to notice that I was still watching him. It was only after he was done reorganizing that I took a step back to shut the bathroom door, but I stopped again almost immediately. Luke studied his job for a moment, but only a moment, and then he reached back under the cabinet and started pulling the pans out again.

  “Luke,” I said, and this time he jumped.

  “Holy shit, Little,” he muttered, and then he shook his head. “What are you doing?”

  “I was gonna ask you the same thing,” I said, nodding at the pots he’d pulled back out.

  He looked down at his hands, set the pots aside on the counter, and nodded a couple of times as if that should’ve answered my question.

  “Let me guess,” I said, almost humoring him. “It’s not what it looks like?”

  “No,” he said, raising his chest with a deep breath. “It’s exactly what it looks like, and I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “Luke—”

  “It’s just anxiety, Julie,” he said, diverting his eyes. “That’s all it is.”

  “I think it’s more than that.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it—”

  “Yeah, you said that,” I said, nodding only once. I took a step forward and reached for his hand, but he quickly pulled it back. “Luke, I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know what it’s like. I don’t. But… maybe talking about it will help—”

  “What am I supposed to say?” he asked, dropping his shoulders as if completely defeated. “What do you want to hear, Julie?”

  “The truth.”

  He swallowed hard and then looked up at me.

  “Listen,” he said, and his voice was as soft and kind now as it’d been in the earlier days when he’d been honest with me. “You asked me to prove myself, not through words but through actions. You said that’s what you needed from me.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered and gently nodded.

  “But I need something from you too, Julie,” he said, and his eyes only got a little wetter.

  “Anything.”

  “I need you to let me come to you in my own time,” he said. “Not just about this, but about everything. I’ll talk when I’m ready to talk, but you can’t keep forcing yourself into situations where you don’t belong.”

  “I only want to help—”

  “I get that,” he said, nodding. “Truly, I do. But when you do that, when you weasel your way in, all you do is push people further away.” He looked back at the pots, pans, and down to the open cabinet doors. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not with you, not with a doctor, and not with a therapist. I want to deal with this on my own time and in my own way. I love you, Julie, but I’m not the only one here who has problems to work on.”

  “But Luke—”

  “Please,” he said, finally reaching forward to take my hand. “I’m not trying to push you away or shut you out. And I’m sure that’s how it feels. I know you want to know, and I know you want to help. I love you for that, but there’s a time and place for your insane, hovering, overbearing love.” He half-laughed and shrugged. “But you don’t always have to be in the center of everything, Julie. Sometimes it’s better not to know.”

  I nodded, and Luke tightened his grip on my hand.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling me closer. My head landed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me and smothered me beneath his strong hold. “I love you, kid.”

  “I love you, too,” I whispered, burying my face in my shoulder. After a few minutes of complete bliss in the arms of the man I loved, I summoned the strength to back away and nodded at the floor. “I’ll let you get back to that.”

  He looked down and nodded, so I headed back for the bathroom. Just as I reached the threshold, I turned back to find Luke back on the floor and settling in to organize the cabinet once again.

  “Hey Luke,” I said, immediately eliciting his stare. He lifted his brows and watched me curiously as I leaned in the doorway. “Thank you.”

  “For what, kid?”

  “Your honesty,” I said, and he barely smiled.

  “Anytime.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tuesday, April 09 | 11:00 p.m.

  I left Luke to work on his task and retreated to the bathroom for my much-needed
shower. I turned on the water, stripped my clothes to the floor, and kicked them to the corner. Once the water was at a perfect temperature—as hot as I could possibly stand it—I stepped into the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed.

  I heard another loud crash in the kitchen as I started to rinse my hair.

  I dropped my head and closed my eyes, knowing that Luke’s frustration was one he’d have to deal with on his own. He didn’t want my help, didn’t want me to interfere, and he wanted to handle it all on his own.

  I had to respect that.

  I lathered my hair into a big, soapy mess just as I heard the bathroom door click open, and the breeze from the doorway caused a small wave in the shower curtain.

  “Luke,” I said, almost laughing as I tried to rinse the shampoo from my scalp.

  “Hmm?”

  “I think the next topic of discussion needs to be the little issue of recognizing boundaries.” The door shut with the tiniest click, and I scrunched my brow. “One of those boundaries, dear, is respecting my privacy while I’m in the shower.”

  I paused and waited for him to answer, but the room stayed relatively quiet. I finished rinsing the shampoo away, wiped some bubbles from my face, and listened closer.